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Issue 37.5 of the Review for Religious, 1978. ; Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development Immortality, Old Age and Death Developing Constitutions and Directories Volume 37 Number 5 Septe~mber 1978 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1978 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: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 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 Answers Editor Assistant Editor September, 1978 Volume 37 Number 5 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gailen, 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. Not As Demanding an Answer Mary Corona, F.M.D.M. Sister Mary Corona, nurse and mid-wife by profession, has been a religious for 23 years. After fifteen years of service in Zambia, she is presently w6rking at a nursing home of her com-munity: Mount Alvernia; Bramshott Chase; Portsmouth Rd., Near Hindhead; Surrey, En-gland. Recently someone quoted a sister as saying that she will remain in religious life until or unless Mr. Right comes along. With the greatest respect for those who see the crises which presently exist in our religious communities as lying e!sewhere, I would submit that here, in this attitude, is both nut and kernel of the~ pyoblem. How big this. problem is might be difficult to assess, but it would seem fair to suggest that it is as large, or as small, .as the number of sisters dragging along who are oriented in this way. It is true that religious life is bedeviled with all manner of other diffi-culties, but these will never destroy consecrated living. Indeed, they never could;;for consecration is of the heart, and is able to stand against the ebb and .flow of contrary tides--but not that of the uncommitted heart. An-chorless, it drifts aimlessly to and fro. One can only feel a deep compassion for sisters living in this way. They have missed out on both sides of life, and the wonder is that they stay so long. Our way of life has little to offer once theheart grows cold, for all that remains is an existence Centered on regulations, work, meals--and frus-tration. Religious life was never rheant to be like that. It was never meant merely to provide board and lOdging while our heart plays elsewhere. It was never meant simply to provide a base to which we return every so often to pick up our mail and clean clothes. We did not make vows of religion just to obtain financial security, material comfort, and freedom from the re- 641 642 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 sponsibility of rearing a family. Yet all this, and much more, is implicit in an attitude of waiting for some one or something "worthwhile" to come our way. If we come to the point where we see our:institute as something separate from the Person who calls us, there is little wonder we lose our love for it. No one can really love an institution on its own merits. No sane adult waxes lyrical over the government, or glows with love about the local housing department. Institutions, especially legislative ones, are just not things which warm our hearts. Our own institute can soon come to be viewed in much the same way.-.:Once we have lost our focal point all else begins to diSintegrate. Riales become restrictive, authority becomes oppressive, ac-countability is no longer acceptable, and our eyes start roaming the world for a way out. Ways out are not difficult to find, and so the further we get from our committed attitude of heart, the more normal it seems to be wandering abroad. We may still talk bravely about the love of God. But words do not feed a hungry heart, and we are hungry---craving for love as only a woman can crave. Separated from the trtie center of our lives, we will v.ery soon seek out its counterfeit. Borderline friendships, such as sincere married women would consider out of the question, are accepted as offering "meaning" to our drifting lives. Social activities unbecoming to a life consecrated by vow are welcomed as a relief from boredom. Fantasies, imaginings, unrealistic day-dreams eat away at us until, predictably, we file our petition for dis-pensation. What started off as something so glorious finishes with a slip of paper authorizing us to go our way. It would be pleasant to think that this unhappy pic(ure is an exaggeration. But one only has to look back through religious perio~licals covering the last few years, and pick out the articles written by sisters, to find a substantial proportion containing material,of this depressing kind. So, what should our lives be? Although we rub shoulders with many another on our journey through life, in the final analysis it is our own individual experience that shapes our views and convictions. My own con-victions concerning religious life have been crystallized and refined in many a furnace. Therehave been times when it seemed that I, like many another, just did not have the necessary courage to go on. St. Paul seemed to me to have missed the mark when he said, "You will not be tempted beyond your strength," for on those occasions I was being sorely tempted, in a way that seemed to have far outstripped my strength. , Yet it was at this very point each time that help came. Some tremendous force seemed to pluck me out of the fearful void and I was set down once again on firm ground. I now know experientially what I had known pre-viously only on theory, that St. Paul was right in what he said,just as I also know that my vows were a bilateral contract, and God on his side has an obligation to care for me--and he will. I know that however far he tosses Not As DemandinR an Answ~er / 64~ me, he will cradle me again. I know that my life is as inextricably bound up with his as his is with mine. He cannot do without me any more than I can do without him. I might be dispensable to others, but he will never throw me hway. He calls me by my name, softly and gently, not as demanding an answer, but as begging a surrender. I am his cherished one, his beloved child, and all that I do, all the wrong that is in me, will s6mehow be colored by his great ~lo~ve for me. As I grow on awarenes~ of his love, I begin to drop my masks and lower my barriers; I unfold and develop, unconscious of the strength of his con-cern. I'no longer worry~ whether I am worthy to be loved by him--such questionings are futile, for his love is already a fact. I no longer fear to accept his love, worried over my shabbiness, because near him my tatters are transformed. ~. I am aware of my weakness, my need for help, my sometimes inability to "go itS' alone. 1 know that I nee~d friends, I need. encouragement, I n~ed acceptance and love from those around me, for the stuff of my being is human and craves these ~hings. But I do not need a lover, I do not need a Mr. Right. I would have no room for him. I would not know what to do with him, for all the time I would spend with him my heart would be crying out for my true lover, my Lord and Master. I wear His ring on my finger and there it will remain until in death another will remove it, for then all need of visible signs will have passed. I know I have many faults--some glaring, ¯ some tucked away--so be it. He will not allow me to persist in dangerous or damaging attitudes for long, but he will love them out of me, and in his tenderness will leave no scars. I_will never leave him, not through any strength or goodness of mine but because he will not let me go. He bargained for me at too great a price. Why should I want to leave him anyway? What fault can I find in him? Where has . he failed? What promise has he not kept? When has his love grown cold and~ his eyes sought out anothe~r in preference to me? I can accuse him of none of these things. Through~ut my life others have let me down, but him-- never! I have pained and anguished him. I have demanded my head, and he has given it to me. I have argued and tossed the ball with him, provoking a reaction and, having exhausted myself, found his long, beautiful patience waiting quietly to take me back again. I have never received a reprimand, not even in the deepest places of my heart, but in any wrongdoing I have only ever been conscious of his heartbreaking quietness while he waits, and, as we set off together again; it is as though the wandering past had never been. And so my vows and my ~religious life are only means to a glorious end. They are not my life, but the !oom on which the fabric of my life, the fabric of my love is being woven. They will hold all things together for me until the One I have loved so imperfectlyin this life will invite me to quit it and come with him, where, because he will never leave my side, I shall do all 644 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 things perfectly. And then, in the words of that delightful English medieval recluse, Julian of Norwich, "All will be well. All manner of things will be well." This then is what was promised to us on making our religious profession. We were assured that if we faithfully observed all that was implicit in our vows we would attain to eternal beatitude. We took the unknown future on trust, and in its unfolding we have doubtless experienced great joys and rich blessings, both interwoven with a handsome share of heartbreak. Things have changed, people have changed, we ourselves have changed. No one ever promised that it would be otherwise. Yet in all the movement in which we are caught up, God has remained constant. He has not, he does not, he will not change. So infinitely lovable, tantalizingly beautiful, how is it possible for us to want another? We have our Mr. Right, maybe we never stood still long enough to recognize him. Maybe we have never moved in closely enough to experience him. It is never too late, for in his constancy he is still waiting. He has not moved. He will always be waiting while there is the smallest hope that we might turn back. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS HAS MOVED! As of June 19, the editorial office of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has relocated from its Grand Boulevard location to its new address: Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63108 Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development Philip D. CristantiellO Dr. Cristantiello is a consulting psychologist to St. Joseph's Seminary, St. Vincent's Hospital School of Nursing, the Dominican Sisters of Newburg and to Elizabeth Seton College. He resides at 130 Sherwood Ave.; Yonk.ers, NY 10704. Once upon ~. time a person could reiy on .his certainties. They accom-panied him as comfortable companions throughout life. For example, just about everyone knew that the priestho6d was limited to men, that homo-sexuality was not only different but also deviant and that no child born Robert would become, an adult called Roberta. It wasn't even necessary to discuss such matters. They were considered self-evident. Now, however, we have come uncomfortably to the realization that society has taken many of our "knowns" and chan.ged them to."maybes." So it is fitting to discuss the subject of psychosexua! maturity with a certain degree of caution. The views expressed in this paper are directed particularly toward pro-grams of preparation for the priesthood. It is likely, however, that many of the comments will apply to all who have chosen a celibate way of life. After briefly identifying some of my working assumptions, I shall discuss toe topics of sexuality, psychosexual maturity, intimacy and celibacy. In ad-dition, some questions about the effects of a homogeneous environment on preparation for. celibacy will be raised. The final section of the paper will offer some guidelines to seminary educators. Since each of these topics is so complex, 1 have focused my thougl~ts on their psychological aspects. My intent is not to minimize the moral and theological dimensions of these subjects. They are simply beyond my competence and are appropriately left to others. ~ 645 646 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Some Working Assumptions My discussion of psychosexual maturity is based upon certain assump-tions derived from empirical studies of healthy and mature persons and concepts of biological normality.~ These assumptions are: ---All forms of sexual expression are not equally reflective of normal psychosexual development; e.g., homosexuality. --The criteria for judging mature behavior in non-celibates will not necessarily be the same for celibates; e.g., procreation is normative ¯ for the species but trot for religious. --The absence of, or seeming immunity from, sexual striving and stresses is trot necessarily indicative of psychosexual harmony; e.g., the absence of conflict may be due to such mechanisms as repression. ---Mature individuals are not invariably stable or immune to dis-organization; e.g., a priest may have a personal crisis which tem-porarily disrupts confidence in his vocation, but over the long run the quality of his commitment can remain high. ---Strong, persistent motivations will assist the celibate in organizing purposeful-behavior; e.g., Christian directional stability helps one cope in an unstable, value-changing society. --The validity of concepts of psychosexual maturity does not rest upon their being evidenced in the personalities of most religious; e.g., in the Kennedy-Heckler stud), of the priesthood most priests were found to be underdeveloped. This does not mean, however, that psycho-sexual maturity is impossible in the priesthood. ---It is unlikely that I can propose a universally a6cepted concept of psychosexual maturity. The diversity and complexity°w, hich one may find in the experiential world of well functioning celibates has not been adequately researched and studied. Sexuality ' ~ ' The Sexualization of Celibate Life Sexuality is increasingly selected as a topic of discussion by celibates. The appearance of books, workshops, and articles devoted to various as-pects of this subject attest to this assertion. There is an apparent readiness on the part of many persons in religious life to address the phenomenon of "human sexuality. Indeed, there has been a curiously sudden emergence of "expert commentators" on the subject. In the past it was not that religious could deny that sex was a fact of life, but that many celibates simply did not regard it as a useful fact and could more easily avoid its role in their lives. It was not unusual for both religious and laity to think of celibacy as a state of being asexual. Today, with our widespread cul(ural relativism and appearance of psychological sophis- ~Douglas H. Heath, Explorations of Maturity (New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, 1965), pp. 32-34. Warren J. Gadpaille, The Cycles of Sex (New York: Scribners, 1975), pp. 5-7. Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 647' tication, many old views are being displaced. "Experts," even though they be far removed from formation programs, seem capable of speaking at:great length and with great conviction about the preparation of men for priest-hood. However else we may describe these times, most certainly it will not be called an age of humility. Another sign of how sexuality has saturated our culture is that the noun "celibate" appears more and more frequently in print with modifiers like "sexual" or "genital." This facile use of terms does not automatically signify any real move toward maturity; it merely misleads some into think-ing they have made a substantial step in that direction. In such a climate we may start to believe that using the language of sexuality is,synonymous with being mature. The articulated vocabulary of sexuality doesn't easily trans, late into the nonverbal language of behavior. Despite the recent proliferation of publications and the shifts in attitude, I am inclined to believe that the practice of celibacy and the sexuality of celibates is I,argely an unknown. There is .little available evidence from serious, systematic study which adequately describes the impact of celi-bacy on the~lives of~priests and other, religious. We have operate~ with many assumptions and assertions about how difficult ',c, elibacy is, its"impact on personality functioning, and what resources prove us.eful, and which do not, in sustaining a p,erson in a celibate vocation. There is relatively little verifiable information about the d~gree of'sucCess which priests and reli-gious have achteved !,n rema~mng faithful, and not much common agree-ment as to the criteria for defining a healthy celibate life. In addition, the relationship of successful celibate commitment to type of preparation, per-sgnality, work satisfaction and age has not been clearly delineated. It may seem overly ~imple ~to state.my next observation in relation to the practice of celibacy, but sometimes the obvious is neglected. Sexual ab-stinence, like sexual gratification is a part-time, not a full-time experience. Persons who actively gratif.y t.heir sexual needs do not do so continuously any more than celibates have to rehounce genital e~prgssion continuously. The point is that sexual abstinence may have to be continual in religious life, but that d0es" not mean it i~ continuous." While it may be true that we now live in a society which insanely operates as though desire and gratificatio.n were synonymous and need to be experienced simultaneously, we may have been equally absurd in the past by overplaying the sacrificial nature of abstinence. Ih a sense, ~then, in efforts to redress some of the problems associated with an asexual approach, our concept of celibacy now seems to have become rather Sexualized, Education for Sexuality The celibate may a,,ccept~the~fact of his seXuality but it may not help him very ,much because the meaning of this fact keeps changing as the celibate zContinual refers to an indefinite succession or recurrence of events while continuous implies ,an uninterrupted experience with unchanging intensity and'withou~ modulation. Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 advances in age~ He soon learns that becoming an enlightened and re-sponsible sexual being is a life long challenge. Education for a celibate life is not just a task for the young seminarian. Sexuality presents different demands and has different meanings at different points in a person's life. For example, an individual may find the stresses ofa celibate priesthood. more manageable when he is young because a certain proportion of his interactions provide indications that he is regarded as an attractive male. As he ages, such reassuring experiences may0become infrequent and his self-image threatened. He may then become more imprudent in seeking con-firmation of his attracliveness as a man. In addition tothe changing nature of one's sexuality seminaries for the most part did not make it easy for students to acquire the knowledge, attitudes and skills which would enable them to understand what a celibate life-style entailed. While the introduction of courses on human sexuality has been of some help, there is still insufficient opportunity for students to discuss celibate life with priests and women religious because there still exists a sense of vulnerability and embarrassment among these groups. Preparation for a life of celibacy must involve more than such discrete events as coml61etion of a course in human sexuality, making vows or becoming ordained. Such events are no more a guarantee of mature sexual functioning for celibates than falling in love, gel~iing married and procreat-ing are for non-celibates. The seminary should strive: to impart to its stu-dents that the understanding, enjoyment and management of their sexuality is a continuing responsibility which must be shared wiih other persons. This responsibility does not cease with ordination. Al~ter a man leaves the semi-nary, he should be able to look forward to assistance from diocesan-spon-sored programs which will help him fulfill his commitment. Some Problems in Understanding Sexuality It is easy to assert that an understanding of the effect of sexuality on one's vocation depends upon comprehending the nature of sexuality. Such insight, however, is difficult to achieve. Our comprehension of human sexuality has been shaped as much by folklore and fantasy as by science and clinical experience. Our sources of knowledge have often been lacking in reliability. We have been limited as much by resistance in the scientific community as by social inhibitions. And what is perhaps more to the point, it is practically impossible for any individual to know at any given moment how his sexuality is affecting him any more than he generally knows how his circulation is affecting him. High sounding phrases like "sexuality is a fundamental aspect of personality functioning" are not much help in im-proving anyone's understanding of the role of sexuality in the priesthood or any other vocation. In fact, such statements often increase the dilemma because they make many persons feel secretly stupid not knowing more about what is so basic to their nature. For example, is a person':s sexuality minimally operative if he declares, "I do not need relationships with women Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 649 to know that I am male," because this is a fact that he can be sure of by referring to the anatomical evidence at hand? And is his sexuality maxi-mally operative when he admits "I need a woman to feel masculine," because masculinity is not a fact but a value which cannot be judged in the same .way?3 In the first instance the criteria to be used are physiological, whereas in the second they are cultural and subject to changes in value as circumstances of time and place vary. In short, discussing the influence of sexuality may be likened to dealing with a ghost. One can seek it out but never touch it. Psychosexual Maturity While we may readily acknowledge that sexuality is a real and com-prehensive aspect of our relationships with others, we are still left with the question of defining .psychosexual maturity. It is one thing to say that sexuality goes beyond genital expression, quite another to identify a healthy integration of the psychological and physical dimensions of one's behavior. Sexuality's potential is also its problem. A person brings to any human interaction a host of needs, vulnerabilities, attitudes and defenses, and he can manipulate them in a variety of ways. For example, if.an individual wishes to deny responsibility for his sexual acts he may rationalize by saying his behavior is determined by instinctive drives over which he has no control. If he is threatened by the changing roles of women he can extol the importance of tradition and the accuracy of existing male-female stereo-types. If he needs to reassure himself about his masculinity he can refer to the strength and passion of his sex drive. What I hope I am making clear is the complexity associated with psychosexual functioning. It takes a great deal of knowledge, experience and honesty to know whether one's sex-uality is operating as a mature or immature response to another person. There are several other reasons why it is difficult to define psychosexual maturity. First, the characteristics that constitute maturity may simply be those that are esteemed by the author of ttie definition, i.e., the definition may have little to do with objective reality but reflects the personal values of the author. It would be wise to acknowledge, however, that values do play a legitimate 'part in formulating a concept of psychosexual maturity. Even a developmental concept such as Erikson's eight ages of man which rests upon the assumption of an inborn sequence of phases coordinated to the social environment is not readily divorced from the issue of values.4 Secondly, mature men are not static stereotypes. Their individuality aFor a discussion of the differences between males and females, and the distinction between sex and gender, see: Ann Oakley, Sex. Gender and Society (New York: Harper, 1972) and Corinne Hutt, Males and Females (Baltimore: Penguin~, 1972), 4Some of the difficulties associated with defining maturity will be found in: Leon J. Saul and Sydney E. Pulver. "The Concept of Emotional Maturity." Comprehensive Psychiatry. Vol. 6, No. I. February. 1965 and reprinted in Cur~e.nt Issues in Psychiatry. Vol. 2 (New York: Science House, 1967), pp. 231-244. 650 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 remains viable because they haven't allowed themselves to be put into a mold. Studies indicate that "the further., a person develops, the more finely sketched is his individuality."''~ Stereotyped behavior is more com-mon with immaturity. Rogers has pointed out that a mark of maturity is openness to experience and that as this increases the less predictable the person's behavior will be. The person's behavior will be dependably ap-propriate, but not rigidly patterned.~ In short, we cannot expect that all psychosexually mature men will exhibit behavior which is exactly alike. Defining Psychosexual Maturity In offering a definition it is important to distinguish between appropriate and mature behavior. During childhood, adolescence or youth certain di-mensions of an =individual's behavior might be regarded as psychosexually appropriate. That is, his thought, affect or action might be suitable for or fit the appropriate growth period according to Freud's or Erikson's stages of psychosexual development. He would not, however, in my view be characterized aspsychosexually mature because he had not had the fullness of time to permit the development of a deep understanding, full acceptance and ample ripening of his capacities. Psychosexual maturity is evidenced in the fuller, accrued development and harmonious interplay of the individ-ual's psychological and sexual capacities within an ordered and ethical value system. Before discussing some of the behavioral aspects of this 9onstruct, several other generalizations may help clarify my position. Why is a reference to values included in the definition of psychosexual development? Menninger has stated that, "Insofar as choice determines behavior, it stems from some considerations of value.' ,7 Since it would be inconceivable to speak of mature persons without this dimension of choice, psychosexual development cannot be isolated from the influenc(~of values. There is no realistic way of separating the two. Adolescence is not successfully outgrown by sit'ply developing con-fidence in one's sexual and occupational identity. Development toward maturity rests upon the individual's ability to evolve an internalized value system? The individual making such progress, will not only recognize the personal reality of his sexuality, but will seek to identify, question, refine and incorporate a sexual ethic. Thus, the maturing individual discovers not only the vitality of his biological capacities, but also seeks to appreciate their value, understand their meaning and assume personal responsibility '~Roy Heath, The Reasouable Adventurer, A Study of the Development of Thirty-six Under-graduates at Princeton (Pittsburgh: University of Pittsburgh Press, 1964), p. 38. Also, Douglas A. Heath, Growing Up In College (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1968), pp. 4-19. 6Carl R. Rogers, "The Concept of the Fully Functioning Person," Psychotherapy, Theory, Research and Practice, Vol. I, No. I, August, 1963, pp. 17-26. tRoy W. Menninger, "'No Escape From Values," comment in Current Issues In Psychiatry, Vol. 2, p. 253. 6Warren J. Gadpaille, The Cycles of Sex (New York: Scribners, 1975), p. 338. Psychosexual Maturio, in Celibate Development / 65"1 for their use. His freedom to choose raises the prospect of making enduring commitments to fundamental values. This freedom to choose on the basis of what he values is a "strength-giving and maturing realization. It is the key that opens the door to adulthood.''9 Programs of spiritual development can make significant contributions toward encouraging this aspect of the matUring process. Psychosexual maturity is an approachable ideal but probably not an achievable end. It is more a direction than a destination. Psychosexual maturity is never completely static. Physical maturation, physical and psy-chological needs and human relationships are never finalized. The interplay of desire and control must be addressed again and again. The celibate cannot bank on earlier resolutions to provide certain and continuing pro-tection throughout life. Since personality resonates in response to life events, the celibate cannot be expected to acquire psychosexual maturity during his period of seminary training and possess it securely throughout his ministry. If he faces the vicissitudes of life, his development wili be an ongoing process. On the other hand, if he tended to avoid life's recurrent challenges his development will be retarded. Psychosexual maturity and immaturity will be basically reflected in the motives, feelings and actions that are part of one's interactions with others. In the following sections I shall try to identify psychosexual maturity and immaturity in more specific terms. Idehtifying Psychosexual Maturity Erikson has commented that "To know that adulthood is generative, does not necessarily mean that one must produce children. But it means to know what one does if one does not.''~° In assessing psychosexual ma-turity, one must ask what happens to the celibate's deferred generativity. Does it, like the poet Hughes puts it, "dry up like a raisin in the sun"?~ If we follow Erikson's thought, the potential to be generative exists in all celibates who concern themselves with the "establishment, the guidance, and the enrichment of the living generation and the world it inherits."v' It is clear, therefore, that potential ig not sufficient. Thus, the psychosexually mature celibate must keep his creative powers alive and utilize them in some publicly identifiable way. There must be a behavioral service to others, guided by an enlarged sense of communal responsibility for the enrichment and enhancement of the whole cycle of life. The mature celibate's generativity is principally demonstrated by an expansion of his ego-interests. An example of this might be a faculty mem-ber investing his energies in the development of seminarians. The young would not be suspect or feared. The faculty member would view his stu- ~Peter Koestenbaum, Existential Sexuality (Engelwood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall. 1974), p. 143. ~0 Erik H. Erikson, Dimensions of a New .Identity (New York: Norton, 1974), pp. 122-123. ~Langston Hughes, Selected Poems (New York: Knopf, 1959), p. 268. ~-"Erik H. Erikson, p. 123. 652 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 dents as a "welcome trust" for future generations. His work would be motivated by a caring commitment to help others share in the benefits that have accrued to him. The more mature a celibate is, the more his vision will extend beyond the topography of skin. Relationships with members of the opposite sex will be less a question of responding to a physically attractive person and more a caring response for what is good in the person. Such a view permits the celibate to direct his sexuality beyond genital expression. His attentiveness to others' needs is flexible rather than fixated. His sexuality functions not only to make him attentive to the sexuality of others, but also to be in-sightful. Without insight his sense of celibate commitment will not find appropriate expression. This means being able to experience and acknowl-edge the attraction between himself and a member of the opposite sex without, as Farber put it, "the intervention of sex as motive or compul-sion.'' 13 He experiences his sexuality without guilt or denial and he pursues his relationship without the motivation of physical union. When he touches another person it is an expression of warmth, not a covert maneuver to incite physical arousal in himself or the other. The psychosexually mature celibate loves individuals, not an abstract form of humanity. He can be psychologically intimate with persons of either sex without domination, possessiveness, jealousy or genital expression. When problems arise intra-psychically or interpersonally he assumes responsibility for getting help without protracted delays. The psychosexually mature adult is able to recognize and commit him-self to values, cope with value conflicts, and assume responsibility for the consequences of his choices. The more mature he is, the more voiced values will coincide with his private thoughts and behavior. His sexual urges will not put his value system and behavior "out of sync." In ad-dition, what he values will be prized and not treated routinely. He will see his ethical principles as having validity apart from, but not necessarily opposed to, the authority figures in his life. In other words, his valuing process is alive and well--not latent, deferred or unconscious. While it is impossible to delineate all aspects of psychosexual maturity, there are three additional points of reference which may be useful in as-sessing psychosexual functioning. The first is that the more mature a person is the more he will possess awareness. His mental life will not be walled off from his bodily functioning and powers. The mature celibate will be able to recognize and draw inferences from his sexual responses as they affect his interactions. The second is that his response to the requirement of celibacy will be more than acquiescence or conformity. He will have understood what he was choosing and was willing to accept it without bitterness. The more that an individual finds celibacy an ifiaposition, the more it will di-minish his degree of psychosexual harmony, just as the more he is re- ~Leslie H. Farber, "'He Said, She Said," Commentary, March 1972, p. 53. Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 653 pressed sexually the more his awareness will be constricted. The third point of reference is the individual's commitment to synthesis. If he is unable to take the various dimensions of himself and integrate them with his Christian commitment be'will be a fragmented personality. There must be a harmony bet.ween thinking, feeling, and acting if the individual is to move toward psychosexual maturity in religious life. Recognizing Psychosexual Immaturity When a celibate's thought, affect or behavior becomes absorbed with compensatory processes, his level of maturity may be questioned. Some examples of immature compensatory measures for the lack of genital ex-pression are: vicarious participation in the heterosexual experiences of parishioners or psychic over-involvement in seminarians' conflict about celibacy; absorption with making one's physical appearance attractive so as to gain admiration as a substitute for the absence of sexual contact; denying or demeaning the value and pleasure of genital expression.; and taking refuge in consoling fantasies of sexual gratification and conquest. A per-son's psychosexual development will not endure the challenges of celibacy very well if it rests upon a foundation of compensatory measures. The way in which a celibate experiences required heterosocial limita-tions and sexual abstinence is indicative of his level of psychosexual ad-justment. Neither gratification nor frustration exist in abstract form; both have cognitive aspects which affect emotions and behavior. For example, sexual abstinence can be experienced by the individual as frustration, i.e., lack of opportunity to achieve a desired pleasure, or it can be experien.ced as deprivation, i.e., something which he has been unfairly kept from en-joying. The difference between experiencing a sense of loss and sacrifice (frustration) and a sense of being forcibly dispossessed (deprivation) is a fine distinction in perception. Nonetheless, it is one which will profoundly color the celibate's response, influencing both his mood and behavior. The first type of perception can lead to the learning of tension and frustration tolerance which is an essential ingredient in healthy ego development. The second type of perception can lead to covert gratifications and severe intrapsychic conflicts. More generally, the more that a person's relationships are determined by subjective states of deprivation (e.g., loneliness) or physical drives (e.g., erotic urges), the more easily his judgment will be impaired, his behavior driven and his communication pressured. Under such conditions his sex-uality will keep him awake but not very alert or smart. It will be increasingly difficult for him to keep from narrowing the focus of his attention, and his interactions with others will be directed toward goals which he indepen-dently determines. The more that a person ,has been unable to accept and integrate his sexuality, the more he will use defense mechanisms like re-pression and projection to alleviate h.i~guilt. t554 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Psychosexual immaturity is bound up with the individual's personality dynamics. A comparison may help clarify this generalization. A passive-submissive celibate is likely to wait for a seductive situation to short-circuit his own vague intentionality, while an obsessive-compulsive will rely on some feared imperative to insulate himself from his sexuality. The pas-sive- submissive tends to relinquish his own indefinite goals under someone else's influence while the obsessive-compulsive, unable to compromise his perfectionism, seeks an unquestionable tenet to banish doubt from his decisions. The first exaggerates the extent to which his behavior has been determined by external circumstance, the second invokes an authoritative precept to relieve him of personal responsibility. Both suffer from a de-ficient sense of autonomy which in turn diminishes the degree of psycho-sexual maturity. An attempt to recognize immaturity is not a trivial matter. There is no universally accepted compendium or list of mature and immature behav-iors. In addition, the attempt is to illuminate psychosexual behavior not codify it. One cannot take a complex concept like psychosexual maturity and reduce it to a systematic and definitive collection of behaviors. This does not mean, however, that questions about a celibate's psychosexual maturity are to be dismissed cavalierly. The difficulties associated with such an assessment do not negate the fact that the quality of a person's psychosexual functioning impinges upon the effectiveness of his ministry to others. Immaturity is not a private affair. Wherever it exists it draws at-tention to itself and spreads like a contagion sapping energy from the maturity of others. Celibacy and Intimacy , Intimacy The. term intimacy enjoys a leading place in the popular idiom of celi-bates almost to the point of being accorded reverential respect. Despite the difficulty of offering fresh comment on something so in fashion, the subject is ,too central to be avoided. One reason why intimacy attracts such concern is the interpersonal mobility required of priests. Many pastoral contacts are so compressed in time they end up being fragmentary relationships. In addition, each time a priest takes a new assignment, a certain number of friends are lost. Replacement of such friendships is difficult, especially for those with limited flexibility. These factors, combined with others (e.g. ,job dissatisfaction) can create an overpowering sense of isolation and thereby threaten one's psychosexual adjustment. In spite of our tendency to venerate intimacy, it is not a universally desired experience. The prospect of closeness may repel as often as it attracts. In intimacy one gives up control of what is seen by the other. One cannot enjoy privacy without being, in a sense, "public." Thus, a major question facing a person who commits himself to celibate life is deciding Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 655 whether he will share his real identity with that of others. If he did not choose the vocation to avoid intimacy, he assumes a major task in deter-mining how to share his personal self. To what extent can an adult ex-perience love or develop close relationships with other adults when geni-tality is renounced? A loving sexual union permits a truly intimate self-disclosure; an unfeared self-abandonment and loss of ego boundaries that non-genital friendships seemingly cannot match. How is the celibate to prevent an atrophy of his capacity for intimacy and not isolate himself with self-absorption? These questions are important because the strength de-rived from successfully managing the issue of intimacy vs. isolation is necessary for further psychosexual development. The usual answer to the questions posed is that a celibate can satisfy his needs for intimacy in non-genital friendships. This, of course, can be a normal and satisfactory means of self-disclosure for experiencing oneness with another. In this regard one of the usual cautions cited is that "celibate people need to be aware of the difference between intimacy, tactility and genitality.''~'~ I do agree with Goergen's suggestion that celibates need to distinguish these dimensions of relating. I think, however, that in otir warn-ings to celibates about the dangers of touch and sexual expression in friend-ships we have neglected an aspect of non-geriital relating that is more likely to impede a successful resolution of the intimacy vs. isolation question. This negative'aspect of relating to which I refer will be termed protective partnerships. Erikson has defined readiness for intimacy as the capacity to commit oneself "to cbncrete affiliations and partnerships and to develop the ethical strength to abide by such commitments, even though they may call for significant sacrifices and compromises.''~ While many men in seminaries do develop group affiliations and personal friendships, these relationships sometimes reflect an unhealthy degree of mutuality. We have all heard about the possessiveness of "particular friendships," but the issue I wish to address is more a question of protection than control. A protective partnership involves a largely unrecognized conspiracy of two or more persons to maintain isolation and distance from others. The partners in-dulge each other's' sensitivities in a form of pseudo-intimacy. ~his relieves them of having to deal with the challenges of being intimate with others outside their clique. The partnership also serves to protect those involved from psychic injury and thr~ats ofdisconfirmation (e.g., from the needs aiad ideas of those outside the group). Individuals caught up in such protective alliances are uncomfortable with expressing personal needs and feelings outside the partnership. It makes them feel infantilized or overly vulner-able. Intimacy outside the safe confines of the partnership is avoided be- ~'~Daniel Goergen, The Sexual Celibate (New York: Seabury, 1974), p. 159. ~Erik H. Erikson, "'Eight Ages of Man," reprinted in Current Issues In Psy,chiatry, Vol. 2., p. 253. 656 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 cause of distrust, anticipated ridicule, .fear of increased dependency or loss of control of emotion. They will rarely offer or accept intimacy outside the partnership. Protective partnerships are an inadequate resolution of the intimacy question. They pose more danger to an effective ministry than sexual in-discretions. Since they permit only weak identifications with persons out-side the boundaries of the partnership, such relationships discourage the development of empathy for others and set the stage for a righteous in-sularity. Thus, the celibate while believing he has become intimate has actually developed a Woclivity for provincialism and isolation. His further development toward stages 9f generativity and ego integrity is impaired. P. sychosexual maturity, particularly for the celibate, requires the ability to develop expanding rather than constricting identifications. Another thing which will hinder possibilities for genuine intimacy is an inadequate concept of celibacy. Individuals who have neglected serious examination of their own concept of celibacy or who operate with only a vague set of feelings about its meaning are unprepared for intimacy because they are unprepared for commitment. Celibacy without conviction is a form of sexual suicide. In an excellent paper on the psychology and asceticism of priestly celibacy Pable offers several sophisticated insights which can help remedy such limitations.'~ For the young person in a formation pro-gram, however, there are more basic points that need to be addressed, First, it is not uncommon to find that seminarians will become rather insecure if they discover a discrepancy between the degree of confidence they feel about a call to the priesthood and their acceptance of the celibacy requirement. Often they do not become aware of this lack of internal con-sistency until they are in advanced stages of preparation for their vocation. The way in which seminarians deal with this dilemma varies of course, but frequently the conflict is inadequately evaluated or avoided. Avoidant be-havior is not confined to students, however, for seminary educators are sometimes equally adept in delaying or delimiting opportunities to discuss celibacy. The inclusion of formal courses in human sexuality rarely rem-edies this situation completely. Often a main effect of such courses is to bring such conflicts to a level of consciousness without resolution of the concomitant anxiety. Secondly, when sexual fears and impulses are regarded as signs of weakness and as constituting a grave threat to one's vocation, attempts at emotional overcontrol are set in motion. A premature identification with celibacy is one means of putting such concerns to rest. Then, at some later stage, sufficient ego strength will have occurred permitting these concerns to resurface. For these reasons it is important to have competent counseling services on hand so that students can be readily assisted in understanding and dealing with such conflicts. Many of these students can eventually make a sound commitment to celibacy. ~nMartin W. Pable. ~'The Psychology and Asceticism of Celibacy," Seminao' Newsletter Supplement, No, 5, Vol. 13, February 1975. Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 657 Clinical experience indicates that one should not assume the existence of a secure, firm acceptance of the celibacy requirement simply because students do not verbalize their uncertainties. On the other hand, seminary educators should not be quick to judge a student as unsuitable if he does raise questions or expose his doubts. Instances in which the celibacy issue was deferred or submerged until some external circumstance disturbed an earlier, and sometimes premature adaptation to the requirement are not unusual. Such a state of affairs may simply indicate that other aspects of the individual's development (e.g., intellectual learning) had to occur before the meaning of celibacy could be faced. Increasingly, students are taking initiatives in bringing their questions about celibacy into an open forum. Yet, there still remain in the minds of many seminarians strong fears that, if one were to air his true feelings, reprisals in the form of peer rejection and dismissal from the program might result. Thus, many go their own way for protracted periods of time without assistance in dealing with such internal tensions, thereby creating more ¯ problems for themselves and others. It is essential that seminary educators provide the kind of climate in which students feel secure enough to expose where they are at in their development. In the absence of the trusting climate, self-concealment reigns. In an untrusting climate the prospects of self-disclosure are decreased. This leads students to believe intima~cY is only possible in exceptional relationships. In such a climate associations with peers and fa6uity will be reduced to role playing in which the student seeks to conceal important dimensions of his psychosexual development. Even when he seeks inti-macy his tendency will be to obtain reassurances rather than candid en-counters which could challenge self-assumptions and expand knowledge of the quality of his psychosexual functioning. While any move toward intimacy is fraught with risks, e.g., rejection, exploitation and protective partnerships, it is nonetheless essential for healthy personality development in the young. Intimacy helps attenuate attitudes of egocentrism, suspicion, jealousy and omnipotence--all of which represent substantive obstacles to an effective ministry. Human sexuality is a stimulus to move toward others and away from self-cen-teredness. Without the challenge of intimate relationships the seminarian's potential for genuine altruism remains quiescent. A third point deserving consideration is the common practice of re-ferring to celibacy as a gift. This gift analogy can be psychologically mis-leading to the young person. Much of one's youthful experience indicates that a gift is a material thing, and that one can (or must) accept a gift whether one wants it or deserves it? With such an orientation to the gift analogy the seminarian may fail to give sufficient attention to his own readiness for celibacy, thereby setting the stage for problems after ordination. For when celibate Status is viewed as a thing given rather than attained, it is more likely to be passively possessed until "stolen, lost or given away." Thus, Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 if one insists, on using the gift analogy it should be stressed that the gift is a sacred trust and that its possessor has an obligation to prepare himself before it can be put to proper use. The proper exercise of such a gift depends upon personal effort to acquire the necessary knowledge and maturity. It should be evident at this point that my discussion of celibacy has proceeded in an explicitly psychological fashion. However, the question of celibacy obviously has religious value and theological meaning. Have I, then, given short shrift to these important dimensions of the celibate com-mitment? Specifically, has my concentration on personal development and effort slighted the importance of God's call and grace? I think not. Indeed, .my persuasion is that psychological analysis and theological insight are complementary. Grace does not replace the human process of develop-ment. It strengthens and perfects that process. And for God's call to be fruitful, it must be integrated into the mature growth of the human subject. Thus, the theological language of "gift" must be complemented by the psychological insistence upon mature human development if the entire sweep of human experience is to be engaged and the full implications of commitment are to be grasped. Creativity in Intimacy and Celibacy In completing this section on celibacy and intimacy I want to introduce the~subject of creativity for two reasons. First, I want to counter the popular tendency, to view intimacy solely in term~ of close and affectionate personal relationships. Such a concept of intimacy is too limiting, particularly for persons who will be living a celibate life. There is need to recognize another kind of intimacy which, while involving deep understanding and sensitive response, does not depend upon a mutual opening of hearts. I am referring to what, fof lack of a better label, may be termed creative intimacy. The person who is capable of this kind of intimacy has reached a level of psychosexual development which permits committed and perceptive re-lationships without the reassuring prerequisite of secret emotional ties. The research physician who invents a novel and needed procedure, the archi-tect who designs appropriate housing for unique terrain and the scholar's treatise which brings order out of confusion are all examples of a com-mitment to intimacy. Each establishes a link between the complexities of external demands and inner personal resources. A celibate who is. capable of involved interest with a subject (e.g., Scripture), a place (e.g., his parish) or a group (e.g., the aged) is not apt to suffer from a sense of isolation. In short, it is possible to relate intimately to life by being deeply affected by and responsive to ideas, situations and problems without requiring sexual union or an emotional heart transplant as a condition for an enriching experience. The creative person's contributions to society are evidence of this unconventional form of intimacy. A second reason for focusing on creativity is that its place in the prep- Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 659 aration of men for celibate life has received insufficient attention despite the fact that it has long enjoyed a respectable status in educational circles. By way of illustration consider the following questions: (1) What priority do psychological screening programs place on identifying creative capacities in candidates for priesthood? (2) How much do we know (or utilize what is known) about how creativity may be linked to the sub-limation of the sex. drive? (3) To what extent are seminary educators con-tentto rely on those tired, thoughts which assert that creative individuals cannot survive seminary environments, are troublesome to superiors, and that creativity is largely a product of inheritance? It seems ironic that we who identify God as Creator, and man as having been created in his image can manage to prepare men for a celibate priesthood with so little emphasis upon the identification and encouragement'of creativity. Seminaries have yetto acknowledge through curriculum design that a celibate's creativity is a most valuable resource in coping with the daily stresses of life. In a previous section the question was asked, "What happens tO the celibate's deferred: generativity?" Perhaps another way of answering this question can be found in linking celibate status with creativity. Specifically, celibacy can be viewed as a distinctive means of being consciously cre-ative. In associating celibacy with creativity I am thinking of MacKinnon's statement that true creativity fulfills at least three conditions: (1)originality, (2) adaptiveness, and (3) realization .~7 As for the first (originality), celibacy is an idea that is always novel, unique, or at least statistically infrequent. As for the second point, celibacy is adaptive in that it serves to fit the situation of ministry to accomplish some recognizable g0al. And to the third condition (realization)~ celibacy involves sustaining the original work of Jesus and further extending it in time. With this perspective we may de-crease the likelihood that celibacy will be viewed as a static, asexual status. Instead, celibacy will be seen as a more active, generative relationship with the world. The Homogenous Environment Life in an all male environment is not an asexual experience. The stu-dent's premises about his sexual identity, his level of self-esteem and his interest in persons of either sex do not remain static during the seminary years as though preserved in a time capsule. They continue to be chal-lenged, modified and shaped' by the character of the environment. For many years the average seminarian lives, studies and recreates in an environment which provides minimal contact with or input from women. What lesson is learned by this absence of women? How well does this help seminarians make the transition to our highly seductive society? How does this prepare them to develop more than a theoretical understanding of the lrDonald W~ MacKinnon, "The Nature and Nurture of Creative Talent." Lecture given at Yale University,New Haven, Conm, April I I, 1962. 660 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 needs, abilities and conflicts of women who may come to them for counsel? Celibacy has to be lived in a heterosexual society. Rules against hetero-social contacts during periods of formation do not guarantee proper de-velopment. If seminarians have to compensate for the lack of women in their edu-cational experience, they will attempt to do so without the guidance of their faculty. They will use apostolic assignments or vacations to seek both heterosocial and heterosexual experiences which would otherwise be de-nied them during regular periods of education. In some instances, the relationships which develop will be maintained in secret. Such experiences are often invested with many romantic and sometimes bizarre fantasies of meaning. They also provoke much guilt and tension and sometimes incite fears which are repressed, producing unconscious conflicts with conse-quent anxiety. It has become increasingly evident that when problems of relating to women have to be faced in secret it makes for lonely failures. The seminarian who is separated and/or alienated from women for whatever reason (fear, ignorance, choice or official policy) must turn with more urgency upon himself or others in his immediate environment to meet his needs for recognition, affiliation and love. In such homogenous popula-tions, expressions of affection and physical contact are cautiously exposed and become over-invested with meaning. There is an ever present fear that such gestures will be interpreted as, or turn into, homos6xual intimacies. This kind of tension often remains unacknowledged, but is nonetheless virulent. It produces much frustration and resentment which is often en-countered by the psychologist in the form of depression, displaced ag-gression, problems of concentration, coldness in interpersonal contacts, compulsive masturbation, isolation, and the rise of tight cliques. Each institution should provide appropriate opportunities for seminarians to learn about, and become comfortable with, members of the opposite sex. "Social restrictions" and "sexual abstinence" should not be confused. The concepts are not isomorphic. Policies and regulations which forbid or delimit heterosocial contacts do not automatically insure healthy attitudes toward self-regulation or guarantee the development of the capacity for abstinence in later life. Celibates also need to realize that abstinence does not automatically confer the capacity to love people in general any more than incontinence in marriage increases love for someone in particular. Neither the frustration nor the expression of the sex drive is innately di-rected toward the good. The capacity for sex in humans simply endows them with the potential of becoming psychosexually mature. It is in inter-actions with others that opportunities for growth and understanding de-velop. The Environment's Models Seminary administrators must realistically assess the extent to which members of their faculty are prepared by virtue of education, experience Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 66"1 and personal disposition to participate in those aspects of the formation program which relate :to human sexuality. Many priests have had poor preparation and limited experience and would be ill at ease or unsuited for such responsibility. It would be unfair and unwise to neglect such con-siderations. If present faculty are not comfortable with their own sexuality or are incompetent in their understanding of it, they cannot project them-sel~, es as adequate role models or teach effectively. Example is stronger than precept. Students need visible proof that it is possible to be mature and well-integrated sexually in the priesthood. There is nothing more demor-alizing to seminarians than examples of underdeveloped faculty charged with responsibility for their preparation of a life of celibate ministry. Modeling is a powerful force for formation and growth. It assists the seminarian in coping with the stresses of his environment, aids in the development of responsibility and helps perpetuate the valu6s that define the priesthood. More than anything else, a seminary must offer models who are worthy of imitation. Such models should be capable of candid con-versations concerning celibacy. They should exhibit desirable patterns of male-female interaction. They should be persons who have not distanced themselves from their own sexuality. They should not be overly constricted academicians or overly eager confidantes who take students under their wing to protect them from conflicts with celibacy. The, y should be able to take questions from Students without becoming overly threatened, angry or embarrassed. They should be the kind of advisers who are not impelled to define venereal sin whenever a student discloses a sexual problem. I emphasize the importance of appropriate role models because they are the most available source of identification with the priesthood. Good mod-els teach and motivate simultaneously. On the other hand, poor models lead to unhealthy identifications and raise the anxiety leV,el of students. For example, seminarians exposed to poor models are apt to say to t.hemselves, "Will I turn out like him ?" when they should be saying about a good model, "I want to be like him." Healthy identification reduce~ fear and anxiety about the priesthood. When a seminarian can identify with an exemplary person, his sub-jectiv~ benefit is that he believes he is part of the exemplary person. When that happens, he is freer to ease away from infantile or regressive tend-encies. He gives up his more childish and selfish desires because he is acquiring positive, generative adulthood in return. Good faculty models can illustrate that genital expression is not the essence of warmth, masculinity, and friendship. Seminaries, like other educational institutions, have faculties which possess a range of competencies and wide variations in levels of maturity. This is not the issue. The significant issue is how we recognize this fact of life. This recognition should take the form of careful assignment of re-sponsibility in this area, use Of competent consultants, and support for regular in-service training and continuing education for the faculty. 662 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 With a view toward offering more specific suggestions for helping semi-narians' progress toward sexual maturity the following guidelines are offered: I. Maintain high standards in the selection of candidates. This would require'defining criteria, and training the admissions committee to do its job well. The seminary environment is not suited to be a place where major reconstructive therapy can be conducted. Persons of weak char-acter, sociopathic tendencies and serious personality defects may find the seminary environment a haven for their limitations, but once or-dained they do not make good priests. They eventually create compli-cated and expensive personnel-management problems, alienate the laity, perform po6rly and thereby threaten the work of their colleagues, and remain visibly inadequate models for attracting future vocations. 2. Provide professional counseling as a regular part of seminar3, services. This will enable students with relatively minor psychological problems to be assisted in their development. In addition, each seminary envi-ronnhent will inevitably produce certain situational dist~arbances in a proportion of its students. These are transient disorders from a mild to severe nature which occur without any underlying mental pathology. They represent normal reactions to such stressful factors as disruption of previously established interpersonal relationships, fear of faculty dis-approval and unfamiliar academic demands. It is important to detect and recognize such adjustment reactions quickly and have counseling ser-vices available to help students cope. Sometimes an orientation course for first year men will head off some of these situational disorders. 3. Course offerings in the area of human sexuality and the practice of celibacy should be characterized by providing: (a) competence: they should offer suffi~:ient scientific content and contemporary material to enable s, tudents to learn the facts, social attitudes and real problems associated with human sexu.ality; (b) comfort: opportunity to discuss, question and dialogue without threat of ridicule, embarrassment, or fear of faculty or peer censure; (c) conviction: conveying in unmistakable terms.that growth in psychosexual maturity is a life long task which is part of every individual's priestly responsibility. " 4. Include women in the program in more than token fashion. Women can contribute as lecturers, panelists, and consultants. A feeling of security with women and an appreciation of their needs, values and competencies cannot be acquired in an all-male program. Their inclusion should not be prompted by condescension. For example, they should be included not to demonstrate that "women think diffeyently," but rather that they do think. The exclusion of women .hampers seminarians' development more than it insures it. 5. Exercise greater care in assessing readiness for celibacy. Programs of formation may need to place greater emphasis on assessing an indi- Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development / 663 vidual's psychological readiness to commit himself to celibacy. One must not assume that a seminarian's advancement in academic prepa-ration is indicative of other aspects of his readiness for priesthood. Conclusion In this paper sexuality and maturity were discussed in relation to celi-bate development. By general comment and specific illustration I attempted to show that psychosexual maturity is not only an abstract concept .but also an identifiable reality. I also tried to indicate that progress toward psycho-sexual maturity is made more by choice than chance, more by intelligent effort than passivity. In the process of offering these comments much emphasis was placed on what seminary educators can do to foster healthy celibate development. It would be misleading to leave the impression that I wished to understate the role of the individual. The young celibate must be encouraged and assisted to develop an increasing level of personal accountability for his psychosexual functioning. This can only be accom-plished if we view immaturity as a responsibility, not a crime to be followed by punishment or self-hate. Now Available As A Reprint Psychosexual Maturity in , Celibate Development by Philip D. Cristantiello Price: $.60 ~per copy, plus postage. Address" Review for Religious Room 428 6301 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis Robert F. Morneau Father Morneau's name is familiar to our readers. He resides at Holy Reedemer Center and teaches at Silver Lake College; Manitowoc, WI 54220. In teaching people the truths about his Father's kingdom, Jesus often used examples from nature: the simple sparrow, the lush lilies of the field, the unfortunate fig tree, the nonverbal clues of the sky, the miraculous yeast. Through these concrete images, deeper mysteries were unveiled opening the minds and hearts of people to the marvels of God's gracious love. We can do no better than to fall back on nature to attempt, through the use of analogy, to ponde~ the multifold facets of our faith. From the world of biology comes the notion of homeostasis which can assist us in under-standing the necessity of grounding our lives on solid rock. Dr. Hans Selye summarizes the essential meaning of this biological principle: It was the great French physiologist Claude Bernard who during the second half of the nineteenth century--well before anyone thought of stress--first pointed out clearly that the internal environment (the milieu interieur) of a living organism must remain fairly constant despite changes in its external environment, lie realized that "'it is a fixity of the mi6eu interieur which is the condition of free and independent life.'" Some fifty years later, the distinguished American physiologist, Walter B. Cannon suggested that "the coordinated physiological processes which maintain most of the steady states in the organism" should be called "'homeostasis" (from the Greek homoios, meaning similar, and stasis, meaning position), the ability to stay the same, or static. Homeostasis might roughly be translated as 'bstaying power."'~ ~Hans Selye, M.D., Stress Without Distress (New York: J. B. Lippincott Company,1974), pp. 34-35. 664 Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 665 The homeostatic principle, as applied to the external world, needs little documentation as to its importance due to the writings in the field of ecology. What needs considerable reflection is the importance and meaning of spiritual homeostasis, that reality in our spiritual lives which is the force enabling us to maintain a certain level of stability despite radical and often-times violent changes in our external environment. Spiritual homeostasis is the cultivation of a certain internal stability, developed through grace and discipline, that enables a person to "weather" the trials, temptations and sufferings of life in a reasonable manner. Several examples from observable nature might help in understanding the notion of homeostasis. A palm tree survives the violence of a hurricane because its roots (homeostatic elemen~t) are deeply embedded in the soil; the March kite maintains a modicum of stability because of its carefully attached tail; the sailboat does not become the plaything of the strong breeze because of its rudder. Roots, a weighted rag, and a vertical board each provide stability despite elements of stress and strain. By way of comparison, each of us must face the demands of life, demands arising from within and without. If we are not to be carried away by the high winds of life, there must be some grounding element providing continuity and sta-bility. This essay is a consideration of this grounding, of our spiritual homeostatic principle. A note of caution is in order: the inward journey, made either to con-struct our inner principles or to examine the ones that already direct our lives, involves risks and the universal fears 9f travelers. Carl Jung wrote of these risks: Wherever there is a reaching down into innermost experien~:e, into the nucleus of personality, most people are overcome by fright, and many run away . the risk of inner experience, the adventure of the spirit, is in any case, alien to most human beings,z Of a!l the reasons for hesitating to make the journey, perhaps the great-est fear lies in the possibility that we will find nothing there--no homeo-static principle grounding our lives in "substance." For all our talk, re-flecting and apodictic shouting, the interior could be empty--and who could live if that were true? Dante, in describing the precious coin of faith (the ultimate homeostatic principle) and its fine attributes, dares to ask the fatal question: Well have we examined The weight and alloy of this precious coin; But tell me if thou hast it in thy purse? 3 ~C. G. Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections, recorded and edited by Aniela Jaffa, translated from the German by Richard and Clara Winston (New York: Vintage Books, 1961). pp. 140-141. 3Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy, translated by Lawrence Grant White (New York: Pantheon Books, 1948), Canto 24, p. 171. 666/Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Just as the kite's tail needs periodic mending, just as the sailboat's rudder needs annual repairs', just as the tree's roots need constant contact with the dark rich soil, so each of us must make our own inward journey, despite risks and fears, to examine the quality and growth of our ho-meostatic principle. Let us take St. Paul as our "case study" and attempt to isolate his homeostatic principle. Even if the attempt fails, enough insight, might be provided for each of us to either clarify or construct our own spiritua! anchor. Pauline scholars might opt for one of the following passages as being central to Paul's spirituality, central in that all of life's experiences might be related to it for meaning and insight: Let your thoughts be on heavenly things, and n6t on things that are on earth, because you have died, and now the life you ha're is hidden with Christ in God.4 And I live now not with my own life but with the life of Christ who lives in me? Though not excluding the central~messages in the above two passages, my own personal choice of Paul's homeostatic principle comes from a passage in his letter to the Ephesians: Blessed be God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. who has blessed us with all ihe spiritual blessings of heaven in Christ. Before the world was made, he chose us, chose us in Christ, to be holy and spotless, and to live through love in his presence . ~ Taking as an hypothesis, that "to live through love in his presence" was Paul's spiritual cable, what are some of the implication's of this homeostatic principle? To Live: Union with the Spirit The Pepsi generation shouts out the challenge: Come alive! Whether or not a carbonated soda can achieve such a towering feat ~could be ques-tioned; the challenge cannot. We are called to choose life (Dt 30:15-20), to share in the fullness of life (Jn 10:10), to live injustice, love and faith (Mi 6:8). Yet, because of collective and personal sin, our existences are frag-mented and our potential lies dormant under piles of "shoulds," "tomor-rows," and "new years." We see but do not comprehend, listen but do not understand, touch but remain unaffected. Walter Kerr sees our dilemma in this light: If I were required to put into a single sentence my own explanation of the state of our hearts, heads, and nerves, 1 would do it this way: we are vaguely wretched because we are leading half-lives, halfheartedly, and with only one-half of our minds actively engaged in making contact with the universe about us.r 4Colossians 3:2-3. (All scriptural quotations are taken from the Jerusalem Bible.) ~Galatians 2:20. 6Ephesians 1:3-4 (italics mine, indicating the Pauline homeostatic principle). 7Walter Kerr, The Declhte of Pleasure (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1962), p. 12. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 667 Every so often someone crosses our path whose very spirit exudes life. Sparkling eyes, a lightness of voice, gentle responses, all mark a sense of meaningand motivation. A personal creativity overflows, smoldering wicks and healing,crushed reeds (Is 42:3). Such a presence is anticipated with longing and remembered with joy. He gives life because he has life within. A .quality of transparency allows all he meets to. taste and see life itself. In the presence of such a life-giver the question spontaneously arises: "What is all .this juice and all this joy (Hopkins)?" The Christian traces such a spirited life to the Spirit. God the Father and "therisen Lord haye sen't, into all creation their Spirit. Whoever receives this Spirit truly comes alive. Whoever refuses the Spirit or fails to recognize the the Spirit's presence lives in darkness, half-alive, wallowing in ignorance and fear, fretting'in anxieties and tears, doubting the meaning of existence. A spiritless Macbeth, no longer able to sustain his guilt, attempts to pre-serve. a modicum of sanity,by denying,the meaning of life: Out, bul brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And t.hen is heard no more;it is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Sign.ifying nothing,s Without the Spirit darkness reigns and we curse that darkness. Life be-comes a burden too difficult to bear,and freedom a poisonous responsibility. St. Paul was graced with the gift of the Spirit. To live was to be in conscious, personal union, with this Reality and to act from this center. Three basic forms of acting out a Spirit-transformed mind and heart include a spirit of loving attention, a spirit of joyful mortification and a spirit of courageous action. Aliveness in Paul's life embraces a balanced life of prayer, asceticism and apostolate, all flowing from his being loved by God and attempting to live in return. The quality and tonality of,the response is crucial. Each of these three areas, though of significance in and of them-selves, is entirelydifferent when shared in fellowship with the Spirit and is essentially response, to a personal invitation to communicate with, to suffer with, and to work with the Spirit of the Father and the Son. This divine companionship doubles all the victories in .building up the kingdom and halves the apparent defeats. Spirit of loving attention. It is possible to be attentive to someone or something without love. The hostile stare or the crowded "personless" elevator ride are two instances. A vague'love is also possible, unable to center on a defined object: "I love humanity but find it difficult to love individual people." Such forms of attentiveness and unspecified love do not allow us to live fully, God's Spirit draws us to truly :see, perceive, com-prehend the creation in which we live. Pausing to be embraced by a spring 8William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act V, sc. v, lines 23-28. 661~ / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 flower, stopping suddenly to be swept heavenward by a starry night, being swept off one's feet by a warm night breeze are strains of deeper mysteries and realities. So many layers blocking our sensitivity must be penetrated if we are to be touched by outside realities; so much cluttering has made us inattentive to the voices of friends and the needs of the wounded, Poets are eternal prophets calling all of us to attention, to a loving attention of truth and beauty: Look at the stars! Look, look up at the skies! O look at all the fire-folk sitting in the air! 9 The homeostatic principle ("to love . . .") in the life of St. Paul con-tained a deep love and a profound concentration as he journeyed through life. Because of this not only the man but his writings are so alive. Spirit of joyful mortification. Paradoxically, life embraces death, self-actualization of necessity involves self-denial. Without reflecting on this phenomenon, most of us would have to struggle to accept the comple-mentarity of the living-dying mystery. Yet if we glance for a moment into the lives of people who have evidenced life to the full, we come across the fact of much voluntary suffering and dying. Teresaof Avila, called by God to reform her religious community, freely accepted the ridicule and ha-rassment that went along with this leadership role; Thomas More, request-ed by his king to sign his name to a document which would mean that his life would be spared, freely accepted death rather than lose his integrity and be unfaithful to his God; Cardinal Newman, drawn to the Roman Catholic Church, followed his religious belief in the face of the pain of being alien-ated from friends and kin by such a decision. In each case there was tremendous suffering; in each case there was new, powerful life. The de-mands were not limited to a giving of one's time and energy, rare com-modities in themselves, but a giving on a much deeper levbl: the giving of oneself. A denial of self for the sake of life we identify as mortification. Is it possible to speak of joyful mortification? Two considerations come to mind. First, there is joy in the act of mortification because the focus rests not on the suffering, though it is the immediate fact, but centers on the life that comes through the self-denial. Had Teresa of Avila dwelt on the sneers and raised eyebrows of some members of her order, her call to reformation could well have been delayed for some time; had Thomas More dwelt on the pain of execution, his commitment to the truth might have been threatened; if Cardinal Newman had centered on the anguish and affliction resulting from separating himself from so many dear friends, his conversion would have become increasingly difficult. The secret of their ability to deny them~ selves and accept the price of asceticism wasa vision of the good that would be achieved. "Joy is the knowledge that we possess something that is good" (Abbot Marmion). And though the good may well be miles down the road and a matter of long-range consequences, those who see are.enabled to joyfully deny themselves. 9Gerard Manley Hopkins, "'The Starlight Night." Spiritual Staying Power." Homeostasis / 669 A second, more powerful and more personal reason for joy lies in the fact that the Christian practices mortification in union with the. Lord. Just as Jesus suffered freely in reconciling the world to the Father, so too the Christian must pick up his cross voluntarily if he truly desires to share in the risen life. Failure to suffer in union with Christ runs the risk of self-righteousness, false pride and inevitable sadness. The grace needed is the generosity to do all things in Christ. Our fasting, our giving of time, our withhOlding that "brilliant insight''~° so that others might be free to speak, are all forms of denying self but in conjunction with the Lord. Joy results in sharing life together--whether that embraces health or illness, success or failure, peace or conflict--the important thing being the mutuality and not the positive or negative experience. Mortification takes on ful[ reality as one means of participation in the life of Christ. This fellowship, this partic-ipation, is the source of our joy. St. PauFs aliveness is characterized by both joy and mortification. His letters to the early ~Christian churches, permeated with so much suffering yet with an ex~ravaga~at generosity, provide us with sufficient evidence that Paul might well be a paradigm for all aspiring ascetics: For 1 am certain of this: neither death nor life, no angel, no price, nothing that exists, nothing still to come, not any power, or height or depth, nor any created thing, can ever come between us and the love of God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord?~ We are only the earthenware jars that hold this treasure, to make it clear that such an overwhelming power comes from God and not from us. We are in difficulties on all sides, but never cornered; we see no answer to our problem, but never despair; we ~ have been persecuted, but never deserted; knocked down, but never killed; always, wherever we may be, 'we carry with us in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus, too, may always be seen in our body. Indeed, while we are still alive, we are consigned toour death every day,.for the sake of Jesus, so that in our mortal flesh the life of Jesus, too, may be openly shown. So death is at work in us, but life in you?z Paul's homeostatic principle dealt directly witch the external pressures that could have possibly destroyed his internal equilibrium. Graced with the Spirit of joyful mortification, those pressures and possible destructive forces were turned into growth experiences. Spirit of courageous service. Living involves doing. Through the in-carnational activity of enfleshing one's mission in word and deed, St. Paul strove to realize his calling as the apostle to the Gentiles and to bring about the reconciliation which was the work of Christ. Paul's metabolism was seldom low. ,~fter rechanneling his energies beginning with the Damascus experience., he responded to God;s call in building up the kingdom of God. His activism flowed from interior prayer and self-denial. Paul's life was balanced and full. ~o,,. and when he saw that the splendor of one of his pictures in the Exhibition dimmed his rival's that hung next to it, secretly took a brush and blackened his own." Essay by R. W. Emerson entitled "Character." ~Romans 8:38-39. ~z2 Corinthians 4:7-12. 670 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 One central dimension of Paul's apostolic work was bearing witness to the good news of Jesus Christ, God's love made visible to the world, A typical example is recorded in the Acts when Barnabas and Paul arrive at Antioch. How many times this type of sharing must have happened: On their arrival they assembled the church and gave an account'of all that God had done with them, and how he had opened the door of faith to the pagans.~3 In this particular instance the message and faith sharing was received with openness and joy, and they remained in Antioch for some time. More often, in attempting to fulfill the task of being an instrument of God's saving power among men, Paul was rejected and sometimes 6eaten (Ac 14:19; 2 Co l l:24ff). Speaking the truth involved paying a pric~. But since the truth - leads to freedom, the goal of the spiritual life, Paul had to speak it to remain true to his calling. He did not take the adx;ice of the old Turkish proverb: "He that would speak the truth must have one foot in the stirrup.''14 Missioned, being sent, seldom is limited to verbal sharing. Such was the case with St. Paul. He was commissioned to heal by living out the message he preached. Paul was a battle scarred disciple: Paul's concern for the poor, his gathering of money, evidence a social consciousness; his commitment to and vision of God's universal salvific will elicited extravagant energies to actualize this goal; his unwillingness to impose himself on others, thus being a burden to them, meant the retention of his tent mak!ng profession. Sensitive to'a variety of human and spiritual needs, skilled with the competencies and graced with love, Paul reached out to his fellow pilgrims helping them to grow as humari beings and preparing them to experience the good news of God's mercy and love. "To live" embraces loving attention, joyful mortification and coura-geous service. Paul is a fine model in that he followed Christ so well. Every Christian is challenged to get caught up into this way of living. The fi~st integrating ribbon on the tail of.our March kite provides solid material for homeostasis. It balances, stabilizes, as well as anchors the Christian in some depth realities. "To live" is to be one with the Spirit of Jesus and the Father; it involves a sharing in the Spirit ofcontemplatik, e prayer, voluntary asceticism and social concern. Through Love: Union with the Risen Lord The central experience of human life is being loved. So important is this experience that without it there is no hope of happiness and~minimal ex-pectation for sanity. The good news contained in the life of Jesus testifies once and for all that everyone is loved, "that our own existence in fact testifies to nothing less than our being loved by the Creator.''~5 Objectively 13Acts 14:27. ~'~See John W. Gardner and Francesa Gardner Reese, Know or Listen to Those Who Know (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1975), p. 233. ~SJosef Pieper, About Love, translated by Richard and Clara Winston (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1972), p. 31. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 671 this is the~ase; Subjectively, whether ornot we come to taste the truth of God's love, this is the most significant question of our lives. St. Paul experienced God's love: what was objectively true from the first moment of his existence became subjectively a reality when he surrendered to the call of grace. Love experienced meant a rebirth which radically changed his entire existence. Throughout the rest of his life's journey and beyond, he lived "through love" in God's presence. Though Paul knew that God's love for him was triune, it was in and through Jesus that the Father's fidelity and the Spirit's indwelling were revealed. Thus, we can focus on the quality and texture of Christ's personal love for Paul as we examine the second element in the suggested Paulirie h6meostatic principle. In doing this we realize that Paul knew that c~on-version was primarily an interior reality touching the mind and hdart. His being thus transformed interiorly showed itself in the external conversion of life-style. It is the transforming presence of Christ in our hearts and the knowledge of this love in our understanding that brings about spiritual renewal: Out of his infinite glory, may he give you the power through his Spirit for your hidden self to grow strong, so that Christ may live in your hearts through faith, and then, planted in love and built on love, you will with all the saints have strength to grasp the breadth and the length, the height and the depth; until, knowing the love of Christ, which is beyond all knowle~dge, you are filled with the utter fulness qf God.~ ' To live through love means to live in Christ Jesus; to allow his wisdom to shape our attitudes, to surrender'to his affectivity which transforms our hearts, and to .be enabled through his power to share with others the gifts that we have received. Jesus' Wisdom To live in union with the loving Lord necessarily means to be embraced by his wisdom and to share in that gift. In the book of Wisdom we are told that the gift of wisdom has these traits: 1) wisdom is the consort of God's throne; 2) to lack the wisdom is to count for nothing; 3) wisdom knows God's works; she was present when the world was made; 4) wisdom under-stands what is pleasing in God's eyes; she teaches this; 5) wisdom knows and' understands everything,lr Insight and deep knowledge can be cold and sterile. Such is not the case of the wisdom of Christ in whi~zh Paul shared. Rather it was a loving knowledge leading the intellect to true and full understanding. Throughout the ages various writers have noted the' relationship between love and the cognitive dimension of human knowing: Thus love is the parent of faith.l~ ~SEphesians 3:16-19. ~TWisdom 9:1-6, 9-11. iSJohn Henry Newman, "Holy Scriptures" in Essays and Sketches (New York: Longman, Green & Co., 1948), p. 328. 672 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 We could almost say he sees because he loves, and therefore loves although he sees?9 What ha~ to be healed in us is our true nature, made in the likeness of God. What we have to learn is love. The healing and the learning are the same thing, for at the very core of our essence we are constituted in God's likeness by our freedom, and the exercise of that freedom is nothing else but the exercise of disinterested love--the love of God for his own sake. because he is God. The beginning of love is truth, and before he Will give us his love, God must cleanse our souls of the lies that are in them.2° To live through love means that the truth given us enables us to see and to believe. Jesus' love provides us with a vision of reality thereby scattering darkness and ignorance. Wisdom is to know the Father, a Father of loving fidelity and infinite mercy; our wisdom is to live from this central insight. "Through love" contains both a passive and active dimension: we are first loved in truth (passive) and then are missioned to reach out in deep concern (active). In the spiritual classic The Cloud of Unknowing, the importance of living and acting within God's love is stressed: The work of love not only heals the roots of sin, but nurtures practical goodness. When it is authentic you will be sensitive to every ne6d and respond with a generosity unspoiled by selfish intent. Anything you attempt to do without this love will certainly b~ imperfect, for it is sure to be marred by ulterior motives,z~ St. Paul told the Philippians to have the same attitude that Christ had. This exhortation was grounded in lived experience, for Paul had himself put on the mind and attitudes of Christ. Paul's vision, his judgments and con-ception of life resembled those of Jesus who focused on the Father. In the letter to the Ephesians, Paul gives evidence of how gifted he was with God's loving wisdom when, in his letter, he describes the divine plan of salvation (Ep 1:3-14). Two verses of that magnificent passage provide sufficient wit-ness to that wisdom: He has let us know the mystery of his purpose, the hidden plan he so kindly made in Christ from the beginning to act upon when the times had run their course to the end; that he would bring everything together under Christ, as head, everything in the heavens and everything on earth.22 Jesus' Affectivity To live through love for Paul was to experience transformation of one's heart. Paul was a man deeply in love; how else explain his commitment and unmatched zeal. The love of the risen Lord touched the very center of Paul's being in an intimate and personal way, resulting in a response of deep affectivity; his heart was on fire with the concern that Jesus showed him. Several centuries after Paul, another Christian underwent a spiritual heart ~9C. S. Lewis, A Grief Observed (New York: The Seabury Press, 1961), p. 57. Z°Thomas Merton, The Seven Storey Mountain (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1948), p. 451. ~The Cloud of Unknowing, edited by William Johnston (New York: Doubleday, Inc., 1973), ZZEphesians 1:9-10. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 673 transplant after much struggle. This was St. Augustine. He emerged from "surgery" with the strong convi6tion that true life must flow from the heart: Follow the Lord, if you will,be perfect, a comrade of those among whom he speaks wisdom, who knows what to distribute to the day and to the night, so that you also may know it and so that for you lights may be in the firmament of heaven. But this will not be done unless your heart is in it.~ If wisdom touches out.minds with truth, God's gracious love seeks to touch our hearts. Why is it that so many defense mechanisms come into play at this level? Perhaps the fear of intimacy makes us cautious; what will be-demanded if I allow the Lord entrance into my life? Paradoxically we seek and' need intimacy yet flee when it is offered. The conditions of intimacy--commitment, self donation, giving up self-sufficiency--give us cause to hesitate. The tragic possibility of "having no heart" or allowing our hearts to become hard and calloused are dreadful alternatives to intP macy. Literature often speaks to this point: But 1 feel nothing, she whispered to herself. I have no heart.~4 Pity me that the heart is slow to learn What the swift mind beholds'at every turn,~5 ¯ His sorrows will not be slight. His heart is proud and hard.2~ Jesus came to save the'whole person, and ali people. His love for us was integral and he sought a total response. Using the book of Deuteronomy, Jesus. teaches: "and you must love the Lord your God. with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength" (Dt 6:4-5). Realizing in faith that God first loved us, now weare to respond in love to a God who desires our hearts. Having' been gifted with love, we return that gift. by loving the Father as Jesus did and by serving in the building up of the kingdom. Jesus' Power As God's gracious love transforms the interior of the Christian life, creating a new heart and shaping a new mind, there are external mani-festations indicating a new, powerful wayof life. The power of Jesus was evidenced in his love, joy, peace, in his constant patience, goodness, kind-ness, in his trustful'ness, gentleness and self-control (Ga 5:22). Through these signs of the Spirit, the Father's love and mission were incarnated. Following the Master, Paul challenged the Galatians as well as hin~self~to live out these values. For the sake of clarification, Paul's letter to the people of Galatia also provided concrete instances of what happens when internal renewal of heart and mind has not taken place. The "old self" of indulgence and weakness surfaces when these results are present: ZSThe Confessio;~s of St. Augustine, translated by John K~ Ryan, Book XII1, Chapter 19 (New °York: Image Book, 1960), p. 350. 24Thornton Wilder, The Bridge ofSatt Luis Re3' (New York: Washington Square Press, Inc,, 1955), p. 112. ~Edna St. Vincent Millay's "'Pity Me Not Because the Light of Day." Z~Herman Hesse, Siddhartha. 674 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 fornication, gross indecency and sexual irresponsibility; idolatry and sorcery; feuds and wrangling, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels; disagreements, factions, envy; drunkenness, orgies and similar things. 1 warn you now, as I warned you before: those who behave like this will not inherit the kingdom of God'.27 In using the power given him by the Father~; Jesus brought about change and renewal in the lives of many. In calling Zaccheus down from the tree an entire household was converted; in washing the feet of the disciples they came to realize that to follow the Lord was,.t0 serve; in calling Mary by name in the garden, depression and fear gave way to hope and joy. The very presence of Jesus was power, transforming darkness~into light, doubt into faith, apathy into love. His gaze, the tone of voice, the transparency of the Father's love were creative for anyone with the eyes. of faith. When that faith, was not there, Jesus experienced the pain of powerlessness and he bore that cross with much pain: Wherever growth took place, Jesus, in humility, realized that it was rooted in the Father's abiding presence and an expression of the Father's love. Paul lived through love which Christ had for him; this love power m~ade the apostle to the Gentiles into a new man. Then, having experienced the burning power of God's call in Jesus, Paul was enabled in love to exert power in bringing others to the Father. In his letter to the Corinthians, Paul describes the source, purpose and strength of the Christian way of life: It is all God's work. It was God who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the work of handing on this reconciliation. In other words, God in Christ recon-ciling the world to himself, not holding men's faults against them, and he has'entrusted to us the news that they are reconciled. So we are ambassadors, for Christ; it is as though God were appealing through us, and the appeal that we make in Christ's name is: be reconciled to God.28 To accomplish the work of the Father, power was necessary. Paul was well aware that the gifts and energies given him were not for personal gain but for others. What mattered was that all people might be in union with God, that reconciliation become a fact. The vision of faith was translated into life through the strength and ~courage given by the Father. Paul became an ambassador; a messenger entrusted with precious news. Through the power of proclamation and the courage of deeds, Paul shared the message of God's loving forgiveness with the people of his day, and with. us who are privile'ged to read his letters in faith. To live through love, then, meant for Paul a dwelling in the love of Christ Jesus. Through grace he would take on the mind and heart of the Lord as well as the power of his hands. Living through love implied an imperative: through his personal love for his fellowmen, Paul must continue the process of conversion in the lives of those whom he was called to serve. The gift given, God's love and forgiveness must be passed on. 27Galatians 5:19-21. 282 Corinthians 5:18-20. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasisr / 675 In His Presence: Union With the Father Several years ago~ I was speaking with a friend about the well-being of a former classmate. His response was simple and profound: "He's all right, he lives in His presence." This type of centering provides peace and be-comes the source of a "holy" life. Monica, the mother of Augustine, lived in the land of faith. Her son writes: o ¯ . . and she h'ad you (God)oas her inward teacher in the school of her heart . Whosoever among them khew her greatly praised.you, and honored you and loved you in her, because they recognized your presence in her heart, for the fruit of her holy ¯ life bore witness to this3~ C. S. Lewis, after the death of his wife, recorded an experience of presence that analogously applies to the God-man relationship: ¯ . . she seems to meet me everywhere. Meet is far too strong a word. l don't mean anything remotely like an apparition or a voice. I don't mean even any strikingly emotional experience at any particular moment. Rather, a sort of unobtrusive but massive sense that she is, just as much as ever, a fact to be taken into account,a° Faith draws us to the basic fact that the Father is always with us in a variety of ways.~The:problem is not so much cognitive as it'is experiential; through a lack of pro~er disposition we live outside of God's presence (this is sin at the deepest I~vel). God is still with us but w~ live as though this were not the case. ,, In his excellent treatise The Problem of~God, John Courtney Murray emphasizes t.he importance of presence: Over against the inconstancy and infidelity of the people; who continually absent themselves from God, the Name Yahweh affirms the constancy of God, his un-changeable fidelity to his promise of presence?~ He (God) is present as the Power. Presence involves transparency; one sees through the veil.of otherness into the other and knows his quality, intentions, attitudes. Thus, through h~s mighty works, God becomes transparent to hts people. He ts known to be present m ffi~thful goodness. : . . In all h~s works of judgment as of rescue, Yahweh becomes transparent, known to his people, who name him'from their experience of his works,a2 St. Paul cam~ to experience the pror~ise of God's dwelling with his people throug.h grace. Then, empowered;l~y the Spirit and 'h~aled through the power of JeSus, Paul could write to the Romans that "everyone moved b-Y the Slbirit is a son of GoiJ'~ find that it is~this Spirit that "makes us cry 6ut, ~abba, Father! . (Rm ~: 14-!$). Assuming the identity bf h so~, Paul j.ourneyed to the Father. ' ¯ zaConfessions, Book IX, Chapter 9, p. 220¯ abA Grief Observed, p. 22. aUohn Courtney Mut~'ay, The Proble'm of God (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1964), p. 11~ 321bid., pp. 14-15. 676 / Review for; Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 Father's Covenant The covenant theme is central throughout all of scripture. God's word reveals the mystery of his desire to dwell with his people in a close intimate relationship. God committed himself to beour Father~ and callS us to be his people. Thus in forming a nation through. Abraham; in giving the law and the prophets, in sending Jesus to reconcile, in forming a Spirit-filled Church, the Father continues to dwell in history, the God oftimg and space. St. Paul experienced the covenant relationship with the Father; he dwelt in the Father's tent, listening to the Father's voice and venturing f?rth to share that word with others. Refusal of God's covenant is sin. Acceptance of it is grace and life. Our home is to be with God. The psalmist knew the joy of dwelling with Yah-weh: A single day in your courts is worth more than a thousand elsewhere; ~, merely to stand on the steps of God's house is better than living with the wicked,a3 Paul had spent years living out the covenant relationship: With the encounter and surrender to Christ, he gained access to the Father'.s dwell-ing. Having tasted darkness, he now knew the warmth and light of grace. To live in his presence meant life itself; anything else was death: But because of Christ, I have come to con~ider all these advantages (of the Law) as disadvantages. Not only that, but I believe that nothing can happen that will outweigh the supreme advantage of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For him I have accepted the loss of everything, and I look on everything as so much rubbish if only I can have Cl~dst and be given ~ place in him.a4 Father's Kingdom and Will ,~ To live in the Father's presence means necessarily to get caught up into the kingdom and the will of God. "God's kingdom is no fixed, existing order, but a living, nearing thing. Long remote, it now advances, little by little, and has come so close as to demand acceptance. Kingdom of God means a state in which God is king and consequently rules."35 Indeed, for St. Paul the very presence of the Father within his life was synonymous with the surrender of his freedom. Decisions now w~re made in faith and out of love; freedom given meant freedom gained. By relating all to the furthering of the kingdom, a deep singleness of the heart (purity) governed and unified the apostle's life. All was new. The kingdom is achieved by doing the Father's will. Jesus' obedience unto death was the paradigm. Paul's highly developed sense of discernment allowed him to hear the voice of the Lord and the grace of the moment meant a response in faith. This listening and responding pattern charac- 3aPsalm 84:10. a4Philippians 3:7-9. a~Romano Guardini, The Lord (Chicago: Henry Regnery Company, 1954), p. 37. Spiritual Staying Power: Homeostasis / 677 terized Paul's life; it meant that the Father's will was being accomplished. Paul's prayer for the Colossians indicates the centrality of God's will: ¯. we have never0failed to pray for you~ and'what we ask God is that through perfect wisdom and spiritual:understanding you should reach the'fullest knowledge of his will. So you~ will be able,~to lead the kind of life which the Lord expects of you, a life acceptable to him in all its aspects; showing the results in all good actions you do and increasing your knowledg~e of God.a6 Knowledge of the Father's will is no intellectual abstraction; it demands commitment and actions which are pleasing to God. This holy pragmatism stresses the dynamism of Paul's ministry and his challenge to those who follow tile Lord. To,~iive in his presence, with the implicit willingness to promote the kirigdom by doing the Father's will, means that selfishness and non-scrip-tural behavior are elements in opposition to the life of Christ. Yet these elements never t6t~lly disappear from life. There is that constant struggle to allow the Lord to truly be I~ord ofourqives; there are the perennial temff-tat~ ons that lead toward' idolatry and~ wedge things and people between ourselves and the Father. Paul's life had; to face the'se struggles; his life was one 'of continual conversion. His candid confession in his letter to the Rom~ins"(7:14-15) magnificently expresSes the inward division of every person. Only through the grace of Christ does healing take place and only through that grace can we center bn the Father's kingdom and will. Without it we flounder on stormy waters. Father's Honor and Glory 'Life invol~'es two essential questions: what we do and why we do what v~E ~o. This latter question deals with the motivation. Our intentions not only reve~al our philosophy of life bu~ ultimately give us our sense of iden-tity.~ The Christian challenge 'is to Center our lives on God, to serve and love for his honor and 'glory. Self-serving and self-preserving tendencies block purity of'intention. Constantly we a~e invited to ever deeper levels of convei~sion as we strive to focus our attention on the mystery of God. Often Paul directly called the people he served to recognize to whom all honor and glory belonged: Glory'be to him whose power, working in us', can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine3 glory be to him from generation to genera~tion in the Church and in Christ Jesus forever and ever. Amen.3r Glory to him who is able to give you the strength to live according to the Good News I preach, and in which I proclaim Jesus Christ. the revelation of a mystery kept secret for endless ages, but now so clear that it must be broadcast to pagans everywhere to bring them to the obedience of faith. , . . He alone is wisdom; give glory therefore to him through Jesus.Christ forever and ever. Amen.36 a~Colossians 1:9-10: aTEphesians 3:20-21. 38Romans 16:25-27. Review for ReligiouS, Volume 37, 1978/5 In return, my God will fulfill .all your needs, in Christ Jesus, as lavishly as only.God can. Glory to God, our Father, forever and ever. Amen.as Honor and glory are due to God because of his majesty. The believer breaks forth in praise when God reveals himself. It is, impossible to remain silent when Truth and Goodness and Beauty inundate the human spirit. Faith allows us to encounter the living and true God; Our response is that of praise. Using Thomistic theology, Gabriel Braso describes well the meaning of honor and glory: , Glory is clear knowledge together with praise of the excellence of a'nother: clara ' notitia cure laude. Honor is the ackno~vledgment of this same e~cellence. Honor and glory, then, are acts by which our intellect recognizes an excellence existing in another being and finds it worthy of praise. Our will, on its part, accepts this superi-ority as a good to which it is well to tend, and, rejoicing in that good which another. prssesses, proclaims it and bears witness to it before others.4° The atmosphere in which Paul lived, namely,0the loving presen~ze of the Father, provides the springboard for his work, personal relationships and prayer. Not only did the apostle~ attempt to do. what was good for the well.being of others, he also lived from a very specifi~ level of.inten-tionality; he lived for God's honor and glory. Certainly the quality of this motivation varied at times, but the ideal was ever before Paul and he strove for it with tremendous zeal and dedication. Because .of this, he could write to others that they should follow his example. Conclusion The spiritual life is our participation in the paschal mystery. By means of principles and guidelines we h~ive some directions providing a perspec-tive from which to live this life in Christ. A homeostatic principle,is .~n internal reality giving continuity and stability to the faith life, especial!y when experiences of fragmentation tend to upset that life or when doubts attack :the human heart stripping it of meaning and feel,i, ng. Each person is challenged to discover and cultivate a personal homeostatic principle; it may remain constant throughout life or be modified in various ways. Be-sides St. Paul, other believers have articulated well what possibly might be their grounding point in the Lord: Yesterday 1 had a good morning. Once again when I recollect myself, I again find the same simple demands of God: gentleness, humility, charity, interior simplicity; noth-ing else is asked of me. And suddenly I saw clearly why these virtues are,demanded, because through them the soul becomes habitable for God and for one's neighbor in an intimate and permanent way. They make a pleasant cell of it. Hardness and pride repel, complexity disquiets. But humility and gentleness welcome, and simplicity reassures. These "'passive" virtues have an eminently social character.41 3aPhilippians 4t29-30~ 4°Gabriel M. Braso, O.S.B., Liturgy and Spirituality, translated by Leonard J. Doyle (Col-legeville, Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 1960), p. 59. o ~ 4IRaissh's Journal, presented by Jacques Maritain (Albany, NY: Magi Books, Inc.,1963), p. 71. Spiritual Staying Power: H~meostasis / 679 . my sole desire is that His name be praised, and that we should make every effort to serve a Lord who gives us such a reward here below . 4~ Lord, who has form'd me out of mud, And has redeem'd me through thy blood, And sanctifi'd me to do good; Purge all my sins done heretofore: For I confess my heavy score, And I will strive to sin no more. Enrich my heart, mouth, hands in me, With faith, with hope, with charity; That I may run, rise, rest with thee.4a Human life is lived at various levels. At times the surface of our lives can be filled with turmoil and anxieties while there is peace deep within. At other times, extei'nal forces are calm but our hearts are agitated and rest-less. This essay suggests that St. Paul was able to deal with the pressures, anxieties and trials of life because his life was grounded in God's life. Paul's desire, was "'to live through love in His presence." This homeostatic prin-ciple provided' stability and continuity as he sought to "run, rise, rest" with God. 4~The Complete Works of St. Teresa of Jesus, translated by E. Allison Peers, II (London: Sheed and Ward, 1946), p. 268. 43George Herbert, "Trinity Sunday." All I Needed Was the Violet The overwheimin~ evidence of your magnitude, O God, i~sdisplayed in the sequ0yia forest,~ the snow,crowned towering mountains, the throbbing pulse of the swaying oceans, the~ measureless ga!axies of tinknown space, and also in the perfection and beauty of a tiny violet. To believe in you, an~l to bow down in worship, all I needed ' was the violet. Everywhere I find you, , Your bountiful, awe-inspiring, praise-producing, heart-stirring, mind-boggling, argument-ending remin~lers are just too overwhelming for me. Viola Jacobson Berg 5 Roosevelt Ave. Malverne, NY 11565 Mount Athos: The Holy Republic Michael Azkoul Father Azkoul, a priest of the Russian Orthodox Church, has taught Church History at St. Louis University, as well as in other institutions. Presently he is attached to Seminex (Luth-eran Seminary in Exile) of St. Louis. He is married, with two children. He resides at 912 Bellstone Rd.; St. Louis, MO 63119. Mount Athos or "The Holy Mountain" is situated in northern Greece, on the Chaicedonean peninsula. Since 1922 this colony of monks has been a republic, a legally constituted political entity, a cluster of monasteries-- stauropeion, as the Orthodox say--immediately subject to the jurisdiction of the Patriarch of Constantinople. The Holy Mount is dedicated to the Blessed Virgin who, it is said, led its first inhabitants, perhaps as early as the sixth century, to establish this religious sanctuary where no female is allowed--nor "female animals-or beardless boys." There have been as many as 40,000 monks on this tiny strip of land jutting into the Aegean, but now Athos can hardly boast of 400 Who have surrendered themselves to the "life of the angels." The Holy Mountain has been crucial to the life of the Orthodox Church. Its monks have produced great music, art, theology, and given t6 the Church some of her greatest bishops and saints.1 Moreover, the history of Orthodoxy shows that monks, especially those of the holy mount, have been "defenders of the faith." No more typical example can be found than their behavior during the Iconoclastic Period when the Empress Theodora found the support of monks indispensable in her effort to restore icons to the Church. Her victory is commemorated on the first Sunday of the "Great ~Monk-saints of Athos are usually called Hagiorite, that is, of the holy (hagios) mountain (oros). 680 Mount Athos: The Holy Republic / 68"1 Lent," as the Sunday of Orthodoxy. This Christian triumph over Hellenism was as monastic as it was,ecclesiastical. The historical value of monasticism to the Church notwithstanding, its importance to Orthodoxy as the supreme embodiment of her Weltan- Schauung is what concerns us here: Mt. Athos as the microcosm of the whole, of Orthodoxy and monasticism, this is the special object of our attention. In truth, one cannot understand the Eastern Church unless one grasps the meaning of her monasticism. In other words, monks are not a class above the Church, but the highest stratum within the Church. They are "'the true and authentic Christians," as St. Basil the Great called them. Monks and nuns are the dynamis of Orthodoxy, its spiritual heroes, the archetypes of its piety, models of chastity, the totally committed who most perfectly express the first principle of Orthodox spirituality, "voluntary obedience.'" They are those Christians who mysteriously perfect the Church and the entire human race by perfecting themselves. Recognizing that the Church is divine and human, even as Christ himself, we come to understand what it means that they are eager to sanctify time, to bring creation closer to the end for which the Christian economy was re-vealed- the deification of the cosmos. The Nature of Orthodox Spirituality The Orthodox Weltanschauung is ascetical. This means that monks are not an erratic or exotic element in the Church, but her chief representatives. Their lives are a statement of denial as well as of affirmation: monks affirm the Christian revelation as the introduction of new life into an age domi-nated by the devil. Satan is the "god of the age," its very zeitgeist. He is the one to whom mankind was yoked by Adam's sin, the ancestral sin which rendered his posterity the heirs of bodily corruption and death. "Where-fore, as by one man sin entered the world and death by sin," St. Paul teaches, "0n account of death all have sinned" (Rm 5:12). In other words, man is not so much a scoundrel as a victim. Human suffering is not the result of God's punishment or vengeance, but the consequence of the devil's power over us through death--the last enemy. Thus, God became a man to destroy the devil and death, not to satisfy some debt incurred by humanity through the sin of Adam.~ For the Orthodox, there is no "original sin," as Augustine and the West have so long believed, only an act of disobedience which inaugurated de-monic tyranny. Baptism, therefore, does not eradicate an "inherited guilt" transmitted by procreation. How, indeed, as Pelagius asked the Augus-tinians, is "original sin" passed to the children of baptized parents if bap- ZSee J. S. Romanides, "'Original Sin According to Saint Paul," St. Vladimir Seminary Quar-terly. IV, I-2 ( 1955-1956), pp. 5-28. Fr. Romanides blames Augustine of Hippo for altering the Church's traditional understanding of Adam's sin and its consequences: and, therefore, the Christian theology of baptism. Review for Relig, ious, Volume 37, 1978/5 tism washes it away? Nor does baptism involve the complete regeneration of human nature--which would necessarily destroy even the capacity to sin. Rather, baptism removes the individual from the tyranny of the devil and incorporates us into the life of "the Second Adam," that is, the Church, the body of Christ, the new humanity, "the race of Christians," as St. Justin Martyr referred to the People of God. Moreover, the mystery of baptism initiates the process of deification--"the new birth," the process of our spiritual perfection through grace (which in Orthodox theology means God's "uncreated energy" extended to creation). We belong to that level of being in which the acquisition of the Holy Spirit, the "Giver of Life," becomes our r?tison d'ktre. In Christ, he is the Deifier. In the Church, the process of deification (salvation) involves, to be sure, prayer, fasting, the Mysteries (sacraments), saving knowledge (the "knowl-edge" of spiritual things, gnosis) and the constant struggle with the pas-sions, the struggle to overcome our Adamic nature, our mortal nature, .to overcome death, wrestling with devil while ascending the "ladder of per-fection," to borrow a phrase from St. John of the, Ladder (Climacus). The passions darken reason and enervate the will: they destroy freedom. Freedom is an internal condition, "the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free., from the yoke of bondage" (Ga 5:1). Thus, it does not mean, in the first instance, political or economic rights. These cannot exist unless we have been unchained from the Evil One who, as we have implied, seeks our negation through the passions, the perverse powers of our fallen nature, our nature yoked to death, to dying. We recognize the passions as pride or self-love, jealousy, lust, hate, contentiousness, despair, etc. There are passions of the body and passions of the soul, as St. Gregory of Sinai reminds us. They dwell in us from birth :and are aroused and strengthened by our environment, that is, by the devil working through our psyche, or by persons and things. The devil combats grace by the passions. Despite the Holy Spirit, our guardian angel, the ¯ intercession of the saints, we can lose our souls if we do not perceive the guile of the devil and undertake to oppose him; indeed, without the struggle, the Christian will soon fall away from the Church and into the power of the devil once more. As we have said, the passions are the means by which the devil seeks to recapture.us. He can get us back by winning our "heart," the spiritual citadel of man, the "subconscious," as some Orthodox theologians call it. (Orthodoxy, following the Fathers, has never viewed the "heart" as "the seat of the emotions~ especially love.") All instruments of reason are im-potent to search the abyss of the heart, although, as St. Symeon the New Theologian observed, discursive reason is given the role of "sentinel." The heart is that by which we believe unto salvation, by which we see God if our heart is pure (Mt 5:8: Rm 10:9), but also that from which, according to the Lord, "proceeds evil reasoning, murder, adultery, fornication, theft, lying, blasphemy .'" (Mt 15:19). Mount Athos: The Holy Republic No wonder, then, the Fathers admonish us to "guard the heart," to protect it from anything or anyone who might injure it, from any situation which leads to separation from God's grace. We may "'guard the heart" through obedience, humility, chastity, prayer, the Mysteries and, in par-ticular, by controlling the faculty of the "imagination." This is that power of the mind whereby it creates images, which forms sense-data into co-herent patterns, which allows the mind to visualize and, consequently, to judge and act. As the Greek Fathers say, every passion is the result of a "'sinful image." Reason may alert us to the danger, but if we cherish the "'sinful inlage,'".ifwe nourish and remember it--as one might past insult or betrayalBthen it overwhelms reason, penetrates the systems of conscious-ness and plunges into the heart. The "'sinful image" reemerges as a "pas-sion," the irrational force which comes to determine our thought and con-duct. Only strenuous ascetic exercise can purge the heart thereafter. The great weapon of protection and purgation is "the name of Jesus." His name is a terror to the devils, said St. Barsanuphius. We may pray, 'bLord Jesus Christ, Thou Son of God, have mercy upon me, a sinner." The "desert fathers" recommend that this prayer be repeated slowly, quietly, sincerely. When said with.faith and understanding, it is not "vain repeti-tion." It becomes important to spiritual and mental health. Some Fathers have been known to have recited the "Jesus rPrayer'' all through the night--a prayer "without ceasing." Rightly practiced, it will eventually pass to and mysteriously, effortlessly, beat witti the organ of the heart. The "Jesus Prayer" becomes.the automatic "'Prayer of the Heart." Admittedly, those who have reached this perfection are very few. They are also those men and women who may preview already on earth the joys of heaven."~ Let us make one thing clear before we proceed. According to the Ortho-dox Church, "the religious experience" is never wholly "private" and never "anti-establishment." To be sure, the quality and intensity of that experience depends upon the holiness of the individual, but it is an ex-perience which transpires within the Church. We may call it "mystical," if we wish, but it is not the "'mystical experience" of a special person, a psychedelic, insulated, isolated, exotic, mayhaps erotic experience. In Orthodoxy, the "religious" or "'mystical experience" of any of her mem-bers- including the holy monk and nun--is the experience of the entire Church, relative, as we said, to the degree of sanctity. The Church is a soborny, a mystical, organic fellowship of believers, if for no other reason than that of the Holy Eucharist, "the mystical supper~" as St. John Chrysostom called it, enjoyed by all the faithful. " In connection with this matter, too, is the teaching of'the Eastern Church that truth is the product of mystical experience, that is, dogma is the product of holiness, not of ratiocination. But if truth follows from holiness, 3The Orthodox Church rejects the idea of the "'beatific vision" if by that is meant beholding the Essence of God, whether in this life or the next. The saved will see only the deified Christ "'face to face" (see Vladimir Lossky, The Vision of God: London, 1963). 684 / Review for Religious, Volume 37, 1978/5 then there is no surer vehicle of divine revelation than the monk, he who has committed his entire life to the fight with the devil and the struggle with the passions. As a matter of historical fact, the greatest teachers of the Church have been monks, whether clergy or not. It is correct to say, however, that the supreme witnesses to the Christian faith have been monks who were also bishops, since bishops have almost invariably drawn from the monastery. The bishop has sometimes been an abbott or "'elder" (staretz, geron) whose reputation for holiness and wisdom is unsurpassed. Historically, he was the confessor and counselor of kings and queens. Furthermore, the Orthodox Church has never failed to contain .great women ascetics, many of whom have been found in the convent. Through-out the centuries, they have been persons to whom Christians have turned for wisdom and consolation. Although women cannot teach in the Church nor become priests, they have been miracle-workers, iconographers, poets, models of virtue. St. Mary of Egypt dwelt in the desert for more thanforty years. By her miracles and preachment, St. Nina was ,the converter of Georgia in Russia. Numerous women saints have been given the honorific title "Equal to the Apostles," such as St. Helena, mother of the Emperor Constantine. The abbe

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

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

Issue 53.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1994. ; Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUaRY 199Zl. - V6LUME ~; ¯ NUMBER 1~o Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universi~ by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ Fax: 314-535~0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ¯ Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1994 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC 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 JANUARY-FEBRUARYI994 ¯ VOLUME53 '* NUMBER I contents feature Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God Elizabeth A. Johnson CSJ relates the stress within religious life to the loss of traditional God images and the search now for the hidden face of the living God. 29 43 58 toward the synod The Consecrated Life in Church and World Bishop Jan P. Schotte CICM explains the synod of bishops, with brief descriptions of previous ones and the 1994 synodal process. Charism, Charisms, and Faddism A. Paul Dominic SJ brings clarity to the Lineamenta treatment of the charism of religious life and the charisms of its many con-crete forms in various congregations. Hopes for the Synod and Beyond Joel Giallanza CSC focuses his attention on the identity and mis-sion of apostolic religious congregations and their relationship to the hierarchy. 64 73 82 mission and ministry Images of Hope in an Inner-City Parish George M. Anderson SJ shows God working in unlikely places, making use of humble and broken people to advance the values for which Jesus died and rose. A Bracelet of Elephant'sHair Jo O'Donovan RSM shares her sabbatical experience of an "outer" and "inner" Africa. The Modern Development of Messianic Prophecy Allen S. Maller presents for our ecumenical consideration a deeply felt Jewish view of Messianic meaning and fulfillment. 2 Review for Religious experiencing the spirit 89 Living in the Womb of God Marion Zeltmann PCPA reflects upon her experience of enclosure and prayer as a Poor Clare. 95 Do I Really Believe that Death Leads to Life? Francis Blouin FIC suggests some practical ways of responding to the current dyings manifest in religious life. 102 A Rite for Those Departing Religious Formation Peter A. Lyons suggests positive and wholesome ways in which individuals departing from religious life and ~he community mem-bers who remain might deal ritually with this reality. 107 120 130 religious life issues Integrating Human Needs in Religious Formation Howard J. Gray SJ suggests ways of viewing human needs as "longings," radical desires to be integrated in the art of religious ministry. Chapters Present and Future Catherine M. Harmer MMS reviews the history of chapters in reli-gious life and raises questions about their future functioning. Religious Life, a Continuum Francis Assisi Kennedy OSF examines, historical beginnings of reli-gious congregations for patterns surprisingly serviceable today. departments 4 Prisms 142 Canonical Counsel: The Conciliar Decree Perfectae Caritatis 149 Book Reviews Jan~mry-February 1994 3 prisms 1994--a year still to be lived, a year yet to pass into history. For most people there is a healthy anticipation of "good things" when new begin-nings are made. Perhaps such "anticipation" should be called, rather, a precious grace which interconnects us with God, the eternal optimist. New evangelization is the most consistently optimistic theme of John Paul II's papacy. While his encyclicals and apostolic exhortations are many and weighty (witness the most recent Splendor of Truth), I suspect that his repeated call to a new evangelization will be the most significant and lasting grace for the church. The call is a beginning similar to the beginning of a year; it is not as if evange-lization is any newer than the parade of days which form any year's calendar. The newness in large part comes from the attitude with which we enter into evangelization, just as it comes from the way we enter into another year. The oft-quoted phrase about this call to evangelization being "new in its vigor, new in its methods, and new in its expression" is grounded in the attitude which we bring to our Christian responsibility as evangelizers. Attitude alone is not enough, but unless the grace of optimism warms our efforts as believers in Good News to share it and explain it and to offer people a challenge, little evange-lization is the result. Do members of religious congregations need to see a more intimate connection between the new evangeliza-tion and their own efforts at renewal? Since all forms of Christian life come from our having the gospels in our blood, it would seem obvious that an evangelization effort promotes effective renewal. The gospels not only have 4 R~,iew for Religio~s inspired the different forms of religious life, but also have helped shape its various expressions and methods. Men and women moved by the Spirit of Christ have gifted the church with at least three prismatic "colors" of Christ-following that look monastic or mendicant or apostolic. The question remains for us today who have been illumined by these various Christ-prisms how our gospel-inspired attitude can reveal the graced mystery of this life-form in terms of new depths of meaning and new ways of expres-sion- in the very heritage we claim. The darkness we feel comes not from Jesus, the light-source whom we follow, but from our own self-chosen, squint-eyed angle of vision having so little to do with grace or gospel. So often our efforts at renewal seem more a vain search for one "tree of life" instead of for the God who gives all created gifts for our creatively discerned use. Optimism marks the effort of anyone who begins something. An evangelical optimism seems almost lacking both in internal reli-gious congregation renewal attempts and in hierarchical control efforts. As we begin this year of the synod on consecrated life, our prayer for ourselves and our church begs again for that grace dear to our God imaged as the prodigal parent who expects the son (and daughter) to be coming up the road--the grace of opti-mism. As we begin this new volume, Review for Religious warmly welcomes Regina Siegfried, a member of the Sister Adorers of the Blood of Christ, Ruma province, as associate editor. She serves currently as assistant professor of historical studies and spiritual-ity at Aquinas Institute in St. Louis. Former editor of Spirituality Today, she is well known for her books Selected Poetry of Jessica Powers, edited with Bishop Robert Morneau, and In the Company of Preachers, edited with Edward Ruane OP. Review for Religious accepts graciously the loss of Michael Harter SJ as associate editor. In his new role assignment as direc-tor of novices for the Jesuit Missouri provirice, he can assure young candidates' solid formation through their familiarity with articles from Review for Religious. So in losing an editor, I am sure that we are gaining a number of new subscribers. Just as he leaves this media field, his prayer book, Hearts on Fire: Praying with Jesuits, has been published by the Institute of Jesuit Sources in St. Louis and is already in its second printing. We wish him well and know that we will miss him. David L. Fleming SJ January-February 1994 5 feature ELIZABETH A. JOHNSON Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God As the third millennium of the Western, Christian calen-dar approaches, all manner of assessments are being made about what will fade into history and what will newly flourish in the year 2001 and afterwards. It does not take a new millennium, however, to see that religious life in the United States is passing through an epochal change, the outcome of which in terms of fade or flourish is an open question. The research project "The Future of Religious Orders in the United States," conducted by David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis under the sponsorship of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops, the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, and the Leadership Council of Women Religious, sets out fully aware of this moment in history2 The original proposal for this study underscores the rad-icality of the journey now underway. Religious orders, it notes, are in the midst of a process of transformation, defined in categories from the social sciences to mean: The operation of changing (as by mapping or through strategies) one configuration or expression into another in accordance with a rule, a purpose or mission. Elizabeth Johnson csJ is associate professor of theology at Fordham University. This article will be part of a companion book to The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment, (Praeger Publishers, 1993) by David J. Nygren and Miriam D. Ukeritis. Her address is Department of Theology; Fordham University; Bronx, New York 10458-5165. 6 Review for Religious Such change, furthermore, involves: qualitative, discontinuous shifts in organizational members' shared understandings of the organization, accompanied by changes in the organization's mission, strategy, and formal and informal structures. The most basic questions of group and individual identity, involving who religious are, how they are to live, what they are to do, and why, are all at stake. Religious orders in this country, the proposal continues, are in the midst of a transformative process so profound that it will lead to the demise of some, the revitalizing of others, and the birth of new forms of the evangelical life as yet unimagined. The aim of this research project is to identify factors within religious orders themselves that will contribute to a suc-cessful outcome of this major metamorphosis. Recent historical studies have unveiled a heartening picture of how the evangelical following of Jesus in the church, traditionally called "religious life," has been incarnated in a great diversity of forms. From monastic to mendicant to apostolic communities, to mention but a few of the more widespread models, new forms of this living movement have consistently emerged from the insights of individuals and groups responding to the Spirit in the crucible of cultural change. A compelling interpretation of the present sit-uation holds that in the United States, at least, the present crisis of religious orders signals yet another breakthrough in the many-faceted evolution of forms of the evangelical life. If this be true, this is the first time in the history of the church that members of religious orders in a time of transition have been so self-con-sciously aware of their situation and so equipped with the tools of modern research that they can reflect on and even direct the pro-cess of change. The purpose of this essay is to provide a theological context for the data that follows. It is important to note that this essay was commissioned, designed, and largely written before the research project was completed. Therefore it should not be read as an interpretation of the project's findings. Rather, it is intended as an independently conceived reflective piece on this moment in the history of religious life. To .contextualize the report that follows, this essay first surveys the state of the question in contemporary literature on religious life and then identifies a basic shift occur-ring that affects all the rest and that holds great portent for the future, namely, a change in the experience of God.2 January-February 1994 7 Johnson ¯ Between the Times The living tradition of the change of forms of religious life is still alive; the great cycle of death and rebirth is turning once again. State of the Question Starting in the late 1970s, a number of excellent works have contributed to discussion of the meaning of religious life and have expressed the emerging self-understanding of religious them-selves. Written by or available to members of religious orders in North America, the list includes works on the history, sociology, and theology of the life as lived by both women and men in general,3 as well as works that focus on the experiences of women4 or men5 in particular. The imagery and language of these writings reflect the enormous tension in the state of the question, both as lived and reflected upon. There is a prevalence of "re" words: revitalize, refound, rein-terpret, reimagine, reweave, redefine, rebirth. Metaphors point to new creative acts: pouring new wine into new wine-skins; reweaving the threadbare cloth; standing at the crossroads and discerning the way ahead; planting new seeds; mid-wiring a birth; bringing order out of chaos. The focus is consistently on the future: shaping the coming age, strate-gizing for growth, negotiating the challenge of change, claiming identity, being converted. Individual differences of approach in this literature recede when compared with the convergences that these writings dis-play. Virtually all of the authors are seized by the conviction that in the Western democracies the missionary and apostolic mod-els of religious life, prevalent for the last two hundred years, are dying. Relatively speaking and in some cases literally, "there is no one behind us." But this does not mean that religious life itself is dying, for no one form has ever been definitively lasting as the predominant form for every era. What it may well mean, however, is that the living tradition of the change of forms of religious life is still alive; the great cycle of death and rebirth is turning once again,6 The present malaise and decline, if lived through with discernment, fidelity, and courage, can lead to new, yet-to-be-determined forms commensurate with the cultural realities of the third millennium. 8 Review for Religious This being the case, the literature is replete with enlighten-ing analyses of ecclesial and cultural factors at work in the present changes. It also indicates that a strong consensus is taking shape regarding the way forward. A prophetic stance suffused with con-templation is being glimpsed as the crucial spiritual force that seeks expression in coming forms of religious life. Both the anal-ysis and this key proposal are surveyed here as interesting in their own right and as factors that themselves point further to a foun-dational experience of God. Changes in Church and Society The literature agrees that the most important ecclesial factor underlying the shift in religious life's self-understanding contin-ues to be Vatican II's two-pronged theological articulation of the church's identity and mission. Ad intra (internally) the church is first and foremost the people of God, with every member conse-crated by baptism and empowered to life in Christ. The conse-quent universal call to holiness undercuts the traditional notion that religious life is an elite state of perfection whose members are spiritually set above ordinary lay people. Rather, religious live out their call to holiness as a sacrament or sign to the whole church of its Spirit-filled vocation. Ad extra (externally) the church is to turn pastorally toward the world as God's good creation, marred by sin but redeemed by Christ and worthy of attention. The mission of the church in the world undermines the tradi-tional dualism between the sacred and the secular, along with the concomitant idea that religious should be set apart from the world. Rather, they are to live in relation to the world, not over against but ~vith and for, in criticism and compassion. The conciliar shift from a juridical to a more-biblically-based pastoral identity and mission, still being contested and negotiated in the church at large, undergirds the changes in self-understanding, lifestyle, and ministry that now affect traditional forms of religious life. Since the council, additional ecclesial factors have appeared that continue to impinge upon religious life in the United States. The ongoing efforts by religious orders to reinterpret founding charisms is occurring in the context of postconciliar reinterpre-rations of the Catholic biblical, theological, and liturgical tradi-tions themselves. The infusion of insight from these sources is resulting in new and influential understandings, such as the rad- .January-Febrnary 1994 9 Johnson ¯ Between the Times ¯ ical equality of all in baptismal grace. Furthermore, the postcon-ciliar explosion of lay ministries, both ecclesially sponsored and lay initiated, is multiplying the possibilities open to those who wish to serve in the church beyond the confines of traditional religious life. At the same time it creates a situation of shared, collabora-tive ministry between religious and the laity. In these same years, the original immigrant church in this country has reached mainstream status with the majority of its members moving into the middle class. More options for service and advancement have opened up in the civil sector, lessening the church's attraction as the primary field for a dedicated life. In addition, the economic and educational mores of middle-class life coupled with the availability of birth control has resulted in the reduced size of Catholic families, thus shrinking the pool from which candidates for religious life were traditionally drawn. Meanwhile, a new wave of immigration from Latin America and Asia is presently changing the face of the church; one-third of Catholics in the United States are now Hispanic, half of whom are younger than eighteen years of age. Despite outstanding service on the part of some religious of European descent, however, dif-ferences of culture, race, class, and age, if not overt, prejudice, seem to prev.ent the majority of religious orders from making an effective case for their way of life to members of new immigrant groups. Eras do not repeat themselves. All of these ecclesial factors are playing out in the wider con-text of the church .becoming a world church, less European in character and belonging to all cultures; a church of the diaspora, less supported by a homogeneous culture and more a little flock in a pluralist world; and a church in interreligious dialogue, open to the wisdom of other great religious traditions. Social, economic, and political forces at work in the culture of the United States are also contributing to changes in religious life) These forces are many and complex, but several consistently surface in the literature: democracy, which yields a more partic-ipative rather than authoritative style of governance; global aware-ness, which subverts provincialism; growing consciousness of economic and social injustice at home and abroad, which demands action to relieve poverty and promote justice; pervasive violence, which highlights the need for teaching and modeling peaceful resolution of conflicts; materialism, which calls for a countercul-tural witness to simplicity of life and the value of the human over 10 Review for Religious the product; excessive individualism, which cries out for the anti-dote of a genuine community of free and responsible persons; ethnocentrism, racism, and insensitivity to other cultures, which needs the word of the gospel about the fundamental human dig-nity of every person; and feminism, which advocates the equal inclusion of women in that human dignity. The search in the United States for a new, more humane society among ourselves, between all nations, and between human beings and the natural world of this planet contextualizes and begins to inspire the search for new, vital forms of religious life. In a striking way, ecclesial and cul-tural factors have converged in the rise of Christian feminism and its influ-ence in women's religious orders. It is indisputable that women's insights into how to live the evangelical life have never yet been allowed full scope in the course of church history, even now. Perhaps it was the play of prov-idence that unleashed the conciliar reforms at the very moment that the women's movement was gathering force once again in the United States. It is indisputable that women's insights into how to live the evangelical life have never yet been allowed full scope in the course of church history, even now. In any event, while renewing their lives in the light of the gospel and their founding charisms and while strengthening their witness in the world, especially among those depriv.ed of human dignity, women religious became aware of themselves as women in a patri-archal church and society. They .began to notice the systemic absence and silence of women in church pol!cy-making bodies and ministries, its obvious connection with gender, and the result-ing pressures on the way they lived their lives. Contextualized by the women's movement in church and society, they began to find their own voice and to claim, even for themselves, the respect befitting a human person. Women's experience was affirmed as a legitimate if untapped source of knowledge about religious life and its ministry, prayer, community, and governance, and this found expression in their reflection, dialogue, and new constitu-tions. The result of this awakening was a release of energy that bore and continues to bear promise for the future of religious January-February 1994 11 Johnson ¯ Between the Times life. But it also brings conflict as men church authorities refuse to reverence or dialogue with the insights coming from women's experience, insisting rather on conformity to their own under-standing and law. At this point the alienation of legions of women in the church is a matter of public record. Women religious, too, know this darkness. But among women religious in the United States at the end of the twentieth century, the conviction per-dures that the goals of Christian feminism are fully in accord with the gospel. They continue to grapple with issues of identity and mission with the understanding that through their struggle the Spirit of God is offering a transforming grace to the whole church, although, terrifyingly, grace may always be refused.8 In and through all of this analysis of ecclesial and cultural factors that affect religious life today, authors have been seeking clues as to how this life will be able to flourish in the future. The search appears to be narrowing. Glimpse of a New Form: Prophetic, Contemplative Life In books and essays about religious life and in documents generated by religious orders and the national conferences, a new combination of ancient dements is beginning to define the essen-tial character of religious life. The emerging understanding of this life is primarily that of persons and communities called to prophetic ministry embedded in a contemplative relationship to God. Prophecy and mysticism, prophetic witness and contem-plation, will shape the evangelical life of love of God and neigh-bor in its coming age. The two national conferences of men and of women religious place this insight at the head of the list of ten transformative ele-ments they identify for religious life in the future: 1. Prophetic Witness: Being converted by the example of Jesus and the values of the gospel, religious in the year 2010 will serve a prophetic role in church and society. Living this prophetic wimess will include critiquing social and ecclesial values and structures, calling for systemic change and being converted by the marginalized with whom we serve. 2. Contemplative, Attitude Toward Life: Religious in 2010 will have a contemplative attitude toward all creation and be motivated by the presence of the sacred? 12 Review forReligious In a similar way the visioning groups studied in the Futures Project as well as those identified by the research as outstanding leaders consistently and vigorously endorsed the prophetic/con-templative stance. Far from being an esoteric perspective, this stance brings to light what is most basic in Christian faith and what the church itself needs to emphasize in order to thrive in the future. As Karl Rahner foresaw, the spirituality of the future will arise from rela-tion with the living God at the very heart of the world and con-sequently "will be a spirituality of the Sermon on the Mount and of the evangelical counsels, continually involved in renewing its protest against the idols of wealth, pleasure, and power.''t° This is the calling of the church as a whole, and religious life crystallizes and witnesses to this. The two constituent elements, prophecy and contemplation, can be distinguished mentally and examined separately, but in reality they form one living shape, one wholistic form, one gestalt of life. Asking which comes first is a chicken-and-egg kind of question, with no intelligible answer in sight.1~ Contemplation is a way of seeing that leads to union. It arises from an experience of connection with the sacred at the very core of life. Mediated, as always, by created things such as words, images, and actions, this relationship unfolds as persons and com-munities allow these mediations to lead them into the living pres-ence of the holy. Insofar as the created mediations themselves are transcended in contemplation, this experience counteracts the human effort to control the divine and instead delivers the spirit into the bright darkness of God. From one perspective, the con-nection with the sacred is a result of the inflow of the love of God inflaming and awakening the heart. From another, it entails the discipline of becoming fully conscious, journeying to one's deepest self and to the outer limits of the cosmos in order to touch the divine. In the process, the contemplative "knows" God not in an extrinsic, conceptual way but from within, experien-tially. At the very heart of existence one is in touch with holy mystery, a relation for which the I-Thou relationship among human beings is only a remote analogy. As a result, a certain intuition arises by which one begins to know and love the world as God does. This attitude is totally inclusive of all creation. Everything created is precious and sacred within the cosmic ambience of life and is cause for delight and January-February 1994 13 Johnson ¯ Between the Times thanks. But the evident brokenness of the world and damage done persons and other creatures are cause for grief, compassion, and protest. In some unspeakable situations,, the utter depravity of evil occasions the most profound, wordless hope against hope, without any supports, in the risk that God is faithful in judgment and grace. The contemplative attitude is thus not otherworldly but pro-foundly turned toward this world in celebration and resistance, knowing that the Creator is also the Redeemer. The prophetic lifestyle and action that express this way of seeing are not the result of simple humanism (although the world could use a lot more of this too) but of real belief in God. In solidarity with divine purpose for the world, prophetic persons and communities desire to restore right relationships and so to set right what causes pain and suffering. While this has always been the case, the hermeneutic of prophecy in our day with its sophisticated knowl-edge of systems realizes that the wounds of the heart also afflict culture. Thus prophetic witness includes critique not just of per-sonal acts but also of social, economic, and political structures and values in society. Knowing, too, that we are a sinful church always in need of repentance and reform, this witness is borne toward the values and structures of the community itself. The prophetic stance is marked by a number of characteris-tics. These include attentive listening to the creative Spirit of God, connecting with the suffering in a situation and evaluating its causes, naming what is unjust, being empowered to articulate an alternative future based on the dream of God for the world, bringing compassion and hope to the brokenness, and resistance and challenge to the status quo that would maintain it. In the process prophetic persons and communities strive to empower people in their struggle to live and survive, in turn being taught and empowered by them to continue to seek the face of God. In the Christian tradition this witness is shaped by the fol-lowing of Jesus, in whom the compassion of God takes flesh in the world. Contemplation and prophecy were indivisibly connected in his historical life. As Edward Schillebeeckx explains, "In the prophet Jesus, mysticism and healing came from one and the same source--his experience of the contrast between the living God and the history of human suffering." ~2 The reign of God that he announced envisages an end to exploitation or suppression; his ministry in word and deed enacted practical anticipations of this 14 Review for Religious salvation to come. His own drink from the cup of suffering in torment and execution and the seal of God's graciousness in the resurrection ground a hope in human history that has empow-ered discipleship ever since. Remembrance of Jesus through the power of the Spirit guides and informs the life of prophecy and ~ontemplation in the church. This vision of a wholistic con-templative, prophetic shape to reli-gious life in the future, glimpsed in the literature, is already a living, growing reality in some cases. It also stands in contrast to the overall shape of religious life in the present, which has become domesticated by too close an identification with the law, structure, and spirituality of the institutional church. In a particularly eloquent argument, Diarmuid O'Murchu, taking a clue from reli-gious life as it is lived in Eastern religions, contends that religious life in the west needs to reclaim its liminal identity, a move of genuine conversion en.tailing profound change in spirit and structure. Re!igious would then be known as persons and communities who are in touch with the sacred, passionately committed to just and loving relationships, fiercely resistant against exploitation of the earth and of persons, and willing to live countercultural lifestyles with and for the marginalized. They would stand in church and society a.s liminal, archetypal, prophetic persons, articulating and empowering the deepest love.13 To arrive at this goal, religious must confront many chal-lenges and questions. A key CMSM paper muses: People in general probably do not think of us as genuine prophets. What must we do, what price must we pay, if we wish to embrace a prophetic stance? How can we be prophetic without becoming triumphalistic? How can we be prophetic without losing a ministry .to the middle class which is the social origin of nearly all of us? How can we learn to read the signs of the times and discern more surely the thrust of prophecy? What steps must we take to arrive at solid social and cultural analysis? How can we relate our The contemplative attitude is thus not otherworldly but profoundly turned toward this world in celebration and resistance, knowing that the Creator is also the Redeemer. ~anuary-February 1994 15 Johnson * Between the Times traditional institutions to the prophetic role? How can we motivate ourselves, with God's grace, to accept a materi-ally poor standard of living? We have more questions than answers, but we believe that we are on the way to a new, more prophetic presence within the U.S. Church.~4 The Futures Project identifies "fidelity to purpose" and "response to absolute human need" as the two most basic ele-ments for the revitalization of religious life. As this brief survey of the literature shows, the search for the sacred in resistance to what afflicts the world is being fingered as the purpose that will shape the new form of this life. The move toward a contemplative-prophetic stance augurs well for the future insofar as it grapples with the religious heart of the matter in the context of the suf-fering of the contemporary world. Experience of God My own reflection on these matters brings me to a founda-tional area not frequently mentioned in the literature, namely, the idea of God that undergirds the evangelical life. The fasci-nation with the mystery of God is endemic to religious life every-where and at all times. The varieties of structures and self-understandings that have emerged in the course of history only serve to underscore this fact. As Sandra Schneiders observes, "Whatever unites all these people is more interior and spiritual than forms of life or types of behavior."15 The common thread that unites them all is a search for relationship with the sacred, leading to a certain kind of absorption with the religious dimen-sion of life. "Those who are called 'religious' in the technical sense of the word," writes John Lozano, "have decided to adopt a way of life whose intrinsic, underlying explanation is religious experience.''16 This way of life intends to give daily, concrete expression to the experience of God, to empower its further devel-opment, and to manifest its fruits publicly. Put another way by Ladislaus Orsy, the only reason for religious life is the experi-ence of God. This being so, it seems vitally important to inquire about the idea of God that is presupposed at any given moment, for this structures the experience of God that sustains the entire endeavor. As the primary symbol of the whole religious system, the idea of God is a lodestar. It represents what a community takes to be the 16 Review for Religious highest good, the profoundest truth, the most appealing beauty. Thus it is not a neutral concept, but functions powerfully to shape the personal and corporate identity of believers. A religion, for example, which would speak about a warlike God and extol the way he smashes his enemies to bits would promote aggressive group behavior. By contrast, speech about a beneficent and lov-ing God who forgives offenses would turn the faith community toward care for the neighbor and mutual forgiveness.'7 By definition, the One whom people call God is the recipient of absolute human trust, God being "that to which your heart clings and entrusts itself" in the memorable phrase of Martin Luther (OSA).~s Consequently, the idea of God implicitly guides all of a person's and community's principles, choices, system of values, enterprises, and relationships. The symbol of God func-tions. Neither abstract in content nor feeble in its effect, it sums up a people's sense of ultimate mystery, the proper order of the world, and the right orientation of human life and devotion. Along with many others, I sense that a seismic shift is occur-ring in the experience and idea of God in our day and culture. Fully aware that not all people who live at the same time are con-temporaries, I nevertheless think that a certain culturally condi-tioned cast of mind is emerging in our era that yields an idea of God markedly different from the classical model. VChat is emerg-ing is a notion that coherently supports and strengthens prophetic and contemplative consciousness. Thus it is not just the move from a juridical to a pastoral relation of the church to the world, nor the dissolving of the sacred-secular dualism, nor increased global and ecological awareness, nor growing consciousness of injustice, nor any of the other ecclesial and social factors that alone or together are causing the changes in religious life. Rather, at the deepest level what is transpiring, I think, is new experience of God. The Postmodern World The contemporary mind-set in the United States shaped by conditions of the late twentieth century is frequently described as postmodern. First coined in artistic, literary, and philosophical circles, this term is used in a bewildering variety of ways to describe the sentiment that humanity must go beyond the mod-ern. Like the wanderer in Kafka's parable who, when asked where January-February 1994 17 Johnson * Between the Times he is riding to, responds, "I don't know,., only away from here, away from here, only by doing so can I reach my destination,''19. postmodernity points beyond the present to what cannot yet be readily envisioned. Philosopher Stephen Toulmin refers to the world "that has not yet discovered how to define itself in terms of what it is, but only in terms of what it hasjust-now-ceased-to-be," namely, the modern world originating from the seventeenth-cen-tury Enlightenment.2° Modern!ty esteemed at least four dynamic forces: the myth of unending progress, the clear and distinct ideas of universal reason, the power of the self-contained individual directed by his soli-tary ego, and the ascendancy of human control over nature. By contrast, postmodernity is conscious of the end of progress, the limits of reason, the sad isolation of the unconnected individual, and the catastrophe that results when nature is disrespected. Not everything originating in the modern era is to be discarded. One would want to keep the emphasis on human dignity and human rights and their expressions in liberty and equality (fraternity in isolation is suspect). But postmodernity is awake to the egregious failures that the modern ethos has wrought. It wants to go Away- From-Here. Perhaps the most felicitous description comes from David Power, who observes that postmodernism is the sensibility that does not try to pretend that the twentieth century has not hap-pened. Sprung from the disruptive, out-of-control evils of this century, postmodern consciousness is aware of the chaotic, con-tingent, threatened character of existence and the fragility of the human project. Two distinct but related positions have developed within this general description. One, the option for deconstruction, seeks to undo the power and securities that produce such evils. In theory and art it pokes holes through the rationalizations of the victors, unveiling their pretensions to righteousness and order. While in its extreme form postmodern deconstruction leads to radical skep-ticism and nihilism, its bracing insights are powerfully instruc-tive as to what should not be. In tandem with this option, a second, more constructive model has emerged. Suspicious of inherited triumphal truths, it seeks out suppressed voices and sto-ries, risking new interpretations of established tradition "from the margins" in order to enable resistance to the forces of destruc-tion. Its aim, unlike nihilism, is a more just and humane universe. 18 Review for Religious It is this latter type of constructive postmodernism, found in intellectual theory, literature, and art as well as in grass-roots movements, that generates a certain kind of spirituality.21 Its char-acteristics are painted here in broad strokes. Postmodern spiri-tuality notes the ambiguous character of progress itself and takes its bearing not from the dream of untrammeled, irreversible progress fueled by a consumerist mentality, but from the suffering of those on the underside of history, keeping in view the gaps and failures of human advance. It seeks wisdom not in the clear and distinct ideas of what is claimed to be universal reason but is in reality the thought of privileged men; rather, it honors the plurality and ambiguity of human con-sciousness, sensitive to the differ-ence that difference makes according to one's social location in gender, race, and class. The com-pass of postmodern spirituality points not to rampant individual-ism and its violent outcroppings but to the importance of community The compass of postmodern spirituality points not to rampant individualism and its violent outcroppings but to the importance of community and tradition, prizing human solidarity and peace. and tradition, prizing human solidarity and peace. It finds life not in human supremacy over the earth but in affective kinship with the extended family of the cosmos. In a word, it prizes not isolation but essential connectedness; not body-mind dualism but the wholistic, embodied person; not patriarchy but inclusive fem-inism; not militarism but expenditure for the enhancement of life; not tribal nationalism but global justice. Our age is witnessing the shift to a postmodern cast of values, in theory if not always in practice. This constitutes a widespread, if not universal, cultural phenomenon in the United States, even among Christian believers. It may well signal the first phase of an axial breakthrough in human consciousness that will shape the next millennium. If so, that is of no little significance for the future of religious life in this country. For the postmodern sensi-bility in its constructive form has a strong affinity with the prophetic-contemplative stance increasingly envisioned as con- January-February 1994 19 Johnson ¯ Between the Times stitutive for the future of religious life. At the very core of that life is the experience of God. And so we come to the heart of the matter by asking how the postmodern matrix shapes the experi-ence and concept of the sacred. Postmodern Experience of God In our era the concept of God developed by rational En-lightenment theology in the context of modernity has become largely unbelievable. Whether drawn from revelation or philo-sophical inference, this by-now-traditional theism views God as the Supreme Being who created all things and who governs all things with inscrutable providence. Perfect in a way that stands in sharp contrast to the finitude of creatures, "he" (the theistic God is always referred to in male terms) is "infinite, self-existent, incor-poreal, eternal, immutable, impassible, simple, perfect, omni-scient, and omnipotent.''22 Although architect and ruler of the world, it is essential to God's deity that he be essentially unre-lated to this world and unaffected by what happens in it. This view therefore excels at stressing ,divine transcendence and its human counterpart of spirit, while divine immanence along with the importance of matter and the body tend to slip from view. This God of classical theism is modeled on the pattern of an earthly absolute monarch, a metaphor so prevalent that most often it is simply taken.for granted. As a king rules over his subjects, so God the Lord has dominion over his creatures, a view which, as Sallie McFague has shown, is intrinsically hierarchical, whether the divine reign be accomplished through dominance or benevo-lence. 23 In theory such theism adheres to the truth that the mys-tery of God is beyond all images and concepts. Yet history shows how in practice modernity tends to objectify God, reducing infi-nite mystery to an independently existing Supreme Being along-side other beings, a solitary, transcendent power who together with the world can be thought to form a larger whole. This is the idea of God that is no longer seriously imagin-able within a postmodern sensibility. Factors that contribute to its lack of cogency include the evils of this century, contemporary science and its view of the universe, liberation and feminist anal-ysis, the political disparagement of dictatorship, and the encounter among world religions. Any one of these alone would put a large question mark next to the modern symbol of the divine. Taken 20 Review for Religious together within the cultural shift to postmodern consciousness, they all but bury it. The result for people of faith is the radical loss of their famil-iar God image, along with the experience of divine presence that it mediated. Along with this also comes the loss of their sense of place in the order of the universe. As Janet Ruffing comments on the domino effect of loss of the tradi-tional God image in religious communi-ties, "All the ways we had construed our place in the sun and the meaningfulness of our commitment have been gradually eroding.''24 But this experience is not restricted to religious life; it is culture-wide and has attracted a host of com-mentators. For Martin Buber, the loss signals the eclipse of God. For Karl Rahner, it involves entry into the spiri-tuality of a bleaker season. For Constance Fitzgerald, it means the classic mystical experience of impasse and dark night. For Sandra Schneiders, this dark night is not only individual but a corporate purification. For Martin Marry, winter serves as metaphor for this season of the heart. For Michael Bucldey, it is entry into emptiness, silence, the cross in accord with the dynamic of apophatic mysticism,zs For me, this shift is poignantly summed up in the titles of the first and last books of my friend and colleague William Hill OP, now seriously ill. He broke into print with Knowing the Unknown God, an exploration of how the Thomistic category of analogy could lead the mind to God even in the contemporary world. God might be unknown, but we were possessed of some knowl-edge through the judgments we make. Now his recent essays have been collected under the rubric In Search of the Absent God. We are not in possession at all. Enmeshed in history and its suffering, we can but seek the hidden face of the living God.26 The absence of God experienced through the breakdown of traditional mediations of structure and theory does not mean, how-ever, that there is no experience of God at all. In a profound dialec-tic, what has been taken away is encountered in the ache of its loss. Divine absence itself becomes a mode of divine presence. The unknowing beckons to a deeper knowing. Th~ darkness mediates a brightness that the eyes cannot see. The wintry horizon hints at Enmeshed in history and its suffering, we can but seek the hidden face of the living God. .~anuary-February 1994 21 Johnson ¯ Between the Times new life buried beneath the snow. The cry from the depths signals an affirmation of Life deeper than pain, as did Jesus' cry from the cross. As Maura Clarke wrote from E1 Salvador, "In the very absence of God here, God has never been more present to me." 27 It all depends on the character of God. If God be trustworthy, then we hope that we are grounded and enveloped by a Living Presence even here, in the night of the senses and of the spirit. While there is no universal enactment of salvation, the sacred comes in the form of promise mediated through everyday, small fragments of healing, beauty, liberation, justice, and love. This does not remove the darkness, but it allows us to keep on walk-ing. The ice melts but will freeze again: in history there are only relative victories. Lament and celebration are both necessary. Here there are no easy assurances, no props. We know God through hope and, in the face of starkness, even hope against hope, nourished by remembrance and the circle of community. For many years now I have found the prophet of this experi-ence to be Dietrich Bonhoeffer. In his vision God is being edged out of the world and onto the cross, and that is the way, the only way, that God can be with us: "only a suffering God can help.''28 His struggle to believe culminates in the maxim "Before God and with God we live without God.'':9 This is an experience of God in which darkness is an event of disclosure, clearing the decks of a false conception of God and opening contact with the incom-prehensible holy mystery of God who goes beyond all images, all grasping, all ~elling. The manageable God of the modern age who was immediately available and could be counted upon to intervene for our benefit is no longer there. But a new experience of God is already breaking through that intensifies our compassion. Constance Fitzgerald has wisely observed that what is going on in and through this experience is "a progressive hermeneutic of~e nature of God.''3° A full theology of God has yet to be writ-ten in a postmodern context, but the typical spii'itual experience of this age is yielding an unmistakable interpretation.3~ If there be a God at all, then this is absolute holy mystery that can never be fathomed. Not literally a male person writ large, the sacred can be pointed to by any created good: male, female, animal, cosmic. This mystery does not dwell in isolation from the world but encompassesit as the Matrix of its being and becoming. God in the world and the world in God--panentheism describes the mutual relation. Thus related, the Holy One of Blessing is a God 22 Review.for Religious of pathos who participates in the suffering of the world in order to transform it from within. Divine power is the strength of love, rather than raw, monarchical omnipotence. Passionate for justice and peace and compassionate over pain, Holy Wisdom typically self-reveals in the fragmentary breakthroughs of well-being that come about through human partnership with divine purpose. Forever God acts to create a fresh, new future: liberation is her signature deed. A God like this calls for an ethic of critical com-passion. We are impelled so to utter the word of God that the world will be changed and renewed by it. Religious people of all stripes are now in the transitional posi-tion of trying to find words and symbols for this personal and collective experience of God. A common language has yet to come to light. Yet the very way the search is being conducted gives some indication of the outcome. An LCWR paper expresses the efforts of women religious in this regard: God is immanent in creation, in the midst of the web of life. As we bond with the oppressed and marginalized, we know God standing on the side of the poor and oppressed, seeing with the eyes of the poor, leading the oppressed by alleviating oppression. In this context, we see God angry, sad, suffering, marginalized; we see God incarnated in peo-ples of color, in women, in the homeless and battered, the victims of violence and oppression of all kinds. And then the inevitable: Religious find themselves in a "Dark Night." The painful and intense moments of disintegration, which carry the hope for what can break through, characterize our living in this in-between.32 To sum up, the idea of God emerging in postmodern spiritual experience is a contemporary hermeneutic of the God whose reign Jesus preached and embodied: the God of life. If the experience of God is the core of religious life, and if it is this God who is being perceived in contemporary religious experience, then here is a key tt)eological factor shaping the future of religious life in the United States. Conclusion The dialectic between divine absence and presence, in the last analysis, is an experience of the Spirit of God: radically tran- ~tanlmry-February 1994 23 Johnson ¯ Between the Times scendent, like the wind blowing where it will; and at the same time radically immanent, dwelling at the heart of the world to vivify and renew all things. Empowered by the Spirit in our age, people of faith who treasure the living memory of Jesus seek the hidden God of life (contemplation) and live out the passion of God for the world in need (prophecy). It is my sense that religious life is riding the crest of this wave in the postmodern culture of the United States. Internally its forms are breaking down; its interpretive support systems are col-lapsing; rifts with the institutional church exacerbate the dark-ness, especially among women; many members are in distress. Most radically of all, forms of religious life that traditionally medi-ated the experience of God now not only do not mediate this experience but positively block it. At the same time, consciousness of the suffering of poor and marginalized peoples grows; action on behalf of justice continues to attract; women reclaim their human dignity and the voice that goes with it; the vivifying power of God is experienced in and through the human power to chal-lenge, cherish, and set free; the divine mystery is named in new ways. Here and there religious persons and communities begin to articulate the prophetic-contemplative identity coherent with these experiences and act in mission accordingly. For religious life in the United States it is now Advent, the most honest season of all. In my judgment, the times do not call for return to the securities of a previous age. In fact, the very effort to keep alive forms of religious life that have for the most part run their historical course may well be counterproductive to the evangelical following of Jesus. Rather,what is needed is vig-ilant patience, profound prayer, and the ability to act boldly toward that future where new forms of evangelical life will develop. Notes ~ See summary by David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis, "Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992): 257-272. Hereafter cited as the Futures Project. Also in Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55. 2 1 would like to thank the following colleagues and friends for pro-viding me with materials for this essay: Mary Ann Donovan SC, Patricia Lucas CSJ, Thomas McKenna CM, Janet Ruffing SM, and Clara Santoro CSJ. My deep gratitude also goes to Mary Catherine Hilkert OP, John W. Padberg SJ, David Power OMI, and Sandra Schneiders IHM for read-ing and critiquing the manuscript in outline or finished form. 24 Review for Religious 3 Among the works that have made significant contributions are: Gerald Arbuclde, Out of Chaos: Refounding Religious Congregations (New York: Paulist, 1988). ~. Strategies for Growth in Religious Life (New York: Alba House, 1987). Marcello Azevedo, Vocation for Mission: The Challenge of Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist, 1988). Leonardo Boll, God's Witnesses in the Heart of tbe World (Chicago: Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality, 1981). Lawrence Cada et al., Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (New York: Seabury, 1979). Robert Daly et al., eds., Religious Life in the U.S. Church: The New Dialogue (New York: Paulist, 1984). Barbara Fiand, Living the Vision: Religious Vows in an Age of Change (New York: Crossroad, 1990). David A. Fleming, ed., Religious Life at the Crossroads (New York: Paulist, 1985). Mary Jo Leddy, Reweaving Religious Life: Beyond the Liberal Model (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third Publications, 1990). John Lozano, Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of Religious Life (Chicago: CCRS, 1983). ¯ Life as Parable: Reinterpreting the Religious Life (New York: Paulist, 1986)¯ Johannes Baptist Metz, Followers of Christ (New York: Paulist, 1978). Diarmuid O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1991). Sandra Schneiders, New Wineskins: Re-imagining Religious Life Today (New York: Paulist, 1986). Jean Marie Tillard, A Gospel Path: Religious Life (Brussels: Lumen Vitae, 1975)¯ The Way Supplement 65 (summer 1989): "Religious Life in Transition," pp. 1-152. Patricia Wittberg, Creating a Future for Religious Life: A Sociological Perspective (New York: Paulist, 1991). Evelyn Woodward, Poets, Prophets and Pragmatists: A New Challenge To Religious Life (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1987). 4 Works include: Mary Ann Donovan, Sisterhood as Power: The Past and Passion of, Ecclesial Women (New York: Crossroad, 1989). Nadine Foley, ed., Claiming Our Truth: Reflections on Identity by United States Women Religious (Washington, D.C.: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1988). January-February 1994 25 Johnson * Between the Times Marie Augusta Neal, Catholic Sisters in Transition: Front the 1960s to the 1980s (Wilmington, Delaware: Glazier, 1984). --. From Nuns to Sisters: An Expanding Vocation (Mystic, Connecticut: Twenty-Third Publications, 1990). Lora Ann Quifionez and Mary Daniel Turner, The Transformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). Ann Patrick Ware, ed., Midwives of the Futttre (Kansas City, Missouri: Leaven Press, 1985). s "Hope-Filled Deeds and Critical Thought: The Experience of American Male Religious and Their Need to Reflect on It," paper pre-pared for the Third Inter-American Conference on Religious Life and printed in David A. Fleming, ed., Religious Life at the Crossroads, pp. 20- 50; John W. O'Malley, "Priesthood, Ministry, and Religious Life: Historical and Historiographical Considerations," Theological Studies 49 (1988): 223-257. The dearth of works in this category is due, I think, to the fact that for most men authors until recently, male experience, given its normative status in church and society, is simply presumed. Thus gendered experience has not become a major category of interpre-tation as it has among women. 6 L. Cada et al., Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life, is the ground-breaking study that brought the notion of cycles to present-day awareness. See the excellent fine-tuning of this thesis b~; Philip Sheldrake, "Revising Historical Perspectives," The \¥ay Supplement 65 (summer 1989): pp. 66- 77. 7 Here I have found the following particularly helpful: Howard Gray, "Shapes for the Fut.ure," pp. 289-295, and Helen Flaherty, "Religious Life in the U.S.--A Guess at the Future," pp. 296-309, in R. Daly, Religious Life in the U.S.; Anne Clifford, "Women Missioned in a Technological Culture," pp. 37-55, in N. Foley, ed., Claiming Our Truth; the address by Robert Schreiter, "The Environment of Religious Life in 2010," to CMSM/LCWR Assembly in Louisville, Kentucky, August 1989; and the videotape "Religious Life: The Constant Is Change," IHM Sisters, Monroe, Michigan, which is an analysis of societal trends by Amata Miller, Margaret Brennan, and Sandra Schneiders. 8 See Anne Carr, Transfo~wting Grace: Christian Tradition and I, Vomen's Experience (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988). 9 Joint Meeting of the CMSM and the Lcv~rR, Louisville, Kentucky, August 1989. ,0 Karl Rahner, "The Spirituality of the Church of the Future," Theological Investigations, vol. 20, Concern for the Church (New York: Crossroad, 1981), p. 145. ~ One of the best contemporary treatises on contemplation remains William Johnston, The Inner Eye of Love (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1978); and on prophecy, Walter Bruggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1978). 26 Revieva for Religious 12 E. Schillebeeckx, Christ: The Experience of Jesus as Lord (New York: Seabury, 1980), p. 821. ,3 D. O'Murchu, Religious Life: A Prophetic Vision, passim. ,4 "Pilgrims and Prophets," paper drawn up by the Religious Life and Ministry Committee of the CMSM for the Fourth Inter-American Conference on Religious Life and printed in D. A. Fleming, ed., Religious Life at the Crossroads, pp. 51-64; quotation at p. 57. is S. Schneiders, New Wineskins, p. 32. 16 j. Lozano, Life as Parable, p. 9. 17 See Gordon Kaufman, The Theological Imagination: Constructing the Concept of God (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1981), pp. 187-189. Kaufmann argues here for the importance of the great symbol of Jesus Christ who, as the image of the invisible God, manifests a God who does not act in a violent way but rather creates a community of love and equality in a peaceable and free way. !8 Martin Luther, "Large Catechism," The Book of Concord (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1959), p. 365. 19 Franz Kafka, "My Destination," Parables and Paradoxes (Berlin: Schocken, 1975), p. 189. I am indebted for this reference to Catherine Keller, "Toward a Postpatriarchal Postmodernity," in David Griffin, ed., Spirituality and Society: Postmodern Visions (Albany: State University of New York, 1988), p. 65. 20 S. Toulmin, The Return to Cosmology: Postmodern Science and the Theology of Nature (Berkeley: University of California, 1982), p. 254. For further descriptions of postmodernity, see Frederic Burnham, ed., Postmodern Theology: Christian Faith in a Pluralist World (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1989); and Paul Lakeland, Theology and Critical Theory (Nashville: Abingdon, 1990), chap. 7, "Catholicism and Postmodernity." 21 The essays in the Griffin collection are enlightening, especially his own "Introduction: Postmodern Spirituality and Society," pp. I-31. 22 H. P. Owen, Concepts of Dei~y (New York: Herder and Herder, 1971), p. 1. 23 Sallie McFague, Models of God: Theology for an Ecological, Nuclear Age (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1987), pp. 63-69. 24 Janet Ruffing, "Seeing in the Dark: The Present Moment in Religious Life," address to regional meeting of LCWR, Sparkill, New York, September 1991, p. 10. This address, somewhat edited, appears in Review for Religious 51, no. 2 (March-April 1992): 236-248. 2s M. Buber, The Eclipse of God (New York: Harper and Row, 1952); K. Rahner, see note 10; C. Fitzgerald, "Impasse and Dark Night," in Tilden Edwards, ed., Living with Apocalypse: Spiritual Resources for Social Compassion (New York: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 93-116; S. Schneiders, see video-tape, note 7; M. Marry, A Cry of Absence: Reflections for the Winter of the Heart (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1983); Michael Bucldey, "Atheism and Contemplation," Theological Studies 40 (1979): 680-699. January-February 1994 27 Johnson ¯ Between the Times 26 William J. Hill, Knowing the Unknown God (New York: Philosophical Library, 1971), and In Search of the Absent God, Mary Catherine Hilkert, ed. (New York: Crossroad, 1992). 27 Quoted in Mary Catherine Hilkert, "The Experience of Impasse and the Roots of Wisdom," address to Dominican Leadership Conference, October 1991, p. 11. 28 D. Bonhoeffer, Letters and Papers from Prison (New York: Macmillan, 1953), letter of 16 July 1944, p. 220. 29 Ibid, p. 219. 30 C. Fitzgerald, "Impasse and Dark Night," p. 112. 31 For a profound analysis see Peter Hodgson, God in History: Shapes of Freedom (Abingdon: Nashville, 1989); and Wendy Farley, Tragic Vision and Divine Compassion: A Contemporary Theodicy (Louisville: Westminster, 1990). 32 "Reflections upon the Religious Life of U.S. Women Religious," paper prepared for the Fifth Inter-American Conference on Religious Life, 1985, and printed in N. Foley, ed., Claiming Our Tmtth," pp. 173-181; quotation at p. 177. Cana, Meaning Uncertain Wine flowed until there was no more at a wedding in Galilee; Mary, seeing this, turned to her son, one till then like any other, a brother, a carpenter who measured what he said and did. "They have no more wine," she said. He hesitated, questioned her, stirred up feelings between them. In the end Jesus acquiesced, six stone jars, water into wine, a fine line crossed, spirit revealed. Yet the uncertainty remains, was it not a mother's prompting that disrupted heaven's intent or is love so strong even God can be swayed by its openness? Neil C. Fitzgerald 28 Review for Religious JAN P. SCHOTTE The Consecrated Life in Church and World: Toward the Synod On 30 December 1991 the Holy Father, Pope John Paul II, called for the gathering in autumn 1994 of the Ninth Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops to treat the topic: "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." But what exactly is a synod of bishops? What are the various theological elements connected with this institu-tion? What are its pastoral aspects? Practically speaking, how does the synodal process work? And in what way does the treatment of specific topics bring benefit to the whole church? toward the synod A Synod of Bishops Etymologically speaking, the term "synod," derived from the elision of two Greek words, syn meaning "together" and hodos meaning "road" or "way," literally means "together on the way" or "sharing a journey." This idea immediately calls to mind the Vatican II image of the church as the people of God "on the move," always on pilgrimage, led and guided by the Holy Spirit through history to its ultimate fulfillment when the Lord shall Jan P. Schotte CICM serves as the general secretary of the Synod of Bishops. This presentation of his to the May 1993 Meeting of the International Union of Superiors General in Rome was orig-inally published in the UISG Bulletin, no. 92, 1993, pp. 68-78. Bishop Schotte may be addressed at Office of the General Secretary; Piazza Pio XII, 3; 00193 Rome; Italy. January-February 1994 29 Scbotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church come again (see Lumen gentium, §6). The term also calls to mind some biblical associations. For example, in John's Gospel Jesus calls himself the "Way" (see Jn 14:6), and St. Paul makes reference to Christianity as the "Way" (see Ac 22:4). The term's rich theological and biblical associations can be saidto culminate in the concept of the church as communion. As quoted in Cbristifideles laici, "communion speaks of a double, life-giving participation: the incorporation of Christians into the life of Christ, and the communication of that life of charity to the entire body of the faithful, in this world and in the next, union with Christ and in Christ, and union among Christians in the church." Therefore, "communion" should not be looked upon as something static, but an active and dynamic reality which is both a hallmark of the church and the divine force continually enliven-ing her. This mystery of the church's communion is reflected in an unlimited number of ways in the church's life, from its most sub-lime aspect in the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, to the var-ious encounters both personal and communal experienced by Christians everywhere. One instrument for celebrating the communal nature of the church on the local level is through archdiocesan and diocesan synods, which are becoming more frequent an occurrence. In convoking such a synod, a local bishop gathers around himself, as the source and foundation of communion or unity in his partic-ular church, various representatives of the church community-- lay, clerical, and religious--to pray and reflect in common and, using the eternal truths of the faith as set forth in the teachings of the church, to seek pastoral approaches and solutions to living the Christian life as a community and as individuals. The church's communal nature on the particular and univer-sal level also exists in the authority over the church which was established by Christ and subordinated to the task of preaching the gospel (see LG, §20 and §21). Therefore, where the synod of bishops uses the same word as that applied to celebrating the communal nature of the particular church, there is a basic theo-logical difference. The synod of bishops celebrates the mystery of church communion on the hierarchical level, that is, among the bishops. The Second Vatican Council describes this unity in the fol-lowing manner: "Just as, in accordance with the Lord's decree, 30 Review for Religious St. Peter and the rest of the apostles constitute a unique apos-tolic college, so in like fashion the Roman pontiff, Peter's suc-cessor, and the bishops, the successors of the apostles, are related with and united to one another'~ (LG, §22). This fundamental unity of the episcopate is the basis for the teaching on the collegiality of bishops (see LG, §22 and §23), which is like-wise an essential element in understanding the synod of bishops. The highest and fullest expression of this mystery of hierarchical communion is manifested and celebrated in an ecumenical council where the whole .episcopal college is convoked by the Holy Father. On various occasions the doc-uments of the Second Vatican Council refer to the episcopal gathering as a "synod" (see LG, §54; Christus Dominus, §36; etc.). But in this sense the word has the same meaning and theological significance as "council." Where the "synod of bishops" might resemble a "minicoun-cil," there is a fundamental qualitative difference between the two. For example, a synod convenes only a representative por-tion of the world episcopate, and unlike an ecumenical council, the synod of bishops is convened by the Holy Father for consulta-tive and not deliberative purposes. Nevertheless, despite the dif-ferences, "the synod of bishops," according to the Holy Father, "expresses collegiality in a highly ifitense way." The institution of the synod over twen.ty-seven years ago was inspired by the collaboration among the bishops at the Second Vatican Council and its beneficial effects for the whole church. Pope Paul VI on 15 September 1965 in the motu proprio Apostolica sollicitudo, establishing the synod of bishops, used these words: "With the aim of providing for a continuance after the council of the great abundance of benefits that we have been so happy to see flow to the Christian people during the time of the council as a result of our close collaboration with the bishops [and] because The institution of the synod over twenty-seven years ago was inspired by the collaboration among the bishops at the Second Vatican Council and its beneficial effects for the whole church. January-February 1994 31 Schotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church of our esteem and regard for all the Catholic bishops and with the aim of providing them with abundant means for greater and more effective participation in our concern for the universal church, on our own initiative and by our apostolic authority we hereby erect and establish here in Rome a permanent council of bishops for the universal church, to be directly and immediately subject to our power." Much more than a structure inspired by the Second Vatican Council, the synod of bishops has proven itself to be an apt instru-ment for the implementation of conciliar doctrine and the appli-cation of its pastoral directives. At the same time it has also been the forum for the interpretation and further development of the teachings and spirit of the council. An Instrument of Continuous Pastoral Renewal Though each session is called to respond to unique pastoral situations, no synod is ever an isolated event, but has a relation to other synodal gatherings. Because each synod calls together a representative portion of the episcopate with its head the pope, each synod has a relation to the whole church. At the same time, because the synod is a unique response of the episcopal college to the mandate or mission entrusted to it by the Savior, each synod has a relation to the fundamental salvific mission of the church through history as well. A brief look at the various synods which have taken place to date is evidence enough of the importance of these episcopal gatherings for the church and their value in bring-ing about the reforms intended by the council. Pope Paul VI stated the goals for the First Ordinary General Assembly, held in the fall of 1967: "the preservation and the strengthening of the Catholic faith, its integrity, its force, its development, its doctrinal and historical coherence." One result of this meeting was the eventual establishment of the International Commission of Theologians to assist the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith and to broaden a discussion on approaches to theological research. The same assembly provided the stimu-lus for the 1983 publication of the revised Code of Canon Law and also made recommendations to the Holy Father on various pastoral questions. Two years later, in 1969, the First Extraordinary General Assembly was convoked to seek and examine ways and means of 32 Review for Religious putting into practice the collegiality of bishops with the pope. This meeting opened the door to greater collegiality in the pas-toral care of the universal church and in episcopal conferences and the relations between individual bishops. In 1971 the Second Ordinary General Assembly treated two subjects: "The Ministerial Priesthood" and "Justice in the World." In the former, treatment was centered on the theological nature of the priesthood with the intention of addressing certain diffi-culties experienced by priests in the course of their ministry. On the subject of justice, the bishops stated the need to relate the gospel to existing worldwide and local circumstances. "Evangelization in the Modern World" occupied the work of the Third Ordinary General Assembly held in 1974. At this assem-bly the bishops reemphasized the essential missionary character of the church and the duty of each member to bear wimess to Christ in the world. The bishops' recommendations and proposals sub-mitted to the pope were used in the formulation of the apostolic exhortation Evangelii nuntiandi. At the Fourth Ordinary General Assembly, which took place three years later, in 1977, the discussion of the bishops centered on "Catechesis in Our Times," with special attention given to the teaching of the faith to children and young people. Shortly after the synod, Pope John Paul II issued the apostolic exhortation Catecbesi tradendae, which utilized a great many of the bishops' insights and proposals. The First Special Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, popularly known as "The Dutch Synod," was convoked in 1980 to examine more thoroughly the teachings of the Second Vatican Council on the mystery of church communion and its practical implications on the universal and local level, and the figure of the bishop and his ministry. In this way the synod sought at that time to address its designated topic, "The Pastoral Situation in Holland." The Fifth Ordinary General Assembly in 1980 reaffirmed the church's teaching on the family, in particular defending marriage and the contents of Humanae vitae. From the discussion and the proposals of the assembly, the pope issued the apostolic exhorta-tion Familiaris consortio. In 1983 the Sixth Ordinary General Assembly, held during a specially called Holy Year commemorating the 1950th year of Redemption, appropriately discussed the need of applying the fruits of Christ's passion, death, and resurrection to the individ- January-February 1994 33 Schotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church These different synodal gatherings which have taken place in the course of the synod's history appear more and more clearly as a continuous process of pastoral renewal. ual and society. The bishops' work during the synod served as the basis for the apostolic exhortation Reconciliatio et paenitentia, which for the first time was designated a "postsynodal" docu-ment. The Second Extraordinary General Assembly in 1985 com-memorated the "Twentieth Anniversary of the Conclusion of the Second Vatican Council" and assessed the state of church renewal according to conciliar teachings. The recently published Catechism of the Catholic Church was the result of a proposal by the bishops at this episcopal assembly. "The Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and in the World" was the topic chosen for the Seventh Ordinary General Assembly in 1987. Through a con-sideration of vocation and mission in the context of church commu-nion, the bishops sought to empha-size the distinctive nature of the lay faithful in the church's life and her work of evangelization in the world. The fifty-four proposals of this assembly were used in the formulation of the postsynodal apostolic exhortation Christifideles laici. In 1990 the Eighth Ordinary General Assembly again took up the subject of priesthood. However, where in 1971 the bishops focused on the theological nature of priesthood and its implica-tions, this assembly's attention was more pastoral in tone, cen-tering. upon priestly formation and the "person" of the priest himself-both religious and diocesan--before and after ordination. The forty-one proposals from this assembly were used by the Holy Father in the formulation of the postsynodal apostolic exhor-tation, Pastores dabo vobis. The Special Assembly for Europe was called in the follow-ing year, 1991, to help discern the kairos of the situation on the European continent created by the historic fall of communism and to consider the role of the church in the various programs of renewal and construction. 34 Review for Religious In preparation are two other special assemblies. In his recent apostolic visitation to Africa last February, the Holy Father announced, in conjunction with the release of the assembly's Instrumenturn laboris, that this special assembly will take place in Rome in 1994, just after Easter. In March the Lineamenta of the special assembly for Lebanon was published, initiating the con-sultation phase of the preparation for that synod. These different synodal gatherings which have taken place in the course of the synod's history appear more and more clearly as a continuous process of pastoral renewal, giving opportunity through prayer and reflection to deepen a sense of the church's mission and to stimulate all the people of God to participate in this mission, each according to his or her state. Perhaps our under-standing of the synod of bishops can be further enhanced by fol-lowing the synod process which has taken place thus far in the preparation for the 1994 synod on "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World." The 1994 Synodal Process The principles governing the synod of bishops and the synodal process are set forth in three basic documents: the motu proprio Apostolica sollicitudo of Pope Paul VI establishing the synod; Ordo synodi episcoporum celebrandae, or the Constitutions of the Synod of Bishops; and the Code of Canon Law, canons 342 to 348 inclusive. For the purpose of our presentation I will limit myself to those aspects of the process which immediately affect the synod topic, its documentation, and the various preparatory phases leading to the synodal gathering. Before the conclusion of the Eighth Ordinary General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, the synod fathers were asked to elect from their number, according to synod regulations, the required fifteen-member council to assist the general secretary in the follow-up work of the assembly and to work on the prepa-ration of the Ninth Ordinary General Assembly. At the same time the synod fathers were invited to make suggestions on a topic to be treated at the next general assembly. There is a certain value to this initial exchange on the topic during the general assembly because the responses are spontaneous and unprepared. In making their suggestions the bishops were asked to keep in mind the following general criteria in selecting a synodal topic: (1) January-February 1994 35 Sctsotte ¯ Tlse Consecrated Life in rise Church that the topic have a universal character, that is, a reference and application to the whole church; (2) that the topic have a con-temporary character and a certain urgency, that is, have the capa-bility of exciting new energies and movement in the church towards growth; (3) that the topic have a pastoral focus and appli-cation as well as a firm doctrinal basis; and (4) that treatment of the topic be feasible, in other words, that it have the potential actually to be accomplished. In retrospect it is interesting to note that even in the initial consultation during the synod itself a con-vergence of ideas was evident regarding the treatment of some aspect of the consecrated life. Shortly after the conclusion of the general assembly, the gen-eral secretariat continued the consultation process by preparing a letter with the above criteria and sending it to the patriarchates, bishops' conferences, heads of offices of the Roman Curia, and the Union of Superiors General--the normal participants in the synod process. This communication requested the submission of three topics in order of preference. The suggestions coming from this consultation were then analyzed and discussed by the members of council of the general secretariat at one of its regularly sched-uled meetings, and a series of formulations of the theme in order of preference was submitted to the Holy Father. Until now the Holy Father has always selected the council's first choice, con-vinced that the consultation process provides a true indication of the desire of the universal church to treat a given subject. Such was the case for the topic of the 1994 synod. The general consultation process revealed a remarkable con-vergence of ideas indicating a preference for the topic of the con-secrated life. Initially some persons made a rather shallow interpretation to explain the choice, insisting that since the laity and the priesthood were treated in the two previous synodal assemblies, it was only logical that the consecrated life should receive attention. The truth of the matter is that in the course of the consultation a great number of reasons were given for calling a synod to treat the topic of the consecrated life. Many argued in the following manner. 1) With the importance of the consecrated life in the church today, there is necessity to reaffirm its true nature in various new social contexts and in the world at large. 2) The flourishing of vocations in some parts of the world 36 Review for Religious and the crisis of vocations in others requires a thorough exami-nation of the consecrated life. 3) After the Second Vatican Council, various efforts have been made to rewrite constitutions, to propose anew the charism of the founder, and so forth, and consecrated life in general has been subject to an overall renewal. Therefore, the time seems right to engage in an evaluative process. 4) The question of the relationship of those in consecrated life to bishops deserves renewed consideration as well as the sub-ject of the greater participation of women and men religious in the overall pastoral plan of a diocese, particularly in light of the unique charism proper to each. Where the document Mutuae relationes has been fruitful and productive on the whole, certain episcopal con-ferences have given indications that there remain some areas still needing attention. 5) The new forms of consecrated life appearing in many parts of the church require evaluation and proper guidance. The nature of religious institutes, secular institutes, and the societies of apos-tolic life needs to be clarified and their role in the church more clearly defined. Many of the new forms of unions and confrater-nities are appearing with the false notion that they are part of the consecrated life according to the evangelical counsels. 6) Some developments and interpretations have caused the common life for religious to be questioned. In some countries there are situations which deserve attention. 7) The prophetic character of consecrated life in certain cir-cumstances needs to be more clearly defined. How is a person in the consecrated life to respond in faithfulness to his or her voca-tion in the face of secularization, the crisis in culture, and the decline in moral values? 8) In some countries religious congregations have abandoned the work proper to them in favor of individual attempts at apos-tolic work. Such a situation raises the concern of religious con-gregations as well as bishops, requiring them to seek the proper pastoral approach to such situations. The above sampling of reasons underlying the choice of topic for the 1994 synod sufficiently indicates its universal appeal, pas-toral relevance, timely character, and feasibility. At the same time, it can be seen that they have a general inter-est for the entire church. In virtue of the church's unity, every part and every member will be affected by the exchange and out- January-Fetrruary 1994 37 Schotte * The Consecrated Life in the Church come. In this sense the synod will not simply treat a topic, but make suggestions to the Holy Father regarding the future. What does the consecrated life have in store for the future? How are those in consecrated life to live out their consecration in the apos-tolic mission of the church? What courageous and bold steps are required to meet the unique challenges made on consecrated life by the present state of affairs in the church and society? Before these questions can be faced by the bishops in syn-odal assembly, the church at large will have time to reflect on them and other aspects of the topic and be invited to make their observations known through the proper channels so that those required to make official responses on the topic to the general secretariat will have current information with which to work. The 1994 Lineamenta The synod process can be divided into four great moments: the Lineamenta, the Instrumentum laboris, the synodal assembly, and the postsynodal document. We logically pause to devote some time to explaining the Lineamenta document, the present stage of preparation for the Ninth Ordinary General Assembly. After the Holy Father's choice of topic, the council of the general secretariat at a regularly scheduled meeting held a roundtable discussion with the secretary of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life and with representatives from the various groups associated with con-secrated life, that is, women and men religious, members of sec-ular institutes, and members of the international organizations of consecrated life in the church, namely, the Union of Superiors General for Men and the International Union of Women Superiors as well as the International Congress of Secular Institutes. The observations resulting from this meeting were fur-ther discussed and developed in subsequent council meetings, and with the help of theologians an outline and texts of the Lineamenta were drafted and studied, before a definitive text was submitted to the Holy Father. As its Latin name suggests, the Lineamenta is an "outline" or general presentation of the synod topic followed by a series of questions intended to direct the prayer and reflection of the whole church on the subject. The information resulting from this stage will provide the raw material for the synod's Instrumentum laboris 3 8 Review for Religious or "working document," intended to present a composite picture of the present situation and prevailing attitudes in the church on consecrated life and its role in the church and in the world. The Lineamenta document is divided into three major parts, each treating a specific aspect of the topic: (1) "The Nature and Identity of the Consecrated Life"; (2) "The Consecrated Life in the church and in the World of Today"; and (3) "The Role of Consecrated Life." The document's initial pages immediately address the prob-lem of terminology. Strictly speaking, the term "consecrated life" in Canon Law refers to religious con-gregations and secular institutes only. What, then, is to be done with soci-eties of apostolic life? Since canon 731, § 1, states that the societies of apostolic life are "comparable to the institutes of consecrated life," it was agreed that the synod topic would also include their treatment. Therefore, when the term is used in the Lineamenta, it is meant to be all-inclusive. After a brief introduction, Part I begins with an explanation of the essential characteristics of the conse-crated life, namely, vocation, conse-cration, mission, the evangelical counsels, the common life, eschato-logical witness, its essential values, and the commitment to the spiritual life. The section then proceeds to speak of the charismatic nature of the consecrated life, as wit-nessed in its variety of charisms and multiplicity of forms. In this regard attention is given to the charism of the founder or foundress, the various forms of consecrated life, institutes of con-templative life, brothers, secular institutes, societies of a.postolic life, and the new forms of consecrated life emerging today. The second part of the document describes the present situ-ation of the consecrated life in the church and in today's world, seeking on this basis to suggest various subtopics which merit consideration, for example, the direction to be taken by the con-secrated life with the approach of the third millennium, the fruits of renewal, new values and aspects of the consecrated life, nega- The synod process can be divided into four great moments: the Lineamenta, the Instrumentum laboris, the synodal assembly, and the postsynodal document. Jam~ary-February 1994 39 Schotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church tive aspects (even these must be addressed), the necessity of a clear witness in responding to the challenges of modern society, and finally the situation in various countries and cultures (Africa and Asia come especially to mind). This section ends with a call to those in consecrated life to continue the renewal begun after the Second Vatican Council. The third section speaks in practical terms of the role of the consecrated life in the church and society, beginning with a pre-sentation on the ecclesial dimensions of the consecrated life, its relation to the church hierarchy, its coordinating structures in fostering communion, its place on the level of the local church, and its communion with the lay faithful. With this in mind, var-ious topics related to the role of the consecrated life within the universal church community are treated, including the new evan-gelization, authentic apostolic creativity, acceptance of the call to evangelization, remaking the fabric of society, promoting the unity of all the baptized, and the dialogue with followers of other religions. The concluding portion of Part III turns its attention to the church's mission in the world, emphasizing features associ-ated with the consecrated life, for example, its specific witness to God's love through the works of mercy; its attention to young people and their needs; its presence in schools, hospitals, and social programs; its dedication to work on behalf of the poor; its role--past and present--in the transmission and formation of cul-ture; and its part in the church's work of safeguarding the values of nature and conscience in today's world. The closing pages of the Lineamenta then offe~ a brief look at Mary as the model and mother of the consecrated life and a reflec-tion on the consecrated life in terms of a renewed presence of Christ in the world of today. The presentation concludes with a section containing the document's endnotes, followed by a table of contents. Incorporated in the Lineamenta text and appearing at the con-clusion of each section is a series of twenty-five consecutively numbered questions which are meant to focus the prayer and dis-cussion of the universal church on various aspects of the synod topic. At the same time, these questions and numbers are to pro-vide an orderly structure for the responses from various individ-uals and church bodies which will be formulated and submitted in the lively exchange on all levels of the church community dur-ing the consultation period. 40 Review for Religious Official responses are expected to be filed with the general secretariat by those normally involved in the consultation pro-cess, that is, patriarchates, episcopal conferences, offices of the Roman Curia, and the Union of Superiors General for Men. Given the synod topic, the International Union of Women Superiors and the International Congress for Secular Institutes are also to submit responses. All responsible for such responses are to work on the best possible manner of facilitating the reading of the document by individuals and groups associated with them, and of seeking information from them so that the responses may be truly complete and reflect the richness of the exchange on the various levels of the local church community. With the publication of the Lineamenta on 20 November 1992, a significant and important stage in the preparation for this synodal assembly was initiated. I would even go so far as to say a most critical phase, because the richness and depth of the Instrumentum laboris, the reference point and source of discus-sion during the actual synodal assembly, depends on the widespread participation of the whole church and a thorough-ness in answering the series of questions posed in the Lineamenta. For this reason, it is incumbent upon each individual in the church, no matter what his or her state or circumstance, to con-tribute through the accustomed channels in this presynodal prepa-ration period, thereby providing the necessary information which will be eventually used in the official responses to be sent to the general secretariat. From my experience over the years I am becoming more aware and convinced of the very real contribution and impact of synodal assemblies in the life of the church. These beneficial results come about not simply from a month-long meeting, but from the whole synodal process, from the consultation regard-ing the theme, the prayer and reflection period, the actual cele-bration of the synod, and its follow-up. Not only do the reflection and prayer which are a part of the Lineamenta phase assist in setting the agenda in the Instrumentum laboris or "working paper," but the process itself taps and exer-cises the dynamism of church communion in the listening, shar-ing, and stirring up of new energies on various levels of the church community. And after the synodal assembly, where there is a con-centrated effort at intensely living the communion which has come beforehand, the effects make themselves felt years later. January-February 1994 41 Scbotte ¯ The Consecrated Life in the Church The Lineamenta itself makes reference to this fact when it states that the occasion of this synod will provide the opportunity for "all members of the church, particularly the institutes of con-secrated life, to reconsider the subject of their own renewal in light of the challenges and the opportunities of the present moment," based on the church's appeal in these days "for a renewed endeavor towards evangelical life, towards a profound spirituality, and towards a generous presence in the new evange-lization" (§33). This time of synodal preparation, then, is an occa-sion for hope, a hope that this profound examination of the status of renewal and the prospects for future growth of the consecrated life in all its aspects will be a moment of grace and revitalization, and bring great benefits to all those in consecrated life and to the church as a whole. Message from a Coreopsis Lanceolata (Daisies Do Tell) Some of us are past our prime, And one of us has lost a few petals; Another--will never see the sun. Yet we all rejoice That we reflect our Maker And celebrate a loving God Who signs each one of us With his own life's Blood. Joann Stuever, ASC postulant 42 Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Charism, Charisms, and Faddism d sexagenarian religious superior who keeps abreast of the times asked me if I had read the recent document on reli-gious life produced by the council of the General Secretariat of the Synod of Bishops. I said yes, adding hesitantly: "But it is not very interesting." Without hesitation she agreed completely. The Point of Departure: The Lineamenta Surely the Lineamenta, the preliminary agenda on "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World" prepared in view of the forthcoming Ninth General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops, is not a particularly charismatic piece of writing. After all, it is not from the pen of a theologian like Rahner, or a biblicist like Elsa Tamez, or a feminist like Ruether, or a third-world figure like Amalorpavadass, or a cardinal like Martini. On the contrary, it is an official document with its strengths and weaknesses, treating the topic "in a complete organic manner, indicating the topic's precise content and its necessary limits''1 and touching upon "only the essential points of doctrine" (§4).2 As such, therefore, it would read somewhat like a protocol without the charismatic cadence or resonance of your fa~,orite author. However, considering that the document is the product of the pastoral office of the church, we would not be wrong if we rec-ognized in it the charismatic teaching included by Paul in his lists A. Paul Dominic SJ can be addressed at Satyodayam; S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. .~anuary-Felrruary 1994 43 Dominic * Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism of charisms. And so what it says about religious life as a charism that includes many a charism can serve for our mental nourish-ment and impart to us a spiritual gift (Rm 1:11). It can set us thinking about religious life as a matter of charismatic experi-ence, that is, an experience of living a fundamental charism through as many different charisms as there are societies of"con-secrated" or "apostolic" life. Any serious reflection on this mat-ter will prove to be relevant, for the prevailing confusion in religious life concerns partly the lack of clarity about charism and charisms.3 Religious Life as Charism Religious life, like all life, is best observed in its relationships. On the one hand, it is a part of the church; and, on the other, it is itself the church and so serving, like the church, the rest of the world (§3, §25, and §44). In the first perspective, religious life is one of the many charisms of the church; in the second, it is, as we said earlier, a fundamental charism giving rise to a wide variety of expressions of itself. The religious state of life is a "particular gift in the life of the church" (Lumen gentium, §43). As such it can be properly appre-ciated only when we see it in place, beside many other similar gifts enjoyed by the church. That is why the Lineamenta begins the consideration of charisms (§14-§17) recalling the mystery of the church as the Mystical Body of Christ endowed with many gifts, quoting Paul: "There are many different gifts, but it is always the same Spirit; there are many different ways of serving, but it is always the same Lord. There are many different forms of activ-ity, but in everybody it is the same God who is at work in all" (1 Co 12:4-6). By the parallelism of the verses, the different ways of service or activity are all to be understood as gifts in a variety of forms. Paul goes on to list such gifts in the immediate context (i Co 12:8-10, 28) and also in other letters (Rm 12:6-8 and Ep 4:11). A look at all the lists can give us an idea of the wide range of gifts enjoyed by the growing church. Though it would be anachronistic to look for the mention of religious life among the listed gifts of the Spirit bestowed on the church, note that celibacy is proposed as a special gift (1 Co 7:7). In the course of time the church came to recognize many more gifts in its ongoing life, gifts like asceticism, monasticism, vir- 44 Review for Religious ginity, choice of poverty, and social virtues, to speak only of those that have an obvious reference to religious life.4 As the church grew in self-awareness, it came to discover many elements that we now associate with religious life as its specific gifts; and so today we can speak about "the charism of the consecrated life" (§14), that is to say, the consecrated life itself viewed as a gift or charism. However various and heterogeneous the different charisms may be in the manner of their working, they are one and homo-geneous in intent and purpose. They are all meant to build up the Body of Christ. The Body of Christ is built up when the mem-bers are well nourished and so live to the full, reaching unity in faith and knowledge of the Son of God and forming the perfect Person fully mature with the fullness of Christ himself (Ep 4:13). This fullness of Christ is the same as the life permeated by the Spirit ever filling us or even overwhelming us with all her gifts and charisms. Such a life energized by the working of the Spirit is spiritual and holy. M1 the charisms of the Spirit nourish the life of the church, making it ever more holy with the life of Christ himself. Situating religious life thus in the sphere of the church's life of holiness and recognizing in it a universal reality in the church's makeup, the Lineamenta concludes: "With this in mind one speaks of 'the charism of the consecrated life'" (§14). Here is surely an echo of the approach to religious life taken by Lumen gentium, §39-§47. Such an affirmation of religious life, however, is slightly marred by the way the Lineamenta, following of course Vatican expresses it. After describing the way of holiness of religious life marked by vows that establish a special bond to God, Lumen gen-tium concludes: "Thus, although the religious state., does not belong" to the hierarchical structure of the church, nevertheless it belongs inseparably to her life and holiness" (see L §1; see also §14 and §36). One can discover a patronizing voice here, rightly or wrongly. Anyway, what a difference it would make if the state-ment were to read towards the end: "nevertheless, like the hier-archy, the religious state too belongs inseparably to her life and holiness." Does not Vatican II after all state in the chapter on universal holiness, "In the various types and duties of life, one and the same holiness is cultivated by all who are moved by the Spirit of God" (LG §41), and further go on to describe the way of holiness of the different classes of persons and finally end with a clear reference to the life of the religious (LG §41 and §42)? January-February 1994 45 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism There is a good reason why we can parallel religious life and hierarchy in this way. Of all the charisms enumerated by Paul-- who, incidentally, developed the terminology of charisms--the pastoral office of the hierarchy is the only one that concerns a state of life. This idea gets all the greater force because the pas-toral letters signal a development in the idea of charism which continued to prevail in postapostolic times. Paul's reminder to Timothy, "You have in you a spiritual gift which was given to you when the prophets spoke and the body of elders laid their hands on you" (i Tm 4:14), a reminder repeated again in 2 Timothy 1:6, certainly refers to Timothy's charism as one of grace of state or office. If we add to this way of looking at the hierarchical charism the reference to the charism of married life in 1 Corinthians 7:7, where there is a simultaneous reference to the charism of celibacy too, we can discern a line of thinking in which the various particular vocations in Christian life can be considered charisms establishing people in different states of life. So we can now speak in particular of the charism of religious life as the grace of the religious state of life; contributing to the holiness of the church in a particular way. In this context it is enlightening and inspiring to recall an old nomenclature of the religious state of life, namely, the state of perfection, proclaiming visibly the prophetic office of Christ wit-nessing to the kingdo~n here and hereafter. What is basic about states of perfection is the perfection to be acquired by way of the evangelical counsels in a community set-up. The function of any particular way of religious life, contemplative or active, lies. in this: that religious, by their very striving after holiness, call upon all Christians to do the same in their own way. So remarking, Bernard H~iring quotes papal authority in support: "The church would not fully respond to the mind of her Divine Bridegroom, men would not fix their eyes on her as on the 'the signal unto the nations'., if they did not find in her men who reflected the splendor of the gospel more through the example of their life than by means of words.''s All this is not so old-fashioned. A few years ago America carried an article describing religious as those who, unlike the laity, make religion their very career with its own particular structures that not only favor and promote it but also witness to it.6 The charism of religious is to be identified with striving for perfection, as the Lineamenta often repeats (§3, §5, §8, and §16). 46 Review for Religious To speak of the state of perfection is perhaps not a post-Vatican practice. However, in avoiding the falsity of perception possible in the expression, one need not altogether abandon its right use. Rather, we need to rediscover in the correct meaning of the phrase some essentials of religious life. Here is one: "It is not so much we who profess as others (the church, the community) who recognize that we. at least have received an explicit call and have come to a state of commitment to pursue it relentlessly, wholeheartedly; and radically.''7 But even in so reflecting on religious life as a state of perfec-tion, one should beware of a dan-ger. If one were to emphasize the personal pursuit of perfection that religious undertake, one is liable to overemphasize all their many undertakings on the path to perfection, thereby forgetting that any and every charism is a pure and simple gift of God. The story of Peter is apt here, as Bonhoeffer tells it. "Three times Peter heard himself proclaim that Christ is his Lord and God--at the beginning, at the end, and at Caesarea Philippi. Each time it is the same grace of Christ calling Peter to follow, and revealing itself to him in his confession." To reiterate the idea with Bonhoeffer: "This grace was certainly not self-bestowed. It was the grace of Christ himself.''8 Quoting all this, J.M.R. Tillard concludes; "Now, this costly grace., is for Simon Peter and for every religious the charism which makes existence as such a sign of the gospel. This charism comes from the Lord's Spirit . It is truly a gift made by the risen Lord, through his Holy Spirit, to his people. The Lord passes by. his grace seizes certain men and women. Poor sinners, they are nonetheless of those who will say to . . . the world: 'We have found what we were looking for! Come and see!' This is their charism.''9 One may, then, delve into the experience of religious life and discover in its depths not so much a for but a because of. No one enters religious life primarily for some thing or some work, but rather because of the One Who calls. "The for will come later, nec-essarily, but in the radiance and as the evangelical fruit of the No one enters religious life primarily for some thing or some work, but rather because of the One who calls. ~tanuar2/-Febrttary 1994 47 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism because of," as Tillard says.~° Can anything be clearer than this? Yet in the culture shock that religious were exposed to after Vatican Council II, not a few sought their identity in their works and tasks, in their of religious life. But the more they did so, the more elusive they found it. For their real existence as religious was concentrated in the call of Christ to which they had once com-mitted themselves because of the altogether new experience of being seized by the Lord's power. Their existence, therefore, became, or ought to have become, a new existence, a charismatic existence, a charism. Such a vision of religious life as the charism in itself appears distinctly, though in a less charismatic expression, in the Lineamenta when it speaks of the profession of the gospel as the supreme rule for all institutes, whatever their particular ministries may be (§8; see also Perfectae caritatis, §2). The Charisms of Religious Life Once religious life is understood in terms of one unique exis-tential charism underlying all forms of it, one may be able to appreciate the more familiar experience of the particular charisms that at once characterize and distinguish the various institutes. It is in this way that the Lineamenta would seem to interpret the charismatic nature of religious life as taught in the conciliar and postconciliar documents (§ 14). Logically and theologically, the consideration of the charism that constitutes religious life leads to that of the many charisms of religious life. It is the one charism of religious life that begets many a charism in it. Are not the latter "like branches sprouting out wondrously and abundantly from a tree growing in the field of the Lord"? (LG §43, quoted in L §16). Historically, however, what attracted the attention of people was the variety of charisms and not the one charism beneath and beyond all charisms. So, tracing the beginning of religious life from the very infancy of the church, Perfectae caritatis could point out: "Under the influence of the Holy Spirit, many., pursued a solitary life, or founded religious families . And so it happened by divine plan that a wonderful variety of religious communities grew up" (§ 1, partly quoted in L § 16). The mention of solitary life and religious families obviously refers to the twin charisms of original religious life, namely, 48 Review for Religious eremiticism and cenobitism (§9 and §19c). Cenobitism itself in the course of history developed two other charisms, namely, divine contemplation and human service. These in turn became spe-cialized in their ways of focusing on God and on people. In what-ever century religious live out their days, they adopt or develop distinct varieties of direct service of God and humanity, in imita-tion of Christ. Through them, therefore, Christ comes to be shown "contemplating on the mountain, announcing God's king-dom to the multitude, healing the sick and the maimed, turning sinners to wholesome fruit, blessing children, doing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father" (LG §46, quoted in L §15). Often enough, charisms are considered, or even identified with, graces meant for the common good. Such a consideration is incomplete because it misses something important, namely, the source of the power of service. Charisms are particular graces imparted to us by which we bear or image or reflect or even become Christ in ourselves in a particular limited way, and so are able to render appropriate service in a specific context in a par-ticular part of the world in the manner of Christ himself. So they highlight in us "a specific aspect of the mystery of Christ" (§ 17). However, the gospel, or for that matter Christ himself, if under-stood with proper nuance, is not apart from the church. So the Lineamenta does well in describing charisms as bearing upon a specific aspect, not only of the mystery of Christ, but also of the church's life, and thus manifesting in the makeup of the Mystical Body the multiform grace of Christ (§15). One should not miss here how charisms are at once incarnational and ecclesial (§46). Charisms and Service Once it is grasped that charisms have to do primarily with a fundamental religious way of being, one cannot go wrong in insist-ing that charisms are out-and-out oriented towards service, "des-tined for service of the kingdom" (§3); for surely charisms have an inalienable reference, not only to the way of being, but also to the way of doing. The Lineamenta spells out the nexus between charism and service forcefully thus: "Each charism . . . brings with it a particular manner of faithfully and intensely living the evangelical counsels. In addition, it implies a particular and con-crete style of spiritual life, a determined form of apostolate, a .~anuary-February 1994 49 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism specific experience of community life, and a particular involvement in the world" (816 [emphasis added]; see also $8). What, then, are the specific paths of service in the building of the earthly city (§44)? Not forgetting the contribution of the contemplatives to society through their divine service of worship (§2)--the first permanent foundation of women in the United States was Carmelites~l--the Lineamenta illustrates the service of active charisms thus: "Today the consecrated life is present in our society through the multiplicity of apostolic services rendered to others, each according to its diverse charisms, in one magnificent expression of the charity of Christ on behalf of the integral for-mation of persons; in the education of children and young people, in the care of the sick, the suffering, the elderly, and those in want; and in aid to persons with special needs and those marginal-ized by society" (§44a). What do all such services intend except "to make operative the gospel of the beatitudes and the works of mercy" (§44a)? One particular element of service rendered by charisms con-cerns life of communion within the church. Different forms of religious life characterized by their different charisms do not con-stitute exclusive churches within the church, but, forming part of the one church, ought to feel themselves to be the church and so identify themselves with her (~3 and ~35; see also Perfectae car-itatis, §2c). The charisms of the different religious families, with their charismatic and yet ecclesial-minded founders, belong as much to the whole church as to the religious themselves (~16, §26e, and §46). For not only are they meant for the growth of the chhrch, but they also have their origin, regulation, guarantee, and approval in and from the church (§6, §15, and §16). Therefore, far from being closed in upon themselves, religious offer a rich fare for communion, reflecting ideal church commu-nion (§9). There is every reason, then, to identify the religious living together by the term community. Incidentally, the hierarchy as such can only contribute, in terms of sociology, to the culture of societas with role differentiation; but the religious as such plunge themselves into the heart of society with their charisms of ser-vice (§3, ~42, and §44) and break through segmentations in soci-ety and initiate the culture of communitas in our world.~2 In bringing about this new culture of communion in the world church, the religious, as "experts in communion" (§35), have nec- 50 Review for Relig~otts essarily to act locally in the particular church, but with their hearts spanning universally in the global church (§27a). The exercise of religious charisms "assists everyone--clergy and faithful--to open themselves to the universal and missionary dimension of the church, and., makes the particular churches an image of the uni-versal church" (§39). For a con-crete example of communion resulting from the enduring charisms, the Lineamenta points out the flourishing of lay third orders, lay associations, and lay-volunteer groups "whose mem-bers are bound under different titles to the spirituality and apos-tolic work of various institutes" (}41). Where the charisms do not serve the cause of church com-munion, they are likely to become mere means of some service or religious themselves. other without the underlying spirit. The Lineamenta warns of the danger of reducing the pres-ence of institutes to parochial ser-vice "without encouraging and welcoming the richness of the spirituality and their proper charismatic service" (~40). More plainly, in the church Body each part can do only the service it is meant for. As charisms are vivifying and beautifying graces of the differ-ent members of the Body of the church (§46), they complement one another; and so they cannot healthily coexist without mutual encounter and influence. Perhaps, in the pre-Vatican "ghetto" church, religious congregations developed their own ghettos, pos-sibly without even knowing it. But the time has come, especially in the era of ecumenism, for % better understanding of the sense of communion among foundational charisms" (§27b). It is high time, therefore, for religious to realize how a particularly har-monious communion among themselves, sharing one another's charism, "can and should contribute to express better the full-ness and richness of Christ" (§46), not only in his Body the church, but also in his extended body, the world in need of union. The charisms of the different religious families, with their charismatic and yet ecclesial-minded founders, belong as much to the whole church as to the Jan~ry-Febrz~ry 1994 51 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism As charisms serve the cause of communion in the church, so do they contribute to the unity of the separate congregations them-selves. It is unthinkable that a religious family could maintain its unity of life amid all its committed involvement in the world if it failed to cling to its essential charism for nourishment (§32b). Each particular charism, bringing with it a particular manner of intense eyangelical life, makes the presence of the one Lord pres-ent in space and time (§46) and thus "enriches the legacy of life, history, and spirituality characterizing each family identity, shared in common through the spirit of the founder or foundress" (§16). Keeping Charisms Alive The dynamism of religious life in its variety depends on the vitality of its true charisms. Once charisms turn false, they lose their vitality and spell the ruin of institutes. Present-day insti-tutes can continue their existence faithfully only if they recog-nize, recover, retain, and renew their particular charisms in their past originality and present timeliness (~ 17). What, then, can we say about the renewal of charisms? "In keeping with their proper charism" (§40) and similar phrases recur in the Lineamenta, as in the Code of Canon Law, emphasizing that the charisms are to be preserved with fidelity and continued without alteration, avoiding all subtle deviation from the original spirit (§16). This supposes in religious a healthy appreciation and pride in the early traditions of their congrega-tion, as advocated by Perfectae caritatis. Given the evangelical inspiration of all charisms, one can say more, drawing a compar-ison between keeping to the purity of the gospel and maintaining the primitive charism. As Paul insisted on an anathema for those who dare preach a different gospel (Ga 1:8-9), religious founders and foundresses could do likewise, enjoining their followers to abide by the spirit of their constitutions without any dilution or dissimulation on their part.13 In this spirit, while expressing appre-ciation of the general progress in the awareness of the separate charisms in the different congregations in the postconciliar era, the Lineamenta adds affirmatively: "This consciousness ought to find expression in a spiritual commitment and a working pres-ence which effectively enlivens and makes operative for the good of the church the spirit of the founder orfoundress and the legacy of each institute" (§3 lc). 52 Review for Religious Two modern experiences with regard to charisms are note-worthy. One, the preferential choice for the poor, which has been "a constant feature of charisms in the apostolic life, often inspired by the words and actions of the Lord" (§44c; see also §27d), is becoming more and more a serious concern for religious life, leading communities to share the very life of the poor and the marginalized with all their risks, trials, and problems. Second, reminiscent of the early successes of many a congregation, there is the geographical spread of extant charisms in the younger churches of the third world and in the newly liberated Eastern European countries (§27c), giving rise to new cultural expres-sions of them (§32c). The above-mentioned experiences are two fine examples of how charisms rise to the occasion and serve their purpose today, provided they are ever deepened and constantly developed (Mutuae relationes, §1 i; L ~16) according to the signs of the times (Perfectae caritatis, §2; L §17). The sign today is the oncoming of the third millennium, throwing up opportunities and challenges (§33) and giving rise to the sprouting of new charisms and new forms of evangelical life (§24 and §27c). One aspect of this deepening and developing of surviving charisms lies in the direction of their "being called upon today-- inspired by the spirit of the founder or foundress--to serve as the basis for making new commitments and responses in Christian charity to the new and old expressions of poverty in our world" (§29g) and, more generally, to the changed atmosphere of the world "because of the social and cultural happenings which have rapidly come about in modern society" (§25). This is reminiscent of the call of Mutuae relationes to be innovative enough for bold enter-prising initiatives (§12; L §42). Which persons are inspired enough and thus inspiring enough to make new initiatives and refound their congregations, warding off the subtle temptation to be wise in their own eyes? Only fer-vent people (§29e). Only they can update discerningly for today the expressions of their original charism. But in the absence of such people "a certain leveling in behavior and in the tenor of the spiritual and communal life has brought a certain loss of prac-tical identity in charism and works" (§28b)--as surely happened in India, for instance, when some religious working with the masses wanted no public association whatever with their congre-gation. So the apparently clever and outspoken members certainly ~tammry-February 1994 53 Dominic ¯ Charism, Cbarisms, and Faddism need to be cautioned, against tendential postures, theoretical and practical, regarding charisms that go against their.genuineness (§3 lc). A case in point was that of a Jesuit who spoke of the need to rewrite the Ignatian rules for thinking with the church, to the applause of the gathering of course, with scant awareness of their foundation in the mystical union of the church and Christ that inspired Ignatius's Eharacteristic service of the church. While there have been new, positive, and worthy initiatives-- the switch of women religious in the United States from the ser-vice of the clergy to frontier ministries should be hailed as one such measure though grudged by not a few men even in the highly progressive United States of Americal4--there have also been negative, unworthy, and false initiatives--which brings me to the discussion of faddism. Faddism Faddism, the cultivation of fads, has to do with "a rapid, sud-den, and ephemeral collective adoption of novel behavior which affects only superficial or trivial areas of life.''s It was certainly the fad of hasty paradigm shifting when some persons clamored for implementing changes in religious life at a faster pace than peo-ple could cope with. Even when people were willing to change, it was not without the grief of losing the familiar past or the fear of the unknown future. So whoever rushed their fellow religious into the world of Vatican II without at the same time providing them time to grapple with their fear or to grieve over or even rage about their apparent loss were carried away more by an itch for change (2 Tm 4:3) than by the breath of the Spirit, for whom there are times for everything. It was also a fad whenever an opinion gained ground that this or that particular individual was the resource person for renewal. To venture an example, it would seem that a certain fad of what may be called spiritual consumerism surrounded Anthony de Mello of Sadbana fame, for numbers of people kept looking to him alone for renewal, almost as if he were the director of world-wide renewal. In any case, whenever one individual looms too large in some endeavor, the result tends to be superficial, whereas all renewal worth the name happens deep within people, where the creative Spirit works in the innermost recesses of hearts. Another similax: fad, which coflld be called hybridization, was 54 Review for Religious the adoption of a celebrated model as the sole means of renewal, whether or not it squared with the blueprint of one's own origi-nal charism. If the one-month retreat according to the Spiritual Exercises appeared to be such a fad some twenty years ago, today in certain circles external dialogue--whether with native tradi-tions or modern situations--would seem to hold sway more than inner dialogue within one's own charism. Among all those who were "zealous" about reforms in reli-gious life, precious few resorted to a real praxis. Not only did individuals and small groups indulge in the fad of stylized ideo-logical talk.~6 Even entire provinces, if not whole congregations, could be all talk, adopting popular phrases about the poor, for example, rather than making sincere options for them. How pro-ductive can all this exercise be except for inviting occasional out-right condemnation. A bold village woman responded to a group of young religious whose actions were not as forthcoming as their words, "These are not the kind of shepherds who will save the sheep; they swallow the sheep." What is absent in feverish talk, namely, action, can itself become a fad and go beyond all proportion. The slogan (not the idea itself) "formation for mission in mission" suits such a fad, giving the go-by to minimum privacy and seclusion for necessary growth in maturity and personalization. Showmanship and one-up- manship feed this fad, causing each one's action to be largely unproductive. These things are the very opposite of prophetic action. They may have the imaginativeness of the prophets of old, but not their soundness of inspiration. The craze of using anything and everythin

Issue 34.4 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building: 539 North Grand Boulevard: St. Lot, is, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right @ 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A; Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor July 1975 Volume 34 Number 4 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humbuldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Women Priests and the Episcopal Church Leonel L. Mitchell Leonel L. Mitchell, whose most. recent publication is: Liturgical Change: How Much Do We Need? (Crossroad Books, 1975), is an Episcopal priest and Assistant Professor, Department of Theology; University of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, IN 46556. It is the intention of this paper to treat the topic of the ordination of women quite narrowly. It will not deal with the general question of the biblical, historical, and theological considerations involved in the ordination of women to the priesthood, but will attempt the more modest task of reporting the con-temporary debate as it exists in the Episcopal Church. This debate has two related but distinct foci: (1) the desirability of amending the canon law of the Episcopal Church so as to permit the ordination of women to the priesthood, and (2) the "ordination" last year of 11 women to the priesthood by three bishops without diocesan jurisdiction in violation of the presently existing canons. There are many in the Episcopal Church who strongly favor the or-dination of women, but condemn the action th~it was taken in Philadelphia on July 29, 1974. ". The 1973 Canterbury Statement of the Anglican-Roman Catholic Inter-naiional Commission ( A R CI C ) entitled "Ministry and Ordination" detailed in 16 headings a common statement of Anglica.n and Roman Catholic understand-ing of the meaning of "ordination in the apostolic succession." A few quotations from this statement should make clear what ministry it is to which women seek ordination in the Episcopal Church, and why this debate is of con-cern to Roman Catholics: Despite the fact that in the New Testament minisiers are never called 'priests' (hiereis), Christians came to see the priestly role of Christ reflected in these ministers and used priestly terms in describing them . Not only do [Christian ministers] share through baptism in the priesthood of the people of God, but they are--particularly in presiding at 51~. / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 the Eucharist--representative of the whole Church in the fulfillment of its priestly voca-tion of self-offering to God as a living sacrifice (Rom 12:1) Nevertheless their ministry is not an extension of the common Christian priesthood but belongs to another realm of the gifts of the Spirit. (Par. 13) Ordination denotes entry into this apostolic and God-given ministry, which serves and signifies the unity of the local churches in themselves and with one another. Every in-dividual act of ordination is therefore an expression of the continuing apostolicity and catholicity of the whole Church. (Par. 14) What is involved, then, in the Anglican discussion is not whether women are full members of the Body of Christ and share in the priesthood of the Church, nor is the question one of their suitability to serve as Christian ministers. Women can and do serve in non-sacerdotal ministries in the Episcopal Church. The question is solely whether women can (not should) be ordained to the ministerial priesthood and serve as presidents of the Eucharistic assembly. I do not believe that arguments based on the inexpediency of ordaining women deserve serious consideration. It will always be inexpedient to do something we do not wish to see done. If women can be priests, then what but masculine prejudice prevents them from being so ordained? The question then turns on the hinge of "Are women proper subjects for the sacrament of priestly ordination?" Anglicans do not usually formulate the question in this way, but it is what they mean. Unlike the Roman Catholic Church, the Episcopal Church permits the or-dination of women to the diaconate. In 1862 the Bishop of London revived the order of deaconess in the Church of England by ordaining a woman by "im-position of hands." In 1885 the first such ordination was performed in the United States by the Bishop of Alabama, and in 1889 the American Episcopal Church regulated what it called the "setting apart" of deaconesses by ap-propriate canons. By setting up separate regulations for deacons and deaconesses, however, the canons raised the question of whether deaconesses were deacons, or ministers of some other sort. They did not wear stoles, nor assist in ministering Communion. In remote mission areas without a priest, deaconesses often led prayer ser~iices, officiated at Matins and Evensong, and conducted baptisms and funerals, but in ordinary parishes they served as sacristans, parish visitors, and directors of Christian education. They were, in fact, considered by many priests to be, as it were, "secular nuns" who could do useful things around the church. The fact that the diaconate itself was not well understood did not help to clarify the role of the deaconess. The apostolicity of the order of deacon has been continuously asserted by the Anglican Church, but in fact, deacons who are not fledgling priests have been almost totally unknown since the 16th cen-tury. The.revival of the "perpetual diaconate" for men in the period following World War II has produced a revival of interest in the diaconal ministry, and a beginning of the study of the diaconate as a ministry in its own right, not as a rung on the ladder of ecclesiastical preferment. Women Priests and the Episcopal Church In the Episcopal Church the question of the status of deaconesses was forcefully raised by the late Bishop James A. Pike, who (whatever his failings) was never afraid of a good fight. In 1965 he declared on his own authority as Bishop of California that deaconesses were women deacons, and proceeded to act on that assumption by recognizing Deaconess Phyllis Edwards of his diocese as a deacon. In a ceremony at Grace Cathedral, San Francisco~ he in-vested her with the deacon's stole and presented her with the New Testament from which she read the eucharistic gospel. She also assisted in the ministra-tion of communion in the manner usual for Anglican deacons, by ad-ministering the chalice. The lawyer-bishop was careful to explain that the ser-vice was not an ordination, since, in his view, Deaconess Edwards had already been ordained a deacon when she was "set apart" as a deaconess. Since most Episcopalians had never given any thought to the subject of the ordination of deacons of either sex, they were horrified. The bishops reacted (as Anglican bishops frequently do) by appointing a study commission to report on "The Proper Place of Women in the Ministry of the Church." At about the same time in England a similar report, entitled "Women in Holy Orders," was presented to the Archbishops of Canterbury and York. In 1968 the Lambeth Conference, the decennial meeting of Anglican bishops from all over the world, accepted the principle that deaconesses were "within the diaconate" and referred the question of the ordination of women to the priesthood to the various national churches or provinces, for further study. In 1969 the General Convention of the Episcopal Church, meeting at the University of Notre Dame, amended its canons to permit women for the first time to be licensed as lay readers and to administer the chalice. The 1970 Convention formally endorsed the position that deaconesses were women deacons and amended the canons to that effect. From 1970 on, therefore, men and women have been ordaindd to the diaconate in the Episcopal Church under the same set of regulations, by the same rite, and clearly to the same office. There was, of course, one important difference. Male deacons were either candidates for the priesthood, or they intended to combine service as a "perpetual" deacon with another occupation from which they expected to derive their income. The women, on the other hand, were go-ing into full-time professional ministry, like most of the men with whom they had graduated from seminary. Few of them saw their vocation as being to the "perpetual" diaconate, but the possibility of ordination to the priesthood was denied them. In 1971 the Bishop of Hong Kong and Macao, acting after consultation with his diocese and the Bishops of South East Asia, ordained two women to the priesthood. The previous bishop had pe~'formed a similar ordination in 1944, during World War II, but the Archbishop of Canterbury had formally refused to recognize the ordination, and the woman ordained, ki Tim Oi, renounced her orders for the peace of the ChurCh. This time the Anglican Con-sultative Council (which is a secretariat rather than a decision-making synod) interpreted the resolutions of Lambeth 1968 to permit him to act: ~i14 / Review for Religious, l~olume 34, 1975/4 This Council advises the Bishop of Hong Kong, acting with the approval of his Synod, and any other bishop of the Anglican Communion acting.with the approval of his Province, that, if he decides to ordain women to the priesthood, his action will be accept-able to this Council. (Resolution 28, Anglican Consultative Council, Limuru, Kenya, 23 February-5 March 1971) The resolution carried the Council 24-22, and it was on the strength of this ap-proval that Bishop Baker p~:oceeded with the ordinations. In that same year the American bishops were asked to endorse the princi-ple of the ordination of women to the priesthood and the episcopate, and to prepare legislation for that purpose. The resolution was presented by the Bishops' Committee on Ministry. The House of Bishops (in customary fashion) appointed a study committee of seven bishops. This was the second study commission of the American bishops on the ministry of women in l0 years. The complaint of women that the question has been sufficiently studied would seem to be justified. The report was presented to the bishops in 1972. A straw vote was then taken on the question of the ordination of women to the priesthood. This was a simple expi'ession of personal opinion, not a legislative vote. The bishops voted 74-61 in favor of admitting women to the priesthood. This is the approval of the bishops so often mentioned in the debate since. The report itself exhibits an internal schizophrenia, including two different versions of a section on "Scripture, Tradition, and Images," one favoring the ordination of women, the other opposing it. It was distributed, not only to the bishops but to all priests and other interested persons, in mimeographed form, and was later printed in the 1973 Convention Journal. It begins with the assertion that the Church admits both men and women to the diaconate, and cites New Testament precedents (Romans 16:i, Acts 9:36, I Tim 3:8-13) and the opinion of C. H. Dodd: We may fairly suppose that the order of deacons which emerged in the second century. had its origin in Paul's own time; and that it included women as well as men. (Dodd, C. H., The Epistle of Paul to the Romans, p. 235) The report describes the contemporary understanding of the diaconate as ':murky and confused" and calls for a fresh statement of the meaning of the diaconal ministry. It is interesting that the acceptance of women as deacons is not considered controversial by the bishops, but is the assumed starting ground for further discussion. Certainly no such consensus could have been obtained in 1965. Turning from the diaconate to the priesthood, the report describes the or-dained priest as "called of God and authorized by the body" to act for both the Lord and his Church "in ways far beyond our understanding." It asserts: His priesthood is not derived from the Church nor has anyone a right to claim priesthood; the priest is called to receive a gift in ordination, which comes from the Father. But his call and the gift are alike recognized and ratified by the Church; he acts for them in exer-cising the gift. Thus the authority and accountability conferred in ordination have a dou-ble reference. No man exercises priesthood in a vacuum. Women Priests and the Episcopal Church / 515 When it considers the possibility of the ordination of women to the episcopate, the report confronts the question directly: In the case of episcopacy, as in that of priesthood, the suggestion of a duality of repre-sentative roles raised in some of our minds the question as to the significance of male-hess as a necessary attribute or characteristic of the Bishop. Perhaps even more than the priest, the episcopal Father-in-God imagery is that of a male figure and none of us doubts the extraordinary tensions and problems which would confront the Church were women to be chosen to be bishops. But the question remains, in some of our minds, whether it can be said that female-ness is a diriment impediment to their consecration as bishops. I believe that this puts the question in proper terms. It is not a matter of whether one thinks a specific woman would or would not make a good priest. That is a pastoral question to be answered by those specifically charged with approving candidates for ordination. Some women, like some men, would make unbelievably bad priests. If this is true of some of the 11 women or-dained in Philadelphia in July 1974, it is demonstrably true of many of the already ordained male priests in the Episcopal Church, and, 1 assume, in other churches as well. The report then proceedes to two sections upon which the committee was divided. In the first it presents arguments again~st the ordination of women, and in the second it presents arguments for it. Most of the debate on the sub-ject in the Episcopal Church has been simple and straightforward. Opponents of the ordination of women have said that there is no support for it in Scripture or Tradition, that the Church has never ordained women, and to do so now would be stark novelty, and therefore both uncatholic and heretical, its ad-vocates have countered that there is nothing in Scriiature to forbid it, that there is no a priori theological reason for not doing it, and that the mere fact that it has never been done is no argument at all. They point out that to argue simply on the basis of contrary practice is to commit the Church to the view that change is either impossible or wrong--a doctrine which all admit has been widely believed, but which deserves to be relegated to oblivion--and which is demonstrably untrue in such cases as the Church's attitude toward slavery. A great deal of the literature which supports the ordination of women has argued with undeniable truthfulness that much of the opposition of male priests to the ordination of women stems from the men's insecurity in their own sexual and ministerial roles. Itis undoubtedly also true that at least some of the women seeking ordinat.ion have comparable problems, but neither point seems worthy of serious consideration, and the bishops' report does not raise it. It is, of course, theoretically possible to argue that although all of the people actually opposing the ordination of women are doing so from unworthy motives, the position itself is true. It is likewise possible to argue that although none of the candidates actually presenting themselves should be ordained, it is proper to ordain women. More concretely, it is hardly reasonable of the Church for it to set up a system in which all but the most stout-hearted will become discouraged long before they are actually accepted as candidates for ordination, and then complain about the lack of humility and modesty of the 511~ / Review for Religious, l/olurne 34, 1975/4 survivors. The principle of abusus non tollit usum needs to be applied with great rigidity here. The section of the bishops' report which opposes the ordination of women to the priesthood may be taken as representative of the best argumentation on this side in the Episcopal Church. The "prominent and honored place" of women in the ministry of the New Testament and the Early Church is freely admitted. Phoebe is recognized as a deacon, Dorcas as a "disciple," the daughters of Philip as prophets, and others as teachers and evangelists. It further affirms that women have an honored place in the ministry today, but that place is not in the presbyterate. It permits, even urges, the ordination of women to the diaconate, and condemns the failure of the contemporary Church, including that of many priests and bishops, to understand the meaning of the diaconate as ari order separate from, but not subordinate to the presbyterate. It makes a sharp distinction between the priesthood which is shared by all Christians, men and women alike, as full members of the community, and ad-mission to the cultic ministry: To belong to the cultic ministry is no part of the perfection of Christian membership in Christ. That the Church has acted as if it were, and as if lay-people were second class Christians is only too true. It is only too true that lay women have been excluded from the decision making processes of the Church; this is one of the causes of their present anger and frustration. But we cannot right this wrong by committing another. The actual arguments raised against the ordination of women to the priesthood appear to be two, one symbolic and one historical. The symbolic argument is summed up in the conclusion: The ordained Christian priest must act officially in the person of Christ, and male-ness is therefore required for a priest to act in this way. A woman priest, it is claimed "must lack the full symbolic meaning of Chris-tian priesthood, and to that extent must be defective." Masculinity and male-ness are seen as symbolizing the initiating creative and recreative act of God toward mankind, an act transcending nature, and constitutive of the Church. The historical argument is that, although women exercised a multitude of ministries in the early Church, there were no women presbyters or bishops. On the evidence, to admit women as Bish'ops and Priests is to overturn the practice of the New Testament Church, and the Catholic Church ever since. It considers that some evidence of an unmistakeable intervention of the Holy Spirit "such as we find in Acts" would be necessary for so momentous a change, and rejects the idea that the fact that some women genuinely believe themselves called to the priesthood is evidence of such an intervention. It has always been the duty of the Church to tell a man whether or not he has a true voca-tion to the priesthood, and the Church has this task today. If the Church says no to these aspirants, it would seem proper to assume that their question has been answered by the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Women Priests and the Episcopal Church This section of the report concludes: This momentous step must not be taken by a small branch of a particular Catholic Church on its own initiative, without reference to the remainder of catholic Christendom, and, 1 am sure, against the convictions and sentiments of a majority of its members. The appeal to the consensus fidelium of the Catholic Church of the ages strikes strong responsive chords in most Anglican hearts, and their concern for the effect of any unilateral action on the Anglican-Roman Catholic or the Anglican-Orthodox dialogue is genuine. The section of the report defending the ordination of women compares it with the adoption of the Canon of Holy Scripture or the development of the threefold ministry as "legitimate developments of what was implicit in the revelation of Christ from the beginning." It makes extensive use of the article "Biblical Anthropology and the Par-ticipation of Women in the Ministry of the Church" by Professor Andr6 Dumas of the Protestant Faculty of Theology in Paris, which was published in 1964 in Concerning the Ordination of Women. a report of the World Council of Churches. This article contrasts the Jahwist account of the creation and fall in Genesis 2:4-3;24 with the Priestly account in Genesis 1, in which man and woman are both made in the image of God and given joint authority over crea-tion. According to Dumas, the only theologically significant reason for the ex-clusion of women from the Old Testament priesthood was the belief that woman's true vocation was to be a mother in order to perpetuate Israel until the coming of the Messiah. This, he says, Christianity specifically rejected as anti-Messianic. There is, he points out, nothing in the New Testament about motherhood as a sacred vocation, since that vocation has been fulfilled by the motherhood of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The report admits the power of the male imagery applied to priests, but comments: Its power is derived from deep springs in the human spirit and from important forces in our culture and his.tory. Insofar as it reflects truths about masculinity and femininity it can be a significant instrument in our grappling with reality. Its limitations lie, of course, in the fact that there is no analogy in Deity to such imagery, no way t6 identify in Deity the anguish and the beauty inescapably part of the man-woman differentiation in humanity. The overwhelming tradition of the Church against the ordination of women is freely admitted, but declared to be irrelevant. The profound changes in the roles of men and women in society, it feels, ~eans that any decision in-volves change: The problem for Christians is not how to get back to what was, but to bear witness in the midst of what is; and even the choice to stay where we are, if we make it, will be the choice of a new position which has got to be mai:le in the presence of real people, not ghostly memories. The report notes that thep0sition of other Churches is also changing, and the effect of permitting the ordination of women on the ecumenical scene may 51~! / Review for Religious, I/olume 34, 1975/4 as easily be positive as negative. It also points out that popular opinion, and the spirit of "women's lib" are not valid considerations, but the Church must deal solely with the question "Is God now calling women to Priesthood?" If the answer is yes, the Church must respond, whatever the cost, and if it is no, the Church must also take the consequences of that decision. The final section of the report raises a number of questions, on the answers to which the committee was presumably divided: Is it not true that Christ's priesthood is too comprehensive to be contained by the sym-bolism of one sex, that in fact its variety and d.epth call for full sacramental feminine ex-pression in order to represent a God who sustains both masculinity and femininity? If this is true, might we not be on the threshold of a new dimension and awareness of the un-searchable riches of Christ? Far from confusing sexual roles or affirming "unwise" values, might not the ordination of women assure the enrichment of our understanding of humanity in Christ by guaranteeing the presence of both its components visibly present in the offering of the Oblation which is Christ's and ours? Like many discussions of synods of bishops, the report ends with no recommendations, except to "meet the issue head on." The bishops concluded their discussion with the straw vote already mentioned. When the Anglican Consultative Council met in Dublin in July 1973, they reaffirmed their position that individual national or regional churches might proceed to ordain women, if they so decided according to their synodical processes. The vote in favor was 50-3, compared with the 24-22 vote in 1971. The next significant step in the process occurred when the General Conven-tion of the Episcopal Church met in Louisville in September-October 1973. Legislation. to change the canons to permit the ordination of women to the priesthood and the episcopate was introduced into the House of Deputies, and was there debated at length. The final vote fell short of the needed majority. Since this vote has been the subject of much subsequent controversy, it re-quires further elaboration. The General Convention is the legislative body of the Episcopal Church. It consists of bishops and clerical and lay deputies. The deputies are elected by diocesan synods, four priests and four lay persons from each diocese, regardless of size. On substantive matters the deputies vote by dioceses and orders and a majority is required in both orders for passage. The vote on the ordination of women was clericalmYes 50, No 43, Divided 20; Lay--Yes 49, No 37, Divided 26. The divided delegations were split 2-2 and therefore unable to vote either for or against the resolution. The result was that although the proposal had a plurality of votes, it did not receive the absolute majority re-quired. This situation is not a "fluke." The rule, like that requiring the ratification of amendments to the U.S. Constitution by three-quarters of the States, was written into the Constitution of the Episcopal Church to make it difficult to change basic items of Church structure, and to make it impossible for a bare majority to do so. The question of whether the majority of clergy and laity of the Episcopal Church actually favor the ordination of women to the priesthood is difficult to answer. Certainly many have made it abundantly clear that they will "leave Women Priests and the Episcopal Church / 519 the Church" if such action is taken. On the other hand, at least one bishop has promised to resign if the ordination of women is not permitted, and some women have indicated that they will withdraw from the Church if the ordina-tion of women is finally defeated. Since the resolution did not pass the House of Deputies in Louisville, it was neither debated nor voted upon by the bishops. "A Statement of Conviction concerning Ordination of Women'~ signed by 60 bishops was inserted into the minutes, on a point of personal privilege by the Bishop of Indianapolis. This was intended to encourage the women deacons, whose genuine disappointment in the failure of the Convention to authorize their ordination to the priesthood was recognized by all. I share the opinion of many of those present at the Louisville Convention that a number of those who voted against the ordination of women did so in the firm belief that the Church was not prepared for this step at that time. Their opposition was not absolute, but conditioned by the need to prepare the "folks back home" for such a radical change in practice. As the Anglican Con-sultative Council had phrased it in 1971: Anglicans have genuine difficulty in entertaining the idea that there might be women priests, and, lacking experience, they cannot forsee the consequences if any were to be or-dained. In the days following the defeat of the resolution by the Deputies, rumors spread through the Convention that some bishops intended to go ahead without authority and ordain one or more women. The House of Bishops, wishing to squelch these rumors, passed a resolution of collegiality and loyalty, pointing out that the Deputies had rejected the principle of the ordina-tion of women, and that the Presiding Bishop was appointing a "competent committee" to study the matter in depth. The resolution affirmed the adherence of the Bishops "to the principles of collegiality and mutual loyalty, as well as respect for due constitutional and canonical process." It was clearly the failure of four bishops to abide by this decision which caused the House of Bishops to react as it did to the July ordination in Philadelphia. They looked for a full discussion and decision in 1976 at the next General Convention. But the situation was not to remain static till then. On July 10, 1974, four bishops, all retired or otherwise without jurisdiction, met in Philadelphia, at the urging of a group of lay and clerical leaders, to con-sider the possibility of proceeding to ordain women to the priesthood. Bishop Charles Hall, retired of New Hampshire, withdrew after this first meeting. On July 20, the Rt. Rev. Lyman Ogilby, Bishop of Pennsylvania, in whose diocese the service was actually held, refused both his consent and his approval to the ordination. On July 25 the Most Rev. John Allin, the new Presiding Bishop, telegraphed the eleven women and three bishops, asking them to reconsider their decision. At this same time Bishop Ogilby notified his diocese that clergy who par-ticipated in the proposed ordination would be "conducting themselves in viola- 520 / Review for Religious, P'olume 34, 1975/4 tion of the Constitution and Canons of the Church," and would thereby be subjecting themselves tO possible discipline. He and the Diocesan Standing Committee also met personally with the Rt. Rev. Robert DeWitt, the former bishop of that diocese, and asked him to withdraw from the proposed ordina-tion. On July 29 the ordination took place. The ordaining bishops were the Rt. Rev. Robert DeWitt, formerly of Pennsylvania, the Rt. Rev. Edward Wells, Retired Bishop of West Missouri, and the Rt. Rev. Daniel Corrigan, formerly director of domestic mission work for the Episcopal Church and later dean of Bexley Hall Divinity School in Roches~ter, New York. The Bishop of Costa Rica, the Rt. Rev. Antonio Ramos, was present but did not participate in the ordainiiag. He was the only diocesan bishop in the group. On July 31 the Presiding Bishop called the House of Bishops into special session August 14-15 in Chicago to consider the situation. In the meanwhile, formal charges were filed against the participating bishops by the Bishop of Western New York. They were later withdrawn, then reinstated, and at the present writing are still pending. 146 bishops voted at tha~ meeting. They adopted this resolution by a vote of 129-9 with 8 abstentions: The House of Bishops in no way seeks to minimize the genuine anguish that so many in the Church feel at the refusal to date of the Church to grant authority for women to be considered as candidates for ordination to the priesthood and episcopacy. Each of us in his own way shares in that anguish. Neither do we question the sincerity of the motives of the four bishops and 11 deacons.who acted as they did in Philadelphia. Yet in God's work, ends and means must be consistent with one another. Furthermore, the wrong means to reach a desired end may expose the Church to serious consequences unforseen and undesired by anyone . Resolved, that the House of Bishops, having heard from Bishops Corrigan, DeWitt, Welles, and Ramos the reasons for their actions, express our disagreement with their decision and action. We believe they are wrong; we decry their acting in violation of the collegiality of the House of Bishops as well as the legislative processes of the whole Church. Further, we express our conviction that the necessary conditions for valid ordination to the priesthood in the Episcopal Church were not fulfilled on the occasion in question; since we are convinced that a bishop's authority to ordain can be effectively exercised only in and for a community which has authorized him to act for them, and as a member of the episcopal college; and since there was a failure to act in fulfillment of constitutional and canonical requirements for ordination. The resolution went on to call for the 1976 General Convention to recon-sider the issue of the ordinationof women, and for all involved to wait for that reconsideration. Apparently this is not going to happen. There have been several occasions on which various of the women have functioned as priests. The most publicized events were the celebration of the Eucharist at Riverside Church, and the ap-pointment of two of the women priests to the faculty of Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, Mass., with the provision that they will function as priests in the seminary chapel. There are at least two cases being prosecuted Women Priests and the Episcopal Church / 521 against male priests, for allowing one or more of the women to celebrate or con-celebrate the Eucharist in their parishes. The truly important aspect of the Bishops' August statement is not their disapproval of the ordination. No one seriously expected them to approve the flaunting of canon law and their own resolution of collegiality. It is the ap-parent acceptance of Bishop Arthur Vogei's theological analysis of the ordina-tion, and the bishops' refusal to accept the "validity," not simply the "regularity" of the ordination. It is freely admitted on all sides that the ordina-tion was in violation of the actual canon law of the Episcopal Church on several counts: 1. There is no provision for ordaining women to the priesthood. 2. The women were ordained neither by their own ordinaries, nor with their consent. 3. The required canonical consent of the Diocesan Standing Committees was not obtained. Two of the candidates did attempt to obtain this consent, but it was refused. One diocese (Central New York) has granted it post fac-turn. (The Standing Committee is an invention of the American Episcopal Church in the 18th century which sought successfully to limit the arbitrary power of bishops by requiring the formal consent of a Standing Committee of priests and lay persons to all ordinations, sales of church property, and certain other acts.) Prior to voting on the motion, the Bishops received the report of their Committee on Theology, delivered by the Rt. Rev. Donald J. Parsons, Bishop of Quincy, and formerly Dean and Professor of New Testament at Nashotah House Seminary, and the Rt. Rev. Arthur Vogel, Bishop of West Missouri, a member of the Anglican-Roman Catholic International Commission and formerly Professor of Systematic Theology at Nashotah. The resolution adopted quotes verbatim from their reports. Bishop Vogel's view, expressed in his report, is that validity means "juridical recognition of a ministry by the Church." In this view to call a ministry "invalid" does not mean that it is not true, efficacious, or genuine, but simply that it is not juridically recognized. It is apparently this recognition which the House of Bishops denied the ordination of the women. My personal interest in this decision is that it shifts the ground of "accepted" Anglican theology from the old mhnual theology which calls sacraments valid if the criteria of proper matter, form, intention, minister and recipient are present, to a newer concept. There can be no doubt, in the old terms, that the ordaining bishops intended to ordain the women to the priesthood. They went out of their way to use the "right form," by using the official 1928 version of the ordination rite, rather than the commonly used provisional form of 1970. There has never been any dispute about the right of retired bishops to continue to exercise episcopal functions, and, in fact, many retired bishops have been the principal consecrators of their successors. The stand is taken by Bishop Vogel, and the House, instead, on the nature of the Church as a Eucharistic community, under the presidency of the Bishop. 522 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/4 The Holy Eucharist is offered by the whole community; the bishop unifies the action of the community by his presidency of the assembly. The bishop at one time, in a sacramen-tal manner, (1) represents the Son to the assembly, (2) represents the people of God, (3) represents the Church to itself. His actions in ordaining, then, are actions within the Community. He ordains "not as an individual but as the head of the eucharistic community." Bishop Vogel quotes the Orthodox theologian Dr. J. D. Zizoulas in saying, "There is no ministry in the Catholic Church that can exist in absoluto," and again, "there is no apostolic succession which does not go through the concrete com-munity." He comments: Within a diocese the bishop and presbyters form a college among themselves; the bishop and deacons constitute another community. The important point is that ordination, ac-cordingly, is entrance into a new community--the ministerial community--rather than the bare bestowal of a power. In ordination bishops do not pass on a power which they possess as individuals to other individuals who do not have it. That would be a baton-passing theory of ordination; the community would count for no more than the crowd watching a relay race. Here we find sacramental theology and theology of ministry tied solidly into ecclesiology, so that they are not left to wander in absoluto, causing endless problems for sacramental theologians. Ministry is within the eucharistic community of the Church. This is a primitive, and patristic view, often associated with the name of St. Cyprian of Carthage, and is, in the best sense of the word, "Episcopal" ecclesiology. Bishop Vogel concludes: The intention must originate in the community and be sacramentally personified by the community's bishop or his delegate within the episcopal college. Such authorization is necessary, or the people and bishop are not acting as a community--as one with the Church. Where there is no such authorization, where the jurisdiction of one bishop and com-munity is usurped by a bishop (or bishops) without jurisdiction, community and collegiality are broken . The ingredients of an ordination simply were not present. The bishops' conclusion that the group assembled in P, hiladelphia was not a real eucharistic community can, of course, be debated. On the other hand, the bishops, priests, deacons, and lay people who gathered in the Church of the Advocate in Philadelphia on July 29, 1974 did not claim to be a local con-gregation gathered around their bishops, nor did they claim to be the "rem-nant" of the True Church, separating themselves from a false institution. They claimed to be acting in and for the Episcopal Church, of which they were all members. But, the bishops object, they were not only unauthorized to act for the Episcopal Church in ordaining these women, the ordaining bishops were specifically bound by an undertaking with their brother bishops not to act in this way. The inevitable result is that the Church does not recognize their act. At this point, some people cry "Foul!" They object that they have meticulously followed the rule~ of the manuals to make sure that their acts would be recognized as valid, but the bishops have changed the rules, moving from a Medieval scholastic conce.pt of validity to a Cyprianic and Eastern one. Women Priests and the Episcopal Church / 523 The protest certainly has point, but it is paradoxical that most of the usual supporters of the kind of manual theology which the bishops rejected in Chicago are opposed to the ordination of women, while those most vocally concerned with the communal nature of the Church support their ordination. The idea, however, is not novel in Anglican theology, and fits well, in fact better, into traditional Anglican teaching than does manual theology. Both William Temple and Michael Ramsey spoke of the bish@ in ordination as not acting apart from the Church. This presentation, of its nature, cannot end with conclusions, but only with an observation, and a number of questions, which I believe to be those that presently face the Episcopal Church. They will, 1 believe, illuminate the dis-cussion of related issues in other Churches. The observation is that the Bishops of the Episcopal Church appear united in their belief that women have been given too small a share of the decision-making processes of the Church, and, whether or not the ordination of women to the priesthood is authorized in 1976, it seems clear that women will get more important positions in the "power structure." The questions are these: 1) Is female gender a diriment impediment to ordination to the priesthood? In this context the remarks of Robert F. Capon are exceptionally apt: If women are human, we can no longer go on talking about them as if they were some of our best friends. They are us. Any doctrine of the ministry, therefore, which effectively says that they are anything less must be abandoned. ("The Ordination of Women: A Non-Book," in Anglican Theological Review, SS 2 [Sel~t. 1973] p. 77) There are, nevertheless, a few Anglican theologians, and several bishops who would respond to our question with a solid yes. 2) If it is granted that women can be ordained, should a Church as numerically insignificant as ~he American Episcopal Church, even with the support of the worldwide Anglican Communion, alter 1900 years of contrary custom and proceed to do so? Many Anglicans would answer with the Orthodox that such things must await the summoning of the 8th Ecumenical Council. Anglicans are com-mitted to the view that they are only a part of the Catholic Church, and are reluctant to go out on a limb alone. Ordaining women will certainly cause the Episcopal Church problems in its dialogue with both Roman Catholics and Orthodox, but if it is right, then fear of unjust excommunication has never been an acceptable defense for failure to act. 3) Granted that it is possible, is it necessary for the Episcopal Church to ordain women, even at the cost of splitting our own Church? Certainly, if we do ordain women, we must be aware of the'havoc we shall raise with thestatus quo. There is already a shortage of"payingjobs" for priests in the Church and ordaining women will compound the problem. The women themselves are also likely to wind up underpaid and overworked in parishes that men have turned down. These dangers must be honestly faced. 524 / Review for Religious, lZolume 34, 1975/4 4) Finally, there are the large questions of the meaning of ordination. Can bishops, simply by virtue of their orders, and without the authority of the com-munity whose bishops they are, confer orders? Traditional Western sacramental theology has said yes, but that it is wrong for bishops to act in this way. Traditional Eastern sacramental theology has said no, that they act only in and for the Church. This is the position which the American House of Bishops took in Chicago. It is a position which seems to hold promise for a sacramental theology based upon the doctrine of the Church as the Body of Christ, and Christ Himself as the true minister of the sacraments. Reprints from the Review "The Confessions of Religious Women" by Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. (25 cents) "Institutional Business Administration and Religious" by John J. Flanagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J. (20 cents) "Authority and Religious Life" by J. M. R. Tillard, O.P. (20 cents) "The Death of Atheism" by Rene H. Chabot, MoS. (20 cents) "The Four Moments of Prayer" by John R. Sheets, S.J. (25 cents) "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation" by the Congregation for Religious (35 cents) "Meditative Description of the Gospel Counsels" (20 cents) "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer" by Herbert Francis Smith, S.J. (25 cents) "Religious Life in the Mystery of the Church" by J. M. R. Tillard, O.P. (30 cents) "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits" by John R. Sheets, S.J. (30 cents) "Consciousness Examen" by George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. (20 cents) "Retirement or Vigil?" by Benedict Ashley, O.P. (25 cents) "Celibacy and Contemplation" by Denis Dennehy, S.J. (20 cents) "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat" by Herbert F. Smith, S.J. (20 cents) "The Healing of Memories" by Francis Martin (20 cents) Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Revision of the ConstitiJtions: Meaning, Criteria and Problems Juan Manuel Lozano, C.M.F. Father Juan Manuel Lozano was Visiting Professor of Spirituality in the Divinity School of St. Louis University during the past semester. He is on the faculty of Lateran University and of his Institute's seminary: Claretianum; Via Aurelia 619 15, 00144 Rome, Italy. Religious communities are at present engaged in the final stage of the revision of their Constitutions in the aftermath of Vatican Council 11. Most of them, indeed, have already celebrated their first General Chapter after the Special Chapter of Renewal; and, according to the norms in force they must send the resulting text to the Holy See after the last touches are made by the next General Chapter. Institutes are still bustling especially because all the members of the various communities have been called to participate in the review of what had been their basic codes. Perhaps it will be helpful to set forth some personal ideas and experiences on the meaning of the present work of revision and on the problems which have been created by it. 1. The Starting Point The revision of their Constitutions by all religious institutes had been made obligatory by Vatican II in its decree, Perfectae Caritatis (par. 3). From the text of the decree itself, it is evident that the center of gravity of this paragraph was not the revision of documents, but rather the spiritual renewal and adapta-tion to the times of religious life in all its various aspects: the manner of living, praying and working, and the government of the various institutes. The revi-sion of the Constitutions emerges as a consequence of this in the second part of the paragraph cited: "Therefore let constitutions, directories., be suitably revised and, obsolete laws having been suppressed, be adapted to the decrees of this sacred synod." 525 526 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/4 The principle for the revision of the Constitutions, basic documents that are intended to inspire and rule the life of a religious community, is, therefore, to be drawn from the preceding paragraph of Perfectae Caritatis (no. 2) where both renewal and adaptation have been defined. In fact, even if in the text, probably because of Latin usage which prefers to join adjective to a substan-tive rather than two substantives, has the form: accommodata renovatio, in-stead of renovatio et accommodatio, the rest of the paragraph makes it clear that the council is referrit~g to two different realities by the term: a movement of spiritual renewal in fidelity towards the Gospel and towards the spirit of the founder, and another movement of fidelity to the real, historical condition of man: "renewal" and "adaptation." In speaking of the first movement, the council uses a biblical term: to go back, to return (sh~b) with God as its object is an expression commonly used in the Bible to designate conversion.~ A constant return to the sources of Christian Life and to the founder means, therefore, that a permanent move-ment of conversion must characterize religious communities. Religious life has always to return to being the privileged expression of Christian and authentic religious sentiment. Since this privileged expression was formulated in the past, in those historical periods in which the Church and the religious com-munity were founded, this conversion implies a return to the past, a pilgrimage back to the sources. Yet this return to the past happens only on the surface, since neither Christ nor the gifts of the Spirit that were granted to the founder belong!to the past; they are always alive. From this perspective, renewal might better be termed "a going inside" rather than "a going back." For its part, adaptation also should mean "a going inside"--an entering into actual, living humanity. And thus, religious life, following the logic of the Incarnation, must embrace both the Spirit that comes from God and the needs that come from society. Both renewal and adaptation, then, are two different expressions of a constant search for authenticity. This means that there are two basic facts, subsumed by the council in its recommendation of renewal and adaptation, that will influence the revision of the constitutions: human fallibility, and human historicity. In terms of these realities, religious life is constantly exposed to a series of trends that originate both from within (the community itself) and from without (society). And so religious life must constantly return to its double source of inspiration. As a matter of fact, human fallibility seems to have more effect on the daily life of the religious than it does on his Constitutions. For, even if the charism of infallibility does not extend to the spiritual doctrine that is ex-pressed in the Constitutions (they remain, after all, a purely human comment on the Gospel), it is nevertheless true that very often they have been written by one who was a faithful disciple of Christ, and that they have always received the approval of the Church. And this approval of the Church guarantees that the Constitutions are at least a sufficient guide by which to lead a life that is ICf. Jer 3,22; 4,1. Hos 6,1; Joel 2,12 . . . Revision of the Constitutions: Meaning, Criteria and Problems / 527 committed to divine service. On the other hand, the approval of the Church does not assure us that the text of a given Constitution will keep its value per-manently, or that it is the best possible expression of spiritual doctrine, etc. This reality, of course, is connected rather with human historicity than with human fallibility. Nor does it seem to me that the approval of the Holy See guarantees fidelity on the part of the community to what had been the idea of the founder. The Church, to be sure, gives canonical approval to those ideas that the com-munity believes best expresses its spirit. And in so doing, the Church recognizes that the community in pursuing its project has a right to exist within the People of God without interference in regard to the more technical problem of the fidelity of some later changes to the idea of the founder. There are some communities which have obtained from Rome approval for a change in the formulation of their ministries which research has demonstrated were not truly faithful to the idea of the founder; they are now going back to the older formulation. On this level of being faithful to the original idea of the founder, Constitutions are subject to human fallibility, just as is religious life itself; and a revision may thus be necessary. Historicity touches the Constitutions more deeply, In certain instances, even when they were actually written by the founder, Constitutions appear too strictly conditioned by the limits of a mindset that was common at a certain time and in a certain society. Founders were, thank God, real, living men; they were not only the recipients of a charism, but they were also the products of a particular ambience. Some Constitutions, composed in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, i.e., in a time when spiritual theology was in decadence, show an approach to some features of Christian religiosity that may hardly be kept as permanent, classical formulations: for example, a purely negative ap-proach to consecrated chastity, a negative way of expressing mortification, a passive doctrine of obedience. Now, can we honestly think that a text which spoke of chastity only to forbid any kind of sexual acts expressed the basic value of consecrated chastity? Or that a text which expressed a very austere image of self-denial without enlightening it by the glory of the Resurrection could be the direct reflection of the Gospel? Or, on the contrary, were these the fruit of the spiritual attitude of a particular culture the natural causes of which can be uncovered by historians? We have to come to the conclusion that in the area of spiritual theology there are obsolete expressions just as there are ob-solete juridical or disciplinary norms. Not only Canon Law, but theology, too, is a product of history. Other, more recently written Constitutions have a purely juridical-disciplinary character in that they reproduce with few variations the Normae secundum quas, a document that was elaborated by the Congregation for Bishops and Regulars at the end of the last, and beginning of this century.2 2Published, e.g., by L. R. Ravasi C. P. in De Regulis et Constitutionibus Religiosorum. Rome 1958, pp 187-226. 52~1 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/4 Now the Normae expressly exclude from the Constitutions every kind of text dealing with theology and spirituality.3 This was quite understandable as a reaction against the simple exhortatory booklets that had been sent to the Holy See by most of the founders during the last century. It was also the result of the juridical optimism which had engulfed the Church in years in which Congregations of simple vows received their first official acknowledgement as religious institutes, receiving for the first time definite norms concerning their status in the Church, and years in which the entire Latin Church became in-volved in the creation of its first Code of Canon Law. What we have is the product of a certain mentality, one which belongs neither to the basic evangelical values of religious life nor to the charism of particular founders. This mentality is connected with a certain historical situa-tion. And, of course, it is impossible for any text to be in complete abstraction from its own times. Even the Rules of St. Augustine, St. Benedict and St. Francis are historical monuments, the reflection of a particular period of human history, as well as source documents of profound spirituality. In calling for renewal, th~n, th6 Church is clearly not asking that religious remove their Constitutions from every historical context, since, in any case, this would be quite impossible. But there are different ways of being related to history. A classic text, even if it keeps the flavor of the times in which it was composed, can give a balanced formulation of values that are permanent, and for this reason it will appeal to many generations. Other texts, however, re-main more on the surface, and tend to be influenced more strongly by the limitations of the culture in which they were written. This should neither sur-prise nor disappoint us. It takes time, after all, to develop a classical master-piece! Immediately after the promulgation of the decree, Perfectae Caritatis on October 25, 1965, two tendencies began to emerge among religious. One tendency, the more conservative, tried to limit the revision of the Constitutions to the suppression of obsolete norms and to adaptation to the new decrees. Revision, understood thus, followed the criteria which had inspired the earlier re-edition of Constitutions that had been necessary after the promulgation of the Code of Canon Law in 1917. The other tendency, more liberal and aware of cultural conditioning, pres-ent in many texts, affirmed the need to adapt the entire text of the Constitutions to the "spirit of the Council," i.e., to the theological and spiritual vision which had been growing in the Church during recent decades but which has burgeoned enormously in the aftermath of the Second Vatican Council. Since the decree, Perfectae Caritatis, speaking in a very general way, could not fix precisely the extension of the revision it called for, the problem remained aNormae I, IV n 33: Ravasi p 183. The prohibition was practically abolished in the new Normae issued in 1921. Cf Ravasi p 231. But at that time most .of the Constitutions of the modern Congregations had already received their last form. Revision of the Constitutions: Meaning, Criteria and Problems / 529 unsolved until the motu proprio, Ecclesiae Sanctae, was promulgated, in which Paul VI fixed criteria for the revision that was to take place. Prior to this, it had been possible to suppose that the depth of any revision would de-pend in every case on the quality of the original basic text. But this was precisely what was at issue in the discussion between both tendencies within the various communities. 2. Criteria for Revision On August 6, 1966, Pope Paul VI published his motu proprio, Ecclesiae Sanctae, which looked to the implementation of four decrees of the Council, the second of which was Perfectae Caritatis. In this portion of the document, one section is dedicated to the laying down of criteria for the revision of Constitutions: Ecclesiae Sanctae II, 12-14. The motu proprio, in dealing with principles for the revision of Constitutions, showed genuine development. Not only did it fix some points firmly, but it traced the general pattern that all Constitutions must follow. The criteria he gave can be summarized as follows: A. Constitutions, as religious life itself, must have a twofold aspect: doc-trinal and canonical. "Doctrine" here embraces two different facets: 1) the common elements that are essential for religious life in its union with the Church; 2) the par-ticular charism of the institute, expressed by the original idea of the founder and developed by an authentic living tradition. The "canonical elements" are to define the character, purpose and means of the institute. Character refers to an Order with autonomous monasteries or with centralized government, a Congregation of simple vows, an Apostolic Society, a Secular Institute, etc. Purpose embraces the general goal of religious life, and the particular charism of the individual community. Some communities have special ministries. Others are oriented in general towards evangelization in all its forms. The universal or particular character of their mission in the Church should be clearly expressed. In the Normae secundum quas that is followed by most of the modern Congregations, the general and particular goals were separated in two different paragraphs? These two paragraphs can be blended into one rich formulation that reflects the living unity in which they are associated in reality. Means are all the particulars that further community life, the profession of the evangelical life and the special ministry of the community. Therefore, they include spiritual and canonical 4No~'mae 1901 il, I, 1 nn 42-46, Ravasi p 195. cf also p 234. In the Normae the two purposes were called primary and secondary, using a terminology which sounds at least strange when applied to institutes whose founders had been first moved by the idea of responding with an apostolic ministry to certain concrete needs of the Church. The apostolic purpose (sometimes expressed through a fourth vow, or an equivalent commitment) has been the core around which the religious life has developed in many Institutes, from the Knights of Malta, to the Dominicans, Jesuits, Lasalle Brothers, Claretians . This is the reason why the praxis of calling both purposes general and specific has prevailed. ~i30 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 norms, basicstructures of government, requirements of formation and incor-poration, and the works of the apostolate. The introduction of this first principle in the motu proprio, i.e., that both doctrinal and canonical elements are required in any proposed revision, con-stitutes a fortunate change of direction in the policy that had formerly been followed by the Church. We have seen that the Normae secundum iluas ex-cluded every kind of doctrinal expression. And even if the idea was later tempered, in actual fact Constitutions remained mostly juridical codes. Now, if this might have been acceptable for Constitutions of the Regular Orders which also have a "Spiritual Rule" as part of their basic documents, in all in-stitutes founded after the Mendicant Orderg, the Constitutions are their only basic code. Therefore they have need of a doctrinal definition of the vocation and spirit of their respective communities. B. Constitutions are to be a text of essentials. The motu proprio emphasizes this characteristic. Constitutions must con-tain "the principles of religious life/and/the necessary juridical norms" (no. 12). For this reason, all elements that are not related to the basic features of the kind of religious life professed by the particular institute should not be in-cluded in its Constitutions. This recommendation of the Pope offers a very rich idea of what Constitutions ought to be. Constitutions should be a "charter" of charity, of communion,5 in which all the members of the institute, though they belong to different times and cultures, are able to recognize their own vocation and spirit. This implies that only the really essential features, of that vocation and spirit should be defined in the Constitutions, leaving the res~ to the initiative of the Holy Spirit and to the inescapable pluralism that varying circumstances demand. St. Benedict had well expressed this idea when, in explaining why he is opposed to setting down many norms about food and abstinence, he states in his Rule: "Everyone has received from God his own gift, one in one way, another in a different way. So it is with some hesitation that we fix/any/ measures for others.''6 From this point of view, Constitutions should express a minimum--the essential minimum. C. The motu proprio explicitly excludes from Constitutions all elements which are subject to change, which are now obsolete, or which correspond to local usages. Behind this criterion lies the idea 'that Constitutions should, as far as possi-ble, retain a permanent value.A community cannot change its Constitutions frequently without jeopardizing the peace and stability of the community. Therefore Constitutions should now tend to be what the "Rule" was for the Orders: a permanent and undiscussed source of inspiration. D. Regarding the form of Constitutions, the motu proprio recommends concision and precision. SThis was the. title given by the Cistercians to their most ancient constitutional text. Cf PL 166,1377-1384. 8Regula 40,1-2. Revision of the Constitutions: Meaning, Criteria and Problems / 531 Concision: "necessary norms., not excessively multiplied" (no. 12, b). Precision: "in suitable and clear words" (no. 12, a); "in an adequate manner" (no. 12, b). 3. Conclusions and Problems The first criterion, viz., that Constitutions should contain both doctrine and laws, often de facto means the redaction of a new text. As we have already mentioned, many modern Constitutions had only a juridical-disciplinary character. This is probably the main reason why the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, in a statement published on July 12, 1968, declared that the revision of the Constitutions could be understood as the writing of a new text. The only condition is that the individual community must remain within the limits set by the nature, aims and spirit of the institute. Another reason that recommended the composition of a new text was the great difficulty experienced by many communities when they began to in-troduce partial emendations such as new paragraphs on obedience, celibacy, community, liturgy. There were deep differences between two approaches to spirituality: the one being largely individualistic and ascetic, the other being communitarian, liturgical and ecclesial, and these began to appear more strongly. Some communities which had begun to modify the old text finally arrived at the decision to write a new text. Other communities had decided from the beginning to write a new one. In my own experience with different in-stitutes, this decision to rewrite has been a wise one. The application of the criteria laid down by the Ecclesiae Sanctae has given a new shape to Constitutions. This fact has provoked a certain uneasiness among many religious. At first, they did not know what to do with the new doctrinal style. They missed the old disciplinary norms. And we cannot blame them for this. They had been accustomed for years to another kind of legisla-tion. Some of them even expressed their suspicion that the suppression of prac-tical norms was of[en the fruit of a certain relaxation. This attitude seems to result from a twofold misunderstanding: First of all, the new texts do not really make concessions in the direction of relaxation. Certainly they show a more positive approach to the basic features of Christian life and, therefore, the negative vocabulary~ that had been cherished by the Christian spirituality of the last two or three centuries tends to disappear. But if emphasis is placed on the positive and central elements of Christianity, this does not dissipate the negative consequences. Even if new Constitutions focus on following Jesus, they do not forget that in order to follow Him, we have to leave everything for Him. We cannot forget that this is the precise perspective of Christian spirituality as it is presented in the Gospels. On the other hand, there are doctrinal statements which are much more exigent than practical rules prescribing certain austerities. The invitation to be "a sign of contradiction" found in a new text is much more exigent than the rule requiring permission every time a sister leaves the house. The second misunderstanding concerns the value of the doctrinal section. 532 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 Religious are commonly agreed that the new doctrinal texts express in most cases a very rich spirituality. But some of them do not seem to appreciate the exact value of these statements which seem to them to be less binding than the old, disciplinary texts. This is a mistake. The doctrinal texts of the Constitutions do not contain a mere theological reflection. They express the idea that the community itself has of its own vocation and spirit in the Church. And therefore, they bind all the members as long as they desire to remain in the community. Far from being a merely theoretical explanation, they contain what might be called a "constitutional doctrine." Religious who are uneasy with the new style of Constitutions should recall that a text which traces the basic features of a vocation and spirit, a text which describes a mode of existence instead of prescribing a set of practices, a text which prefers the indicative to the imperative is actually more in line with the evangelical idea of Law. The deep difference between the Old Law and the Sermon on the Mount is that Jesus proposes a vocation to men who are no longer servants but friends.7 And who will argue that the Beatitudes are less binding than the Decalogue, even though they move on a different level? The commandments of not killing, of not committing adultery, of not stealing re-quire a material observance, because they express a minimum. The beatitudes on peacemakers, on purity of heart and on poverty on the other hand require a growing fidelity to the Spirit. They express the basic features of Christian ex-istence. If, from one point of view, as has been mentioned, the Constitutions should be the definition of an essential minimum, at the same time the principle that states they should contain the doctrinal formulation of the vocation and spirit of the community makes them also to be the expression of an ideal maximum. They propose a calling which is never completely fulfilled; they show a path on which no one should stop; they set forth the means by which religious can grow in the Spirit. This, also, is the exact meaning of the Beatitudes. We are never completely "poor in spirit," but the poorer we are, the more blessed we are. "You came here to be one heart," writes St. Augustine at the beginning of his Rule for the Servants of God? But he knows that on this earth we are never completely "one heart.''a St. Benedict, too, is well aware of this fact, when he finishes his Rule with the invitation to grow and to grow yet more.~° Constitutions are supposed to reflect the dynamic tendency of Christian ex-istence. Consequently, their observance implies a double fidelity: fidelity to the letter of the essential common laws, and, more profoundly, a dynamic, grow-ing fidelity to the Spirit. 4. Constitutions and Complementary Norms The reduction of the Constitutions to an essential "basic rule" implies as a 7Saint Ambrose, De l~iduis 12,72-73, PL 16,256-257. aRegula ad Servos Dei I, PL 32,1378. Epistola 211,5 PL 33,960. aDe bono coniug. 18,21 PL 40,387-388. ~°Regula 73. Revision of the Constitutions." Meaning, Criteria and Problems / ~i33 consequence the need for a complementary code that should contain more detailed norms. The idea of this complementary "Directory" was suggested by the Pope in Ecclesiae Sanctae. Such a code formerly existed in many Congregations: called in French institutes the Directoire, in the Roman canonical tradition of other Congregations it has been called the Codex luris Addititii (the code of complementary laws.) This Directory is supposed to contain the norms that are ordained to im-plement the Constitutions in all the aspects of the life of the community; prayer, particular traditions, formation, government. All norms which can easily be subject to change should be inserted into this complementary text rather than into the Constitutions. The Directory remains under the exclusive responsibility of the General Chapter while the Constitutions, after their ap-proval by the Holy See, can no longer be modified by the community without approval from Rome. There is today an even greater need for a complete legislation in each in-stitute, for, if the criteria followed in the provisional draft of Canon Law in regard to religious becomes definitive, many norms which were before fixed by common law will be left to the initiative of the individual institute. Since such a "complete legislation" will be made up of two texts, the Constitutions and the Directory, the institutes which have postponed the composition of the second text should now begin to work towards the formulation of their Directory. In suggesting this, we are aware of the heavy burden that such a procedure places on the religious especially of smaller communities. On the other hand, it is worth cautioning against an attempt to fix rapidly an abundance of such com-plementary norms just for the sake of having a "complete legislation." However, at least the most important norms, such as those concerning elec-tions, requirements for certain offices, incorporation into the institute, re-quirements for formation, etc., should be fixed, and the decisions made by the General Chapter should be listed clearly and in order (following the same order as the Constitutions). Furthermore, the Directory should be provisional. Since it will remain within the competency of the institute, the General Chapter will be able to improve upon it in progressive fashion. 5. Definitive Approval of the Constitutions and the New Canon Law The announcement that a new draft of Canon Law in regard to religious is now under study seems to have introduced a new factor of uncertainty in the process that leads to the fixing of a definitive text of the Constitutions. And we can surmise that definitive approval for revised Constitutions will not be granted by the Holy See until the promulgation of the new Canor~ Law. Cer-tainly, since both the new Canon Law and the Constitutions of each com-munity will contain fewer details, there will be less possibility that some points of the Constitutions will be in contradiction to the new code. But there will be many points in which it would be better if the Constitutions used the ter-minology adopted by the code. Will this mean that the period during which the Constitutions will remain under the responsibility of the individual institutes 534 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 will be prolonged by the Holy See? Since religious seem now to have overcome in large part the insecurity which had accompanied the change of their con-stitutional norms, it is possible that the Holy See will study the possibility of giving more time to the maturation of both the Constitutions and the Direc-tory. But it is also possible that the Sacred Congregation for Religious will prefer to open a period of dialogue with individual communities in which the Constitutions will be subjected to examination from both sides, even if they will no longer be under the exclusive responsibility of the individual institute. Surely in either case Roman sagezza will find a way of avoiding the repetition of what happened in the first decades of this century when many Constitutions approved in the first fifteen years of the century had to go back to Rome ten years later to be adapted to the then new Code of Canon Law. Back Issues of the Review The following is a list of the back issues of Review for Religious that are presently available: The first twenty-five volumes (1942-1966) inclusive of the Review have been reprinted in twenty-five clothbound volumes. Volumes 1 to 20 (1942- 1961) sell at $6.50 the volume; volumes 2l to 25 (1962-1966) sell at $7.50 the volume. 1967: All issues 1968: All issues 1969: All issues 1970: All issues 1971: All issues 1972: All issues 1973: All issues 1974: All issues 1975: All issues (except January) (except January) Some of these issues are available only in small numbers. The issues cost $1.75 (plus postage) each and should be ordered from: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Affirmation: Healing in Community Sister Gabrielle L. Jean House of Affirmation, Inc., is an international therapeutic center for clergy and religious, located at 120 Hill Street; Whitinsville, MA 01588. Sister Gabrielle L. Jean, Ph.D., is Director of the Worcester Consulting Center; 201 Salisbury Street; Worcester, MA 01609. Founding of the House of Affirmation The House of Affirmation is an outgrowth of the Worcester Consulting Center for Clergy and Religious which was established in 1970 in response to the expressed needs of the religious professionals of the diocese. The impact of Vatican II had been strongly felt by the clergy and religious who had to meet increased pressures from the demands of decentralization and responsible in-volvement in social and ecclesial issues. The services of the Consulting Center provided a religious professional the opportunity for self-discovery through the contemporary approaches of psychiatry and psychology in ongoing dialogue with theological developments. The Vicar for Priests and Religious, Diocese of Worcester, when ap-proached by the members of the Interim Senate for Religious, was informed of the fact that a sister-psychiatrist was working at the Worcester State Hospital; it was suggested she would probably help in the organization of mental health services for the religious and clergy of the area. The sister, Anna Polcino, a Medical Missionary physician-surgeon who had returned from West Pakistan a few years earlier, was invited to membership on the planning committee which had been brought together to think through the logistics of the enter-prise. She then became the first director of what was to become the Worcester Consulting Center. A young diocesan priest, Thomas A. Kane, was then com-pleting his doctoral work in clinical psychology and he became co-director of the Consulting Center. 535 636 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/4 The overriding goal of the Consulting Center was to help the clients become fully human, consistently free persons within the context of their ecclesial calling and social insertion. Sister Anna and Father Kane undertook to meet this goal through a threefold program of service, education and research. Since its opening, the services and programs of the Consulting Center have included individual consultation, group consultation, group process communication labs, personal growth groups, candidate assessment, lectures and workshops. After two full years of operation, however, it became apparent to Sr. Anna that the outpatient facilities were not sufficient for some religious and clergy who had come to the Consulting Center; there was definite need for an inten-sive residential treatment program. Thus was the House of Affirmation con-ceived. It became a reality in October, 1973, when the doors were opened to its first residents in Whitinsville, Massachusetts. Dr. Anna Polcino assumed the responsibility of psychiatric director of therapy and Dr. Thomas A. Kane became its executive director. The residential center pursues the same goals as the Consulting Center; namely, service, education and research. Philosophy of the House of Affirmation The philosophy underlying the House of Affirmation's existence and operation can be succinctly stated as: treatment of the whole person in a wholly therapeutic environment. Mental health professionals adhering to this basic philosophy meet a real challenge when their clientele is constituted by other professionals whose religious values are central to their vocational choice and identity. Religious men and women have chosen a celibate way of life which jars with the usual Freudian model of therapy. And so an alternative had to evolve to meet the needs of this relatively important and clearly delineated sociological group of celibate religious professionals seeking psy-chological help. A group situation provides a favorable environment for the social relearn-ing that constitutes therapy. Modern psychology emphasizes the tremendous power of the environment on human development and behavior; our sur-roundings exert a molding influence on our behavior. In "milieu therapy," the expectancies and attitudes of the treatment staff are central to bringing about social rehabilitation but the "psychotheoiogical community" concept of the House of Affirmation goes beyond this milieu therapy with its inherent psy-choanalytic orientation and reductionism. There is an existential concern with rediscovering the living person amid the compartmentalization and dehumanization of modern culture. Interest centers on reality as immediately experienced by the person witl~ the accent on the inner-personal character of the client's experience. The therapeutic community supplies the type of accept-ing or impartial reactions from others that favor social learning. Besides, the therapeutic environment prevents further disorganization in the client's behavior by reducing his intense anxieties. Affirmation, Healing in Community / ~i37 Psychotheological Therapeutic Community The House of Affirmation has developed a unique model in its psy-chotheological therapeutic community. The expression "psychotheological community" implies a quest for communion with God and with man. It is an accepted fact that personhood can only be realized in community, and this phenomenological aspect of man's human predicament aligns the model with the existential therapeutic movement.-It seeks to analyze the structure of the religious professional's human existence in view of understanding the reality underlying his being-in-crisis. It is concerned with the profound dimensions of the emotional and spiritual temper of contemporary man. The importance of community looms large in the current psychological literature. Stern and Marino state that "religion and psychotherapy encourage community engagement with life; both can be distorted to emphasize a kind of pulling back in order to ensure personal safety. Insofar as they foster openness, they become true protectors of the role that love can play in cement-ing human relationships, and consequently, the reconciliation of society. The establishment of relationships is the first step in establishing the community. As a stranger becomes familiar, we are in a better position to reach out to him, to join our lives more closely. Our differences will never disappear and we will find it necessary to sacrifice a degree of autonomy.''1 Each person in the community remains a unique individual. He may grow and change in the community but he will retain his identity. Personal union of community members serves to bring out and enrich what is uniquely true of each individual. "Growth in community will be effected by all those active and passive elements that created favorable conditions for the growth of unity and charity: openness, receptivity, sharing, giving, receiving. Community connotes oneness without loss of identity, a sharing in the interiority of another without the sacrifice of personal integrity.''~ The adaptations recommended and wrought by the Second Vatican Coun-cil have changed the pattern of environmental demands on Christians at large, but it has wrought this change even more on formally professed religious men and women. Some have adjusted quickly and almost with eagerness to these changes wliile others have been.floundering in the insecurity of a slow and painful assimilation of change. The poignant experience of confusion, doubt and sense of loss has taxed the coping ability of many who, cut off from safe moorings, question their identity and authenticity in what they consider an un-charted land. The post-Vatican period demands maturity and balance on the part of those chosen to minister to the people of God especially because much risk is involved. ~E. Mark Stern and Bert G. Marino, Psychotheology (Paramus, N.Y.: Newman Press, 1970), p. 66. ~Sister Daniel Turner, "The American Sister Today," in The Changing Sister (Notre-Dame, Ind.: Fides, 1965), pp. 309-310. Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/4 The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen Gentium, emphasized the aspect of community when it spoke of the Church as a "sign and sacrament of man's union with God and of the unity of the whole human race" (LG, 1). The religious community as such cannot form the person although it should provide a setting in which the individual human being can emerge as a fully functioning adult. For too long, religious communities of men and women as well as priests in rectories have had. a task-oriented rather than person-oriented environment. Yet personal development is a basic prerequisite to a meaningful life in society at large and in the local community where the celibate lives. This follows logically from the principle that love of self precedes love of others. However, I can only know myself if another reveals me to myself just as I can only come to a real love of self when I come to the realization that I am loved by another. Likewise does man find his meaning and sense of identity in and through others. The person-oriented group helps man realize his personhood when, through the truth and goodness'of his con-freres, man's own powers of knowing and loving are released. In the therapeutic community of the House of Affirmation, the resident can formulate his own reactions, share them in social communication and thus become aware of the commonness of his own anxieties. By sharing his reac-tions with peers, he is practicing the very techniques of social interaction in which he has typically remained unskilled. In the reactions of his peers with whom he shares his daily activities, the resident finds the acceptance, support, protection, challenge and competition which enable him to develop more valid self-reactions. In addition, the therapeutic milieu provides the opportunity for social interaction among residents and staff. The House of Affirmation is neither a place of confinement nor a haven for "rest and recreation"; rather, it is a miniature social-religious community planned and controlled to facilitate the social learning of its residents. The professional staff members have accepted as the general goal of psychotherapy to help the "unfree," childishly dependent person become a genuine adult capable of "responding affirmatively to life, people and society.''3 The focus is on self-understanding and insight-building of an immediate and current nature in view of helping the individual to grasp the meaning of his existence in its historical totality. Ultimately, the mentally healthy client will attain freedom to choose, maturity in outlook and responsible independence. The life of the celibate can be viewed as an ongoing process of interaction with the religious, social and natural forces that make up his environment. The meaning that life assumes for a celibate depends on his personal response to these forces. The celibate community constitutes a union of persons who par-ticipate in a common love-response to the call of Christ.4 The key to a proper 3John Dalrymple, Christian Affirmation (Denville, N.J.: Dimension Books, Inc., 1971), p. 10. 'Sister Helen Marie Beha, OSF, Living Community (Milwaukee, Wis.: Bruce Publishing Co., 1967), p. 21. Affirmation, Healing in Community understanding of community lies in participation which becomes a unifying force which, at the same time, allows for individual differences. Is not willingness to receive from him one of the dearest gifts one can give to another? Participation characterizes the relationship of individuals united by love in community. All encounters assume meaning in that context; they become avenues to change. The difference his presence makes in the overall community process gives meaning to the celibate's life. Being human really means coming to grips, in a creative way, with the concrete situation in which we find ourselves. The ex-perience of here-and-now is crucial, for life is today--not yesterday or tomorrow. The same applies in the therapeutic situation be it individual or group: the ongoing, immediate experience of residents and therapists as they interact becomes the phenomenological focus in therapy. The total phenomena ex-perienced at any moment in time is what describes man's existential situation; the experienced event is what is brought to therapy. Listening to others as per-sons, looking into their eyes, mind and heart with deep sympathy, feeling that this person is suffering, is appealing to us as a person--is this not affirmative response to Christ's summons: "Love one another as I have loved you" (.In 13:34)? The call to Christian life is ideally expressed in the experience of the Eucharist which is the community experience par excellence. The Eucharist builds up a community of faith, and so it stands at the very center of the psy-chotheoiogical community that is the House of Affirmation; it reveals the solidarity of all members in Christ. It is the same solidarity that is expressed in the opening words of the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, Gaudium et Spes: "The joys and hopes, the sorrows and worries of the men of our time are ours" (GS, 1). The House of Affirmation has thus accepted the challenge of the Fathers of Vatican II who urged, in the same document that we make appropriate use "not only of theological principles, but also of the findings of the secular sciences, especially of psychology and sociology" (GSo 62) to help the faithful live their faith in a more thorough and mature way. In its Decree on the Ap-propriate Renewal of the Religious Life, Perfectae Caritatis, the Council Fathers pursued the same line of thought: "The manner of living, praying, and working should be suitably adapted to the physical and psychological con-ditions of today's religious., to the needs of the apostolate, the requirements of a given culture, and to the social and economic circumstances" (PC, 3). In the article pertaining to chastity, religious are urged to "take advantage of those natural helps which favor mental and bodily health . Everyone should remember that chastity has stronger safeguards in a community when true fraternal love thrives among its members" (PC, 12). Celibate religious professionals who are trained in psychiatry and psychology can bring to bear their own experience in coming to a better understanding of the emotional problems of religious and priestly life today. Such is the case in both of our outpatient Consulting Centers and the residential treatment center of the House of Affirmation. ~i40 / Review for Religious, l/olume 34, 1975/4 For too long, celibates have been frustrated when seeking professional help since they were limited to psychiatrists and psychologists who had little un-derstanding of their religious commitment; the misconceptions that could arise often deterred religious and priests from seeking psychiatric-psychological help. Our residential treatment center has been set up to minimize the threat and the possible alienation attendant on presenting oneself to a professional-type establishment. A home-like atmosphere has been developed which has proved most therapeutic and which prepares the individual to respond to therapyin a very positive manner, and that contrasts with the resistance that is frequently found when working with the laity. At present, there are twenty residents at the House of Affirmation of which thirteen are men. An attempt is being made to establish a better men/women ratio but the fact is that more men than women are referred for residential treatment. The professional staff presently includes one psychiatrist, six psy-chologists, two pastoral counselors and one registered nurse. The basic com-ponents of the therapeutic program are: Mode of therapy Time per session Weekly Individual 1 hour twice Group (same therapist) 1 1/2 hours twice Intercommunication lab I 1/2 hours once Psychodrama 1 1/2 hours once Residents' group (no therapist present) 1 hour once Group design I hour once Ancillary therapies: Photography I 1/2 hours once Movement therapy 2 hours once Physical therapy 1 hour once Alcoholics Anonymous 1 hour once Ceramics 2 hours once Yoga 1 hour once Art therapy 3 hours once Lectures; Psychology/psychiatry 1 hour once Psychotheological reflections I hour once Spirituality 1 hour once An individual priest, sister or brother may be referred to the House of Af-firmation for the purpose of coming to a better understanding of his emotional problems and/or to resolve them. However, the client is always informed that unless he comes of his own free will, therapy will be of little avail to him. No resident is accepted for treatment on the mere recommendation of his religious superiors; the applicant must indicate willingness to come for therapy. The principle of confidentiality is crucial to the operation of the House of Affirma-tion; privacy is maintained at all times. This has produced a sense of security Affirmation, Healing in Community / 541 and trust and the clientele has grown geometrically. Since its inception, it has been stressed that the purpose of the House of Affirmation is not so much keeping the celibate in the religious or priestly life as helping him become truly human and consistently free. Through therapy, he can come to his own deci-sion about his future. In the course of therapy, the client comes to view his experience in wider perspective and he gains a better future orientation. Self-growth demands that the individual have something to aim for, a goal which can be brought into reality through committed action. The individual's task will then be to ac-tualize this possibility, to make it a reality. As a person begins to respond to his feelings, he sees possibilities in his future and makes attempts to achieve these; by so doing, responsible independence increases in his life-style. Many of the problems that have been presented at the consulting centers and at the residential center have been classified as deprivation syndromes and as what Freud has described as repressive neurosis. In the first case, lack of love and acceptance (lack of affirmation) has crippled the psychological func-tioning of individuals; in the latter case, one encounters priests and religious who have made excessive use of the defense mechanism known as intellec-tualization. Many of these individuals are not aware of their emotions and have even repressed anger in their life as celibates. The repression in this in-stance often came about by faulty training which presented the emotion of anger as "unvirtuous," an emotion not to be expressed at any time. Yet Christ found it appropriate to express His emotions: "The angry man who picked up a cord to drive the buyers and sellers out of the temple, who wept in sadness over Jerusalem, who was bathed in sweat before His arrest was not a stoical, emotionless man.''s Through therapy, individual clients become aware of their emotions, are informed that their emotions are basically good and are encouraged to express them in a healthy way within the context of a celibate life. Individual therapy is supported by group therapy where anger-feelings may be expressed and accepted as such. The re-educative process is somewhat long and painful but it "pays off" in a more personally satisfying and productive life. Having been af-firmed by a significant other in the course of individual therapy and, in turn, affirming others, the healed resident knows and feels who he is. He finds that he is different from others but that he is acceptable, that he belongs in com-munity, that he is contributing to it and changing it. He has come to realize that there is a unique place for him in society, that he has a unique contribu-tion to make to it, that he can choose freely to do and to love.6 The effectiveness of this model has already been substantiated by in-house research. It is very likely that it will find still further support for its claims with the passage of time. 5Dalrymple, op. cir. p. 111. nThomas A. Kane, Who Controls Me? (Hicksville, N.Y.: Exposition Press, 1974), pp. 75-76. Prayer: A Thematic Bibliography Compiled by David Ricken Mr. David Ricken is a seminarian of the Diocese of Dodge City, Kansas. His current address: 1501 Belleview--Apt. //3; La Junta, CO 81050. The purpose of this bibliography is to present some of the best authors and books on prayer to a variety of people who are in(erested in prayer for a variety of reasons. This bibliography is divided into several themes so that the reader may easily select that book which is best suited to his interest and purpose. Of course, division brings limitation, and the placement of each work into one particular theme is, on occasion, arbitrary and personal. Attempt has been made, however, to classify each work according to that theme which appears to be central to the book. Obviously, there are many more books on prayer which have not been listed here. However, better to have read one book and to pray than to have read many books and to not pray. l--Prayer: Introductions: Bloom, Archbishop Anthony. Beginning to Pray. Paramus: Paulist. This book is an experience in prayer and contains helpful suggestions and en-couragements to begin one's quest of love for God. Chapman, Dom John. The Spiritual Letters of Dora John Chapman. London: Sheed & Ward, 1935. This work is a compilation of letters, and does not pretend to be a survey or summa of the spiritual life; );et it has become a classic, mostly because of its sound advice on spiritual life in general and mysticism in particular. Guardini, Romano. Prayer in Practice. New York: Pantheon, 1957. 542 Prayer." A Thematic Bibliography / 543 Written by an excellent theologian of several years ago, Prayer in Practice is a thorough, highly intelligible introduction to prayer. The scope of the book is broad, and the author delicately intertwines and balances theory and practice. Jarrett, Bede, O.P. Meditations for Lay-Folk. St. Louis: B. Herder This book is a series of well-thought-out essays on every aspect of Catholic thought and living, but the few sections on prayer are especially fine. Father Jarrett shows prayer to be, in one sense, the "pondered love of God," the lifting of the mind through the heart, and the gradual taking on of God's point of view. It also tries to relate prayer to every possible circumstance of life, thus broadening the base of prayer, making it something more than a narrowly spiritual activity. Father Jarrett shows that there is a totality to prayer, as there should be a totality to man's life with God. He also shows that prayer is normal, since God is interested in every human being and every human being is called to a deep and intimate life with Him. For Father Jarrett, prayer is eminently the "'voice of faith," the living embodiment in one's life of what one believes. It is the natural blossom-ing of the knowledge of the Faith in one's life. It is the voice and nourishment of a per-sonal seeking of God. Maritain, Jacques and Raissa. Prayer and Intelligence. New York: Sheed & Ward, 1943. Comprising less than fifty pages, it is a study of prayer based on St. Thomas and St. John of the Cross. It is not written in philosophical or theological language, but sets forth in very simple language the path of prayer for Christians and is applicable not only to the learned theologian and religious teacher, but also to the ordinary housewife who is a child of God and called to a life of prayer. McNabb, Vincent, O.P. The Path of Prayer. Springfield, 111.: Templegate. This small book is written in the form of a "diary of Sir Lawrence Shipley," and in it Father McNabb embodies some of the fundamental principles of prayer, based on the theology of St. Thomas Aquinas. Prayer is shown to be the habit of leaning on God and the total ordering of one's life to God. It also shows that prayer does anything but produce passive men. Rather it opens up every human possibility and the use of every human gift in God's service. It is a careful reflection on the principles and implications of the life of prayer, enabling one to begin building a personal "pragmatic" of prayer. Rahner, Karl, S.J. On Prayer. Paramus, N.J.: Paulist. With that bold insight and careful respect for the truth so characteristic of him, Rahner has given us the fruit of his search for God. It is clearly discernible that for this eminent theologian, there is hardly.a distinction between theology and prayer. In a style which is easy to understand, he articulates his vision of prayer, one which is truly authentic and truly beneficial. ll--Prayer: Reflections: Caretto, Carlo. Letters From The Desert. Maryknoll: Orbis, 1972. This is prayer incarnate. Prayer as passion, as compassion, as the life and breath of a virile and contemplative mind in a passionate search for the core of his being. Prayer drove Carlo Caretto into the desert, where he could listen to the voice of God in silence and solitude. There is a freshness and primitive innocence to his words as God begins to take hold of his whole being. This is the chronicle of one man's desert experience. Caretto, Carlo. The God Who Comes. Maryknoll: Orbis, 1974. ~i44 / Review for Relibious, Volume 34, 1975/4 This is another presentation of Brgther Carlo's thoughts and reflections from his solitude in the Sahara desert. Written in a simple and direct style, the main thrust of his writing deals with man's hope for "the God Who comes." The book treats ofthe Church as an in-stitution of men and women and as a divine reality which through its renewal and change will evermore make known the gratuity of God. In parts, Brother Carlo speaks of his own life in solitude, his prayer, his contempla-tion and his own dialogue with Jesus. Farrell, Rev. Edward J. Prayer is a Hunger. Denville: Dimension, 1972. Father Farrell writes of prayer as a hunger to be intensely experienced and as a journey to be creatively undertaken. These reflections in solitude encourage the reader to keep a "journal" as an enticement to prayer. The book itself exemplifies this "'journal" ap-proach and helps one to begin to see what prayer is all about. Nouwen, Henri J.M. With Open Hands. Notre Dame: Ave Maria, 1972. With gentleness and authenticity, Nouwen has here developed an artistry which is at once rare and most welcome. With Open Hands is a prayer, for it helps the one who enters into it to allow the walls which he has built around himself to crumble. The author truly teaches the reader to open his hands. Turro, James. Reflections--Path To Prayer. Paramus, N.J.: Paulist, 1972. The beautiful blend of captivating color photographs and a profound text has produced a masterpiece which can lead to prayer with ease. Ill--Prayer: The Presence of God. Abhishiktananda (Henri Le Saux, O.S.B.) Prayer. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1972. To be Christian is to be contemplative. To be Christian is to live in awareness of the presence of God. Contemplation is not the private possession of monks and nuns, priests and religious. It is a gift of God to every man to be exploited and enjoyed. Born in the West, this monk has completely immersed himself in the spiritual heritage of the East. He is one of those phenomenal men who has not lost the roots of his own tradition, but is himself a bridge between East and West. Brother Lawrence. The Practice of the Presence of God. Springfield, I11.: Templegate, 1963 (3rd Edition). This little classic is Franciscan in its primitive simplicity, almost like a page out of a diary of St. Francis. The sheer beauty of God has captivated the heart of Lawrence, and the glimpses that he gets of God in the world around him and in God's Word shatters his heart, developing a spirituality that destroys every last ounce of the fear and diffidence that once motivated him. The introduction by Dorothy Day puts the times of Brother Lawrence into focus and the trans.lation by Donald.Attwater is limpid and clear. This is an account of growth in genuine prayer and the gradual opening of one man's mind and heart to the loveliness of God. It is a paradigm of prayer of great depth and beauty. IV--Prayer: Hesychasm or Prayer of the Heart: Anonymous. The Way of the Pilgrim, and The Pilgrim Continues His Way. (translated from the Russian by R. M. French) New York: Seabury Press, 1965. Prayer." A Thematic Bibliography / 545 After hearing in an Epistle the exhortation of St. Paul "to pray without ceasing," a pilgrim sets out on a journey to do exactly that--to pray ceaselessly. In inspiring narratives, the author instructs the reader about continual interior prayer. This is an ex-cellent introduction to the "Jesus Prayer." Chariton, Igumen (compiler). The Art of Prayer: An Orthodox Anthology. London: Faber & Faber, 1966. Dove Publications. This great anthology is concerned chiefly with one particular prayer, the "Jesus Prayer." This simple prayer has become the edifice upon which many Orthodox have built their spiritual life and through which many have penetrated to truth. This compilation of texts from spiritual men of many ages demonstrates the depth and riches of such a simple prayer.*** Kadloubovsky, E., and Palmer, G. E. H., translators. Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart. London: Faber & Faber, 1951. "Philokalia" means "'love of the beautiful" and it was the purpose of the Fathers of the Eastern Church to instill a sense of the beautiful and the sacred in their disciples. Concerned with hesychasm or prayer of the heart of which the "Jesus Prayer" is the prime example, these writings instruct and exhort the Christian in the way of the prayer of the heart.*** Maloney, George, S.J. The Jesus Prayer. Pecos: Dove Publications, 1974. George Maloney is steeped in the Russian hesychasm tradition, and this little booklet is an invaluable introduction to this form of prayer. A Monk of the Eastern Church. On the Invocation of the Name of Jesus. Ox-ford: S.L.G. Press, 1970. Nearly every sentence of this little book is loaded with power. To really appreciate it one must live with it, almost devour it. The author proceeds very logically from an explana-tion of the form of the "Jesus Prayer" to the explication of the theological implications and nuances contained in the "Jesus Prayer." A Monk of the Eastern Church. The Prayer of Jesus. New York: Desclee, 1965. This is considered the ciassic guide to, and explanation of, the "'Jesus Prayer." V--Prayer: The Scriptural Approach: The Psalms by God and man. Von Balthasar, Hans Urs. Prayer. Paramus, N.J.: Paulist Press, 1961. Father Hans Urs Von Balthasar has divided prayer into three main sections: "The Art of Contemplation," "The Object of Contemplation," "Polarities in Contemplation." He approaches the subject in a very masterly fashion, applying copiously many texts drawn from Sacred Scripture. He re-orientates prayer by re-orientating man, reminding him that he is redeemed, a son of God. Bro, Bernard. Learning to Pray. Staten Island: Alba House, 1966. 546 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 Despite his many assertions of generous disposition and openness to God, man always seems to find an excuse not to pray. Expanding on the texts, "Lord, teach us how to pray," and "could you not watch one hour with Me?" Bro sets out to show that prayer is a very necessary and vital part of faith. Johnston, William. "The Mystical Reading of the Scriptures--Some Suggestions from Buddhism." Cistercian Studies, #1, 1971. Johnston maintains that while Scriptural exegesis has "boomed ahead with great 61an," the understanding of Scripture at a deeper level than scholarship has made little progress. He suggests that Christians can learn from Buddhism ways of understanding Scripture at a deeper level--primarily through the use of the Koan and mantras taken from Scripture. Worden, T. The Psalms are Christian Prayers. London: Chapman, 1962. The purpose of this book is to re-orient andto change the reader's outlook on the ideas of the Old Testament. It attempts, and succeeds in creating a new mentality in the reader, one which assents to the truth that the Psalms are Christian prayers. VI--Prayer: Mental: Lehodey, Dom Vitalis, O.C.S.O. The Ways of Mental Prayer. Dublin: M. H. Gill & Son, 1955. Noted for its simplicity and clarity of style, Lehodey has succeeded in writing an excellent guide for mental prayer. The accomplishment of Lehodey in this work should not be dis-missed or overlooked because of what appears to be, in recent decades,, a declining in-terest in mental prayer. Rohrbach, Peter Thomas. Conversation with Christ: An Introduction to Men-tal Prayer. 3rd Ed. Denville: Dimension, 1965. Modeled after the prayer of St. Theresa of Avila, Conversation With Christ makes one point: mental prayer is "conversation with Christ." The style is simple and lucid. This makes an excellent introduction to this form of prayer. VII--Prayer: The Oriental Approach: Johnston, William. Christian Zen. New York: Harper & Row, 1971. Almost entirely practical in nature, this little book tries to make sense of Zen for the Christian by explaining some of the methods which can lead to "enlightenment." (cf. The Still Point, a book by this author which gives a psychological explanation of Zen and a discussion of the meeting point of Christian mysticism and Zen.) (cf. Silent Music, another book by this author which treats of the science of meditation. He writes of the similarities of the deep states of consciousness in various religious traditions. A good scientific evaluation.) Stevens, Edward. Oriental Mysticism. New York: Paulist, 1973. This is an integrated treatment of mysticism which combines experience, theory, and practice. Treading Buddhism, Zen, Hinduism, Taoism, the author discusses the necessity of meditation and the need of Western man to develop this ancient art. Temple, Sebastion. How To Meditate~ Chicago: Radial Press, 1971. Prayer." A iThematic Bibliography / 547 The author, a former Hindu monk, provides here n.ot only a "'complete guide to yoga techniques," but also an excellent resource book foi" meditation. VIII--Prayer: Contemplative and Mystical: ' Anonymous. The Cloud of Unknowing and the Book of Privy Counseling. (ed. William Johnston) Garden City: Doubleday, 11973. This is the classic Western exposition of the Byzan~tine tradition of mysticism which found its richest form in the writings of the "Pseudo-Dionysius." Recognizing that God is beyond all our concepts, that the Lord of Heaven add Earth is clothed in Mystery, the "Cloud," formulates a pragmatic of prayer based upon this profound insight into the transcendence of God. The unknown author recognizes that the vitality of prayer must be maintained and that the very obscurity of faith can deter from prayer. Prayer here is not understood as a static act, however, and that is where the author recognizes that he may be misunderstood: it is an attitude of mind, a "looking towards God," a life-style and a modality of thinking and acting. The Introduction by William Johnston is scholarly and thorough, linking the Cloud with other prayer traditions. The Cloud itself is a tightly reasoned book and is meant rather as an encouragement to those who find themselves quite alone in their searching and pursuit of God. This aloneness, this "forgetting," this "unknowing" is part of the pursuit, and the profound advice of the author of the Cloud leads to a number of important convictions in the whole business of prayer.*** Borst, J.M.H.M. "A Method of Contemplative Prayer." Review for Religious 33:4 (July, 1974), 790-816. The author makes an orderly recommendation of different "phases" of contemplative prayer and strongly urges that if one wants to be contemplative, he must practice con-templative prayer regularly. Catherine of Sienna. The Dialogues of St. Catherine of Sienna. Westminster: Newman Press, 1950. St. Catherine's dialogues are a lucid commentary on a living relationship with God and in them she mediates and articulates the full implications of theology regarding man's relationship with God. She lays down the conditions for growth in a vibrant and vital relationship and by the use of stirring and striking imagery communicates something of the scope and texture of true holiness. What is especially significant is the positive view of human things and the role of personal initiative and responsibility. From the theological point of view, she articulates the reality of a "personal providence," the intimate care and concern that God has for each one per-sonally and the tension and dynamics of this personal Providence. The end result is the strengthening of the spirit in a profound and personal hope in God and the growing ability to read the living signs of this hope in one's own life. This is "mysticism" at its best, but a mysticism completely devoid of subjectivity, opening up the mind to the rich possibilities of a personal encounter with God. Unfortunately, the translation is a bit archaic, but the living thought of St. Catherine still comes through.*** Higgins, John J., S.J. Merton's Theology of Prayer. Spencer, Mass.: Cistercian Publications, 1971. 54B / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 This study of Thomas Merton's theology of prayer shows the total consecration to com-panionship with God which was Merton's legacy. It shows the unity of Merton's thought and development, the spiritual passion that characterized his early years and the develop-ment of that passion to something close to spiritual genius. Merton's ability to nourish his prayer-life from hundreds of different sources, and the blossoming of that prayer-life in his varied writings reveals the depth and dimensions of this remarkable spiritual per-sonality. Prayer, in all its richness and beauty, is shown to be the result of normal faith and normal intelligence--but as fully exploited in a personal pursuit of God. This is different than is to be found in some other studies of prayer, in that it shows the embodi-ment of a prayer tradition in the life of one man, a man for whom God and prayer were the totality of life. Merton, Thomas. The Ascent.to Truth. New York: Harcourt, Brace, 1956. The finest introduction in any language to the mystical theology of St. John of the Cross. A lucid and clear exposition of the whys of prayer in the Juan de la Cruz tradition, with distinctions and clarifications which make it a very valuable theological work. Perhaps the finest of Merton's early works in which he shows himself to be a superb and masterly theologian. Merton, Thomas. Contemplative Prayer. New York: Herder & Herder, 1969. In Merton's solid "educated English," he traces the steps to an "educated awareness of God," the cultivation.of which is the finest fruit of faith. His thought ranges from the lim-pid simplicity of the early monks to the most brilliant insights of contemporary theology. This is adult spirituality at its best, with the Merton mind showing the full human and personal implications of a life of prayer. In this book, Merton becomes the guru, the prayer-tutor, sharing his own convictions and prayer-life with a wider audience. Merton, Thomas. New Seeds of Contemplation. N.Y.: New Directions. in this book, Merton covers all the elements of the interior life building up to a solid con-templative life of prayer. This is a very good psychological description of the experience of contemplative prayer. It is a revision of one of Merton's early works, perhaps the most enduring of the early writings. Morales, Jose L. (editor) Contemplative Prayer according to the Writings of St. Theresa of Jesus and St. John of the Cross, Doctors of the Church. An excellent compilation of texts about contemplative prayer by two great con-templatives.*** Underhill, Evelyn. Practical Mysticism. New York: Dutton, 1960. This highly competent and well-known author in the area of mysticism has here succeeded in clearing up the nebulous, ethereal thinking that is often characteristic of things dealing with the mystical. Voillaume, Rene. The Need of Contemplation. London: Darton, 1971. Contemplation is ndcessary for man's very survival, and it is time for man to begin to cultivate a contemplative attitude by proceeding to the heart of things. Love will overflow from the reservoirs of each individual's living contact with Christ. Love begets love; love begets contemplatives. Whalen, Joseph, S.J. Benjamin: Essays in Prayer. New York: Newman, 1972. An initiation into the world of wonder is an appropriate description of Benjamin. Whalen perceives the contemporary human situation and introduces the reader to the con-templative act--to wonder. Prayer." A Thematic Bibliography / 549 IX--Prayer: The Holy Spirit: Bennet, Dennis & Rita. The Holy Spirit and You: A Study-Guide to the Spirit- Filled Life. Plainfield, N.J.: Logos Int, 1971. This is an especially thorough and helpful explanation of that facet of the experience of God which is often called "the Spirit experience." Well done. John of St. Thomas. The Gifts of the Holy Ghost. (tr. by Dominic Hughes, O.P.) New York: Sheed & Ward, 1951. This classic work, using the framework of the traditional teaching on the Gifts of the Holy Spirit, focuses on the action of God leading a person to freedom, to openness to God and to a deep life of prayer. The book shows how the gifts and action of the Spirit prepare a man for his encounter with God, giving him clarity of vision, flexibility and resilience, making fertile his freedom, and leading him to explore the wonder and magnitude of God. The book is difficult reading in places, but the implications of the teaching are critical to any real life of prayer. John of St. Thomas shows that the gifts are purification, education, insight and are the full blossoming of faith and a vibrant love of God. By the gifts, the seeker of God begins to share, in some small degree, in the abundance and plenitude of God. In the words of St. Thomas, the gifts are the deep interior currents of a life of prayer, giving to a man a certain kinship, a connaturality with Divine Things. They make a man a lover of God, the~, bring about a state of intimacy with God and Divine Things, and give a foretaste of beatitude. By tl~e gifts, a man exchanges a human standard for a Divine one, and begins to measure his life and his expectations by a Divine yardstick. They open wide the horizons of loving God, enabling a man to "'dream the im-possible dream." Sherrili, John. They Speak With Other Tongues. N.Y.: Pyramid, 1964. A very skeptical journalist relates his contact with and eventual experience of the gift of tongues. This is a valuable explanation of the not-too-long-ago unusual phenomenon which has become wide-spread and highly significant. X--Prayer: Best Sellers: Carothers, Merlon R. Prison to Praise. Plainfield, Logos, Int., 1970. Praise and thank God for all things, even for bad situations and circumstances. This is the basic tenet of a series of books on praise, written by this author. Carothers uses l Thess 5:16-17 as the basis for this form of prayer which has proven itself a powerful aid in revolutionizing people's lives. Parker, Dr. William F. and St. Johns, Elaine. Prayer Can Change Your Life. New York: Pocket Books, 1957. This best seller discusses "prayer therapy," a psychological experiment in prayer which helped forty-five people to grow to greater emotional wholeness and to gain peace of mind. For a good understanding of the nature of Western Mysticism, see "The Nature of Mysticism" by David Knowles in the Twentieth Century En-cyclopedia of Catholicism. ***It is to one's advantage to bring to this book some experience in prayer and especially an understanding of the spiritual, theological and philosophical milieu of the age in which the author wrote, in order to appreciate the full impact of the work. it is also to one's advantage to read this book under the guidance of a spiritual advisor. Models of Poverty Gerald R. Grosh, S.J. Gerald R. Grosh, in addition to teaching theology at Xavier University in Cincinnati, is a member of the staff of the Jesuit Renewal Center; P.O. Box 289; Milford, OH 45150. In his latest book, Models of the Church,~ Avery Dulles elucidates five models2 of the Church which he finds operative "in the minds of the faithful. He analyzes each one in terms of the advantages and disadvantages that each model has in aiding Christian living. Ultimately, Dulles says that the Church is a mystery and that no one model can adequately encompass a mystery. Rather, he states that the models are mutually complementary like the ¯ different shades and colors that blend together to create a total picture. The book is very freeing since it allows for various models and opens up other dimensions of the Church--especially for those persons who are locked into one framework. The aim of this article is to do for our notion of poverty what Dulles has done for our notion of the Church. In our time religious generally are uneasy about their practice of poverty. Often it seems that specific features of our practice of poverty can be amply justified if they are taken one by one. But the features taken all together, the total picture, clearly leave much to be desired. What is wrong? Where do we fail? Perhaps the failure in poverty, if indeed it is failure, results from a too exclusive concentration on one model of poverty, from our failure to let our own dominant model of poverty be balanced ade-quately by other models. It is the belief of this author that a clarification of the 1Avery Dulles, Models of the Church (Garden City: Doubleday and Company, inc., 1974). 2A model is an attitude of mind or a mental framework. It is a way of looking at and understand-ing a particular phenomenon, it points more to a structure of the mind than to a particular con-tent. 550 Models of Poverty / 551 models involved would facilitate the discussion as well as the choices that are made. I shall delineate seven models which 1 see operative in our discussions of poverty. I shall briefly describe each model, indicate the spiritual value which it strives to encompass, indicate its advantages and disadvantages, and list some practical suggestions which might be in accord with a given model. 1. Pnverty as Cnmmunitarian Sharing The call to religious life is a call to living the vows in community. Religious life witnesses to the experience of community as we share our lives together and work toward the common goal of preaching the good news of Jesus Christ. The vow of poverty, then, calls us to share not only our living together and working together but also our material goods. This is rooted in the experience of the early Church: "The whole group of believers was united, heart and soul; no one claimed for his own use anything that he had, as everything they owned was held in common" (Acts 4:32). This model of poverty as communitarian sharing points to the fundamental unity which we have as religious--namely, a unity of heart. We are all believers. We share a common vision of faith and hope. We are united in love. Each person's value is not what he owns or has, but who he is. So deep is our oneness that we live in community and share our possessions. The goal is the underlying unity of mind and heart. One of the advantages of this model is that it aims at eliminating differences between "rich and poor" and focuses on the equality of all. It at-tacks the roots of ownership which can so easily foster vanity and greed. Thus whatever is given to one is given to the whole community and goes to "the common barrel." The spiritual foundation for this mutual sharing of goods is the mutual care that the members of a given community have for one another. The disadvantage of this model is that it becomes more difficult to live as life becomes more complex. We know that we need certain things for apostolic use. How, then, does one regulate the quality and quantity of goods that are needed? How does one maintain the equality of all and the non-ownership of all? The traditional response t6 this dilemma has been to link the acquisition and use of goods with receiving permission for them from the superior. The underlying purpose of asking permission has been to aid our acting as non- . owners and to help free us from the power that is present in ownership. But it has been difficult for individuals not to compare what they have with what others have and therefore to justify their own acquisition of the same thing or of something else. It has been difficult for a superior to say "no" to one where he has said "yes" to another. Furthermore, critics of the system have pointed out that an adult makes his own decisions and that this practice has often seemed infantile. Also, as superiors so readily grant permission, the require-ment has come to be seen by many as a formality to be gone through or even ignored. It has also been difficult to draw a fine line between what one needs and what one wants. 552 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/4 In the judgment of this author, in so far as poverty has been linked to ask-ing permission for goods, it has failed--whether one blames the notion itself or the persons who have failed to live it. However, the model of poverty as com-munitarian living does have something to offer us today. The essence of the model is the mutual sharing of material goods in community. It would seem to preclude the private appropriation of goods (personal TVs, personal cars, etc.). It would also seem to preclude the free disposition of one's salary, e.g., the buying of books or equipment, travel, relaxation, or even almsgiving. 2. Poverty as Simplicity of Life- The second model of poverty is that of the frugal life-style or "simplicity of life." This model focuses clearly on poverty as a fact, i.e., material poverty. The spiritual foundation of simplicity of life is that it aids to singularity of pur-pose and locus--namely on the Lord and His work. Nothing else matters that much. This model of poverty is easily linked with the model of poverty as un-ion with the poor. Stated simply, this model of simplicity of life points to the fact that a poor man does not have a lot of material possessions or the free dis-position of a lot of money. The advantage of this model is that it can act as a deterrent or as a negative norm for how we spend our money. Does a poor person have a color TV or is he able to jet across the country, or have a stereo set? How often can the poor person or family afford steak? Lavish spending is seen as an insult to the poor who struggle for their food and their meagre existence. Such spending is also seen to imply contempt for human w~rk and the dignity of man involved in working hard for a day's pay. Also, as with the model of poverty as com-munitarian sharing, this model takes away the sense of power that is involved in the possession of goods and in the lavish disposition of one's finances. The advantage, then, of this model of poverty is that it keeps one mindful of his union with the poor Christ and honest in terms of what he spends. Its primary disadvantage is that it can cause one to be so absorbed in bookkeep-ing and penny-pinching that he loses the perspective of apostolic service. However, there are also other possible disadvantages that can accompany this model. Too great an emphasis on material things can lead to a pharisaism which overlooks the more important poverty of spirit. It can also result in divisiveness and criticism within communities as some will need more things than others to carry out their apostolic work. The particular way of living according to this model would call a person to be continually mindful of how his or her standard of life compares with' the poor. Such things as careful personal and community budgets, economical automobiles, buying articles on s.ale, adjusting budgets to meet emergencies, are evidences of the

Issue 28.3 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellavd, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the cditor, the associate cditors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIOIOUS; 6~2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallcn, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 \ffiHings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania t9~o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by facuhy members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis Universiw, tbe editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building ; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonttdy and copyright 1~) 1969 by REviEw v(m REt.mlncs at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00, Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and stlould be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REWEW :-'OR RELt(3IOt:S in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to pcrsons claiming to represent REVIEW YON RELIGIOUS, Change of address requests sbould include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom-panied by a remittance, should he sent to :-'oa RELmtOL'S; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, M aryla nd 21203. Changes of add ress, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by RELIGIOES ; d~213 East Preston Street; Baltimore, MarTland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIE\V FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 Nortb Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to tile address of the Questions and Answers editor. MAY 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 3 CONGREGATION FOR RELIGIOLIS Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation INTRODUCTION In its discussion of the question of renewal to the end that the Church might be enriched with a greater abun-dance of spiritual strength and be the better prepared to proclaim the message of saIvation to conterdporafy man, the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council devoted no small measure of attention also to those who pursue the divine gift of a religious vocation; and it set forth in a clearer light the nature, structure, and importance of their way of life.1 Concerning their place in the body of the Chul;ch the Council affirmed: "Although the re-ligious state constituted by the profession of the evangelical counsels does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the Church, nevertheless it belongs in-separably to her life and holiness." 2 Besides, "since it is the function of the hierarchy of the Church to nourish the people of God and lead them to the choicest p~tstures (cf. Ezek. 34, 14), it devolves on the same hierarchy to govern with wise legislation the practice of the evangelical counsels. For by that practice is uniquely fostered the perfection of love for God and neighbor. Submissively following the promptings of the Holy Spirit, the hierarchy also endorses rules formt~lated by eminent men and women, and authenticall~ ap-proves later modifications. Moreover, by its watchful and shielding authority, the hierarchy keeps close to com-munities established far and wide for the upbuilding of Christ's body, so that they can grow and flourish in ac-cord with the spirit of their founders." ~ x See the dogmatic constitution Lumen gentium, nn. 411 It.; ed. Abbott, pp. 73 lid and the decree Per[ectae caritatis, ed. Abbott, pp.o 4. 6L6umen gentium, n. 44; ed. Abbott, p. 75. " s Ibid., n. 45; ed. Abbott, p. 75. Religious Formation VOLUME;28, 1969. + ÷ ÷ Religious Formation REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS It is no less true that the generous vitality, and es-pecially the renewal of the spiritual, evangelical, and apostolic life which must animate the various institutes in the untiring pursuit of an ever greater charity is the responsibility chiefly of those who have received the mission, in the name of the Church and with the grace of the Lord, to govern these institutes, and at the same time of the generous collaboration of all their mem-bers. It is of the very nature of the religious life, just as it is of the very nature of the Church, to have that structure without which no society, not even a super-natural one, would be able to achieve its end or be in a position to provide the best means to attain it. Wherefore, having learned also from centuries of ex-perience, the Church was led gradually to the formula-tion of a body of canonical norms, which have con-tributed in no small degree to the solidity and vitality of religious life in the past. Everyone recognizes that the renewal and adaptation of different institutes as de-manded by actual circumstances cannot be implemented without a revision of the canonical prescriptions dealing with the structure and the means of a religious life. As "the suitable renewal of religious communities de-pends very largely on the training of their members," 4 several congregations both of men and of women, anx-ious to work out the renewal desired by the Council, have endeavored by serious inquiries and have often taken advantage of the preparation of the special gen-eral chapter prescribed by the motu proprio Ecclesiae sanctae (II, n. 3),5 in order to discover the best conditions for a suitable renewal of the various phases of the formation of their members to the religious life. Thus it was that a certain number of requests were formulated and transmitted to the Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes, especially through the Union of Superiors General. These requests were intended to secure a broadening of the canonical norms actually governing religious formation, in order to permit the various institutes, conformably to the in-structions of the decree Perfectae caritatis, nn. 3 ff.,6 to make a better adaptation of the entire formation cycle to the mentality of younger generations and modern living conditions, as also to the present demands of the apostolate, while remaining faithful to the nature and the special aim of each institute. It is evident that no new clear and definitive legisla-tion can be formulated except on the basis of experi-ments carried out on a sufficiently vast scale and over a ~ Perfectae caritatis, n. 18; ed. Abbott, p. 478. ~ Ecclesiae sanctae, II, part 1, n. 3. 6 Per[ectae caritatis, n. 3; ed. Abbott, p. 469. sufficiently long period of time to make it possible to arrive at an objective judgment based on facts. This is most true since the complexity of; gituations, their varia-tions according to localities and the_ rapidity;,:of ~the changes which affect them make it' impossible for those charged with the formation of the youth of today to an authentic religious life to determine a priori which solu-ti6fi~ Ifii~h~ b~°best." '" ~ T!fi~ is'why~ tlils~.Sacred Congregatioff fOf~Rbligious and for Secular Institutes, after careful examination of the proposals submitted regarding the different phases of religious formation, has deemed it opportune to broaden the canonical rules now in force in order to permit these necessary experiments. Nevertheless, al-though the juridical norms are being eased, it is im-portant that this not b~ to the detriment of those basic values which the prevailing legislation undertook to safe-guard. For "it must be seriously borne in mind that even the most desirable changes made on behalf of con-temporary needs will fail of their purpose unless a re-newal Of spirit gives life to them." ~ In order to be authentic, every revision of the means and the rules of the religious life presupposes at the same time a redefining of the values which are essential to the religious life, since the safeguarding of these values is the aim of these norms. For this reason and in order to permit a clearer understanding of the significance of the new rulings set forth in this present Instruction, the Sacred Congregation has deemed it useful to preface them with certain explanatory remarks. SOME GUIDELINES AND PRINCIPLES !--Not only the complexity of the situations alluded to previously, but also, especially, the growing diversity of institutes and of their activities makes it increasingly difficult to formulate any useful set of directives equally applicable to all institutes everywhere. Hence the much broader norms set forth in this Instruction give to in-dividual institutes the possibility of prudently choosing the solutions best suited to their needs. It is especially important, particularly with reference to formation and education, to remember that not even the best solutions can be absolutely identical both for institutes of men and those of women. Similarly, the framework and the means of formation must vary ac-cording as an institute is dedicated to contemplation or is committed to apostolic activities. ' Ibid., n. 2, e); ed. Abbott, p. 469. 4" 4" + Religious Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ Religious Formation REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2--Questi0ns raised by the faculty granted in this iptr oespepnotr. tIunnsetr, utcot~io_n~.r teop ~theo~speo i~nasrti.ytu~t_es_ ow~h.sic=hw, lmthi-~hlt~ dereem kin,,q.~9_~nt, emphasize the necessity of recalling here the nature iind the proper value of religious profes-sion. Such profession, whereby the members "either by vows or by other sacred bonds which are like vows in their purpose," 8 ~in-'d~"~s ~e~e ~Tzg~ who alone is worthy of.such a sweeping gift on the part of a human person. It is more in keeping with the nature of such a gift to find its culmination and its most eloquent expression in perpetual profession, whether simple or solemn. In fact, "this consecration will be all the more perfect according as through firmer and more solid bonds there will be reflected the image of Christ united with the Church His Spouse through an un-breakable bond." o Thus it is that religious profession is an act of religion and a special consecration whereby a person dedicates himself to God. Not only according to the teaching of the Church but likewise by the very nature of this consecration, the vow of obedience, whereby a religious consummates the com-plete renunciation of himself and, along with the vows of religious chastity and poverty, offers to God as it were a perfect sacrifice, belongs to the essence of religious profession,x0 Thus consecrated to Christ, the religious is at ttie same time bound to the service of the Church and, according to his vocation, is led to the realization of the perfection of that apostolic charity which must animate and impel him, whether in a life entirely given over ~o contempla-tion or in different apostolic activities. This notwith-standing, it is important to note that, even though in institutes dedicated to the apostolate "the very nature of the religious life requires apostolic action and serv-ices," ix this apostolic activity is not the primary aim of religious profession. Besides, the same apostolic works could be carried out quite as well without the consecra-tion deriving from the religious state although, for one who has taken on its obligations, this religious consecra-tion can and must contribute to greater dedication to the apostolate. Hence, although it is in order to renew religious life in its means and its forms of expression, it cannot be asserted that the very nature of religious profession must be changed or that there should be a lessening of the Lumen gentium, n. 44; ed. Abbott,.p. 74. Ibid., n. 44; ed. Abbott, p. 74. lo Perlectae caritatis, n. 14; ed. Abbott, p. 477. ~ Ibid., n. 8; ed. Abbott, p. 477. demands proper to it. The youth of today who are called by God to the religious state are not less desirous than before; rather they ardently desire to live up to this vocation in all its requirements, provided these be cer-tain and authentic. 3--Nevertheless, in addition to the religious vocation strictly and properly so called, the Holy Spirit does not cease to stir up in the Church, especially in these latter times, numerous institutes whose members, whether bound or not by sacred commitments, undertake to live in common and to practice the evangelical counsels in order to devote themselves to various apostolic or chari-table activities. The Church has sanctioned the authentic nature of these different modes of life and has approved them. Still, these modes do not constitute the religious state even though, up to a certain point, they have often been likened to religious life in canonical legislation. Therefore, the norms and directives contained in this present Instruction deal directly with religious institutes in the strict sense. Other institutes, however, if they so wish, are free to follow them in the proper organization of their formation program and in whatever is best suited to the nature of their activities. 4~The faculties granted to religious institutes by this present Instruction have been suggested by a certain number of considerations based on experience which it is in order to explain briefly here. It would appear that in our day and age genuin~ religious formation should proceed more by stages and be extended over a longer period of time since it must embrace both the time of the novitiate and the years following upon the first temporary commitment. In this formation cycle the novitiate must retain its irreplace-able and privileged role as the first initiation into re-ligious life. This goal cannot be attained unless the future novice possesses a minimum of human and spiritual preparation which must not only be tested but,, very often, also completed. In fact, for each candidate the nov_i_t~te_ should come at the moment ,~hen, aware of G'b'td s call, h-~h~ reached that a~gree o'-o'-6~h~man and spiritua! maturity which will allow him to decide to respond to this call with sufficient and proper responsibility and freedom. No one should enter religiou~ life without this choice being freely made and without the separation from men and things which this entails being accepted. Nevertheless, this first decision does not necessarily demand that the candidate be then able to measure up immediately to all the demands of the religious and apostolic life of the institute; but he must be judged capable of reaching this goal by stages. Most of the difficulties encountered ÷ + ÷ Religious Formation VOLUME 28,. 1969 859 ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Formation REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS today in the formation of novices are usually due to the fact that when they were admitted they did not have th.e required maturity. Thus, preparation for entrance into the novitiate proves to be increasingly necessary as the world becomes less Christian in outlook. In most cases, in fact, a gradual spiritual and psychological adjustment appears to be in-dispensable in order to prepare the way for certain breaks, with one's social milieu and even worldly habits. Young people today who are attracted by the religious life are not looking for an easy life; indeed, their thirst for the. absolute is consuming. But their life of faith is Oftentimes based on merely elementary knowledge of doctrine, in sharp contrast to the development of their knowledge of profane subjects. Hence it follows that all institutes, even those whose formation cycle includes no postulancy, must attach great importance to this preparation for the novitiate. In institutes having minor seminaries, seminaries, or go!leges, candidates for tlie religious life usually go di-rectly to the novitiate. It will be worthwhile to recon-sider if this policy should be maintained, or if it is not more advisable, in order to assure better preparation for a.fully responsible choice of the religious life, to prepare for the novitiate by a fitting period of probation in order to develop the human and emotional maturity of the candidate. Moreover, while it must be recognized t.hat problems vary according to countries, it must be aiTarmed that-the age required for admission to the novitiate should be higher than heretofore. 5--As regards the formation to be imparted in the novitiate in institutes dedicated to the works of the ~postolate, it is evident that greater attention should be paid to preparing the novices, in the very beginning and more directly, for the type of life or the activities which will be theirs in the future, and to teaching them how to realize in their lives in progressive stages that co- .'.hesive unity whereby contemplation and apostolic ac- ~ti;~ity are closely linked together, a unity which is one of th~'"ra~st ftifl'daiiie'n't~l~'and primary values of these same societies. The achievement of this uriity requires proper understanding of the realities of the super-nattiral life and of the paths leading to a deepening of union with God in the unity of one same supernatural love for God and for men, finding expression at times in the solitude of intimate communing with the Lord and at others in the generous giving of self to apostolic activity. Young religious must be taught that this unity so eagerly sought and toward which all life tends in order to find its full development cannot be attained on the level of activity alone, or even be psychologically experienced, for it resides in that divine love which is the bond of perfection and which surpasses all under-standing. The attainment of this unity, which cannot be achieved without long training in self-denial or without persevering efforts toward purity of intention in action, demands in those institutes faithful compliance with the basic law of all spiritual life, which consists in arranging a proper balance of periods set aside for solitude with God and of others devoted to various activities and to the human contacts which these involve. Consequently, in order that novices, while acquiring experience in certain activities proper to their insti-tute, may discover the importance of this law-and make it habitual, it has seemed advisable to grant to those institutes which might regard it as opportune the faculty of introducing into the novitiate formative activity and experimental periods in keeping with their activities and their type of life. It must be emphasized that this formative activity, which complements novitiate teaching, is not intended to provide the novices with the technical or professional training required for certain apostolic activities, train-ing which will be afforded to them later on, but rather to help them, in the very mids~ of these activities, to better discover the exigencies of their vocation as re-ligious and how to remain faithful to them. In fact, confronted with the diversity of apostolic ac-tivities available to them, let religious not forget that, differently from secular institutes, whose specific activity is carried out with the means of the world or in the performance o1~ temporal tasks, religious must, above all, according to the teaching of the Council, be in a special manner witnesses to Christ within the Church: "Re-ligious should carefully consider that, through them, to believers and non-believers alike, the Church truly wishes to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ. Through them Christ should be shown con-templating on the mountain, announcing God's king-dom to the multitude, healing the sick and the maimed, turning sinners to wholesome fruit, blessing children, do-ing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father who sent Him." 12 There is a diversity of gifts. Wherefore, each one must s~ia'd~"~-n in the vocation to which he has been called, since the mission of those called to th~ rdli~iotis~t~te~i~a the Church is one thing; the mission of secular insti-tutes is another thing; the temporal and apostolic mis-sion of the laity not especially consecrated to God in an institute, is quite another. Lumen gentium, n. 46; ed. Abbott, p. 77. ÷ Religious Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 36! Religious For~nation REVIEW FO~ RELI~IOOS 362 It is in line with this perspective on his vocation that whoever is called by God to the religious state must understand the meaning of the in the novitiate. Therefore, the nature and these periods, as well as the them into the novitiate, will formation which is begun the educational value of timeliness of introducing be evaluated differently in. congregations of men or of women, in institutes dedicated to contemplation or to apostolic activities. Indeed, the effectiveness of this formation, while it is imparted in an atmosphere of greater freedom and flexibility, will also depend largely on the firmness and the wisdom of the guidance afforded by the novice master and by all those who share in th~ formation of young religious after the novitiate. It is extremely im-portant also to recall the importance of the role played in such formation by the atmosphere of generosity pro-vided by a fervent and united community, in the midst of which young religious will be enabled to learn by experience the value of mutual fraternal assistance as an element of readier progress and perseverance in their vocation. 6--In order then to respond to this same need of gra'dual formation the question has arisen concerning the"extension of the period prior to perpetual profes-sion in which a candidate is bound by temporary vows or by some other form of commitment. It is proper that when he pronounces his perpetual vows, the religious should have reached the degree of spiritual maturity required in order that the religious state to which he is committing himself in stable and certain fashion may really be for him a means of perfec-tion and greater love rather than a burden (oo heavy to cai'ry. Nevertheless, in certain cases the extension of temporary probation can be an aid to this maturity, while in others it can involve drawbacks which it ~vill not be out bf place to point out. The fact of remaining for too long a time in a state of uncertainty is not always a contribution to maturity, and this situation may in some cases encourage a tendency to instability. It should be added that in the case of non-admission to per-petual profession, the return to lay life will often entail problems of readjustment, which will be all the more serious and trying according as the time spent l~.~-oml:I~ has been longer. Superiors, conse-quently, must be aware of their grave responsibilities in this field and should not put off until the last minute a decision which could and should have been taken earlier. 7--No institute should decide to use the faculty granted by this Instruction to replace temporary vows by some other form of commitment without having clearly considered and weighed the reasons for and the nature of this commitment. For him who has heeded the call of Jesus to leave everything to follow Him there dan be no question of how important it is to respond generously and whole-heartedly to this call from the very outset of his religious life; the making of temporary vows is completely in harmony with this requirement. For, while still retaining its ~y~t~c- t~h a t~it~is~, tem op_~.~y, the profession of first vows make~--the young religious share in the consecration proper to the religious state. Yet, perpet.u~.l vows can be prepared for without making te@orary ~rows. In fact, more frequently now than in the past, a certain number of young candidates come to the end of their novitiate without having ac-quired the religious maturity sufficient to bind them-selves immediately by religious vows, although no pru-dent doubt can be raised regarding their generosity or their authentic vocation to the religious state. This hesi-tancy in pronouncing vows is frequently accompanied by a great awareness of the exigencies and the importance of the perpetual religious profession to which they aspire and wish to prepare themselves. Thus it has seemed desirable in a certain number of institutes that at the end of their novitiate the novices should be able to bind themselves by a ~ different from vows, yet answering their twofold desire to give them-selves to God and the institute and to pledge themselves to a fuller preparation for perpetual profession. Whatever form such a ~tempora .x'~y~fi~ may take, fidelity to a genuine religious vocation demands that it should in some way be based on the require-ments of the three evangelical counsels and should thus be already entirely orientated toward the one per-petual profession, for which it must be, as it were, an apprenticeship and a preparation. 8~He who commits himself to walk in the path of the Savior in the religious life, must bear in mind our Lord's own words that "no one, having put his hand to the plow and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God" (Lk 9:62). Just the same, the psychological and emotional difficulties encountered by some individuals in their progressive adaptation to the religious life are not always resolved upon the termination of the novi-tiate, and at the same time there is no doubt that their vocation can be authentic. In many cases, the permis-sion for absence provided for by canon law will allow superiors to make it possible for these religious to spend some time outside a house of the institute in order to be the better able to resolve their problems. But in some more difficult cases, this solution will be inadequate. ÷ 4. Religious Formation VOLUME' 28o 1969 ¯ 363 Superiors can then persuade such candidates to return to lay life, using if necessary, the faculty granted in Number 38 of this Instruction. 9--Lastly, a religious formation more based on stages and judiciously extended over the different periods of the life of a young religious should find its culmination in a serious preparation for perpetual vows. It is in fact desirable that this unique and essential act whereby a religious.ds cons_ecrated to~.,.God~forever.,,.s_houl.d~be~pr~e_~;, ceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation, spent in retreat and prayer, a preparation which could be like a second novitiate. II ÷ ÷ Religious Formatim~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SPECIAL NORMS The Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes, in its desire to promote necessary and useful experiments in view of the adaptation and renewal of religious formation, having examined these questions in its plenary meetings of June 25-26, 1968, by virtue of a special mandate from the Sovereign Pontiff, Pope Paul VI, has seen fit, by this Instruction, to formulate and to publish the following norms: 10--I. Religious formation comprises two essential phases: the novi~t4ate and the~probationary period which follows the novitiate and lasts for a period adapted to the nature of the institute, during which the members are bound by vows or other commitments. II. A.*.ibreliminar.y-~period~,;of varying duration, obliga-tory in certain institutes under the name of postulancy, usually precedes admission to the novitiate. l l--I, This preliminary probation has as its purpose not merely to formulate a tentative judgment on the aptitudes and vocation of the candidate, but also to verify the extent of his knowledge of religious subjects and, where need be, to complete it in the degree judged necessary and, lastly, to permit a gradual transition from lay life to the life proper to the novitiate. II. During this probationary period it is particularly necessary to secure assurance that the candidate for religious life be endowed with such elements of human and emotional maturity as will afford grounds for hope that he is capable of undertaking properly the obliga-tions of the religious state and that, in the religious life and especially in the novitiate, he will be able to pro-gress toward fuller maturity. III. If in certain more difficult cases, the superior feels, with the free agreement of the subject, that he should have recourse to the services of a prudent and qualified psychologist known for his moral principles, it is de- sirable, in order that this examination may be fully ef-fective, that it should take place after an extended period of probation, so as to enable the specialist to formulate a diagnosis based on experience. 12--I. In institutes where a postulancy is obligatory, whether by common law or in virtue of the constitu-tions, the general chapter may follow the norms of this present Instruction for a be'tter adaptation of the period of postulancy to the requirements of a more fruitful preparation for the novitiate. II. In other instututes it belongs to the general chapter to determine the nature and the length of this prelimi-nary probation, which can vary according to candi-dates. Nevertheless, if it is to be genuinely effective, this period should neither be too brief nor, as a general rule, be extended beyond two years. III. It is preferable that this probation should not take place in the novitiate house. It could even be helpful that, either in whole or in part, it be organized outside a house of the institute. IV. During thi~ preliminary probation, even if it takes place outside a house of the institute, the candidates will be placed under the direction of qualified religious and there should be sufficient collaboration between these latter and the novice master, with a view to assuring continuity of formation. 13--I. Religious life begins with the novitiate. What-ever may be the special aim of the institute, the prin-cipal purpose of the novitiate is to initiate the novice into the essential and primary requirements of the reli-gious life anti also, in view of a greater charity, to imple-ment the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience of which he will later make profession, "either through vows or other sacred bonds which are like vows in their purpose." 18 II. In those institutes where "the very nature of the religious life requires apostolic action and services," 14 the novices are to be gradually trained to dedicate them-selves to activities in keeping with the purpose of their institute, while developing that intimate union with Christ whence all their apostolic activity must flow.15 14--Superiors responsible for the admission of can-didates to the novitiate will take care to accept only those giving proof of the aptitudes and elements of ma-turity regarded as necessary for commitment to the re-ligious life as lived in the institute. 15--I. In order to be valid, the novitiate must be made in the house legitimately designated for this purpose. Lumen gentium, n. 44; ed. Abbott, p. 75. Perfectae caritatis, n. 8; ed. Abbott, p. 472. Ibid. ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Formation VOLUME 28~ 1969 865 Religious Formation REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 566 II. It should be made in the community or group of novices, fraternally united under the direction of the novice master. The program as well as the nature of the activities and work of the novitiate must be organized in such a way as to contribute to novice formation. III. This formation, conformably to the teachings of our Lord in the gospel and the demands of the particular aim and spirituality of the institute, consists mainly in initiating the novices gradually into detachment from everything not connected with the kingdom of God, the practice of obedience, poverty, prayer, habitual union with God in availability to the Holy Spirit, in order to help one another spirtually in frank and open charity. IV. The novitiate will also include study and medita-tion on Holy Scripture, the doctrinal and spiritual for-mation indispensable for the development of a super-natural life of union with God and an understanding of the religious state, and, lastly, an initiation to litur-gical life and the spirtuality proper to the institute. 16--I. The erection of a novitiate does not require the authorization of the Holy See. It belongs to the superior general, with the consent of his council and conformably to the norms laid down in the constitutions, to erect or to authorize tbe erection of a novitiate, to determine the special details of the program, and to de-cide on its location in a given house of the institute. II. If necessary, in order to make more effective pro-vision for the formation of the novices, the superior general may authorize the transfer of tbe novitiate com-munity during certain periods to another residence des-ignated by himself. 17--In case of necessity, the superior general, with the consent of his council and after consultation with the interested provincial, may authorize the erection of several novitiates within the same province. 18--In view of the very i~nportant role of community life in the formation of the novices, and when the small number of the novices would prevent the creation of con-ditions favorable to genuine community life, the superior general should, if possible, organize the novitiate in an-other community of the institute able to assist in the for- .mation of this small group of novices. 19--In special cases and by way of exception, the superior general, with the consent of his council, is em-pqwered to allow a candidate to make his novitiate validly in some house of the institute other than the novitiate, under the responsibility of an experienced reli-gious acting as novice master. 20--For a reason which he regards as just, the major superior may allow first profession to be made outside the novitiate house. 21--In order to be valid, the novitiate as described above must last twelve months. 22--I. Absences from the novitiate group and house which, either at intervals or continuously, exceed three months render the novitiate invalid. II. As for absences lasting less than three months, it pertains to the major superiors, after consultation with the novice master, to decide in each individual case, taking into account the reasons for the absence, whether this absence should be made up by demanding an ex-tension of the novitiate, and to determine the length of the eventual prolongation. The constitutions of the insti-tute may also provide directives on this point. 23--I. The general chapter, "by at least a two-thirds majority, may decide, on an experimental basis, to inte-grate into novitiate formation one or several periods in-volving activities in line with the character of the in-stitute and away from the novitiate, in the degree in which, in the judgment of the novice master and with the consent of the major superior, such an experiment would seem to be a useful contribution to formation. II. These formation stages may be used for one or sev-eral novices or for the novitiate community as a whole. Wherever possible, it would be. preferable that the novices take part in these stages in groups of two or more. III. During these stages away from the novitiate com-" munity, the novices remain under the responsibility of the novice master. 24---1. The total length of the periods spent by a novice outside the novitiate will be added to the twelve months of presence required by Article 21 for the validity of the novitiate, but in such a way that the total duration of the novitiate thus expanded does not exceed two years. II. These formative apostolic periods may not begin until after a miniinum of three months in the novitiate and will be distributed in such a way that the novice will spend at least six continuous months in the novitiate and return to the novitiate for at least one month prior to first vows or temporary commitment. III. In cases where superiors would deem it useful for a future novice to have a period of experience before beginning the three months of presence required at the start of the novitiate, this period could be regarded as a probation period and only after its completion would the novitiate begin. 25--I. The nature of experimental periods outside the novitiate can vary according to the aims of various institutes and the nature of their activities. Still, they must always be planned and carried out in view of forming the novice or, in certain cases, te.sting his apti-tude for the life of the institute. Besides gradual prepara-÷ ÷ Religiotts Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 "" " 367 ÷ ÷ Religious Formation REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 368 tion for apostolic activities, they can also have as their purpose to bring the novice into contact with certain concrete aspects of poverty or of labor, to contribute to character formation, a better knowledge of human na-ture, the strengthening of the will, the development of personal responsibility, and, lastly, to provide occasions for effort at union with God in the context of the active life. II. This balancing of periods of activity and periods of retreat consecrated to prayer, meditation, or study, which will characterize the formation of. the novices, should stimulate them to remain faithful to it throughout the whole of their religious life. It would also be well for such periods of retreat to be regularly planned during the years of formation preceding perpetual profession. 26--The major superior may, for a just cause, allow first profession to be anticipated, but not beyond fifteen days. 27--In institutes having different novitiates for dif-ferent categories of religious, and unless the constitutions stipulate otherwise, the novitiate made for one category is valid likewise for the other. It belongs to the con-stitutions to determine eventual conditions regulating this passage from one novitiate to the other. 28--The special nature and aim of the novitiate, as a/so the close bonds which should be found among the novices, really demand a certain separation of the novice g~oup from the other members of the institute. Never-theless the novices may, according to the judgment of the novice master, have contacts with other communities or religious. Hence it will be the task of the general chapter, taking into consideration the spirit of the insti- ¯ tute and the demands of special circumstances, to decide what kind of contacts the novices may have with the other members of the institute. 29--I. The general chapter may permit or even im-pose during the regular novitiate year certain studies which may be useful for the formation of the novices. Doctrinal studies must be put at the service of a loving knowledge of God and a deepening of the life of faith. II. Excluded from the novitiate year described in Number 21 are all formal study programs, even of the-ology or philosophy, as also studies directed toward the obtaining of diplomas or in view of professional training. 30-~All tasks and work entrusted to novices will be tinder the responsibility and direction of the novice mas-ter, who nevertheless may seek the aid of competent persons. The chief aim of these various tasks must be the formation of the novices, not the interests of the congregation. 31~-I. In the direction-of the novices, particularly during the periods of formative activity, the novice master will base his direction on the teaching so clearly enunciated by the Second Vatican Council: "Therefore, in order that members may above all respond to their vocation of following Christ and may serve Christ Himself in His members, their apostolic activity should result from their intimate union with Him." 16 "To this end, let the members of all institutes, seeking above all only God, unite contemplation, whereby they are united with Him in mind and heart, with apostolic love, whereby they strive to associate themselves with the work of redemption and to spread the kingdom of God." 17 II. With this in mind he should teach the novices (1) to seek in all things, as well in apostolic activities or the service of men as in the times consecrated to silent prayer or study, purity of intention and the unity of charity toward God and toward men; (2) when the apostolic activities of their institute lead them to become involved in human affairs, to learn how to use this world "as though not.usingjtl) ,, ~.~ ,~ . (3) to understand the limitati~"iSf ~l~i~'~'~i~,fi::fictivity without being discouraged and to work at the ordering of thei.r,.ow~,life, bearing in mind that no one can give l~ims~i~'ati~){d~ically to God and his brethren without first getting possession of himself in humility; (4) to bring about in their lives, along with a will which is firm and rich in initiative, and conformably to the demands of a vocation to an institute dedicated to the apostolate, the indispensable balance on both the hu-man and the supernatural level between times conse-crated to the apostolate and the service of men and more or less lengthy periods, in solitude or in .community, devoted to prayer and meditative reading of the Word of God; (5) in fidelity to this program which is essential to every consecrated life, to ground their hearts'~'gr~dually.:,.in. union with God and that peace which comes from doing ~li'g i~#ii~fi will, whose demands they will have learned to discover in the duties of their state and in tne~'prompt~- ings of justice and charity. 32--I. Unity of heart and mind must reign between superiors, the novice master, and the novices. This union, which is the fruit of genuine charity, is necessary for religious formation. II. Superiors and the novice master must always show toward the novices evangelical ~simplicity, kindness coupled w~tb~"gentleness, and respect for their person-ality, in order to build up a climate of confidence, docil-ity, and openness in which the novice master will be able Per[ectae caritatis, n. 8; ed. Abbott, p. 472. Ibid., n. 5; ed. Abbott, p. 470 + + 4. ltetiglous Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 369 )Reiigious Formation REVIEW FOR RElIGiOUS to orientate their generosity toward a complete gift of thdmselves to the Lord in faith and gradually lead them by word and example to learn in the mystery of Christ crucified the exigencies of authentic religious obedience. Thus, let the novice master teach his novices "to bring an active and responsible obedience to the offices they shoulder and the activities they under-take." is 33--As for the habit of the novices and other candi-dates to the religious life, the decision rests with the general chapter. 34--I. The general chapter, by a two-thirds majority, may decide to replace temporary vows in the institute with some other kind of commitment as, for example, a promise made to the institute. r II. This commitment will be made at the end of the novitiate and for the duration of the probationary period extending to perpetual profession or to the sacred com-mitments which are its equivalent in certain institutes.19 LThis ~,~.tm~nt may also be made for a briefer period and be renewed at stated intervals, or even be followed by the making of temporary vows. ¯ 35--I. It is altogether proper that this should have reference to the practice of the three evan-gelical couns61s, in order to constitute a genuine prepara-tion for perpetual profession. It is of the utmost impor-tanc~ to safeguard unity of religious formation. Although the practice of this life is realized definitively at per-petu~ l profession, it must begin quite a long time before this profession. II. Since, therefore, the one perpetual profession as-sumes its full significance, it is fitting that it should be preceded by a period of immediate preparation lasting for a certain length of time and serving as a kind of ~. The duration and details will be deter- ~ b~ the general chapter. 36--Whatever may be the nature of this ~, its effect will be to bind whoever makes it to his congregation or his institute and it will entail the obligation of observing the rule, constitutions and other regulations of the institute. The general chapter will determine otiaer aspects and consequences of this com-mitment. 37--I. The general chapter, after careful consideration of all the circumstances, shall decide on the length of the period of ~s or ¢~ which is to extend from the end of the novitiate until the making of perpetual vows. This period shall last for no less than Ibid., n. 14; ed. Abbott, p. 477. See n. 3 of the present Instruction. three years and no more than nine, counting the time continuously. II. The prescription still stands that perpetual profes-sion must be made before the reception o[ holy orders. 88--I. When a member has left his institute legiti-mately, either at the expiration o[ his ~e.s- ~l~latt_~ommi~m,e~at or after dispensation from these ob-ligations, and later requests re-admission, the superior general, with the consent of his council, may grant this re-admission without the obligation of prescribing the repetition of the novitiate. II. The superior general must, nonetheless, impose on him a certain period of probation, upon the completion of which the candidate may be admitted to temporary vows or commitment for a period of no less than one year, or no less than the period of temporary probation which he would have had to complete before per-petual profession at the time he left the institute. The superior may also demand a longe~ period of trial. III APPLICATION OF THE SPECIAL NORMS In the implementation of these present decisions the following directives shall be observed: I. The prescriptions of common law remain in force except in so far as this present Instruction may derogate therefrom. II. The faculties granted by this Instruction may not in any way be delegated. III. The term "superior general" also includes the abbot president of a monastic congregation. IV. In case the superior general is incapacitated or legitimately impeded from acting, these same faculties are granted to the one who is legitimately designated by the constitutions to replace him. V. In the case of nuns dedicated exclusively to con-templative life, special regulations shall be inserted into the constitutions and submitted for approval. Neverthe-less, the norms indicated in Numbers 22, 26, and 27 may be applied to them. VI. 1. If the special general chapter prescribed by the motu proprio Ecclesiae sanctae has already been held, it will belong to the superior general and his council, acting as a body, after due consideration of all the cir-cumstances, to decide if it is advisable to convoke a general chapter to decide the questions reserved to it or to await the next ordinary general chapter. 2. Should the superior general with his council, as above, deem it too difficult or even impossible to con-voke a new general chapter and if, at the same time, the ,Religious Formation VoLOME ~'28, "1969 371 implementation of the faculties reserved to the decision of the chapter is regarded as urgent for the welfare of the institute, the superior general and his council, as before, are hereby authorized to implement some or all of these faculties until the next general chapter, pro-vided that he,previously consult the other major supe-riors wxth their councils and obtain the consent~oL, at least two-thirds of their number. The major superiors m turn should make it a point to first consult their per-petually professed religious. In institutes having no provinces, the superior general must consult the per-petually professed and obtain the consent of two-thirds. VII. These directives, issued on an experimental basis, take effect as of the date of the promulgation of the present Instruction. Rome, January 6, on the Feast of the Epiphany of our Lord, in the year 1969. I. CARD ANTONIUTTI Prefect ~ ANTONIO MAURO Tit. Archbishop of Tagaste Secretary ÷ + + Religious Formation REVIEW FOR RELIGIO0$ EDWARD L. HESTON, C.S.C. Temporary Vows and Promises AS period of temporary vows in preparation for per-petual profession has become so much a part of our for-mation structures in contemporary religious life that the casual observer could easily be led to believe that such temporary vows have always been required and that they constitute one of the really essential elements of re-ligious life. Yet, temporary vows are of comparatively recent origin in canonical legislation. In fact, the first universally binding imposition of temporary vows was formulated in the Code of Canon Law promulgated in 1917. Almost every religious congregation still has among its members a certain number who went from the novi-tiate directly into perpetual profession. The prescription of temporary vows was dictated by prudence and long experience. Because of the evidently far-reaching consequences of perpetual profession it no longer seemed advisable for a candidate to make such profession without an opportunity to live the religious life in circumstances more realistic than those provided by the background of a strict novitiate program. With this dictate of prudence there could be no quarrel in principle. There was none for many decades. Even when questions arose in the wake of all the discussions opened up in the postconciliar atmosphere, the point at issue was not the probationary period itself but rather the concrete framework around which it would be built. These discussions eventually raised the question whether a period of living under temporary public re-ligious vows was the only or, even tbe best, wayZtoT.f)re- ,pare ~ov~perpetua~ profession. ~ome ot tlaese ~ou~ts have stemmed from psycliolog~cal problems ~n the minds of contemporary candidates for the religious life. Many # This article was originally prepared for La vie des commu-nautds religieuses and is reprinted here in its English form by the kind permission of the editor of La vie. + + ÷ Edward L. Hes-ton, C.S.C., procu-rator general of the Holy Cross Fathers, lives at Via Aure-lia 391; 00165 Rome, Italy. VOLUME 28, 1969 instinctively, and rightly, think of vow as synonymous with commitment, a consecration to God. No such com-mitment or consecration, they, reason, can be anything else than complete and permanent. Hence, the concept of a temporary vow really involves some kind of contra- ~%d.Tihcis tsuvicioeciwnncptolyi.n btyw thaes expressed sister who declared that being restricted to making vows for only one year when she really wanted to give herself to God forever meant that she could neither say what she meant nor mean what she said. It m~ght seem relatively easy to attempt to solve the difficulty by recourse to the traditional theological explanation that, as far as the commitment itself is con-cerned, the profession of temporary vows is as all-em-bracing and as lasting as that involved in perpetual pro-fession. The only difference is in the duration. Tempo-rary profession, one could point out, is so closely con-nected with perpetual profession that no candidate can be admitted to temporary vows without the intention of eventually proceeding to perpetual profession when the proper time comes. One could point out that the only difference between temporary profession and perpetual profession is that the commitment is essentially the same but that, in order to safeguard the best interests of both the candidate and the institute, canon law suspends some of the juridical effects of this profession before allowing it to become perpetually binding. But, well grounded as it is in sound theological and juridical principles, this explanation has not always clarified the matter in the minds of the interested parties. There is the further consideration that, as can be seen in many cases arising out of practical experience, it hap-pens not infrequently that young men and women come to the end of their novitiate formation and still do not feeL.either spiritually or psychologically "up" to the comniitinent involved in making vows, even-tempora~ ~O~as.~ Since, at the same time they gi~ encouraging signs of an authentic religious vocation, the question has been raised whether they cannot be given an opportunity to remain in the religious life without binding them-selves by vows in the strict sense of the term; and this situation has given to the problem a certain concrete actuality. A further consideration is that the increasing facility with which temporary vows can be dispensed has tended almost inevitably to weaken respect for this particular form of commitment, because there seems ,at times to be ahnost a_tr~end not. to take such vows~verylseriously. It was against this background i~f doubts and diffi-culties that suggestions gradually began to come to the fore that the probation which is the aim of temporary E. L. Hes~n, ~.$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS vows might possibly be achieved by some other means. It is generally admitted that a candidate can acquire an authentic and practical experience of religious life evvideend t hhoe uhgahs nthoet b~o.p~us~snib_ldil~i_btyty _-p ou~b_!_[ ilci_v_i~r_~negl_:tiignid.?eUr Sso v_o_wmse,_ p 9rot~-h~r form of binding commitment. The possibility of pre-paring for perpetual commitment without some form of temporary commitment is not given serious con-sideration. Could not a young religious make this commitment through a simple promise having the proper juridical sanction? Such questions as these provided the background for the provisions contained in the recent Instruction Renovationis causam on the renewal of religious formation issued by the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, January 6, 1969. Among the special experimental faculties requested by the Union of Superiors General and the International Union of Mothers General in December, 1967, was that of substituting a commitment by promise got tem-porary vows. The pertinent passages of the latest Instruc-tion of the Holy See read as follows: 34~I. The general chapter, by a two-thirds majority, may de-cide to replace tem.porary vows in the institute with some other kind of commlunent, as for example, a promise made to the institute. II. This commitment will be made at the end of the novitiate and for the duration of the probationary period extending to perpetual profession or to the sacred commitments which are its equivalent in certain institutes. The tempora_ry-commitmenC. may also be made for a briefer period-and ~ r~new~d at stated intervals, or even be followed by the making of tempo-rary vows. Thus, the general chapter of an institute may decide that, instead of temporary vows, a candidate may2bin~ himself to live.acgordiiag to the constitutions in prep~ira- ~i~)i~--for~the profession of perpetual vows. The question naturally arises: What is the difference between such a promise and a vow? In reply we can state that a vow is a special kind o~ promise. Every vow is a promise, but not every promise is a vow. A vow is defined by moral theologians as "a deliberate and free promise made to God of a possible and better good" (Noldin, Summa theologiae moralis, II, p. 195). A promise, in general, implies binding oneself to do or to omit something, such promise being accepted by the one to whom it is made and thus giving rise to a genuine obligation. The binding force underlying this obligation would be that of the virtue of fidelity. It is of the essence of a vow that it be made to God. A vow is an act of the virtue of religion, because it is an act intended to honor and to worship God. Hence + 4- 4- Vows/Promises VOLUME 28, 1969 + ÷ ÷ E. L. Heston, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 376 "vows" made, as the expression often has it, to the Blessed Mother or to some favorite saint, are not vows at all in the authentic sense of the term, unless the im-mediate term of the promise, for example, the Blessed Mother or some saint, is understood as ultimately having God for its object. Hence, the fulfillment of a vow entails a twofold moral goodness, that of the act itself and that of the vow, just as the violation of a vow implies a two-fold malice, one against the virtue involved and another against the virtue of religion. Under these aspects, the promise which could replace temporary profession is clearly different from a vow. First and foremost, su~h_~aspr~omi_se-~pu~!_d.not~bemade-to God but-~tp.-~tbe.-_.cong~_ega_t~on. Hence the~:m_~king.and _keeping of_~t_h_eTpromise would in no way-involve the virtue of religion. And just as there would not be a twofold moral ~goodness in the act commanded by this promise, so there would be no twofold moral malice in failure to keep it. In these considerations, we find the essential oldifferences between a temporary vow and a temporary promise. What form will such a promise take? Various possi-bilities present themselves. The basic principle would be that this promise should ~pproxi_~mate~S~asTcl6sely~as~ possibl~- the:- commitment of ten~porary_ professi0~;it-self;- It should contMn at its very.heart and core thee 0bli~a- ~ibi~to li~ acc-ording t~-ttie evangelical ~c6unsels in the' ma_~n_e_r _o~uth__ne_d ~y the constitutions of. the: institute~- This would provide an authentic experience of religious life by imposing basically the same kind of life as would result from the making of temporary religious vows. A simple "promise of service," or something similar, unless clearly defined in all its implications, would hardly seem adequate. The main objection would be that.-it-seems__to.shift~the ~mpha__s_i_s__~rom" God t6-6ttfe-~: Love of nexghbor i~-~f~o~rse, love of God, provided it be properly understood and practised, and vice versa. But it is extremely important to establish and maintain a God-centered approach to religious life. This is done by being convinced, first of all, of the special significance of the commitment, the special consecration, which flows from the act of profession either of a Vow or of a promise t o-live~as~ t hough-_~o~ ti a-d~ be-~O~-n rn~a~d~ This is w"--~-fi~ke-~'~vationis chusam, n. 35, I, states clearly: It is altogether proper that this temporary bond should have re[erence to the practice o~ the three evangelical counsels, in order to constitute a genuine preparation ~or perpetual pro-fession. It is o[ the utmost importance to safeguard unity of religious ~ormation. Although~ the-pr~i~i~eZb[ ~this--li~e is realized, definitively at ~r~etual'~i~ofes~i0ni it afih~-~ begin quite'a 16hg time before ~is pr~fes~ion~ - From these observations it should be clear that, as ]~ar as substance is concerned, a probationary period based on a promise is not fundament~ll~ different in effect from ofie based on temporary yows. The difference is more in the psychological than in the real objective order. But since the problems which called for a new solution were in that same order, it is natural that their solution should be found there also. Article 36 of the Instruction Renovationis causam stipulates that the general chapter shall determine the juridical effects and sanctions involved in the making of a promise instead of vows. Thus the chapter will have to decide, among others, such questions as active and passive voice, the mutual obligations of the candidate and the institute and so forth. This determination by the chapter is necessary because, since they will not have made public vows, r.eligious__bound by a temporary pr.omise, will. not be religious-in the canonical sense o~ the term. For the adoption o~ a promise instead of temporary vows, as for the adoption o~ some other faculties made possible by Renovationis causam, the approval of a two-thirds vote of the general chapter is required. One might ask just what is to be done in cases where a special or ordinary general chapter has already been held or in those where such a chapter is yet to be convoked. The Instruction provides that in such cases the superior gen-eral and his council, acting as a body, will decide col-legially if a special chapter is to be summoned for this specific purpose. If it is deemed impractical to convoke the chapter or to anticipate the chapter already scheduled for a later date, and if at the same time it is thought urgent to proceed along the lines mapped out by the Instruction, the superior general will consult all the major superiors and their respective councils. If at least two-thirds of their number are in agreement, he and his council, as before, may proceed to implement the dispensations from canon law outlined in the docu-ment. In institutes having no provinces, the superior general will consult all the perpetually professed re-ligious and if two-thirds of them concur, he may then proceed with his council as before to implement the provisions of the Instruction. The Instruction makes an observation which is of the utmost importance when it reminds all religious that, although the existing juridical norms are being notably eased, this should not be to the ultimate detriment of the fundamental religious values which both the former legislation and the new possibilities have endeavored to safeguard (see the second last paragraph of the Intro-duction of the Instruction). No one should get the er-÷ ÷ ÷ Vows ] Pi'omises VOLUME 28, 1969 377 roneous impression that these new provisions are in-tended in any way to contribute to a wat~ing down of the religious, life. Their purpose, on the contrary, is to make it possible to use new approaches to make reli-gious life more realistic and earnest and thus to enable it to make to the Church at large the contribution which is expected of it. It hardly needs to be pointed out that no one expects this particular experiment or even the others, to solve all the psychological and emotional problems confronting both those in formation and those responsible for adapt-ing formation structures to the mentality and particular needs of contemporary youth. But the door has been left open by the Holy See, and only experience will even-tually show what advantages or disadvantages may ulti-mately accrue to the religious life through the use of a different method of preparing for perpetual profession. 4- 4- 4- E. L. Heston, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER MARY ROGER, S.B.S. The Christian Aspect of Black Power In August, 1968, nearly two hundred of us black Sisters, representing approximately seventy-two religious orders in the United States and one in Africa, came to-gether for the first time in history at Mount Mercy College in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. Many of us were reluctant and fearful about this conference at the start, but needless indeed was this trepidatibn on our part, for we found it to be a bold and brave happening--a superbly strengthening and stimulating experience. It is in the light of this new-found strength and stimulation that I express my opinion of Black Power, an opinion formed with knowledge of the views of many black people. On a hot Mississippi day in 1966, the term Black Power was uttered from the depths of the soul of a man who really believed in it. The term has always been in our vocabulary, but under different connotations-- meanings, perhaps, not put so boldly and clearly. The Black Power of which we speak today, and which so many of our oppressors fear, is really black people tending to black business. Now we all know that to have or do business one must have a hold and share in the power structure and those elements which comprise af-fairs. For this to be realized, the attitude of the white business man must be opened to grasp every opportunity to inculcate the genius and good will of the black man into his business. The black man, in his turn, must seek out means to make himself an "in" member and move on to greater shares, such as management and owner-ship. The person who truly strives to eradicate educa-tional denial and economic exploitation is a real ad-vocate of Black Power. Black Power is the ability of black people to hold black conventions in order to better equip and strengthen ourselves to bring about more harmonious living be-tween the races. 4. 4. Sister Mary Ro-ger, S.B.S. teaches at Holy Providence School; 1663 Bris-tol Pike; Cornwells Heights, Penrisyl-vania 19020. VOLUME 28, 1969 + ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Roger, S.B.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Black Power is black pride, something which has long been overdue. Thank God we are getting it nowl (I can recall how ashamed of our "supercurly" hair, jet black skins, and deep rich voices some of us were. How could we feel otherwise when it was so apparent that straight-haired and white-skinned people could go anywhere and do anything?) It is because of this same black pride that black Americans are demanding black leaders for local affairs. It is the duty of white America to understand this and to move ahead in the direction of not only encouraging black people tending to black business, but of witnessing black people tending to white business. Un-til we reach that latter state we have not arrived at the full meaning of our topic. Standards do not have to be lowered for all of us, any more than they must be lowered for all of any other race. No race is an island of all things bad. We are all capable of being good or bad. Circumstances affect peo-ple. People must, in turn, understand and improve the circumstances. Every single facet of American life must be opened to us. No doors can be closed. That time has passed. We are here. We have been here. We have worked here. We are going to stay and prosper here. Black Power is the business of all of us, and since it is, various discrepancies are intolerable. For example, when a certain black man uttered non-flattering remarks, he was barred from the city; whereas a certain white man publicly de~ed our federal government and openly threatened us--and he ran for president of the United States. In another case, a black man was jailed for "in-flammatory" remarks; while a white man, guilty of similar fiery comments, was never imprisoned and has become the second head of our country. It would almost seem that some are punished and some rewarded for the same utterances, depending only on the color of their skin. "A house divided against itself cannot stand." Our country can no longer go on the way it has been going. No man has it in his power to tamper with justice. Because of the fear of Black Power many areas will be closed fast and long to us, but we must persist in our attainment of that which is rightfully ours. On many occasions persistence must become insistence. Few men give gladly and willingly of their riches and power-- especially to an oppressed people who have finally de-cided to be oppressed no longer. It is well for all of us to remember that there is room in the world for fortitude and daringness as well as patience and caution. To just sit and just wait after years and years of waiting should be judged as cow-ardice. Study your history, fellow Americans. Many wars have been fought in the name of justice. Even G9d saw fit to deal violently with Pharaoh and his people for the sake of justice to the Hebrews. Certainly we will not debate the meaning of Patrick Henry's famous words. He meant to fight and die for liberty. He was not con-tented to wait. He was tired. He had "had it." For this valor, .we, today, still admire, him. He is an American hero. If there are multiti~des of similar .cases, then, I ask you, can you expect less of others who are tired and have "had it"? If so, why? Black Power is being just about the proper places in history for all people. It is time that it be made known to the nation that Benjamin Banneker played a major part in the planning of the city of Washington as well as L'Enfant. It should be written that Columbus had a black ship pilot with him in 1492. It should be told that black men helped to find and found territories in the West. In 1512, a group of black people landed in Florida with Ponce de Leon in search for the "Fountain of Youth." Where are the publishers who will risk the news of the great role of Crispus Attucks at the Boston Massacre? Have they been born yet? Who will write of Nat Turner and Patrick Henry in the same tone and in the same text? Black Power is not a separate book of history--it is one complete and fair history book. It is a book that tells of the lofty as well as the menial tasks of all. We have all contributed to make America great. Though our roles were limited to that which many thought necessary to limit us to, and though we had no control over the violence which the great fathers of this country saw fit to administer in order to be free--we, the black people, have contributed the most to the building and survival of this nation. We have done the hard dull work that had to be done. No one else would have done it--and it had to be done. Black Power is a certain openmindedness concerning us. It is time we did away with the beliefs that we all dance well, sing well, love watermelon and can't live without our blues and jazz. It happens that some of us can't sing, can't dance, and hope we never see water-melon again. People are individuals--we can't set up an attitude and expect our one-track mind to be the answer for all nearly thirteen million of usl It just isn't that simple. To us should not be given the credit for violence--when we were well chained and branded by man, other violent acts were being committed. I am glad to inform many that we are the least contributors to violence in the country. The few of us who commit it really have such a late start and don't know how to really do violence--we are not equipped to do violence. 4. 4. Black P ow~ VOLUME 28, 1969 38! Too good a job of violence was done on us. We are too ¯ noble to be truly violent as a people. It is tragic that Amer-ica so readily answers to violence. Only a violent act seems to bring our government heads to a session called on our behalf. The big poverty programs really started after. Watts. In the mentality of stalwart Christians of old, we, ttxe Catholics of today, must do when something is to be done, must speak when something should be saidl We must make it our duty to right the unpardonable wrong, to fight the unrelenting foe; and when we are weary and our souls tend to waver--bear in mind: Only insofar as the black man has access to America will America have access to Godl Aware of this fact, let us resolve here and now, to be determined, or more de-termined, to right wrongs near us, so that--even though not nationalized nor immortalized--we shall all be able to say: Free at lastl Free at last! Thank God almighty, we're free at last! ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Roger, S.B$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOSEPH J. REIDY, M.D. The New Community and Personal Relationships For a number of years some directors of seminaries and superiors of religious communities have sought help from psychiatrists and persons in related professions. Most of the help has been in the diagnosis and treat-ment of individuals, the screening of candidates, and courses related to the pastoral duties of priests. In the fall of 1966 the superiors of a religious order asked me to take part in the training program of their postulants and novices. The superiors were concerned about the increasing discontent and emotional problems in their communities, particularly affecting the younger and apparently well-adjusted sisters. They thought that if changes were made in the ~training of these persons, some of the maladjustment might be prevented. I do not know if a psychoanalyst had ever worked with a group of religious in this way; but it was a new experience for me, and I was not certain that I knew the best way to do it. Since I believe that the service I performed differed from those offered by other professionals who have worked with such groups, it might be of interest to describe not only the results, but also the procedure.1 We discussed what we thought might be appropriate and finally agreed that I would simply meet regularly with the postulants who had just begun their religious training. I asked that these meetings not be presented 1 Several years ago a community in Mexico worked with several psychoanalysts in what was called "group psychoanalysis." From the accounts that were available to me, I was not able to decide just what was taking place and whether I could agree with all that was done. I feel it is important to have this description so that a fair judgment can be made about this procedure. + + + Dr. Joseph J. Reidy, M.D., writes from 1010 St. Paul Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. VOLUME 28, .1969 383 .L ~. Reidy, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~84 as classes or as group psychotherapy and that attendance at the meetings be voluntary. I decided to prepare no material for these meetings, to introduce no topics, and to talk with the sisters on whatever topics they wished. I hoped in this way they would talk about what interested and troubled them, not what their superiors or I thought were their con-cerns. They might have some difficulty in talking, and some important matters might not be mentioned; indeed, a possible outcome was that nothing of importance would be discussed. By this arrangement I hoped to avoid certain diffi-culties. One danger was ,that if the sessions were too much like classes, very little fedling might be expressed. On the other hand, if the participants experienced feelings too intensely, they might become so anxious that they would not wish to continue. This almost certainly would happen if I brought up sensitive topics for discussion without regard to their readiness. I did not make any suggestion about the superiors being present, and after the first two meetings the director of postulants did not come to the rest of the meetings. During the novitiate, the second year we worked together, the director of novices came only to the last meeting. I had asked the superiors not to tell me about the religious rule and practices of their order, nor about any of the candidates. I wished to learn, if possible, how these sisters experi-enced the life of the order. Also, I did not want to eval-uate or diagnose any individual, nor did I wish them to feel I was doing so. During the two years I worked with them I did not report the content of the meetings or information about the individual sisters to the supe-riors; and the sisters knew this. They also knew that at no time would I discuss any person with the superiors, and that when I was ready to make my recommendations to the superiors I would share them with the group. At our final meeting I discussed with the sisters the ideas contained in this paper. There were seventeen young women in the group. All except four had just finished high school, and of the four, three had had one year of college, and one had a graduate degree. Several had gone to high school together, but the others had not known each other before entering the order two months earlier. After a few meetings the large group was divided into two groups of eight and nine persons, and each group met with me for an hour on alternate weeks. The meetings lasted through the pos-tulant year, were interrupted when the sisters went home for the summer, and resumed when they returned as novices. During the two years, the meetings were a matter of lively interest to all, even though some looked on them with disfavor. It did not appear that they tried always to tell me about their "problems," one reason being that they were very enthusiastic about the new life and did not feel there were many problems. They wondered at times why they were meeting with me. Sometimes they agreed beforehand on things to talk about when the group met. But often they did not know what to say, and self-consciously filled the beginning of each meeting with everyday events, with little jokes and teasing of one another, and often asked me what to talk about. Some-times they forgot I was in the group, and found them-selves talking about things in a way which they later said was different than they did at other times and places. They could talk about things in these meetings which they could not talk about in their community recreation, because the meetings with me were not "gripe sessions." Outside the group they might not choose to talk to some sisters about certain things, yet when the group met they could talk about these things to these sisters. At the end of the two years many said that they felt they knew those who had been in their half of the group in a different way then they knew the others. Their feelings changed quite often. Some of the most enthusiastic members were the ones most opposed at times to continuing the meetings. But after some of the meetings they felt the talking had been of great help in understanding. A majority felt they were obliged to attend the meetings. I had said several times that any-one or all were free to come or stay away, and the superi-ors had said the same, but it was not until the middle of the second year they finally became convinced that their presence was not a matter of obligation. During one meeting they vigorously discussed whether it would be wrong if a person missed certain religious functions without a serious reason, and among these religious functions was the hearing of Sunday Mass. After a few persons had said they would not feel guilty of wrong-doing, the question of their obligation to attending these meetings came up. Up to that time attendance had been almost perfect; at once about half of the group stopped coming. I had hoped that if the groups were not given topics to discuss, they would talk about the important things. As I followed the meetings and thought about them at their conclusion, it seemed to me that one theme occurred more frequently than any other. It was a very broad theme; and, as they presented it, included many aspects of their life. I think of it as forming the main topic of this paper. ÷ ÷ ¯ New Community VOLUME 28, 1969 385 4, I. I. P,.i=I~, REVIEW' FOR RELIGIOUS 386 It was their living in community. They spoke of it in general and in theoretical terms, and also in respect to particular events and persons. They did not generally find fault with the community life as practiced in this order; they .accepted it and wished to learn to live it. They asked what it was and how do you live it. What do you do with certain feelings about your fellow religious? How do you handle---or, more often, how do you get rid of--angry, critical, or competitive feelings? They wanted to know how the life as a postulant and novice prepared them for the life they would lead after their training. At times some of them were uncomfortable in the physical closeness of group living, and some had less privacy than they had been accustomed to.~ It is not surprising that they asked these questions and many others; and I do not feel that their having these questions means that there is anything wrong with their adjustment to the life. But I am not sure they found the answers to these questions during their two years of training. Often I felt they were reluctant to go through the labor of trying to understand how and why they felt about certain things. They wanted ready-made solutions, definite answers, and ways to control and put in order their feelings. I knew that I could not in these limited contacts help them to find the answers to these problems and questions, but I did try to help them to see the usefulness of examining their feelings, of tolerating a certain amount of doubt, uncertainty, and anxiety, in the interest of acquiring more than a superficial knowledge of themselves. I would like to look at the topic of living in com-munity and then consider how it concerned these sisters. ~During the summer of 1967, when the postulants were at their homes, I met with another group, of about the same number, who were finishing their third year of training. It was a very brief series of meetings and I did not feel that I had an opportunity to know these sisters very well. But they presented many of the same prob-lems and questions about community life, In the summer of 1968, while I was finishing this paper, I began a series of meetings with a third group of sisters who had been in the order since 1961 and who were preparing to make their final vows. Before the meetings began, the sister provincial asked them for suggestions on topics to be considered. There were twenty-one sisters in this group and the seventeen who answered all suggested topics related to community living. Some of the suggestions were: "Working out and allowing others to work out emotional conflicts." "Dynamics of recreational conversation, for example, at the supper table after being involved in school all day." "The psychology involved in the superior/sister relationship in religious life--fears each might have .in her role, and 'help' to establish a wholesome relationship between the sisters and the superior." "Creativity in forms of group livingu conflict in group livingr" "How to deal with insecure individuals in the community, strong individuals, and so forth." "Communication and openness in group living." "Integrity in relationships." The consideration of community life involves on the one hand the stability and healthof "the environment, and on the other, the intrapsychic conflicts and adaptations of the individual. As to the first, we want to know if the community life affords the opportunity for healthy growth and adjustment. Is it an enviromnent in which a sister can given enthusiastic and dedicated service, or is living in a particular community used as an excuse for mediocrity and avoidance of responsibility? Is .the living together an intolerable stress? I knew that the order was seriously examining these issues and had made many changes in recent years. The superiors were aware of the. well-known problems of religious life, for example, those about authority, and were looking for ways to remedy the defects they had found. In the second year of our work the order held a general chapter for the pur-pose of examining the entire philosophy and structure of the order. I was asked to comment on position papers they had prepared for the order's general chapter, so I knew of their concern that the environment be healthy. The trainees were in the midst of the changes taking place in the order. The changes may have taken from some older sisters a security and stability, and made their adjustment difficult. I do not think it affected these sisters in this way; for one thing, they were not "used to" the thing~ that were changed or discarded. They were excited about the changes, pleased that they were informed of the discussions, and that their opinions were sought. They jokingly and, I thought, proudly referred to them-selves as "guinea pigs." Yet at times they said that the uncertainty about future changes made them feel moody and irritable. What troubled them was the task of getting along with one another--"living in community"--as they called it. It is, I think, the problem of any person living in a group. There are certain features of this group which make it different from other groups and which might change the form and intensity of the usual ga'oup problems. Among other things, they are together almost all of the time; at least during the formation years, their life is exclusively with the persons of the same sex, and it is lived for religious motives. Today the Church is thought of as the "People of God" and the "fellowship of believers." The personal rather than the legalistic aspect of religious worship is emphasized and the religious commitment is to one another arid to the world, rather than to rules and observances of com-mon life. Here is a hypothetical situation, pieced together from 'many examples given during the two years. One sister said that she cannot get along with another sister. She ÷ '4. ]. ]. Reidy, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 388 told this to her confessor and he said she should pray for the necessary grace. This still did not solve the problem. In the old days it might have been more easily solved. She could pray for her sister and keep the relationship distant or superficial. Today the spirit of living in com-munity discourages an individualistic, withdrawn piety. There is more emphasis placed on the love for one's neighbor as the manifestation of the love for God. Why a community? They thought of answers to this. They did not feel they came together because it was more efficient and economical, or a better way to serve God than if they had not joined a community. In the first few months I occasionally heard them speak of two groups of people--themselves and those out in the world. But later, and possibly because the training had been modified to have them less shut off from the "world," I no longer heard this distinction. As I listened to them, and unavoidably added my own interpretation to what they said, I felt they were tending to see, or were being instructed to think of, their relationship to one another as the expression and substance of their reli-gious life. Since they were taking seriously the concept of the Church as the "People of God" and the "fellowship of believers," it is not surprising they had the concern about personal relationships. One word I heard very frequently was "openness." This seems to be the desired characteristic of the sister of today. She has to be involved with the world, not iso-lated in her cloister as in the past. To be involved she has to be "open" with her fellow religious and with all others. This openness will lead to what some of today's spiritual writers, using terms oi: the existentialists, call "authentic encounters." This openness will lead to intimacy with one's fellows. Some of the sisters felt un-certain what this openness was, what constituted an "authentic encounter," and were uncertain that their relationships met these conditions. They felt they must be "open," yet hesitated to talk about personal concerns in the group~not just in our group, for they had the same feelings in other situations. They were reluctant to speak of anything that reflected their problems in ad-justment, for fear of hurting some other sister's adjust-ment. They should be charitable and not criticize others. One sister said that any disagreement in the Church should not be publicized, because it would confuse and upset people. What they were expressing is an oversimplified idea of personal relationships. It expects instant empathy and mutuality, not considering that genuine affection is the work of many years. An environment that expected this perfection would be unhealthy and unrealistic. Love of one's neighbor, sincerity and frankness in communica-tion with him, result from many "encounters," not all of them pleasant and exciting. And the relationship is built on respect for the independence of the other person. For each person the concepts of openness and intimacy have reference to important events in his life history. The important events in each person's past refer emotionally, and largely unconsciously, to conflicts over dependence and independence, passivity and activity, love and hate, and to many other conflicts from the earliest days of the child's relationship to its mother, through all of the very important phases of development. This is the intrapsychic aspect of the adjustment to com-munity living and the sister brings to her relationships with others in the community the solutions and adjust-ments, good and bad, she has made at other times and with other people. She is often able to change her ways of relating to people and to increase her capacity for love, but her past is always to be taken into account. We should be sure what we mean when we speak of openness, for some very serious pathology in personal relationships can pass for "openness." There are persons who make quick and easy contact with.almost everyone, but some of them are incapable of any depth, of any giving in the relationship. Others have never been able to see themselves as self-sufficient persons, separate in-dividtzals, and they constantly seek "encounters" for the purpose of attaching themselves to others. Another group of persons has defective control of impulses and con-stantly discharges aggressive and libidinal energies in actions. The activity and "encounters'" may be thought of as doing "God's work," and may be quite useful, but they can also mean that the person finds intolerable any waiting, postponement, uncertainty, or anxiety. This does not include all the ways that "openness" could be pathological. In the past, persons with certain personality disorders were attracted to religious life--dependent persons, obsessive-compulsive persons, withdrawn and schizoid persons. The superiors came to know this and tried to exclude these persons. It would be unfortunate if the changes in religious life .resulted in attracting another group of maladjusted persons, and it would be a mistake to assume that religious training could over-come such serious pathology. Just as the person who trusts no one is thought to ¯ have a problem, so does the person who trusts and is "open" to everyone. While it is at the very basis Of religion, as we understand it today, to love our fellow humans, the normal girl who comes to the convent in the late phases of her adolescence brings with her conflicts about per-sonal relationships and certain defenses against too sudden I. I. Reidy~ M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 390 or too much intimacy. It is a normal part of her develop-ment, and it sometimes makes it difficult for her to know how she is to be "open." I should mention here that the fact that these sisters were involved with the turmoil that is part of all of the phases of adolescence is an im-portant consideratibn in the training program, but one ¯ that requires a separate paper. Certain defenses are necessary to our narcissism and self-esteem. Some we need to help us control our aggres-sive and sexual impulses, to enable us to live in a group. Much of what we call "good manners" serves these func-tions, and our agreeable response to the genuinely polite and considerate person is due to the recognition that he has treated us with respect. Denying or overlooking facts that would lower our self-esteem are other examples of defenses. Other persons must respect our defenses and not intrusively push them aside. These sisters who have chosen to give up certain gratifications of material and sexual pleasure, and who live in circumstances that often require great giving of themselves, deserve rela-tionships that are respecting of their personal integrity. In times past, the conduct of persons living in religious communities was prescribed by many rules and customs which could easily serve as defenses against intimacy. Religious could not enter one another's rooms, were bound by rules of silence, and "particular friendships" were discouraged. They did many things together-- praying, eating, recreating, working--but many of these activities were formalized, and I would imagine that members of a community could do many things together with only superficial communication with one another. I am not sure this was always neurotic, and it was a way of life which could lead to quite healthy personality development. But many of the religious consider that way of life as unsuitable for today's world. The old ways, often too much of a defense against intimacy, are gone or going, and we need to work out adequate replace-ments. One of the things we should look for in the replacements is how they help each person relate to others in the community in the way and at the pace she is capable of. During the middle of the postulant year, the sisters had an experience which illustrates the problems in-volved in personal relationships. In groups of two or three, for a period of six weeks, they worked as teacher helpers in public schools in the slum areas. They were overwhelmed by the intense relationships which these deprived children demanded from them. Some of the sisters were very generous and experienced a good deal of pain when they realized they could not give enough to the children, and at times were frightened when the response to their giving was the demand for an even closer, more exclusive relationship. A few of the sisters sought to control the children's bid for affection by keeping them at a distance and being effective dis-ciplinarians. They demanded of the sisters an intensity o~ relationship, an "openness," if you will, which the sisters were not prepared to give. We might wonder how many people could give in this way, and how realis-tic were the expectations of the children. The defenses against too sudden or too intense inti-macy may explain why some subjects were never men-tioned at our meetings. If the group was open, it did not always show it at these meetings. At the end of the two years, some said that if my purpose had been to help them communicate better, I had not succeeded. There are some things most people hesitate to talk about freely, even to a confessor or a psychiatrist who is not part of their daily life. I do not think that because certain sub-jects were not discussed that these sisters were inhibited in any abnormal way. Sexual topics, feelings about certain spiritual matters such as prayer and vocation, and reli-gious belief itself, came up not at all, or only in very limited ways. After one meeting, one sister asked me if she should mention the subject of homosexuality, since she felt it was important. I agreed that it was im-portant and said that I had no objection to our discussing it, but that it was really up to her and to the group. At the very last meeting she asked: "What do you tell a friend who you know had a homosexual problem?" None of the group seemed inclined to discuss this, so I said only that if she .felt able to talk to her friend about it, she should advise her to see a psychiatrist. Each one has defenses against relationships becoming too intense. During one of our meetings, three of the sisters described the difficult times they had communicat-ing with and feeling close to their mothers, who wanted, so the girls thought, to keep them dependent. They felt they had to be careful what they talked about to their mothers, and there were many personal things they never discussed with them. This astonished some of the others in the group, who said that they were "pals" with their mothers and had no difficulty talking with them. The sisters felt that the spirit of the group was im-portant, and they were right, as they were right about the importance of loving each other. But the trouble again was in the application of the idea. The grand-parents of one sister died within a few days of each other, and this sister was very close to her grandparents. As I heard of the responses of her fellow religious, I thought they helped her mourn her loss in a way that was loving and realistic and dignified. This was one example of the ÷ ÷ New Community VOLUME 28, ~.969 391 4, 4, ]. ]. Reidy, M.D. spirit of the group. But sometimes a sister felt that the way another sister performed her duties, to take another example, put an unfair burden on the others, and so hurt the spirit of the community. Should you be "open" with the person and tell her about her fault and how it was hurting the community? I gather that some tried this and their comments were not always welcome. There was also the idea that group living meant that the group should not be divided on any issue or activity. They would have rejected the term "conformity," and felt they were too liberal or independent .to be conform-ists, but it may be difficult sometimes to tell the dif-ference between consensus and conformity. What I wish to emphasize was that these sisters were taught and believed that their community life was one of the most important manifestations of their religious state, and they wished to be good religious. But they found difficulty in putting into practice the ideals of community living, as expressed in the love of one's neighbor. They needed help in understanding that personal relationships are very complex, and that open-ness and intimacy are not quickly and easily attained. Yet I did feel that the meetings in some way "opened up" things. The sisters regularly told me how, for the day or two after each meeting, they had discussions among themselves of its contents. After one meeting when the group worked hard and with much feeling on some problems of their relationships to each other, they felt that their mood had changed, and their anxiety lessened, and they warmly thanked me. During the course of the two years, four of the group began individual psychotherapy. I found out later that they told the di-rector of novices that the group meetings made them aware they needed help, but they felt they could not talk about their difficulties in the group. Regarding recommendations to the superiors about the training program, I felt that there was little I could say about the environment, because they were making it a healthy one. The impact of the experiments in com-munity life will have effects on the idea and forms of community, and these must continue to be observed. But I felt that in their training, in ways that would differ for different communities and individuals, the sisters could be made more aware of the complexity of human relationships. There is a middle course between the old cautions against close personal relationships and the expectation of instant and universal intimacy. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 392 JOHN R. SHEETS, S.J. The Four Moments of Prayer The religious life today presents many different faces to one who is trying to assess its mood, vitality, and di-rection. Sometimes we wonder how so many different (often contradictory) qualities can come under the same common denominator which we call the religious life. It is like watching the weather report on television. We see varying types of weather throughout the whole country, currents of air moving in different directions, high pressure in one part, low in another, rain in one place, snow in another, and sunshine in another. This suggests the picture of the various trends in the religious life at present, or for that matter in the whole Church. It would be too ambitious a project to try to draw the weather map of the religious life. Like the weather-man we would very likely be wrong in many of our judgments. We would like to single out only one aspect of the religious life, the life of prayer. Even here we find many conflicting currents. In fact the life of prayer is a small scale model of the whole weather map with the various currents running through the religious life. There is, on the one hand, great interest in prayer. This is very often manifest in the careful attention which many congregations are. giving to the subject of prayer in preparation for chapter meetings. On the other hand, we have to confess that very often more time is spent in talking about prayer than in pray-ing. As in the case of so many other religious values, discussion of the value has become a substitute for the value itself. Even in the discussion of prayer there is often the feeling that one needs prayer if he is to be a good religious, while without prayer he is a religious, though perhaps not outstanding for his piety. It is extremely important for us to recapture once again the New Testa-ment mentality concerning prayer. It is simply this: to be J. R. Sheets, s.J., teaches in the De-partment of The-ology; Marquette University; Mil-waukee, Wisconsin 53233. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ ~. R. Sheets, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS a Christian in the true sense of the term one must pray. Prayer is not simply an accessory to Christian life, some-thing superadded to make a better Christian out of a good one. A Christian is one who prays. This is the lesson which is brought home in every book of the New Testament. It is not something mentioned in passing. It is the milieu of Christian life as we find it described there. We have to question the seriousness with which we live our Christianity .if one of the primary signs of our Onion with the Father in Christ is not present, namely, our response to this new fellowship through prayer. There are basically two signs which manifest the nature of the new fellowship in grace. They are signs which manifest the new orientation which we have to God and to our fellowman. The new orientation to God is shown in our filial attitude, because we are sons with the Son and can say, "Abbal Father." Practically this is Shown in our life of worship and of prayer. The new relationship which we have to others is shown through charity: "By this love you have for one another, everyone will know that you are my disciples" (Jn 13:35). If' these signs are not there, then our Christian life is like that of a retarded child, an unfortunate affliction in any family, but especially in the family of God. There are retarded Christians as there are retarded human beings. We have to realize that prayer flows from the very nature of .the fellowship we have with Christ, the Father, and with one another, through grace. It is not something extra. As we have said, the New Testament leaves no ambiguity on that score. For example, we see Christ praying and teaching his disciples to pray; th~ Christian community is a prayerful community; through-out his Letters Paul speaks of his own prayer and exhorts the Christian communities to persevering prayer; the book of Revelation shows the whole of creation, with the Church at the center, united in praising God and the Lamb. There is a great need to recapture the New Testa-ment notion of prayer and to see how it is integral to the life of the Christian. What was called the "Death of God" was simply the surfacing of the death of faith. In turn the death of faith has its roots in many cases in the neglect of prayer. It should be no surprise if we cannot see when all of the lights are turned out in a city or in a room. Again, it should be no surprise that there is a power failure in our faith and in our love if there is no effort to draw light and strength from God through prayer. Christian prayer draws into conscious focus the whole of our Christian life. In our ordinary day-to-day life it is probably true to say that everything enters into the power we have to speak---our physical, mental, and social life. It we are weak, our words have little strength; it we have no ideas, our words have little meaning; if we are not interested in communicating to another, our words are movements of air. The same is true of our life of prayer. Everything in our lives enters into it. Like the point in the hourglass, everything from our life must pass through it into our prayer. It brings into focus the relationship we have to God and also to our fellowman. I[ God is remote and impersonal, then there will be no prayer. If God is dead, then prayer is dead. Similarly, if our relationship to others is unchristian, then our prayer will be like that described by the king in Hamlet: "My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: words without thoughts never to heaven gg-" The First Moment of Christian Prayer There are ~undamentally four "moments" to Christian prayer: listening, seeing, responding, and translating what one has heard and seen into one's life. We are not using the word "moment" here in its specifically tem-poral sense. Rather it is used to describe the movement of Christian prayer, which like the movements of a symphony make one organic whole. We would like to comment on each o£ these moments o~ prayer, keep-ing in mind that, although there is a certain logical sequence in which one ~ollows from the other, in prac-tice they cannot be separated or schematized in an artificial manner. First and foremost Christian prayer is listening. There is probably no other expression which so aptly describes God's relationship to us and ours to Him. It is based, like other expressions which we use to describe God's relationships to man,.on man's relationships to other men. It will be helpful to comment on this. In human listening there are always three elements forming something of a triangular relationship: the speaker, the word, and the one listening. Where all three aspects are present there is communication through the word. If one or the other is absent, there is no communication. We also know that there are different levels of speaking and listening. They are levels going from communication o~ information about things or about oneself to the deepest level, that of communication o~ oneself through words. Each level of communication corresponds to a level of giving on the part of the speaker and a level of receiving on the part of the one listening. The range of giving on the part of the speaker goes from giving information, all the way to giving himself. The range of receiving for the listener is~ the same. On his ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28, ~-969 " 395 ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. R. Shee~s, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 396 part there are degrees of openness ranging from an openness to information to an openness for communion with another person. This relationship of speaker to listener very aptly describes God's relationship to man. It is not possible to develop this idea at length. If we did, we would see that it involves the whole mystery of revelation, culmi-nating in the mystery of the Incarnation and redemp-tion. God's words are really actions. They are the form or shape which His actions take when they are addressed to man's heart through his power to hear: "The word that goes from my mouth does not return to me empty, without carrying out my will and succeeding in what it was sent to do" (Is 55:11). Concretely Christian prayer is listening to God's word in Scripture. It means opening oneself to God's will to communicate Himself through His word. What we could call the "mental shape" of His will for us is com-municated to us in Scripture. The Scripture is the privileged locus of God's word. It will be helpful if we can understand more fully the mysterious power that the word of God in Scripture has for us. The mystery of the power of the prophetic word is a mystery of how the power and wisdom of God can be articulated in human words in such a way that the words themselves mediate this power and wisdom. There is a power to these words which transcends their material and time-conditioned aspect. This power is not the same that belongs to the artist's creation. His work also transcends to some extent the limitations of time and space and appeals to something perennial in human nature. He evokes hidden reso-nances with the human spirit which are timeless because they belong to the very nature of the human spirit. But the power of the word of God in Scripture is very different. We find there something analogous to what takes place in the Incarnation. In this mystery the Word in His power overspills and overflows His flesh which embodies this mystery. The artistic creation has a certain power for us because we share in a common humanity and common experiences with the artist. But the power of God's word, and in a special way, the power of Christ's word, comes from the fact that it belongs to the mystery of life for which we were made, a sharing in the life of the Son. If we are related to the artist's word and work through a common humanity, we are much more intimately related to the word and work of God because we were made for the purpose of sharing this mystery: "To have what must die taken up into life--this is the purpose for which God made us, and he has given us the pledge of the Spirit" (2 Cor 5:5). We were not made to share a common humanity but to share that for which a common humanity provides the foundation--a sharing in the life of the Son. The word of God in Scripture is, then, closely re-lated to the mystery of our own identity. It is no stranger to us. It is the mental shape which God's will takes because of His intention to share with us His life. The words of Scripture make up our "name." If we re-call, for the Jew the name declares the meaning of the person. The words of Scripture declare the meaning of man in his relationship to God. For this reason the word of God is described as enveloped with a mysterious power which reaches right to our heart: "The word of God is something alive and active: it cuts like any double-edge sword but more finely: it can slip through the place where the soul is divided from the spirit, or joints from the marrow; it can judge the secret emotions and thoughts. No created thing can hide from him; every-thing is uncovered and open. to the eyes of the one to whom we must give account of ourselves" (Hb 4:12-5). The prayer of the Jew is also a listening to the word of God. It differs from Christian prayer in the same way that listening to a musical note differs from listening to the chord which embodies and fulfills the note. The Jewish attitude is seen in the response of Samuel when the Lord called him: "Yahweh came and stood by, calling as he had done before, 'Samuel, Samuel.' Samuel answered, 'Speak, Yahweh, your servant is listening' " (1 S 3:10-1). The Christian response, however, is typi-fied by Paul's words to Christ when He appeared to him on the road to Damascus: "What am I to do, Lord?" (Acts 22:10). Christian prayer is listening to the word of God given to us in Christ. The Christian listens to the words of the Old Testament only insofar as they are avenues directed to their fulfillment in the Word-made-flesh. For this reason, in the vision in which St. John sees Christ clothed as the High Priest, he describes the sword of God's word coming from the mouth of Christ: "In his right hand he was holding seven stars, out of his mouth came a sharp sword, double-edged, and his face was like the sun shining with all its force" (Rv 1 : 16). As we mentioned, there are different levels of speak-ing to which there correspond different levels of listen-ing. At the most profound level there is a communica-tion of self through the word. At this level words become the expression not of knowledge but of love. On the listening side, there must not only be a hea~ing but a true listening whicl~ comes from love. There must be a loving-listening which corresponds to love-speaking. We all l(now that we listen to the degree that we realize what is said is important for us. A student ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer VOLUME 28, 1969 397 ÷ ÷ 4, ]. ~{. Sheets, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 398 listens at different levels to what the teacher says. If he thinks something is going to be asked on an exami-nation, he will listen more carefully. We listen to those things which involve us personally. If someone is talk-ing about us, we are all ears. If someone is talking to us, our attention can be very superficial. Theoretically we perhaps realize the importance God's words for us. But practically speaking they are like projectiles which hit a hard surface and then ric-ochet off in the distance. While it is true that our very identity, our very purpose for being, is involved in the words of God and that these words are written about me and for me and to me, in practice they simply are not that meaningful. A partial reason for this is that the word of God is not always easy to interpret. But this is not the main rea-son. The main reason lies deeper than this. It lies in the intention of the speaker and in the heart of the listener, not in the quality of the word which is spoken. The speaker's intention is to transform the listener. This means that the listener will have to give up his ways which are self-centered and become open to the ways of God. There is a basic unwillingness in the heart man to listen to a word which asks him to center his life on God and to center all Other things on the kingdom: "Set your hearts on his kingdom first and on his right-eousness, and all these other things will be given you as well" (Mr 6: This means that God's word is imperative, centering, transforming, judging, quickening. It is not easy for man to listen to such a word. His listening has to be obediential. He knows that his own life is a response to the word of God. His own words are not above the word of God. But his whole life, not only his words, lie under the judgment of the word of God. It is His word which interprets us, not our word which interprets Him. With the growing interest in the study of Scrip-ture, there is the danger that under the critics' scissors the two-edged sword of God's word begins to look like Don Quixote's limp and battered lance. Without realiz-ing it, one can develop the attitude that the word God is like any other word, simply grist for the critics' mill. We have to remind ourselves constantly that we are dealing not simply with the inspiring words of men, but the inspired words of God. Let us draw out some further implications involved in listening. In order to listen our whole being must be attuned. This means that asceticism is necessary if there is to be any real listening which is sustained in diffi-cult circumstances over a period of time. This is true in any form of listening. If one wants to listen to a lecture, or music, or poetry, there has to be an asceticism of imagination, in fact of all our faculties. Hearing is not simply a power which belongs to one faculty. The whole body listens. This is especially true where the sounds are delicate and gentle and are competing with the clamor of other sounds. Asceticism is really a refining of our power to hear the word of God, the most delicate of all sonnds, in a world filled with a thousand other sounds, most of them more flattering to our ears than the simple and chaste word of God. In order to hear the sounds of silence there must be a certain inner disposition. There must be silence. We often confuse silence with not speaking. Rather it is the atmosphere for speaking because it is the atmosphere for listening. Every poet, artist, anyone who listens to the whisperings of beauty at the heart of reality needs the atmosphere of silence to listen. Similarly, and much more, there must be the asceticism of silence for the one who is opening himself to listen to God's word. This sounds very uncontemporary to our ears today, even to many religious. Perhaps it is part of the reaction which comes from having things imposed from the out-side. For many silence simply has been an external re-striction on their power to speak, rather than an in-ternal atmosphere to listen. Similarly, many identify speaking with communication. Where there is a great deal of talk, there must be a great deal said. ~Ve know, however, that silence does not mean a lack of com-munication, nor does speaking mean communication. It is a favorite theme of the theater of the absurd that there is a real failure to communicate even though the media of communication are multiplied past all imagination. In fact, communication simply by multipli-cation of words has become a source of alienation, not of union. There is really not enough silence to listen. T. S. Eliot has touched upon this theme in one of his poems: The endless cycle of idea and action, Endless invention, endless experiment, Brings knowledge of motion, but not o[ stillness; Knowledge of speech, but not of silence; Knowledge of words, and ignorance of the Word --from The Rock The artist and the poet do not need to learn silence as one learns a lesson. They realize instinctively that silence is the atmosphere for receptivity. That is what Dag Hammarskj61d describes in his diary when he speaks of silence: "To preserve the silence within--amid all the noise. To remain open and quiet, a moist hu-mus in the fertile darkness where the rain falls and the grain ripens--no matter how many tramp across the VOLUME 28, 1969 399 J. R. Sheets, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS parade ground in whirling dust under the arid sky" (Markings, p. 83). Again, Gerard Manley Hopkins. speaks of silence as singing to him, beating upon his ear, piping to him, evoking from him both surrender and eloquence: Elected Silence, sing to me And beat upon my whorled ear, Pipe me to pastuTes still and be The music that I care to hear. Shape nothing, lips; be lovely-dumb: It is the shut, the curfew sent From there where all surrenders come Which only makes you eloquent. The first moment, then, of Christian prayer is listen-ing. It requires an atmosphere in which the word of God can be heard. There is a fatal instinct in all of us to reduce the word of God to the words of men, as well as to reduce the presence of God and the presence of Christ to the presence of men. There is the tendency to confuse our own dreaming and fancies with that listen-ing which comes from the Spirit of Son. This kind of listening is not always easy. It has little fiction, but much hope; little sentiment, but much love; little that is flattering, but much that is fulfilling. The Second Moment of Christian Prayer Christian prayer is also seeing. It is necessary not only to listen to the word of God; we must also see the word of God made flesh. The total mystery of God and the manner in which man is enveloped in that mystery is deployed in such a way as to grasp us not only through our power to hear but also through our power to see, while at the same time it works inaudibly and invisibly on our hearts through g~ace. By "seeing" we mean the whole range of knowing activity which can be described as various levels of seeing: the seeing which belongs to the eyes of the mind, that which be-longs to our imagination and memory, and that which belongs to our physical sight. As seeing goes from what is purely physical reflection to mental reflection it be-comes less and less passive and more and more an ac-tivity involving the concentration of all of the powers of the person. For prayer to be meaningful there must be a seeing on every level. The object must impress it-self on our whole being so that our whole world is stamped with its image. We can repeat the words of Teilhard de Chardin here to emphasize the importance o~ seeing: "Seeing. We might say that the whole of life lies in that verb--if not nltimately, at least essentially. To see or to perish is the very condition laid upon everything that makes up the universe, by reason of the mysterious gift of existence. And this, in superior measure, is man's condition" (Phenomenon of Man, Harper Torchbooks, p. 31). We are faced with an anomalous situation today. There is much emphasis on personalism and also on sacramentalism. But there is at the same time a real inner sacramental vacuum because the truths of faith do not find a sacramental stronghold in the memory and the imagination. Perhaps there is no greater neces-sity today than to sacramentalize the memory and imagination. This is the world in which men of flesh and blood live and move and have their being. It is the world which is co-natural to him, without which ideas and ideals are in peril of dying for lack of oxy-gen. If a person is to enter into the total mystery of Christ it cannot be done merely intellectually. The mystery has to grasp his image world. This brings out the necessity for good Christian art. Even more it brings out the necessity for those sense expressions of Christian faith which is to the faith what the body is to the soul. Man lives in his body, in his images. Ideas do not move a person unless they are transmitted through and rooted in images. Theoretically man might live his faith only through faith perception. Practically speaking unless his faith vision has its counterpart in the vision that belongs to his senses it will wither and die. It.is not possible to enter into this in great detail be-cause of the limitations of space. It seems that we are at present going through one of those movements which strangely enough emerge at different periods of history. It is basically iconoclastic in the literal sense of the term. The word means "image-breaker." It is applied to a particular movement in the eighth century in the Greek Church which was directed against the veneration of icons. In a wider sense it is applied to those move-ments which tend to spiritualize Christianity to the point where the bodily aspect of Christianity is ne-glected. It shows itself in rejection of images, such as statues or pictures, in the elimination of external gestures such as kneeling, genuflecting, in the abolition of those devotions in which Christian faith has in-carnated itself, or in a false mysticism characterized by a flight from man's real world. All we can do here is point out the danger, a danger which has become for many a fact. The liturgical movement can to some extent in-carnate man's faith in his sense world. This has not as yet happened, however. At present the faith of many Christians is floundering because their image world has become desacramentalized, and as yet nothing has been given to replace his traditional images. Like Adam ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer VOLUME 28, 1969 401 ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. R. Sheets, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 40~) who, before the creation of Eve, could find no helpmate suitable for him, Christian faith is searching for its help-mate in the world of images. When Christian faith finds its world of images, it can also exclaim, as did Adam: "This at last is bone from my bones, and flesh from my flesh" (Gn 2:23). Practically speaking it is through our contemplation of Christ in the Gospels that we begin to create the image of Christ in the chaos of our sense world. It is through our prayer that the words "Let there be light" are extended not only to the darkness of our minds but also to the darkness of imagination and memory. The importance of seeing is a central theme in the writings of St. John. He is called the eagle. In ancient belief the eagle was consi~lered to have special power to see. He could soar close to the sun without becoming blinded by the rays of light. St. John did in fact see, both with the eyes of the faith and the eyes of his senses. His seeing is the source of his Gospel: "Something which has existed since the beginning, that we have heard, and we have seen with our own eyes; that we have watched and touched with our hands: the Word, who is life-- this is our subject. That life was made visible: we saw it and we are giving our testimony, telling you of the eternal life which was with the Father and has been made visible tO us. What we have seen and heard we are telling you so that you too may be in union with us, as we are in union with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ" (1 Jn 1:1-4). These words express the sense of the words spoken to the man whom Jesus cured of his blindness, when the man asked about the mean-ing of faith in the Son of Man. Jesus told him: '~You are looking at him; he is speaking to you" (Jn 9:37). We sometimes hear today that we do not need to pray because our action is our prayer. We do not need to contemplate Christ in Himself because we se~ Him in others. If our action is' our prayer and our contempla-tion of others really is our contemplation of Christ, this can come only because we take the time to pray formally. Unless there is formal prayer there is the danger of hear-ing only the echo of our own voice and seeing only the reflection of our own image in all that we do, while we are under the tragic illusion that it is Christ's voice and His image. The Third Moment of Christian Prayer The third moment of Christian prayer is the response. This takes various forms. It varies according to our many faceted response to the one fundamental truth: the love of the Father shown to us in the gift of His Son. "With thisgift how can he fail to lavish upon us all he has to give?" (Rm 8:32). Among the many forms which the response can take are tho~e of gratitude, praise, sorrow, adoration, and petition. There is first of all the response of grati-tude. This is the fundamental disposition of the Christian. It is one of the most common forms of prayer in the Letters of St.Paul. He begins all of his Letters with a prayer of thanks and frequently stresses the necessity of gratitude in prayer (1 Cor 14:17; 2 Cot 1:11; 4:15; 9:11-2). It would not be too much to say that to the extent that one is Christian he is also grateful. To be consciously Christian means that one is aware of the difference that the Incarnation and redemption have made in our lives. When one is conscious of the great deeds of God for our salvation the response will be praise. The Christian, like the Jew, praises God not for His essential char-acteristics (at least not directly), but for what He has done for man in His saving deeds. We only learn what God is through what He has done. We praise God chiefly for what He has done for us in Christ. We find many examples of this prayer of praise for God's wondrous deeds in Scripture: the Psalms, the hymns victory scattered throughout the Old Testament, the Magnificat of Mary, the doxologies of Paul, and the hymns in the Book of Revelation. Where there is consciousness of the failure to respond in the past, then our present response takes the form of sorrow. We have failed to listen to the word. The light of our eye has become darkness. We have become deaf and blind, as Isaiah says: "You have seen many things but not observed them; your ears are open but you do not hear" (Is 42:20). For this reason Christian prayer will always take the form of sorrow. As creature before his Creator the Christian will adore. The prayer of adoration is the prayer of Christian maturity. It comes only when one

Issue 2.3 of the Review for Religious, 1943. ; A.-M. D. G. for Religious MAY 15, 1943 Paternal Governm~eh÷ . . . ; . . J~hn C.~Ford The Mother of God . - . . AIoydus C. Kemper Cell'Technlque of Catholic Act,on . '."Albert S. Foley Thb Seal of Confession , = Edwin F. Healy Summary on Spiri÷u&l Direc'÷ion . The Edffo.rs; Book Revlew~, Ques÷io. ns Answered Decisions of the Holy See RIEVI.I::W FOR RI::LIGIOUS ¯ VOLUME II MAY 15, 1943 NUMBER 3 CONTENT.S PATERNAL GO~rERNMENT AND FILIAL CONFIDENCE °IN SUPERIORSmJohn C. Ford, S.J. 146 THE MOTHER OF GOD~A. loysius C. Kemper, S.J . 15'; THE CELL TECHNIQUE OF SPECIALIZED CATHOLIC ACTION-- Albert S. Foley, S.3 . 164 DIVINE' PROVIDENCE AND RELIGIOUS INSTITUTES . 175 THE SEAL OF CONFESSION-~Edwin F. Healy, S.'J . 176 -THE DISCUSSION ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION: Concluding Survey-- The Editors . 187 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE . 202 BOOK REVIEWS (Edited by Clement DeMuth, S.J.)-- Moral Guidance; The Path of Humility; St. Charles Borromeo; The °King's Advocate; 3esus and I; The Larks of Umbria; The Better Life: For Heaven's Sake; We Wish to See 'jesus; The Following of Christ; His Father's Business; National Liturgical Week, 1942; Shinihg in Darkness . °2 . . 203 BOOKS RECEIVED . 211 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 17. Retreat Master as Exrtaordinary Confessor . 212 18. Reason for Removing Local Superior . 212 19. Postulant M.D. Prescribing for Community . 212 20. Public and Private Recitation of Litanies . 213 21. Providing for Sister Who Leaves Community . 214 22. Taxing for Support of Motherhouse . . " . 214 23. Pension for Work Done before Entering Religion . 216 24. Little Office with Blessed Sacrament Exposed . . . . . . 216 -25. Mistress of Novices Subject to Local Superior . 216 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1943. Vol. II, No. 3. Published bi-monthly: 3~anuary, March, May,-,July, September, and November at" the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter 3anuary 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Tgpeka, Kansas~ under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C, Ellis, S.3., G. Augustine Ellatd, S.,J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Copyrlght~ 1943, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given ,this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed it~.U.S.A. Pa!:ernal overnment: .\, and Filial ConFidence in Superiors John C. For.d, S.J. IT IS SAID that soldiers are notorlo s gnpers. The February (1943) issue of the Infantr'g'dournal, in an article called ':Leadership," offers us a selected batch of confidentially treated opinions on officers, expressed by a number of soldiers early in the war. These are quoted .word for Word. "This army can't be driven; it must be led." "Break up the old army non-corn clique and put advancement on a merit basis." "Officers ibluff too much.". ~"Let non=coms be chosen for what they know, not .whom they know." "Our first lieutenant is dominated by the first sergeant." "No reward for good work; old soldiers learn never to .volunteer for anything." "They treat us like children." "When an officer tell~ his men he doesn't like'the army any more than we do, he's not the one I look to. ". instead of'changing his mind every few minutes." ". should take a little interest in what we eat." ". give us some idea of what's going on in maneu-vers. "We come from just as good or better families . say a good word now and then . call a man by his name . show a man they know their stuff." ".shames us in front of other batteries." I am not goin.g to ask the readers whether they have ~ever heard any complaints like these made about religious 146 PATERNAL ~OVERNMENT superiors. And I am notgbing toask them to make a com-parison between, the faults of army leaders and the faults of religious superiors. -That would be too easy. Everyone knows that superiors, being human, have faults. And .besides, anyone °with sense knows, that when people com-plain, whether about superiors or about others, the real rea-sons for the complaints are often not expressed at all. The complaint is merely a symptom of some deeper discontent. , But I am going to ask the readers to meditate on the above rdmarksone at a time. And I suggest that they ask themselves this question: I~ you were a religious superior what would be youf correspbnding complaint about sub-jects? --- or your answer to subjects' complaints on these headings? For instance, "This army can't be driven: it must be led." If you were a superior would you be t~mpted to say, perhaps, "This particular religious can't be led; he has to be pushed'i? Go through all the complaihts that way. I need not do it-for you. It will be instructive for you to make the trial yourself. It is alw~iys instructive to put oneself in .someone else's shoes, and try to get his point of view. And in this par-ticular instance I think most of my readers will find that it is rather difficult (unless they are or have been superiors) to "look at things from that other point of view. They may have to force themselves to look carefully at the reverse.side of the picture. La~'k ot: Contider~ce a Fact " ' And that brings me to my main p0inti, the unfortunate ~fact that superiors and subjects so often seem to have a dif-~ ferent "point of view." It is to be expected, of course, even' in the most ideal state of affairs, that between the governing and the governed there must necessarily be dii~erences of attitude. But in a religious congregation these differences 147 JOHN C, FORD should be at a minimum. All the members of the religious family are presumably aiming at the same target. Whether. they are superiors or subjects the general goal is the same. /kll are looking primarily, to a sfipernatural end andS under the rules of the particular organization, work from the same. s.upernatural motives for its attainment. The pursuit of perfection in work or in prayer, according to' the spirit of the institute, and finally the perfect love of our Lord are the common aim of all who live in religion. A religious congregation is called a "family" tradi-tionally, and in canon law, because it is supposed to have those characteristics of loving unity which a well-ordered family exhibits. When it is said (for instance in canon 530) that it is good for subjects to go to their .superiors with "filial .confidence," the words really mean what they say. The Code is calling attention toone of the basic reali-ties of religious life. The order or congregation is a family." Superiors should be as fathers to their subjects, and subjects should have corresponding filial confidence in them. (Of course, the word '~'filial" has a wide range of meaning, and the attitude of an eighty-year old veteran to his forty-year old superior is not going to be filial in the same way as that of a young religious.) But it is not too much to say that this confidence is fre-quently lacking. Is it not a fact that superiors and subjects, instead of regarding one another in this paternal or filial vcay, actually, at times, think of one another as being on opposite sides? Is not the "point of view" so different that,. forgetful for the time being of the unity of their general supernatural aims, they regard each other almost as oppon-ents? The little exercise suggested above was meant to bring out (if it needs to-be brought out) the fact that this attitude of opposition sometimes exists. If it does not exist in your mind (whether you are a superior or a subject), so 148 PATERNAL GOVERNMENT much the better. But .I think it exists in only too many minds. - The supposition of the present article, therefoie (and perhaps others along the same lines will follow it), is that there is a deplorable lack of filial confidence in superiors ¯ amongst many religious. My object is to indicate what [ Considerto be some of the,causes of this undesirable state of affairs. Some of the causes are inevitable, and are insepa-rable~ as hinted ahoy.e, from tl~e very idea of distinguishing between governing and go-~erned. But others are due to false or distorted ideas about religious government, and these can be corrected. These false or distorted ideas .are enter-tained at tim~s both by superiors and by. subjects. My purpose is to point them out, with the hope that a correc-tion of them will help to restore that filial.confidence which .ought to be part of religious life. The Forgotten "'Paternal For:urn'" The first point on which there seems to be widespread ignorance, or at least many false ideas, is the very .real dis-tinction which exists between the paternal and j~dicial forum in retigio~s government. (What I say here applies equally to the ."maternal" forum where religious women are concerned, and when ~I speak of the "judicial" forum [ do not mean judicial in the strict canonical sense--with a view to formal accusation and a trial, and so forth but in a broader sense, as will appear,) In one sense all re.ligious government should be pater-nal. Paternal in this sense means spi'rituai, Christian, reli-gious government,, as opposed to worldly,, or domineering, or military, or political .government. Whether superi.ors are acting for the direction of individuals, or with a view to correcting their faults, or'punishing, or with a view to the common good of the. congregation;'their government is 149 ¯ JOHN C. FORD, always supposed, to be paternal in this general .sense. But in a more particular sense a superior is said to act paternally, or in the paternal forum, to distinguish his office as a father from his office as a judge. This distinction is of special importance when the superior acts to correct the faults or delinquencies of his subjects. For, in the correction and punishment of delinquencies, the superior may proceed either paternally or judicially. To illustrate the difference in the two procedures per-haps the following examples will help. Suppose the supe-rior has it brought~ to his attention tl~at some of the younger religious, who are not allowed to smoke, are occasionally smoking without permission. He calls in these religious, tells them what he has heard, and, without making any particu-lar accfisations, reminds them of the regulation which for-bids smoking, or forbids smoking without permission. Suppose that afterwards he asks one of these young reli-gious: "Were you one of the offenders?"--and the answer is "Yes." Thereupon, he urges the offender to be faithful in his observance of the rules and imposes some private pen-ance upon him in order to impress on his mind the impor: tance of regular observance. It seems to me that in this sort ofcase the superior is obviously acting as a father and not as a judge. The matter is being handled in the paternal forum. But suppose the' superior calls in another Leligious who has previously been warned about a faul,t or delinquency of a still more serious kind. And let us suppose that he has been previously warned that future lapses will involve seriofis punishment--postpo~nement of final vows, post-ponement of ordination, or even dismissal from the con-gregation. And to make the case a perfectly clear one, sup-pose that the delinquency involves an external matter which may. give scandal to the faithful or threaten the good" 150 ¯ PATERNAL GOVERNMENT of the institute itselfmfor i.ns.tance, excessive drinking, or familiarity with the opposite sex, or a professed attempt to undermine the authority of.the institute: The superior Says to this religious, "You have been accused again of iuch and such a delinquency. Before proceeding further with this matter I should like to hear what defense you ha~ce to make." Is there any. doubt.that in such a case the superior is acting as a°judge rather than as a father? We say com~ monly that he is acting "in the external forum." For that reason he deals with the subject at arm's le.ngth, as the law-yers say, and he does not expect fromhim the same degree of candor which he could claim if he were acting in the pater, hal forum. ~ It would.be a failure to rate'the facts and implications in such a case if we were to say that the superior is not pro-ceeding judicially merely because he is not.following thd formalities of the canonical judicial.process. For .when a superior sets out to gather, evidence with a view to i.nflicting serious punishment, especially if it be public, and most of all if it be expulsion from the. orgafiizaf!on; it.wouldbe.an abuse, of l~inguage to call the procedure paternal. Hence,. I t~ink no one Will doubt that, even when there is no question of a rea~l trial in the canonical sense, there is a quasi-judicial procedure which differs substantially from the merely paternal. " Classic Authors on the Paternal Forum The distinction between these two functions of the superior, that of father and that of judge, is a fundamenthl one; and it is particularly.important that it be kept in mind, when.a superiok questions his subjects with.'a-view to the correction of faults. It is not a new distinction.~, The classic authors on the religious life (Suarez, de Lugo, and others) make much of it in explaining the duty of frateri~al 151 JOHN C~ FORD " " or evangelical denunciation ~ith reference to r~ligious. " Neverthelem, even under ideal conditions and in cases where this fundamental distinction between paternal and judicial procedure is well understood, it is sometimes hard ¯ to tell whether.a superior who questions a subject is acting in a paternal or a judidial capacity. Some cases are on the border and it is hard to draw the line. From' reading the authors who have treated these matters, especially Suarez, it seems to me that the only satisfactory general criterion whether the superior is acting paternally or judicially is the purpoge of his proceedings. If he is acting principatlg for the good of the delinquent, in order to have him amend his fault, then he is acting as a father, even though as a means to this end some penance is imposed (or: a private nature), or some remedy is used which is repugnant to the subject, for example, a change of appointment. But if he acts principallg forthe good of the congregation, the common good, and seeks to inflict punishment as a vindication of ~religious disci151ine which has been violated, especially if the punishment is public, or if the idea i's to make an example of someone, and most of all if the punishment in question is expulsion in such cases he is acting as a judge. A Cause of Mutual Distrust Am I wrong in s~ying that both superiorsand subjects often lose sight of this fundamental principle of religious government? And am I wrong in the opinion that one of the fundamental causes for lack of filial confidence in supe-riors is the neglect of this distinction? Subjects expect superiors to act in a fatherly way when their duty as guardians of the public good requires that they proceed judicially. Or subjects feel that they have not been treated paternally when, without detriment to their reputation, the superior has changed their work or their 152 PATERNAL GOVERNMENT place-of work for °their own good but in a way that is displeasing'to them. They forget that it is part of a father's duty to administer medicine evenif it has ~ bad taste. Superiors sometimes forget that information received in the paternal forum, whether from the subject concerned or from another, cannot ordinari1~ be used judicially, and never to the detriment of the public standing of the subject within the community. If the superior does act judicially on knowledge which he has received paternally, the confi-dence of his subjects Will be utterly destroyed. For when dealing with him they will .never know for sure whether they are speaking to him as a father to whom as religious children they owe special filial candor, and whom they carl trust to keep their revelations in the paternal forfim, or whether they are speaking to him .in his more public capac-ity as guardian of the cQmmon good, so that whatever they say can, as it were, be used against them. The distinction between the paternal and judicial forum, as far as self-revelation and the correction of faults is concerned, has its roots in the natural law itself. A child who is asked by his mother Whether he stole the jam is bound to tell the truth even if he foresees a spanking. But the man who is asked by a judge whether he is guilty or.not guilty is not bound to betray himself. Religious generally agree, on entering religion, that those who notice their faults may reveal them to the superior as to a father, ,but they do not give up their right to reputation as far as others (whatever' their position) are concerned. They do not agree that fraternal, manifestations or their own self-revelations be made the basis of public repiehension. Human nature being what it is, the axiom, "No one is bound to betray himself" (that is, in a judicial proceeding), appeals very strongly to everyone who gets into trouble. If the result of self-revelation is going to be postponement of 153" JOHN C. FOP, D ordination or of vows, or.a defamatory public reprehension, all but the heroes will be convinced (and rightly) that they are under no obligation to speak. (I exclude here, of course, ~efects so serious that they. impose upon an indi- .vidual the obligation of not going on to the.priestho9d~.) BUt the heroes do not get into trouble. As for the others, there is no doubt that if the private fault of a religiou~,- whether venialiy sinful or not, is known to the superior only as a father, and to a few others, he has no right to pub-lish the matter. A public announcement of it by way of punishment can easily involve a serious violation of the natural law of reputation. A superior's position, then, is a very difficult and very burdensome one. TO play the double role, of father and of judge, prudently, calls for wisdom and:'selflessness in a high degree. It.is quite apparent that the Code has done much to eliminate the confusion between the forum of con~ science and the forum of external government by forbidding superi.ors to be the regular confessors of their subjects, or to hear their manifestations of conscience as a ~atter of rule. But the Code has certainly not abolished the time-honored, essential distinction between the office of father and the office of judge. The present article is meant to recall to mind that dis-tinction, as a means of restoring filial confidence. Naturally speaking, the attempt" can never be completely successful. .Only education to it from the earliest days of religious life can makeit moderately successful, perhaps a future article or two will dwell on some,practical applications of the doc-trine as connected with the obligation of fraternal denuncia-tion, and the custom, where it exists, of manifesting the con-science to a greater or-less degree to the superior. Cofifi~ dences received in these circumstances call for more than ordinary virtue and restraint on the part of superiors, if' 154 they wish to keep their,subjects from distrusting them. And ~ubje'cts will not undertake these onerous duties or practices unless the~, are led by a truly religious desire for their own perfection. In fact, the whole matter is not worth the trouble of discussion excelbt in the case of.religious, both subjects and superiors, who seriously seek the things of God, and who deeply yearn to giv~e themselves entirely to Himmas a man gives himself to the one woman he loves. They must be prepared to spurn worldly principles in order to follow in the footsteps of the humble and humiliated Christ. He was not touchy about His rights. "Mine and thine, those frigid words" (St. Chrysostom), were not a part of His vocabu-lary. [EDITORS' NOTE: Father Ford is interested in the further develop-ment of the subject of filial confidence in superiors, if time permits it. ~With a view to makin_g tentative future articles as helpful as possible, he would welcome communications, even anonymous ones, on the subje~t. Needless to say, the communications would be treated con-fidentially. Our readers, both superiors and subjects, who are inter-ested in this matter, are invited to send their suggestions directly to: The Reverend 3ohn C. Ford, S.J., Weston College, Weston, Mass.] CHANGES OF ADDRESS If you change your address, either temporarily for the summer, or permariently because of a new assignment, you can assure yourself of the prompt and safe delivery ' of the Ju_ly number (and subsequent numbers) by sending us a postcard with answers to these three questions: 1. What is ~our present address? 2. What is your new address? 3. Is the change to be merely for the summer or permanent? Please send the card as soon as possible. The Mot:her of: ,od Aloysius C.Kemper, S.J. DURING the month of May our Blessed Mother is daily proclaimed the Mother of God by millions of voices, ¯ old and young. Over the face of the whole earth, whene*er the Hail Mary is said, and in numerous other prayers and canticles, in public service and private devotion, that glorious title, "Mother of God," rings out in her praise. It is a title we have all learnt to love and to use instinctively from our earliest years. Times without number it rises to our lips, often perhaps without due appre~ciation of its pro-found meaning, but never with the shadow of a doubt that we actually mean what we say when we style the Virgin, "Mother of God." Despite the familiarity of this beloved title, it is amazing, sometimes amusing, to note the puzzled air that steals over the countenance of the average instructed Cath-olic when he is confronte.d with the question, uttered as a challenge: "Do you really mean exactly what you say when you call Mary the Mother of God? Think of it: the eternal, uncreated God, having a mother who brought -Him into the world on a definite historical date, not so many centuries ago! Does it not seem highly preposter-ous if you take it in its strict sense? You cannot possibly mean it .just that way. It must be merely an honorary title you are giving to the Blessed Virgin; for, of course, God could not reatlg have a mother." A test question of this sort is apt completely to baffle the examinee who. appreciates the difficulty and searches desperately for a justification of a title as familiar to him as his own name, while he keeps muttering to himself the disconcerting. refrain, "Of course, God could not reall~ have a mother." THE "MOTHER OF GOD Let us not imagine that such searching inquiry into: the. implications of Mary's most familiar, title, is .merely"a pleasant diversion employed to test the average catecheti-cal. mind. Tb~ challenge was seriously throv~n out by master thinkers in the early Christian centuries who were tampering with the full significance of the Incarnation, and who-persistently denied that God could have.a mother. that bore Him. Thus, in the early fifth century Theodore of Mopsuestia proposed the following argu-ment concerni.ng the divine maternity: "When you ask me whether Mary is man-bearing or God-bearing, I must in .truth reply that she is both; she is the bearer of man a~cording to nature, for it was a man who existed in her womb and was brought forth by Mary; she is likewise the bearer of God, because in the man engendered by her God dwelt, not as though circumsc~:ibed by that human nature, but as present in it according to the decree and affection of His will." Drawing the blunt conclusion from Such premises, he added: "It is absurd to say that the Word consubstantial with the Father is born of the Vir-gin Mary. The one who is born of the Virgin is the indi-vidual who was formed from her substance, . not the Word who is God. He who is consubstantial with the Father has no mother at all." Nestorius, the most notorious heresiarch of the same period, promptly tried to popularize this. false teaching by employing the more telling weapon of ridicule. In his cathedral at Constantinople he ordered a sermon preached by one of the clergy in which the divine maternity of Mary was denied. When a tumult arose in the church at this audacious assault'on the honor of God's Mother, Nesto-rius himself arose to reply and calm the exaspe'rated con-gregation: "The question is frequently put to us," he slyly remarked, "whether Mary should be called Mother 157 ~LOYSIUS C. KEMP~R of God or Mother of a man. Tell me, I pray you, has God a mother? If so, then we may well excuse the pagans for.claiming mothers for their gods. No, no, my dear people, Mary did not bear God." This seems~ to have been the first public profession of the Nestorian heresy: to deny the divine maternity of Mary was an implicit denial of the mystery of the Incarnation itself. " At first sight the objection contained in the Nestorian position may appear serious. But it is a valid objection only on the assumption that in the Incarnation God did not become man, but that there were two distinct persons after the union--God, the Word, Son of the Father, and the man born of the Virgin Mary. Pointing to the Child Jesus, Nestorius would say: "This one is the offspring of Mary, a man like ourselves, truly her Son and Child. The other one, the Word of God, who dwells in this man as in His special temple, was not born of Mary but from eternity pioceeded from the Father by divine generation." He could never be prevailed on to admit and to believe with the whole Church that the Infant born in Bethlehem is truly God made man, and that consequently there can be no possible distinction between "this one" and "that one," as between two persons. His doctrine was condemned by the Church as an execrable heresy. The common people themselves, with a correct sense of the truth, raised an out-cry against the blasphemy that Mary is not the M6ther ~f God; and later when the decree of the Council of Ephesus solemnly proclaimed the divine maternity of Mary their joy and exultationknew no bounds. The title of "Mother of God," applied to the Blessed Virgin, is justified by the following simple reasoning, plain to any child: "Mary is the Mother of Jesus. But ~lesus is truly God. Therefore Mary is the Mother of God." The syllogism thus enunciated contains one asset- .158 tion requiring :further proof or explanation. That Mary .is the Mother.of 2esus no one no.wadays would be inclined to call in question. The modern mind is quite at ease in admitting the historical evidence which vouches for the mother of this man ~lesus, who was born, li(red and died, whose story is,known from the Gospels. However, after tl"Je appearance of the Nestorian i pet-version, of Christ's identity, the second premise of the syl-logism that 3esus is truly God has been doubted or denied by countless bearers of the Christian name. On the. undi-luted truth of this second proposition depends the veracity of Mary's divine motherhood.Unless the Child ~he bor~ is truly and unequivocally God .then quite, i~at,urally neither is she the Mother of God. . . We need not prove the divinity of 3esus .here .but may take it over from the faith of the Church as a dogma ,so fundamental that the very name and substance of our religion would disappear if it were denied. As the Nicene Creed declares:. '.'I believe . . . in one Lord 3esus Christ, the only begotten Son of God', born'of the' Father before all ages., true God of true God. c?nsubstantial with the Father . who for us. men, and for our salvation, came down from heaven and was incarnate .by the Holy Ghost of the VirginMary; and was made man.'-.'. . : These words, of the Creed make it clear.that Christ had two natures, one the divine Which He received, from all et.ernity from the Father, so, that He was "born of the Father". and~ of the same substance with Him. Neverthe-less. this same Son was also born of His~ earthly, Mother from whom He received a human nature, a second nature. added to. the one already His from all eternity. It follows then that God ~he Son was twice born, the natural Son of His heavenly Father, the natural .Son of ,His earthly Mother: in either case the same one, the same individual~ 159 'ALOY$1US C. KEMPER the same divine Person. Could anything be more pl~iinly stated in our creed, or more lucid!y dear from the Gospel narrative than the fact that the whole story, from divine, eternal birth to temporal death and resurrection, is the story of one and the same Person, whether you .designate Him by His divine or His human names, God, Son of God, the Word; Christ, 3esus, or even simply "this man"? It will aid in unravelling subtle difficulties and objec-tions that lurk in many a mind in regard to this doctrine to enumerate in catechetical fashion, what we do not say about the Blessed Mother, and what we do say, regarding her divine maternity. 1. We do not say that the Son of God whom Mary bore did not exist before His earthly birth. This latter is His s.econd birth. By generation from the Father He existed from all eternity. It would be plainly absurd to assert that a woman brought God into His first existence, as though she had made God to be, and there would be no God without her maternal activity. Nestorius wa~ not ashamed to hurl the'accusation at his hearers: "You have Mary make God by calling her the Mother of God." Mary did not make God to be, bu~ she did make God to be man. That He is man is due to her maternal activity, aided by . the over-shadowing of the Holy Spirit. 2. We do not claim that she brought forth God tri-une, but only God the Son, the second Person of ~he Trin-ity. Sometimes when we employ the word "God" we mean the three divine Persons, as when we state that God created the world. Creation belongs equally to all three divine Persons. At other times the word is taken to indi-cate a definite Person, as in the phrase, God became man. It is quite correct to use the word "God" in both connota-tions. But one may object, "Why do we not always state the whole truth, by declaring at once that Mary is the 160 THE MOTHER'OI~ GoD Mother of God the .Son, and not Simply the Mother of God?" The reason is quite" simple. The insidious claim that Mary bore a mere man into the world could in no more effective way b~ laid low at one stroke than by desig-nating her in one. word,- "theotokos," that is "God-bearing," Or in our familiar phraseology-"Mother of uGnodde.r" tTheh eim wphaoclte o ffa tbhriisc s oinf ghleerse tthicuanld fearblsoelth.ood crashes 3. Finally we-do not iay that Mary is the mother of "the human nature of the Son of God. Some in their anxiety to remove misunderstanding suggest that we ,reduce our claim for Mary to a motherhood of human nature, since in this case the mother did no more than clothe an already existing Person with the nature that made Him man. No, this simplification "is in no wise admissible, involving as it does a false notion of the term "mother" and of the implied idea of generation. A mother is properly said t6 bear a son, not his nature. Though her immediate function cbncerns directly only the material ele-ment of his being, the soul being created directly by. God, she is never styled the mother of his body, or the mother of his human nature. She invariably giv.es birth to a child, a man, a person, .an individual; call him what you will, but note that it is .always "he" that is born, not "it." "Mother" and "son''~ are correlative, never "mother" and "nature." The stupen.dous fact in the'present case, known only through revelation, is that the Person in question is the Son of GodHimself. We must, then, observe the same propriety of language: Mary bore "Him," "this Person," "this child"; she is His mother, not the mother of His human nature. Coming now to our Positive doctrine, what"do we claim in regard to the divine maternity? The points may \ I61 "ALOY$1US C. KEMPER be very briefly stated, being already largely covered by the preceding explanation. 1. Mary cooperated in the birth of her divine Son exactly ~s any other mother, as far as her maternal func-tion was concerned. What she could not furnish as belonging to the paternal activity was in this case sup-plied by the power of the Holy Spirit. 2. The ordinary laws of human development were operative as usual. For nine whole months the Blessed Virgin was inexpressibly more than a mere temple of God, for the flesh of her divine offspring and her own were united in a°truly~physical unity as the sacred fruit of her womb advanced to maturity. 3. The birth of Christ was a ~irgin birth, strictly miraculous--a truth defined by the Church from the earliest ages. andexpressed in the Creed by the words "born of the Virgin Mary." This was the second nativ-ity of the Son of God, who through it became one 6f our race without ceasing to be Son of God. 4.' Ther~ is however only one Son under considera-tion, not two. As soon as one would wish to introduce a second son the hypostatic union would be sacrificed, and we should find ourselves in the Nestorian two-person camp. We should then be constrained to refer to "this one" as the Son of the Father, and to the "other one" as the Son of the Mother, and the latter, would not be God, nor would Mary be the Mother of God. The truth is the other way. We point to the Infant ,Jesus in the crib, or to the dying Savior on the cross and ciy out, enlight-ened by supernatural faith, "truly this is the Son of God "and of Mary." 5. The actions belonging to the body,the soul and ¯ the human nature of "this man" may be, and indeed must 162 MOTHER 01~ GOD be, attributed to the second person of the Trinity, Thus it is God Himself that dwelt amongst us, God Himself that was born, was nurtured at Nazareth, "ate, slept. walked ~he streets, preached, prayed, sweat blood, suffered, died, and was.buried. Some of these expressions occur in the Creed, in the recitation of which we often fail to remark that the greater part of it concerns the terrestrial human life of the eternal Son of God. made flesh and dwelling amongst us. ,. His dwelling amongst us depende.d upon His first having been "born of the Virgin Mary," which is but another way of saying that the Virgin is truly and properly the Mother of God. A cold and schematic analysis such as the foregoing may appear an unworthy appraisal ofone of the most con-soling truths of our faith, and of the most sublime of all .of Mary's priceless prerogatives, her divine maternity, the very rbot and foundation of all her magnificent adorn-ments. Yet cold, theological analysis is a necessary approach to'a fuller realization of the rich treasure of our holy faith. It wiil serve in the present case, it is hoped, to focus a clearer, steadier light on the Madonna with the divine Child, by clearing a.way any lingering haze of misY understanding that may attach to her maternal dignity, so that the truth and beauty of this sweetest of all images may stand forth in new brilliancy in our minds, and cap-tivate our hearts in a more undying love of the Mother and the Son. 163 The Cell Technique ot: Specialized Ca!:holic Action Albert S. Foley, S.2. 44CTRONGER and greater than any othe~will no doubt ~ be the aid afforded to Catholic Action by the numerous religious families of both sexes who have already rendered signal .services to the Church for the good of souls in your'nation. They w.ill give this aid not only by their incessant prayers but still more by generously devoting .their 'efforts to it, even if they do not, properly speaking, have charge of souls; they will give it more par- .ticularly by preparing for Catholic Action, even from the most tender age, the boys and girls whom they teach in their work, and especially in schools and colleges, both for men and women, placed in great part under the direction of reli-gious Institutes; ~nd above all in developing inthem the sense of the apostolate, and in directing them finally toward the Catholic Action organizations or in receiving these into their own associations and institutions.''1 In accordance with these wishes and directives of our .late Holy Father, great Work has been done by many out-standing religious youth directors in English-speaking countries. These religious, by their literary and organiza-" tional work, by their agitation and their achievements, have contributed mightily to the cause of general Catholic " Action. There is hovcever one phase of the movement that has no~ yet received sufficient attention in the United States. That is the preparation of leaders for the apostolate of 1pius X[ to Cardinal Leme da Silveira Cintra and tl~e Brazilian Hierarchy, October 27, 1935. AAS 28 (1936) 163. 164 THE CELL TECHNIQUI~ specialized Catholic Action by means of the cell technique. Lacking leaders so trained, the development of total Cath-olic Action in our country is lagging slightly behind some parts of the Catholic World. Butwe can be sure that this state of things will not last .long. Many religious through-out the country have become convinced of the value of this new technique. They have become the biodynes of this new .cell movement, have begun to stimulate cell grow~th and multiplication in all kinds of milieus, and even in manor existing Catholic Action organizations. If these pioneers are joined by large numbers of our capable, enthusiastic religious, American Catholic Action will soon become-the vital Christianizing influence it should be. Catholic Action is undeniably destined to be a force for the restoration of a11 things and all men in Christ. Plus XI defined it as the "participation of the laity in the apostolate of the hierarchy." He moreover insisted that this participa-tion should not be merely g~neral and sporadic as in the past, but should be organized and specialized according to environment, to facilitate an apostolate of like by like--~ the worker becoming an apostle for workers, the profes-sional man for professional men, the student for Other stu-dents. To meet the extra demands .of this personal aposto-late, the cell technique was devised, and the Pope, after seein~g it in action, praised it as the "genuine, authentic, per~ fected forrii of Catholic Action." What precisely is this cell technique? The cell notion and terminology is of course derived by analogy from the physiological unit of the living organism. A Catholic Action cell is a small, specialized unit of the Mystical Body, having, as every cell has, two dements: 1.) an active share in the life of the whole Body in order to achieve its particu-lar function; and 2) a certain inner composition fitted and adapted to carry out that function. We shall consider in 165 ALBERT S. FOLE~ this article both the apostolic spirit energizing the cell, and theinner composition and w6rkings of its organization. ¯ First, as to the apostoli~ spirit. In the letter quoted at the head of this article, Pius XI stresse~l the importance of "developing in them the sense Of the apostolate." It is not enough for them to know, the Pope pointed out, that the laity are, by their membership in the Mystical Body, privi-leged and entitled to share in the hierarchy's apostolic work. Nor is it ~uflicient to hammer home their duty to their fel-low men in this respect., They must be imbued with so ardent and personal a love for Christ that the apostolic spirit will automatically, inflame them.' No blue-nosed zealotry, no fanatical reforming mania, no hypocr.itical, h01ier-than-thou attitude can pose .as apostolic in cell work. Rather, the soundest basis, for lasting achievement through the technique is this keen personal attachment the Leader. That, by the way, is the method our Lord Himself used to draw His first followers. By His personal magnetism He won toHimself Andrew and John. Andrew, enthusi-astic in his new-found love, brought Simon Peter to Christ. John no doubt brought, his brother James. Then when Philip was called, his first apostolic conquest was Nathaniel. Soon the group, the first cell, was formed. Christ won their hearts utterly to Himself. Only then were they ready for their apostolic mission. This personal devotion to Christ is all the more neces-sary because of the apostolic methods, used in celt work. The re-Christifying of the immediate milieu is to be car-ried on not only through the general methods of propa-ganda and influence, but especially by .the apostolate of personal contact, of man-to-man conquest of consciences and souls through service, winning influence, individual attention and indoctrination. 166 THE. CELl. \ The present-day, possibilities and functionings of tNs System were symbolized vividly during one of-the Cath-olic Action .Congresses in Europe before the war. At a n[gh~ service ina giant stadium. some 80,000 were assembled. Suddenl~ all the lights went out, except candles burning on the altar. From one of these, signifi-cantly, the leader lighted his candle, carried the flame down to his neighbors, and transmitted it to them by personal contact. These two lighted in turn the two nearest to them. The light at first spread slowly along the fbont rows as candle after candle caught fire. But soon it gained momentum. It became a racing flame, sweeping through. the whole center of the stadium and up into the stands in geometrically progressive leaps and bounds until all were ignited. That is a true symbol of the movement. A flame, a fire passed on by :personal contact in the immediate milieu can spread and catch all, where methods of mass a~itaton .of large, unwieldy units, fired by an outside enthusiast, will at most perhaps light up a temporary, borrowed glow. Using this personal contact technique, a small group of Catholic Actionists won back to the Church and:the Sacraments 85 pergent of the student bod~ in a godless state University in France within three y~a~s:. Another group of ~lerks at the Paris Stock Exchange conquered for Christ 300 of the 500 clerks there. The remainder were brought into conformity with Christian business ethics. Result: the Exchange was reformed more effectively by this technique than Wall Street by the. SEC. It is noteworthy. too that the Jocists in Europe have, by this method, triple~ their membership to well over a million since the tragic summer of 1940, despite the handicaps of the occupation. S~ilar results are being obtained, in Canada. In our own country a few such.instances as these are on record. One 167 .~LBEKT ~. FOLEY Manchester youth won back to the Church twenty-four out of twenty-seven of his companions who had fallen away. A Notre Dame freshman, after a few months of training in the technique, ~vent back to his home town and inspired forty of his former high school friend~ with the idea. Together he and they spent their summer getting Catholic children to go to Catholic schools. They thus increased the enrollment of Catholic grammar and high schools more than twenty percent. It is therefore rather incorrectto maintain that none of our youth in school or out of it is capable of being inflamed with this conquering spirit. The plain fact is that many are already burning with a fiery desire to do something for Christ, and that many others can easily be so enkindled. Under the pressure, of the war, or perhaps despite it, .the more intelligent and wide-awake among them are authen-tically responding to the Church's spiritual program. Mass is being better .attended, more intelligently shared-in, more fruitfully lived. Retreats, holy hours, visits, and other spiritual activities send them back to religion classes eager to learn more of Christ. They willingly undertake myriads of zealous activities for Him, and for His Mysti-cal Body, a consciousness of which latter is not.wanting . tin them, now that their frequent Communions and their innate goodness and ~harity are bearing fruit. Hitherto, perhaps too often, these early indications of piety have been taken as signs of an incipient religious vocation, not of a summons to Catholic Action. Spirited youths have sometimes shied away from the religious .life when it and it alone was presented to them as the only logical conclusion of a keen,-active love for Christ. To avoid'tha~ special vocation for which they felt no attrac-tion, they have too often built up .resistance to the call of Christ, become impervious to the influence of the Sacra- 168 THE CELL TECHNIQUE mentsand of retreats, and allowed the flame of their love for Christ to be smothered in other pursuits. If they were given training and instruction in .the c~ll t~echniqu¢ of Catholic Action specialized to their student-or youth surroundings, this fire would be saved. They would then be prepared for a zealous lay Catholic life in their future environment, and for the religious life as Well, should theyfinally choose it. One difficulty-immediately presents itself. Will the grooming of youth for lay apostolic work seriously cut down the number of religious vocations? If 'the best youngsters become enthusiastically interested in and trained for the vast field of zealous achievements for Christ in their Own milieu, will they devote their lives to that field rather than enter the religious life? Will first-hand acquaintance with the dynamic, up-to-the~minute, effi-cient techniques of specialized Catholic Action so absorb all their interest as to leave no room for ambi~oning the apostolic work open to religious? It is hot easy to answer.these queries in advance. But it can be noted that in those countries where religious have generously devoted their efforts to training youth for specialized Catholic Action, religious vocations have increased. In Italy, just one year after the reorganization of Catholic Action, the feminine ~ection alon(~ furnished 2,500 vocations. In France, Belgium, and Holland, they were on the upsurge.These Catholic Action groups con- ' sidered it a sign of a successful federation if it produced ~eligious vocations among the leaders or among the ~ank and file. Where none were forthcoming, those in charge sensed that s~mething was.awry. Already in~ the United States, where specialized cells are in the experimental stage in Chicago, Toledo, Dayton, and New York, in Manchester and other cities in the New England States, at 169 .~LBERT S. FOLEY l~otre Dame, Marquette, John Carroll and Dayton Uni-versities and a. dozen other colleges, as well as in scattered groups t~roughout the rest of the country, many religious vocations have_ resulted. Moreover these new recruits will be all the more excellent religious for having served their apprenticeship in the cell movement. This becomes evident from an examination of the inner structure and the other elements of this cell tech-nique. Given a group of six or eight intelligent, sincere leaders-to-be (not politicians, publicity seekers, pious racketeers, or "pushy" religious climbers), the technique first prescribes that they be formed into a cell, a living unit of the.Mystical. Body, under the personal direction of a priest or a religious. The cell is organized under a leader, usually the oldest with ~he best personality, and through this leader and by means of private conferences with him, the director outlines plans and procedures for the cell meeting of about two hours every week without fail. It is in the cell meeting that the fire of personal zeal is fanned into flame, and the techniques of spreading that fire to others are studied, applied to their own lives and to the concrete problems of their surroundings. ~ The formula for the meeting comprises the follow-ing: 1) CorporateVocal Prayer before and after the meeting; 2) Corporate Mental Prayer or Gospel Study; 3) The Checkup; 4) The Social Inquiry; 5) Liturgy .Appreciation. A brief word on each of these) 2More detailed analysis is impossible in so short a compass as an article. Consult for further information, the following works: Fitzsimons and McGuire, Restorin9 All Tt~ings, A Guide to Catl~olic Action, (Sheed ~ Ward, 1938) 198-236; McGuire.-Paul, Handbook of Group AOencla, (K. of C., New Haven, 1940): Geissler. E. Trainin9 of Lay Leaders, (Univ.~ of Notre Dame. 1941): William Boyd, "Militants of Christ" Orate Fratres, xvi (Jufie 14. 1942) 338-347. In regard to the program of subjects for Inquiries. we may mention that this has been worked out in exact detail by youth groups in other countries---Canada, for instance, having a full seven-year cycle of subjects. These, of course, have to be adapted to the American scene by individual and collective work of the cells, but cellists can no doubt learn much from their experience, as is the case with those already experi-menting with it here. - '170 1) Corporate'Vocal Prayer. Led by one of the them= bets, who may or. may not be permanently chosen, the group recites what vocal prayers they choose for the start and the end of the meeting. It may seem strange at first that the priest or religious present should pray along with them instead of praying in place of them. But the reason is apparent. For united, organized action the group must not only work together, play together, study and plan together, but must also pray together. Active, dynamic praying can never be developed by passively hearing others pray. They must do it themselves, and thus develop that sense of togetherness in the Mystical Body, that union of all with Christ as His own. They or the director may suggest prayers, either of the ordinary devotional type, or, as their acquaintance with it increases, from the liturgy. 2) Corporate Mental Prager or Gospel Studg. One of the main means to fan the fire of love for Christ has been found to be the direct, prayerful study, of the inspired word for about fifteen minutes at the start of the me.eting. It is perhaps difficult for religious to realize the stirring impact of the Gospels on one who prays over them for the first time. True, most youngsters are half-way acquainted with the parables and the general outline of our Lord's ¯ life. But the absorbing and compelling magnetism of His life. is a new thing to them. By personal, prayerful reading and application to their lives of scenes' like the Annuncia-tion, the call of the Apostles, the full Sermon on the Mount, the discourses inSt. John, the sermons in the Acts, the~, are as a group drawn together to the Master, meet Him as never before, feel their hearts burning within them" anew. This should be linked up with and pointed toward the Social Inquiry, to furnish motivation,, inspiration, guid-ance, or principles for it. And no one, surely, is apt to be 171 ~LB~T S. FOLEY better prepared for doing this than the religious who has for years 'drunk deeply at this source of light and warmth. It is not long before the cell realizes, as Archbishop Good-. ier maintains, that "nothing can take the place of constant, repeated reading of the Gospels." '3) The Checkup. This is out of place here in a logi- .cal explanation of the technique, but it is definitely in place in the technique itself, especially after the first meeting. The checkup consists in this, that the ceil members examir~e their social consciences. They report on the fulfilment of the definite resolutions taken in their Gospel study. Each one tells of his work in carrying out the plans decided on in the Social Inquiry. Mutual stimulation, interchange of ideas and metl~ods, discussion of successful techniques of approach, conquest, influence,, and service spontaneously result. Nor should the psychological value of the checkup be overlooked. It plays as important a role in fostering the social apostolate as would a public examen of con-science in the endeavor to attain to .personal perfection in a rel~gi6us community. 4) The Social. Ir~quirtj. This is the most important and most essential section of the cell meeting, the heart' of the whole cell ,technique. Many religious are acquainted ~with it as the Jocist method of attacking social problems in any given milieu, always with the aim, of course, to rec,hristianize or conquer more completely for Christ the persons contacted. The three phases of the method are observation, judg-ment, and action. These constitute what amounts to a group meditation, conducted l~y the discussion method, with the .three phases roughly corresponding to the exer-cise of the memory, the understanding, and the will. To be sure, just as in formal meditation, it is more a question of stress than of air-tight division into these compartments. 172 THI~ CI~LL TECHR'IQUI~ BU~ while forming one unit,, one human act, the phases are distinct ~ind have definite purposes. In the Observation phase the leader and the cellists put their heads together.to analyse the elements of the problem at hand, .the available data they can recall. It is a fact- .finding, fact-gathering process.to set the stage fo~ discus-sion, thought, and comparison witl~ Christian ideals. These too they mus~ recall (or learn if they do not know them) either from their Gospel, study, or from religion classes, or from other instruction in Catholic social prin-ciples and moral-standards, ethical practice and even com-mon sense. All the facets of this one environmental prob-lem are thus examined until the cell" discovers what is wrong or less good when placed side by side with Chris-tian standards. To,aid this .process, the leader prepares in advance with the director's aid, a series, of stimulating questions that suggest avenues of approach and investigation,, or revive faint memories hidden away in the recesses of the mind. Once this is done, they are ready for the second phase. The Judgment to be passed, it must be remarked, is not a juridical one. It is certainly not to be a Pharisaic one. Nor is it to remain theoretical. It is rather a reso-lute, imperiofis decision reached by all simultaneously,, or better still,, a practical judgment by the group that some-thing is to be done and done by them as a group, in the, solution of this problem. By uniting the data of their. observation with the motivation furnished by their zeal and-with the urgent need for their action, they concretize this zeal and channel their ~efforts into this one present prob-lem. Their convictions thus became principles of action, and it is this action that they discuss in the third and cli-mactic phase of the method.- 173 ALBERT S. FOLEY Everything is pointed toward this Action phase. But it is the most difficult and critical Of all. Here the group discusses what sp.ecific, definite, immediate steps are to be taken by each member, what precise lin~s of conquest to be ~ followed before their next meriting. Concrete resolutions are takeh. These are recorded to be checked up on next week., The prime psychological value of this group medita-tion is plain. In religious organizations and in religion classes, in retreats, sermons, missions and lectures, we have tried every method of force-feeding known to pedagogical science. We wonder at the sluggish,spiritual appetites of the students, even the more capable ones. This method fosters their self-activity. It lets them eat. They rise up from this spiritual board and go out to expend their ener-gies in action and exercise, and come back athirst and hun-gering for more. They find that it is not what is given them but what they get by their own efforts that.really satisfies and stimulates. The Observe, Judge, Act system may not produce .doctorate theses, but it is their own, their very own, not some~ pre-fabricated or pre-digested menu impersonally served them by outsiders. 5) The Liturgy1. The final few minutes of the mi~et-ing are devoted to an" appreciation of the currentliturgy. As a stimulus to their grou15 praying nothing helps more than active participation in Massas a cell. For this,, an understanding of the Church's.seasons and of the weekYs feasts is an indispensable aid. This should be linked up too withthe carrying out of their practical resolutions for specialized Catholic Action. What, therefore, should a religious do who wishes to make use of this technique in training a group of leaders-to-be? The Pope's program in regard to general Catholic Action applies with particular, force to this specialized 174 THE CELL TECHNIQUE form: Prayer, Study, Experimentation. Without prayer, the prime requisite, the other, two are doomed from the start. In lieu of special courses, such .as those urged by Plus XI and Cardinal Pacelli in a letter written by the pres-ent Holy Father to superiors of religious orders (March 12, 1936), religious may study the movement by making acquaintance with the books and groups referred to in this article and by following the leads they will give if con.- sulted. Finally, experimentation with groups °even in existing organizations (as is being done in the Sodalities in many places) can be carried on with no more friction than that caused by the retreat movement. Both. retreat and cell movements are for the training of an elite, both are indis-pensable to th~ future ,work of these lymphocytes, these cells for the restoration and upbuilding of the Mystica! Body.' Divine Providence and Religious Institutes In an article entitled ."Introduction to Franciscan Spirituality," published in Franciscan Studies for December, 1942, Fr. Philibert Ramstetter, O.F.M., rightly insists that the Church must be the special object of God's loving Providence, and that in particular the Religious Orders and Congregations com~ under this Provi-dence. "Nor should the multitude and diversity of Religious communities mak~ us pausg," adds Fr. Ramstetter. "The all-wise God has.a particular and exactly-defined task for every single one of them. Moreover, history makes it clear that each such Order and Congregation, at least partly because of its special work, has its own mor~ or less specialized way of sanctifying the men and women who come under its influence, In other words, by the Providence of God each,approved Order or Con-gregation becomes a distinct school of spiritualityby itself or finds it proper place within one already established, each school having its particularized ideal~ of the supernatural life given to the world by ~lesus Christ. "The variety of schools within God's Church does no~ imply that the essence or principles of Christian living ever chang~they are as constant as the mind of God. But it does mean that the Christian concept of religion is wide enough to embrace not only varying degrees of personal perfection but also different artirude~ towards the Christian life and, as a result, different ways of living it." 175 The Seal ot: Confession Edwin F. Healy, S.J. WHEN a Catholic goes to confession and tells the priest ~all the secret sins and defects of his life, he realizes that the knowledge of the faults which he is impart-ing to his confessor will remain jUStoaS hidden from others as though he had spoken to God alone. Many theologians used to assert that the knowledge of the sins confessed is possessed by the confessor only as God. As man, he knows nothing of them. Though many other theologians dis-agreed with this way of stating the case, all donceded that, since the confessor has received this knowledge as the repre-sentative of God, it is now beyond the scope of human rela-tions. The priest possesses it as incommunicable, knowl-edge which must be buried forever in the secret ~iaults of his memory. Since the earliest days of the Church all theologians have taught that the confessor must suffer anything, even the most horrible type of death, rather than violate his obli-gation of keeping secret all sacramental knowledge. The seal of confession binds in every imaginable set of circum.- ¯ ¯ ~stances. Even though a priest, by violating the seal, could prevent the outbreak of a prolonged, devastating, world-wide war, he would, nevertheless, still be bound to absolute secrecy. In other words, a confessor is never permitted to reveal knowledge guarded by the seal, no matter how great the good which such a revelation would effect. There are no exceptions to this 'rule. If even one exception were allowed, the faithful would not approach the Sacrament of Penance with the same freedom and confidence. Penitents in general, and especially hardened sinners, would entertain the fear that their sins might one day be revealed. By pre- 176 THE SI~,~L 01~ CONFESSION venting, such evil effects, .the excluding of any and every exception works to the common spiritual good of all Chris-ians arid greatly outweighs any accidental beneficial results which might follow in this or that particular case from the restelation of a sacramental confession. The seal of confession, then, is the obligation 9f abstaining fromall use of sacramental knowledge, if the use Of that knowledge would either betray the penitent or render him Suspect. Hence, the confessor is obliged to main-tain the strictest silence concerning all that he learns in the Sacrament of Penance, when the discussion of such matter would even remotely risk disclosing the .penitent .and his sin. The obligation of the seal requires even more than this. The priest must refrain from making use of anything learned in confession, if the use of such knowledge would in any .way whatsoever tend to the detriment of the Sacra-ment. The subject-matter of the seal consists, in general, of all sins, defects and everything else of a confidential nature manifested in a sacramental confessiofi.It includes all that the penitent rightly or wrongly confesses as s{n. All mor-tal sins,, then, even though they be notorious, and all venial sins, even the slightest, are matter of the-seal. But more than this. The subject-matter of the seal embraces all remarks and explanations made by the penitent with the intention of perfecting the ~self-accusation, whether or not the points mentioned are necessary or useful or wholly superfluous for the proper understanding of the case. If, then, the penitent reveals to the priest temptations which he has experienced or evil tendencies against which he must struggle, the confessor is obliged to keep this knowledge strictly to himself. The same is true with regard to the description of the circumstances in which the s~ns occurred. If; for example, a penitent mentions that the murder which 177 EI~W!N'F. HEALY he has committed took place at a certain gasoline station, or if he discloses the manner in which the murder was per-petrated, these bits of information also would be safe-guarded by the Seal. What is to be said of the physical or mental defects which, in one way or another, come to the attention of the confessor during the course of the confession? Natural deficiencies must be considered matter of the seal either if they are manifested in order to explain some sin or if they are secret defects. Even though these latter are not men-tioned by the penitent but are accidentally learned by the confessor, the priest must maintain sacramental secrecy in their regard. It is dear, then, that such traits as a tendency to avarice or anger or other secret moral, weaknesses are sub-ject- matter of the seal. Though th~ subject-matter of the seal is very extensive, there is, nevertheless, ' certain knowledge acquired in sacra-mental confession which does not fall under the seal. In this category belong Statements made clearly by way of digres-sion, which in no way per.tain tO the sins submitted to the Power of the Keys. An example of this is the remark:. ',Father, my new home is finished now. Will you bless it when you have time?" The knowledge thus imparted'is given extra-sacramentally. That one come~ to confession is of itself a public fact to which the confessor is a witness. Hence, it is not matter of theseal. The same is true regard-ing the !ength of time which a penitent remains in the con-fessional. If, however, a man approaches a priest in secret to go to confession, his coming to the Sacrament is not pub-licbut secret. Since knowledge of tl~is secret fact could easily give rise to suspicion of serious sin, it becomes matter of the seal. Also, if a man were to spend an unusually long time in the confessional, prudence would prompt the priest not to reveal this, for fear that it might lead others to sus- 178 THE S~L pect that this penitent had a large nUmberof sins to tell. Let~us suppose that a thief were to kneel at the feet 6f a priest and recount various sins, but with no in~entiofi of receiving the Sacrament ofPenance. He has placed himself in. these circumstances merely to have a .better opportunity for picking the pockets of this pious priest. In this case the confessor would in no wise be bound to sacramental secrecy, because the obligation 6f the seal arises only from a confes-sion which.is sincerely made with a view to receiving abso-lution. (Whe(her or' not the absolution is actual!y imparted makes no difference with regard to the obligation of the seal.) As long asthere is the intention, then, to . receive the Sacrament of. Penance, the obligation of the sea! ¯ is present in spite of the fact that ~he .penitent lacks~ the proper dispositions or the priest lacks faculties for hearing confessions. A sacramental confessi.on, therefore; and only a sacramental confession imposes the obligation of the seal. But, one may ask, what if a man were to go to a priest Who is vesting for Mass, and, in order to put an end to his wbrrying, explain certain severe tem. ptations which he has just experienced? Is this to be deemed sacramental confes-sion? It is sacrament~il on on:e condition:¯ namely, that the man desires the priest to give him absolution, in case he judges it necessary or advisable. If, on the other hand, a.per-son confesses his sins by letter to a priest who is in another town,the~re would be no sacramental secrecy involved. Why is this? The confession, in order to be sacramental, must be made to a priest who is actually present. What if one approached a priest and, with no intention at all of going to confession,, revealed some secret, prefacing his disclosure with the words: "Father, I am telling you this under the seal of. confession"? Would tiiis priest then be bound by the seal? No, he would not. But let us suppose thathe readily agreed to receive the communication under the 179 EDWIN F.' HEALY secrecy of confession. Even in this case he would not be held by the seal. The reason is dear. Since no sacramental confession is made, not even an incipient one, this secret can-not be protected by the seal of the Sacrament. x~rhat is required to constitute a transgression against the obligation of the seal? Obviously the seal is violated. when one reveals matter protected~ by sacramental secrecy and at the same time in some why designates the. penitentm supposing, of cours~e, that the latter has granted no explicit permission to disclose this knowledge. Such illicit revela-tion may b~ either direct or indirect. For direct violation there must be a clear manifestation both of matter of the seal and of the identity of the penitent concerned. If, for example, a priest were to make known the fact that John Jones committed a murder (and he is aware .of this.only from Jones' confession), he would undoubtedly.be guilty of a direct violation of the seal. But what if.that priest did not mention Jones by name, but simpler declared that the wealthiest man in this town (and Jones is known as such) ,committed a murder? This also would go directly counter to the seal. Or again, if that priest were to state that the first man who came to him to confession today confessed the crime of murder, and if his hearers knew., that Jones was ~.-that first pegitent, the seal would be violated directly. Not only revealing mortal sins but divulging even venial sins can constitute a direct violation of the seal. If, forexample, the confessor asserts that' James" Brown con-fessed a sin of lying or that he is guilty of serious sins or of m~nq venial sins, he is directly transgressing against the sacrdd 'obligation to secrecy. The sins need not be named specifically. . Up to this point we have treated only of the direct vio-lation of the seal. A violation is said to be indirect when causes the danger of manifesting the penitent and his sins or 180 THE SEAL OF (:ONFESSION at least of exciting suspicion in his regard. This danger may be created by what the confessor says or does or even by what he omits to do. A confessor would indirectly violate the seal, if he made known the penance which he imposed on a certain penitent, unless of course the penance were very light, for example, two Hail Marys. Provided that his way of acting could be observed by others, a confessor would sin against the obligation of the seal if, after confes-sion, he were to give the penitent a severe look or if he failed to treat him in as friendly a manner as he did before.- More.- over, a confessor violates the seal indirectly, if during the ' confession he argues with the penitent in a somewhat loud. voice, or if he repeats the sins confessed in a tone that risks revealing.the faults to others. In passing we may remark that eavesdroppers who try to hear what the penitent is saying in confession or those who kneel very close to the confessional in order to learn wha~ is going on sin against, the seal, even though they reveal to others nothing of what they manage to overhear. One thus listening to a-penitent's confession is causing the revelation of the penitent and of his sins to one who has no right to this knowledge, that is, to himself. This is a direct viola-tion of the seal. However, if one happens to be standing some distance from the confessional, he is not obliged to move away or to stop his ears, though he may accidentally overhear one who is confessing too loudly. (Nevertheless, whatever is thus overheard mustbe guarded under the seal. ) Let us now consider the seal in its wider interpretation. The seal, taken in this meaning, is violated indirectly when, on the one hand, there is no danger of either disclosing or exciting suspicion about the penitent and his sin, but, on the other hand, harm or displeasure to the penitent arises from the use of sacramental knowledge. In instituting the Sacra- 1'81 EDWIN F, HEALY ¯ ment of Penance~. Christ imposed the obligation of the seal on all. those who share in confessional kr~owledge. ¯ He did :.this in order to preclude the aversion towards the Sacrament which the lack of such security would occasibn in the hearts of the faithful. Christ desired that no Use be made ofcon-fessional knowledge which would cause injury to the Sacraz ment. In order to safeguard the observance of the seal in the strict sense, the Church forbids the confessor to employ sac- . ramental knowledge in a way that w.ould displease the peni-tent. Such :;n action of the priest, even though there were no danger of betraying tl~e penitent, would, nevertheless, violate the seal as it is understood in its .w, ider meaning. We mentioned above that the seal, in its broader inter-pretation, is violated ~hen "harm or displeasure to the peni-ten[ arises from the use of sacramental knowledge." What do we meanby, the words "harm or displeasure" ? We mean injury either in body, in soul, or in extern~l possessions. We mean whatever would redound to the dishonor or discredit of the penitent; whatever would inconvenience him or annoy, shame, or sadden him. We mean, in a word, what-ever would make the penitent even slightly regret his con-fession. Hence, the use of confessional knowledge which would cause any of these effects must be counted illicit.If such use were permissible, penitents would find the Sacra-ment of Penance less desirable and less easy to approach. ~:'hus they would be deterred, at least to some extent, from going to confession. They would not find in this Sacrament ~he freedom and the consolation which they may righ~tly ¯ expect. Would.not the use of sacramental knowledge which we brand as illicit become lawful if the penitent himself were unaware of the fact that he was being injured o~ legislated against because of what is known only through the Sacra-ment? Let us imagine, for example, that a particular peni- 182 tent isdeprived of some o~ce or that he is denied some privi-lege because through confession he is known tO be unworthy ~ of these. Is such use permissible, provided the penitent does not know and wili never learn that what he told'his confes-sor is thus being employed to his disadvantage? No, such use is never allowed. The penitent's ignorance of the fact that his confessor is thus using sacramental knowledge would in no way r~nder Such use licit. It is not necessary that the penitent hnow that knowledge ~btained in a sa~ra-mental confession is being employed to injure him. If a cer-tain use of sacramental knowledge would be displeasing to the penitent if it .were known, such use must be placed in the category of forbidden~actions. Let us suppose, for instance, tha~ a priest after confession, when alone with his penitent, shows, himself less congenial or notably more brusque towards the penitent. Though the penitent does notadvert to the fact that the confessor is acting thus because of what he heard in_confession, the priest sins agains~ the seal, taken in the wide sense. ~ The confessor must give no sigfi that he is conscious of what was mentioned in the Sacramentof Penance. He is: moreoyer, forbidden to speak to his penitent outside confes-sion of any ~in which the latter confessed. In this case, it is true, the reve~lation, of no secret would be involved, but such a way of acting would ordinaril~r be displeasing'to the faith-ful. Once the penitent has retired from the confessional, the sacramental judgment is at an end, and the priest in now' speaking to the penitent 'of what transpired during that judgment, is acting against the reverence and the liberty due the. Sacrament. One may readily see, then, that the sacra-mental seal binds more strictly than any other ty.pe of secret. Other secrets, unlike the sacramental seal, would not be vio-lated, if those who had the hidden knowledge in common were to discuss it a ~mong themselves. 183 At times, pe~nitents ~ppr0ach their confessor Outside con-fi~ ssion and ask him about the penance which he imposed on them, or about sbme bit Of advice which he gave, or about the gr~ivity of a certain sin which they confessed. Does the sealprevent the confessor .from answering these questions~? No, it does not, because by thd very fact that the penitent begins speaking of these matters he grants permission to the priest to talk about them with him. Ordinarily, however, his permission is limited to a discussion of the matter which the penitent has broached and may not be extended to all the sins confessed. Incidentally we may mention that it is possible for a penitent to sin by revealing, without a good reason, the advice, the penance, and so forth, given by the confessor, if such a revelation woul~l redound to the priest's discredit. Those who hear the penitent's comments do not know the reasons Which prompted the confessor to impart such advice or to impose so severe a penance, and the priest is powerless to speak in his own defense. The penitent, more-over, should be on his guard against revealing anything 6f what transpires during the confession, if that would lower the Sacrament in the esteem of others. May the confesson without the penitent's leave, men-tion to him during the course of a confession sins confessed on previous occasions? Yes, this may be done, provided there is a sufficient reason for calling these past sins to .the attention of the penitent. The priest may deem it advisable to refer to some sin of the past, ih order to become better acquainted with the state of this penitent's ~oul and so be able to direct him more effectively. Far from objecting to this, the penitent should be happy that his confessor is so solicitous about his advancement in the. spiritual life. More-over, even.when a penitent leaves the confessional but returns immediately, the confessor may discuss with him 184 both the sins just confessed and the sins of previous confes-sions. Some priests give a few words of advice after having imparted the absolution. This is permissible, bedause, though the Sacrament is completed, the sacramental judg-ment, morally speaking; still continues. The penitent may, of course, give the confessor leave to speak outside confession about certain sins submitted to the Power of the Keys, and if this is done, the confessor may freely discuss those sins. It is important to note that this permission, in order to be valid, must be granted by the penitent n. ot only'expressly but also with entire freedom. If the permission were to be extorted by threats or fear or importunate pleadings, it would be worthless, and the con-fessor who acted upon it would violate the seal. The same ¯ is true with regard to permission that is merely presumed or interpretative. In this matter such a permission must be counted as no permission at all. When there is question of any use of confessional knowl-edge which would render the Sacrament more difficult or irksome, that knowledge must be kept just as secretly as though it did not exist. However, besides the case in which ¯ the penite.nt's permission has been freely and unmistakably granted, there is another perfectly licit use of sacramental knowledge. In general, that use is licit which would in no wise deter the faithful from frequenting the Sacrament, even though such use were publicly announced as lawful. When would this~ requirement be verified? This condition would be fulfilled, if a certain use of sacramental knowl-edge were to involve neither the direct nor indirect viola-tion of the seal nor the slightest ~trace of displeasure to peni-tents in general. We may summarize in the following" way the scope of use which is lawful. The use of confessional knowledge is permissible: (1) within the limits of matters which belong 185 EDWIN F. HEALY exclusively to one's own conscience; (2) outside these lim-its, in external a~tions, provided it is certain that there is no danger at all of .revealing the penitent and his sin or Of displeasing him or of making the Sacrament in general less approachable. A confessor, therefore, is allowed to pray for a particular penitent who is known from confession to be gravely tempted. A priest may meditate on his penitents and their faults, in order to be able to advise them more per-fectly. Moreover, a confessor, who has learned through confessions which he has heard thaf certain games have fre-quently ~aused spiritual or temporal ruin, may allow him-self tO be guided by this knowledge in 'avoiding these forms of amusement. A priest may show greater kindness and consideration for a penitent who he knows from confession is severely afflicted, pro.vided of course the confessor's way of acting would not engender suspicion in the minds of observers. Finally, it is well to remember that, if a priest knows about a certain person's recent sins be~:ore he hea~:s his Confession, that individual's act of confessing those sins to this priest ~does not place the confessor's previous-knowledge under the seal. The previous knowledge was and still remains extra-sacramental. The confessor, how-ever, mu~t exercise great prudence in the use of such infor-mati6n. This, then, is the common teaching of theologians regarding the obligation of the seal of confession. ~lust as our divine Lord, "by the pardon of His loving mercy, entirely wipes away and quite forgets the sins which through human weakness we have committed," so the minister of the Sacrament of Penance ieverently guards, e~ven to the shedding of his blood, everything that is mani-fested to him in the secrecy of the confessional. 186 The Discussion on Spiritual Direction The Editors ~oLMOST a year "ago (July, 1942) we published an '~'~ editorial entitle~l Spiritual Direction b~/ the Ordinary Confessor. Our purpose was to stimulate construc-tive discussion of the important topic of spiritual direction. To aid in the discussion, we subsequently published articles On The Need of Direction, Cooperation with Direct(on, Manifestation of Conscience, and The Prudent Use of Con-fession Privileges. During the course of the discussion we received many communications, most of which were pub-lished, at least in digest form. We were unable to publish some letters, and from those published we had to tempora-rily omit certain 13oints. It is now time to make a survey .of the entire discussion. This survey will include not merely the published ma.terial, but the unpublished sugges-tions as well. The reading of the survey will not .entirely supplant the reading of the original articles and communications. The articles developed certain points thoroughly, whereas we can merely touch on them here. The communications cofitained such a variety of suggestions that it seemed impos-sibleto weave them all into one readable article; conse-quently we had to select what appeared to be the most .important. The communications also revealed certain pro-nounced differences of opinion. As we did not wish our survey to be a mere catalogue of such differences, we felt that we had to "take sides," at least to the extent of trying to give a balanced judgment. 187 THE EDITORS ~. Those who have followed the discussion on spiritual direction have no doubt noticed that it gravitated almost dfitirelyto the guidhnce of Sisters. One Brother master of novices sent an excelldnt communication; all the other let-ters were fr6m Sisters or from priests who appeared to be thinking almost exclusively in terms of the direction of Sis-ters. I,n preparing the survey we had to decide on our point of View: should we speak exclusively of the direction of Sisters, or should we keep the matter sufficie~ntly general to include everyone? .We decided to give the survey with Sis-ters principallyin mind; but .we think that religious men who are interested in the matter will find that almost every-thing said here is equally applicable to them. Meaning of Spiritual. Direction In our introductory editorial, We were thinking of spir-itual direction in terms of the definition given by Father Zimmermann in his Aszetil~ (p. 230): "Instruction and encouragemer~t~of individuals (italics ours) on the way of perfection." This definition brings out one element~of spiritual direction that ascetical theologians usually stress: namely, it is individual. This individual, or personal, quality of spiritual direc- ~t-ion excludes such. things as the Commandments of God; the precepts, counsels, and example of- our Lord; the laws of the Church; the constitutions .and rules of a religious institute. All these things may be called spiritual direction in the sense that their give us the plan of a perfect life; but they are .not direction in the technical sense or even in the" ord'.mary popular sense. For the same reason, spiritual reading books and community conferences, even though they help much to clarify our ideas of perfection and stimu-late us to desire progress, cannot be called spiritual direC-tion. 188 SURVEY ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION In their communi~ati0ns many zealous priests have spoken of certain types of "planned instruction" in the confessional. In so far as these instructions are general and the same for all they do not substantially differ from com-munity exhortations. They lack the individual element of spiritual direction. This does not mean that they do not serve a good purpose. Some priests can use them and accomplish much good by them. They do give the peni-tents some generally helpful thoughts; they do remind the penitents that the priest's time is theirs; and they are often the means of breaking down a barrier of reserve and pre-paring ~he way for personal direction. Moreover, such general adm~,nitions; given by a confessor of a religious community, are frequently very helpful in that they enable. theindividual religious to get a good start (for example, in keeping silence better), because all have been urged to do the same thing. All this is negative. It may be summed up by saying that spiritual direction is not general, but" particular, indi-vidual, personal. Its purpose is to help an individual to attain to the degree of perfection to which God is calling him. It supposes, therefore, a knowledge .of.~ the individu-al's own problems and aspirations, of his external cir-cumstances and l'iis tal.ents,~ and of the way the Holy Spirit operates in his soul. In what does direction actually consist? Father Zim-mermann sums it up in two words, "instruction and encouragement." In themselves, tl'iese words are.not ade-quate to express all the functions, of the spiritual director, but they do indicate the two principal ways in which, according to circumstances, he is to exert his influence on his spiritual charge: namely, on the intellect (by instruction), and on the wilt and the emotions (by encouragement). As for his influence on the'intellect, the director's work 189 THE EDITORS may vary from the very active function of telling the indi-vidual what to do and how to do it to the almost passive function of simply approving or disapproving the plans made by the individual. He gives pointed moral and asceti-cal advice, he answers questions, and he corrects erroneous notions. In regard to the will and the emotions, the direc-tor not only encourages, but he consoles in time of sorrow, strengthens in time of weakness, tra.nquillizes in time of dis-tress, and restrains in time of imprudent ardor. In all .these functions, the director must have regard for what he judges to be the designs of God on the soul of the individual com-mitted to his care. ¯ Need ot: Direction Rather pr'onoun'ced differences of opinion wereexpressed in our articles and communications con'cerning the need of direction for religious. In fact, there seems to have been a ¯ great deal of confusion in the discussion of this .topic. Per-haps we can avoid this confusion by referring the subject as definitely as possible to our actual conditions. ~In actual life, most of us are ordinary earnest religious,. not mystics. Hence, we consider here the need of direction for the avera~ge religious. Again, in actual 'life fe~w of us are privileged to have directors with the rare supernatural insight of a St. Francis de Sales. It- would be idle specula-tion for us to consider the need of direction, having in mind a director to whom access would be almost, impossible. Hence, we consider here direction that is normally obtain-able. With the question thus brought within the scope of our ordinary lives, we think it reasonable to uphold this propo-sition: some direction is a practical necessity for the aver: age religious to make safe and constant progress in perfec-tion. This general rule admits of exceptions. God can 190 SURVEY ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION accomplish wonders in the soul without the aid of a direc, tor, but normally God uses.the human means of direction. Also, the general rule applies in different ways to various individuals; the degree and l~ind of help needed, as well as the frequency with which it is needed, will vary greatly. Perhaps the relativity of the need of direction can be seen more dearly by referring back to the functions of the director. " Young religious, particularly novices, are likely to need a great deal of intellectual help. They are unac-custome. d to self-study, to making appropriate resolutions; to choosing useful subjects for the particular examen; and they need guidance in these :matters, lest they waste much time and effort. Ascetical, principles are still merely the: oretical principles to them, and they often need help to see how they apply practically to their own lives. But the dependence on a director for intellectual help should certainly decrease with .the years. Religious who have finished their training and have taken their final vows should be able to plan for themselves; and .their need of the spiritual director, in so far as intellectual help is concerned, should be mainly .for friendly criticism. In other words, these religious plan their own lives, submit their plans to a director for approval or disapproval, and then occasionally make a report on the success or failure of the plan. Natu-ally, we make allowance here, even in the case of mature religious, for occasions when they face new problems or undergo special difficulties. They may need very detailed guidance on .such occasions; In regard to the need of the director's help for the will and the emotions, it is perhaps impossible to give a general rule. True, to a great extent progress in the religious life should develop emotional stability. Nevertheless, the prob-lem is largely an individual one, and quite unpredictable'. Age. does not fr~e us from such trials as discouragement, THE EDITORS loneliness, and. worr, y; indeed, age often accentuates Such trials. At various periods in our lives, most of us need sympathetic help or paternal correction lest we lose heart or' descend to low ideals. Where to Get Direction Granted the need of some direction, a question that pre-sents itself quite naturally is, "Where are we to get this direc-tion?" This question has already been answered, in so far as we can answer it, in previous issues of the REVIEW. What we have said can be capsuled into these three rules: (1) Get what you can from your superiors. (2) Among confes-sors, it isnormally preferable to get direction from the ordi-nary confessor, (3) If the ordinary confessor proves inade-quate, take advanta.ge of one or other privilege accorded by canon law. We suggest these three rules with deference to the special regulations or customs of particular institutes. Some insti-tutes provide a specially appointed spir.itual father; and the institute itself will indicate whether it is desirable that the spiritual father act as confessor or simply give extra-confessional direction. ¯ We have repeatedly mentioned the superior as a possible .source of spiritual direction, as did many of the published communications. -We think that this point calls for special emphasis, because it seems that one of the reactions to the Church's severe condemnation of obligatory manifestation of conscience has. been a swing to th~ opposite extreme, namely, that superiors are too rarely consulted even in mat-ters in which they are both qualified and willing to give advice. Either extreme is an eVil. The present ecclesiastical legislation safeguards what is of prime importance, the per-fect liberty of' the individual. Granted this liberty, much good can come to the superior, the subject, and to the family 192 SURVEY ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION spirit of a community, from voluntary manifestation of conscience. A number of objections have been raised against insistent preference for the Ordinary confessor. Some¯ Sis-ters have pointed out that they have had almost as many ordina.ry confessors as they have lived years in religion; others have said that the ordinary is not interested, does not come on time, does not come regularly,, does not understand their life, and so forth. These are certainly practical diffi-cult. ies. They indicate cases in which a complaint might well 'be lodged with a competent authority, or in which. ifidividuals might profitably and justifiably avail them-selves of one or other of the confessional privileges given by canon law. But the dif[iculties do not detract from the wis-dom of the general rule. Many questions have be,en sent us concerning the advisability of direction by correspondence. ~Fhe general rule given by ascetical masters and, we think, confirmed by many distressing experiences, is that such direction should be either entirely discouraged or reduced to an absolute minimum. It is true that some priests have accomplished great things in this way, and that for some souls it is the only possible way of obtaining genuinely needed help. But it can hardly be approved as a normal practice. It tends t6 consume immense amounts of time, it seldom has the assur-ance of the strict privacy that intimate direction calls for, and of its very nature it is open to grave dangers of mis-understanding, both on the part of the director and on the part of~the directed. Only in rare instances is it a genuine apostolate. How to Get Direction The next logical question is: "How is one to get direc-tion?" This question has been asked often in the course Qf 193 THE EDITORS our discussion; and many bits of helpful advice have been scattered through the communications. The subject is too vast for complete development here. At best we can give only an outline, trying to incorporate the suggestions in some ready and readable form. It may be well to note that the outline will concern only confessidnal direction. ~ .We begin with three p.reliminary negatives. Don't maize "'direction" the principal purpose of gout confession. It is often said --- in fact, so often and by such reliable persons that there 'must be some truth in, it--that many religious do not know how to make a fruitful con-fession. Confession is a Sacrament. It produces its sacra-mental graces in,~ accordance witl~ the ~lisposition of the recipient. Essentially, this disposition is one of true con- .trit.ion; and perhaps the clearest sign of this cdntrition is a sincere purpose of amendment. All people, who confess ¯ frequently and have only small things to tell have p~actical difficulties on this score; there is always the danger that~ their confessions will be routine in the evil sense of this word: that is, they ~onfess with a very vague and indefinite purpose of amendment, with the:result that Penance plays a veiy slight part in .the efficacious bettering of their lives. Yet this is the principal purpose of frequent confession and it can be accomplished, even though the confessor "never gives advice. We have said that this is the first purpose of confession and in itself independent of the "spiritual direc'tion': aspect. We might add, however, that the two can be admirably combined. For instance, if the peniten~t were to tell the confessor: "Father, I want to make my confessions more fruitful, and I'd like your help in going-about it,'"this might be the beginning of the simplest yet sanest program Of spiritual direction possible for most religious. A second "don't" concerns prejudices: Don't be influ- 194 SURVEY ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION enced b~i a prejudice against an~l '~onfessor. " TheSe preju-dices are manifold. For.instance ~ome religious think that the only one who can direct them is another religious; some think that all the good confessors belong to one religious o~der; some, on the contrary, believe that the most sy.mp~- thetic and h~lpful confessors are diocesan priests. We have l~eard/~11 opinions expressed, particularly those concerning confessors from religious orders. An honest judgment must label such opinions as prejudice. The actual facts are that good confessors can be found in fair proportions both among the religious and among the diocesan priests. Other prejudices concern individuals and arise from hearsay. This has been mentioned so frequently in the ~ommunications that it must be somewhat common, par, ticularly among Sisters. No ~onfessor should be judged by gossip; and as for the gossip itself, we feel that we could recommend many more profitable subjects of conversation. Even an unpleasant personal experience with a confes, sor should not be too readily interpreted in a derogatory fashion. One of the most difficult of all priestly works is the hearing of confessions.¯ The technique of doing it--if we may use such an expression--admits of constant improvement. The judgment concerning ask, the tone of voice see the penitent, he is whether the penitent confessor has to exercise exquisite such things as the precise question to to use, the advice to give. He cannot often unhble to judge from the voice is young or old; and at times he gets very little help from the penitent in the way of~clear and unequivocal statement. When troubles concerning other persons are mentioned, he knows that there is another side to the question, and he must give an answer that is fair to both sides. In view of such difficulties, it should not be surprising that a corifessor might occasionally make an unpleasant impression or even seem to misunderstand 195 THE EDITORS one's case. He is the minister of God; he is not God. A-final negative preparation for obtaining direction is this: .Don't expect too r~ucb froma confessor. In the com-munica. tions sent to the REVIEW, many priests expressed their opinion that the confessor should take the initiative and this in a very active way, such as, for example, asking definite questions: "Is there anything you wish to ask me?" "Can I help y.ou in any way?" and so forth. On the other hand, some priests have indicated that they do not approve of this method or at least they could not uie it. We feel justified in concluding that religious-would be unwise to expect such active initiative. Many may want it and feel that they could do better if the confessor would.make some such advance; but if they wait for. this they may never get spiritual direction. They have a right to expect the con= fessor to give help if they ask for it; also that the confessor will even give help spontaneously when something in the confession seems to call for it. These are the minimum essentials 'for all good confessqrs; but beyond these mini-mum essentials, there is a great diversity of practice. ~ ~ On the p6sitive side, the first, requisite for obtaining direction is to u~ant it. This implies a Sincere desire of progress and a willingness to do the hard work necessary for ~progress. One reason why" some confessors do not take the " initiative in this matter is that they know that many peni-ents would resent direction especially if it concerned the correction of certain inordinate attachments or humiliating faults. A second positive preparation for obtaining direction is to know what ~tou want. In other words, one should try to know oneself--one's ideals, talknts, temptations, faults, and so forth. Self-activity is necessary not merely for cooperation with direction but also as a preparation for it. In making the immediate preparation for confession, it 196 SURVEY ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION helps much to say a prayer to the Holy Spirit, both foi one-self and for the confessor. This .is supernatural work or it is nothing. The whole purpose of it is to further the plans of God for individual souls; and, as we know, in God'~ ordinary prdvidence, He wants us to pray even for the things He is delighted to give us. The actual work of "breakifig the ice," especially with a new confessor or with one from whdm they have not pre-viously received spiritual guidance, is a serious problem for many religious. It really need not be a dread formality. Many helpful suggestions have been made in ohr various communications. One suggested ope.ning was: "Father, I should like to use my confessions as a means of making spiritual progress and of getting spiritual direction. Do you mind helping me?" Such an opening puts the priest "on the spot." If he doesn't wish to help, he must say so; and that means that he assumes the responsibility before God. He should not be hearing the confessions of religious. On the other hand, if he is willing to help, the initial difficulty of approach has been solved. Other suggested approaches were: "Father, will you please help me with my spiritual life? I have such and such ups and downs."--"I have trouble in the line of. "--"I j~ust fed the need of talking myself out."--"I know I need help, but I don't know Where to begin." The foregoing, or similar approaches, should be suffi- ¯ cient for any sympathetic priest. However, the mere fact that this initial contact has been made does not solve the entire problem. It may take some time for definite results to be produced; despite the willingness of both penitent and confessor. That is'one, reason why it is good, when pos-sible, for the penitent to have some definite plan to submit to the confessor. This plan need not be very ~omprehensive. Itmight begin with the simple attempt to make confession 197 THE EDITORS itself more fruitful; and from that it could grow out into the entire spiritual, life. Once a. begin.ning.has been made, the me~hod of carrying on the spiritual direction will have to be worked out by the confessor and penitent. In large communities the time element presents a real obstacle. How-ever, it is not insuperable. Very few penitents need direc-tion every week; a brief monthly consultation is generally sufficient. No one should resent it if the confessor were to suggest some method of spacing these monthly consulta-tions so that they would not all fall on the same day. Also, if both penit~ent and confessor understand that there is to be no beating about the bush, and if neither is offended by a certain directness of speech, much time can be saved. In his article on Cooperation with the Director, Father Coogan called attention to certain qualities that should characterize one who sincerely seeks direction. The first of these qualities, is humble candor. It is vain to ask for direc-tion if one does not wish t6 be honest, if one wishes .the director to know only One side of one's life. Along the same line, many correspondents have ~uggested that in con-fessing it is a good thing, even in regard to small faults, to give the confessor a more accurate picture of what has happened by indicating the circumstances and by confessing motives. Evidently such practices are not necessary for the corifession, but they are very helpful from the point of view of direction. It seems thai one obstacle to candor, particularly among Sisters, is an erroneous notion of charity and community loyalty. Many are under the .impression that the manifes-tation of certain difficulties regarding charity and obedience would be an unjustifiable reflection on the members of the community. This would be true if such things were recounted uselessly or if there were danger that the confessor would violate his obligation of secrecy. The danger on the 198 SURVEY (~N SPIRITUAL DIRECTION part of the confessor-is rarely preserit; hence, in ordinary circumstan, ces, the penitent may manifest everything that pertains to his own trials and faults. (Cf. Volume II, p. 141.) Father .Coogan also insisted strongly on docility. And rightly so; for it seems absurd to consult a spiritual director if one does not intend to follow his advice. However, ~this. spirit of docility does not necessarily involve blind obedi-ence, except in cases of severe trial, such as scruples, when one's own judgment is unbalanced. Normally, if one does not understand the meaning of the advice given, one should ask for further explanation rather tl~an try to follow.it irrationally. And if one ha's good reason to think that cer-tain advice would piove harmful or would not produce the desired results, one should mention this to the confessor. Such reasonable cooperation with direction is in perfect accord With humble docility. A. very practical aspect of confessional direction is the follow-up. Usually it is. better that the penitent take the ifiitiative in this. The confessor may be hesitant about referring to the past, lest he be talking to the wrong persbn. Some confessors have no di~culty in this respect, but others find it quite perplexing, even after they have heard the peni-tent's confession a number of times~ To avoid all risk,.the penitent should have a definite understanding .with the con-fessor. No one can give progressive direction without at least recognizing the case. Does it make for better cohfessional'direction if the con-fessor knows his penitents personally? Our communica-tions indicate that religibus are just like seculars in this mat-ter; some prefer to be recognized, others wish to remain unknown. In practice, this rule should .be observed: ant./ penitent who wishes the confessor to recognize him and to use his extra-confessional knowledge of him in giving direr- 199 THE EDITORS tion should make this quite clear and explicit to the cont:es: sot. Unless the penitent does this, the confessor is not likely to show any sign of recognition or take into account any of his personal extra-confessional knowledge of the penitent. , A final problem, especially practical among religioui in our country, concerns the changing of confessors. It often happens that one is just getting a good start or is going along quite nicely with one confessor,, when the religious himself is transferred or a new confessor is appointed. What is to be done? TWO extremes are to be avoided. One ~extreme is to think it necessary to give each new confessor a complete account of one's whole life history. This is surely going too far. Only in rare cases are these lengthy mani-festations really necessary for the confessor, and they are seldom helpful tc~ the penitent. On the other hand, it is not prudent to withhold all ¯ reference to the past from the confessor~ This is the other extreme. The new c6nfessor should be given a brief, but accurate, picture of thd penitent's main tendencies, and should be acquainted with the way in which, the former confessor was directing him. Without this minimum of information there is apt to be needless repetition and no real -progress. Concluding Remarks No doubt, much. remains, to be said about spiritual direction; but we think it best to close our discussion, at least fo'r .the present. Some readers may be under the impression that it is just like .many other discussions: much has been said, yet few definite conclusions have been drawn. Very likely such an impression is not v~thout foundation. Nevertheless, certainly some definite good has been accom~ plis~ed if interest has been stimulated and if some of the 200 SURVEY ON SPIRITUAL DIRECTION causes of misunderstanding and prejudice have been removed. Masters and mistresses of novices, can help to make this discussion fruitful if they see to it that their novices know hox¢ to get and cooperate with direction. Some may fihd the plan suggested by the Brbther master of novices (cf. I, p. 344) or some similar plan very useful. Superiors can ¯ help by seeing that the legitimate complaints of their sub-jects are lodged with the proper authorities and by .making it possible for their subjects to use the special privileges approved by the Church when this isnece.ssary. Some correspondents have told us that no real good can come from this discussion unless we can gdt the message to priests. This is a real difficulty, as we do not have a large number of priest subscribers. However, we know that the priest subscribers we have are interested in this project and that many of them have excellent opportunities to influence their fellow priests and seminarians. We feel sure that" they will help in preserving and propagating the useful points brought out in this discussion. PRAYERS FOR TIME OF WAR Father James Kleist, S.J. of St. Louis University, has composed a little booklet entitled The Great Prayer Noto--in time o[ War. The booklet contains a transla-tion of the Ordinary of the Mass, and translations of the proper parts of the Mass for the Twentieth Sunday after Pentecost, the Mass in Time of War, and the Mass. for Peace. To these, Father Kleist has added some special Collects relating to Divine Providence, and some ~.'ery appropriate comments and reflections. The translation of the Collects is that by Sister M. Gonzaga Haessly, O.S.U., in her Rhetoric in the Sunda~t Collects o~ the Roman Missal (Ursuline College, Cleveland, Ohio: 1938). All thd translations in the booklet are very readable and seem to us to be especially meaningful. The booklet is published by The Queen's Work, 3742 West Pine Blvd., St.Louis, Mo. Price: ten cents a copy. 201 Decisions I-Ioly . ee April .9, 1943: The Sacred Penitentiary issued a decree by which His Holiness, Pope Pius XII, grants a partial indulgence of 300 days, and a plenary indulgence to be gained once a month under the.usual conditions, for the recitation of the following prayer: :'Most Holy Trinity we adore Thee and through Mary offer Thee our petition. Grant to all unity in the faith and ,courage to profess it unwaveringly." April 9, 1943: The Sacred Congregation of Rites reintroduced the cause of ~anonization of Blessed Rose-Philippine Duchesne, of the Society of the Sacred Heart, who was beatified in 1940. This means that new favors considered true miracles have been obtained through her intercession since hei beatification, and have ~been submitted to.the Sacred Congregation of Rites. March 29, 1943: His Holiness, Pope Pius XII wrote a letter to tl~e ¯ president of the A'ssociation of Italian Youth to mark the seventieth anniversary of this Association. !n this letter His Holiness recom-mended reciprocal social concord between all rfiembers of the.associa-tion "to whateeer class or condition 6.f life they may belong; whether they ~e manual laborers or in intellectual employment, whether they be of humble families or of illustrious families and wealthy, let them love one another with Christian love as brothers." While recommending love of country, Pope Pius XII emphasized" the duty of Christians "to embrace the universal human family in the divine love of 2esus Christ, whhtever be their descent or race." tually," His Holiness stated, "love of fatherIand does not exclude or nullify the fraternal community of all peopleL nor does the mutual bond between ~11 men lessen.the love due to one's native land." December 19, 1942: The Sacred Penitentiary issued a decree in ~vhi~h'!t made. known that His Holiness,. Pope Pius XII, has granted a.plenary indulgence to persons in any city or in any other place in time of air raids, who, being contrite of heart, make a true act of love of .God, . and, being sorry for their sins, recite in any language "'2esu miserere mei" ("Jesus, have mercy on me"). The ordinary condi-tion of Confession and Communion is dispensed with; perfect con-trition is necessary and Sufficient. The indulgence may be gainedonly in time of an actual air rhid. 202 Book/ ev ews MORAL GUIDANCE. By the Reverend Edwin F. Healy, S.J.: .S.T.D., Mag. Agg. Pp. xli nL- 351. (Teacher's Manual supplied.) Loyola University Press, Chicago, 1942; $2.00. Father Healy's book c~ontains the essentials of what is ordinarily termed "the first section of Moral Theology." Two preliminary chapters explain the more important general principles of ethics and Christian morality. Subseque~at chapters treat of each of -The Ten Commandments; the Laws of Fast and Abstinence; Forbidden Books; the Duties of 3udges, Lawyers, .Doctors, Nurses, Business-men, and Public Officers. Each chapter contains topics for discussion, practical cases to be solved, and a bibliography. The Teacher's Man-ual offers the teacher plenty of material for the discussions (which generally go beyond' the text) and sound solutions to the cases. The experienced teacher could probably improve on the bibliography. Moral Guidance is primarily a.text for college students who have had general and special ethics. The author's purpose is to make the student more conscious of Christian standards of morality and to enable him to solve the practical moral problems 9f everyday life. In this reviewer's opinion, the book could be taught profitably even to those who.have not had ethics. It would also make a good study club text. Finally, and most important in so far as our readers are con-cerned, it would be a real blessing if a course like this, supplemented by an explanation of the moral obligations pertaining to the Sacraments," were made a standard part of the training of all non-clerical religious, ~ men and women. May God speed the day!~G. KELLY, S.,J. THE PATH OF HUMILITY. By the author of "Spiritual Progress, etc. Pp. 292. The Newman Book Shop, Westminster, Md., 1942. $2.00. This is an anonymous reprint of a widely appreciated treatise on humility by the great French spiritual director, Canon Beaudenom." who died in 19~ 6. Although the book takes the form of a series of meditations, grouped into five weeks, it lends itself, at least, in parts, to straight spiiitual reading, mainly on account of its crisp, li~,ely style. However," allowances must be made for some Gallic exuber-ance, particularly in the prayers. The author presents a rather thor-ough treatment of the virtue of humility, from both the natural and 203 BOOK REVIEWS supernatural points of view. He expresses sdund doctrine, displays a good deal of psychological insight, but could improve considerably in orderliness of presentation. He does not remain merely ifi the abst~ract, but shows how-humility was practised by our Lord, His Blessed Mother, and the saints. He also tells in a practical way how to make humility the basis of one's spiritua~l life and how to focus the ge:neral and particular examens of conscience upon it. All in a11, it is one of the best treatises on humility in English. The Newman Book Shop is doing priests and religious a real servic~ by reprinting this classic ~nd others out of print for some time. To have reedi~ed and modernized them would have been still more ~c.ceptable.--,A. KL^AS, S.3. ST"CHARLES BORROMEO. By the Most Reverend Ceser, Orsenlgo. Trenslated by 'the Reverend Rudolph Kraus, Ph.D., S.T.D. Pp. 340. ¯ B. Herder Book Co., St. Louis, 194:~. $4.00. The literature on St. Charles is extensive. The present work, however is not just "another biography." Seldom are a book's "credentials of such worth. Though presented to English readers (the translation is excellent) in 1943 for the first time, it has been valued as a classic in European countries for many years. Father Agostino Ge-melli, O.F.M.; in the pieface, tells us that "this biography . . . was first published~between 1908 and 1910, appearing at regular times in a.monthly review . . . Monsignor Achille Ratti was the director of this review for twer~ty-six months when he was~Prefect of the Am-brosian Library. One of his chief collaborators in the monthly in-stallments'of this biography was Father Cesare Orsenigo, then engaged in the care of souls in one of the ~most. distinguished city parishes. Monsignor Ratti became Pope Plus XI. Father Orsenigo became Apostolic Nuncio to Germany." That such collaboration on the part of Milanese ecclesiastics, scholars working just where Borromean documents abounded, and giving evidence in their subsequent lives of the profound manner in which they had been influenced and i.nspired by their familiarity with St. Charles--that such collaboration should result in a work of special value, we could confidently expect. That such h~s, in fact, been the result, the serious reader will admit. The book does not make easy reading. The author has ~acrificed whatever would serve only to capture the reader's attention: the -"human interest" tduches that¯ season the usual popular biography 204 BOOK' REVIEWS are not to ArchbishopOrsenigo's taste un'le~s they definitely h;ive more thah entertainment value. The life of the saint is presented, for'the most part, not in chronological order of events, but~as a regrouping of "the rich biographical material topically, into,cl~apters that are dis-tin'ct and complete p!ctures." Each chapter is a study rather than a narrative, and demands attentiv~ reading. Of course, St. Charles led a highly dramatic life, especially from the time of his elevation to the position of Cardinal Secretary of State at the age of twenty-two until his death as the saintly Archbishop of Milan twenty-four years later. But Orsenigo's concern is chiefly with wha~ that life meant for the Church and for the reformation of Christian life. The saint's example is set forth for all Christians, but especially for bishdps and priests-- and it is to this" group of readers that the book. is .specially recom-mended. Religious will find it full of inspiration, and many chapters of particular interest to religiods are admirably suited to community reading. A cover-to-dover reading of the book, however, is hardly advisable as a community project.--C. DEMUTH, S.,I. THE KING;S ADVOCATE. By Simone de Noaillat-Ponvert. Translated from the French by Mary Golden Donnelly. Pp. 260. The Bruce Pub-lishing Company, Milwaukee, 1942. $2.7S. The Feast of Christ the King takes on a new meaning when.one reads the life story of the remarkable Martha de Noaillat, who, as Cardinal Laurenti writes, "worked more than all others" to make t!~at feast a reality. Little was known outside France of her zealous. apostol!c Work until Simone de Noaillat, her sister-in-law, gave the world an intimate picture of this heroic and dauntless woman who overcame all obstacles to achieve her dream. Possessed of'keen intelligence, striking personality, and intense supernatural energy, Mine. de Noaillat early in life underwent, a severe trial in h~r repeated failure to sustain her health in the religious life. When iorced to return home, she found solace in a vigorous lay apostolate of charitieS, teaching, and lectures. During the persecution of the religious orders she assumed a leading r'ole in'a patriotic league of French women whose purpose was to arouse Cath-o! ics to defend their cause. But she discovered her true life work in the "Society of the Reign," which she made vibrate with life when she saw in it the possibility of promoting the establis~hmeni of a feast in honor of Christ the King. In company w~th her husband,'George 205 BOOK REVIEWS de Noaillat, Martha pleaded with bishops, cardinals, and popes until she persuaded them of the urgency of the cause she was championing. Once success had crowned her work, her joy was complete. She did not long survive the first dehbration of the Feast of Christ the King, which she attended in Rome. The biogr.apher has given many details~of Martha's life that reveal her thoroughly human side as well as her spiritual stature: her family concerns, her travels, her notes, her work during the War. There is a little stiffness.or formality in the account of Martha's life up to the time when her sister-in-law came to know her pdrsonally. Then, too, her sanctity is given such an "ivory tower" cast that one is scarcely prepared for her marriage when it comes. But once the biographer knows her as a member of her own family, the. narrative is excellent. The translator succeeds rather well for the most part in turning the original French into smooth, natural English. This book should prove especially interesting as reading in the refectory. --FRANKLIN MURRAY, S.J. JESUS AND I. Revlseci Leaflet Edition. By the Reverend Aloyslus J. Heeg, S.J. Pp. 216. The Queen's Work, SI'. Louis, 1942. I set-- $.50: 3--$1.00: 25--~-' $7.50: 100---$25.00; 1000--$200.00. The main feature of this new leaflet edition is the ificorporation of the First Communion Catechism prepared from The Revised Edi-tion- of The Baltimore Catechism. The entire text of the latter is given and is used in conjunction with Father Heeg's text, with questions and games throughout. Each lesson contains essential features of Father Heeg's well-recognized system: l) an outline picture to be colored and which is used as a focal point for teaching a particular lesson: 2) the game of "What is left out?" consisting of the very psychological method of questioning called "fill.ins"; and 3) a set of further questions which again review the child's knowledge of Father Heeg's text and the" Revised Baltimore, Use.of this booklet has "already giyen many teachers of children convincing evidence and confidence that the author is a master child-psychologist and a teacher of teachers. The text mhy be used as a correspondence course (its original pur-pose), for homework, workbooks, tests, or as a guide to the" proper method of teaching the essentials of the catechism, the meaning of the prayers and the life of Christ.---A. LEVET, S.J. 206 BOOK REVIEWS THE LARKS OF UMBRIA. By Alber~ Paul Sch|mberg. Pp. 237. The Bruce Publishing Company, Miwaukee, i942. $2.75. ~With a-storyteller'.s approach, the author sets forth a vivid nar-rative that is meant to catch the reader's attention by its freshness and dramatic effect. In this way, the tale of the little poor man ,is told again, and we see Francis of Assisi and his first companions brought' to life as. they live and a3reach the things of the Gospel, new and old. Like the larks of Umbria, Francis's much admired friends, the mir~ores sing of God and God's creation, a spectacle to men and angels in their flight to God. Thus, unlike pedantic and laborious studies which have cast .introspective gloom over the story of the earl~r Franciscans,. .this book is an ad hoc attempt to interpret in the spirit of the Fioretti, the. single-mindedness of a man who startled the contemporary world by the way he saw eye to eye with God. Many of the old legends are repealed, but there is no mistaking them for historical fact, and the author is to be highly commended for his clever animation of the dead bones of history by the infusion of .simple and lifelike tales that breathe the spirit of the Poverello. In keeping with an idyllic love story, the author has set himself to a much higher task than a repetition of well-known facts, and those who want to see the sunshine of God in their saints should find satis-faction in this artistic portrayal. Readers of this book will find the illustrations in a class of their own, and will be able to choose further reading on the subject from the appended English bibliography. --F. 3". MALECEK, S.,J. THE BETTER LIFE.The True Meaning of Terfiar;sm. By the Reverend Kil;an J. Hennrlch, O.F.M.Cap. Pp. x-~-326. Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., NewYork, 1942. $2.50. The whole inner splendor, the. excellence of Tertiarism must b~ derived from its purpose. All Third Orders Secular aim at one thing: to assist seculars, non-religious, in keeping inviolate their Baptismal promises. Tertiarism, therefore, appears as more excellent, as more appealing when seen, not in its historical or juridical aspects, but in its theology. Since Tertiarism was devised to insure the fruitfulness of B~p-tism, it is intimately connected with all the means of grace. Its the-ology, then, must be enunciated in the function of the Sacraments. Such, briefly, is the outlook taken by the author of The Better Life, 207 Book REVIEW~ His development takes the following fo~m: a section of the book is devoted to the task of showing how the Tertiary Rule is related to each Sacrament. Baptism, for example, is compared to the Third Order ritual for investment. Baptism initiates a soul into the Church: investment introduces one into an Order of penance. Promises to love God and shun the works of Satan are exacted in both rituals. Perti-nent quotations from the Tertiary Rule show h6w minute obliga-tions assumed, by Third Order member~ are really means of avoiding the effects of the capital sins. All the Sacraments are treated in this way. In addition to these sections, which constitute the body of book, there are two additional chapters and two appendices: "Making Tertiarism Known," "A Postscript to Religious," "Tertiarism in General," "Tertiarism and Catholic Action." The book will appeal most to Tertiary directors and those' already familiar with Third Orderqife. Too much previous knowl-edge of Tertiarism is presumed by the author to warrant the judgment that the general reader would find the book helpful. ~T. C. DONOHUE, S.J., FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE. By the Reverend Gerald T. Brennan. Pp. 126. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1942. $1.75. Children from six to sixty love a story. Story telling is admit-tedly the most ancient of-arts and it was going on before the time of Homer. All great literature is but story telling. The Divine Teacher, 2esus Christ, in His infinite wisdom deemed it His most potent weapon in His teaching. His' stories remain unsurpassed masterpieces. In For Heaven's Sake, Father Brennan again wafts us to Angel City and spins tales of irresistible vividness and appeal; he tells true stories, outlandish stories, fairy stories, legendary stories, old stories, new stories and any other kind you can think of with an unerring instinct forthe right details.-He uses familiar names like Father Duffy, Knute Rock~ae, Aberdeen Angus, and unearths ear-catching ones, like Peewee the Frpg, Smir the Devil, and White Cloud, which of themselves will enthrall the youngster. But this book is more than stories. It contains 35.effective ser-monettes, "Little Talks for Little Folks." Each story is a point of departure for.Father Brennan's inimitable treatment df topics for mod-ern children; he solves their problems, and indicates their duties by 208 BOOK REVIEWS imiking them ~ee, l~ear, and feel the cl~ara~te~ of :his ~ stories. He stresses the Heaven of For Heaoen's Sake. A conveniefit index list~ the wide range of topics. 'This little book will be found practical and delightful by priests, Sisters, parents, children and anybody. ~A. LEVET, S.J. WE WISH TO SEE JESUS. By Paul L. Blakely,~ S.J. Pp. xi -1- 144. The America Press, New York, 1942. $2.00. "The hour will come when the last sands of our life are running out. Happy shall we be if we have spent those moments we call life with our eyes fixed., on God. In that hour we shall see Him." Since concluding his reflections on the last'Sunday after Pentecost ~with these wor

This essay continues with a discussion concerning the intersection between indigenous technological adoption/adaptation and the range of perspectives with respect to local communities' use of technology in general. Analytical instruments will be presented at the end of this article. First, however, the reader will have the opportunity to examine the 'views' of outsiders with respect to the debate surrounding sustainability, environmental management and territorial ordering. Responses to an on-line survey concerning the above issues together with my own comments, will add to the discussion. ; Gestión ambiental; Ordenamiento Territorial; Sostenibilidad; TIC; Usos ; 1 TECHNOLOGY IN NORTHWEST AMAZONIA (NWA) VIEWS OF VIEWS: SUSTAINABILITY, ENVIRONMENTAL MANAGEMENT AND TERRITORIAL ORDERING A contribution to a Political Ecology for Northwest Amazonia1 This essay continues with a discussion concerning the intersection between indigenous technological adoption/adaptation and the range of perspectives with respect to local communities' use of technology in general2. Analytical instruments will be presented at the end of this article. First, however, the reader will have the opportunity to examine the 'views' of outsiders with respect to the debate surrounding sustainability, environmental management and territorial ordering. Responses to an on-line survey concerning the above issues together with my own comments, will add to the discussion. Aims Initially there were two aims behind the construction of a website. One of was to overcome impediments to my personal mobility and direct access3. ICT facilitated communications with other interested people and helped solicit their views on indigenous management of the forest and their opinions with respect to the process of territorial ordering in Amazonia. The other aim was to serve the process of opening up political opportunities for NWA's inhabitants. Grassroots organisations all around the globe were (and are) establishing links through ICT. The indigenous peoples of Amazonia may attempt the same and this experience could, in the future, be an instrument of education for NWA. The introduction of such technology among indigenous peoples, if possible, will have impacts, which will to be judged as positive or negative, depending of the political interests of the observer and the moment of observation. It is argued here, that despite there being no indisputable positive or negative effects of technological transfer, it would be contrary to indigenous people's rights to self-determination to prevent the promotion of ICT among them. We wish to question conservative forces: if governments, corporations, NGOs and even international drug dealers and terrorist groups are using ICT to fortify their political positions, why should indigenous peoples be denied access to it? The access (or lack of it) of grassroots organisations to ICT facilitates (or impedes) the 1 The author wishes to thank: Jim Connor and Mark Bennett of Imperial College, the former for his advice on the use of Arcview-GIS and the latter for helping to write the cgi-script form for the website. Thanks are also due to: Stuart Peters from the University of Surrey for training in Web- Page design; Adriana Rico from Páginas.Net for valuable advice during the design process and Alvaro Ocampo for a detailed critique of Kumoro.com before it went live. I also wish to thank the Board of Puerto Rastrojo Foundation, which gave me permission to use their vegetation map as a base for the Yaigojé vegetation map that appears on the web-site. Finally thanks to all the people that took the time to fill out the on-line survey. Their contributions made this chapter possible. 2 This discussion was introduced in "Technology in Northwest Amazonia: Sketches from Inside" (Forero 2002b). 3 A restriction of one of the scholarships the author was granted as well as guerrilla incursions at the time, prevented the author from going back to NWA. 2 development of their rights to be informed (and educated) in accordance with the actual historical context of a globalising corporate economy and cultural hybridisation. For indigenous peoples, as well as for other ethnic minorities, financial resources to set up ICT are extremely limited compared to those of corporations, governments and even NGOs. The establishment of an ICT network for indigenous peoples' organisations in NWA remains a Utopia. But without a Utopian vision there is no aim for social mobilisation; this is something that was underlined by responses to the on-line survey. Fieldwork in NWA involved the author in the territorial ordering process, helping with the formation of indigenous people's organisations, and getting involved in communities' economic and educational projects. My work in NWA can thus be characterised as participatory action research (PAR) and one way of continuing to engage in PAR without going back to the field was to set up a website, wait for an opportunity to share my experience with the people of NWA and promote projects that would allow them to take over the website and use it for their own projects4. Deconstruction of an Internet generated discourse Elsewhere the author has dealt with descriptions and deconstructions of discourses of indigenous and institutional organisations, be they NGOs, churches, governmental or international. This process of deconstruction has included the author's own work among indigenous organisations and NGOs, which was one of the aims of "Indigenous knowledge and the scientific mind: activism or colonialism?" (Forero 2002a). I wish to explain the inclusion of governmental and non-governmental organisations within the category 'institutional'. There are great differences as well as important coincidences in governmental actions and the work of NGOs in developing countries due to the limited nature and poor quality of State-driven action in such nations. E.g. in Colombia, COAMA, the largest NGO network in NWA, has been involved in the political administrative reforms, and served as a consultant in matters of education, health and sustainable production. Furthermore, COAMA staff accompanied indigenous peoples in all these processes and without their intervention it is doubtful that many of the indigenous political organisations of Amazonia would ever have succeeded in their quest for legal recognition5. NGOs and governmental institutions may pursue similar political aims and share administrative structures. Inasmuch as small organisations are successful, (and usually this success is a result of strong personal commitment to a cause and personal knowledge of all members of the organisation), they tend to obtain more funds, which in turn forces them to become increasingly bureaucratic. As 4 At the time of writing (May 2002) the author was preparing to visit NWA at the invitation of indigenous leaders, including the Co-ordinator of an education committee who wanted to discuss the roll of ICT in education. 5 See Forero, Laborde et al. 1998 and the interview with the director of COAMA Martín von Hildebrand, in The Ecologist 2002 (Vol. 32 No.1-February). 3 organisations grow, individual members have fewer opportunities to get to know each other personally and maintain an accordance of principles, aims and political means. This is not to say that NGOs are condemned to be inefficient bureaucratic institutions, (which is not uncommon among developing countries' governmental institutions). But it is important to draw attention to the risk that when resources are pumping in and recruitment is growing there is more chance of becoming detached from grassroots sensibilities with respect to issues and less chance of correctly interpreting local developmental idioms. Views of Indigenous Environmental Management The design, production and publishing of a website on the development of a political ecology for NWA, taking the Yaigojé Resguardo as a study case, may seem a very simple task with little impact. But it proved to be a very delicate matter that involved exhausting work. The production of a map of the Yaigojé Resguardo, (which was to be included on the website) has been explained elsewhere, although it is worth mentioning something about the methodology involved. The author accompanied shamans (who were selected by indigenous leaders from the Apaporis) on several trips in which all the recognised sacred places of the Apaporis River and some of its tributaries where identified. The shamans learn the names of the places during their training. These names are recited in myths, chants and spells. The shamans carry, as they say, the map within themselves. It is impressive to see these men point to a place and give its name without hesitation. It is like this even when they have never been in that place before. It is impressive that this orally transmitted geography corresponds so precisely to the physical aspects that start to become relevant for people who, like the author, have different epistemological instruments for their interpretations of the world. While visiting the sacred places shamans spoke of trips they had made previously. In the case of shamanistic trips, visits did not actually involve physical journeys, but what were referred to as trips en pensamiento, en espíritu (in thought, in spirit). While accompanying them I recorded the geographical co-ordinates using a satellite guided geographical positioning system (GPS). The geographical co-ordinates thus generated were converted to plane co-ordinates and a map was generated using AUTOCAD software. Translations, drawings and reflections about this map-making process are included in a MSc thesis of the University of Warwick (Forero 1999). The work I will describe now, although partially derived from my work with the shamans is distinct in character and intention from that reported in Forero (1999). The use of technological gadgetry allowed me partially to reflect the Tukano world in a way that non-indigenous people could understand. And although this was a significant and, I believe, useful undertaking the real knowledge of the territory lies within the shamans with whom I worked. The fact that the 'indigenous territorial' aspects of the website are illustrated with maps is a by-product of the technology. A more significant value of the work (and the reason behind the shamans' wish to become involved in mapping) is that the maps were going to provide evidence for the legal process through which the ACIYA 4 indigenous organisation would claim rights over lands outside the recognised Resguardo Indigenous Reserve (Forero, Laborde et al. 1998). This work was successful and an extension to the Resguardo was indeed granted. Work on the website began by making a provisional outline of the desired end product. The original plan included six pages: Introduction (Home), vegetation map, traditional territorial map, discussion (an introduction to the political ecology of the Yaigojé Resguardo), bibliography (for those looking for references to NWA and the Yaigojé in particular), and a questionnaire that would generate the information from which this chapter has been developed6. The contrasting discourses obtained from the questionnaires Although I shall refer to percentages in this section, there is no intention of making any predictions based on statistical analyses. Neither is it suggested that the analysis of questionnaires can provide an objective account of outsiders' opinions with respect to the politics of the environment and people of NWA. The following notes are not representative in that sense and such was never the intention of the exercise. What is intended is that the reader gets an insight into the perceptions of survey respondents. What is important in a qualitative data analysis, like this, is to present differential tendencies. If discourses are constituents of reality then the confusing scenario of political confrontation in NWA should be linked to the visions and perspectives of all of us, including the views of people that have never been in Amazonia but nonetheless hold an opinion. And, if there is a marked difference between indigenous and exogenous perspectives with respect to sustainability and environmental management in Amazonia, which relates to whether people have visited NWA or not, this should be reflected in the answers to the surveys. The information generated from the on-line survey was collected between May and December of 2001. Eight hundred invitations were sent through e-mail. They were sent mainly to academics and organisations working on indigenous issues, conservation or sustainable development in NWA. One of these invitations reached COLNODO7 and the ICT network asked if we wished to submit the website in a weekly contest for the best new website, which we did and subsequently won! This meant that COLNODO subscribers were notified and invited to visit the site. But we have no idea how many hits were derived from COLNODO invitation. What we know is that during these 8 months we received 51 completed survey forms. This is a 6.4% response rate to the original 800 invitations8. 6 The survey form is in Appendix 1and, a summary of the technical work involved in the construction of the web-site is in Appendix 2. 7 "COLNODO is a Colombian communications network serving organizations dedicated to community development. It is operated by the non-profit organization called Colombian Association of Non-Governmental Organizations for Email Communication" (http://www.colnodo.org.co/summary_english.html). For a critical review of COLNODO work the interested reader could consult Gómez, R. 1998. 8 This response rate is rather low relative to postal questionnaire surveys, but we are unable to assess it relative other on-line surveys. 5 For the purposes of the analysis respondents (R) were divided into two groups: those claiming to have visited NWA (VA – 29% of R) and those claiming not to have visited the region (NVA – 71% of R). With respect to occupation, 68% of R come from the academic sector, including five anthropologists (almost 10% of R) all of whom had visited NWA. In contrast, although there were the same number of environmental managers as anthropologists answering the questionnaire, none had visited NWA. With respect to gender, the percentage of male (53%) and female (47%) respondents is similar across both VA and NVA groups. In terms of age, there were four groups: 1) 18 to 24, 2) 25 to 34, 3) 35 to 50, and 4) over 50. For R the percentages were: 8%, 47%, 35% and 10% respectively. The majority of respondents belong to the second group, between 25 to 34 years of age. However with respect to age groups the composition of VA and NVA groups differs: 56% of the NVA group belong to this second age cohort (25-34), while the majority of the VA group (47%) is between 35 and 50. Additionally, 13% of the VA group are over 50. 61% of the NVA group are between 18 and 34 years of age, while 60% of those that have visited Amazonia are over 35. A comparison of age among the survey respondents thus shows that those that have visited Amazonia (VA) tend to be older than those that have not (NVA). To distinguish among the views held by survey respondents we have to present the responses to each of the questions of the survey. We have made some associations of responses with the intention of outlining the different tendencies that we identify, but the reader might identify others. Before we do so a word about the view of respondents with respect to the website itself should be said. Website evaluation An evaluation of the web-site made by users was included in the questionnaire. Respondents were asked to rate the site between four categories: poor, fair, good and excellent. These categories were chosen as follows: 0, 2, 32 and 15 respectively. Two of the respondents did not offer a rating for the site. Additionally, respondents had the opportunity to suggest improvements. Some respondents suggested changes in design: modification of fonts and colours (some changes had already taken place). There were those who asked for more pictures, a photo album, more links and the construction of a chat room. With respect to the content, some wanted more ethnographic data, another more on political ecology, others asked for better visibility of the maps, while others called for additional links to related sites, and/or more information in general. One suggestion was to make the website less personalised, while another expressed interest in knowing more about the author's research project. Others asked for an enhanced bibliography. Some changes had already taken place by the time these comments were analysed but further changes are still being undertaken at the time of writing. With respect to the questionnaire, two people suggested larger windows to facilitate vision and to be able to comment largely, in contrast, another suggested encouraging more 'yes/no' responses. An important suggestion was: "Perhaps it is now appropriate to include some questions on communication 6 and information flows" (S52). Although not sought explicitly, information was gathered with respect to the use of ICT in the territorial ordering process of Amazonia. One of the respondents suggested that in future the website should be used by indigenous peoples of the Yaigojé. This has been the intention of the author, which has made a visit to Yaigojé (summer 2002) with intention to advance in that direction. Access to ICT for the indigenous peoples of the Yaigojé Resguardo is very limited but present. Future modification of the site will respond to indigenous peoples' feedback. During the visit few indigenous people gave their opinions on the website but several discussions on the roll of ICT in developmental processes took place9. Q1 - Are development and sustainability compatible? A clear response to Question 1 was that this depends on the definition of both terms: "It is impossible to answer this question as it is, as both terms are open to interpretation… " (S26). The question could have been and was read as: Is sustainable development attainable? Respondent S26 continued: "I think sustainable development is possible but hard to achieve in an environment of often conflicting interests and values (economic vs. environmental vs. cultural.)… " One respondent (S22) did not answer this particular question, and two others seemed to be confused (S38 and S41). Forty respondents (78% of R) answered that they were or could be compatible, although there are differences in the way they perceived this compatibility. Development first There were few respondents that failed to question the meaning of 'development' as concept or practice: the developmental project. These responses somehow postulated that certain environmental concerns should be acknowledged and dealt with in order for the development processes to continue: "Yes… . Development as the integration of western technologies or increase of income per capita, can be carefully done by implementing appropriate technologies into the productive activities of the communities. Sustainability defined as a continuous productivity level over the long term." (S2); "Yes. It is only a question of integration of environmental considerations in all we do and adjustment of behaviours accordingly." (S12); "Yes, because there can never be sustainability without development. People have, first to develop for them to have a sense of sustainability." (S13); "Yes, I do. The point is how you can reach a determinate "state" of development without undermining financial, ecological and human capacities in a determinate site (or taking into account their characteristics)." (S40) SD: human - environmental security There were others that perceived the compatibility or the possibility of sustainable development as the chance to diminish human/environmental security risks: "Yes of course in the long run - otherwise life is not possible." (S18); 9 The author is currently preparing a report that will summarise some of these discussions. 7 "Yes. Both are necessary for the survival of the area." (S21); "Si. Solo las acciones en el hoy nos pueden garantizar acciones en el mañana. (Yes. Only by taking action now we can guarantee we could act tomorrow)." (S23); "Yes, development should always be sustainable otherwise there are costs that are not taken into account. i.e. cost of pollution" (S39); "We don't have any choice. We have to make development and sustainability compatible as it's the only way we can survive and at the same time preserve the earth for future generations." (S42) Pessimism, in the sense that without SD life will no longer be possible, was to be repeated in the responses to all of the survey questions. Sustainability is an aim The majority of the respondents that believed development and sustainability to be compatible or capable of becoming compatible, were also of the opinion that the goal of sustainable development had not yet been achieved. Some of them discussed requisite conditions for achieving sustainability. They either underlined the importance of accepting sustainability as a guiding principle for development policy and interventions or/(and) exemplified ways in which sustainable practices might be instituted: "They have to be. I think they are because they have to be. I am optimistic that eventually it will be seen as natural to have sustainable development, but the problem is when this attitude kicks in." (S3) "Depends on how you define the two terms. If you mean that human quality of life can improve while maintaining the natural resource base, I think this is possible but very difficult to achieve." (S5) "Yes, but development in qualitative and not in quantitative terms." (S8) "Yes… there can be sustainable development in an ecological sense of the word - which means installing 'best ecological practice' in planning development." (S24) "No solo lo creo sino que estoy seguro que ambos pueden ser compatibles. Un desarrollo sin considerar ciertos indicadores de sustentabilidad/ sotenibilidad no es posible o viceversa. Uno y otro deberan de ir al parejo tratando de limar los conflictos que a menudo surgen cuando se pretende no un desarrollo pero un crecimiento economico sin considerar la parte social/cultural o ecologica. (Not only I believe that the two can be compatible, I am certain. Development without considering certain indicators of sustainability is impossible or vice versa. Both should go hand in hand, trying to solve the social, cultural and ecological problems that often arise when economic growth rather than sustainable development is the goal)." (S 25) "Sim, no alto rio Negro onde trabalho a ideia e essa: implementar um programa regional de desenvolvimento indedgena sustentado. (Yes, in the Upper Black River, where I work, the idea is precisely to implement a regional programme for sustainable indigenous development)" (S29) "Yes they are. The problem is with the material and energy growth and its compatibility with some environmental standards, like critical thresholds and so on." (S35) "Yes. The only way is by avoiding rapid over-development and having good planning."(S37) ".El concepto de desarrollo sostenible lo veo mucho mas como algo a lo que se quiere llegar, es una nocion implementada por parte de las politicas gubernamentales y ong's donde lo que se 8 procura con estos es el aprovechamiento al maximo de los recursos con un minimo impacto ambiental y social. (I see the concept of sustainable development as goal towards which we heading. It is an idea implemented through governmental and non-governmental policies which aim at maximum exploitation of resources with a minimum of environmental and social impacts)." (S48) "Yes, because they represent the best option to keep for human life." (S51) The need for local definitions Among the respondents that considered sustainability and development compatible if certain conditions were met, there is group of responses that emphasised the need for local definitions of 'sustainability' and 'development', or 'sustainable development': "They can be compatible providing that development is targeted at the right level i.e. small scale and in-keeping with the natural resources and environment." (S5) "Depende de las condiciones y del desarrollo para quién? Por lo tanto el desarrollo es sostenible si es buscado y logrado por la misma comunidad local (It depends on the conditions and on the question 'Development for whom'? Development can only be sustainable if it is sought and implemented by the local community itself)" (S20) "Yes but mainly if made through indigenous methodologies in their territories in Amazonia" (S27) "Yes. There is work done in northern Scandinavia where the "sammi" (lapps) have been given economical support and encouraged to create their own parliament. They have programs protecting their way of life, language and customs. The Norwegian broadcasting company NRK sends news in the language and coastal dialects. All this, at least for Norwegian sammi (lapps) has been key factors in late developments where communities have developed economically achieving great sustainability, contributing, not only to their well being, but to the sustainability of the inhospitable sub-artic regions." (S31) "Yes - but only if there is an 'appropriate' deployment of tools, techniques and processes of development in line with local community needs." (S52) Semantics and the economic imperative Interestingly, one respondent was very pessimistic about the possibilities for sustainable development even when it was sought and pursued at the local level. This respondent brought into the equation the idea that people are driven by monetary benefits to deplete their environment, even though they know that such practices are unsustainable: "To a certain degree, yes. I think that monetary considerations will always outweigh humanitarian concerns and it is very hard to convince people who are seeking a living from sometimes-meagre resources that it is in their own good to give consideration to long-term sustainable use of their resources. It is usually easier and cheaper to move on to the next area when one area has been depleted." (S17) This last argument derives from a rationality that considers poor people to be collaborators in their own misery. In this particular response there was no questioning of the developmental project or the social structures within which people are stimulated to act regardless of the future; but it did address 'monetary considerations' as the driving force. 9 Those responses that argued that the concepts are incompatible claimed an intrinsic contradiction in "sustainable development": "Development of any kind cannot sustain anything." (S4). Instead of blaming the people (needy or not), the proponents of incompatibility pointed their fingers at 'the system'; contemporary capitalist structures, the current developmental project and the prevailing economic model are seen as unavoidably contrary to sustainable practices: "No because development is premised upon economic gain, and capitalism is inherently unsustainable" (S10); "The problem with sustainability is that the economic model is not compatible with social, economic and ecological aspects at the same time and proportion. The neo-liberal model promotes the economic aspect leaving as secondary the social and ecological." (S19); "No, because development does not imply a recognition of limits or the necessity to preserve the natural and human resources used to achieve it. It is an economic concept, which has bases in the apparently unlimited uses of resources… " (S47); "… Si lo entemos [desarrollo] como crecimiento economico, por supuesto que no son compatibles. Ya que el crecimiento economico, tal y como lo plantean los economistas, excluye de raiz criterios sociales, culturales y ambientales requeridos para la sustentabilidad." (If we understand development as economic growth, of course they [sustainability and development] are not compatible. This is because economic growth, as economist have brought it up, excludes from its bases the environmental, cultural and social requirements of sustainability)" (S34) S.D. inconsistent with the present There are less radical rejections of the compatibility, which do not portray sustainable development as a contradiction itself but rather as inconsistent with current economic and ecological trends. The point such respondents make is that the necessary conditions for sustainable development are currently, rather than inherently unattainable: "… The current model of industrial development, where 'development' means material economic growth, is unlikely to be sustainable on a long term basis for the majority of the world population." (S1) "Present development of our world is clearly not sustainable" (S33) "Yes, they are compatible. But in a different social and economic order, not in the one the world is living now… " (S36) "Yes, if we change the way development is understood, for instance, development is associated to living styles resembling to those Europe and USA have, which are a lot related to consumption. But we could live in a healthier and more compatible way with our environment if we change our pattern of consumption and the generalised idea of development nowadays, it would be turning it into "only use what I need and get from nature, exclusively this, not until I just can't get anymore from it", 'cause I over pressed the place, to obtain more benefits. So, at last, this could be possible but in the long term, I hope not when there's nothing left to do." (S45) 10 Greening politics Some responses expressed doubts about the compatibility of sustainability and development. These doubts arise from the apparent use of "sustainability" as a green rhetoric, the aim of which is the continuation of projects that degrade the environment or human rights: ". usually development translates into cutting down natural habitats without regard to "sustaining" cultures" (S32); "In theory 'yes' but much depends on the definition of the terms and societies' acceptance of equal human rights and obligations to others." (S7) "Los conceptos de desarrollo y de sostenibilidad resultan ser bastantes amplios y ambiguos. En la mayoria de los casos cuando se plantean proyectos de desarrollo se trata de relacionarlos directamente con proyectos que resulten ser favorables para el medio ambiente. Como si un concepto llevara implicito otro, sin embargo creo que lo que se esta haciendo desde hace algunos años es precisamente disfrazar los proyectos de desarrollo para que sean aprobados bajo el nombre de mantenimiento del medio ambiente." (The concepts of sustainability and development are very ambiguous. In the majority of cases, there is an attempt to portray development projects as environmentally friendly[, a]s if one concept implied the other. However, I believe that what has been happening for the last few years is a camouflaging of development projects, in order to get them approved under the heading of environmental management) (S48). Reflections on responses to Q110: If "all development is not 'absolute' but will have a beginning and an end" (S24) then, "[d]evelopment of any kind cannot sustain anything." (S4). The impossibility of re-establishing high quality energy after it has been transform into low quality energy (or entropy) is a characteristic feature of closed systems, this would leave us with a world in decline where there is no possibility of sustaining anything. It could be argued that this is the case, as we cannot even guarantee perpetual solar energy flow. But this is perhaps taking the concept of sustainability too far, leaving us with no possibility for discussion. The central political discussion arising from the different responses revolves around the contradiction between those arguments of compatibility that leave the development project unquestioned and those that reject any possibility of compatibility because of a profound questioning of development. Between the two, the picture is blurred, undefined, open and elusive. There does not appear to be any significant correspondence between the two opposite groups of respondents in relation to whether they have been in Amazonia or not. Three out of five of the respondents claiming that there is absolutely no compatibility between development and sustainability have been in Amazonia; but so have two out of four of the respondents that left the development project unquestioned. However, it may be of some significance that none of those that accepted 'sustainable development' are related to social sciences. Those respondents with academic backgrounds in the social sciences all fit into groups 10 A schematic summary can be found in Table 1, Appendix 3. 11 that see sustainable development as a principle, something to be defined locally or as a reformist greening of politics. None of them were found in the group arguing for absolute incompatibility. The middle ground, where the picture is most blurred, came from the majority of respondents by whom it was argued that sustainable development may be possible but that they were unsure about how it might be achieved. Although these responses varied from those expressing suspiciousness (those pointing out the rhetoric of sustainability) to hope: "They have to be. I think they are because they have to be". This acceptance of a possibility of sustainable development, despite the semantic contradiction and current political rhetorical manipulation of the term, reflects a process of thinking and acting that is deeply rooted in Utopian beliefs. This 'sustainability' will happen in the future, in another time, when local communities take control of their lives and their resources, when environmental protection is taken seriously, when today's actions reflect our responsibility toward the future, etc. According to one of the respondents even continuous increases in productivity will be possible, when the proper technology has been developed. Q2 - Is there a relationship between indigenous reserves (IR) and protected areas (PA)? In Colombia IR are called "Resguardos Indígenas" or "Resguardos de Tierras". The term resguardo, literally means protection. Its meaning is not too different from that given to natural conservation areas of different grades: áreas protegidas, protected areas (PA). Both, IR and PA, emphasise the need for an area to be specially protected. Some of the respondents of this question pointed out an implicit relationship between IR and PA perhaps departing of this meaning: "… In a general sense, indigenous reserves are protected areas; they are protected from outside influence for the benefit of the indigenous people… " (S1); "Yes there are relationships. Both have natural systems and environmental quality that requires some level of conservation and protection" (S9); "Yes , for obvious reason. Because the protected reserves are a birth child of indigenous reserves and because we do not want to lose the nature environment the relationship should be maintained." (S13); "Yes, indigenous reserves are protected areas" (S28) As in the case of Q1 (Do you think that development and sustainability are compatible?) some respondents pointed out that it would depend on what we understand by the two terms: "Depends on the sort of protected area or what we mean with protected area… " (S25). "There could be" (S38); "It could be, but I am not sure" (S46); "… this has to be context specific" (S1). Five respondents simply said "yes" (S37, S18, S22, S43, S50) and one simply said "no" (S15). However many of the respondents did go on to qualify the relationship in some way. 12 Harmony or the need for it Some of the affirmative responses portrayed indigenous peoples as the guardians of the environment while others offered concrete examples of this viewpoint: "Si. Las culturas indigenas han demostrado que sus culturas han vivido armonicamente con su entorno durante miles de años" (Yes. Indigenous peoples have demonstrated that their cultures have lived in harmony with their environment during millennia). (S23); "Empirical evidence through statistical analysis has shown (particularly in Colombia in the north west region of the Sierra Nevada) that there is a direct relation between conservation and indigenous reserves. So, the answer is "yes, I do think so". (S40) There were those that referred to the need for a harmonic relationship because: 1) the environment should be protected for the benefit of indigenous peoples: "… indigenous reserves are related with spaces or areas that the government leaves for indigenous people and protected areas are where the local authorities or government provide the ($) resources in order to protect them" (S19); "Existe una relación, historica y cultural, respecto a su territorio, esto debe ser respetado y protegido para las mismas comunidades indigenas" (There is an historic and cultural relationship with respect to their territories. This should be respected and protected by indigenous communities for their own sake (S20). 2) the protection is fundamental for biodiversity conservation: "… Podria ser que se proteja un area porque existe cierta flora o fauna que esta en peligro de extincion. Por ejemplo, muchos animales que viven en la selva solo se aparean una vez al año en cierta temporada y si estos son interrumpidos por presencia humana su decendencia podria verse aun mas en peligro de extincion… " (It may be that an area is protected because there are endangered flora or fauna. For example, there are many rainforest animals that mate once a year or seasonally; if they are interrupted by human activities their progeny could be further endangered) (S25); "… development there should be restricted for the sake of conservation" (S33) 3) sustainable practices could be developed based on indigenous peoples' experiences: "Yes. By protecting areas where almost all indigenous people are more and more confined, there will be a way to preserve indigenous experiences in order for these experiences to contribute to a sustainable development." (S11). Utopia There were also those sorts of answers that reflected a feeling of hope or a sense of Utopia, in which a harmonic, positive relationship was acknowledged as desirable but not yet achieved: "I imagine IR to equate with PA in some way. Perhaps naively. IR is implicitly protected from external development forces, but not necessarily internal." (S3); "There can be. If people are continuing a way of life that has been sustainable in the past and are able to develop sustainably (… ) there is no reason why both should not coexist." (S6); "Most indigenous reserves must be also protected areas. How to effectively do it? I don't know." (S36); "In countries with mindless and irresponsible politicians and business people, it should be mandatory that 'indigenous reserves' must be synonymous with 'protected areas'. (S42) 13 Contamination and cultural imposition Some respondents signalled the risk of contamination, this is of indigenous peoples being influenced by a mestizo culture and therefore driven to break the presumed harmonic relationship with the natural environment. This may be seen as a lost opportunity, that of the rest of humanity to learn from indigenous experiences or, that of given indigenous people to assert managerial control: "Yes, as indigenous populations tend to live in harmony with nature these areas tend to require protection from the outside world. (S12); "… I also think it is difficult to put it into practice since indigenous people want to be part of the economic system and therefore there is a risk of depletion. Anyway who is better to protect certain areas than the people who have lived there for hundred of years!!!" (S39); "Yes, in fact, so far as I know, many of our indigenous people live in these protected areas, where most of them have been able to live in a sustainable way, I say most of them, because others are affected by the mestizo men that live nearby or want to get something from that place due to its economic importance, affecting these natural areas." (S45) It was pointed out that both types of jurisdiction, IR and PA, derived from a cultural-historical process, in which self-determination was not accounted for: "Yes, a very imperialistic one - especially in the Americas (including Canada). It is an old regressive link between the two, in the 60s and 70s this paternalistic viewpoint saw indigenous culture as static --which is wrong!" (S24); "Yes, they both seem to be defined by the ruling 'white' government." (S26) A respondent that had visited Amazonia (VA) added that there is resistance to this imposition, at least as far as indigenous peoples of Colombia are concerned: "yes-especially when indigenous management systems are practised in spite of the models of dominant society in Colombia" (S27). Similarly, another VA respondent suggested that in Colombia there are no friendly relationships between IR and PA: "It depends from country to country, but in Colombia no" (S10)! Analytical responses The analysis provided by some of the respondents tended to localise the relationship: to put it into the historical process. The analysis underlined the main problem for a "non-confrontational" relationship between IR and PA regimes. As they are designations that came about without public participation and from a rationality that is especially alien to indigenous peoples, when IRs and PAs overlap, competition for management arises. These type of answers either acknowledged that the relationship happens through overlap, or mentioned the difficulties of hitting indigenous rights and conservation target simultaneously: "Freedom of choice for all people, in terms of lifestyle, cultural heritage can translate into giving management control to indigenous people in protected areas. However the balance between sustainable economic development for indigenous people and at the same time protecting the environment is a difficult topic to discuss at a macro level. Individual environmental and socio-cultural circumstances need to be fully accounted for and explicitly articulated." (S7) "Yo creo que existe una relacion estrecha entre reservas indigenas y areas protegidas alrededor del mundo. Ya que estas dos figuras juridicas en muchos casos (p.e. Colombia) se encuentran translapadas." (I believe there is a close relationship between indigenous reserves and protected areas around the world. It derives from the fact that in many cases these two jurisdictions overlap) (S34). 14 "There is a relationship when they overlap, which I think happens often." (S44) "Los resguardos y las reservas indigenas han tenido la tendencia a considerarse y definirse como areas protegidas, sin embargo me parece importante tener en cuenta que al establecer los limites territoriales entre los resguardos quedan zonas intermedias que no pertenecen necesariamente a algun resguardo, y esto hace de un modo u otro que tambien se presenten roces con diferentes actores. Por la misma razon que al no estar circunscrito en un resguardo aparentemente se consideraría como un area no protegida… " (It has been the tendency to consider the resguardos and indigenous reserves as protected areas. However, I think it is worth considering that when the resguardo boundaries are established, there are zones in-between not ascribed to any resguardo. And this makes it somehow possible for different [political] actors to get confrontational. This happens as a consequence of the non-ascription of the in-between zone, which is not considered as protected area… ) (S48) However it came about and assuming that both jurisdictions are somehow competing, some respondents argued that IR should be more effective, as it gives responsibility to the people for their own lives: "Yes, although I think indigenous reserves serve to protect the environment/area better. This is because they are protected by local people who value the resources and use them in a traditional and more sustainable way. Protected areas can be designated/run by Governments and this can remove the responsibility from the indigenous peoples." (S5); "Yes. I think that indigenous reserves do offer more protection than protected areas because it gives local people more incentive to use sustainable practices. They can see it being in their own interests" (S17) In contrast, one respondent argued: "Maybe there is, but I don't believe in reserves" (S35). And a second respondent (VA) added that poverty have driven indigenous peoples to behave unsustainably: "I think it is possible. However, some indigenous areas are completely degraded because they are selling their natural resources to survive." (S53). This response (S53) is related to one of those made to Q1: "To a certain degree, yes. I think that monetary considerations will always outweigh humanitarian concerns and it is very hard to convince people who are seeking a living from sometimes meagre resources that it is in their own good to give consideration to long-term sustainable use of their resources. It is usually easier and cheaper to move on to the next area when one area has been depleted." (S17) Both answers (Q1-S17, Q2-S53) echo a neo-Malthusian argument. It implies that a 'tragedy of the commons' is happening in Amazonia and elsewhere as result of overpopulation. The politics involved "No. Indigenous reserves and protected areas (for nature conservation) are two different political land use strategies. If the government is assigning an Indian reserve then they should respect the use the indigenous people are making of the terrain according to traditional use or to improved technologies. Areas for Nature conservation must be treated separately and with a different priority. We cannot make the indians responsible for the disappearing of the diversity. The government has to be responsible by applying appropriate conservation and management regimes" (S2) This response makes an argument for the need to differentiate between IR and PA as diverse political strategies that pursue different aims. The first would aim to 15 comply with Indigenous Peoples Rights, particularly that of self-determination. The second political strategy would aim at biodiversity conservation. The respondent acknowledges indigenous social change as indigenous management depends on both, tradition and technological improvement. Interestingly, the analysis provided does not try to conceal the confrontational nature of the relationship; nor does it neither place much hope in conciliation. On the contrary, it advocates for a distinction. If there is some hope or sense of utopia in the response it comes from solutions provided by technological improvement. Which is something this particular respondent had already stressed in Q1: "… . Development as the integration of western technologies or increase of income per capita, can be carefully done by implementing appropriate technologies into the productive activities of the communities. Sustainability defined as a continuous productivity level in the long term." (S2) Non-conclusive comment-Q211 Nowadays, the establishment or enlargement of IRs (Resguardos in Colombia) and PAs requires the interested proponents to follow long protocols, the fulfilment of precise administrative procedures and of legal conditions. One aim of the process is to allow different stakeholders to participate and to assure the fulfilment of fundamental rights to all citizens in equal conditions. In Colombia, like in many other parts of the developing world, when the "juridical figures" were established these procedures were not necessary, therefore, many IRs and PAs were established without participation of all interested parties. It is not surprising that some of the respondents refer to the confrontation or competition of regimes that began with their imposition. It could be of some significance that none of the respondents that claimed the need to harmonise IR and PA have been in Amazonia. In contrast, the two respondents that pointed out that these two regimes are conflicting in Colombia have been there. The analytical response that called for clear differentiation between the two also came from the group of people that had visited Amazonia (VA). From the set of answers given to Q2 it is clear that different and contrasting narratives ascribed to with respect to environmental management. For some of the respondents indigenous peoples are guardians of the environment, victims of colonialism or in risk of a cultural contamination that will force them to adopt maladaptive strategies that would threaten conservation strategies. For others, indigenous reserves are untrustworthy designations: the environment should be preserved against development and human intervention, be it indigenous or otherwise. Therefore indigenous peoples should not be in charge of environmental management. Yet, another political perspective is derived from hopes of compatibility between the two regimes, which although pursuing different aims are seen as relevant for environmental and human security at the same time. Thus, the third perspective could be characterised as dialectic or iterative. From this (last) perspective indigenous experience could help the development of conservation strategies; and, 11 Schematic summary: Table 2, Appendix 3. 16 at the same time, the revision of environmental and conservation management strategies could be vital for the survival of indigenous peoples. Hope or Utopian visions also have a place here: the development of technology is seen as a key component for adequate environmental management. Technological improvement would allow both compliance with indigenous peoples' rights and biodiversity conservation. We are sketching a continuum from our comment on Q1, suggesting that the narrative of conciliation 'reflects a process of thinking and acting that is deeply rooted in utopia'. Q3 - Do you think that the concepts of protected areas (PA), indigenous reserves (IR) and sustainable development (SD) are useful for environmental management today? Two respondents say that the concepts should be context specific: "Yes, but which of them is useful depends on context… " (S1). "As I said before, all these terms have to be defined properly in the first place before they can be applied." (S2). There were two respondents that simply said 'yes' (S14, S22), while one answered: "yes, if it works" (S4). S4's response suggests that concepts are instruments, and not surprisingly many answers referred to the "applicability" of these three concepts. Environmental indians and contamination risk Some respondents reiterated the idea, already expressed in Q1 and Q2, that indigenous peoples are practitioners of SD or conservation managers: "… Indigenous reserves are important because they allow the preservation of a way of living in sympathy with the environment long gone in most areas… " (S12); "Claro que si. Las culturas indigenas son un ejemplo de convivencia y explotacion sostenible del entorno en que viven" (Yes of course. Indigenous cultures are an example of coexistence with the environment they live in and of sustainable exploitation.) (S23); "Yes because indigenous people are the 'shepherds' of the landscape and they have a first-hand understanding and experience (handed down from previous generations) of ecosystem processes. Sometimes indigenous customs and habits reflect an understanding of nature's processes that can be exemplary in the planning of management plans… "(S41) One response re-enforced an idea presented in Q2, that indigenous sustainable practices are in risk as the younger generations begin to adopt western lifestyles: "… , but this knowledge is also in danger [endangered],… , shamanism is related in many cases to the management of the natural resources, but I have listened to the indigenous people from the community that I'm working in, that they're not interested in receiving this knowledge from their parents, and day by they they're a lot like us in their agricultural practices." (S45) Principles as instruments Various responses made reference to certain conditions that would have to be fulfilled in order for the concepts to be useful. This perspective, where the concepts are understood as political instruments, could be useful if a 'real' or 'truth-value' definition of them were accomplished. This truth-value would come from using the political instrumentality of a concept only if it were to reflect a set of principles such as intergenerational equity, empowerment, and participation. 17 And, in the case of participation, special emphasis were given to the incorporation of indigenous people, their knowledge and ways of dealing with the environment: "The concept of protected areas will only be successful if indigenous peoples are involved, therefore this would seem to indicate that indigenous reserves would be the best way forward of the two" (S5) "… indigenous reserves need to be redefined according to the wishes of the people who will be living in them,… (S6); "… If sustainable development means development with the means which exist and with the participation of the people concerned… " (S11); Yes. Exercising indigenous knowledge should not be limited to reserves but integrated into the management plans along with scientific knowledge more widely. (S26); "Yes… Any protected area, etc. must actively incorporate the participation of indigenous people" (S41) The idea of intergenerational equity is attached to that of resource reserve for the developmental process: "Yes… The sustainable development concept relating to the obligation of the present generation to leave enough natural assets and capital for future generations to enjoy at least the same quality of life we enjoy today must be at the heart of environmental management activities." (S12) "Yes, because the natural environment that we believe is endangered should be protected as a reference in future years to come and because of this a sense of environmental management is very important as the same environment becomes a resource for development" (S13) "Yes. We need to protect the area and its people and provide for sustainable development. (S21) "… pero estoy cierto que las areas protegidas independentemente del interes en prervarlas desempeñan un papel importante en el manejo de ambientes naturales para la captura de CO2, conservación de recursos biogenéticos/biodiversidad/ y como elementos de estudio para futuras generaciones… " (… but I am certain that, independently of the interest in preserving them, protected areas play a roll in the management of natural environment for CO2 sequestration, conservation of biodiversity/genetic resources and as study subjects for future generations (S25) "yes, otherwise development will go against our own endurance. I think we have to consider the possibility that we are not the most powerful force in this world." (S38) Risk and Protection Following this idea is that of concepts (as political instruments) being useful if they could provide and enforce protection (S13, S21 above). In this case either the environment is seen at risk (endangered species or ecosystems) or both indigenous peoples and their environments: "Yes. Protected areas are important as pools of natural resources not affected by human activity. Indigenous reserves are important because they allow the preservation of a way of living in sympathy [tune] with the environment long gone in most areas." (S12); "I think they are vital. Until everyone has a responsible attitude to environmental control certain protections have to be enforced." (S17) Some of the responses expressing a need for environmental protection have a sense of impending catastrophe: "Yes, but they are loaded concepts so we have to be careful in using them… sustainable development is the only way we will survive, but is usually glibly applied." (S6); "in a limited sense perhaps.but what we need to accomplish is protection of all that there is left, without cutting and taking land around the so called protected area. stop the modernisation process wherever it has not already reached into" (S32); "Yes, because they are the only source to preserve life on earth." (S51) 18 Protection but of cultural diversity: "… They may contribute to 'capturing' and saving fragile cultures and 'unknown' languages." (S31) Although acknowledging the need for protection, some respondents made it explicit that IRs were not effective, as the policies derived from such concepts (regimes) would increase risk instead of attenuating it: "… in terms of indigenous groups if they become circumscribed to a specific protected area then this will prevent persistence of nomadic lifestyles etc. and as a result the protected area may become 'unsustainable' as people are becoming circumscribed to a specific reserve. I guess this also answers the question on indigenous reserves, however, the indigenous reserves of N. America should be used as an example of the problems of tying people to such reserves,… " (S10) "… 'indigenous reserves' are not so useful - most of indigenous social problems have been caused by the colonisers, and are being reproduced through generations. Keeping indigenous people enclosed in such areas, and introducing paternalistic rules and laws is not healthy for any society. It instils racism in a society, and will not ensure that indigenous practices of environmental management will be maintained - that depends on the indigenous group and how they choose to manage their environment… " (S24) The need for integration and its impediments Some emphasis was put on the idea that there is or should be a link between the concepts (political instruments): "Yes all concepts are useful as they each permit different aspects of the economic/ecology debate to enter into the wider public arena. Ultimately for there to be sustainable solutions to environmental problems there needs to be a holistic approach adopted… " (S7) "… environmental development will not be meaningful without taking into account the interrelation between 'indigenous reserves' and 'sustainable development'" (S11) "Yes, because all areas are linked with each other very closely" (S18). "Yes. Exercising indigenous knowledge should not be limited to reserves but integrated into the management plans along with scientific knowledge more widely." (S26) "… Lo que creo es que tanto las reservas indigenas, como las areas protegidas deberian orientarse hacia un desarrollo sostenible. Bien sea que estas dos figuras se translapen o no. Si entendemos el desarrollo sostenible como un proceso que involucra criterios sociales, culturales, economicos, y ambientales." (… What I do believe is that indigenous reserves as well as protected areas should direct their attention towards sustainable development, whether or not the entities [juridical regimes] overlap. If we understand sustainable development as a process that involves social, cultural, economic and environmental criteria.) (S34) However, quiet a few responses pointed out the problems that prevent this integration from taking place: 1) Incompatibility of interests between IR and PA: "… Protected areas are useful, but they raise the debate as to whether one should protect an area and exclude people from it so that a certain species/ archaeological site/community can survive or whether people should have access… " (S10); "It is quite difficult to harmonies those concepts, specifically among indigenous people. They are convinced that 'sustainable development' is an imperialist concept, and the first idea they have -as far as they hear the concept- is that they are going to be exploited by others… " (S40) 2) The prevalence of economic efficiency and profit at the expense of anything else: 19 "… El desarrollo sustentable que ha sido cada vez mas un objetivo importante en varios paises del mundo. Pero encontrar los balances correctos ha sido y es dificil, particulrmente cuando las sociedades y gobiernos estan sometidos a un proceso de globalizacion y de efeicientizacion economica. He ahi los conflictos permanentes de lograr un desarrollo verdaderamente sustentable que considere no solo los aspectos economicos, pero politicos, cultrales, sociales y ecologicos o ambientales. (Sustainable development has become an increasingly important objective in several countries around the world. But to find the correct balances has been and continues to be difficult; in particular as a result of societies and governments being subjected to economic efficiency within the globalisation process. There are permanent conflicts in the way of obtaining a real sustainable development that involve not only the economic aspects, but also the social, cultural, ecological and environmental criteria " (S25). "… too many people think of 'sustainable' as meaning economic sustainability and not environmental sustainability." (S30). "… While protected areas and indigenous reserves serve to maintain environmental quality, the concept of sustainable development is often disregarded for the sake of profits and globalisation." (S33) 3) Political manipulation: "I think there have been problems with these concepts for two reasons: First, they mean different thing for different people, second, they have been used and to serve particular interests. There are several and opposite definitions of 'sustainable development' and it's a difficult concept. 'Indigenous reserve', used as a general concept does not describe usefully the complex realities and 'protected areas' have been used to serve particular interests over time so I think it is seen suspiciously by a lot of people." (S44) "I think so, but these concepts are used a lot by politicians, and then the meaning can be manipulated". (S46) "… The big problem is not related to the concepts alone, it is related to the way in which these are applied according with particular interests and purposes. Many times the terms are used by different groups or organisations in order to pretend to be environmental friendly or responsible, when the real purposes reveal an opposite target or interest." (S47) "… Muy seguaramente estos términos se manejan como deben ser en el plano académico teórico, mas no ocurre lo mismo en el ambito práctico donde lo que prevalece son los interese de los diferentes actores que trabajan en este campo, lo que lleva inevitablemente a que se presenten situaciones de tension entre estos y se deje de lado el objetivo primordial en cuanto a la conservación y le manejo ambiental" (For sure, theoretically and within the academic circles these concepts are managed as they should be. Although, in the practical scenario privilege is given to the particular interests of those different [political] actors who work in this field. Thus, it is unavoidable that tensions will arise between these [political actors], which leave aside the fundamental aim of environmental management and conservation) (S48) 4) Semantics, the concepts mean too many things to too many different political actors (S44 above): "… 'Sustainable development' is not so useful for environmental management, as the concept is too contested - it means too many different things to different people." (S24); "As I said, the problem is that there are many definitions of those terms and it makes it difficult to determine if they are useful in one place compared to other places" (S50) Dynamism The perspective of 'dynamism' reflects a perception of mutating meanings as an advantage. Under this perspective 'contested' means 'in change', which is seen as part of a learning process, which is in tune with the idea of local definition of concepts (emphasised above): "Ultimately for there to be sustainable solutions to environmental problems there needs to be a holistic approach adopted, where people can better appreciate that their lifestyle has much in 20 common with others - even if they are in an OECD country and cannot appreciate the day to day lifestyle of someone in a less developed country. … . Therefore the concepts listed can provide an opportunity to raise the awareness of the majority of the world's people." "Yes, there is plenty that can be learned from these three concepts and also applied" (S37) "A lot, I believe there are a lot of things we can learn from them, specially in this field of study,." (S45) "If these concepts are [understood or interpreted] under a dynamic and changing world (attached to contexts), which mean that there is not a unique definition or way to apply them, I think they are still useful for environmental management." [original: understanding or interpreting… ] (S47) The need for new concepts-Q3 Contradicting narratives can be appreciated through the reading of these responses. There is a group of respondents that are uncritical of the concepts or the policies derived from them (like S37, S45 above and): "Yes, they are important to efficient environmental management" (S28); "Yes. An understanding of the mechanism of these terminologies is essential for effective environmental management … " (S9). Another group could be made out of those responses that reflect suspicion or are definitely critical of the concepts (S10, S24, S25, S30, S33, S40, S44, S46, S47, S48, S50 above). And, besides the group of respondents that express conditionality or hope (see above), there is a group of responses that, while critical of the concepts, acknowledge that at present they are all we have: "… which of them is useful depends on context… If an ethnic group is to be allowed to determine the course of events within its own territory, then the territory must be reserved for them until such time as they develop complete autonomy or decide to integrate more closely with wider society. Sustainable development may seem a rather broad, unspecific term, but it does at least draw attention to the unsustainability of conventional development… " (S1) "… The concept of sustainable development is gradually getting better developed and, even if it is not strictly attainable, gives decision-makers something to work towards… (S5) "I don't agree with the concept of SD as it is a contradiction in terms, but at present there are few better alternatives… " (S10) One respondent actually moved forward in the critique, pointing out that the concepts were built on preconceptions and identifying the need to generate new concepts that would integrate the useless categorical divide of nature and society: "I think they are old fashioned, and generated by the Anglo-Saxon culture. We should move towards an increased compatibility between human activities and nature, making it therefore not necessary to talk about reserves, or natural areas." (S35) Non-conclusive comment-Q312: The majority if not the totality of respondents took 'concepts' as 'politics'. They discussed the history of these politics, their adequacy and sufficiency. It is very interesting that while the conduct through which political ideas become policies is supposed to be complex, it is obvious for the respondents that there is more than theoretical debate going on in the process of policy making. There is a prevailing, sometimes automatic or non-reflexive awareness that narratives pursue the aims that drive the policies and politics that are transforming the environment. 12 Schematic summary: table 3, Appendix 3. 21 In continuity with the results of Q2, only 1 out of five respondents of those who argued for the need to integrate the concepts had been in Amazon; while the two respondents that argued the case of 'incompatibility of interests' had been there. Of those which suggested that these concepts –political strategies- are useful for environmental protection or that this is the last chance –catastrophism- for life, none had visited Amazonia. It may be of some significance that none of the five respondents that suggested that IR might be a better strategy than PA have been in Amazonia, while one person of the two that argued that IRs are ineffective had been there. The responses correspond to several narratives that can be identified. One of them is that of 'confidence in science and trust in political instrumentality' derived from the (traditional definitions of) concepts outlined. Another narrative is that of 'natives as heroes and outsiders as villains', which is reflected in the suspiciousness of concepts based in untested assumptions and in mistrust of the governmental policies derived from them. In summary there is a status-quo narrative and a counter narrative. Yet a third type of narrative could be identified, that of 'critical understanding'. Q4 – Should environmental managers (EM) get involved in the territorial ordering process (TOP) of the Amazon? One of the respondents simply answered yes (S4). One was unsure (S52), perhaps suspicious? One considered the question was tricky (S32), and three of them put the question into question. Two of these responses asked for the term 'environmental manager' to be defined: "Difficult to answer. Define the roles, mandate and empowerment of the environmental manager… " (S31); "What do you mean by environmental managers?." (S6). The third one was more critical: "this sentence is colonialist as if indigenous peoples of Amazonia were not in fact environmental managers" (S27). With a similar intent, one respondent argued that indigenous people were better-qualified environmental mangers: "Las comunidades indigenas han sido las mejores administradoras del territorio ancestral, eso debe ser respetado y replicado en zonas donde la intervención humana 'civilizada' ha afectado las condiciones ambientales. (Indigenous communities have been the best managers of ancestral territories, this should be respected and should be replicated in areas where 'civilised' human intervention has affected environmental conditions) (S20)" The response of Indigenous peoples as better managers had been expressed in Q1, Q2 and Q3. Another three responses reinforced the ideas of catastrophism, the need for urgent environmental protection and to stop development (S32, S33, S42). Perspectives EMs are the ones: "Definitely" (S12); " … They have in many cases a better view for the long-run." (S18); 22 Yes. Who else is better suited to do so?" (S21); "Environmental Managers should get involved. They are best able to ensure protection of ecosystem" (S28); "Por supuesto que si. Ya que el ordenamiento territorial de un territorio (en este caso de la Amazonia) debe tener como objetivos el desarrollo sostenible." (Definitely. Territorial ordering (of the Amazon in this case) should have sustainable development as an objective) (S34); "Because they are the ones that can understand the balance that must exist between economic development, traditional culture and environment." (S36); " They should, how can they do whithout?" (S46) "Yes, because they can contribute to better territorial ordering in the region" (S53) EMs and scientists figure out the solutions and take the decisions: "Deben estar involucradas todas las personas del planeta, pero con mas razon los 'decision makers', que a fin de cuentas, toman las acciones concretas sobre nuestro futuro medioambiental. (All people from the planet should get involved, but the 'decision makers' have more reason to be there, after all they are the ones that take the concrete actions in respect to our environmental future) (S23); "Yes, but along with some other scientists, not only because of the importance of the Amazon from a global point of view, but specially for the importance for the people living there." (S35); "Yes, always considering multiple disciplines result in a better understanding and so better solutions." (S38) But taking into account the other opinions: "Yes, although indigenous peoples will also play a major part and without them any agreements between Governments and environmental managers will not work… " (S5); "Not always, because it is necessary to take into consideration lay people's opinions too." (53) Indigenous peoples direct EMs: "If they are asked to do so by indigenous peoples, I see no problem with this." (S1); "Territorial ordering should be primarily decided upon by the indigenous groups that inhabit them, … ultimately decisions need to come from the bottom upwards" (S10); "… The indigenous people should be in charge of the program at the ultimate level" (S14). " They should but they should make sure they respect the opinion of indigenous people and they should be very discreet in their approach and aim for cooperation." (S41) EMs have equal rights to participate as other stakeholders: " Of course. All actors should be involved in the process… It doesn't mean that they have to take decisions but they can evaluate the circumstances under different and also important perspectives." (S2); "What do you mean by environmental managers? But yes, I think they also have a stake in the fate of the Amazon, and have a right to make their voices heard. (S6); " Involvement - yes but only in collaboration and co-operation with the Amazonian people and those in the higher levels of bureaucracy and policy making … Environmental managers can make significant contributions in this area, given their depth of understanding of the issues (relative to the general public)" (S7); "Deveriam estar envolvidos no processo de re-ordenamento territorial, junto com edndios, ribeirinhos etc" (they should be involved in the territorial ordering process together with indigenous peoples, riverine inhabitants, etc." (S29); " I think they should be involved as advisors and technical support but I support the idea of a non-technical management, where decisions are taken by the different stakeholders based on the technical advice and the social, cultural and economic factors." (S44) 23 But this intervention should be avoided within indigenous territories: "Not in indigenous reserves or territories which historically have been managed by indigenous communities. In other areas, should be taking part in dialogue of knowledge between cultures, people, communities, scientists and decision makers from private and government sectors, to order process on the amazon area." [Original text:… historically has been management by… ](S47) The apolitical EM: "Yes, but not for political reasons. It should be for the cause of sustainable use of our natural environment which is our heritage." (S9); " … Generally though I think that environmentalists like missionaries before them should not get involved in political processes as this can have a very negative reaction within the local community." (S17) "Yes, their knowledge will hopefully be of use in the ordering process" (S37) The political participation of EMs: "Yes, to counteract the interference of other external actors but hopefully to work with the indigenous people respecting their values and practices, not independently." (S26) EMs as facilitators of the dialog between IK and WS: "… without them [indigenous peoples] any agreements between Governments and environmental managers will not work. Environmental Managers should facilitate discussion… " (S5); "Territorial ordering should be primarily decided upon by the indigenous groups that inhabit them, environmental managers roles here should be as referees to help in the co-ordination of the process, but ultimately decisions need to come from the bottom upwards." (S10); "It's necessary for people involved in this field of study, that had already gained a conscience, and that are able to understand that we have to work with indigenous, not from our usual management vision, but theirs, trying to see the world like they do. In this way could be easier, perhaps to understand and give convincing and why not scientific arguments to the authorities (or people in charge of handling these affairs) about the different way they have already distributed their territory, which [in] most of the case (if not all) doesn't have our political distribution. (I.E, those groups that live between Colombia and Brazil boundaries) they don't have the same division of territories, because of this, they must be managed in a way more in concordance to their political organisation." (S45) Capacity, ability and quality of EMs: "Depends who the environmental managers are - if they are from the area and have a passion for the area, then why not. If they are drafted in from outside, and seen as the 'outside experts' then probably not - it usually causes friction within the area."(S24) "Define the roles, mandate and empowerment of the environmental manager. They may fall into different categories, of which I may name at least 4: 1. The conflictive manager. Created by a lobbying body. A good example is the body (forget the name) that is in charge of the Everglades in Florida. Their work is tainted by conflict of interest: the provision of water to cities and sugar cane farmers, at the same time maintaining the 'wet lands' as an ecosystem and controlling flooding! 2. The romantic. Exemplified by rich Europeans or North-Americans. Wanting to keep habitats, they may buy some land and resort to eco-tourism in order to keep their sustainability. I believe there are some German managed 'eco' destinations in Ecuador. Driven by an alternative way of life, they may not 'manage' the environment as they should. 3. The bureaucrat. A member of a government agency or NGO that may not be aware of local needs, responding always to policies made from a distance. Current legislation may be a hinder. "Los paisas", developed and colonised what is today Risaralda, Quindio, Caldas and 24 parts of Choco in Colombia, by using legislation that enabled them to cut and clear big forest areas to be claimed afterwards, creating the concept of the "colono". A colonisation process I witnessed in Caquetá some years ago. 4. The "grass roots" manager. Perhaps, the type who knows best the ecosystem and the power relationships that develop around it by the people involved with it. Usually their voice is not heard, mainly because of the threat they represent to some landowners or 'colonos'. If the law regarding claiming land that has been cleared is still existing, managing the environment is going to be a great task. One shall not forget that the 'colono' phenomenon represents one of the many socio-economical problems a nation like Colombia faces. … Management work usually develops around a policy. Trust among all participants is primordial. There ought to be some kind of legal-economical framework that will ease management work. If this is in place and all conflicts of interest reduced, then the territorial ordering process of Amazonia may become real." (S 31) Political risks, EMs tough job: "Yes, however the pressures on the person might be extreme. It would be preferable to have both on-site environmental managers and use some respected external managers as reference." (S15); "Yes, but bearing in mind that you should work with politicians and many kinds of 'parasitic' people which are thinking every day in the short term. It means that environmental managers are not enough for sustainable management and use of natural resource: their analytical models as well as their technical capacity is necessary, but they cannot work isolated, they require to work with others, despite the fact that 'the others' could (and should) think in a different way." (S40) Summarising-Q413 Like in the responses to Q1, Q2 and Q3, we can identify different and often contradictory perspectives. There were those that argued that environmental managers14 are the best qualified for the task and appeared somewhat perplexed by the question. Within that group there were those responses that assumed that decisions were taken by environmental managers or should be taken by them, although two expressed that others' opinion should be considered to a lesser extent. In the other direction were the responses that questioned intervention by EMs and considered it useful only when the decision-making process was led by indigenous peoples themselves. Yet, a third group was of the opinion that EMs should get involve in the same conditions that other stakeholders, such as indigenous peoples but, one respondent suggested they should not intervene in the management of indigenous peoples' territories at all. 13 See also Table 4, Appendix 3. 14 Called EMs in the survey to differentiate them from other experts and indigenous peoples. As it has been explained elsewhere (See "The march of the Manikins: Agroforestry practices and Spiritual dancing in Northwest Amazonia) indigenous peoples management of the environment departs from a different rationality and uses different instruments. What indigenous people from Northwest Amazonia call "management of the world" is not only a set of shamanistic practices but a way of living that combines social aims, aesthetic values, religious believes, and economic practices in a distinctive manner. Although acknowledging indigenous peoples from Northwest Amazonia are in fact environmental managers, the author has stressed that their "management of the world" incorporates many things, some of them of tremendous importance for environmental management more generally. 25 The other contrasting perspectives concerned the character of the intervention. While one group of responses were of the opinion that EMs should not get involved in politics, but have a technical approach, others thought that they should get involved to contrast and balance the political interests of other groups. A third group emerged, which advocated the intervention of environmental managers as conciliators and facilitators. Related to this roll of managers as advisers there was a group of responses showing concern with the capacity, ability and quality of environmental managers and, the possible risks that they have to face. Non-conclusive comment-Q4: As in responses to questions one, two and three, we can trace arguments and contra-arguments. One set of respondents portrays EMs as heroes. In this scenario they face a tough job, they are well trained, better able and indispensable for the process of territorial ordering; their politically risky job in which they have to make the decisions would be fundamental for diminishing environmental risk and even saving life on earth. (As in Q2 and Q3 none of those arguing conservation/catastrophism had been in Amazonia). A counter narrative is that provided by respondents arguing that EMs' participation should be directed by indigenous peoples (IP) or that the projects should be led mainly by natives, and that EMs should not intervene in the management of indigenous territories: in this case the heroes are indigenous peoples. A second counter narrative seems to be reflected by some of the respondents. In this scenario, EMs like IP should have equal rights to participate as different stakeholders, in this case decisions would come from a rational process in which dialog between cultures would take place. The participation of EMs would not be limited by their status/power but by their capacity, ability and their roll as facilitators or conciliators. Discussion European colonisation of Africa, Asia, the Americas, and Australasia from the late fifteenth century onwards, gave a tremendous boost to the volume of global transactions involving natural resources. Over the long run, trade in these resources, and in an increasingly diverse array of environmental services, has been expanding ever since. However, much of what is called globalisation in the twenty first century has more to do with developments in information technology since the late 1900s. The increasing speed of communications media and information transfer have proved fundamental in economic restructuring and the transformation of the world into a largely urban space (Castells 1996). In the globalised, twenty first century, local political decisions have little chance of being autarchic; international policy advisors inform local stakeholders about what is considered adequate or legal in accordance with international treaties, foreign protocols and political compromises. The local politics of environmental management is the concern of everybody: corporations, governments, international, regional and national NGOs, all of which compete for access to information and expansion of their scope of power in the political arena (Ambrose-Oji, Allmark et al. 2002). During the 1990s, and especially after the Río Earth Summit in 1992, one of the main topics of discussion was management of the global environment (Sachs 26 1993). Global targets for sustainable development were established at Río and similar processes were set in train at regional, national and local scales all over the world, following the guidelines set out in one of the policy documents agreed at Río: "Agenda 21". The official discourse that emerged from the Río process was replicated and many of the assumptions that informed the original discourse have been accorded a quasi-factual status by many people all over the globe (Sevilla_Guzmán and Woodgate 1997). The official discourse on globalisation emphasised the need for environmental management at supranational levels. At the same time, counter-discourse or anti-globalisation narratives have emerged. These emphasise the rights of indigenous people and local political actors to manage natural resources independently, in ways that allow them to make their own livelihood decisions and establish resource-use regimes that can provide the environmental goods and services that people need15. The management of the environment has always motivated debate and often led to confrontation. One of the main arguments of conservative conservationists concerns the 'vulnerability' of rainforest environments, and thus the need for their protection. Since the 1980s the problem of deforestation of tropical rainforests has been a global issue with special emphasis in South East Asia, the Congo basin and Amazonia (Adger, Benjaminsen et al. 2001). In a 1998 analysis of 'rainforest' web-sites, Stott revealed four metawords within the conservation rhetoric: orientalism (the exotic other), climax (harmony), old age (ancient, undisturbed) and vulnerability (Stott 1999). Metawords such as these become key rhetorical devices so that even research and development project proposals tend to employ them, thus replicating assumptions that are no longer questioned. How is this metalanguage produced? What are the bases of its principal cannons? And why is it that semantic analysis tends to remain the preserve of scientists – or is it something that is also dealt with at a local level? Narratives can be traced back in time. Equilibrium disturbance (climax rupture) and environmental fragility (vulnerability) both played parts in Hardin's 1968 'tragedy of the commons' (Hardin 1998). The neo-Malthusian discourse of environmental catastrophe as a result of an increasing population (of 'poor people') lies at the heart of Hardin's tragedy. The conservative conservationist perspective on the management of the rainforest is based on mistrust of systems of environmental management in which property rights (over life and resources) are not yet marketable. From a conservative political perspective responsible environmental action can only be achieved through the clarification of property rights to allow the unfettered action of free markets for the negotiation of such rights. It is assumed that the tragedy of the commons is happening or will happen in rainforest contexts where private property rights are not yet the rule and where societies still practise communal environmental management regimes based on indigenous knowledge rationalities in which nature and society form an ontological continuum. For conservatives only free markets for environmental rights, good and services can guarantee sustainable development. Neo-Malthusian 15 The discourses that emphasise on the need of eco-efficiency, economic transnationalization and planetary ecological management, were named by Sachs as contest and astronauts' perspectives. And the counter-discourse arising from the desempowered communities of the South as the home perspective (Sachs 1977). 27 and neo-liberal assumptions are fundamental to this perspective on sustainable development. With the aim of promoting Agenda 21 at local, national and regional levels, a complex and sophisticated process of institutionalisation was embarked upon. Amazonia did not escape this process; governmental officials or conservationist NGOs replicated the dominant conservationist discourse at the local level in NWA16. This official discourse of deforestation with its main initiative of protection of the environment from people has been labelled 'hegemonic' (Stott and Dullivan 2000) or 'neo-Malthusian' and 'managerial' (Adger, Benjaminsen et al. 2001). It should come as no surprise then that counter narratives have developed in Amazonia (and elsewhere), for many of which the principal intention is to contradict the conservative policies derived from this hegemonic discourse. The rights of indigenous people to define the course of their lives: their rights to manage natural resources and the environmental services used or supplied by the Amazonian environment have been key issues in these significant counter-claims against the official Amazonian territorial ordering politics and policies, which have involved environmental management that has been designed elsewhere. This counter-narrative pursues the principle and right of self-determination against the interests of political initiatives for global environmental management. The counter-narrative was not just a reaction to neo-liberal, neo-Malthisian conservative politics and conservation policies during the 1980s and '90s, however. In Latin America, all indigenous peoples' rebellions against the European empires were motivated by a call to reconstruct pre-colonial socio-cultural orders returning to territorial orders where the management of 'agroforestry' was undifferentiated from the sacred (Varese 1996:124-25). In modern, post-colonial states, indigenous peoples continued to struggle for the recognition of their territories. In today's NWA this struggle is related to governmental and conservationists policies of environmental management and the presence of armed groups opposed to political resolution of territorial ordering. Many of the Protected Areas (PAs) of NWA were created at a time when no legal procedure was established for public intervention in the designation of such areas. The official titles of the PA or IR (Resguardos in Colombia) have not prevented non-native invasion of lands or the expansion of illegal crop production inside either PAs or IRs. Conservationists and indigenous peoples alike have vacillated between alliances with, and the rejection of, the armed groups in charge of illegal crop production, depending on the political gains to be made and the risks involved in rejecting the proposals or achieving an alliance. The armed groups, on their part, have sought political alliances when such co-operation could benefit their military capacity or improve the managerial efficiency of their enterprises.17 16 With respect to the territorial ordering process, the Colombian Amazon controversy is discussed in Forero 1999, 2000; Forero, Laborde et al. 1998. 17 See Forero 2000, "Territoriality and Governance in the Colombian Amazon". 28 As far as local inhabitants were concerned, rainforest conservation policies arrived in NWA from another space and time. The legal establishment of protected areas took no account of the opinions or desires of the peoples already inhabiting NWA. Indigenous agro-ecosystems and the livelihood strategies of more recent colonisers were both ignored. The ideology expressed through legal frameworks was that of protection of the environment from people. The villains were local inhabitants and the regulations to be enforced were those of expelling people from the 'conservation' areas and maintaining their exclusion. The dominant discourse made no distinction between complex indigenous agro-ecosystems and the less sophisticated livelihood strategies being developed by recent immigrants. All of them were labelled as "slash and burn" agriculture (Myers 1980). Yet it has become increasingly apparent over the last thirty years that slash and burn is just an aspect of indigenous environmental management in Amazonia, which combines agricultural production, fish and game management, ritual prescriptions, and aesthetic developments18. It has even been suggested that movement towards "short cropping/long-fallow" cultivation patterns within indigenous Amazonian agro-ecosystems was an strategic response to alien invasion of territories and the introduction of metal axes (Denevan 2001: 115-31). Today, most ethnoscientists find it self-evident that the concepts of "chagras" (gardens) and "rastrojos" (abandoned gardens) are far too simplified to reflect the structure of cultivations over the short-, medium- and long-terms, in accordance with local knowledge of agro-ecological variation. It is obvious that indigenous environmental management has transformed Amazonian ecosystems for millennia; this was already evident to many of the nineteenth century European explorers19. Even the most knowledgeable people in the industrialised world have no precise idea of how 'vulnerable' rainforest is and few have accurate knowledge about the political conditions facing indigenous peoples or other human inhabitants of the Amazonian rainforest. With respect to NWA, even the most determined researcher would have problems accessing this information. It is often said that the rainforests of Amazonia are the 'lungs of the planet' (S.33), a metaphor used to emphasise the region's role in the carbon cycle, especially the absorption of CO2. This is somewhat ironic given that our own lungs actually consume oxygen and release CO2 during respiration. Indigenous people have been portrayed as villains or victims depending on the observer and the moment of observation. When portrayed as victims the picture is something like this: the wise guardians of the rainforest are obliged by violence to sell their natural resources or abandon their noble environmental practices. The role of violence in the functioning of extractive economies has been well documented. Violent coercion has been the dominant system in NWA for more than a century. Although indigenous people are no longer sold, 'debt-peonage' systems still dominate and exploit poor indigenous and immigrant inhabitants of 18 See Forero 2001, " The march of the Manikins: Agroforestry Practices and Spiritual Dancing in Northwest Amazonia". 19 See Forero 2002a, " Indigenous Knowledge and the Scientific Mind: Activism or Colonialism". 29 NWA. These people are employed for the harvesting, transport and commercialisation of coca base, cocaine and, the functioning of 'extractive economies' in general (Gómez, A. 1999). But there has been an indigenous response. This has sometimes taken the form of open rebellion and sometimes that of making strategic and tactical alliances in an attempt to obtain or preserve political power, to secure the acquisition of merchandise or simply to survive20. The counter-hegemonic narratives that we mentioned above have been labelled 'populist discourse': making it explicit that the victims are the indians and the villains the international organisations, sometimes allied to transnational corporations (like oil drilling companies) and the dependent and often corrupted governments that collaborate with these international organisations (Adger, Benjaminsen et al. 2001: 687). For NWA there are reports that seem to corroborate these arguments; e.g. indigenous peoples and environmental campaigners have protested jointly in Ecuador and Brazil against the construction of massive pipelines planned to cross through both IRs and PAs in both countries. The pipeline construction projects in both countries have arisen following collaboration between national governments and international oil exploration companies and have provoked public feelings of outrage (Weinberg 2001)21 . " [In NWA] Governments, multilateral lenders, multinational corporations, private banks and other institutions may not be counting on the convenient disappearance of indigenous peoples who get in the way of their ambitious development plans, but they often act as if they are." (Rabben 1998:122) "We who live in indigenous communities are surviving in the midst of a war imposed upon us by different factions and by the very same Colombian state that historically abandoned the countryside and permitted our lands to be invaded by waves of colonizers. Today we are caught in the crossfire, menaced by killings and displacement, while the State manifests its presence in the air with planes that slowly kill our plants and animals, our subsistence crops, and our people." (Organizacion Zonal Indigena del Putumayo_ OZIP 2002) However, is it possible to claim that there is a policy of 'ethnic cleansing' for NWA? From one side the whole issue of national sovereignty has been put into question; the expansion of Plan Andino (formerly Plan Colombia), the USA's anti-drug strategy for Latin America, exemplifies the delicate situation in which some of the Latin American countries have entered the twenty first century. The military component Plan Andino is aimed to support economic measures, the famous and indeed infamous structural adjustment plans that have provoked strikes and rebellions22. Additionally, even if there were an official policy of ethnic cleansing, South American States, given their size and power, would find it difficult to implement 20 See "Indigenous Knowledge and the Scientific Mind: Activism or Colonialism" (Forero 2002a), and "Technology in Northwest Amazonia: Sketches from Inside" (Forero 2002b). 21 For recent (March 2002) press releases on this issue see www.amazonwatch.org and www.americas.org 22 See Forero and Woodgate 2002, "The semantics of 'Human Security' in Northwest Amazonia: between indigenous peoples''Management of the World' and the USA's State Security Policy for Latin America". 30 it. The poor, be they indigenous peoples or colonisers are in the middle of a territorial war linked to international networks of criminality; they have been displaced, kidnapped or killed regardless of their claims of neutrality. In the case of Colombia, although some military authorities have been linked to some of the worst of the paramilitaries' atrocities, it has not been proved that the State itself has a policy of ethnic cleansing. In the case of Brazil, in 1996 the national executive proclaimed Decree 1775, instructing a right to contravene which, contrary to 169 WTO international agreement on Indigenous Peoples' rights, gave other stakeholders the opportunity to challenge Indigenous property rights. Paramilitary groups associated with illegal evictions of indigenous peoples in Brazilian Amazonia have long sought such a 'charter'. At the same time, the decree left the definition of indigenous land rights to the will of the executive power itself (Ministry of Justice). But, as in the case of Colombia, it cannot be proved that there is a policy of ethnic cleansing. It has been suggested in the non-conclusive comments on the survey results, that many people's responses echoed hegemonic and populist narratives. Indigenous peoples were portrayed as heroes or victims, as well as scientists and environmental managers. However, quiet a few of responses cannot be associated with either populist or hegemonic narratives. There is a group of responses that reflect critical thinking and are willing to challenge such simplistic dichotomies. Thus, the concept of sustainable development has been questioned, suspiciousness of western, scientific and technological solutions was expressed, and there was little willingness to give environmental managers carte blanche to prescribe whatever measures they might see fit. Interestingly, this last group, while acknowledging the need for: new concepts and adequate guidelines for environmental management, and the difficulty of achieving conservation targets while complying with indigenous peoples rights, still consider the concepts of SD, PA and IR as useful or the politics derived from them as desirable. What is interesting is that the responses to this survey, which were made by outsiders (respondents were not inhabitants of Amazonia), reflect a tendency to picture the conflict over territory in ways that do not correspond to either of the two main narratives. We can say that inasmuch as outsiders see possibilities for political action outside hegemonic or populist approaches, so Amazonian insiders are organising and negotiating regardless of whether their political discourse echoes either conservative or counter-hegemonic politics of territorial ordering. As no significant statistical analysis could be derived from the survey it would be difficult to speak of tendencies. At first sight it seems that adherence to hegemonic, counter-hegemonic, utopic or conciliatory narratives reflects each respondent's intellectual background more than his or her witnessing of the situation of peoples and forests in Amazonia. However, certain coincidences among the responses to each question might be representative: - For Q1-SD, two out of four of the respondents that accepted the imperative of SD without question have been in Amazon, none of them is a social scientist (SS) though and the other two were environmental managers. None of the SSs 31 that had visited the region argued for complete incompatibility between sustainability and development. Instead, SSs were part of a third group acknowledging that the concept of SD might be of some use, given certain conditions. - For Q2 – the relationship between IRs and PAs, not one of those who argued for the need to harmonise the two concepts (5), or those that emphasised SD as a desirable aim that has not yet been reached (4), or those or that argued that IRs are better than PAs (2) had been to the Amazon (in total 21 % of respondents). Respondents that had visited Amazonia (VA) were among those that acknowledged a relationship between IRs and PAs and that the relationship can be both complementary and competitive. Two respondents from the VA group argued that a complementary relationship was not possible in Colombia and one of them pointed out that being political strategies with different aims they should be kept differentiated in order to avoid conflict. This result might indicate that people that have been in Amazonia are more aware of the problems of territorial ordering caused by the imposition of regimes based in alien concepts. - For Q3 – on the usefulness of the concepts, none the five respondents arguing that IRs might be better that PAs had been in Amazonia, while one of the two that argued that IRs are ineffective had visited. Only one out of five respondents that argued for the need to integrate the concepts had been in Amazonia, while both those that argued for an incompatibility of interests have. This result seems to confirm that people who have visited the area are more conscious of the problems caused when policies formulated elsewhere are imported to Amazonia. Conclusions All technological adoption/adaptation has diverse effects in the life and development of society. People living within the society that is adopting them, and the outsiders that are analysing cultural change perceive these effects in different ways. The assessments of 'usefulness' or 'risk' a society makes when adapting/adopting technologies are linked to the conscious and subconscious present and future scenarios into which the society places itself alongside other societies. If the rest of the world wishes to respect Amazonian indigenous peoples' rights of self-determination, they should not intervene in ordering processes of indigenous territories. The problem is that indigenous ways of dealing with the world might not be compatible with the ideas that foreigners have with respect to Amazonia, its peoples and its future. And, for good or bad, fairly or unfairly, each group has a way of intervening and exercising a certain amount of power to modify the global political agenda for the governance of Amazonia in function of their own particular interests. Replication of narratives is a common strategy used by all groups aiming to make alliances and enhance their power. However, the responses analysed here seem to indicate that a large group of people (at least from the academic sector) is 32 unhappy with the assumptions behind either populists or hegemonic discourses with respect to rainforest management, and seeking new ways of environmental policy making. This group of people acknowledged that political conflict has derived from policy formulated elsewhere, and derived from an epistemology alien to local inhabitants. There are varied political groups competing for the governance of Amazonia. Information and Communication Technology (ICT) facilitates analysis and political action. It is expected that better-informed indigenous peoples would be in a better position to make decisions with respect to the governance of Amazonia. At the present time, the indigenous peoples of Amazonia have very limited and precarious access to ICT. Thus, their perspectives on territorial ordering are less likely to be represented than those such as conservation agencies, multinational developers, insurgent and mafiosi groups, all of which have far superior access to ICT. 33 Appendix 1 PRIVACY POLICY: Email addresses will be used only to send out materials related to this survey. Aggregate survey results may be distributed, but all personal data will be kept strictly confidential. No information about individual users will be disclosed to third parties. 34 Appendix 2 Summary of Web-site technical work The most demanding work was designing the pages that would contain indigenous territorial maps. CAD versions of the map would have to be transformed into image files suitable for Web use. In order to do this ArcView- GIS (Geographical Information Systems) software was needed. A picture of the map could be easily generated in ArcView-GIS and to certain extent, editing and colouring could enhance some features. But such a map or, more precisely, such a picture of the bi-dimensional representation of the Tukano territory remained inadequate for publication in WebPages. "The pics were to heavy" (I would learn the ICT design jargon), meaning that the memory used to storage, loading and unloading of these pictures was vast. Besides dividing the map and generating pictures of several areas, these pictures needed transforming to make them 'lighter'. This meant that the pictures had to be edited and the storage format had to be changed in terms of the colour pallet and resolution (a maximum of 72 dpi). Most importantly, the pictures should look better! An early version of PhotoImpactTM was used to change the colours and other features as well as to design the icons that would be used to identify the hypertext links between pages. However, the software was not appropriate for the task and the 'pics' were still too heavy. The design was poor, too rigid, with inappropriate colours and, worst of all the 'weight' of the maps would not allow for easy loading of the images by potential users. To change the maps (pics) again, PhotoshopTM was used, while major design transformations were achieved using FireworksTM software. For the actual montage and edition of the whole web-site Dreamweaver3TM was used. A similar process was followed to generate the vegetation map, which was adapted from one of the Amazonian Vegetation maps generated by Puerto Rastrojo. The introduction to a political ecology taking as a case study the Yaigojé Resguardo, was originally a single text (like in the preliminary version) but following the advice of critical reviewers, this page was divided into six parts. 35 Appendix 3 Table 1 Q1- Do you think that 'development' and 'sustainability' are compatible? RESPONSE - ARGUMENT SURVEY No. NVA VA Profession Unquestioning the developmental project 2 1 PhD Student Biology 12 1 Environmental Engineer 13 1 Environmental Engineer 40 1 Project Co-ordinator (SD) Yes, to diminish environmental risk 18 1 Student 21 1 Taxation 23 1 Designer 39 1 Postgraduate Student 42 1 Biologist Sustainable Development is an aim to be 3 1 Epidemiologist reached 5 1 Civil Servant 8 1 Accountant 24 1 Student 25 1 PhD St. Agriculture & Development 29 1 Anthropologist 35 1 Lecturer 37 1 Postgraduate Student 48 1 Anthropologist 51 1 Postgraduate Student Compatible if defined locally 5 1 Civil Servant 20 1 Lecturer: Ecotourism 27 1 Anthropologist 31 1 Postgraduate Student 52 1 Lecturer: IT & Development Possible but risk of economic imperative 17 1 Unemployed Incompatible a) Contradiction in terms 24 1 Student 4 1 PhD St. Environmental genetics b) Financial economic imperative 10 1 Student 19 1 PhD St. Agriculture & Development 34 1 PhD Student: Environmental Manager 47 1 PhD Student SD inconsistent at present time 1 1 Lecturer: Env. Sociology 33 1 PhD Student 36 1 Research Engineer 45 1 EM SD is green rhetoric 7 1 Student 32 1 Teacher 48 1 Anthropologist 36 Table 2 Q2 - Do you think there is any relation between 'indigenous reserves' (IR) and 'protected areas' (PA)? RESPONSE - ARGUMENT SURVEY No. NVA VA Profession Yes 37 1 Postgraduate Student 18 1 Student 22 1 Anthropologist 43 1 Anthropologist 50 1 PhD Student No 15 1 Consultant: Health & Safety Need to harmonise IR and PA to protect a) For (IP) Indigenous Peoples' benefit 19 1 PhD St. Agriculture & Development 20 1 Lecturer: Ecoturism b) Protection of Biodiversity 25 1 PhD St. Agriculture & Development 33 1 PhD Student c) SD based on IP experiences 11 1 Consultant: Rural Development. SD as Utopia 3 1 Epidemiologist 6 1 Lecturer Ecology Env. Management 36 1 Research Engineer 42 1 Biologist IR and PA are different political strategies 2 1 PhD Student - Biologist IR and PA are colonisation strategies 10 1 Student 24 1 Student 26 1 Student Indigenous resistance to IR/PA strategies 48 1 Anthropologist IR and PA overlapped 7 1 Student 34 1 PhD St. Environmental Management 44 1 Postgraduate Student Environmental Indian 23 1 Designer 40 1 Project Co-ordinator (SD) Environmental Indians contaminated 12 1 Environmental Engineer by mestizo culture 39 1 Postgraduate Student 45 1 Environmental Manager IR are Inefficient 35 1 Lecturer 53 1 Journalist IR more effective that PA 5 1 Civil Servant 17 1 Unemployed 37 Table 3 Q3 - Do you think that the concepts of 'protected areas' (PA), 'indigenous reserves' (IR) and SD are useful for environmental management today? RESPONSE - ARGUMENT SURVEY No. NVA VA Profession Depends on the context 1 1 Lecturer: Env. Sociology 2 1 PhD St. Biologist Yes 4 1 PhD St. Env. Genetics 14 1 Economist 22 1 Anthropologist Indigenous Environmental 12 1 Environmental Engineer 23 1 Designer 41 1 PhD Student Indigenous Environmental in contamination risk 45 1 EM Concepts: Principles and instruments a) Participation: IR better than PA 5 1 Civil Servant 6 1 Lecturer Ecology EM 11 1 Consultant: Rural Development RD 26 1 Student 41 1 PhD Student b) Intergenerational Equity: resource reserve 12 1 Environmental Engineer for Development 13 1 Agriculturist 21 1 Taxation 25 1 PhD St. Agriculture & Dvnt. 38 1 Gardener (MSc) Risk and Protection a)Environmental Protection (EP) 12 1 Environmental Engineer 17 1 Unemployed EP and catastrophism 6 1 Lecturer Ecology EM 32 1 Teacher 51 1 Postgraduate Student b) Of cultural diversity 31 1 Postgraduate Student IR as ineffective 10 1 Student 24 1 Student Integration of concepts or the need for it 7 1 Student 11 1 Consultant RD 18 1 Student 26 1 Student 34 1 PhD Student Env. Mgment. Difficulties for integration a) Incompatibility of interests 10 1 Student 40 1 Project co-ordinator (SD) b) Financial economic effectiveness' imperative 25 1 PhD St. Agriculture Devent. 30 1 Postgraduate Student 33 1 PhD Student c) Political manipulation 44 1 Post. St. Environment 46 1 Lecturer 38 47 1 PhD Student 48 1 Anthropologist d) Semiotic blur 24 1 Student 50 1 PhD Student Education: Dynamism of the concepts 37 1 Postgraduate Student 45 1 Environmental Manager 47 1 PhD Student 39 Table 4 Q4 - Should or should not environmental managers (EM) get involved in territorial ordering process in Amazon? RESPONSE - ARGUMENT SURVEY No. NVA VA Profession Yes 4 1 PhD St. Evolutionary Genetics In fact they are 22 1 Anthropologist Unsure 52 1 Lecturer: IT & Development 32 1 Teacher Question into Question 6 1 Lecturer Ecology EM 31 1 Postgraduate St Indigenous Peoples as EM 27 1 Anthropologist Yes, for Env. protection (catastrophism) 32 1 Teacher 33 1 PhD Student 42 1 Biologist Yes, EM are the ones (better able that IP) 12 1 Environmental Engineer 18 1 Student 21 1 Taxation 28 1 Lecturer 34 1 PhD student 36 1 Research Engineer 46 1 Lecturer 53 1 Journalist EM provide solutions/ take decisions 23 1 Designer 35 1 Lecturer 38 1 Gardener Yes but listening to others 5 1 Civil Servant 53 1 Journalist If Indigenous Peoples direct EM or projects 1 1 Lecturer: Env. Sociology 10 1 Student 14 1 Economist 41 1 PhD Student EM have equal rights to other stakeholders 2 1 PhD St. Biology 6 1 Lecturer Ecology EM 7 1 Student 29 1 Anthropologist 44 1 Post. Student Not inside IP territories 47 1 PhD Student Yes, if apolitical EM 9 1 Environmental Manager 17 1 Unemployed 37 1 Postgraduate Student Yes for political counteract 26 1 Student EM as facilitators 5 1 Civil Servant 10 1 Student 45 1 Environmental Manager Depends of capacity, ability & quality of EM 24 1 Student 31 1 Postgraduate Student EM tough job: political risk 15 1 Consultant: Health 40 1 Project Co-ordinator (SD) 40 References Adger, W. N., T. A. Benjaminsen, et al. (2001). "Advancing a Political Ecology of Global Environmental Discourses". Development and Change 32: 681-715. Ambrose-Oji, B., T. Allmark, et al. (2002). "The Environmental State and the Forest; of Lookouts, Leopards, and Losers". In The environmental state under pressurence. A. P. J. Mol and F. H. Buttel. Oxford, Elsevier. 10: 149-69. Castells, M. (1996). "The rise of the network society". Cambridge, MA, Blackwell Publishers. Denevan, W. M. (2001). "Cultivated Landscapes of Native Amazonia and the Andes". Oxford and New York, Oxford University Press. Ecologist (2002). Making it happen. Interview to Martin von Hildebrand. The Ecologist. 32: 44-7. Forero, O. A. (1999). From pure sciences to ethnosciences. A broad perspective on ecosystems analysis and governance. Examining the environmental management problems of the Yaigojé Resguardo Indigenous Reserve in the Colombian Amazon. Ecology and Epidemiology Group. Biological Sciences. Coventry, UK, University of Warwick: 233. --- (2000). "Territoriality and Governance in the Colombian Amazon". Conference: SLAS annual conference- 2000, Hull, (Unpublished). --- (2001). "The March of the Manikins. Agroforestry practices and spiritual dancing in Northwest Amazonia". Conference: Conservation and Sustainable Development -Comparative Perspectives, CCR-University of Yale. New Haven, Connecticut, Unpublished. --- (2002a). "Indigenous knowledge and the scientific mind: Activism or Colonialism?" Conference: Activism as History, History as Activism. History Department, Columbia University, New York. --- (2002b). "Technology in Northwest Amazonia: Sketches form Inside. A contribution to the Political Ecology of Northwest Amazonia." Unpublished. Forero, O. A., R. E. Laborde, et al. (1998). "Colombia: Yaigojé Indigenous Resguardo Natural Reserve". In Indigenous Peoples and Diversity Conservation in Latin America. IWGIA. Copenhagen, IWGIA. Doc. 87. Forero, O. A. and G. Woodgate (2002). "The semantics of 'Human Security' in Northwest Amazonia: between indigenous peoples' 'Management of the World' and the USA's State Security Policy for Latin America". In Human Security and the Environment. M. Redclift. Cheltenham UK and Northampton MA, Edward Elgar. Gómez, A. (1999). "Estructuración socioespacial de la Amazonia Colombina, siglos XIX-XX". In Domínguez, C. F. Cubides. Bogotá, CES, Universidad Nacional de Colombia: 21-40. Gómez, R. (1998). "The Nostalgia of Virtual Community. A Study of computer-mediated communications use in Colombian non-governmental organizations". Information Technology and People 11(3): 217-34. Hardin, G. J. (1998). "The Tragedy of the Commons". In Debating the Earth. The Environmental Politics Reader. S. Dryzek and D. Scholosberg. N.Y., Oxford University Press: 23-34. Myers, N. (1980). Conversion of Tropical Moist Forest: A Report prepared for the Committee on Research Priorities in Tropical Biology of the National Research Council. Washington D.C., National Academy of Sciences. OZIP (2002). SOS from Indigenous Peoples of Putumayo, Znet:http://www.zmag.org/content/showarticle.cfm?SectionID=9&ItemID=2122. 2002. Rabben, L. (1998). "Unnatural Selection. The Yanomami, the Kayapó and the Onslaught of Civilisation". London, Pluto Press. Sachs, W. (1977). "'Sustainable Development'". In The International Handbook of Environmental Sociology. M. Redclift and G. Woodgate. Cheltenham, UK Northampton, MA, USA, Edward Elgar: 71-82. ---, Ed. (1993). "Global Ecology. A new arena of political conflict". London, Zed Books. Sevilla_Guzmán, E. and G. Woodgate (1997). "'Sustainable rural development': from industrial agriculture to agroecology". In The International Handbook of Environmental Sociology. M. Redclift and G. Woodgate. Cheltenham, UK Northampton, MA, USA, Edward Elgar: 83-100. Stott, P. (1999). Tropical rain forest: a political ecology of hegemonic mythmaking. IEA Studies on the Environment, No 15. London. 41 Stott, P. and S. Dullivan, Eds. (2000). "Political Ecology: Science, Myth and Power". London and N.Y., Arnold. Varese, S. (1996). "The new Environmentalist Movement of Latin American Indigenous Movement pp." In Valuing Local Knowledge. S. Brush and D. Stabinsky. Washington D.C.: 122-144. Weinberg, B. (2001). "Amazonia: Planning the Final Destruction. Mega-Development Threatens Devastation of Indian Ecologies". Native Americas: Hemisphere Journal of Indigenous Issues 450: Fall/Winter.

Issue 47.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1988. ; A Spirituality of Suffering Issues and .Trends--1987 Advance Health-Care Directives Evaluating Chapters Volume 47 Number,2 March/April 1988 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 edito-rial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO. 63108-3393. REvmw FOR REL=G=OUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. ©1988 by REvmw FOR RELiGiOUS. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: U.S.A. $12.00 a year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add $5.00 per year; for airmail, add $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read M. Anne Maskey, O.S.F. Acting Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors March/April, 1988 Volume 47 Number 2 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW VOR REIoU;IOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave., Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REWEW VOR RE~olt;Iot~S; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on 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. Charism as E powerment to Discerff, to, De.cide,, tO Act, to Assess : F:intan D: Sheeran, SS.CC:. ' ~, Fathbr Fint~n D. 'Sheei'an'is a priest ih the" Congregation of, the Sacred Hearts. He works p~'esently as a.consultant.to religious communities and resides in his Congre-gatio, n's formatjo.,.n.~.c.ommunity, in Ch,everly, ,Ma.ryland: This is ,hi~s first contribution to our pages. He may:be addressed. ~ at Damien House; 6013 Inwood Stre~et;,. Chev-. erl~, Maryland 20785. harles de.,Gaulle.is supposed to have puzzled ove.r the possibility of.gov-erning a people who had more,t~.an three hundred diffeyent cheeses. Per-haps Church authoritie~s~are affli.cted with somewhat similar doubts as they cpntemplate the present state,of religiou~s life .and,especially the pre-sent state,of study and writing 9.n,the re.ligious life. ~Prior .to the CQuncil, a narrowly ju.ridic and0institutional~ u~nderstanding ~i'nd interpretation of re,ligious life0dominated practi.caily all writing and reflection on the sub-ject and there was consider~ible:hom.og.eneity in the field, even by pre-conciliar~ standards. Since the Council, there has been.a rich and continu-i, ng outpouring of reflection as atte,mpts have been and go on being made to understand and to.reinterpret,the religious life from various~vantage pojn~ts including in the light of.dev~eloping experience. The author of~one such ,r.ecent .i~nterpretatip.n, ,Sar~dra .Schnei.ders,. ob.serves about .this, "What a).l~ of t.hese attempts have demonstrated is the richness of the phe-nomenon of religious life and,.the,fecun~dity of approachi.ng its mean!ng fnraotemd b_trhoea dtheero.p.looignyt~s ooff 'rveileiwgi othuasn l itfhee a dt olegamsat tsiicn jcuer itdhiec aCl oounnec tihl.aotf h ~arde ndto. m~iz One fairl3~ prominent feature of all, of this.reflection has been the con-siderable ¯ attention given to charism the charism of, religious life, the charism of founders, the charism of particular congregations. This atten- 161 Review for Religious, March-APr~ il 1988 tion has included reflection by religious themselves, u~sually in a pastor-~ ally oriented way, as an element of such enterprises as rewriting consti-tutions, establishing apostolic criteria or mission statements and so on. Then, forthe first time, there have been statements on charism in offi-cial Church documents. These have been well noted. Evangelica Tes-tificatio speaks of the charism of founders (n. I I ) and Mutuae Relationes of the chai'ism of particular congregations (nn. I l, 12). Finally, charism has been touched on, to a greater or lesser degree, by practically every t.heologian writing comprehensively about the religious life since Vati-can II.2 Among theologian~ none has given more particular attention to the nature and role of charism in religious life than Tillard in line with his strong accent on the religious life as the "following of Christ." I will touch briefly on some of his reflections on charism referring in par-ticular to his There Are Charisms and Charisms.3 What I wish to speak about in this pres.ent article is Charism from a dynamic or "functional" perspective rather than from the point ofview of '~'content," meahing ho~ a charism is a particular Gospel orientation with certain evangelical accents and nuances. I am concerned rather with how a charism "func-tions" if one can speak in such a way, in the ongoing life of a congrega-tion, how it can be a source of life, of unity and of dynamic newness. A religious congregation is born of a Personal and particular experi-ence of Christ and his Spirit, a charismatic experience in the sense that it is the Spirit alone who initiates the encounter that leads to such a re-alization. ".the charism~of the religious life, far from being an im-pulse born of flesh and blood . ~. is the fruit of the Holy Spirit." (Evangelica Testifi~atio n. 11). "The 'charism ~f the founders' (ET n. 11) .appears as 'an experience of the Spirit'." (Mutuae Relationes n. 11). The person is ~eized by the Spirit. To iliuminate this experienc,e Til-lard turns to the New Testament narratives of apostolic vocation and re-sponse. 4 It is Jesus who invites; it is he;who takes the initiative, filling the life of the person ~ind leading them to the service of the kingdom. This divine initiative d0e~ not at :all depend upon any moral excellence on the part of the humarl partner in the encounter nor does it of itself im-mediately :add anything to their moral stature. (This point has larger im-plications with which we are not immediately concerned here with ref-erence to the truth that vocation to the religious life is in no way a call to any "higher" degree or form of holiness than the call of every Chris-tian in virtue of baptism.) It is an encounter with the Risen Lord which reorients the persoh's life creating a mysterious enthusiasm in which ex-planation for the otherwise inexplicably radical response is rooted. As Charism as Empowerment / 16~$ John Lozano remarks, commenting on the call of the apostles: ¯ . .They leave e~,erything--family and occupation--and go off with him. As an event in a chronicle, it would not make any sense. But it is not just any "unknown man" who passes through the account . The center of it all is relationship with Christ, understood, of cou~:se, in a post-resurrecti~on sense, when these accounts were shaped as an ex-pression of faith in theoSon of God.5 For the founder and for every religious, as for the apostles, this fol-lowing of Christ originates in an encounter'which is "charismatic"--it is of Christ and his Spirit. At the deepest level the reason a person be-comes a founder (or a member) of a religious congregation is ": . . not a for . . . but a because of. One does. not become a religious for something, ,with a view to something; one enters the religious life be-cause of JesUs Christ and0his ascendancy.''6 I make these remarks and references centering on the fundamental character of the charism of religious life because while my concern in this article is with the ongoing dynamism of charism in our religious com-munities this dynamism is inseparable from what charism is at root. Be-fore moving along it is also worth no~ting some of the marks of authen-ticity of the charism of a congregati6n, marks which continue to have considerable import for the life of a group. Mutuae Relationes mentions a number of the "true marks of an authentic charism" (12). One of these is a distinct quality of newness. "Every authentic charism brings an ele-ment. of real originality in the spiritual life of the Church along with fresh initiatives for action" (12). (The document does'not fail to note that this very newness may be a cause of difficult);. Most religious congregations can offer some testimony from their history to the truth of this. observa-tion. Nor need they always go back.to the archives to obtain it.) It is help-ful to look at something of the nature of this "newness." . The newness of charism is a n~wness of action and realization and not just of thoughts and words. The charism translates into pastoral life and action on behalf of God's people and not just into words and docu-ments. It is an originality which relates intimately and penetratingly to the reality of a particular time and place. Founders and foundresses are people of their own time, place, and culture, and they have a keen aware-ness of their environment. Moreover, they discover their vocation pre-cisely in the context of that environment. It is in terms of their percep-tion of reality and of their vision and articulation of a response that the newness of the Spirit is revealed. Their concrete pastoral response is a "fresh initiative for action"; ~it is new; it is other than the response (or 16~1 / Review forReligious, .March-April 1988 lack of response) customarily being made by'society .or tt~e Church to this part!cular need. In facL it frequently reveals the~pgvert~y of the percep-tion and the.ineptitude.of the response of the Church~and of society ~gener-ally. No wonder, as Mutua'e Relationes delicatel,y remarks, such re-sponses "~ay appear unseasonable to many." A further trem(ndously powerful element of the'freshness and :new-ness of c,harism is an aspect of which we are be(oming more awa~re. It is that the charism empo.wers the ,founders of religiou_s_:congregations to anticipate and to shape the,future in concretely effective~ways. Charism is, by its. very nature futtire-0riented. But it is an,orientation filled with purpose and with the power to achieve its purpose. This becomes clear when we read the histories.of our congregations in. the light of whatis for u~ arelatively recent perception: that history procee~ds, from, the choices, decisions and actidns 9f individuals'and particularly of groups, organized groups,of all osorts--politic'alo parties,, unions, corporations, churches, and so forth. Social realities are, the result, of human choices and decisions made in the context of economic, social,.political alterna-- tires and not simply the product~ of blind 'processes. and intractable natu-ral. forces. These actions ot~ individuals and groups create structures and systems 'whiCh in turn condition and limit our perception and options. The Shape of our society is chosen. The choi(es and action of the Church and its commuhities"fall within this complex. A~social history of eight-eenth- and nineteenth-century Europe."would surely show that society~as it was then constituted required .and secured the existence of large masses of illiierate poor in order to maintain itself as it actually was. When in-spired women and men commiited themselves to creating religious con, gregations who would,educate and care for the. illiterate poor, they did much ~more than perform an immediate work of mercy~--they became ef-fective ~gent.s of social transformation. They anticipated and shaped an alternate, future, a "new" future. The "newness" which has charism as its source is dynamic and creative; it "renews the face of the earth," "In realit.y, the charism of the religious life . . is the fruit of the Holy Spirit, who is always at work within the Church.'. It is precisely here that the dynamism pr.oper.to each religious.famil3) finds its origin" (ET, 11). My concern with charism ~is exactly with the dynamism proper to religious congregations not simply as regards their origins but more as regards their ongoing life and mission. Again the actual experience of the foundersand foundresses is illuminating. Orie significant practi, cal outcome o~f~a renewed .focus on~ charism in many congregatiQns has been the serious study given to the lives of the founders anti, also in some charism as Empowerment / 165 instances to congregations" initial or "'primitive" commt~nities. These studies have been motivat(d by a~desire to rediscover th~ originating his-tory of the community as it really was and especially to know the persoh oLthe founder or foundress freed from the m3~ths and apocrypha which had often accumulated over years of neglect of critical history. Almost invariably, the result has been someth.ing like the restoration or,rediscov-ery of the work of Michaelangelo in the Sistine Chapel. Anyone who has had the opportunity to be present while the work of restoration in' the Chapel has been going on has to have been powerfully impressed by see-ing the ~"old" and the. "new" side by side. From behind the dust and debris of years thereoemerges into the light astonishingly rich and pow-erful portraits, far more striking and iml6ressive than the painting that had been accepted as authentic for years. Similarly, the women and men with whom we come into contact in recent studies of foundress~s and foun-ders ~re~p.eople'of'vividly living faith, of prophetic imagination and origi-nality; they are deeply human people with 'a'great stor~e of practicality arid common sense; men and women who were wholly, given to the Church'e~,en as they'had the insight and courage to name its needs and to confront its resistan~'eg.7 What had passed for authentic portraits had frequently~obscured a more~brilliant reality. Because of the ~i+ailability of many such Studies~ it is also possible to see, in very rough outline certainly, but perhii~ps more clearly than be-fore, something of a c6ifirhon pattern' of'movi~ment marking these jour-neys that culminate in the foundation of ~ congregation. What we are lo6k-ing at is the historical realization of charisms, their taking on concrete form and incarnation in real people, real groups. I beliexie that there is a movem6nt'inv01ved which has a typical~ rhythm, one marked by dis-tinct phases or "moments." There is an initial moment of sear6h~iSt dis: cernment with regard to the'authenticity of the call tO move in the di~'ec-tion of commencing a project; there i~ a moment of definite ch6ice 'or decision; there is a rn'oment.of action and finally a moment of assessment or evaluation. The word "moment" could be misleading. While deci-sion or choice is always in itself a m~tter of a moment'whatever the prece-dents, the actual history of ]~oundations shows clearly that the other so-called moments can be a matter of a Io,ng time, many years even; or of a relatively short period. It'varies greatly from one founder or foundress to another but these moments as such are, I believe, discernible in their histories. Obviously these moments are0quite ordinary in the sense that th~ey represent the elements of any careful decision-making and action process; in that sense they are to be expected,. Our interest in,them, how- 166 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 ever, is in how in fact they take on a distinctively "charismatic" char-acter, how they embody the "functional dynamics" of charism, how in this sense they. are utterly.di.,stinctive. . The moment of search or discernment is that period when the per-son begins to be aware of being called by God in a special way but as yet lacks assurance about this. They wonder, pray: seek counsel. Clearly there are instances where this moment stretched on for years, where the interval between the first intuition and the moment of decision was con-siderable. The time of search is followed by a moment of decision. The person now sets aside all doubts about their call and embraces the invitation of the Lord wholeheartedly and without reserve. Choice is made and com-plete commitment. One way that this new and profound option is mani-fested in the life of the person concerned i.s by an important change in their language. A confident assurance that their inspiration is from God, prev!ously absent, now marks their expression. What in other circum-stances might be regarded as simply pious phrases or even trite expres-sions take on a clear and undeniable authority and power. Such phrases as, "This is God's will" or "This is the will of ~Divine Providence" or "This is God's work" are now used in reference to their efforts. There is a new transparency of purpose; a clear~, simple and confident assurance marks their speech, as indeed a great courage,° freedom and enthusiasm marks their conduct, about the enterprise. These very quali-ties are, without doubt, key to their capacity to attract others to join them. The third moment is.the moment of actign, of doing the thing that they are called to do, gathering people together in a spirit of mission. The moment of decision and the moment of action are not the same. There c~an be instances where the decision has indeed been made but ac-tion is delayed. In the history of the foundation of my own congregation there is an example of the founder making a decision to commit himself to the project of foundation and then delaying to act on the decision. In the event he felt himself to be called to account by the Lord and repented of his delay. ~. The charism of founding a congregation comes to fruition and real-ity only when the group actually, exists and from,the beginning the un-folding of the project in fact will always involve the unforeseen and un-foreseeable. It may be better not to think of the charis.m of a founder as separated from fits realization in the original group. In a sense the foun-der or foundress must wait to 'see what God has wrought but there is ai- Charism as Empowerment / 167 ways an intuition and sense of what the new community must~be which is key to judgment on its development. While it is never a question of checking against a preexisting blueprint, there is a need to assess and to assure fidelity to the inspiration which called it into being. This moment has parti(ular significance for the founder and for the primitive commu-nity but it is a moment which must continue as long as the community endures. So indeed must all of these moments in their own way. They comprise the charism in action, the "dynamism proper to each religious family." What I wish to suggest now is that this same rhythm, these same mo-ments must continue to mark the "functional dynamics" of the charism as it exists and is exercised in a congregation. Mutuae Relationes (11) speaks of.the charism of the founders which ".hppears as 'an expe-rience of the Spirit' transmitted to their followers to be lived by them, to be preserved, deepened and constantly, developed in harmony with the Body of Christ continually in a process of growth." The charism enables" the group to search and discern what it must be and do, what must be its way of life and of pastoral action in response to the world in which it finds itselfand to do this with a certain perspective, a certain orienta-tion and point of view, a particular spirit. ~ The implication is that the group must actively.commit itself as a group to such search and discernment evdn as the founder or foundress did. It is a search by the group in such fashion that if must guard and foster that level of unity which alone makes corporate search possible. This search in turn deepens and strengthens the real unity of the group. A province, for example, needs to identify and tO sustain the processes and structures which make a group or corporate reflection and search pos-sible as a province in a stable rather than a merely elbisodic manner: Lead-ers need to'know how to promote and foster such processes of reflection and the structures they require. The charism of a group is riot "auto-matic" nor does it function in any magical way. It can remain virtually inoperative for want of sufficient cohesion within the group or for lack of sustained 6ommunal processes. The charism enables the group to search out what it must be and do and to what it must commit itself in the power of the Spirit, animated by precisely those attitudes and values which constitute the "content'" of the charism, meaning that particular Gospel orientation or accent which characterizes every charism. The grbup is enabled to make judgments which are inspired by the same spirit which animated the founding vision. More, they can experience a confi-dence in their capacity for authentic and profoundly religious newness 161~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 in their.:pastoral responses. As with the founder 9r f0undress, it is Jesus who in~,ites;.it is he who takes the init!ative.leading us in. service to the kingdom in,this time and this place. Nor is that initiative~depe_ndent on any spl.endid historic achievement b.y the congregation orieven on ;the measure of its present, resources: But process and structure are necess~ary. The processless,~ s~ructure!ess~co.ngregation or.province is a mirage, Which is not to say, ho.wever, that the processes and structures must.be t.his.or, that~type, an.d even less that there i~s only one acceptable _form. While the cultivation and sustenance of process and structure make~ par~ ticular demands on,!eadership, it is also one,area.where the real mean-i. ng o.f" membership"~_ is tested. Real living commitment, to the commu-nity demandsoand is .revealed in a real investment of time, energy and presence in. its pro.cesses and structur.e~. C, ommitm~nt ,to the,"spjrit of the. cgngregation. ," while h.a.ving no time for its. process.es, is commit-ment. to the dance w~hile disdaining the steps; it becomes increasingly, ethe-real. ~ ~. ¯ . ~., ~- .- .~ ~ Secondly,, the .charism enables a group to. make decisions and choices whic_h ar~e faithful expressions of the charism oitself. It is a.grace which leads to and-enables choices made for the sake of the kingd0m,and bear-ing the mark of a certain spirit and orientation. Some groups find it prac-tically impossible~ to make real decisi0.ns and diffiRult choices. People go through .the for.ms and moti0ns~of, decision-makin~g, 9t. chapte.rs ,for ex-a. rnple., only.to, discover in time that no real commitment had been gen-erated and that implementation is_ unlikely or impossi.ble.There had,been only the,~.utward app~earance.of dec.!sion. It is.not a questiQn of .bad faith but.of processes in, adequate to the challenge. Of eyoking commitment at deep level. One of the dynamic ':,fu.nctions" of charism is to empow~er and enable the group to truly choose and gen~uinelydecide; to risk, to surrender, .to be converted. At a time when all of our, congregation~.s.ar~e. confronted~ wit.h, chali,.en.ging choices of serious consequence,, this is, an area where we read.ily experience.both the neeod that, charism play its em-powering ¯ role and tha!0we be open. to .it. -The charism further enables the group,to act and to act corporately. This means that the charism enables in the.group that level of, shared per-ception and vision, of shared aspiration and intent, w, ithout which cor-porate choice and action are impossible. And it empower.s, apos.tolic 9c-tion. "Corporat.e action" js not a .question of everybody, doing the same thing but rather that the members.of t.he group act~by intent in .the~iight of a shared vision of, direction which can give uni.ty and .c.oherenceto quite varied _ministries. For example, a group .may-have achieved a Charism as.Empowerment / 1169 shared understanding of.what '.'evangelization" means in this particu, lar place and time and, though in the.service of that vision:the members. pursfie quite diverse ministries, they are aware that they pursuea com-mon goal,. On the contrary it can happen that people exercise th'e same ministry (even hll te~iching in the'same school; for example) withotit hav-ing any shared visionOf what, they are doing or even having quite 6p-posed perceptions of ~hat it is that.they are about. " ' ~ Finally the charism enables th~ "group to assess its decisions add choices~ i!,s orier~tati~ons and actions in terms of fidelity to th~ founding ifispiratio~i and ~esp~si.veness to current needs. I re~eat here without. ~ilab~ratii~n ~th~t all Of this does not happen aiatomatically. It demands susz' tained effd~t I~y the~r~tip p~ec.i~sely, as a group ~r~d it is ~,i~rtually !n~pos'- sible without having in pla.,Ce;oin a stable way, those processes and struc-tures which ~ak~e bngoin~or~orate rei'lection,~choice 'and'~actiofi the'nor-m'al way Of life of the group~.°These 'processes and structures will vary, greatly from gr6up~°to group depending on their h.~story and trad~tlon~s,. their niamb~rs, ~g~ographical dispersion, and so forth.- I must point Out that while i tiavetried in thi~ ~irticqb to k6ep the "c6n-tent'" of charism and°its' "dyna~aic functi~_.n" separate, in th'~ end this is, of cgurs6, impossible and it'seems more especially so now in these time's thah ever. The "functioning of a religious congregation ~s ~n-s'eparabl~ .from its id~n~ti.ty, 'fro~ the radical meaning of its ~li~;e in°the Chu~'~h "/~ffci just as the f'6under ~nd (o'undress discovered their v~ocation , . .~ ~,; ~ - _ , . ~ o , o "~ ~ . : . - and ~ts meamng and shaped what they d~d and how'they d~d ~t ~n the con-text df their envir6nment, so do we. A sh~arp aware~ness of the i'6ality of our world and of. our place in it is as much a par~ of out vocation's iri-" gredi~nts ~is it was that 6f our fo'u'fiders ~nd foundres'ses. And we have avail~ble to us by God;S gift~,inst~:uha'ents and r~6ans for awareness; for takir~ cri{icai dista~e and for critic~ii~nalysis whicl~ th'.ey did riot. Tti~se are means which can enhance our capacity for pt:ophEtic dis~ernmeni, choice and.action,, means~which are immeasurably deepened and sharp-ened by the charismatic gifts that root the life'of.the congregation. I~'wouli:l conclude with a brief comment on the relationship between the charism of a religious congregation and the place of the c6ngrega-tion in t~ local ChUrch. The first obedience owed by every religi6us ~con-gregati'oia tc~ tile Church isto be faithfully itself. As a ~ift' given by the Spirit io the Churcl~'a congi'~gati6n remaihs "useful" to the extent that it remains faithful to its charism. If it is authentic, this ~lways'r~eans deeper ~olidafity with the olife and' ministry of the Church.This deeper solidarity is not just a matter of rendering more services or of undiscrimi- 170 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 nated availability. Rather it is a matter of living and acting as a congre-gation in the Church more and more in virtue of the charism. "The re-ligious life is a state within the Church, not just in the sense that it op-erates within the Church, receives grace from the Church and is legally sanctioned by the Church, but in the sense that it shares in a.special way in the mystery of the Church, is one of her organs through which, the Chi~rch perfects her own life."8 The charism is the first medium of our solidarity with the Church as a congregation. And so we bring to the lo-cal Church, for example, not only ministers and services, but a particu-lar point of View, a particular capacity for discernment needed by the Church,~a. capacity for choices, actions~, assessments, illuminated by a definite Gospel inspiration. Solidarity with the Church, in turn, evokes and animates ih~e~charism of a congregation. A congregation can therefore be profoundly obedient to its charism and to the Church to the degree that it is integrated in the life of the Church. Where the local Church strives to be a Church which integrates all of its m~mbers in its life and mission, in its discernment and decision-making, it gre.atly facilitates the deepest obedience of religious congre-gations. Where the local Church integr.ates all of its members in a search for God's ,will for his Church, in choosing direction for its mission and in implementing, its decision~, in such a Church, the charism of the reli-gious congrega[ion, a gift given for the Church, will grow to full stat-ure. Such obedience must never be substituted by a mere rendering of services in an undisce,,rned way even---or especially when there is much regi~rd for service and little appreciation of the meaning of charism and of its role in the Church. I offer here a brief ~uote from Bishoia Stanley Schlarman of Dodge City. In January o~" thins year' I~e wrote a pastoral letter to his people in which he reflected on religious life in the light of the dialogue with the religious of his diocese. , Furthermpre because religious become even more skilled in searching out God's will together, they can initiate new ways of answering the needs of the times, even taking risks, when needed on behalf of the poor and oppressed . In the light of these reflections I want to invite each person in our dibc~san family into a Trinity experience of community through knbwl-edge and love, dialogue and respect, and the mutual s6pport of one an-other's vocation.9 For religious that is an invitation to charismatic life, dynamism and newness. Charism as Empowerment / 17'1 NOTES ~ Sandra M. Schneiders, New Wineskins, (New York: Paulist Press, 1986) p. 28. 2 For a very useful survey of writing on charism see M. Midali, "Contemporary Theo-logical Trends in The Charism of Religious Life: A Gift of the Spirit to Church and World" USG. (Rome, 1981). 3 j. M. R. Tillard, There Are Charisms and Charisms, trans. O. Prendergast, (Brus-sels, Lumen Vitae, 1977). '* lbid, p. 41 ft. 5 John M. Lozano, Life As Parable (New York: Paulist Press, 1986) p. 28. 6 j. M. R. Tillard, op. cit., p. 56. 7 Francis J. Maioney, Disciples and Prophets, (New York: Crossroad, 1986) pp. 161- 2. Maloney stresses especially the prophetic dimension of religious life and of the role of founders and foundresses. 8 Friedrich Wulf, Decree on the Ai~propriate Renewal of Religious Life: Commen-tary on'the Documents of Vatican II, Vol. !I (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968) pp. 669-70. 9 Bishop Stanley Schlarman, "Reflections on a Dialogue With Religious," Origins, March 5, 1987, pp. 669-70. ApostOlate of the Moment Frank Quinlivan, C.S.C. Father Quinlivan,is director of, his novitiate and,has served as a missionary. He may be addressed at Holy Cross Novitiate; P.O. Box 749;,Cascade, Colorado 80809. ~kctive religious life has a rootlessness to it. Religious are a truly pilgrim people. We move on. We are seldom anywhere long enough to put down deep and permanent roots. We enter.into the lives of others and they en-ter our lives, but we pass through each other's lives. It is not uncommon for us to long for more "normalcy" in our lives--what we see as some permanence and stability, a place to pitch our tent for more than a season, a set of relationships which endure. Min-istry today, however, seldom affords us this. Even those whose ministry allows them to be in one place for an ex-tended period of time still find a certain rootlessness because in our highly mobile and nuclear society the people ai'ound us move on. Hos-pitals and schools have a built-in turnover of people. Today urban par-ishes see a large and continuous flow of people in and out. The pace of change is rapid. Perhaps most disconcerting of all is to look back and see that we have left few, if any, permanent marks behind us. So many years and so much effort leave little to show. The things we began, the work we did has ceased to exist or else has been greatly altered. The lives we touched have moved on and changed. We quite literally "lose track." We enter into many lives. That is what ministry is. We enter into people's lives in significant ways. We are there in a special way, invited into the hearts and consciences of people in a moment of pain, of joy, of growth or healing. But where are those people now? Maybe we still get Christmas cards from a few of them. 172 Apostolate of the, Moment / 173 ¯ ' 'Did our ministry make a difference a long-term, lasting differefice? Sometimes we may know, but'usually we.don'-t., In-an effort to p¢ofessionalize our ministry we have learned to do a great deal of lo'ng-ran~e planning and goal setting, of clarification bf ob- ¯ jectives and intensive evaluations. Ou~: experience of ministry, however, is" often that we ehd up walking a path that we did not envision and through areas that w~ 'have not charted. We can take the tools of management and apply them to ministry. They cfin help; 15uttheir applicati6n is ne~r perfect. If we do not lobk at ministry~as often perhaps most often unexpected, unplann+d, mo-meritai'y ~ind without measurable long-term consequences, we will be building up gomething Which can 6nly be frustrated and frustrating. It is important that we see much of ministry as an ap.ostolate of the moment. We are here now in this place with this person and it has, made a difference at this time inthis iife and that is enough. Fieeting contacts between pe~pJe where something human happens, often unplanned and impo.s'sible to follow up on, are how the history of the kipgdom and of ministry are most often written. This pers~)n was min-istered to at this moment,, l,oved, served, ,forgiven, encourage~d. There was,, a pointof huma~n~ con, tact, a sharing, a totJ~hing,, ~eemingly not sig-nificant, nor planned and, perhaps, not even remembered, but,this was the building of the_ kingdom. We move through others' lives and they thro~ugh ours, often in a.jum-ble, but the.points of intersection and meeting are the way. We,do not know, where fully ninety percent of them are-now. It is enough that their Way and our way crossed. ~ When we have aplan, be it for our lives or for only the day; we tend. to get very upset by interruptions. The in,terruptions, perhaps, are what we are meant to be doing. As'ministers we~are meant to be interrupted. ~ This is not an argument against planning and evaluation, or against efforts to make ministers "more professional: It is an argument, however, fOrothe" need to realize that ministry'does not°often ,fit into these catego-ries. It ,is possible .for us, like so many people,, to so live and work in the past or in the future, that we fail to,understand the,importance of the present moment. Yet it is in this.very moment that ministry is done.:" Our very rootlessness, as disboncerting'as it can be for us, is a key factorin our ministry. It allox;vs us to be.present this moment, the time when ministry.is done. It allows us to'be true agents,of the kingdom which is built up by many cups of cold wate~ given~in Jesus? name., 174 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 The apostolate of the moment is tied to our definition of .success. The normal definition of success hinges on things which we can point to and count, marks left behind which are permanent and observable. Ministry affords us little of this. How are we to know that weare ~uccessful min-isters, ,when. we have so little to "show"? All of us have been to funerals in our community when an elderly religious is laid to rest. We can ihink:of the countless lives he or she has touched. We can think of the thousands of points of intersection where his or her life and works touched ~nother's. Yet when they die, other than the community, there is usually no one else there.~ Most of the peo-ple they ministered to, in those special moments, are not aware of their death, do not remember the moment of ministry, do not recall even their name. Success in ministry, in our apostolate of the moment, cannot be meas-ured by conventional standards of success. Lives, may hav~ been touched profoundly, deep change~ may have occurred, but our rootlessness will mean that we will often never even know this. Jesus speaks of salt and seeds and yeast: They "are little things, seem-ingly insignificant, that effect great works, u~ually unseen, transformed into something else, hidden from notice, known only if they are lack-ing. This is'~how the success of our apostolate of~the moment must be understood. Let us attempt to plan and .to evaluate, but let us also understand our apostolate of the moment. Each human life is God-given and precious, beyond all value. Each moment of each life is precious and invaluable. That we are there in this moment is tremendously important. If there be an enduring effect or long-range consequence, we may never know. It is enough simply that we were there at that moment. A final word. Jesus tells us that he is the vine and we are the branches. When we reflect on ~his and on our rootlessness, there is much to learn. A branch does not have rootsoof its own. Separated from the vine it will die, but it is rooted in and through the vine. What weexperi-ence as rootlessness is, in truth, deeply rooted in Jesus. All ministry is his. The branches may grow in all directions; but the vine ties them to-gether and ~provides them .with root and life. The branches are often pruned and cut back so that there may be new growth in new directions, but they are neveruproote.d or cut off from the vine entirely. Much of our ministry is momentary, but its significance is eternal. Jesus told us that even a cup of cold water, given in passing, was not without lasting, even eternal significance. Apos~tolate of"the Moment / 175 It is difficult ifor us to be content with an apostolate of the moment. It would be satisfying to be able to see enduring effect and accomplish-ment. Our planning actually accounts for little of what we end up doing and there is so little visible to evaluate. It is, in the end, a matter of deep faith that we will not show up empty-handed before the Lord, but rather loaded down with a great deal of fruit despite being so rootless. Thief You kissed me - a Child of five - and stole my heart away. You called me - a girl of fourteen - and became h~y "first love." You covenanted me - a young woman - and bound me to You, eternally. O, gentle Thief, never give me away, nor ever set rile free! Claire Mahaney, R.S.C.J. Valparaiso Community 140 Valparaiso Avenue Menlo Park, California 94025 Eoaluating General and Provincial Chapters Gerald A. A~buckle, s.M. Father Arbuckle continues to give workshops on "refounding" religious life and to write for this review. His "Beyond Frontiers: The Supranational Challenge of the Gospel" appeared in the May/June 1987 isSue. His permanent mailing address is: East Asian Pastoral Institute; P.O. Box ~1815; Manila 2800; Philippines. Come now, let us talk this over, says Yahweh (Is 1.'18). People differ about the effectiveness of general and provincial chapters they attend. In the evaluations of a general chapter held recently, par-ticipants varied in'their assessment. Some were thoroughly satisfied; oth-ers felt that it was a useless experience since ~participants were not.com-mitted to implement the chapter's mission statement and decisions. Oth-ers claimed the chapter ignored'realities, while some felt that they had been manipulated by well-organized groups. Who is right? Without some objective criteria to judge the chapter by, it is impossible to even begin to answer that~question. This article is an attempt to offer sonie ~ciological and faith criteria to help readers evaluate their chapters. It is not in, any way an exhaus-tive study on how to assess the effe~tiyeness of chapters. My aim sim-ply is to answer this question: Are there certain attitudes, ways of look-ing at the world, procedural methods,, and ideologies which hinder or facilitate the work of chapt6i's? I will concentrate on general chapters, but my comments will apply with only very minor adjustments to provincial chapters. To aid in ~y analysis I will list a selection of comments by participants of general chap-ters held from 1971 to 1985 and then use them as catalysts for my own 176 Evaluating Chapters /:177 evaluatiofi of,such gath6rings. Hopefully, readers will be able to iden-tify from their own experience with several of these comments and. then be helped by my .,a.ssessment. I will proceed by defining,the nature and aims of a general chapter; by recording various comments by participants of general chapters; and then by evaluating thes~,corfihaents in lighi 6f sociological and:faith, criteria. ', Aims ~f ~en~r~i,,c]t~pters ,.~ "; ~dd~lly,° 'a general chapter, "aft a ~'ign of unit~, in charity," ~ho~u.ld be "a moment of grace and of the action of the Hbly Spirit in an insti-tute. It should be a joyful, paschal,, and ecclesial'experience which bene-fits the institute itself and also the ,whole Church.-The,general chapter is meant to renew and protect the spiritual patrimony of the institute as well as elect the highest superior ahd councilors; conduct major, matters of business, and issue norms for the whole institute.''~ There are two key emphases in this. desc~ription: the apostolic .calls to w~tness h~r6 a'ntt now and to plan for the futur6. I ffill~expI~iin briefly what ~acl~ em a~is means. In order to ffitnes~ h'ere and now, 'ihe chapter is to I~ a faith experi-ence, a cooperative action of both the Holy Si~irit ~nd the" memb~i's of the chapter. It is to be to the.Church and to the,congregation a vivid com-munity expression of,g.osl~el°charity and joy;:.comm~union will .arise out of a pro~cess bf personal a~nd .corporate convers~ign. ~ , . In planning for the~future, t.he chapter is. to,c.a, II the congregation to be accountable to the ideals of the Gospel and its charism, praising crea-tive apostolic, initiatives' and correcting aberrations since the: last chap-ter. It should establish~policies that~ relate the congregation's-charism, ap-ostolic life, and personnel resources to the ever changing pastoral needs of the People of Gbd. It is to.elect,the,highes(officer and his or her~ as-sistants on the basis of their abiliti~e~ to4ead~and inspire ~the 6ongregation to conversion, to its faith-and-justice mission, and tb the implementation of the chapter's policies and decisions.~ It should, call p.a,~icipants to com-mit themselves to lead within the~pr~ovi~ces i'fi impl~m~i~ing thee policies and decrees of the chapter. The two calls'are" complementary. 0n~ m~st not e~i~t:without the other. If all the chapter does is to formulate polici.es for the coming years, it is no different.than a commercial board of directgr~ which meets to plan and choose its executive officers. If, on the other hand, the mem-bers believe that all they have to doAs pray and live in charity and thus fail to prepare theologically and in every,,other way necessary to make sound pastoral and religious-life policies,, ~then they gravely misunder- 178 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 stand the incarnational role of the apostolic Christian and so of their con-gregation; they are running away'from serious obligations, taking refuge in a false spirituality or supernaturalism (see Lk 6~46-49). Reflections on Reality Do chapters in fact realize this twofold.call? To help readers answer this question, ~ list some evaluative comments of the participants 0f sev-eral chapters; then I attempt to assess them in tile light of the ideals for cha~ters given above. i. "No outward conflicts, but~there was too much pressure for con-sensus .in all things. The time for divisions was over, we were told. The consensus just covered over deep divisions; I "and others became in-tensely angry because of this. The chapter was not a reconciling event that it is said to have been." 2. "The c~hapter was to be a time for dialogue, yet it was riddled with conflicts. Some group said they were out to bring reality into the chap-ter. They caused conflicts all the time, refusing to listen to contrary views. We agreed on nothing." 3. "I tried to raise the important initial-formation issue, but the emo-tional reaction and pressure of the group against it was so great that I had to drop it. I was marginalized for proposing a discussion. So we strug-gle in ignorance for. six mor6 years about formation." 4. "We had a good chapter, since we stressed the discernment pro-cess, downplayed debates and the study of reports on the congregation." 5. ~'I feel unhappy with our chapter. One national group effectively stopped the discernment process. 'We don't decide things by prayer! That's pre-Vatican pie.ty,' they said." 6. "Some participants held back from sha~ring their views until they had ihe right momeni for maximum impact; they would not listen to others. I thought they used their silence as power to manipulate us." 7. "People say that there sfiould never be conflicts, but only'consensus' on issues. This puzzles me. Perhaps disceinment might'help." 8. "I feel the chapter was an experience of grace. I did not feel the under-" ~urrent of ideological pressure groups, power movements, national/ cultural lobbying, that characterized our last chapter." Evaluating Chapters 9. "There was hardheaded debate, but a spirit of listening, openness to reports of the world we must be evangelizing, an experience 0f rec-onciliation and sisterhood. I believe there was a deep conversion to the Lord in all of us. Discernment, research, and prayerful preparation helped. Decisions are being now implemented." 10. "Every now and then our chapter made self-congratulatory expres-sions or decisions that were so unreal. You would think that the whole world was waiting on every word, yearning to be led by a dynamic con-gregation, well equipped for apostolic action. We wrote a mission state-ment,- but ignored priority of apostolic needs, the insights of theologi-cal e.xperts--anything, it seems, that would have embarrassed us to face the poverty of our spiritual and human resources. We had warm, comfort-ing liturgieS. It made people feel good. What a sad, escapist experi-ence!" I I. "'We wrote many documents, including a mission statement. We felt we had accomplished much because we did a lot of writing, but the real issue of conversion remains unconfronted." 12. "I was frightened by the repeated labeling of participants as 'right-ists' or 'leftists.' If you were classed as a leftist by one vocal group, there was nothing one could do wrong in the chap~ter. Groups, especially some national groups, spoke of 'winning or losing battles,' obviously rejoicing when rivals were 'conquered.' " 13. "It was a prayerful chapter. We got to the painful issues, and made good decisions. Now, several month~ later,participants are not inter-ested in doing anything about the decisions." 14. "Two sma!l, but vocal, groups struggled to dominate or manipu-late our chapter. One group wanted by force of law to restore the status quo, the opposite group wanted.change to be,imposed by law on all of us. Both were humorless, almost fanatical." Some of these comments are optimistic, but, overall, respondents are uneasy about the effectiveness of'their chapters. Given the frequent, un-critical 'use of such value~charged sociological terms as "conflict" and "consensus," I estimate that their unease is justified. I suspect that sev-eral chapters described by participants were insensitive to how power can be manipulated, sometimes by people with immense goodwill but with little knowledge of the social sciences, in ways that are quite contrary to gospel values. Review for Religious, March-April 1988 Because of the confusion that Can exist about how a culture or group functions?internally, a, confusion evideht in the comments listed, my task is now to, ex.plain the n'ature-and function of two popular models of so-cieties: the confliCt arid ~the consensus models; this will necessitate an analysis of the strengths and weaknesses'oUsociological models in gen-eral. Also, after showing how these two models can be misused w~hen applied to the'an, al.ysis of r~li~iOus~congregations., I,shali ~xialain the role of di~ce~'nment in m~k.ing'decisions. Models of Society , - A model, o~: ideal-type, analysis denotes a~particular and popular method of sociological investigation of society. An idea.! type i~ an "ex-aggerat! on',' .of cert,/in features which tend to be present in society; once the type is constructed by ttie researcher; ~i°concrete s'ittiation can then be better understood by means of comparison with the ideal type. For ex-ample, the researcher concludes that a particu, lar society is like, or di-verges from,~the ideal type in this or that way. Ideal-types have been con-structed, for example, of capitalism, communism, bureaucracy, and pre- Vatican II religiouscongregational governments.3 In summary, an ideal type has the following qualitieS: First, it is not "ideal" ir~ an ethical way. Secondly, it is rather "ideal" in a logical sense;it is freely d~signed by the researcher in an effort to better ~om-preh~ nd reality by isolating, accehtuating or emphgsi~ing, arid artiCulat-ing the elements of a recurrent social phenomenon (bureaucracy~ for ex-ample) into an internally consistent system of relationship. Thirdly, an ideal~type in no way em.b~.~ces all details of the~rea!ity; the aim, as opted, is to emphasize or highlight "significant" recurrent social phenomena. This means that various aspects of society are not included in the model because they do, not fit its Overall purpose or focus~ Hence, to get the best possible analysis of a social situation~, it would be.important to construct several ideal types for analytical use. The response can then be integrated to give a fuller picture of the sit'uation. ~ Fourthly, ideal types are not hypotheses; they are not falsified if they are not, fully substantiated in a particular situation or even,at all, but they are research aids in the building of hypotheses, Fifthly, ideal types gen~ erally are~really scientific refinements of~ common sense. ,For example, the fact!that people use,(even correctly) the two models we describe be-low (consensus and conflict models) does not necessarily mean,~they°are trained social scientists. It ma~, mean that they instinctively.feel, for.~what-ever~ reason~ comfortable, with the emphases that .the models describe~ Moreover, some models, such as the two we are to describe, have.~be~ Evaluating. ~hapters / 181 comepopular!zed in all l~inds of literature, so that the nonexpert" readily absorbs the language particular to the models ,and thus uses it in ways that may or may not be sociologically exact. Finally, an ideal type or model is not a caricature of reality. A cari-cature, when made of a person, consists of a graphic distortion of the s~a-lient points of his or her appearance or habitual costume so as to excite amusement oro.contempt; a caric,ature of a society or. group has the same deliberate distortion.An ideal type does not distort reality, but only high-lights particular details to facilitate a better knowledge of a situation. Of course, if an ideal type is ,wrongly, used, it can well become a caricature. Consensus and Conflict Models of Society Cooperation or Consensus and conflict are two basic processes of group life. Consensus is that general agreement in thought a~d feeling which~tends to l~roduce order where the~e was disorder. Conflictu~l'i'ela-tionships c~n be~=ategorized in terms of competition (mutually opposed efforts to obtain the sa~ne objectives), rivalry (conscious competition be-tween particular groups), or~conflict (the struggle over val~es and claims to scarce resources in which the aims of the opponents are to neutralize, injure, or eliminate their rivals). Two commonly used~ideai types have been constructed~ around'these two words: consensus and conflict (see Fig-ure ~1) 4 . Inthe cQnsensus model the.assumption is that people generally agre~e on values and norms; soqial life.is.basically.stable becausecooperatipn is rewarding.A spirit, of interdependenc,e pervades the society. Conflic-tual situations do ,emerge (~r~iters on this-model then tend to speak of "strained," "otense," "rival ".or, "competitive" relationships rather than "conflictual" o.nes), but they, do not threaten the dominant, consen-sus; .conflict resolutionS°in which equilibrium or harmooy 'i~ resto~r.ed, is achi.e~ed othr.~ugh trust :~n~ di,alogue and with ~'he aid of legitimate lead-ershi. p.,5 Maj.or social change comes very siowly and .depends on signifi-cantly large shifts in a~t.itud.e, and belief. The model therefore is conser-vative 'about change; many su~ggestions for chang~e are considered unre-alistic because people hold so firmly to their existing attitudes, vaiues~ and customs. ' In.the conflict model the key characteristic is the domination of some groups~by others, and actual or.potential conflict is at the heart of all so-cial relations. If~consensus exists-it is only a.facade. Behind this mask of.harmony the powerful, including ;the legitimate authorities, in order to maintain their-positions of .influence, manipulate or oppress othi~rs through the use of coercive power. ,Change comes about when existing 112 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 Key Points I. Basic qualities 2. Social life involves is essentially and depends on or produces 3. Leadership through 4. Social systems are and tend to Figure 1. Models of Society Consensus or Integration Model no'ms/values commitments cohesive consensus, solidarity,. reciprocity, coopera-tion, dialogue legitimate authority integrated remain Conflict or Coercion Model interests inducement and coercion divisive structured conflict, op-position, exclusion, and hostility power ¯malintegrated 9nd con-tain "contradictions" change conflictual situations are further exacerbated and new groups or individu-als emerge who manage to challenge the power structures in a confron-tational manner. Adversaries in conflicts generally judge the outcomes in terms of victories and defeats, wins or losses. In brief, at the heart of the conflict model is the assumption that conflict is the indispensable force in society. Ali relationships are coloreffby' it. The model empha-sizes the role of structures in society and how the powerful can use them to their advantage, and hence emphasiz,es'that change comes about through the alteration of structures through various forms of coercion. The roots of the conflict model go back to .people like Machiavelli and Hobbes. Karl Marx helped to refine the conflict model; conflict leads to revolutionary change rather than fi~aintenance of the system and, in the end, to what Marx claimed Would be a better society. His influence in the social sciences is considerable, though supporters tod~y do not nec-essarily agree with all that he said.6 Uses and Abuses of Models of Society As pointed out above, models are human constructs that articulate emphases in society. The models help us measure particular societies or cultures; enabling us to get a better understanding of their structures and dynamics. Most social scientists today would avoid adopting exclusively either the conflict or the consensus model; depending 9.n the nature of the particular group being studied, they would draw. on the.~trengths of Evaluating Chapters both models. Cultural anthropologists, whose task it is to study in depth a cultural situation, generally feel more comfortable with the consensus rather than the conflict model; they discover that people are more apt to resist change, often vigorously,~ because it threatens their critical need for cultural identity, security, and sense of belonging. People may adopt the jargon of the conflict model and yet remain at heart most unwilling to change. The process of facilitating change is more complex than the en-couragement of conflict; that may have quite the opposite effect. Abuses of the models occur inseveral ways. (A) One way is through the unscientific and exclusive application of one or other of the models to reality. People are then blinded to wider realities and values that may significantly influence the behavior of people. For example, as regards the mainline Filipino culture, it is .unwise to apply the cohsensus model exclusively, even though most key aspects of that model are evidently present. The emphasis is on the external maintenance of smooth, inter-personal, cohesive relationships and consensus in decision, making. If the enforcing of justice endangers harmony, then justice may have to be sac-i'ificed~ However, if theconsensus model is uncritically applied to the culture, it will not bring to light the intense conflictual anger and°resent-ment that can build up within individuals, for example because human rights are being ignored. A pointcan be reached when the anger cannot be contained, and it then breaks out with a feroc!ty and intensity that can stun the.unwary observer.7 On the other hand, the exclusive use of the conflict model blinds peo-ple to the existence of values, held in common and to the attitudinal re-sistance to change that generally exists at any level. The mere change of power structures, without attitudinal change or a chaiige of values, will lead to new forms of oppression. (B) Another abuse of the models occurs through the conscious or un-conscious desire to deny uncomfortable or embarrassing realities. There is the urge in all of us to deny awkward truths about ourselves or others, for if we acknowledged their existence we would have to do something about them. (C) A.-third abuse is the turning of either model into an ideology. By ideology I here mean (I am defining it in its pejorative sense) an action-oriented understanding of the person, of history, and of the world. The understanding is dramatic; the individual identifies ~vith it, is emotion-ally and totally gripped by it; one's :personal identity is constructed around the ideology and one accepts a role within the action drama. An ideology is apt to become for its adherents a dogmatic faith, blocking out 184 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 all challenge~ to it; people believe.,in it, then they~beheve in beliex;ing in'it.8 Ideologists readily use emotion-'ch~rged'labels.ofithemselves and others, for example; "libei-als, . conservatives," . ~ rightists,"~ "left-ists," o "radicals.",' An ideology is a caricature of an ideal type of soci-ety.~ My e.xperience'is that ideologists can,,~become so fanatically con-sumed by the rightness of their cause that. humor is beyond them, most certainly~,:t~he gift. of being~able to laugh at themselv.es.9 Ideologists are blinded to anything that threatens to undermi~n.e their assumptions. Take the conflict ideologlst. Situations and people are sim-plistically categorized, fo~xample, into '~pEre.ss~rs.and t.he oppressed, so that no gray ar,~e,a in the.a, nalys.is is. perm, itted. A.nyone who .~lares to doub! the analysi.s is lqgically (and emotively) assigned to the category "oppressor." ~0 Sigilarly, the consensus ideologist will not tolerate ai~y-thing~ but "harmony,," so that even ~enuine 90nflictual sitt]ations ar.e cov-ered over.~,,. Consensus/Conflict Model Analysis and'the Church Interest in the conflict perspective ih social'relations revived~ ht least in the Ehglish-speaking 'hations, in the. 1960s: In ~r~ceding decades, the dominant" sbc°ial-science theori~'s a~d:m0del~°d'eiaicted societie's~as founded and maintained o~ consensus ar~l ~ooperatiori. Howe~ier, the po-litical upheavals~ of th~ 1960s, 'botli domestic and international; focused attent~oh;ofi~)cial coffflicts and'~h6ir r~solution~ through ye~hlore con-flicts. For example, as concern for world poverty gi'6~v, people 6~ed the cbnflict rno~l~i to'better appreciate how pbwer (~conomic, l~olit'ical, and military) ~otild be i~ed to'impose unequal'exchanges which lead toga ~vorld system ina?ked by dependency arid pb~?erty. : : ~ ~ At the same time as the conflict"fia-6del was being revitalized and re-fined in the secular world, the Church began to ekperience the impact of'the incarnational and social-justice thrust of Vatican II.'Papal social documents 'and'synodal statements reflected,this trend. Proponents of lib-eratidn theolo~gy pointed'out that the philosophy of'cohsensus was being twisted, into an ideology in South America by the powerful minority to oppress the poor. Structural poverty must be tackled in order to briffg genu-ine relief. The.bishops~-'conference at Medellin in 1968 shocked partici-pants. into an awareness of this fact, and thereafter the small ~eed of lib: eration.theoiogy'sp~routed and grew rapidly. The documents of Medellin clearly show thd powerful influence of~the conflict-model in aiding the bishops to grasp the efiormity of the injustices being experienced by their people. On the wider intbrnational scene,.,Paul VI in his~landmark 197.1 document Octogesima Adveniens and in his Ef;ang~lii Ntintiandi (30-39) . Evaluating. Chapters o.f L975.and the bishops; 1971 ,synod on Justice in the World pinpointed ~he~caus.es of. world pox~erty in terms of the sgci.ological conflict model; but cle.arly rejecte.d ~both conflict and ,~consensus ideologies. , In the late 1970s there developed among concerned pastoral workers what became.known as Structural Analysis. This is a heightened criti-cal~ iselfrawareness of. .the wgys in which we c.an be. biase.d~ oLlimite.d in 9ur own thinking by our soqial, e.conom!c, cultural, or religious-life con-text. Advocacy, for the poor is a~critique of conservative-establishment power, domination, and wealth ideology. Identification with the poor and the oppressed is pictured as a "war waged on a more or less clearly iden-tifiable enem~,. The model is essehtially a conflict one where the promo-tion of a good ~s ,~nextrlcably hnked to a fight w~th a known adversary. ~ Unfprtunately, Structural'Analys~s, when it is used by tl~e amateur so-cial scientist, can r~adily t'~:n into a conflict~ ideology and'~hus"b~ the. cause of inj~Jst'ic~rather than an ~nstrument for its'removal. There are example~ of this in the evaluative coinment~ of genei'al ~ch~l~ters gi~,i~ri above. ' ~: :" " In summary, in the main Church documents that set out evangeliz, a, tion's preferentia! option for the poor: 1. The conflict/coercion/consensus models are used as ins, t.ruments of ~ocial/power ,analy.sis. 13 ,o 2. The limitations a,nd.~the dangers of misusiog the conflict mode!,in pa~rticular are pointed out: (.A) The,model cannot embrace theotransce_~n~ de.n,t; concern for just~ice mustoembrace the fullness of the ggspelme, s.- sage: "the prophetic~proc~l.amation of a herea.fter, man's profound and definitive calling, in both cofltin~uity and dis.cgntinuity with the present situation." 14 o~ ~ (B) The model must not be turned into a violence or conflict ideol-ogy;~ 5 "the action which,[the Church] sanctions is not the struggle of one~ class agai.nst an.other !n ord.er to eliminate the foe. She does not.pro~ ~ce.e.d from a mistaken acceptance of an alleged la~ of history: . . . The~ ~Chris.t~ian :wil~l always prefer the path of dia!ogue and joint action.' ,.~6 Nor should the conflict model be turned.into an °ideology that interprets the special option for the poor as embra~cing evaong.el.ically only;one section of the population: "This option excludes no one. This is whyothe Church cannot express this option by means of re.ducti.ve sociological and ideo-logical categories which would make this preference a partis.an choice and~ a.sourc~e of conflict." ~7 0 (C) Sociological models, 0.r ideologies that use these models, do not take into account the reality of sin; efforts at attitudinal or structural 11t6 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 change that ignore our proneness to sin are d6omed to failure. The urge to dominate or neutralize one's opponents, and the culpable escape from the realities of mortality, find their causes within our desire to deny God and replace him with gods of our own making.~8 (D) True dialogue between individuals or groups is not based on the ability to dominate, but on a spirituality of powerlessness born of char-ity; charity moves us to be open to others in order to respect and listen to them. 19 iE) E~vangelizers must watch lest they use the models in an amateur, but osten.sibly scientific~ way ~ manipulate and oppress people.2° 3. The~commitment to the social-justice apostolate must come out of a deep spiritual conv6rsion nourished by pra~yer. Prayer brings us to un-derstahd, how injustice is rooted in the sinfulness and selfishness of our hearts, it is prayer which calls on th~ Spirit to create within us both the courage and the love to bring about a conversion in people's hearts and the renewal of all structures of society.2~ Understanding Discernment "Discernment" is another frequently used term in the chapter com-ments noted ~bove. Discernment is a prayerful reflection on a human situ-ation in the light of faith. I must discover and root out all the attitudes, ignorance;, and prejudices that obstruct ~y ~penness to the Holy Spirit. Hence, I turn to whatever can hell~ me sharpen my grasp of truth--to the-ology, to social sciences, to discussion. But for discernment I need more than skilled human insights. I need the openness of a converting listener of the Lord. Discernment is not so much a skill as a presence with the Lord. It is being a Mary, "who sat down at the Lord's feet and listened to him speaking" (Lk 10:38). Father Thomas Green, S.J., points out that there are three presuppo-sitions of genuine discernment in the life of a Christian. First, discern-ment assumes that a person sincerely desires:to do what the Lord wants; secondly, this desire involves an openness to what God wants without reservations. Thirdly, the discerner must know the~ Lord in love, an ex-perienced intimate knowledge of God that a converted person has espe-cially through prayer. Discernment assumes conversion or the fact that the person has responded to God's grace and abandoned himself or her-self to the Lord. As Green says, "Discernment is.a function of a lov-ing, pe~rsonal relationship to the Lord. It can normally be only as deep and as solid as that relationship itself. The true discerner must be a pray-ing, loving person."22 Evaluating Chapters The presuppositions for communaLdiscernment are the logical exten-sion of the requirements for individual discernment.23 Every person of. the community must desire God's will; there must already be that open-nes, s, that intimate union of friendship in Christ. Without these qualities, communal'and individual discernment-remain human actions or tech-niques, not movements .in faith. Only'an individual or,group that has ex-perienced "that peace of God which is so much greater than we can un-derstand," and which ought to "guard your hearts and your thoughts in Christ Jesus" (Ph 4:7), can identify what the Lord is asking. Discernment does not dispense with the need to use every human method possible--for exa~nple, sociological research, theological discus-sion-- to clarify the options that one must choos~ from. At tim6s this may require vigorous debate Or discussion. This is indispensable preparatory activity. To neglect it is to ekpect the Lord to work miracles, and'because of our laziness this he will not do. However, despite the perfection of our research, there are limits to our insights. We are relating to a God and Savior whose ways~ can be humanly inconceivable and unpredic.table; so, once the background material has been clarified, then we take it in a prayerful way, to the Lord and with him we contemplate the options. Evaluation of General ~Chapter Comments In view of the above explanation, many of the evaluative comments on several general chapters are not at all surprising. ShOrtly after the end of Vatican II, congregations initiated a series of provincial and general chapters of renewal aimed at updating legislation arid approving new con-stitutions. In the 1970s and 1980s the j.argon of ihe consensus, and espe-cially the conflict, mode~ls of analysis became increasingly popular and acceptable in secular and theological circles. Participants at congregaz tional chapters merely reflected ~hat was happening in the wider Church and society. Our formation p~ograms unfortunately had not adequat~ely prepared us in the social-gcience disciplines always to use sociologica~l or anthropological models with the needed professional caution. We have used sociological terminology, especially of the conflict model, but have frequently failed to grasp the technical ramifications of the language. In very recent years, as congregations have slipped more and more into the stage of chaos,24 religious have grown suspicious of the simplis-tic use of the conflict model and more aware of the attitudinal and spiri-tual dimensions needed i~ charige. Structural changes have not had the desired miraculous effect. Now the terms "consensus" and "discern-ment" are the "in" words though there is frequent confusion about their 188 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 meaning, as is evident in the following analysis of the chapter evalu- ¯ ations. Mis'use of tl~e Conflict Model (Reread Con~ments 2, 3, 5, ,,6, 12,~ 14) Delil~erately or otherwise~people coerced other participants. Com-ment 3 p,oints to an~,,atmosphere of subtle,.but effect!ve, coercion; the in-dividual feltemotionally pressured io withdrawoa mgtteroof considergble importance to the congregation~--initial formation. In comment 5 one na-tional group r~efuses to cooperate in the discernment process, so the only option ope.n is the ~use of power politics~ pressure grouping, wins and losses. In comment 6 some manipulate the group through orchestrated sile~nc,e.s; they will not risk shar!ng views~ntil they are in a positio,n to d~minate the g~roup with their own decisions. Christi.an mutuality.d~es np.t. ex!.s,t: In comment ~2 i.ndividuals are thor~ughgoin~g ideglogists; they openly proclaim that nothing will be done except through confhcts initi-ated by .them. MisUse~%f the Consensus Model (Comments 1, 7) In comment 1 participants Were using corisensus ideologically, though they may not have been aware of it. Obviously, they had experi-enced in the past the disruptive b,!tt, erness and failure of.the conflict ide-ology. and wanted to~ avoid it at all-costs., They the.n misunderstood the meaning of consensus. People of comment 7 are se~rc,hing to grasi~ the meaning of discernment. Misufider~.tanding of Discernn~ent (cpmments.4, 9, i3) Comment 9 ~vould suggest that a positive chapter was held; not so with .the chapters referred to in comr~efits 4 and 13. A l~'ey presupposi-tion in dis~ernmen(is, the willingness to do what God wants ~f us, no matter h~ow Oistastefql it may be. The fact that "nothingohas been d~)ne about th6 Chapter decrees" shows that this effective willingness was not present. ~, Escdpism/Denial (Comments V,~' 2,, 3;~ 4, 5, 6, 7) ~ . Ernest Becket claims that the root cause of human evil is that our "natural and inevital~ie .urge" is "to deny mortality and achieve a he-roic self-image."25 Discernment demands that we admit our mortality, our,absolute need~of God. This means f.acing ~up constantly to the reali-ties of our 'own sinfulness and our need to be dying to ourselves in order that we rise in Christ, This is painful. It attacks that which we so enjoy-- our .pride and~ self-sufficiency, ., ' ~ EvaluaiingChapters / t89 ~There are examples and hints of participants denying their own per- ,sonai and corporate mortality and thus avOiding reality, for example'; through the misuse.of conserisus and conflict models and the failure to have the openness to one another that.comes 6nly through the risk of faith. Power, as commonly understood in:the comments, is unilateral; that is, people are out to impose their influenc~ on others while cloging then~selves to the'insights of the'latter. RelationalpoWer is precisely the ability t~O listen to others as well as being available to influence the same people (see comments 2, 3).26 InSistence on conflict or c6nsensus at all costs overlooks, the fact that ultimately there can be nor worthwhile change unless it springs out of one's conversion to the Lord'~ his love, his meekness. Fine documents do not effect conversion (comment~l l')~. In response to.grace we must turn wholehe~rtedly to the Lord. No culture must ever be the norm for the Christian.-A cultu;e may or. ma3? not facilitate dialogue, but ultimately dialogue for tl~e Christian must=have its roots in faith and in imitation of Christ.'He is the exemplar of relational power, the power of mutuality and risk' in .~harity. He thtis teaches us what genuine dialogue means. Ponder how often he asks peo-pie wh~it, they wish of him. He does not tell them what hE thinks they need: "'What do ~,ou want me to do.for you?" he said to the blind man. "Master, let me see again'~' (Mk 10"51). Or take that in~ident~in which Jesus enters into dialogue with the Canaanite woman who persistently begs him to heal her daughter. She does not take no for an answer, and Jesus listens (Mr 15:21-28), just as he does with the Samar.!tan woman at the well and his perplexed follow+r.s on the rgad ,to Emmaus. Then the touching interchange on the cross itself, when Jesus in his agony listens and responds to the repentant thief. The ultimat~e~source of his gift of lis-tenir~ g is the divine/human e£change bf th( incarnation itself:"'Hi~ State was divine, yet he did not cling to his equa!ity with~God, but emptied himself to assume the condition of a slave" (Ph' 2:6-7). Conclusion " Chapters are called to be witnesses of charity to the Church and to their own congregations and to apostolically relate their ~institutes to the needs of a changing world: In order to know these needs, "participants must break through the'barriers of their own pr6judices and ignbrance. An amateurish use of the social sciences, for exampl.e, through the mis-use, of sociological models of analysis, only iincrease~ these barriers. St. Paul was never a trained social scientist, but he had a shrewd in-sight into how people could misuse power. He detested those who sought to divide the Church into exclusive, conflictual, unlistening po~er blocks "191~ / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 that aimed to dominate one another--all in the name of Christ: "What could be~more unspiritual than your slogans, 'I am for Paul' and 'I am for Apollos'?" (1 Co 3:4), That approach, he insists, traps.people and deprives them of their freedom and openness to the Spirit; it. is a "sec-ondhand, empty, rational philosophy based on the principles of this world instead of on Christ;' (Col 2:8). Paul then is condemning ideologies, or any action-oriented beliefs, which claim to legitimize the domi~nation or manipulation of people. At root, "feuds. and wrangling, jealousy, bad temper and quarrels, disagree-ments, factions . . . and similar things" are the fruit of "self-indul-gence," which "is the opposite of the Spirit, and the Spirit is totally agaipst such a thing" (Ga 5:20, 17). The sign of the converting, therefore listening, person or group is love, for "Love is always patient and kind; ~t is never jealous., never rude or selfish., not resentful . [It] delights in the truth; it is al-ways ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and .to endure whatever comes" (I Co 13:4-7). Such ~people will do all they can to discover God's will, for they take to heart the ever pressing invitation of the Lord: "Come now, let us talk this over, says Yahweh. Though.your sins are like scar-let, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool" (Is 1:18). NOTES t Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life, May 1981, par. 51. 2 See G. A. Arbuckle's Strategies for Growth in Religious Life (New York: Alba House, ! 986), pp. I 16- I 19. 3 See Max Weber, TheMeth~gdology of the Social Sciences (Glencoe: The Free Press, 1949), passim. 4'See P. S. Cohen, Modern Social Theory (London: Heinemann, 1968), p. 167. 5 See presentation of model by Talcott Parsons, The Social System (New York: The Free Press, 1949), passim. 6 See Steven Vago, Social Change (New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1980), pp. 39-44. 7 For a Japanese parallel see lan Buruma, A Japanese Mirror: Heroes and Villains of Japanese Culture (London: Jonathan Cape, 1984), pp. 219ff. 8 See Antonio B. Lambino, "Ideology, Social Change and the Christian Con-science," in Loyola Papers, Manila, 1976, nn. 7/8, pp. I If. 9 See Arbuckle, StrategieS, pp. 67-87. t0 See insights by Renato A. Ocampo and Francisco F. Claver in Pulso, Institute on Church and Social Issues, Manila, voi. I, no. I (1984), pp. 7-16, 48-63. t t John L. Seymour, "Social Analysis and Pastoral Studies: A Critical Theological Assessment," in Pastoral Sciences, vol. 4 (1985), p. 58. Evaluating Chapters / 191 12 See Joe Holland and Peter Henriot, Social Analysis: Linking Faith and Justice (Ma-ryknolh Orbis, 1984); pp. 14-44. 13 See Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Instruction on Christian Freedom and Liberation, 22 March 1986, par. 42; also Donal Dorr, Option for the Poor: A Hundred Years of Vatican Social Teaching (Maryknoih Orbis, 1983), pp. 175,244- 250. 14 Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi, 1975, par. 28. 15 Paul VI, Octogesima Adveniens, 1971, par. 28. 16 Instruction, op. cir., par. 77. ~7 lbid, par. 68. ~8 lbid, pars. 38, 39. ~9 lbid, pars. 55-57. 2o Octogesima Adveniens, pars. 38, 39. 21 Evangelii Nuntiandi, par. 15. 22 Weeds Among the Wheat: Discernment--Where Prayer and Action Meet (Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1984), p. 64. 23 See John Futrell, "Communal Discernment: Reflections on Experience" in Stud-ies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, vol. 4, no. 5 (1972), passim; and Brian P. Hall and Benjamin Tonna, God's Plans for Us: A Practical Strategy for Communal Discern-ment of Spirits (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), passim. 24 See Arbuckle, Strategies, pp. 23-66. 25 Escapefr~om Evil (New York: The Free Press, 1976), p. xvii. 26 See Evelyn Woodward, "Uses of Power in Community," in Human Develop-ment, vol. 4, no. 2 (1983), pp. 27-29. The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell~ Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The ,Relevance of Life Review tO the Vowed Life James J. Magee, D.S.W. ~ ~o' Doctor Magee has, done extensive research and consultative work in the j'ield of re-tirement programs for religious women~ His last article in these pages, "Confidants Help Older Religious with Life Review," appeared in the issue of March/April 1987., He may be addressed,at the College of New Rochelle; New Rochelle, New York 10805. ¯, ~ ¯ , In response to the "graying" of their membership, many religious com-munities have begun to draw upon the reminiscences of their older mem-bers as a valued resource. Communities have sponsored groups to tape oral histories of the personalities, geographical sites, institutional crises, and developmental issues for which only the older members can give first-hand accounts. They have asked members whb are retired from their pri- ~ mary mini, str~!e~s~i'tg~.feiz.0.~d ~th.~zhaile~i'~es t,h~t iin~ar)'~.bly cbn.fro~t those who succeed them. Ttiey have, encouraged them, too,. to value the in- . creaseo ~nvo~vemento~n~4tte rewew that accompanies'aging:as occasions for healing memorie_s and di.sce~rning God's gracious intervention through-out their lives. Life review is a fo£m of reminisce.nce,~in whic,h persons recall long-forgotten incidents, dwell on them, and re6apture the emotions that origi-nally accompanied them, often while trying to convey these felt experi-ences to a listener. Thes'e.re~zollections are:usuhlly clear and vivid, ac-' companied by pleasant or uncomf6rtabl~ emotions varying in intensity. Life review increases dra~atie~ll~ in middle age and continues un-abated among older adult~':~In, life~re~,iew:ifii:li.vidfi~als reflect upon their personal history and accept responsibility for it. It is a process in which reviewers gradually r.ecpns~truct and assess their past, using their current 192 Life Review and the Vowed Life / 193 values to weigh behavior that memories progressively retum to conscious-ness. It focuses attention upon the connectedness of their: past with their current sense of themselves, evoking memories of formative experiences that influenced their personal development (Merriam, 1980). Life Review and the Daily Examen This description of life review overlaps several of the functions of the daily examen. A critical evaluation of life experiences with a goal of integrating them in an acceptance of oneself here and now is common to them both. Life review, however, is seldom a structured progression of memories. Usually it proceeds circuitously through reverie, reflection, dreams, diary or journal entries, correspondence, and storytelling. More significantly, life review enhances the fruitfulness of the daily examen by focusing upon the vowed lifestyle as a way of life that can release its members from compulsions that impede their self-actualiza-tion and intimacy with God. Like everyone who engages in life review, older religious become enmeshed in memories which join their own per-sonal history with the history of their family. They particularly recog-nize the ways in which they have mishandled in their own lives some is-sue( s) that they know various family members have mishandled over gen-erations. In a previous article in this journal (Magee, 1987), I indicated that these intergenerationai issues characteristically include the fol-lowing: WEALTH. (How much is enough? Who has access to it? What is sup-posed to be done with it?) HEALTH. (Use/avoidance of preventive and rehabilitative services, hy-pochondria, phobias) SEXUALITY. (Knowledgeability, scrupulosity, homophobia, premari-tal and extramarital activity) WORK. (Workaholism/inertia, process/product orientation) ANGER. (Forms of ex.pression, targets, repression, degrees of openness to resolving differences) RELIGION. (Freedom to participate/disaffiliate, questioning institutional teaching) AUTONOMY. (What decisions are mine to make? Where can I live? How often am I expected to contact kin?) These issues recur in families over generations because they have never been resolved. Instead of coping with them when they arise, fam-ily members react with a heightened anxiety which spurs demonstrations of denial, projection, and somatic symptoms. One authority refers to such issues as "islands of sensitivity" in a family. When family mem- Review for Religious, March-April 1988 bers even approach one of the "islands," no more than a particular kind of look, gesture, word, or tone of voice is needed to arouse an emotional explosion (Fogarty, 1977). ¯ Life Review and the Vowed Life How appropriate, then, that the lifestyle of living in community un-der vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience should lead religious to con-front the very issues which hold such intractable control over most peo-ple's lives. Texts concerning formative spirituality consistently em-phasize the inevitability of the vowed life engaging religious with their tenacious, problematic attitudes toward status, sexuality, and autonomy. It is to be .expected, then, that life review will elicit memories that reit-erate the difficulties religious had in observing their community's way of life precisely because that lifestyle addressed issues of exquisite sen-sitivity in their families. Consider the situation of a son who intervened between his parents who were estranged over any subject involving finances. The mother, in turn, invested in a compensatory relationship with her son, while the fa-ther maintained a deprecatory attitude toward him. The son rallied to-ward his mother, but experienced increasing anxiety over the intensity of their relationship. Later, after entering his religious community, he remained sensitized to expressions of anger, even disagreement. He was unable to resolve arguments, felt drawn to one member against another, and yet believed he must work everything out between them. Finally, he remained particularly scrupulous about observing the letter of his vowed poverty, and alert to any apparent laxity in the observance of other com-munity members. A second example concerns a woman religious who was raised in a patriarchal household in which daughters were assigned, without right of protest, the least challenging and most wearisome chores. Although she demonstrated exceptional organizational abilities in her community, she participated only reluctantly whenever her superior asked her to co-ordinate retreats conducted by a priest rather than by another woman re-ligious. In fact, whenever community liturgies involved several male cele-brants, she suffered symptoms severe enough to keep her from attending the services. A final example concerns a friar who grew up in a tradition-oriented family in which the eldest son for four consecutive generations had as-sumed direction of the family business. In this man's case, however, he entered his community even though he was the firstborn and had been christened with his great-grandfather's name. He maintains that his Life Review and the Vowed Life choice of vocation was the only discontinuity with his family of origin. For the family's entrepreneurial orientation and expectations for his as-gendancy continued throughout his life to compound his difficulties in sharing in the give-and-take exchange of community living and in ob-serving prescribed consultations with his superior. Life Review and Depression For most older religious, life review affirms their self-esteem as saved sinners, "in Christ, a new creation." Insight into the heritage of their family-based compulsions demystifies so much of their dysfunc-tional behavior. With faith, they see their frailties of character as graced opportunities "to boast of nothing but the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ." For a troubled minority, however, life review, like the examen it-self, can lead to depression instead of peace. For three groups, life re-view can precipitate a crisis of conscience and faith. One group consists of religious who "have consciously exercised the human capacity to in-jure others" and cannot imagine that they could be forgiven by those whom they have injured or by God (Butler, ! 963). They feel that no re-course exists to undo whatever harm they have inflicted. Often they ap-pear obsessed with a theme or event, discussing it with one listener after another. Somerset Maugham's (1959) observation about reminiscence is poignantly relevant to members of this group: "What makes old age hard to bear is not a failing of one's faculties, mental and physical, but the burden of one's memories." Members of the second group.are those charact.eroiogically arrogant and proud. They use life review not to appreciate the gratifications that their memories recall, but to accentuate that their accomplishments and sources of life satisfaction are now behind them. Moreover, because they have built their self-esteem upon recognition for their achievements and affiliations rather than on their inherent worth as human beings, they view aging as distancing them further from the bases for their self-worth. Life review may also lead to depression for a third group who have tended throughout their life cycle to live in the future. Their memories surface a lifetime of opportunities missed because they were focusing uport tomorrow rather than upon today. Feeling powerless to modify their future-orientation and seeing death as foreclosing further opportunities, they become disconsolate over a life that appears to them as wasted. These three groups are in crisis about their spiritual life and their men- Review for Religious, March-April 1988 tal health. Their depression requires professional mental health attention. Conclusion Increased investment in life review is a developmental attribute of aging. As members of religious communities age, life review becomes a more potent resource. It enhances the quality of the daily examen. It helps religious to understand lifelong difficulties they may have had with their vowed community lifestyle. Finally, it helps in identifying relig-ious who need mental health services as well as spiritual direction. REFERENCES Butler, R. (1963). The life review: An interpretation of reminiscence in the aged. Psychiatry, 26, p. 70. Fogarty, T. (1977). Fusion. The Family, 4(2), p. 56. Magee, J. (1987). Confidants help older religious with life review. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 46(2), p. 235. Maugham, S. (1959). Points of view. Garden City: Doubleday. Merriam, S. (1980). The concept and function of reminiscence: A review of the re-search. The Gerontologist, 20(5), pp. 604-609. The Cross Reconsidered William F. Hogan, C.S.C. Father Hogan's last article, "Eucharistic Community of Disciples," appeared in the issue of November/December 1985. He continues to reside at the generalate of the Christian Brothers: Fratelli Cristiani; Via della Maglianella, 375; 00166 Roma, Italy. History points to the virtual impossibility of maintaining balance between all the facets of the mystery of Christ, his person and his message. Theo-logical controversies over the centuries bear witness to this; current spiri-tual movements, as in the past, similarly offer testimony. ~ In the present day, emphasis on the Cross would appear to be one aspect of theology-spirituality that has receded in the light of other stresses, and a variety .of reasons could be adduced, not the least of which would be a reaction against some of the negativism in the past associated with the attention given= to the cru~ifixiofi in the Paschal Mystery and the insufficient ac-cent on the resurrection. Further, the broader view of the theology of crea-tion and incarnation has been seen .as necessary for a better appreciation of the basic concept of mission and our part in it today. It is not surprising that the recent extraordinary synod pointed to the need of recognizing "that in today's difficulties God wants us to teach more profoundly the value, importance, and :centrality of the cross of Je-sus Christ."2 These words assume a particular importance when we re-flect on the many kinds of life-struggles in our world and the areas need-ing redemption. What the synod said concerning teaching the Cross should not be restricted to ministerial actions toward others, for the mes-sage touches life and spirituality and needs to be integrated therein. But how a person approaches the centrality of the Cross in ministry as well as in personal life is very important, for there is need for integration as such. We cannot just let the. Cross remain outside ourselves as a reality 197 Review for Religious, March-April 1988 to be looked at. (While this may seem obvious, in fact, in our daily liv-ing we may well find ourselves looking at the Cross disinterestedly as an object.) The Cross is not simply a thing, static; rather it involves and expresses a relation of personal self-emptying love and total giving for us. Unless seen in that perspective, it will not touch us concretely and we will find much more comfort in concentrating on the Risen Jesus, avoiding the starkness and pain of the Cross. Touch us it must, for the Cross is at the core of Christian discipleship and reveals the mystery of divine love in the gift of the person of Christ, who invites us to follow him into the Paschal Mystery. Discipleship entails such a preferential love for Jesus as to demand that we go after him all the way into the mys-tery of his death-resurrection and not be deterred by lesser preoccupa-tions. The integration of the mystery of the Cross into our lives is inti-mately associated with the whole question of our human sinfulness and brokenness and how we own that as part of our lives. Often we would prefer not to look at that side of ourselves, since it can be discouraging and depressing. Some past approaches of spirituality urged people to re-flect on sin in such a way as to foster morbidity and gloom because of insufficient attention to the love of Jesus and that of the Father in send-ing him to humankind. As a result, instead of a deep spirit of sorrow for sin, a sense of guilt took its place, accompanied by feelings of shame, where the attention is at least unconsciously on self and not on God-- "I thought I was better than that." And then for many the next logical step is the loss of a meaningful sense of sin out of a flight from guilt and shame. No doubt, it can be frightening to see some aspects of ourselves, when at times we catch a glimpse of our dark side or it catches us by surprise; and we would prefer not to acknowledge to ourselves our sin-fulness, brokenness, and weakness. Yet a major factor in this reluctance may be how we look at this part of our lives. Do we view it separately in itself or in conjunction with the Cross and the healing power of God's love? Do we at the same time see God's power operative in the midst of our human frailty, using it as an occasion to break into our lives? A basic call is given to each of us to accept ourselves as we are if we are to grow to maturity. This includes acceptance of our dark side as well as the brightness of gifts, talents, and admirable qualities. However, the acceptance of one's sinfulness must be against the background of the re-ality of the Cross and divine love eager to lead us through our b~oken-ness towards wholeness, analogous to the felix culpa message proclaimed The Cross Reconsidered / 199 in the Exsultet of the Easter Vigil Service, We are not to cling to our sinfulness in a wrong way, trying to hide it from ourselves and from God, but let him use it and operate through it--sincerely believing that "for those who love God all things work together unto good" (Rm 8:28). A correlated sense of sin and of the Cross leads to greater convic-tion of need for, dependence on, and openness to the God who loves us in our weakness; simultaneously there is a breaking down of the exagger-ated kind of personal autonomy that lies at the root of so many personal and societal problems. And the human person gradually becomes steeped in the gratefulness to God that is the antithesis of the ingratitude of sin. Joyful dependence on God should overflow into a sense of dependence on others, enabling us to more intensely live Jesus' message of interde-pendeiace. We need each other, as we all need God and his redemptive love, because of our mutual brokenness and sinfulness. And in a very real way it can be said that God uses individual frailty as a means of be-coming a life-giving channel for others when we accept them and need them in their sinfulness. God ministers to them through us when we com-mune with them in our mutual need for healing and strength; and at the same time we receive God ministering to us. The Cross is not an isolated reality, for it extends to all aspects of individual and social life in touching what is most fundamental in hu-man nature. Each season of the liturgical year, while concentrating on one or other dimension of the mystery of salvation in Christ, must ulti-mately be viewed from the perspective of the Paschal Mystery. The Cross and resurrection are present in all of them even as they were pre-sent in the lifelong discipleship of Jesus. His self-emptying in following the will of the Father and seeking the Father's glory in all the phases of his life led to the culmination of kenosis in laying down his life. Any-one who would respond to Jesus' call of discipleship must necessarily make the same journey from self to the Father, and the Cross is inescap-able. We may~not like the manner of expression of the Imitation of Christ, but the message still holds true: The cross is always ready and everywhere waits for thee. Thou canst not escape it, whithersoever thou runnest; for whithersoever thou goest, thou carriest thyself with thee and shalt always find thyself. Turn thyself up-wards, or turn thyself downwards; turn thyself without or turn thyself within thee, and everywhere thou shalt find the cross.3 Various spiritualities in the past emphasi~.ed practices related to the Cross and some of them have been dropped. Perhaps this was wise and 900 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 even necessary because the devotions were not sufficiently well grounded for some people and even, in fact, became ends in themselves. Now may be the opportune time to take another look at the values these devotions and practices were meant to instill and deepen and to seek to reincorpo-rate them with new expressions and emphases, especially making a more explicit link to discipleship and our human brokenness. This could be help-ful in enabling us to perceive life and ministry struggles in terms of the Cross and drinking the cup (see Mt 20:22). Similarly opportune would be ongoing personal reflection on God's personal redemptive love for the individual--a truth that can never be deeply enough engraved on our hearts, a truth intellectually admitted but so often not interiorly believed such as to affect our lives. In the awareness of the pilgrimage of our lives, we need to see the already attained as having been reached in terms of God's love and the power of the Cross and the "not yet" element as something to be faced in the light of the same. Throughout the centuries the Cross has been a symbol of Christ, point-ing backward through history to the salvific event and at the same time forward with a prophetic call. It speaks to the world and to individuals about love, unlimited love, the love to which we are still challenged to-day: What I say to you is: offer no resistance to injury. When a person strikes you on the right cheek, turn and offer him the other. If anyone wants to go to law over your shirt, hand him your coat as well. Should anyone press you into service for one mile, go with him two miles. Give tqthe man who begs from you. Do not turn your back on the borrower. You have heard the commandment, "You shall love your countryman but hate your enemy." My command to you is: love your enemies, pray for your persecutors. This will prove that you are sons of your heavenly Fa-ther, for his sun rises on the bad and the good, he rains on the just and unjust (Mt 5:39-45). The disciple of Christ, even in his/her sinfulness, is empowered to take up the challenge of Christ through the power of the Cross operative today and, in trying to witness to this love, will be living out the Pas-chal Mystery. How important it is that we seriously reconsider the Cross and its im-plications in our lives today, for it is so easy to forget or at least take it for granted. The Cross Reconsidered NOTES ~ See John Dalrymple, "Not Peace but the Sword," in The Way, January 1986, where the author indicates how some elements of charismatic spirituality tend to cloud over some disturbing aspects of Christ and his message. 2 L'Osservatore Romano, December 10, 1985, Documents section, Relatio Finalis D. 2. 3 Thomas a Kempis, My Imitation of Christ, Confraternity of the Precious Blood," Brooklyn, New York, 1954, p. 147. A Sister's Passing I watched the sunlight touch the corners of the sky and softly climb the hills, while you-- so still-- let the light fade in your room and quietly went.away to another mansion where mysteries are no more, and the Son-light never dims. I shall not question your going. R.LP. Sistei" Dorothy Clark, R.S.C.J. 2/6/85 Claire Mahaney, R.S.C.J. 140 Valparaiso Ave. Menlo Park, CA 94025 Advance Directives for Health Care: A Proposal for Priests and Religious Ruth Caspar, O.P., Ph.D. Sister Ruth, recently returned from a sabbatical devoted to research in bioethics, is a consultant in biomedical ethics along with being Professor and Chair of the De-partment of Philosophy at Ohio Dominican College; 1216 Sunbury Road; Colum-bus, Ohio 43219. The events surrounding the recent death of Monsignor.Thomas O'Brien will put clergy and members of religious congregations on notice that they should enact directives concerning their preferences regarding medi-cal treatment well in advance of the age of 83. ~ This was the age of Mon-signor O'Brien at the time of the severe stroke that left him paralyzed, unable to swallow and take nourishment, and incapable of speech. It was also the age of Brother Charles Fox when he suffered cardiac arrest and anoxia during routine surgery.2 In both cases, medical technology was available to sustain the lives of these patients, and in both cases persons close to them--friends who could have been expected to know their val-ues and preferences--sought the removal of these medical interventions. A review of the medical, legal, and ethical aspects of these cases, which differ in significant respects, will be instructive in providing a con-text for the discussion of Advance Directives "for members of the clergy and of refigious congregations. Brother Fox In the literature of bioethics, the case known in law as Eichner v. Dillon stands as one of the precedent-setting decisions regarding proxy consent authorizing termination of treatment for an adult incompetent pa-tient. 3 Father Philip K. Eichner, S.M., secured in that decision judicial 202 Health-Care Directives / 903 approval from the Appellate Court, Second Department, of New York State to remove respirator support from Brother Joseph Charles Fox, di-agnosed as suffering from "permanent or chronic vegetative coma." This petition had initially been approved by a trial court order, but was appealed by Nassau County District Attorney Denis Dillon. Both Father Eichner and Brother Fox were members of the Society of Mary, and both at that time belonged to the community at Chaminade High School in Mineola, N.Y. When Brother Fox entered Nassau Hos-pital for routine surgery for a hernia in October 1979, he had spent 66 of his 83 years as a Marianist Brother, the last ten of them in retirement at Chaminade, where his longtime friend Father Eichner served as relig-ious Superior and president of the high school. Their relationship, beyond that of friendship, was also established on the trust and respect that are part of the structure of religious community life under vows of obedi-ence. In 1953, Eichner had been a novice under the guidance of Brother Fox, then prefect of novices; in 1979 this role was reversed, and Fox lived and worked as a member of a community under the direction of Fa-ther Eichner. Why did this case make legal and bioethical history? Removal of a respirator from a patient in chronic vegetative state, with no hope of re-covery of cognitive functioning, is now fairly well supported in legal precedent and moral consensus; the debate in the courts and among bioethicists today focuses on the withdrawal of a further and more con-troversial intervention: tube feeding, which is at issue in the O'Brien case. But this was not the agenda in 1979 when Quinlan was foremost in the consciousness of the courts and the public as a result of media ex-posure. The Fox case was not finally resolved until March 31, 1981, when a decision of the New York Court of Appeals, highest court in that state, consolidating Eichner v. Dillon with Storar, upheld the decision of the lower court regarding Fox. It had opened on October 2, 1979, when Brother Fox, in relatively good health but advanced age, went in for sur-gery to correct a hernia he had suffered while gardening. In the course of the surgery he suffered cardiopulmonary arrest. Heart massage even-tually restored a heartbeat, but not before oxygen deprivation tothe brain had reduced Brother Fox to dependence on a respirator to sustain even the most basic ~of vital functions, with no hope of regaining conscious-ness. When this prognosis was confirmed by neurosurgeons, Father Eich-ner requested that the hospital remove the patient from interventions that 204 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 were clearly "extraordinary" under the well-articulated moral teaching of the Catholic Church. He was supported in this request by Brother Fox's nieces and nephews, all of whom concurred in this decision. More-over, Father Eichner and the provincial, Father Keenan, could report that they had heard Brother Fox express his preferences regarding the mat-ter. In discussions surrounding Quinlan he had said that he would not want to have his life prolonged by such extraordinary and artificial meas-ures, a conviction he reiterated immedi~ately prior to his own s.urgery. He had, however, no written document stating his position. When hospital officials refused, alleging both legal and moral qualms, Eichner was left with no alternative but to go to court if he wished to honor the known preferen.ces of his Marianist brother. He sought a court order appointing him as proxy for the incompetent patient with authority todecide whether life-sustaining equipment should be with-drawn. This was granted by the trial court on December 6, 1979 (Brother Fox had by now been in deep coma for two months); the order was im-mediately appealed by Dillon. Before the subsequent decision in favor of Eichner was rendered, Brother Fox died on January 24, 1980. Citing the far-reaching impact of the issues contested in the case, the Appellate Division proceeded with the case, announcing its decision two months later (Eichner v. Dillon, March 27, 1980). Dillon appealed once again, to the highest court in the state; once again Father Eichner's right as proxy to authorize the termi-n~ ition of treatment for Fox was upheld in the 1981 decision In re Storar. Though vindicated at every level of court review, the progress of the Fox case nevertheless incurred $20,000 in legal fees and over $80,000 in medi-cal costs. Monsignor O'Brien If the Fox case seems relatively clear and straightforward in spite of the difficulties encountered in its progress, that of Monsignor Thomas O'Brien, had it proceeded through court review, would have been a storm center. Nevertheless it presents an even stronger argument for a need for Advance Directives on the part of clergy and religious. Father Thomas O'Brien, ordained a priest for the archdiocese of New York, served over the many years of his priestly ministry at St. Paul's in Harlem, St. Anastasia's in the Bronx, and St. Malachy's, the "Ac-tor's Chapel," in Manhattan, where in retirement he held a position as Pastor Emeritus. He is described in the court record as "a lively, gre-garious loving man, an avid reader, a rapt conversationalist, and a good friend to the members of his parish."4 Health-Care Directives / 905 At the age of 83, he was severely disabled by a stroke suffered on May 25, 1986. As a result of the stroke~and subsequent paralysis, he was restricted in his movements, unable, initially, to swallow or take notir-ishment, and incapable of speech. In response to the medical emergency, a nasogastric tube was in-serted for the provision of nourishment. As the name suggests, these tubes are inserted through the nose and pass to the stomach. No consent form was required for this "noninvasive" intervention. Alth6ugh there was some difference of expert opinion about Father O'Brien's degree of competence, the record indicates that "he was not happy with the tube that was inserted and would have preferred to have it out." This he com-municated clearly by attempting to remove it fifteen times. At this point, hospital officials at Frances Shervier Home and Hos-pital in Riverdale, N.Y., petitioned the court for a conservator for pur-poses of consenting to the surgical insertion of a feeding-tube directly through the abdomen into the stomach: a gastrostomy.Such a procedure would allow the continued provision of life-sustaining nourishment with-out the irritation and discomfort associated with the nasogastric tube. It would also, from the perspective of the hospital, "buy time" for the reso-lution of the question bf competence. With the consent of a court-appointed guardian, "there being some conflict in psychiatric testimony.as to whether Msgr. O'Brien was or was not competent to make a decision as to the continuation of life-sustain-ing procedures," the surgery was performed on September 17, 1986. The issue, now that the stomach tube was in place, was whether it could be removed. To determine this, the court sought additional psychiatric testimony and heard the opinions of those most closely associated with the patient. There were no family members in a position to speak for Father O'Brien, nor had he personally authorized anyone to make decisions regarding his health care. No living will was available. One fellow priest is mentioned in the court record--the director of the residence where Father O'Brien livi~d--but he did not act as proxy decision-maker. The person who seemed to be best able to speak for the patient was a Iongtime friend who had initially requested removal ofthe NG tube. His opinion is noted in the record with respect ("His integrity and concern define what true friendship is all about"), but it was not held to be binding. Four psychiatrists, examining the patient who now had the stomach tube in place, found that he "was not so depressed or withdrawn as to render him incapable of making a rational decision affecting his life." 906 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 His method of communication, however, was limited to affirmative and negative responses which he communicated by squeezing the .hand of the speaker or nodding his head. In this way he indicated that he was not happy with the tube. He understood that it was necessary to sustain life. Did he want to live? No. Did he want to die? No. Hearing his testimony, Judge Greenfield found it necessary to visit the patient himself and to conduct his own assessment of competency and patient preference. Once again he found the evidence unclear and the mes-sages ambiguous, leading him to conclude that the court could not order the removal of the tube. "It will not order the discontinuance of a life-support mechanism without the clearest and most compelling indications from the person most directly involved. Whenever there is doubt, a court must opt for the affirmation of life." For some weeks after the insertion of the stomach tube, Monsignor O'Brien seemed to improve. Attorney for the Shervier Home, Thomas Ford, reported that he took some food orally, attended physical therapy, and prayed the rosary with his nurse.5 He died on December 8, 1986, three months after surgery for the gastrostomy. No further legal action was taken with respect to his case. Who Speaks for the Incompetent Priest or Religious? In the wake of~ Eichner v. Dillon major superiors of religious con-gregations in the United States commissioned a study of the legal issues surrounding treatment decisions in terminal illness, patient rights, and sur-rogate decision-making for their members. Prepared in 1983 by Mary Cos-grove Consentino, Esq., for the Leadership Conference of Women Re-ligious and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (LCWR/CMSM), Health Care Decision Making for Incompetent Patients: Who Decides? provided an analysis of these issues, a review of rulings in the six states that had, at that time, acted on matters regarding who might decide whether life-sustaining equipment might be withheld from a terminally ill or permanently unconscious incompetent adult, and a set of recom-mendations for effecting surrogate decisi0n-making. Although this paper was not addressed specifically to clergy who are not members of religious institutes, many of its suggestions could be adapted for their use, and indeed for anyone contemplating the designa-tion of a proxy for health-care decisions. In the case of sisters, brothers, and priests who are members of religious communities, the analogy with the family offers strong support for the recognition of a fellow-member as the person best able to speak for an incompetent patient. Health-Care Directives / 207 Religious communities and dioceses will be concerned about these matters for a number of reasons. The individual person's rights of self-determination, privacy, and dignity in dying will be of paramount im-portance. In addition, there are legitimate concerns regarding the finan-cial costs of unnecessary and. futile treatment, the desire to avoid litiga-tion, and a need to clarify the roles of family and community members in decisions regarding medical treatment for priests .and religious sisters and brothers. The LCWR/CMSM paper recommends oral discussions--both for-mal and informal--as one means for bringing these concerns to the sur-face within a religious congregation. It had been this type of discussion that provided the occasion for Brother Fox to articulate his personal pref-erences regarding life-extending technology, remarks that were accepted as evidence by the courts. Increasingly, however, a more formal vehicle for the expression of directions concerning terminal care in the event of incompetency is advised. Referred to generically as Advance Directives, these may take the form of a living will or a durable power of attorney for health care. The living will is a directive executed by an individual while com-petent, specifying preferences concerning the types of treatment that one would wish in the event of incapacity. Typically these directives, antici-pating a condition of terminal illness and incompetency, request the with-holding of life-extending measures that would have the effect only of pro-longing the dying process. Durable powers of attorney are legal docu-ments authorizing an agent (the "attorney in fact") to make decisions on behalf of another person, even a~ter that person becomes incompe-tent (hence "durable" since traditional powers of attorney terminate with the incapacity of the principal). In each jurisdiction th'e binding force of living wills and durable pow-ers of attorney will depend on legislation (Natural Death Acts), compli-ance with statutory regulations, and the interpretation of the courts. As anyone familiar with the d~iily news will know, this is one of the most rapidly developing fields in medico-legal affairs. The LCWR/CMSM'pa-per reflects the state of the question on these matters only for ! 983 and must be updated. Highly recommended for this purpose is the recent publica~tion, A Mat-ter of Choice: Planning Ahead for Health Care Decisions, prepared in 1986 by attorney Barbara Mishkin for the U.S. Senate Special Commit-tee on Aging and distributed through the Special Projects Department of the American Association of Retired Persons.6 A Matter of Choice pro- 208 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 vides essential information that will greatly assist anyone contemplating the preparation of an Advance Directive for health care, as well as those charged with planning and implementing policy on these matters. Included in this report are the statutory provisions for the enactment of living wills in the 38 states that had legislated Natural Death Acts by September 1986, and a complete discussion of the durable power of at-torney, now recognized in all 50 states. Information regardingfamily con-sent statutes in the 17 states that have specific legislation regarding the rights of family members to make health-care decisions for incap.acitated adults is also provided, as are the provisions for making donations of bod-ily tissue or organs through the Uniform Anatomical Gift Act. Sample forms for living wills and durable powers of attorney are provided in an Appendix. The Durable Power of Attorney for Health Care There are some clear advantages of the DPA, making it preferable to a living will, and reflected in the recommendation and endorsement by the President's Commission for the Study of Ethical Problems in Medi-cine and Biomedical and Behavioral Research in 1983.7 As an Advance Directive it is more flexible and more personal: phy-sicians and others involved in health care will be interacting with a per-son who is cognizant of the actual condition of the patient, rather than with a document drafted at some time in the past. The agent, chosen by the patient with a view to being able to speak in his or her behalf, will be in a better position to authorize either continuation or termination of treatment, in consultation with physicians and others responsible for the patient's care. DPAs can be used in behalf of persons not terminally ill (someone with permanent loss of consciousness or with degenerative ill-ness) and can be drafted to authorize a variety of services. A further advantage over the living will is the fact that, with the leg-islation by the District of Columbia in January 1987, 50 states and the District now have DPA statutes. There is great variety among them, how-ever, and only the most recently enacted were designed explicitly for use in medical-treatment decisions. Since most were enacted primarily to authorize decisions regarding property, they are silent with regard to their possible use for health care. Increasingly, however, they are being rec-ommended for this purpose. Attorney Mishkin's report for the Senate Committee is optimistic regarding their application to this field: No court has ruled on the validity of powers of attorney in this context, however; therefore no one can say with absolute certainty that a power Health-Care Directives / 20~ of attorney for health care would be implemented by a court, if the ques-tion were posed. Nevertheless, since courts generally will accept clear and convincing evidence of a patient's wishes in matters concerning health care, the probability is high that a court would accept an incapaci-tated patient's designation of a proxy health care decision maker through a durable power of attorney.8 For members of religious congregations, the DPA seems best suited to one very important function: clarifying who may speak for the com-munity member when physicians and courts, in the absence of such a des-ignated proxy, may tend to assume that it would be next of kin. This is not to say that family members might not be involved in the consulta-tion, but that the designated spokesperson would be a member of the re-ligious institute. An Education Program for Priests and Religious In recent years many religious congregations, provinces, and dio-ceses in the U.S. have begun the process of widespread education of their members regarding these matters. In some instances these programs are well underway or nearing completion, with all members aware of their rights and responsibilities, in consultation with the legal, medical, and ethical expertise needed to facilitate the implementation of an effective policy. Others have just begun. The rapidly developing fields of biome-dical ethics and the law surrounding terminal care will assure that this will be an ongoing project for all groups. For those who have not yet fully considered these issues, a program for community education is sketched in broad outline. Whatever ap-proach is taken, the design should enabi~ members to come to g~:ips with the,major theological, ethical, legal, and medical questions raised by the new life-extending technologies. For members of communities under vow, these will be considered in the cohtext of congregational expecta-tions with respect to a common life, simplicity, and justice in the alloca-tion of resources. Theological Reflection Priests, brothers, and sisters who have chosen to live in dedicated service within the Roman Catholic Church will want to ground their re-flections on the long and well-articulated tradition of that Church regard-ing the sanctity of life, the ministry of healing and caring that defines Catholic health care, the redemptive role of pain and suffering, and the reality of human finitude and mortality. No document better summarizes 210 / Review for Religious, March-April 1988 that tradition and addresses the pressing moral questions t~aised by new forms of treatment than the Vatican Declaration on Euthanasia.9 The 1980 Declaration, prepared by the Congregation for the Doc-trine of the Faith, carefully distinguishes the terminology used in the eutha-nasia debate: actions and omissions, intentions and consequences, ordi-nary and extraordinary means-~clarified in this document in terms of treat-ments offering "proportionate" or "disproportionate" burdens and bene-fits. Its principles are clear and offer realistic guidelines. While affirming the.sanctity of life and God's sovereignty, the Dec-laration speaks also of the unavoidability of death. Seen in the light bf faith, death provides entrance into eternal life. We may not hasten the hour of death through suicide or murder, but we are not required to sub-mit to treatment that "would only secure a precarious and burdensome prolongation of life, so long as normal care due to the sick person in simi-lar cases is not interrupted." Care-givers act conscientiously when they "administer the remedies that seem necessary or useful." Medical in-terventions that are normally optional, are those in which "the investment in instruments and personnel is disproportionate to the results foreseen" or" those that "impose on the patient strain or suffering out of propor-tion with the benefits which he or she may gain from such techniques." Some Catholic religious may be initially hesitant regarding the legiti-macy of enacting advance directives, having read of the opposition of their bishops to living wills. In this regard it will be important to clarify that the opposition of Conferences of Bishops to state legislation of cer-tain Natural Death Acts was directed at the legislation and not at an indi-vidual person's right of self-determination in writin~g such a directive. Foreseeing the rapid development of law (39 states now have such legis-lation), the National Conference of Bishops, through its Committee for Pro-Life Activities, issued on November 10, 1984, "Guidelines for Leg-islation On Life-Sustaining Treatment." ~0 These guidelines, reflecting the Vatican Declaration, propose "ways of respecting the moral principles ¯ . . as well as related concerns of the Church, whenever there is a de-bate on whether existing or proposed legislation adequately addresses the subject. ' ' The Catholic Health Association distributes a directive, the "Chris-tian Affirmation of Life: A Statement on Terminal Illness," that provide.s an opportunity for a person to state his or her wishes regarding treatment in terminal illness, in full compliance with the principles of the Church. ~ In states that have legislation regarding living wills, some, but not all, Health-Care Directives / 911 allow departures from the statutory form, and this document might be used as an alternative. Women and men whose lives have been lived in faith will also ap-proach sickness and death inspired by the same faith, identifying with Jesus in obedience to the call of the Father. They will appreciate the min-istry of their brothers and sisters who care for them in their illness, and will be concerned to act as responsibly with the resources of their com-munities in their illness as they have done in good health. Belief in res-urrection and eternal life places decisions regarding medical intervention within a faith-context. It will be inappropriate to deny death by insisting on medical interventions that are futile and that only prolong the dying process. Ethical Principles Ethical discussion of the issues raised by new developments in medi-cine and life-extending technologies, when addressed to a broader pub-lic than the Catholic community, is frequently framed in terms of cer-tain principles that must be honored and balanced in the delivery of good health care. Among the principles most central to this debate and to the matter of advance directives are these four: self-determination (or auton-omy), beneficence, justice, and fidelity. The principle of autonomy is derivative from a recognition of the in-herent dignity of the person as a free and self-determining individual. As such., competent adults have a right to control what will be done to them regarding medical treatment, and others have a responsibility to respect their reasonable wishes. This right holds, also, for previously competent adults who have indicated what their preferences would be in the event of incompetency andlor who have designated a proxy to make decisions for them. The full exercise of this right requires adequate disclosure of information--the risks and benefits of alternative procedures--as foun-dation for truly informed consent or refusal. The right to self-determination is not absolute and may be overrid-den in certain circumstances. Patients, thus, may expect that their pref-erences will be honored unless they are in conflict with "compelling state interest," the stated policies of the health-care facility, or the pro-fessional integrity of the care-givers (who are also persons with the right to self-determination). For the religious who has freely joined and re-mained as a member of a community guided by the teachings of the Catho-lic Church, choices will be further limited by fidelity to those teachings. The more extreme interpretations of autonomy assume a radical individu- Review for Religious, March-April 1988 alism that is contrary to the commitment that members of a voluntary com-munity have with respect to one another. The principle of beneficence, or patient benefit in this context, re-quires that one do good and avoid doing harm. The negative requirement (nonrrialeficence) is a more stringent duty than is the need to provide posi-tive benefit to improve the lot of the patient. In fact, these two aspects of o

Issue 40.1 of the Review for Religious, January 1981. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every Iwo months, is ediled in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are Iocaled at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1981 by REWEW FOR RELiGiOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at SI. 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: Rt:vt~:w t'oR Rt:Lt(;tOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. .~eremiah L. Alberg, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor January, 1981 Volume 40 Number 1 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW t'ott 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 Universily; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW t'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. ++Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from Universily Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Review for Religious Volume 40, 1981 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63108 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Jeremiah L. Alberg, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, Sep-tember, and November on the fifteenth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1981 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOtJS. Toward a Method for the Study of Spirituality Edward Kinerk, S.J. Father Kinerk is presently on sabbatical leave, doing post-doctoral studies in spirituality at St. Louis University. He resides at Jesuit Hall; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108, A former professor of historical theology once described spirituality as a "gl0b" area. He explained this rather inelegant label by pointing out that spirituality enjoys an unlimited wealth of resources but possesses no tools for getting those resources organized. "I understand what it means to do history orto do theology," he objected, "but what does it mean to do spirituality?" StUdents contemplating work in spirituality will take small comfort in his remarks but they will know exactly what he meant, for, unlike most other academic disciplines, spirituality lacks both formal definition of its content and methodology proper to itself. Studies in the history of spirituality, prayer, religious life, Scripture, psychology, theology, and any number of authors and movements can be most beneficial in themselves, but where does one find the unifying principles to bring all this knowledge together? The occasional reader, who finds this or that work personally rewarding, will not be troubled by such abstract concerns,but this vagueness of content and style can be ~a formidable handicap for those who undertake a more thorough study, either for their own enlightenment or with the thought of being of service to others. In .the latter case one must analyze spiritualities, interpret them in their historical-cultural context, compare and contrast them to other spiritualities, and finally develop criteria for criticism and evaluation. The tools for such reflection are not commonly available in the way that they are for other disciplines, including theology.' Part of the difficulty lies in the very nature of spirituality. Except for the 3 4 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 Christological controversies of the fourth and fifth centuries it has been rare for theological speculation to elicit passionate responses on the part of Chris-tians, Spirituality, on the other hand, always makes at least an implicit appeal to the heart; it is much closer to people's lives and emotions than is theology. This is to be expected, but it places the "academic" study of spirituality in an awkward corner precisely because the material lends itself so immediately to practical application, the pastoral. Consequently, spirituality as a discipline finds itself more often called upon to train spiritual directors and retreat-givers than to engage in reflection. This onesidedness is risky. Spirituality can-not afford to neglect the mistakes or the riches which are a part of its heritage; nor can it forego with impunity the arduous task of using the theoretical pro-cess to correct the subtle mistakes of common sense.~ In a recent article for REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Father Alan Jones chronicled the split between devotion and theology--head and heart--and called for the redevelopment of mystical theology in order to "combat the tendency to anti-intellectualism today, particularly in areas where religious experience is concerned.-3 Using William Johnston's definition of mysticism as "wisdom or knowledge that is found through love,'" Father Jones sug-gested contemplation--which includes all levels of knowing--as the means of bringing reflection into religious experience and religious experience into theological reflection. Father Jones's concern to bring head and heart together must be a con-stant preoccupation for spirituality; the great classics were developed more in the chapel than in the library, though they depended on both. However, I believe that we have an auxiliary task which is less "creative" and more "organizational" in character. In order to bring the vast and often unwieldy material from the history of spirituality into the arena of our prayerful reflec-tion it must first be arranged into digestible form. The purpose of this article will be to suggest some questions or distinctions by which such arrangement can proceed: in other words, a method for the study of spiritualities. Of course, this is an ambitious undertaking, and 1 will protest in advance that ' Theologians may protest that method is a problem for them, too, but at least work is being done. Recently David Tracy has suggested five basic models which have influenced theologica~ inquiry: orthodox, liberal, neo-orthodox, radical, and his own "revisionist" model. See David Tracy, Blessed Rage for Order (Seabury, 1975), pages 22-34. Tracy has been influenced in part:through. his long association with the thought of Bernard Lonergan. In a very important work, Method in Theology (Seabury, 1979; first published: Herder & Herder, 1972), Lonergan ~ipplied his transcendental method to the task of developing a method in theology. 1 will cite Lonergan only briefly in the course of this article, but 1 need to acknowledge that the influence of Method has been considerable. 2 For an explanation of the relationship of the realm of common sense and the realm of theory, see Lonergan, Method, pp. 257-258. ' Alan Jones, "Spirituality and Theology," Rt~vm'w ~oR R~.l.~G~Ot~s 39 (1980), p. 171. ' William Johnston, The Inner Eye of Love (Harper & Row, 1978), p. 20. Jones cites this on p. 170 of his article. Study of Spirituality / 5 these are remarks "toward a method." But since the need is great, I hope that .any venture in this direction might prove useful. Spirituality needs (1) a definition of itself, (2) some tools for analyzing a particular spirituality, (3) some guidelines for relating a spirituality to other spiritualities, and (4) some criteria for evaluation. In the pages that follow I will make attempts in the first three areas and then conclude with some limited thoughts about the fourth. What Is Spirituality? Everyone has a notion of spirituality, but efforts to pin it down in defini-tion can, be frustrating. It is everywhere yet nowhere; its scope is so vast-- potentially as vast as the sum and depth of all human experience--that workable content virtually disappears. Spirituality has been described as "life-style." If we realize that this means more than length of hair and particular preferences for food and clothing, this definiton is actually quite good. A person's spirituality is the way in which he or she lives in accordance with basic values. The famous Swiss theologian, Hans Urs von Balthasar, has given this a more philosophical formulation: "The way in which [an individual] acts and reacts habitually throughout his life according to his objective and ultimate insights and decisions.''~ The strength of such a definition lies in its completeness; its weakness is that it is too complete. We are left afloat on a sea of private human experience with no markers to make this or that dimension of experience stand out. These defini-tions are good because they include everything, but they are not workable because they distinguish nothing. And without distinctions analysis is impossible. What should we look for in a workable definition? First of all, a definition of spirituality for the purpose of study should limit the material to what is expressed. Nothing canbe studied unless it iscommunicated in some way. It is true that spirituality must deal with the mysterious depths of the human per-son in relationship to God and that. this mystery often defies conceptualiza-tion. However, it is usually open to communication through symbolization; and this, too, is a form of expression. Spirituality studies expressions, and these expressions can be conceptual or symbolic: they can be words, or they can be art, music, architecture, or indeed any form of human activity. Of course, an individual's full experience of his or her relationship with God can never be adequately expressed., not even symbolically. This is simply a dif-ficulty which the study of spirituality must accept; we can only examine what is expressed and yet we know that the expression is never exhaustive of the reality. Secondly, a definition of spirituality should contain the idea of personal ~ Hans Urs yon Balthasar, "The Gospel as Norm and Test of All Spirituality in the Church," from Spirituality in the Church, Christian Duquoc, editor, Concilium, vol 9 (Paulist, 1965), p. 7. 6 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 growth. There is no spirituality for an animal, nor do we ever speak of God's spirituality.~ What distinguishes the human condition is growth beyond self, self-transcendence. There is a restlessness which is a constant striving to move from the less~ authentic to the more authentic. This is why spirituality gravitates so readily to psychology, and it is precisely the point at which the greatest care must be exercised not to confuse the two.7 Finally, as indicated earlier, a workable definition must contain markers: terms in the definition which orient the material by distinguishing what is important from what is unimportant. Without some means of making distinc-tions the material of spirituality presents an undivided sameness inimical to study. Markers differentiate that material; and this, in turn, facilitates ques-tions for analysis. The particular selection of markers will necessarily be somewhat arbi.t.rary. Here I have chosen to view any spirituality primarily from the standpoint of expressions of the authentic and expressions of the inauthentic. A spiri'tuality, then, is the expression ofa dialecticalpersonal growth from the inauthentic to the authentic. There are three ingredients in the definition: expression, dialectical personal growth, and authentic-inauthentic. Expres-sion need not be clarified further. Growth has been called dialectical to underscore the fact that all spiritual growth is a simultaneous "yes" to one thing and a "no" to something else. Each step toward the authentic demands a corresponding rejection of the inauthentic.8 The Gospel of Luke manifests this dia.lectical character in its expression of the beatitudes: every benediction has its corresponding curse (Lk 6:20-26). Inauthentic and authentic are the markers referred to above. The total authenticity of a human person would be his or her complete self, transcendence in love. Conversely, total inauthenticity would be complete self-alienation, self-centeredness in hate. For our purposes, however, expres-sions of the authentic and inauthentic will normally be but partial representa-tions of these absolute states. In a famous line from the Imitation of Christ, for example, compunction is an expression of the authentic while vain knowledge is an expression of the inauthentic;9 they are signposts along the ~ Process theologians may take exception to this. In a di-polar notion of God one might be able to speak of God's spirituality: "God in his consequent aspect receives into himself that which occurs in the world, so that it becomes the occasion for newer and richer, as well as better~ concretions in the ongoing movement of divine activity," W. Norman Pittenger, "Process Thought: A Contem-porary Trend in Theology," Process Theology, Ewert H. Cousins, editor (Newman, 1971), p. 27. Even if one were to accept this position, it would be quite difficult to move from the idea of a spirituality of God to its description. ' It is very easy for spiritual direction to become psychological counseling. Of course, sometimes this is desirable because it is counseling which is needed, but often we slide into a counseling framework simply because it seems to have more substance than spiritual direction. This again reveals the necessity of definition and methodology proper to spirituality. a Lonergan views this as a fundamental characteristic of religious development. See Method, p. II0. Study of Spirituality / 7 way. Furthermore, specific expressions of the authentic and the inauthentic are not always univocal, even within the sam, e spirituality. In the Cloud of Unknowing, meditation on Christ's passion can be either an expression of the authentic or the inauthentic, depending on the stage of one's contemplative development.'° Questions for Analysis In an age as hermeneutically conscious as our own, it need not be stressed that a pre~'equisite for the analysis of any spirituality is some understanding of its historical-cultural context. To be unaware, for instance, that the end of the Roman persecutions coincided with the great movement to the desert in the fourth century would be to miss the opportunity for many insights into the roots of desert spirituality. The historical-cultural context is available for anyone who wishes to take the time to do someresearch. Our project assumes that this research can and will be done, but we are concerned here with something more general. Questions for analysis must serve two purposes. They must provide a means of organizing the material of a spirituality in such a way that the material can be more easily assimilated. In other words, they must teach us how to read and. how to retain what we read more effectively. The other pur-pose is that of comparison and contrast. The questions for analysis must be such that they canbe asked more or less equally of any spirituality. It is only by putting the same questions to many different bodies of material that we can begin, the,process o.f comparing similarities and contrasting differences which will lead us to deeper understanding. The first question flows immediately from the terms of the definition: what.are the expressions of the authentic and the inauthentic? An effective way to begin answering this question is to make a list. Reading through the SpiritualExercises of St. Ignatius, for instance, we would observe that shame and confusion, sorrow, tears, anguish, intimate knowledge, poverty, humility and gratitudeI' are but some of the expressions of the authentic; and we could do the same for expressions of the inauthentic. Making a list is a good way to begin because it directs us to the text with a simple and specific objective: how does the spirituality express what it values and what it rejects? An exhaustive 9 "I would rather feel compunction of heart for my sins than merely know the definition of com-punction," Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, edited with an introduction by Harold C. Gardiner (Image, 1955), Book I, chapter 1. ,o The Cloud of Unknowing, by an anonymous fourteenth-century Englishman, edited and in-troduced by William Johnston (Image, 1973), chapter vii. , '~ Ignatius Loyola, Spiritual Exercises, translation by Louis J. Puhl (Newman, 1954). Shame and confusion, sorrow, tears and anguish are from the First Exercise of the First Week, #48; intimate knowledge of Christ is from the First Comtemplation of the Second Week, #104; poverty and humility are from the Two Standards, #147; and gratitude isffrom the Contemplation to Attain the Love of God, #233. 8'/Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 list is rarely possible or even desirable, but we do want to be certain that we ini-tiate our analysis by carefully gathering all of the pertinent expressions. A list gives us the concrete expressions from which to work, but it is too one-dimensional to be of more than limited value. By itself a list cannot single out those expressions which are of special importance, nor can it fit them into a pattern of meaning. What we lack is an organiz.ing form'2 which could give the expressions depth and a relationship to one another. In the SpiritualExer-cises an excellent illustration of such a form is the image of the Two Stand-ards: the Kingdom of Christ verstis the Kingdom of SatanI' ~ The Kingdom of Christ gives depth and relationship to t.he expressions of the authentic while the Kingdom of Satan does the ~ame for the inauthentic. Intimate knowledge, poverty, humility, gratitude and the like contribute definite nuances to the understanding of the nature of these two kingdoms; and the expressions, in turn, receive their full meaning only in relationship to the complete image. The Two Standards are the unifying image for expressions in Ignatian spirituality. While Ignatius himself gives the organizing form of the Two Standards, it is often necessary to uncover a form which is not itself one of the particular images used in a given text. Such would be thecase in the Life'ofAntony by Athanasius. ~4 Clearly the text does not lack for images, but the best organizing form is rather the structure which Athanasius employs to develop his story: a series of four withdrawals by Antony, each one into greater solitude. The authgr uses these withdrawals to highlight periods of development in Antony's life, and each period unifies a corresponding set of expressions of the authentic and the inauthentic. In the first withdrawal Antony left his home to li~,e on the outskirts of the village with an older ascetic. The expressions of the authentig and the inauthentic are characteristic of a "novitiate" period: zeal, faith, desire for purity of heart, imitation 6f the older ascetic were set in opposition to anxiety over f~mily, money, fame, difficulties of asceticism and sexuality. In the second withdrawal, closing himself into a tomb,, the chief ex- '~ The identification of basic units (expr~essions of the authentic and the inauthentic) and the discovery of the forms by which these expressions are related have a slight resemblance to struc-turalism. However, a double caution is in order. In i!s extreme sense structuralism can become an ideology in which all we can know about a system are its basic units and their associations; further meaning would be denied. In a less ideological sense structuralism is a method of inquiry which can be more friendly to theology and spirituality, but even here--as the term can be 'very am-biguous- l wish to make clear that my own use is limited to exactly what has been described in the text. '~ Spiritual Exercises, #13~,- 148. ~' St. Athanasius, Patriarch of Alexandria, was probably the author of the Life ofA ntony shortly after the hermit's death in 356. Antony represented a prototype .for the desert fathers, and, whatever the historical accuracy of the Life, it c~ertainly had a profound influence" on desert spiritqality. This important work is once again available in English: Athanasius: The Life of St. AntOny and the Letter to Marcellinius, translation and introduction by Robert C. Gregg, preface~ by William A. CIcbsh (Paulist, 1980~ Study of Spirituality p~'essions of the inauthentic are wild imaginings, terror and the temptation to flight, while defiance of the demons, perseverance and faith are expressio ~ns of the authentic. From the tomb Antony went to live in an abandoned fort in the desert where he was besieged by the demons. A hint of weariness from the clamor of the demons is the only expression of the inauthentic while expres-sions of the authentic reflect Antony's growing strength: confidence, utter equilibrium, purity of soul, and so forth. Antony's final withdrawal was to the "inner mountain" which is described in paradisal terms. The expression of the inauthentic most characteristic of this period is pride in the power God has given him; while the expressions of the authentic are the manifestations of the power of the Spirit working through Antony: overpowering the demons, curing the sick, instructing the monks and confiz lnding the heretics.~ It is not always possibly to find a single form o of material together. One rather difficult text is tt fine analysis of this spiritual classic, Bernard SI truths which they [the four books of the Imitati~ ranged according to a precise play, a rational s~ dialectic."~6 Much of the difficulty is due to the sl of thoughts useful to the spiritual life, possibly There is a variety of equal themes, and so no sine could give unity to all the expressions. The most o is to discover, or invent, several forms which toge into useful patterns. As a corollary to the organizing forms we can i of the authentic and the inauthentic for stages of s life is a type of growth but in many well-devei specified stages,'7 and the key for detecting thesl sions of the authentic and the inauthentic. When ~ authentic becomes an expression of the inauthen growth has been crossed. An example of this ha~ i the Cloud of Unknowing: meditation on Christi! the authentic for the beginner but just the oppt vanced in the spirit of contemplation. Sometimes 'image which will tie a body Imitation of Christ. In his ~aapen has noted that "the n] enfold have not been ar-ructure, or a psychological yle of the work: a collection by more than one author. le form can be found which ne can do in such a situation ther best gather the material dso examine the expressions !iritual growth. All spiritual 9ed spiritualities there are ~ stages lies with the expres-particular expression of the tic, then a stage of spiritual dready been furnished from passion is an expression of ~site for someone more ad-the stages of growth will be '~ The four journeys: leaving his home to live on the outskirts of a village (Life of Antony, c. 4); living in the tomb (Ibid, c. 8); from tl~e tomb to the abandoned fort (Ibid, cc. 11-12); and the withdrawal to the inner mountain (Ibid, cc. 49-51). ,6 Bernard Spaapen, "A New Look at an Old Classic," from Imitating Christ, E. Malatesta, editor, Religious Experience Series, vol. 5 (Abbey Press, 1974). This work is a translation from the French Dictionary of Spirituality. " Frequently a spirituality will describe the break between an unreflective Christian life and the desire to lead a more spiritual life. Another break occurs later when the Christian leaves the period characterized by struggle and "spiritual achievement" and moves more into a climate of sur-render and "spiritual giftedness." The classical distinctions have been the three ways: purgative, illuminative, and unitive. 10 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 the structure giving unity to the material, but this will not always be the case. The second question for analysis comes from the idea of personal growth. A ~pirituality which reaches the state of expression does not appear out of the vacuum, but it is the maturation of much personal experience. One or many have traveled a similar dialectical journey from the inauthentic to the authen-tic and from this experience comes a wealth of valuable insight. This insight, which embodies both the techniques and the lived experience of the journey, can be called wisdom, and it is the ob)ect of the second question: what is the wisdom of a particular spirituality? To discover the wisdom of'a particular spirituality we must look at its teaching. In what special manner does a spirituality propbse.to find God, and what experience flows from its techniques of encounter? In the Life of Antony, for example, wisdom comes especially from the experience of solitude, x~hich for the desert fathers meant struggle with demons representing every imaginable thought or feeling. The wisdom of the Life of Antony is expressed in a long speech by the hermit to a group of other hermits assembled for the occasion.'8 This speech, often called a speech on discernment, is a description of what to expect in solitude and how to deal with whatever (or whomever) occurred. The wisdom of the desert employs some of the most colorful and varied imagery in the history of spirituality, but it is always characterized by the detection and diminishment of interior turmoil in order to find and preserve apatheia.'9 A very different example, though with striking parallels, is fouhd in the wisdom of St. Ignatius. The Spiritual Exercises express wisd6m not in speeches but in appendices: rules for thinking with the Church, rules for eating, rules for discernment, and so on. Ignatian wisdom, however, is not contained equally in all these rules but in one special and famous set: the rules for the discernment of spirits.2° As mentioned above, the primary image of lgnatian spirituality is the Two Standards, and the go~.l is to serve with Christ who wishes to spread his Kingdom and defeat the Kingdom of Satan. Now these kingdoms will enjoy victory or suffer defe~t as a result of our particular choices. However, the kingdoms are distinguished from each other less by the ,8 Life of Antony, cc. 16-43. ,9 Apatheia was the ascetical goal of the desert fathers. It was not apathy but rather a state of in-terior calm and recollection. Athanasius described this state in the Life of Anthony: "The state of his soul was one of purity, for it was not cpnstricted by grief, nor relaxed by pleasure, nor affected by either laughter or dejection. Moreover, when he saw th'e crowd, he was not annoyed any more than he was elated at being embraced by so many people. He maintained utter equilibrium, like one guided by reason and steadfast in that which accords with nature" (c. 14). Perhaps the best summary of desert wisdom is contained in the writings of Evagrius Ponticus (d. 399), especially in his Praktikos. This has been translated together with Chapters on Prayer and published as Praktikos: Chapters on Prayer translated and edited by John Eudes Bamberger, O.C.S.O. (Cistercian Publication, 1970). ~o Spiritual Excercises, #313-336. Study of Spirituality object of a particular choice than by attitudes. Consequently, the disciple of Christ must differentiate between objects of possible choice according to authenticating.feelings (attitudes) or their opposites. The rules for the discern-ment of spirits, are Ignatius' wisdom for making this all important differentia-tion and decision. There is no need to multiply examples. Wisdom gets at the heart of a particular spirituality because it taps the special experience of the person or persons who have lived it. Often referred to "thoughts" in describing the struggle of solitude and to apatheia as the goal of that struggle. For Ignatius, the key word would be discernment. On the other hand, there need not be but one wisdom for every spirituality. Moving beyond the Spiritual Exercises one could speak also of a wisdom of obedience in Ignatius. The 0b)ective~is to identify the central insights of a spirituality; insights, however, that flow from matured experience. Finally, we.should underline the fact that questions for analysis--expres-sions and wisdom--are effective for focusing and organizing the material, but they certainly do not exhaust its riches. In addition to the fact that no set of questions can ever draw everything from the material, a spirituality will always retain a certain opacity regardless of how carefully it is scrutinized; ~and we will always find ourselx~es returning to the source for clarification, new insight, and personal edification. However, at some point in time we must determine that an analysis is finished, both in the number of questions asked and in the depth of the answers. It is the suggestion of this article that the two questions given above will focus and organize the material sufficiently to enable us to turn to the wider arena of comparison and contrast of different spiritualities. Questions for Comparison and Contrast Bernard Lonergan has described method as"a normative pattern of recur-rent and related operations yielding cumulative and progressive results.''2' What we have thus far isnot a complete method but its foundation. Questions for analysis provide a normative pattern of operat!ons which can be applied to. any number of particular spiritualities, but only continued application fol-lowed by comparison and contrast will yield cumulative and progressive results. Now the general matter for any comparison and contrast would normally be the exprbssions of the authentic and the inauthentic, the images and forms which give them unity, and the expressions of wisdom. From this one could proceed in any number of ways depending only on time, interest, and avail-ability of sources. Let us suppose, for example, that someone was interested in the general topic of prayer and that he or she had some familiarity with both 2, Lonergan, Method, p. 4. 12 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 the Cloud of Unknowing and the works of John of the Cross. Even an exami-nation'of the titles would reveal that "cloud" and "night" are expressions of the authentic for both. A study of the similarities and differences between the Cloud's understanding of "cloud" and John of the Cross's understanding of "night" might prove to be a straightforward and interesting investigation into the meaning of apophatic prayer.2' Ordinarily the work of comparison and contrast will draw heavily on our ability to understand the relative hist6rical-cultural contexts. This can be given some direction, however, if we keep in mind two principles for compari-son. The first is that a spirituality cannot help but reflect certain cosmological perspectives. As a result we should always ask: what understandings of space and time shape the relationship between self, world, and God for a particular spirituality? For example, the Life of Antony used a simple cosmological framework which placed a person on top of the world but under two concen-tric hemispheres: the air, which was the abode of the demons, and the sky, which was heaven and the abode of God. Thus, to go to God one had to leave the world and ascend through the air, and this meant battles with the demons. Today we experience ourselves through a cosmology which is couched in evolutionary and psychological terms. Instead of place, time is the important parameter: it is no longer "up" and "down" which correspond to the authen-tic and the inauthentic but "transformation" and "regression." The discovery and investigations of the unconscious have forged a new vocabulary for our descriptions of evil, human growth, and the nature of freedom. The unconscious has also given us a new locus for expressions of the authentic and the inauthentic. The cosmology of the day--be it Antony's, our own, or any other--will not only shape the expressions of spirituality but it will also locate those expressions in accordance with its perception of the relationship in time and space of self, world, and God. ~: The cosmological questions can be made specific. The question, "'Where is Christ?" yields interesting resolts when asked of St. Basil the Great (fourth century) and St. Ignatius (sixteenth century). Each has a passage about Christ the King and his call to men and women to follow him, but note the different images for describing where Christ is and the practical consequences for discipleship. For Basil: "Where is Christ the King? In heaven, to be sure. Thither it behooves you, soldier of Christ, to direct your course. Forget all earthly delights.''23 Ignatius, however, perceived the world as friendlier potential for the self's encounter with God: "Consider Christ our Lord, standing in a lowly place in a great plain about the region of Jerusalem . ,,2, And instead of forgetting the world in order to go to Christ in heaven, Ignatius See note 28 below. Basil, "An Introduction to the Ascetical Life," From St. Basic, Ascetical Works, TheFathers of The Church vol. 9, translated by Sister M. Monica Wagner, C.S.C. (New York, 1950), p. 9. Spiritual Exercises, #144. ¯ Study of Spirituafity / 13 encourages people to follow a Christ who "sends them throughout the whole world to spread his sacred doctrine among all men, no matter what their state or condition.''25 We can do similar comparisons for time. "'When will Christ come?" For St. Paul and the early Christians the answer was, "Soon!" But for most of the Church's history until recently, the question of time hasn't been that impor-tant. Most Christians tended to regard the world as having a certain timeless stability. The important time was not Christ's coming in glory but the individ-ual's meeting with Christ at death. Today, however, an evolutionary con-sciousness has made time very important. When will Christ come for someone imbued with the vision of Teilhard de Chardin? He will come when the human race, now responsible for cooperating in its own evolution, will have (with God's grace) brought about the kingdom. Statements about time and place are not theological statements; they are descriptions of world views. The location of a spirituality within its particular cosmological framework makes possible the comparison and contrast of similar expressions which come from widely different historical-cultural con-texts. It would be far beyond the scope of this article to attempt to outline the world views which have shaped and been shaped by western thought, but it is worth mentioning here two books which are particularly insightful: Romano Guardini's The End of the Modern World and John Dunne's A Search for God in Time andMemory.~6 Guardini has mapped out four cosmologies fun-damental to the history of western thought: classical, medieval, modern, and post-modern. If we take into account that much has occurred which might further clarify his analysis of the present (post-modern) period, this work is very useful. Dunne has given the study of world views an interesting refine-ment by pointing to the different~ ways in which autobiographies have been written: a story of deeds (classical), a gamut of experience (Augustine), a lad-der of experience (medieval), and a story of appropriation (modern and con-temporary). This does not do justice to the nuances given by Dunne, but the distinctions he introduces are invaluable for appreciating the genres under which spiritual growth has been described. A second principle for comparison and contrast is that there exist specifi-cally different, yet equally valid, spiritualities within the Church. In other words, spiritualities differ not only because of various historical-cultural backgrounds, but they also differ according to type. Of course, a rigid and exclusive classification would be impossible and undesirable, but the varied emphases of many spiritualities suggest that we might discover several models which would help us to better understand similarities and differences. ~ lbid, #145. 2~ John Dunne, A Search for God in Time and Memory (Macmillian, 1967). Romano Guardini, The End of the Modern World, edited with an introduction by Frederick D. Wilhelmsen, translated by Joseph Theman and Herbert Burke (Sheed and Ward, 1956). "14 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 To develop models it Js necessary to select criteria for differentiation. This selection, always arbitrary, establishes the parameters by which the models are distinguished. Here the criteria will be "attitudes" toward two potential loci for expressions of the authentic: the world--including human society and institution--and history--especially change and conversion. We can deter-mine the models by asking this question: does a spirituality view the world and/or history as a positive locus for expressions of the authentic?2' If a spirituality is not positive toward either we will call it apophatic; if it is positive toward both we will call it apostolic; if it is positive toward the world but not toward history we will call it city-ofrGod; and if it is positive toward history but not toward the world we will call it prophetic. At one extreme, answering "no" to both the world and to history, are the apophatic'8 spiritualities. These are the mystical spiritualities known to us today primarily through the Cloud of Unknowing, John of the Cross, and Thomas Merton. For an apophatic spirituality, the chief expression of the authentic is negation of the specific image: one goes toGod through unknow-ing or through darkness. It should be stressed, however, that the apophatic spiritualities do not necessarily hold that the world is evil or that history is meaningless; one need only think of the concern and involvement of Thomas Merton. The apophatic spiritualities emphasize a wisdom of contemplation through negation, and the goal of that contemplation is the love and knowledge of God. A curiosity of apophatic prayer is that its central insight-negation- should never be practiced by a beginner. Both the Cloud and John of the Cross counsel that apophatic prayer is not for everyone, that beginners should definitely rely on the media.ting image, and that there are signs by which one can know if he or she is called to this form of prayer.'9 At the other extreme, answering "yes" to both world and history, are the apostolic spiritualities. An apostolic spirituality views the world and history as a locus for self-transformation, Its expressions can vary greatly. Ignatius was concerned with "the defense and propagation of the faith and the progress of souls.''3° For Ignatius holiness was found through an involvement with the 27 The idea for this came to me from reading John Macquarrie, Christian Hope (Seabury, 1978). In a s~ction called, "A Typology of Interpretations" (pp.86-88), Macquarrie works out four types of Christian hope: individual vs. social, this-worldly vs. other-worldly expectations, evolutionary vs. revolutionary, and realized vs. future. 2a Apophatic: in speaking of God one can either affirm certain truths (kataphatic theology) or, realizing that God is beyond any conceptualization, one can speak o'f him by negation (apophatic theology). The apophatic mystics are those whose way the the way of unknowing. This can be found to a high degree in many mystical writers, and the chief source for ~their apophatic vocabulary is the work of a mysterious Syrian monk of the t:ifth or sixth century who has been known through the ages as Dionysius the Areopagite or pseudo-Dionysius. 29 Cloud of Unknowing, c. 75. John of the Cross~ Ascent of Mount Carmel, translated, edited, and introduced by E. Allison Peers (Image, 1958) Book I1, c. xiii, pp. 219-223. ~0 Ignatius Loyola, The Formula of the Institute, as contained in the papal bull, Exposcit debitum Study of Spirituality world in an attempt to spread the kingdom. Ignatius' successor, Father Pedro Arrupe, wants "the conversion of the individual" but he also wants to "transform the world into a fit habitation for justice and humanity.''3' It is important to distinguish apostolic work from apostolic spirituality as that model is being described here. Everyone is called in some way to the apostolate, but not everyone seeks God primarily through involvement with the world and the transformation of its history. When a particular spirituality adopts the vocabulary of involvement and transformation in its expressions of the authentic and the inauthentic and in its statement of wisdom, then it exem-plifies the essential marks of the apostolic model. A city-of-Godspirituality, saying "yes" to the world and "no" to history, is characterized by the location of expressions of the authentic in one special place in the world to the exclusion of others. This place, which then becomes a reflection of the kingdom of God, could be a monastery, the home, or even the individual human heart. St. Benedict summarized his wisdom in the form of a Rule: how to live the kingdom together in the monastery. The Imitation of Christ counsels flight to the safety of our own hearts where "you will see the kingdom of God come into your soul.''32 A city-of-God spirituality has probably been the norm for most Christians throughout history, and it is also a characteristic of every other type of spirituality, even if not the primary one. Whenever we focus on a particular community or on our own heart we are highlighting the city-of-God dimension of our spiritual lives, The prophetic spirituality finds expressions of the authentic in .history but not in the world. The Old Testament prophet offered interpretations of history as well as judgments. The radical poverty of St. Francis of Assisi was a judgment of the abuse of material wealth and it was a sign of hope in a God who would fulfill all promises. Prophetic spirituality is often characterized.by living one or more of the gospel values to an extreme: Francis and poverty, the virgins and ascetics living a life of celibacy while awaiting martyrdom in the early Church, or the gospel-motivated civil disobedience in our own times. While prophetic spirituality often contains the dimension of a "challenge" it certainly need not be a gloomy spirituality--as witnessed by the joy of St. Francis. Once again, we must not adhere to these models too rigorously. The ex-amples given above illustrated the tendencies of their respective models to a marked degree; but most spiritualities, includ!ng those mentioned, are mix-of July 21, 1550. Translation from Th~ Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, translated and edited by George Ganss (Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 66. ~ Pedro Arrupe, "The Challenge of the World and the Mission of the Society," opening address to the Thirty-Second General Congregation of the Society of Jesus. Published in .4 Planet to Heal translated with notes by John Harriott (Ignatian Center of Spirituality, Rome, 1975), p. 312. ~ Imitation of Christ, Book 11, c. 1. 16 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 tures of all four, with perhaps one or more predominating. With this caution. in mind we could make use of the models to organize and clarify the dif-ferences and similarities we observe among the various spiritualities. For ex-ample, both Ignatius of Loyola and John of the Cross were sixteenth-century Spanish saints who shared the same geography and culture. The spiritualities of both these men are familiar enough to us that we would not be surprised to find a number of significant differences in spite of similar backgrounds. We know that consolation is an important part of the spirituality of Ignatius: it is an expression of the authentic, something to be sought in prayer. For John of the Cross, on the other hand, consolation in prayer was often a sign of the in-authentic: the contemplative advancing in prayer should neither seek consola-tion nor trust it when it came.~3 This apparent contradiction is resolved when we remember that we are dealing with two very different models of spiritual-ity. John, the apophatic mystic who shuns specific images so as to approach God in the "night," is consistent within his model when he rejects consola-tions. Ignatius, the apostolic man who finds God in the world through specific choices, is consistent in asking to have these choices confirmed through con-solation. Apophatic and apostolic are different paths of spiritual growth. Towards Evaluation Ultimately evaluation is the responsibility of the Church, and over the cen-turies she has generally given a wide latitude to the expressions claiming to be of the Spirit. As long as a spirituality refrained from making its charism nor-mative for all Christians, maintained a balanced view of theology and human nature, and did not habitually defy the directions of the hierarchy, the Church has been at least tolerant if not actively supportive. Ronaid Knox has catalogued a number of exotic spiritual movements beginning with the Corin-thian community, and his very thorough work is an encyclopedia of spiritual aberrations together with the appropriate judgment of the Church.3' Negative criteria are much easier to establish than positive, and the records of the Holy Office detail specific distortions to be avoided rather than positive principles on which to build. But, then, most great spiritual leaders did not consult the Vatican archives in order to construct a charism; they responded to the work of the Spirit and left the editing to others. Nonetheless~ it is possible to point out three indicators of a good spirituality: good theology, good sense, and good results. Good spirituality must flow out of the Christian communi-ty's understanding of the gospel and hence must exhibit good theology. Spirituality is a human movement, and so good spirituality should reflect a keen sensitivity to the human condition--good sense. Finally, a good spirituality will produce good results because it will be the work of the Holy Spirit-- "Whoever remains in me, with me in him, bears fruit in plenty" (Jn 15:5). John of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel, Book II, cc. 4, 7. Ronald Knox, Enthusiasm (Oxford University Press, 1961). Study of Spirituality / 17 Good theology and good sense are not abstract principles which can be ap-plied unerringly to any new situation. In most cases they are the culmination of a long process of give and take between the Church and the proponents of a new spirituality. On the one side there must be an increasingly sympathetic understanding of the expressions of the new spirituality; on the other, there must be a growing clarification of the meanings of those expressions. Let us take St. Francis of Assisi and the Franciscans as an example. The cry for the vita apostolica--a return to the life of the gospels in penance, poverty, and preaching--did not appear suddenly in 1206 when Francis over-came his fear of leprosy. The twelfth century had already witnessed a large nu.mber of spiritual movements toward the vita apostolica, and many of these movements were in tension with the Church. A change in the socio-economic climate, the abuses of wealth especially among the clergy, and the Church's own reforms of the eleventh century had brought about a hunger for new ways of expressing the spiritual aspirations of those who did not feel called to the cloistered life of the monastery. The Cathars,3~ the Humiliati,~6 and the Waldensians~' were some of the better known movements which answered to this hunger. Almost inevitably there was resistance from the official Church. If we leave aside misunderstandings and personal animosities, this resistance was usually on theological and pastoral grounds. Theologically, the new movements presented opinions ranging from the outright dualism of the Cathars tothe denial of the validity of a sacrament administered by a corrupt priest. Such theological opinions, which touched the sacramental nature of the Church, could not be tolerated. Pastorally, the issue was normally over the right to preach. Did a person who took the gospel seriously and lived poorly have the right to preach without the permission of the local clergy or bishops? Both the Waldensians and the Humiliati approached Rome for approval but were rebuffed on the question of preaching. No one denied the need for greater poverty, and the pope himself called ~' The Cathars, also known as Albigensians, were especially active in southern France from the middle of the twelfth century. They were virtually a distinct religion with their own organization of dioceses. Theologically they were influenced by the Bogomils of Bulgaria whose theology can be traced back to a Manichean dualism. ~6 The Waldensians were an evangelical movement founded by Valdes, a merchant from Lyons~ They attempted to remain orthodox but were forbidden to preach at the time of the Third Lateran Council (I 179). ~' The Humiliati appeared in northern Italy during the second part of the twelfth century. They were forbidden to preach in 1179 but were eventually reconciled to the Church by Innocent III in 1201. He gave them a threefold rule which regulated the men as canons regular, the women as religious, and a group of married people as a type of third order. For an interesting treatment of the dealings of Innocent Ill with the Humiliati see Brenda Bolton, "Innocent lll's Treatment of the Humiliati", from Popular Belief and Practice, edited by G.J. Cuming and Derek Baker (Cambridge University Press, 1972). 18 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 the bishops and clergy to task for their failure to preach the gospel;38 it was a c/uestion of finding the right form. What took place in the twelfth century was a twofold development whereby the new expressions of spirituality were being clarified against the theological-pastoral demands of the Church; and the Church was learning to listen with more sympathy to the different spiritual needs of her people. By the end of the century the time was ripe for Francis and Dominic. Of course, the phenomenon of St. Francis was not just the inevitable out-come of an historical development. It was also the special work of God's grace in a man who was both generous enough to respond to the call for a life of radical poverty and humble enough to listen to the voice of the Church. Nonetheless, that long century of development points to the kind of prepara-tion and hard work out of which true spiritual insight is born. Nor did Innocent lII's approval of Francis in 1209 complete the process. As numbers increased problems did also. Good sense and a sound understanding of human nature called for certain modifications. More structure and organiza-tion were needed which could channel the charism without destroying it. Pro-vinces were established, local houses and superiors appointed and a year's novitiate was required.39 If we shift back into our own century we realize that the Church is con-stantly faced with new expressions of spirituality arising from the legitimate aspirations of a people hungering for God. These new movements need ~to be examined in the light of good theology and good sense, and they need to receive the sympathetic understanding of the Church. A serious study of spirituality can make a genuine contribution to this endeavor. First of all, a new spirituality needs to identify, and then clarify its expres-sions. This is the work of analysis described earlier. What are the expressions of the authentic and the inauthentic and the forms which organize them? What is its wisdom? Only after these questions are carefully answered does theological evaluation become possible. When we know the expressions of the spirituality and their relationship to one another, then we know its theological stance and we can judge it. The analysis will also reveal the spirituality's perspective on human nature, its understanding of the human condition. While great care must be exercised here, it would violate good sense to have a ,8 In his treatment of the twelfth century, M.-D. Chenu wrote: "Peter the Chanter had denounced the 'most dreadful silence' (pessima taciturnitas) of the clergy, and both Peter and Innocent Ill had invoked a phrase from Isaiah (56:10) to repudiate "these muted dogs who don't have it in them to bark," M.-D. Chenu, Nature, Man, and Society in the Twelfth Century." Essays on New Theological Perspectives in the Latin West, selected, edited, and translated by Jerome Taylor and Lester L. Little. preface by I~tienne Gilson. (University of Chicago Press, 1968), p. 244. ~9 For a discussion of these developments, see Cajetan Esser, Origins of the Franciscan Order, translated by Aedan Daly, O.F.M: and Dr. lrina Lynch (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1970); see especially Chapter Ill: "First Crises and Attempts to Overcome Them." Study of Spirituality / 19 spirituality which proved to be psychologically destructive. It has unfor-tunately happened in the history of spirituality that "leaving the world" has become an occasion for hatred and destruction of the self or the body rather than a love for God?° Finally, analysis of a new spirituality will reveal its in-ternal coherence or lack thereof. This is important because personal growth demands a certain degree of unity of purpose and technique, and a spirituality which seems to move in many different directions at the same time will only provoke confusion and frustration. While this may appear to be obvious, it is not always so easy to recognize. For example, a spirituality expressed entirely in a nineteenth-century idiom might exhibit good theology and good psychology, but unless it is able to translate itself coherently into the language and forms of the twentieth century there will always be an unnecessary tension from trying to operate in a world view, a cosmology, which is no longer our own. This was one of the reasons for Vatican II's call for adaptation in religious life. In addition, a new spirituality needs to be understood externally, and this is the work of comparison and contrast. From the Church's standpoint, evaluation will be enhanced wfien a spirituality is known in relation to other spiritualities both past and present. This much goes without saying~ But such an external understanding'can also be quite useful for the spirituality itself. One of the habitual dangers for a new movement is to see itself as being unique in respo ~nding to the call of the gospels. Time and time again this has resulted in sectarianism and heresy. When a spirituality understands itself in the con-text of.history it will be better able to appreciate its uniqueness without overestimating its importance. 40 An extreme example of this might be found in the Cathars who practiced (though rarelY,) a form of suicide by starvation called endura. This occurred only after the reception of the consolamen-turn which was a conbination of baptism and Eucharist. Once the believer received the con'- solarnentum he or she was to live without any sin whatsoever. It was in fear of a relapse that some chose to end their lives as soon after consolsmentum as possible. The Treasurer As Professional Paschal Phillips, O.C.S.O. Father Phillips is a member of the monastery of Our Lady of Guadalupe Trappist Abbey; Lafayette, OR 97127. Ulnder the bland title of this article lurks a contentious thesis. I hope to demonstrate that the function of the provincial treasurer is a specialized, pro-fessional calling, importantly distinct from related professions such as accounting or management, but every bit as clearly definable and of crucial importance to religious communities. The practical issue of all this appears in the damage done through failure to recognize or effectively utilize this unique function, and the concomitant misjudgments concerning training, qualification, and role recognition. Problems of Definition At the outset, the multiplicity of terms presents a hurdle with symbolic overtones. Titles such as "procurator" "econome" "cellarer" "fiscus" and "minister" vie with more commonplace old standbys like "treasurer" and "business manager" in vague but roughly interchangeable usage. The fact that such nebulous nomenclature has continued points to a lack of reflection on the common nature of the office underlying the multiple titles. Admittedly the office, which we shall for simplicity's sake henceforth call "treasurer," does admit of multiple definitions, since it changes not only from congregation to congregation, but, even more radically, with the person-alities of the incumbent and of the major superior served by the incumbent. In fact, it is usually easier to note major differences in the function which ensue from each provincial election than it is to discover a consistent pattern of divergence between the "economes" of congregation X and the "proc-urators" of congregation Y. 2O The Treasurer as Professional / 21 Besides, any congregation is free to define the duties of its various officers without having to make special reference to neat patterns convenient to the writers of magazine articles. It might follow that analyzing the functions of a treasurer is spreading nets to catch the wind, and that the function--if indeed there is a function at all--is characterized mostly by its lack of fixed form, for its utility lies largely in adapting to present circumstances and local custom. This is certainly true so far as peripheral duties such as bookkeeping go. But, under all the pluralism, a hard core of significance remains that may reward further reflection. The Core Function We live in a world of professionalism. Our first thought, in any need, is to call in a specialist. But routine can create problems. We are so used to calling in an "ologist,"'or training a member of the community to become one (which amounts to the same thing) that we hardly notice, much less reflect upon, the rather delicate set of questions that ought to proceed the call: Do we need help? Is this area important? Wti6m shall we consult? How Will the answers we get be conveyed to the community and its superiors? How will they be adapted to our needs? And how will we know that the answers have been accurately grasped, and emotionally accepted? The core-function of the provincial treasurer appears to be discovered through asking questions such as those, and providing some approaches to the answers. The function might be defined as liaison between the religious pur-pose of the community, and "the world" as organizational (business, legal, financial aspects). An example may clarify. Take the question of accounting: in many a congregation, any sentence which connects the words "treasurer" and "professional" automatically elicits the image of technical accountant. After all, the thinking goes, do we not carefully train teachers and cooks, pro-vincials and novice masters? So send the treasurer off to the university, and turn him or her into a C.P.A.! But there's the rub! We may have trained a C.P.A. who can perform a useful function-- but we have not trained a treasurer. This is not to deny that technical accounting abilities are one of the building blocks, but it does sug-gest that one building block does not make a whole structure. Reconstruct the scene from, that unfamiliar vantage point which defines the treasurer as the person who provides the liaison between the religious com-munity as religious and "the world" as organization. Obviously, accounting expertise is essential to understand and analyze much of what the organiza-tional world has to say to the religious, as it is also essential to translate some of the organizational and support problems of the community into a concise form that can be understood by speakers of "business-ese." But to stop at that point sets the stage for a familiar scenario: a treasurer who conceives his entire function to be that of expert in accounting (and he exists in a milieu where the tacit assumptions all reenforce this point of view), produces ever 22 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 more sophisticated and technically accurate quarterly reports, and submits them in all their complexity to a superior and council whose ability to under-stand them is no more sophisticated than it ever was. In practice the community ends with some poorly conceived mixture of ad hoc remedies. For example, the superior himself burns the midnight oil, hoping to assimilate the skills which enable business executives to glean their impressive insights from such corporate accounts. What has happened is that the already overburdened superior has taken on what is actually the core role of the treasurer. He is attempting to interpret to himself what the business world is saying, and the results are not always happy. The major superior has no time, really, to handle this added, and usually unwelcome chore. Neither does the training nor the personality traits which qualify a good religious superior easily blend well with the demands of business administration. Fur-ther, the superior is there~by subtly insulated from one key source of counsel, and this in an ominous way, since the change is scarcely noticed. Another common reaction of sophisticated reporting to .an unsophisti-cated audience is one of bland beffiddlement. An increasing percentage of council and community simply announce that they have no time for that sort of thing. They are sure that"such i~pressive figures must mean something, and "it is so comforting to realize that we can depend on such a skilled and dedicated treasurer." This remedy: so called, operates in the reverse of the one before. Now it is the treasurer who is isolated from needed feedback and in-telligent questioning, and the treasurer slowly begins to make decisions (or, more commonly, subconsciously to set things up so that only one decision can be made) which should have involved the superior's informed judgment from the start. The misunderstandings and confusions which result, and which so often are blamed on instincts for power or on exaggerated professionalism, are at root only the natural concomitants of poor role-definition. The above examples are painted in bold strokes. In practice any trained treasurer makes a more or less intelligent effort to translate the economic trends revealed by the analysis of the community books and by a general familiarity with the business cycle (changes of interest rates, increasing cost of government, red tape, inflation), and in those cases where this function is handled with skill and sensitivity, there is no doubt that the treasurer's office is being well served by its present incumbent. However, the main point is precisely that a function so delicate and so important should not be performed in a fit of absentmindedness. Few realize that there is the exact point where unreflective instincts, presenting a hastily conceived adaptation of the secular counterpart found in stockholders reports, as unverified assumption that "they" got the message, in short, amateurism, can effectively negate the benefits arising from professional accounting, skilled business analysis, and all the rest. The Treasurer as Professional / 23 Title and Function It should be apparent that one of our problems stems from the very title "treasurer," with its built-in connotation of "bookkeeper." Things are slightly better in more ancient Orders where the person filling this liaison role is called by some more generic title such as "procurator," but the basic prob-lem of role-definition usually remains unexamined. It is entirely possible that the "core function" we have been elaborating could be performed by someone other than the titular treasurer. Indeed, one of the problems is precisely that such is often the case, that, for lack of reflec-tion on the situation, this crucial liaison function is poorly performed by per-sons who scarcely realize they are even involved in such a role. Take, for example, these instances where some dedicated lay person now holds the office of provincial treasurer. There can be no question of these indi-viduals' technical skills, but, on the other hand, there can be little chance that they could ever deal with the community on the deep level of two-way com-munication that is needed to perform this liaison function. Yet someone must be performing that function--however imperfectly--or else the community would be left on the legendary "Cloud 9," a not unknown circumstance, sad to relate. Whoever that "someone" is, he or she is the de facto treasurer, while the holder of the titular office doubtless remains, skilled in his other profes-sion which is valid in itself but different in scope. Still, the very essence of the liaison function does d~mand an alert, in-formed, and up-to-date acquaintance with modern business and government trends. It is doubtful that any community officer except the treasurer would have the time, or even the inclination, to remain permanently qualified for the role. So if the titular treasurer is not the one functioning in the liaison role, our foregone conclusion is that sooner or later the function will be indifferently served. The essential connection between membership in the religious community and the liaison function is illumined more by practice than theory. At the risk of running one example to death we return to the quarterly accounting report. If the treasurer saw liaison as his or her primary function, the first question would still be "where can I hire a skilled .accounting technician to generate thoroughly reliable and professional figures?" Even the second question might be equally unsurprising: "Have I assured myself that I have the technical expertise to evaluate, accurately and professionally, the implications of the figures so presented?" (Already the field has broadened: the evaluation would, of necessity, include factors not strictly within the purview of an ac-countant.) It is the next step which becomes more demanding. "Exactly who are the real power-people and opinion-molders in the congregation, ~:egardless of title? And which items in this mass of data are the ones they need in order to make the decisions pertinent to th'eir role?" And, "Considering the individual personality, background training, and press of duties experienced by each such individual, what is the most effective way to present this data to him or 94 / Review for Religious, I/olume 40, 1981/1 her?" (These questions can lead to the elaboration of some very unorthodox but extremely effective financial reports!) /. It is a rare treasurer who sees the answer to the last two questions as so cen-tral as to demand more skill, more time, more thought and, if available, more training than the elaboration of the figures themselves. It is a rare community which would not be enriched and facilitated if the treasurer did just that. But it also seems next to impossible that any outsider, no matter how sagacious or trusted, could really have the indispensable in-depth understanding of the per-sonality limitations, the real power distribution (as distinguished from a table of organization), and the sundry lapses in hearing skills which form the living matrix of intramural communications. Perhaps fortunately, the liaison function is not usually looked upon as at-tached to the highest echelons of power. Yet, it is all too easy for casual observers, who already have the treasurer pigeonholed in a relatively trivial technician's role, to see any such outreach into the one indispensable function as an intrusion on the role of the superior. Such a reaction, though, is more concerned with shadow than substance: the very essence of the liaison function is to assist, not supplant, the superior in making informed decisions, and to assist, not supplant, the community in understanding the options open to them. Areas of Practical Concern The many excellent circulars on taxes, social security and related subjects coming from the offices of CMSM and LCWR provide opportunity for a quick, but necessarily very rough, check-up. These documents certainly sug-gest impending changes in life-style, deteriorating legal immunities, new norms of economic security and other important long-term adjustments of our community lives. Are these coming changes being considered in advance in every community? Do the CMSM circulars filter down at all? If not, perhaps the liaison function could improve to fill the void. Before noting more current problems, a somewhat dated example might provide historical insight. Between Leo XIII and circa 1970 there was a grow-ing rift between the papal social encyclicals and the employment policies of certain Catholic institutions. Areas of tension have run all the way from the areas of unionization through wages, pensions, and fringe benefits, to on-the-job working conditions. The business world of the United States had somehow tended to come more into line with the encyclicals than religious! Fortunately, this is largely water under the bridge; the majority of Catholic religious orders have recently shown an informed awareness of the problems of Christian employment, even in cases where lack of funds has made it very difficult to know how to respond. But it did take a long time, in some cases a scandalously long time. And the evident surprise which has overtaken more than one provincial administration when the "dear, dedicated lay-teachers" or the "sweet smiling nurses" hit the picket lines, would argue some degree of The Treasurer as Professional / 25 failure in their early-warning system. It is hard to imagine that the fumbling, uncertain--sometimes obscurant-ist- labor relations poli~ie~ ~l:iich charaCteriZed churchly institutions before 1970 would not have been improved if there had been in each congregation one person who was consciously aware of his or her duty to become fully in-formed concerning these trends, and to communicate them to a congregation which was itself aware of having appointed him to such a post-- and respected his function. In short, if each community had possessed a treasurer who was expected to perform the core-function of that office, and trained t.o do it, and if each such treasurer had been left enough time from routine mechanical ac-counting chores to function thus, the whole tale would have been quite dif-ferent. In the absence of that function filled, too often surprise and misinfor-mation proved a poor substitute for expertise at the bargaining table, and in the delicate reestablishment of truly Christian relationships afterward. Even though the labor relations example can be classified as historical in most communities (not all!), it still cannot be written off. For example, the presence of Douglas Frazier of the United Auto Workers on the Chrysler Cor-poration Board of Directors is no doubt just the tip of a large iceberg. Already in Europe workers' representatives on the top levels of management are a commonplace. Is anyone looking up from the accounting books long enough to start formulating a response, or thinking out alternatives, or evaluating present practices, or otherwise preparing for the day when the staff at Hospital A and High School B will be demanding board representation-- per-haps on the management level of the parent religious community itself? Insurance programs reveal another type of need. Too often "profes-sionalism" in the treasurer has been equivalated to the qualification requisite in some other profession simply because no one has noted that the liaison function is a separate profession in itself. We have already noted how this tends, in the accounting function, simply to distance the treasurer from the needs of the community superiors who are not businessmen and therefore can-not be reasonably expected to get maximum benefit from financial anal~,sis designed for business executives. In the related questions of insurance coverage, the problem takes a slightly different twist, although profes-sionalism (again the wrong profession!) here also ends up searching for the solutions that are most effective in the business world. In practice, we end by asking "How can we most expeditiously fit our community into insurance programs written for secular concerns?" The results are often ingenious and admirable examples of the professionalism of the insurance industry. But if someone in the communitY were professionally alert to the peculiar nature of a religious organization as such, he might well end up asking, "What are tl~e unique needs of this community, regardless of what fits the secular organization?" The answer may be quite surprising, and almost always results in unexpected savings and administrative simplification. Fortunately, the question is being asked more and more, and, as a result, some 26 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 specialized insurance policies are being written from the ground up to fit the unique needs of Catholic religious orders. But it should have happened sooner, and the questions should have been asked in many more quarters. Even today too many religious are paying insurance premiums for maternity benefits! The center-stage projects of the hour are probably energy conservation and socio-political activism via proxy voting and the like. Both problem areas carry implications of long-term and profound changes in community life-style. Both, too, are typical in their relations to the treasurer as professional. The current pattern of response is often enough characterized by aimless drift, unplanned, sporadic action, or responses evidently dominated by oen-thusiasts in the community who may or may not have a grasp of the long-run legal and economic implications. Since these areas do have overtones which are none of the treasurer's pro-fessional concern (although hopefully he or she will be deeply concerned as a committed Christian and religious), it follows that the treasurer should not be trying to direct the basic policy decisions in these affairs. But the complexity and multiple legal interlockings involved also suggest that someone--some one-- in each community has to be in a position to study the question from an overall point of view, and to do so with a trained expertise. Some individual must eventually take responsibility for gathering all available information and casting it ina form that alerts both officers and community to the implications for life-style, future economic security, hazards to legal immunities, and all the rest. Further, whereas ad hoc studies can be commendable, some one has gotto stick to the job and follow through, lest the community of 1985 be still acting on the circumstances of 1975. Both by a process of elimination and by logic, this important and irreplaceable function sooner or later (probably sooner) comes home to roost in the treasurer's office, If the incumbent is viewed as a mere technician who handles the computer printout, the community response will, in all probabil-ity," follow the too familiar pattern of muddling through very deep muddles. The rapid erosion of those tax exemptions which form.the practical economic basis of most religious communities provides another field of con-cern for the treasurer as professional liaison officer. Few communities have ever even done any daydreaming, much less planning, about the impact of various all,too-probable changes in the. tax laws. The tendency is to cling mutely and hopefully to the leaky ship. Thisis a wise procedure so faras day-to- day operations are concerned. But some one somewhere in the community should be monitoring, injecting caution into long-range plans, alerting superiors and community to the dangerous side effects of this or that policy, and noting, at least in passing, such unexamined drifts as the slow tendency of both tax courts and local officials to forget the tacit but once universal assumption that religious communities are families (for example: the recent The Treasurer as Professional / 27 tendency to raise zoning problems about sisters living together in a convent situated in a zone for single families; the erosion of the rights of superiors to make decisions for dying, unconscious, or elderly confused members of the community; difficulties with state officials who insist on nursing-home regulations instead of family rules for convents caring for a few elderly sisters, and so on. It is all of a pattern: we are being redefined as "strangers" -- and no one seems to notice). Unfortunately, the personality who gets maximum satisfaction out of the tidy details of bookkeeping is only rarely the same as the one who can perceive social or economic change from afar off. The rare exceptions are indeed pearls of great price. But the core-function is impossible, even for the pearls, if the only training they receive and the only role expectation they encounter are directed exclusively toward the routine of day-to-day administration. Conclusion In the twelfth chapter of Romans, St. Paul surprisingly lists "administra-tion" among the gifts of the Spirit. Indeed, he lists it just after prophecy and before teaching, preaching and almsgiving. It would be ridiculous to apply his thought literally to any specific church functionary, treasurers included--no doubt he had wider nets to spread. But Paul does thereby warn us not to trivialize the administrative functions in the Church into routine mechanics and technological computer-feeding. Faith, judgment, and spiritual insight are necessary, and the community which restricts its gifts of time, training, and trust to major superiors, novice masters, and theology faculties may be quenching the Spirit in a vital area of action. Reflection on the real core-function of the treasurer may lead in most cases not only to a deeper appreciation, of that office, but t9 some understanding of the damnable frustrations connected thereto. Hopefully such reflection could also lead to a major review of the qualifications for the office, along with adjustments in the organizational and psychological matrix which is required for its effective fulfillment. Admittedly there is no place where anyone can go for training in this most delicate function (the author is hatching a plot in this regard!), but probably such training is little needed at least at first. The first Step is to identify who, if anyone, performs the liaison function in the community and then to recognize that function as needed, legitimate, and welcome. Much else will follow naturally. The Eucharist, Priesthood, and Renewal Neil J. Draves-A rpaia Father Draves-Arpaia is a priest attached to Our Lady of Perpetual Help parish. The mailing address is: P.O. Box 160; Scottsdale, AZ 85252. Priesthood is not intrinsically linked to celebration. It is first, and ultimate-ly, united with self-giving, and therefore, sacrifice. And since the sacrifice of-fered by Christians at Eucharist is the victory of Christ which has brought us salvation, it is impossible, once we have grasped the depth of meaning and the redemptive grace of the eucharistic sacrifice, to be any other way than "celebrative." Those who would reduce the Mass to sober ritual, executed with rubrical precision and stone-faced devotion, or those who would see it as a moment for "religious merriment" have moved awfiy, in either direction, from the core mystery that the eucharistic celebration is. For me, the amuse-ment of one group and the solemn piety of the other are both suspect, and neither adequately speak or witness to priesthood to being a priestlypeople. What then might we look for? 1 believe it is necessary to move away from speaking on the Mass for a moment and concentrate on the daily life of God's people. Self-giving, self-forgetting love, sacrifice (whichever term we use) once placed within Christianity must be evaluated in light of the Cross. The eucharistic sacrifice then has "cruciform" implications, and we must look to a cross section of responses and attitudes that come forth from God's people in Christ. Priesthood is a visible sign in our midst of the reality of sacrifice, specifically in the life of a person who is priest, and in the believing communi-ty that would be priestly. Both must express in clear terms and behavior that something two-fold is happening in their lives: that, first, their personal rela-tionship with God is solid and radically oriented towards incarnating the first 28 The Eucharist, Priesthood, and Renewal and greatest commandment, and, then, that their human relationships are more than superficial and nice, but solid, radically oriented towards incar-nating the second and greatest commandment. How might we begin to make evaluation of these? I'm convinced that the priesthood of the faithful and the ministerial priesthood must look to the life of prayer, be it expressed in formal, informal, public or private prayer-styles. There we must begin to ask if, when we go before the Lord, we are truly inter-ceding on behalf of one another. This will give us an indication of how much and to what degree we are in touch with human life and the genuine human needs of those around us. If we cannot bring ourselves to intercede, then we cannot fulfill our principle role as priests or as a priestly people. This is especially significant to the role of the priest-president at the eucharistic sacrifice, for without a continuous sense of intercession in the daily life of the priest, the eucharistic prayer will be formula-oriented and not at all like the priestly prayer of Jesus, who went to the Father on behalf of the people. Next, we must look, priests particularly, to our horizontal prayer: our beseeching and inviting the people to come forward as instruments and missionaries of love. It might not always mean using words, nor may it require lengthy "shar-ing sessions." Priestly people and ordained priests need to know more about the fact that in any "priestly" experience, the action must speak louder than the words. The religious leaders of Jesus' day, from the picture we get from the Scriptures, had words that spoke more loudly than their actions. Jesus called his disciples to the converse: action over words, both in G~d-oriented matters (faith) and people-oriented matters (charity). It's also important to keep in mind that Jesus had the least to say when he was crucified. It was at that moment alone that his Gospel call to love hung totally on pure act. What can we conclude with regard to priesthood and its place within pres-ent renewal and the Eucharist? Liturgical renewal cannot have the impact it is meant to have if it is not preempted by a priesthood that speaks clearly on the issue of "self-giving." For the decade and a half since the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy was issued by the Council, the Church has heard stressed that "the liturgy is the summit toward which the activity of the Church is directed," and that the faithful should approach the sacred mysteries with the proper dispositions so as to cooperate with grace, for the liturgy to produce its full effect. If the Eucharist is the summit, what is the base of Christian activi-ty, if it is not self-giving? And what is the proper disposition with which we ap-proach the eucharistic celebration, if it is not a readiness and willingness to be of praise and thanksgiving, openness and intercession, primarily in attitude, secondarily in words? Priesthood, both ministerial and the priesthood of the faithful (but prin-cipally the ordained priesthood)in itself must begin to look more like the eucharistic sacrifice to the Father with the people of God assembled. It must show itself "in the flesh" to be a continuum between brokenness and wholeness, of movement from the confines of secular humanism and/or 30 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 religious elitism (clericalism, fundamentally among priests themselves and the structures in which they function) to a sharedness, not solely in matters of, priestly service to the Church, but in the basic issues of their lives, issues which are common to all lives. Priesthood, as an instrument of renewal and in its ef-fect upon the Eucharist, becomes an incarnational experience, for it takes the Word and makes it a Verbum Dei: fleshes it, clothes it, directs it towards the kingdom. The moment becomes a means for priesthood to have within it a holiness that is greater than that of the scribes and pharisees since it acts on rather than talks about the concrete issues which face the world today. So, at the base of Christian existence the priesthood is motivation for the Lord's people to join in sacrifice both at the table of the Lord and at the table which is the world. The nature of this life of self-giving requires unconditionally simple signs which speak to the people, like the signs of bread and wine. But signs of love in the daily life of the priest become obscured when humanness is over-taken by a rank-ism in the Church which, in turn, degenerates priesthood into a separate class aloof from the laity and ineffective in speaking about their life experience except in the most "lofty" sort of ways. As the liturgical renewal called for a stripping of secoridary elements which found their way into the eucharistic celebration over the centuries, the priesthood, too, if it is to be an aid in the deep renewal of the Church, must have itself stripped of non-essentials. Like the eucharistic sacrifice of the Roman Rite; priesthood must begin to face the people and become more accountable to them. It must have its distracti'ng bells quieted. Priests, one would hope, can more effectively speak the language of the people and must appreciate how much priesthood's unique gifts come from the people and must return to them. It must witness a praise of life by the priest's readiness to help the human condition in each per-son's struggle to become reconciled to God. Priesthood, to me, expresses its thanksgiving best when priests themselves show a humbleness (which active thanks implies) before God and people, plus an openness which allows for the person of the priest to be nurtured by the community he is calling into fullness. This call to intercession is a vehicle, not for doing some thing for others, but as a preparation, a prayer, to be with them. To pray on behalf of others re-quires that the priest be half of the person who is neighbor. This would mean that we move beyond any limited and debilitating spirituality which might suggest that God hears the prayers of priest over those of the laity. The truly intercessory prayer that is Christian is the one which seeks from God a "oneness" with the p,eople to whom the priest is sent, as did the prayer of Jesus, "that all may be one as you, Father, are in me, and I in you; I pray that they may be one in us." Intercessory prayer speaks of sacrifice, for it moves away from the tendency to badger God for things for ourselves and others, and, when made by a priest, requests that he, here and now, will become the response the Lord would make to those in need. It is occasion for furthering solidarity in the Body of Christ (person to person) and for furthering solidar-ity in the Body of Christ (person to person) and for allowing the Holy Spirit to The Eucharist, Priesthood, and Renewal use priesthood as sacrament (God to his people). When intercession is made by a priestly, people, they pray to be the response the Lord would make to the world's needs, and the Church then can be a "kind of sacrament of union and unity." In this way, personal needs, while neither denied nor overlooked, become secondary for the moment, and the needs of others become primary for the moment. Intercessory prayer does not give us the chance to be self-seeking, or to approach God with the long multiplication of words that would make prayer manipulative and evasive. It helps us to understand more precise-ly why Jesus r~jects this as authentic prayer and replaces it with a simple prayer of unity that begins, "Our Father in heaven." The prayer of the priest (or of a priestly people) allows for lives to blend, and there will be less cause for disparity in the p.riest's daily life and his ministry at Mass, for this sacrificial celebration at the "summit of the Church's activity" will be an authentic summation of what has been. Priesthood has everything to do with self-giving, and as it forces its way out of entrapments it becomes an event, an encounter with what is real. The same applies to the entire people of God in Christ. Events, or moments of self-giving, are times of celebration and joy for they are an exodus from slavery, from the death of isolation and self~centeredness. It is on this issue where renewal is most needed: moving people away from thinking in terms of what they "do" to how they position themselves towards God and neighbor, the way they choose to be. The vocation of priest and of the priestly people leaps away, so to speak, from cultic functions and attendance at such, to a covenant in the eucharistic sacrifice, because there have already been preliminary celebrations ofthis mutual, self-forgetting love among Christians wherever they meet between the times they gather at table in the grace and peace of God, our Father a'nd the Lord Jesus. Catherine of Siena and Raymond of Capua: A Friendship in Perspective Paul Conner, O.P. Father Conner teaches moral and spiritual theology at the Dominican School of Philosophy and Theology of the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley. His address is: St. Albert's Priory; 5890 Birch Court; Oakland, CA 94618. Catherine Benincasa's public life is more widely known than her personal life: during the six hundred years since her death, attention has been so drawn to her astonishing political impact on the Europe of her day that she is fre-quently called one of the most influential women of history. Within our own decade Catherine's enduring intellectual and spiritual authority has been heightened through her being declared one of the two women doctors of the Church. Little wonder, then, that the private life of this Sienese woman has escaped widespread notice, and yet in regard to human friendships, for instance, few life histories are as intriguing, both in scope and depth of development. I would like to focus attention in this article on the dominant human rela-tionship of her short life of 33 years, her friendship with Blessed Raymond of Capua. This relationship could be understood adequately on its own merits, but I find that it takes shape so much better within the immediate religious setting of Dominican life in which it was born and flourished. Looking to the Lord Jesus is indeed first; but after this, every religious family that seeks the essential features of its life must turn to its founder. Tempting as it might be, I do not claim that friendship is an essential feature of Dominican life, at least as friendship is ordinarily understood--though there are superb examples of it in the Dominican heritage, past and present. What is interesting though, is that Dominic did give the spirit of friendship to 32 Catherine of Siena and Raymond of Capua / 33 his followers, since his own life was so rich, even overflowing, in friendship, human and divine. A glance, then, at his life, together with what might be termed a theological consideration of Dominican friendship, will form a helpful con-text within which to view Catherine's and Raymond's unique friendship. St. Dominic In spite of popular misrepresentation of St. Dominic in later centuries as a stern, inquisitorial figure, conclusive, historical evidence shows him to be an exceptionally loving person. More than three hundred depositions for his canonization; his first biography written by his friend and successor, Jordan of Saxony; the Lives of the Brethren, collecting eyewitness accounts of the early years from all over the order, all tell of the many men and women in various walks of life who cherished friendships with him. Jordan speaks of Dominic's lifelong, radiant mixture of charm and reserve that attracted and held men's hearts. His best modern biographer in English, Bede Jarrett, puts it this way: "God's greatest gift to man in the order of nature, and almost the greatest even on the supernatural plane, is the gift of making and securing friends; and judged by this, Dominic was indeed blessed by God.'" The first brethren assure us that perhaps no one among them had a greater taste for fraternity than Dominic. He enjoyed friendships of varying degrees with his followers, and, like his Lord, chose from among them a "beloved disciple," John of Navarre. With the many communities of sisters that he founded, Dominic always maintained a personal bond, helping them in temporal but particularly spiritual needs, instructing them so that they absorbed his own spirit and dedication to truth. Besides 16aving us a descriptive portrait of Dominic, Blessed Cecilia kept a valuable record of his Roman ministry. She relates that during his visits to the sisters he either "exhorted them to greater spiritual ef-fort or merely sat among them, refreshing them with the charm of his conver-sation and sharing with them the experiences of the day.''2 The range of Dominic's friends outside the order was extensive. Legendary is his beautiful relationship with St. Francis. TheLives of the Brethren records that the two "became but one heart and one soul in God and enjoined their sons to foster this brotherly spirit until the end of time." Dominic befriended men and women converts; family members of people with whom he worked, such as the two daughters of Count Simon de Montfort; women recluses in Rome; bishops and cardinals--even popes. Gregory IX, in the bull of Dominic's canonization dated 1234, wrote that Domin'ic was ' Bede Jarrett, O.P., Life of St. Dominic (New York: Image Books, 1964), p. 122. 2 See M. H. Vicaire, O.P., Histoire de saint Dominique (Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1957), V. 11, pp. 278-279. 34 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 bound to us by ties of deep friendship, before we were raised to the pontificate; his life carried with it in our eyes certain proofs of heroic holiness . We are convinced, as also are our people, that through his prayers God may do us mercy, and that one who was our friend on earth will still in heaven hold us in no less ~ffection. Wherefore. we have determined to add his name to the number of the saints.~ The prominence of friendship in Dominic's life noticeably influenced his early followers. Numerous touching friendships among them are a matter of historical record: Jordan of Saxony and Henry of Cologne, Jordan and Diana d'Andalo, Albert the Great and Thomas Aquinas, and the two Dominicans of particular interest to this article, Catherine of Siena and Raymond of Capua. Theological Atmosphere A certain theological atmosphere has surrounded and, I would say, condi-tioned the development of Dominican friendships throughout the history of the order. This is as it should be, since Dominican life, like Christian life, tends toward fullness of love--primarily with the I ndwelling Divine Persons, but secondarily with all men and women whom God loves. This Christian love, or charity, is the main indicator of vitality and growth in the life of grace. Thomas Aquinas was the first theologian to penetrate into the mystery of charity by way of human experience of authentic friendship, applying his understanding to God's love for us and our love for him.4 A distinctodynamic seems to have resulted, creating the theological atmos-phere to which I refer. Dominicans have looked first to faith for conviction about divine love and friendship with God and God's friends. They have then looked to their personal experience of human friendship with God. They have found, particularly in prayer, that their experience 6f divine friendship served as corrective, if need be, and certainly as goal for their human friendships. These two experiences, the human and divine, mutually illumined and en-riched the other, each according to its competency. I would hazard a guess that a practical result of this theological atmos-phere has been that individual Dominicans were richer or poorer in friend-ships with other Dominicans depending on the age in which they lived. Let me explain. In all ages genuine Dominicans are very discriminating about their friends, owing largely, I think, to this conditioning theological atmosphere. They tend not to let natural instincts for friendship predominate, unless each particular relationship can be harmonized with divine friendship. Authentic charity as their chosen goal must determine everything in their lives. Besides rarely find-ing people enough to their natural liking in the baffling assemblage the Lord calls together in religious communities, their faith and theological orientation ~ See M. H. Vicaire, O.P., Saint Dominique, La vie apostolique Paris: Editions du Cerf, 1965), p~ 90. ¯ See St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, lI-ll, q. 23, a. I. Catherine of Siena and Raymond of Capua / 35 yield such a high ideal that natural potential alone is not enough to satisfy them. But in ages when many members of a Dominican community or province or the worldwide order are deeply one in mind and heart about essential goals and ways of Dominican life, friendships abound, even without much founda-tion in natural similarities. Close bonds are formed on the basis of similarity of thought, love for and dedication to the highest, most valuable, and most permanent of realities. On the other hand, history indicates that Dominican friendships are rare in times of wide diversity in mind, heart, and life concerning essentials of a com-mon calling. In these circumstances, with little in common by nature or by grace, profound friendships are the exception. Masculine-Feminine Complementarity in the Order of Preachers Before focusing on the profound relationship between Catherine and Raymond of Capua, let us look at an additional feature which Dominic built into the very structure of his order, namely masculine-feminine complemen-tarity. In Dominic's mind, the men and women of the order were each to con-tribute something essential to the order's goal of contemplating and spreading sacred Truth. His plan was that the nuns should pray and do penance, and the friars should preach. With this complementary power, no obstacle could pre-vent the accomplishment of goals. To assure from the beginning this complementary feature of the order, Dominic established at Prouille (southern France), in 1207, an arrangement he had known from his years as a canon regular in Spain: the "double-monastery" where friars and nuns lived side by side, each in separate convents yet joined in one common life. Later, wherever he had men, Dominic himself established the feminine counterpart: in Madrid in 1217; in Segovia, Saragossa, and Palencia in 1218; in Rome in 1221. He intended the same in Bologna with Diana d'Andalo and a group of her friends, but died before doing so. This planned masculine-feminine complementarity was emphasized throughout the order by the custom of calling the friars "Preachers" and the nuns "Sisters, Preachers, or Preacheresses.' '~ Saint Catherine, Doctor of Friendship Our context is now sufficient for turning to Catherine and Raymond, two Dominicans who personified in their friendship the masculine-feminine com-plementarity of their order. In her writings, Catherine was such a preacheress that, as noted above, she has been declared a Doctor of the Universal Church. Happily enough, she has See Paul M. Conner, O.P., Celibate Love (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Press, 1979), pp. 54-56. ~16 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 left explicit teaching on human friendship, particularly :in Chapters 41-44 of her famous Dialogue. Briefly, she sees positive temporal and eternal benefits as well as distinct dangers. An enduring benefit is that we do not lose human friendships at death. Rooted in happiness in God, the saints in heaven also share one another's hap-piness and so color their own beatific joy with "more abundant., delight and contentment." Catherine looks at friendship on earth as "consolation, sweetness, com-fort, and joy." Friends here help one another "grow in grace and virtue," and they provoke each other to honor and glorify the heavenly Father. A serious danger arises from human friendship which begins primarily as spiritual love but slowly becomes predominately sensual. To bring con-secrated persons to this end, Satan will insidiously engender a distaste for religious life, inducing them to search for pleasurable compensations in friendships. Prayer is judged in terms of self-satisfaction and is eventually dropped. "Worldly conversations" become more and more appealing and help stifle former desires for prayer, purity of spirit, suffering for God, and fraternal charity. Why does God permit this outcome? It is because he desires to purify the person from his unrecognized imperfection of loving creatures with a love mainly "passionate" or "sensible." After a friendship becomes established, the person might observe, for example, that his friend pays more attention to others than to him. He experiences disappointment and suffering. There are, then, two possible outcomes. His suffering can bring the deepened awareness that he has been seeking self in a love he thought wholly generous--the Father's hoped-for outcome. This insight will give birth to healthy "distrust of self" and to a more perfect love, charity, for all persons, including his par-ticular friend. This happy result, Catherine asserts, can occur only i.n someone "enlightened by faith," who desires "to walk in the virtues.especially prudence and discernment." A person, however, who is "ignorant in the faith" and not striving to walk in virtue, a person who "has no life," as Catherine puts it, will find the experi-ence of diminishing sensible satisfaction in prayer a great danger. He may well follow Satan's lead and give himself up to "confusion, tedium of mind and sadness of heart, abandoning any virtuous exercises." To such a person, friendship will eventually mean ruin and inner "death." Despite her medieval view and expression of things, Catherine's general teaching on spiritual friendship stands clear: it is good if the result is authentic charity, not self-love. Catherine lived her teaching, filling her short life with an amazing range of men and women friends. One among them was unique. Catherine and Raymond Born of the noble Delle Vigne family of Capua in 1330, Raymond entered Catherine of Siena and Raymond of Capua / ~17 the Dominican Order at age seventeen. During studies at .Bologna he excelled in scripture and patrology before obtaining the lectorate degree in sacred theology. He taught in Dominican priory schools between 1358 and 1362, and for the next four years served as spiritual director to the nuns of his order at the monastery of Montepulciano. In 1367, he was elected prior of Santa Maria sopra Minerva, a principal Dominican community of men in Rome. Raymond was sent to Siena some six years later to be Regent of Studies for the young men of the order in training there. And so it was that this man of extensive education and experience came to meet Catherine in 1374, the consequence of both her praying for a confessor capable of guiding her in her evolving mystical experience, and of the order's appointment of Raymond tO investi-gate and direct her life. Catherine promised Raymond obedience, and after some time of testing her authenticity, he came quickly to understand her and her spirituality. From the beginning they admired each other, Raymond recognizing in Catherine a woman of fine intellect, intense striving for sanctity, and tireless apostolate; Catherine in Raymond, a man of intelligence, tact, breadth of understanding, and development in virtue. Upon this basis their friendship grew firm and profound. Frank admission~ in their writings and biographical events reveal that they came to know each other intimately. Catherine opened her whole soul to Raymond, who by his counsel and authority over her, helped her come to full self-knowledge. In four short years their relationship had become very important to both of them. When the pope called Raymond to Rome in 1377 to be prior again of the convent of the Minerva, Catherine's letters speak of her "torment" and the "particularly hard and painful" experience this first separation from her "intimate friend" occasioned. She asked the Lord, who had "imposed upon me a royal and very poignant trial., to strengthen me in this privation which language is so incapable of expressing.''6 Understandably, news from Raymond alwaysbrought her joy. Later correspondence gives further indications of the quality of their love. Once, when Raymond had turned back from a papal mission to Avignon because of impending ambush, Catherine affectionately reproached him. He misread her intention, and so she wrote: "You have thought that my affection for you had diminished; but you are mistaken . l love you as I love myself; and I have hoped that the goodness of God would also make your affection perfect.-7 In her numerous letters, Catherine customarily addressed Raymond as her ~ See Letter 119 quoted in Johannes Joergensen, Sainte Catherine de Sienne (Paris: Editions Gabriel Beauchesne, 1929), p. 187. 7 Josephine Butler, Catherine of Siena (London: Horace Marshall & Son: 1894), pp. 289-290. 38 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 "beloved Father," or "friend of predilection," or by the pseudonym that so pleased her, il mio Giovanni singolare--presumably in comparison to the Lord's preferential friendship for St. John. During the last months of her life, in extreme weakness and suffering, Catherine wrote a long report of her mystical experience to Raymond,. ad-dressing him lovingly over and over again: "My most sweet Father." In Letter 232 she tells him of a vision wherein she saw .herself entering by love and desire into Christ through the wound in his side, "accompanied by my Father St. Dominic; Giovanni, my friend of predilection; and all my spiritual children." It had been revealed to Catherine that the pope would send Raymond to King Charles of France and that she would die before his return. Raymond relates that she took him into privacy and "talked continuously, her large eyes shining., saying such strong and beautiful words." Often she "grasped his hand and smiled beautifully." Then, accompanying Raymond to the port of Ostia, she "knelt,., and crying, made the sign of the cross.''8 In their few years together, Raymond and Catherine collaborated in many undertakings, helping each other both naturally and supernaturally. Raymond, for example, was cured through Catherine's prayer from the plague which decimated Siena in 1374. He then joined her in relief work among the city's victims. Afterwards they went together in retreat to the tomb of St. Agnes of Montepulciano. Later in Pisa, Raymond was with Catherine in the Church of St. Christina when she received the stigmata. She prayed that the wounds be made invisible, and so it was that Raymond was the only person to bear public witness to the miracle. In 1376, the two met in Avignon in a successful attempt to persuade Pope Gregory XI to return to Rome. They traveled back to the Eternal City together, spending some time there with each other before Raymond's final departure. During their political actiQity, Catherine and Raymond turned to each other for support. She admired his political wisdom, most often following his advice which opened up new dimensions and possibilities to her. Together they promoted the crusades and prayed and worked for the reform of the Church. To counter a fear and reluctance in his character, Catherine would urge Raymond, when events demanded, to act bravely and with courage. In-deed, they cooperated in every way, so much so that one biographer con-cludes: "Catherine and Fra Raimondo were both working for the same ends, and aided each other with a mutual exchange of ideas, energies and counsels.''9 In the realm of grace, Raymond received instruction from Catherine for his spiritual progress. She was ever mindful of him in prayer, and even after See Hyacinth M. Cormier, O.P., Blessed Raymond of Capua (Boston: Marlier, Callahan & Co., 1900), p. 58. Arigo Levasti, My Servant Catherine (London: Blackfriars Publications, 1954), p. 140. Catherine of Siena and Raymond of Capua / 39 her death, Raymond testified that his spiritual stamina came from his con-tinued communications with Catherine in spirit. Before their final parting, Catherine wrote to Raymond: "1 beseech you to collect into your own hands any writings of mine which you may find and the book (the Dialogue); do with all of them whatever you deem is most for God's honor and glory.'''° Even in his overbusy life as Master General, Raymond worked successfully to promote Catherine's canonization, gathered and preserved all her writings, and found time to compose her first biography, a task that took him fifteen years. Dealing principally with her personal rather than public life and bringing to light the most touching incidents and her most characteristic traits, Raymond's is a surprisingly objective account. From it all later biographers have drawn their material. Conclusion Without doubt, in their close knowledge and love of one another and in the cooperative ministry they exercised, Blessed Raymond of Capua and St. Catherine of Siena exemplify the masculine-feminine complementarity of the Dominican Order. Their friendship helped each of them, as well, toward sanctity. We began by saying that Catherine's personal life could be better understood within its Dominican context. It has also become clear that through her own personification of the spirit of St. Dominic and of the charism he gave to the order, the latter itself stands better revealed. Friendship between Dominicans may not be an essential feature of Dominican life, but throughout the last seven hundred and fifty years, few friendships recorded by history surpass those between Dominicans. The order is fertile soil for close ties between persons fired by its goals and fully given to its ways. Could one not even say that the more Dominicans are Dominican, the greater the likelihood, today as in past centuries, of Dominican friend-ships? Letter 102 cited in Cormier, op. cit., p. 134. Service of the Heart: The Quest for Authentic Prayer in Judaism Michael Maher, M.S.C. Father Maher teaches Scripture at the Mater Dei Institute of Religious Education in Dublin. His last article appearin.g in these pages was "Old Testament Poetry and Religious Experience Today" (March, 1979). Father Maher's address is Woodview; Mount Merrion Ave.; Blackrock, Co. Dublin; Ireland. Everyone who has made an effort to develop a meaning,ful prayer-life knows how easy it is to allow regular prayer to become a mechanical ritual rather than a vital and elevating experience. But the danger of allowing prayer and worship to become a perfunctory recitation of hallowed formulae or a conventional performance of traditional rituals is not special to our age. The problem seems to be permanently contemporary, and Jewish religious tradi-tion seems to have been continually on guard against it. Ever since Isaiah sternly chided his co-religionists who honored the Lord with their lips while their hearts were far away (see Is 29:13), the leaders of Israel continued the prophet's task of safeguarding the truly spiritual and per-sonal character of the people's devotional life, and of ensuring that the indi-vidual's prayer should always be animated by a living faith, should always be the expression of sincere love, and should always involve deep feelings and devotion. The rabbis, and their successors right down to our times, used the word kavvanah to express the attitude of interior devotion and personal involvement that should accompany every prayer and every religious observ-ance of the devout Jew. Directing the Mind The word kavvanah which became part and parcel of Jewish devotional 40 Service of Heart / 41 literature is derived from a verb meaning to direct, and implies directing the mind to God, concentrating the attention on the prayers being recited, saying them in a spirit of devotion, and excluding thoughts and feelings that distract one from the experience of encountering God. When one prays with kavvanah one's heart and lips agree, and one's whole person is involved in the awesome act of appearing before one's Creator and Lord. This is what the Talmud' means when it says that "when a man prays he should direct his heart to heaven" (Berakoth 31 a). Another Talmud text declares that if a man does not put his mind to the performance of a religious duty his act is not a religious act at all (Rosh ha-Shanah 28b). These same ideas find another formulation in Pirke Aboth or the Sayings of the Fathers, a compendium of maxims that have been popular among all Jews since the early Christian centuries. Here the sage's warning runs as follows: "When you pray do not make your prayer mere routine, but a plea before God for mercy and grace" (PirkeAboth 2:13). To avoid the routine against which this saying warns the reader, and to minimize the danger of prayer becoming a merely mechanical recitation, the rabbis of the Talmud urged that something new should be introduced into one's prayer every day (Berakoth 29b). These and similar declarations created among the Jews an awareness of the importance of personal involvement in prayer, and by the Middle Ages the statement that prayer without kavannah or concentration is like a body without a soul or a husk without a kernel, had become proverbial. The Shulchan Aruch, a sixteenth-century law book which was regarded by all Jews up to our day as the authoritative guide to religious living, stated that "a little prayer with kavvanah is better than a lot without it." Although this declara-tion did nothing to diminish the prolixity of Jewish prayers or to shorten synagogue services--the Sabbath morning service, for example, lasting more than three hours--the spirit behind it continued to motivate pious Jews in their quest for sincerity and moral earnestness in their prayer. Just as the prophets of old rejected prayer that did not come "from the heart" (Ho 7:14; see Ps 108:1), the.rabbis o f the Talmud regarded prayer and worship as"a ser-vice of the heart" (Taanith 2a; see Sifre on Dt 10:12), and the Jews in general knew that prayer which was not a heartfelt, experience was not prayer at all. ' The word Talmud means "teaching," and is the name given to a body of writings that incor-porates what were at one time the oral traditions of Judaism. The Talmud records the laws that regulated the daily life of the Jews, as well as the general lore, legendary and otherwise, that formed popular Jewish culture. One version of the Talmud developed in Palestine from about the year 200-350 A.D., while another version was formulated in Babylon in the period between 200 and 500 A.D. The'Talmud is a commentary on the Mishnah (see next note), and like the latter is divided into six orders, which in turn are divided into tractates. Both Mishnah and Talmud are quoted according to tractate. Each tractate deals mainly with one special topic. Thus, for exam-ple, the tractate Berakoth--the word means "blessings"--deals largely with prayer matters. 42 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 Calm and Composure However, if the teachers in Israel regarded kavvanah as an indispensable quality of true prayer they realized that it was not something that can be easily acquired or retained. A text which has come down to us from about 200 A.D., and which is recorded in the Mishnah,' declares that "none may stand to say the Tefillah3 save in sober mind" (Mishnah, Berakoth 5:1). The text then goes on to say that "the pious men of old used to wait an hour before they said the Tefillah, that they~might direct their heart to God." The Talmud commen-tators on this passage remarked that one should not say the Tefillah while im-mersed in "idleness or laughter, or chatter, or frivolity or idle talk" since these are obvious impediments to the concentration and composure that should characterize one's communion with the Holy One. So important was this concentration and composure in the eyes of the rabbis that they recom-mended that one should not attempt to pray at all when one is agitated or preoccupied by distracting thoughts. They state, for example, that one should not pray on return from a journey in case one might not be able to give proper attention to prayer (Talmud, Erubin 65b). Another text which dates from the early Christian centuries declares that "One whose dead relative lies unburied before him is exempt from reciting the Shema" and the Tefillah . Because when a man sees his loss before him he is distraught" (Dt Rabbah 9:1). These recommendations convey the idea that one must control one's mind, one's imagination, and one's feelings before engaging in prayer. This teaching of the rabbis was to be expressed by Maimonides (died 1204), the great Jewish philosopher of the Middle Ages, who wrote as follows: Before engaging in pra'yer one must free one's heart from all preoccupation~s, and regard oneself as standing in God's presence. It is therefore proper to sit a while before praying in order to direct the heart and then pray calmly and devoutly. However, the Jewish teachers realized that the proper dispositions for prayer cannot be acquired during a few moments of concentration before ac-tually beginning to pray. The quality of one's prayer is greatly influenced by 2 The Mishnah, literally "repetition," is the name given to a collection of teachings that are attrib-uted to rabbis who lived in the period between 150 B.C. and 250 A.D. These teachings were codified by Judah the Prince in the middle of the third century A.D. However, in the compilation of~his Mishnah, Judah used earlier collections of rabbinic teachings. ~ Tefillah, meaning "prayer," is the name given to the Jewish prayer par-excellence which con-sisted of eighteen benedictions or petitions. The Tefillah was recited three times daily, in the morning, in the afternoon, and in the evening. Those who attefided the synagogue recited it there, while others recited it in private. The petitions of the Tefillah substantially go back to New Testa-ment times. ¯ The word Shema simply means "hear." It is the name given to a prayer traditionally recited in the morning and in the evening by every male Jew. The prayer, or rather confession of faith, begins with the passage, "Hear, O Israel." (Dr 6:4-9)--hence the name--and continues with Dt. 11:13-21 and Nb 15:37-41. Service of Heart / 43 the whole tone of one's daily life. Nahmanides, a thirteenth century Jewish mystic and scholar of Spain, was aware of this when he wrote: When you pray, remove all worldly considerations from your heart. Set your heart right before God, cleanse your inmost thoughts, and meditate before uttering your devotions. Act thus all your days and in all things, and you will not sin. By this course your deeds wil! be upright, and your prayers pure and clean, innocent and devout, and acceptable before God. Know Before Whom You Stand When Amos wished to warn his fellow-Israelites about the punishment that awaited them because of their infidelity he said simply: "Prepare to meet your God!" (Am 4:12). These blunt words were given a broad interpretation and the rabbis applied them to the preparation needed for prayer. Such an interpretation of the text is by no means unreasonable, because prayer is a meeting with God, and as such it cannot be lightly undertaken. Prayer for the rabbis in particular was a matter of what they called chutzpah, that is, an act of, boldness, even of impertinence. For who can have a right to appear before his creator and Lord, to address him, and to expect an answer? Yet the Jewish sages knew that prayer was part and parcel of Israelite life, and that the great heroes of old, like Moses, David, Jeremiah, had all prayed. Therefore, although the rabbis spoke of God as ".the Holy One, blessed be he," and addressed him in prayer as "Lord, King of the Universe," they never hesitated to present their every plea before him. The Talmud teaches explicitly that "'chut:&ah, even against God is of avail," meaning that God cannot resist one who prays, and that the Lord of Glory does not rejec~ his servants who approach him. Yet, lest the chutzpah involved in prayer go beyond boldness and con-fidence, and become insolence and offense, rabbinic tradition was careful to insist on the reverence and respect that should characterize one's attitude in God's. presence. The rabbis recalled tha,t when the Israelites saw the glory of God on Sinai "their souls fled" and the~, trembled in holy fear. If Moses and the generation of the Exodus who had experienced so many manifestations of God's power and goodness were unable to stand with confidence in his presence, how much more should the less privileged generations of the people feel overcome by his might and majesty? Rabbi Eliezer (c. 100 A.D.) gave this advice to his disciples: "When you pray, know before whom you stand, and in this way you will win the future world" (Berakoth 28b). A slightly modified version of this text became known to generation after generation of Jews who read the words "Know before whom you stand" inscribed in many synagogues over the ark which contained the scrolls of the law. Such an inscription reminded the worshippers of the awesome meaning of prayer, and forcefully suggested that all levity and casualness were inappropriate in the praying congregation. Other synagogue inscriptions that conveyed the same message were Jacob's words as recorded 44 / Review for Religious, Volume 40, 1981/1 in Gn 28:17: "How awesome is t his place! This is none ot her than t he house of God, and this is the gate of heaven," or the psalmist's declaration "1 keep the Lord always before me" (Ps 16:8), or the well known verse from Isaiah, "Ho-ly, holy, holy is the Lord God of hosts," which was also to have an important place in Christian churches and in Christian prayers. These, or similar words, were continual reminders of synagogue worshippers that an attitude of flip-pant self-assurance or a casual or indifferent mood are unbecoming in one who genuinely strives to enter into communion with his God. However, lest the dignity of God and the serious nature of prayer frighten off the would-be worshipper, other texts which instill an attitude of trust in God's presence were at the disposal of those who went to the synagogue to pray. The Jerusalem Talmud laid down the general principle that the Jew need never hesitate to approach God in prayer: "When a man is in trouble let him not cry out to the angel Michael or to the angel Gabriel, but to me, and I will answer immediately" (Berakoth 9, 1.13a). The traditional Jewish Prayer Book began with a series of biblical texts which were designed to create an atmosphere of adoration and devotion in the worshipping community. Texts such as "O Lord, I love the habitation of thy house" (Ps 26:8), or "But as for me, my prayer is to thee, O Lord" (Ps 69:13) were calculated to set the scene for serene reflection, and to express an awareness of God's love and goodness without which prayer is impossible. So while the Jew's attitude to God contained an ingredient of reverent fear, and while his approach to his Lord was characterized by a sober recogni-tion of the divine majesty that 'cannot be flouted, his relationship to God was also marked by trust in a personal Being who, far from being an arbitrary despot, is a God in whom power and love are one, and who cares for those who approach him with faith. The Talmud taught that "one cannot deal familiarly with heaven" (Berakoth 33b-34a), but it did not set God outside the reach of the average Jewish believer. Gestures of Reverence In Old Testament times the temple in Jerusalem was for the Israelite "the house of the Lord" (Ps 27:4). The perpetual lamp which burned in the temple (see Lv 24:2f) was for the rabbis of later times a witness to mankind that God dwelt among his people (Talmud, Sabbath 22b), and the religious leaders of Israel strove to instill into the people a deep respect for the place where God had set up his abode. The Mishnah records the following prescription that was framed in order to ensure that the biblical command to "reverence the Sanc-tuary" (Lv 19:30) would be fulfilled: A man should not behave himself unseemly [in the temple area]. He may not enter the Temple Mount with his staff or his sandal or his wallet, or with dust upon his feet, nor may he make it a short by-pass; still less may he spit there (Mishnah, Berakoth, 9:5). Of course the ultimate aim of this prescription Was to honor the God who Service of Heart / 45 was worshipped in the temple~. The rabbis are explicit about this when they state that just as one does not revere the Sabbath but him who commanded the observance of the Sabbath, so one is not to revere the sanctuary but him who gave the commandment concerning the sanctuary (Talmud, Yebamoth 6a-6b). The authors of these rabbinic statements understood the importance of an aura of sacredness that can help to make one conscious of being in the divine presence, and that can help to generate the I~avvanah that makes prayer meaningful. Biblical tradition prescribes no particular postures or movements for prayer. But we do find mention of several physical postures that are meant to give expression to one's spiritual and menta

Issue 45.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1986. ; Volume 45 Number 4' July/August, 1986 REVIEW FOR REt.~G~OUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by REVIEW FOR REI, IGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, M O. Single copies: $2,50. Subscription U.S.A. $11.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor July/August, 1986 Volume 45 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELtGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindeli Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVtEW FOR RELtCtOUS; 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. A Letter to Priests: The Example of St. John Vianney John Paul H As he has done each year of his pontificate, Pope John Paul addressed a letter to priests for Holy Thursday, which is, par excellence, the Feast of Priesthood. The text is taken from L'Osservatore Romano, 24 March, 1986, pp. 1-3. Here we are again, about to celebrate Holy .Thursday, the day on which Christ J.esus instituted the Eucharist and at the same time our ministerial priesthood. "Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end."~ As the Good Shepherd, he was about to give his life for his sheep,2 to save man, to reconcile him with his Father and bring him into a new life. And already at the Last Supper he offered to the apostles as food his own body given up for them and his blood shed for them. Each year this day is an important one for all Christians: Like the first disciples, they come to receive the body and blood of Christ in the evening liturgy that renews the Last Supper. They receive from the Savior his testament of fraternal love, which must inspire their whole lives, and they begin to watch with him, in order to be united with him in his passion. You yourselves gather them together and guide their prayer. But this day is especially important for us, dear brother priests. It is the ¯ feast of priests. It is the birthday of our priesthood, which is a sharing in the one priesthood of Christ the mediator. On this day the priests of the whole world are invited to concelebrate the Eucharist with their bishops and with them to renew the promises of their priestly commitment to the service of Christ and his Church. As you know, I feel particularly close to each one of you on this 481 482 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 occasion. And, the same as every year, as a sign of our sacramental union in the same priesthood and impelled by my affectionate esteem for you and by my duty to confirm all my brothers in their service of the Lord, I wish to send you this letter to help you to stir up the wonderful gift that was conferred on you through the laying on of hands) This ministerial priest-hood which is our lot is also our vocation and our grace. It marks our whole life with the seal of the most necessary and most demanding of services, the salvation of souls. We are led to it by a host of predecessors. The Matchless Example of the Cur~ of Ars One of those predecessors remains particularly present in the memory of the Church, and he will be especially commemorated this year, on the second centenary of his birth: St. John Mary I"ianney, the Curb of Ars. Together we wish to thank Christ, the prince of pastors, for this extraordinary model of priestly life and service which the saintly Cur~ of Ars offers to the whole Church, and above all to us priests. How many of us prepared ourselves for the priesthood or today .exer-cise the difficult task of caring for souls, having before our eyes the figure of St.John Mary Vianney! His example cannot be forgotten. More than ever we need his witness, his intercession, in order to face the situations of our times when, in spite of a certain number of hopeful signs, evangeliza-tion is being contradicted by a growing secularization, when spiritual disci-pline is being neglected, when many are losing sight of the kingdom of God, when often even in the pastoral ministry there is a too exclusive concern for the social aspect, for temporal aims. In the. last century the Cur~ of Ars had to face difficulties which were perhaps of a different kind but which were no less serious. By his life and work he represented for the society of his time a great evangelical challenge that bore astonishing fruits of conversion. Let us not doubt that he still presents to us today the great evangelical challenge. I therefore invite you now to meditate on our priesthood in the pres.- ence of this matchless pastor, who illustrates both the fullest realization of the priestly ministry and the holiness of the minister. As you know, John Mary Baptist Vianney died at Ars on August 4, 1859, after some forty years of exhausting dedication. He was seventy-three years of age. When he arrived, Ars was a small and obscure village in the Diocese of Lyons, now in the Diocese of Belley. At the end of his life, people came from all over France, and his reputation for holiness, after he had been called home to God, soon attracted the attention of the universal Church. St. Plus X beatified him in 1905, Pius X1 canonized him in 1925 and then in 1929 declared him patron saint of the parish priests of the A Letter to Priests / 483 whole world. On the centenary of his death, Pope John XXIII wrote the encyclical Nostri Sacerdotii Primitias, to present the Cur6 of Ars as a model of priestly life and asceticism, a model of piety and eucharistic worship, a model of pastoral zeal, and this in the context of the needs of our time. Here, I would simply like to draw your attention to certain essential points so as to help us to rediscover and live our priesthood better. The Extraordinary Life of the Cur~ of Ars Preparing for the Priesthood The Cur~ of Ars is truly a model of strong will for those preparing for the priesthood. Many of the trials which followed one after another could have discouraged him: the effects of the upheaval of the French Revolu-tion, the lack of opportunities for education in his rural environment, the reluctance of his father, the need for him to do his share of work in the fields, the hazards of military service. Above all, and in spite of his intuitive intelligence and lively sensitivity, there was his great difficulty in learning and memorizing, and so in following the theological courses in Latin, all of which resulted in his dismissal from the seminary in Lyons. However, after the genuineness of his vocation had finally been acknowledged, at twenty-nine years of age he was able to be ordained. Through his tenacity in working and praying, he overcame all obstacles and limitations, just as he did later in his priestly life, by his perseverance in laboriously preparing his sermons or spending the evenings reading the works of theologians and spiritual writers. From his youth he was filled with a great desire to "win souls for the good of God" by being a priest, and he was supported by the confidence placed in him by the .parish priest of the neighboring town of Ecully, who never doubted his vocation and took charge of a good part of his training. What an example of courage for those who today experience the grace of being called to the priesthood ! His Love for Christ and for Souls The Cur6 of Ars is a model of priestly zeal for all pastors. This secret of his generosity is to be found without doubt in his love of God, lived without limits, in constant response to the love made manifest in Christ crucified. This is where he bases his desire to do everything to save the souls ransomed by Christ at such a great price and to bring them back to the love of God. Let us recall one of those pithy sayings which he had the knack of uttering: "The priesthood is the love of the heart of Jesus.-4 In his sermons and catechesis he continually returned to that love: "O my God, 1 prefer to die loving you than to live a single instant without loving you . I love you, my divine Savior, because you were crucified for us. because you 484 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 have me crucified for you."5 For the sake of Christ, he seeks to conform himself exactly to the radical demands that Jesus in the Gospel puts before the disciples whom he sends out: prayer, poverty, humility, self-denial, voluntary penance. And, like Christ, he has a love for his flock that leads him to extreme pastoral commitment and self-sacrifice. Rarely has a pastor been so acutely aware of his responsibilities, so consumed by a desire to wrest his people from their sins or their lukewarmness. "O my God, grant me the conversion of my parish: I consent to suffer whatever you wish, for as long as I live." Dear brother priests, nourished by the Second Vatican Council which has felicitously placed the priest's consecration within the framework of his pastoral mission, let us join St. John Mary Vianney and seek the dyna-mism of our pastoral zeal in the heart of Jesus, in his love for souls. If we do not draw from the same source, our ministry risks bearing little fruit! The Fruits of His Ministry In the case of the Cure of Ars, the results were indeed wonderful, somewhat as with Jesus in the Gospel. Through John Mary Vianney, who consecrates his Whole strength and his whole heart to him, Jesus saves souls. The Savior entrusts them to him, in abundance. First his parish--which numbered only two hundred thirty people when he arrived--which will be profoundly changed. One recalls that in that village there was a great deal of indifference and very little religious practice among the men. The bishop had warned John Mary Vianney: "There is not much love of God in that parish, you will put some there." But quite soon, far beyond his own village, the cure becomes the pastor of a multitude coming from the entire region, from different parts of France and from other countries. It is said that 80,000 came in the year 1858! People sometimes waited for days to see him, to go to confession to him. What attracted them to him was not merely curiosity nor even a reputation justified by miracles and extraordinary cures, which the saint would wish to hide. It was much more the realization of meeting a saint, amazing for his penance, so close to God in prayer, remarkable for his peace and humility in the midst of popular acclaim and, above all, so intuitive in responding to the inner disposition of souls and in freeing them from their burdens, especially in the confessional. Yes, God chose as a model for pastors one who could have appeared poor, weak, defenseless and con-temptible in the eyes of men.6 He graced him with his best gifts as a guide and healer of souls. While recognizing the special nature of the grace given to the Cur6 of Ars, is there not here a sign of hope for pastors today who are suffering A Letter to Priests from a kind of spiritual desert? The 1Vlinistry of the Curb of Ars Different Apostolic Approaches to the Essential John Mary Vianney dedicated himself essentially to teaching the faith and to purifying consciences, and these two ministries were directed toward the Eucharist. Should we not see here, today also, the three objectives of the priest's pastoral service? While the purpose is undoubtedly to bring the People of God together around the eucharistic mystery by means of catechesis and penance, other apostolic approaches, varying according to circumstances, are also neces-sary. Sometimes it is a simple presence, over the years, with the silent witness of faith in the midst of non-Christian surroundings; or being near to people, to families and their concerns; there is a preliminary evangeliza-tion that seeks to awaken to the faith unbelievers and the lukewarm; there is the witness of charity and justice shared with Christian lay people, which makes the faith more credible and puts it into practice. These give rise to a whole series of undertakings and apostolic works which prepare or con-tinue Christian formation. The Cur~ of Ars himself taxed his ingenuity to devise initiatives adapted to his time and his parishioners. However, all these priestly activities were centered on the Eucharist, catechesis and the sacrament of reconciliation. The Sacrament of Reconciliation It is undoubtedly his untiring devotion to the sacrament of reconcilia-tion which revealed the principle charism of the Cur~ of Ars and is rightly the reason for his renown. It is good that such an example should encour-age us today to restore to the ministry of reconciliation all the attention which it deserves and which the Synod of Bishops of 1983 so justly emphasized.7 Without the step of conversion, penance and seeking pardon that the Church's ministers ought untiringly to encourage and welcome, the much desired renewal will remain superficial and illusory. The first care of the Cur~ of Ars was to teach the faithful to desire repentance. He stressed the beauty of God's forgiveness. Was not all his priestly life and all his strength dedicated to the conversion of sinners? And it was above all in the confessional that God's mercy manifested itself. So he did not wish to get rid of the penitents who came from all parts and to whom he often devoted ten hours a day, sometimes fifteen or more. For him this was undoubtedly the greatest of his mortifications, a form of martyrdom. In the first place it was a martyrdom in the physical sense from the heat, the cold or the suffocating atmosphere. Second, in the moral Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 sense, for he himself suffered from the sins confessed and even more the lack of repentance: "I weep because you do not weep." In the face of these indifferent people, whom he welcomed as best he could and tried to awaken in them the love of God, the Lord enabled him to reconcile great sinners who were repentant, and also to guide to perfection souls thirsting for it. It was here above all that God asked him to share in the redemption. For our own part, we have rediscovered, better than during the last century, the community aspect of penance, preparation for forgiveness and thanksgiving after forgiveness. But sacramental forgiveness will always require a personal encounter with the crucified Christ through the media-tion of his minister,s Unfortunately it is often the case that penitents do not fervently hasten to the confessional, as in the time of the Cur~ of Ars. Now, just when a great number seem to stay away from confession completely for various reasons, it is a sign of the urgent need to develop a whole pastoral strategy of the sacrament of reconciliation. This will be done by constantly reminding Christians of the need to have a-real relationship with God, to have a sense of sin when one is closed to God and to others, the need to be converted and through the Church to receive forgiveness as a free gift of God. They also need to be reminded of the conditions that enable the sacrament to be celebrated well, and in this regard to overcome prejudices, baseless fears and routine.9 Such a situation at the same time requires that we ourselves should remain very available for this ministry of forgiveness, ready to devote to it the necessary time and care, and I would even say giving it priority over other activities. The faithful will then realize the value that we attach to it, as did the Cur~ of Ars. Of course, as I wrote in the post-synodal exhortation on penance,~0 the ministry undoubtedly remains the most difficult, the most delicate, the most taxing and the most demanding of all---especially when priests are in short supply. This ministry also presupposes on the part of the confessor great human qualities, above all, an intense and sincere spiritual life; it is necessary that the priest himself should make regular use of this sacrament. Always be convinced of this, dear brother priests: this ministry of mercy is one of the most beautiful and most consoling. It enables you to enlighten consciences, to forgive them and to give them fresh vigor in the name of the Lord Jesus. It enables you to be for them a spiritual physician and counselor; it remains "the irreplaceable manifestation and the test of the priestly ministry." ~ The Eucharist: Offering the Mass, Communion, Adoration The two sacraments of reconciliation and the Eucharist remain closely linked. Without a continually renewed conversion and the reception of the A Letter to Priests / 487 sacramental grace of forgiveness, participation in the Eucharist would not reach its full redemptive efficacy.~2 Just as Christ began his ministry with the words "Repent and believe in the Gospel,"~3 so the Cur6 of Ars gener-ally began each of his days with the ministry of forgiveness. But he was happy to direct his reconciled penitents to the Eucharist. The Eucharist was at the very center of his spiritual life and pastoral work. He said: "All good works put together are not equivalent to the sacrifice of the Mass, because they are the works of men and the holy Mass is'the work of God."~4 It is in the Mass that the sacrifice of Calvary is made present for the redemption of the world. Clearly, the priest must unite the daily gift of himself to the offering of the Mass: "How well a priest does, therefore, to offer himself to God in sacrifice every morning!"~5 "Holy communion and the holy sacrifice of the Mass are the two most efficacious actions for obtaining the conversion of hearts."~6 Thus the Mass was for John Mary Vianney the great joy and comfort of his priestly life. He took great care, despite the crowds of penitents, to spend more than a quarter of an hour in silent preparation. He celebrated with recollection, clearly expressing his adoration at the consecration and communion. He accurately remarked: "The cause of priestly laxity is not paying attention to the Mass!''~7 The Cur6 of Ars was particularly mindful of the permanence of Christ's real presence in the Eucharist. It was generally before the tabernacle that he spent long hours in adoration, before daybreak or in the evening; it was toward the tabernacle that he often turned during his homilies, saying with emotion: "He is there!" It was also for this reason that he, so poor in his presbytery, did not hesitate to spend large sums on embellishing his church. The appreciable result was that his parishioners quickly took up the habit of coming to pray before the Blessed Sacrament, discovering, through the attitude of their pastor, the grandeur of the mystery of faith. With such a testimony before our eyes, we think about what the Second Vatican Council says to us today on the subject of priests: "They exercise this sacred function of Christ most of all in the eucharistic liturgy." ~8 And more recently, the extraordinary synod in December, 1985, recalled: "The liturgy must favor and make shine brightly the sense of the sacred. It must be imbued with reverence, adoration and glorification of God . The Eucharist is the source and summit of all the Christian life."19 Dear brother priests, the example of the Cur6 of Ars invites us to a serious examination of conscience: What place do we give to the Mass in our daily lives? Is it, as on the day of our ordination--it was our first act as priests!--the principle of our apostolic work and personal sanctification? What care do we take in preparing for it? And in celebrating it? In praying 41111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 before the Blessed Sacrament? In encouraging our faithful people to do the same? In making our churches the house of God to which the divine presence attracts the people of our times, who too often have the impres-sion of a world empty of God? Preaching and Catechesis The Cur~ of Ars was also careful never to neglect in any way the ministry of the Word, which is absolutely necessary in predisposing people to faith and conversion. He even said: "Our Lord, who is truth itself, considers his Word no less important than his body."20 We know how long he spent, especially at the beginning, in laboriously composing his Sunday sermons. Later on he came to express himself more spontaneously, always with lively and clear conviction, with images and comparisons taken from daily life and easily grasped by his flock. His catechetical instructions to the children also formed an important part of his ministry, and the adults gladly joined the children so as to profit from this matchless testimony which flowed from his heart. He had the courage to denounce evil in all its forms; he did not keep silent, for it was a question of the eternal salvation of his faithful people: "If a pastor remains silent when he sees God insulted and souls going astray, woe to him! If he does not want to be damned, and if there is some disorder in his parish, he must trample upon human respect and the fear of being despised or hated." This responsibility was his anguish as parish priest. But as a rule, "he preferred to show the attractive side of virtue rather than the ugliness of vice," and if he spoke--sometimes in tears-- about sin and the danger for salvation, he insisted on the tenderness of God who has been offended, and the happiness of being loved by God, united by God, living in his presence and for him. Dear brother priests, you are deeply convinced of the importance of proclaiming the Gospel, which the Second Vatican Council placed in the first rank of the functions of a priest.2~ You seek, through catechesis, through preaching and in other forms which also include the media, to touch the hearts of our contemporaries, with their hopes and uncertainties, in order to awaken and foster faith. Like the Cur6 of Ars and in accor-dance with the exhortation of the council,22 take care to teach the Word of God itself which calls people to conversion and holiness. The Identity of the Priest The Specific Ministry of the I~iest St. John Mary Vianney gives an eloquent answer to certain question-ings of the priest's identity which have manifested themselves in the course A Letter to Priests / 4119 of the last twenty years; in fact it seems that today a more balanced position is being reached. The priest always and in an unchangeable way finds the source of his identity in Christ the priest. It is not the world which determines his status, as though it depended on changing needs or ideas about social roles. The priest is marked with the seal of the priesthood of Christ in order to share in his function as the one mediator and redeemer. So, because of this fundamental bond, there opens before the priest the immense field of the service of souls, for their salvation in Christ and in the Church. This service must be completely inspired b.y love of souls in imita-tion of Christ who gives his life for them. It is God's wish that all people should be saved and that none of the little ones should be lost.23 "The priest must always be ready to respond to the needs of souls," said the Cur6 of Ars.24 "He is not for himself, he is for you."25 The priest is for the laity. He animates them and supports them in the exercise of the common priesthood of the baptized--so well illustrated by the Second Vatican Council--which consists in their making their lives a spiritual offering, in witnessing to the Christian spirit in the family, in taking charge of the temporal sphere and sharing in the evangelization of their brethren. But the service of the priest belongs to another order. He is ordained to act in the name of Christ the head, to bring people into the new life made accessible by Christ, to dispense to them the mysteries---the word, forgiveness, the bread of life--to gather them into his body, to help them to form themselves from within, to live and to act according to the saving plan of God. In a word, our identity as priests is manifested in the "creative" exercise of the love for souls communicated by Christ Jesus. Attempts to make the priest more like the laity are damaging to the Church. This does not mean in any way that the priest can remain remote from the human concerns of the laity. He must be. very near to them, as John Mary Vianney was, but as a priest, always in a perspective which is of their salvation and of the progress of the kingdom of God. He is the witness and dispenser of a life other than earthly life.26 It is essential to the Church that the identity of the priest be safeguarded with its vertical dimension. The life and personality enlightening and vigorous illustration of this. Configuration to Christ and Solidarity with Sinners St. John Mary Vianney did not content himself with the ritual carrying out of the activities of his ministry. It was his heart and his life which he sought to conform to Christ. Prayer was the soul of his life: silent and contemplative prayer, gener- 4~0 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 ally in his church at the foot of the tabernacle. Through Christ, his soul opened to the three divine persons, to whom he would entrust "his poor soul" in his last will and testament. "He kept a constant union with God in the middle of an extremely busy life," And he did not neglect the Office or the rosary. He turned spontaneously to the Virgin. His poverty was extraordinary. He literally stripped himself of every-thing for the poor. And he shunned honors. Chastity shone in his face. He knew the value of purity in order "to rediscover the source of love, which is God." Obedience to Christ consisted, for John Mary Vianney, in obedience to the Church and especially to the bishop. This obedience took the form of accepting the heavy charge of being a parish priest, which often fright-ened him. But the Gospel insists especially on renouncing self, on accepting the cross. Many were the crosses which presented themselves to the Cur6 of Ars in the course of his ministry: calumny on the part of the people, being misunderstood by an assistant priest or other confreres, contradictions, and also a mysterious struggle against the powers of hell, and sometimes even the temptation to despair in the midst of spiritual darkness. Nonetheless he did not content himself with just accepting these trials without complaining; he went beyond them by mortification, imposing on himself continual fasts and many other rugged practices in order ''to reduce his body to servitude," as St. Paul says. But what we must see clearly in this penance, which our age unhappily has little taste for, are his motives: love of God and the conversion of sinners. Thus he asks a discouraged fellow priest: "You have prayed . you have wept . but have you fasted, have you kept vigil?"27 Here we are close to the warning of Jesus to the apostles: "But this kind is cast out only by prayer and fasting."28 In a word, John Mary Vianney sanctified himself so as to be more able to sanctify others. Of course, conversion remains the secret of hearts, which are free in their actions, and the secret of God's grace. By his ministry, the priest can only enlighten people, guide them in the internal forum and give them the sacraments. The sacraments are, of course, actions of Christ, and their effectiveness is not diminished by the imperfection or unworthiness of the minister. But the results depend also on the dispositions of those who receive them, and these are greatly assisted by the personal holiness of the priest, by his perceptible witness, as also by the mysterious exchange of merits in the communion of saints. St. Paul said: "In my flesh I complete what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the Church."29 John Mary Vianney in a sense Wished to force God to grant these graces of conversion, not only by his prayer but by the sacrifice of his whole life. He wished to love God for those who did not love him and even A Letter to Priests / 491 do the penance which they would not do. He was truly a pastor completely at one with his sinful people. Dear brother priests, let us not be afraid of this very personal commit-ment-- marked by asceticism and inspired by love--which God asks of us for the proper exercise of our priesthood. Let us remember the recent reflections of the synodal fathers: "It seems to us that in the difficulties of today God wishes to teach us more deeply the value, importance and central place of the cross of Jesus Christ."30 In the priest, Christ relives his passion for the sake of souls. Let us give thanks to God, who thus permits us to share in the redemption, in our hearts and in our fles!! For all these reasons, St. John Mary Vianney never ceases to be a witness, ever living, ever relevant, to the truth about the priestly vocation and service. We recall the convincing way in which he spoke of the great-ness of the priest and of the absolute need for him. Those who are already priests, those who are preparing for the priesthood and those who will be called to it must fix their eyes on his example and follow it. The faithful too will more clearly grasp, thanks to him, the mystery of the priesthood of their priests. No, the figure of the Cur6 of Ars does not fade. Conclusion Dear brothers, may these reflections renew your joy at being priests, your desire to be priests more profoundly! The witness of the Cur6 of Ars contains still other treasures to be discovered. We shall return to these themes at greater length during the pilgrimage which I shall have the joy of making next October, since the French bishops have invited me to Ars in honor of the second centenary of the birth of John Mary Vianney. I address this first meditation to you, dear brothers, for the solemnity of Holy Thursday. In each of our diocesan communities we are going to gather together, on this birthday of our priesthood, to renew the grace of the sacrament of orders, to stir up the love which is the mark of our vocation. We hear Christ saying to us as he said to the apostles: "Greater love has no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends., I have called you friends.TM Before him who manifests love in its fullness, we priests and bishops renew our priestly commitments. We pray for one another, each for his brother and all for all. We ask the eternal Father that the memory of the Cur6 of Ars may help to stir up our zeal in his service. We beseech the Holy Spirit to call to the Church's service many priests of the caliber and holiness of the Cur6 of Ars: In our age she has so great a 492 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 need of them, and she is no less capable of bringing such vocations to full flower. And we entrust our priesthood to the Virgin Mary, the mother of priests, to whom John Mary Vianney ceaselessly had recourse with tender affection and total confidence. This was for him another reason for giving thanks: "Jesus Christ," he said, "having given us all that he could give us, also wishes to make us heirs of what is most precious to him, his holy mother.'S2 For my part, I assure you once more of my great affection, and with your bishop, I send you my apostolic blessing. From the Vatican, March 16, 1986, the fifth Sunday of Lent, in the eighth year of my pontificate. NOTES ~Jn 13:!. 2See Jn 10:11. ~See 2 Tm 1:6. aSee Jean-Marie Vianney, Curb d' Ars, Sa Pensee, Son Coeur, presented by Abbe Bernard Nodet, Editions Xavier Mappus, Le Puy, 1958, p. 100. Henceforth quoted as: Nodet. 5Nodet, p. 44. 6See 1 Co 1:28-19. 7See John Paul II, post-synodal apostolic exhortation Reconciliatio et Paenitentia (Dec. 2, 1984): AAS 77 (1985), pp. 185-275. sSee John Paul I1, encyclical letter Redemptor Hominis (March 14, 1979), no. 20: AAS 71 (1979), pp. 313-316. 9See Reconciliatio et Paenitentia, n. 28. ~°.See ibid, 29. ~'John Paul II, Letter to Priests for Holy Thursday, 1983, No. 3: AAS 75 (1983), Pars I, p. 419. ~2See Redemptor Hominis, n. 20. ~JMk 1:15. ~4Nodet, p. 108. ~5Ibid, p. 107. 161bid, p. 110. ~7Ibid, p. 108. taSecond Vatican Council, Lumen Gentium, n. 28. 191I, b, b/1 and c/l; see LG n. 11. 2°Nodet, p. 126. 2'Second Vatican Council, Presbyterorum Ordinis, n. 4. ~See ibid. 23See Mt 18:14. 24Nodet, p. 101. 2~Ibid, p. 102. ~6See Presbyterorum Ordinis, n. 3. 27Nodet, p. 193. 2SMt 17:21. 29Co1 1:24. 3°Final Report, D/2. 3lJn 15:13-15. 32Nodet, p. 252. Religious Life: God's Call and Our Response Christopher Kiesling, O P. Father Kiesling is professor emeritus of systematic theology at Aquinas Institute in St. Louis, and former editor of Spirituality Today. He may be addressed at liis residence: 97 Waterman Place, Saint Louis, Missouri 63112. What is religious life--an institution of life? Actually, it is both, but it does not make a difference how we view it primarily. From an observer's point of view, it is an institution, an organization of life to achieve a specific goal by particular means. From a participant's perspective, it is life which, as it unfolds, assumes a pattern. If we think of religious life first as an institution, emphasis falls on the organizational elements. It then appears as a more or less fixed framework existing "out there" into which people must learn to fit. On the other hand, if religious life is perceived primarily as life, the stress is on the religious development of the people who constitute a community. This article considers religious life from a participant's viewpoint and describes it as a call from God to which we respond, both call and response mediated by Jesus Christ, the Church, a religious congregation, and personal history. A call is something with which we are familiar. People call us to catch our attention when they want us to do something. We receive telephone calls. A call comes from outside of ourselves. It enters into us and evokes a response of attention or rejection and, if attention, a further response of action or refusal to act. Religious life'is aptly regarded as a call. We commonly refer to religious 493 4~1 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 life as a vocation, which means "call." We religious are aware that our religious life comes from outside of ourselves, that is, our controlling ego, whether we imagine the call as coming from above us or from the depths of our being. We can explain to people why we are religious. But even as we offer reasons for our choice of religious life, we are conscious that even the totality of answers does not adequately explain our choice. The "why" of our religious life always contains an element of mystery. In the light of faith, we attribute this mystery, not simply to our ignorance of our com-plex and often subconscious motivations, but to God's call as the ultimate and inexplicable reason for our being religious. God's call to choose this way of life has entered our controlling ego, caught our attention, and won a response of action from us. God's call is enduring. It continues to invite us to renew radically our choice of religious life or to choose activities which confirm our radical choice. God's call is effective. It accomplishes what it asks, provided that we do not place obstacles in the way. God called creation out of nothingness, Israel out of Egypt, Jesus out of death. So to say that religious life is a call from God is not to affirm only that it begins with God's catching our attention and proposing a way of life for our choice. God's call enables us to attend to it and to respond to it initially and continually. Our religious life, in other words, is God's work in us. Yet we freely choose religious life; it is also our work. One reason why explanations for our choice of religious life seem inadequate is that they do not amount to an absolutely compelling set of motives for our choice. We could have done, and even now can do, otherwise than follow this way of life. If we follow it, we have freely chosen to do so. Hence religious life is both God's efficacious call at work within us and our response freely given: it is life issuing from our own hearts as well as from God's call. As the call is enduring, so is the response in the form of periodic radical renewals of our choice of religious life and in the form of daily choices of activities confirm-ing the radical choice. How religious life can be the result of both God's efficacious call and our free response is, of course, a mystery which theologians over the centuries have not been able to illuminate, much less explain, in a way agreeable to all. It is a mystery we are forced to acknowledge, however, for we cannot deny our experience of freedom and respons~ibility on the one hand and, on the other, the necessity of God's grace for us sinners to live a life pleasing to God. Our response to God's call to religious life is not only.free but is meant to embrace the whole of our lives. Religious life is life. It is more than a Religious Ltfe: God's Call / 495 particular organization of life and more than a job to be done. It embraces our bodily being, sensible perception, emotional functioning, and spiritual operations. Following Bernard Lonergan's lead,~ we can list a host of activities which we can attribute to our spirit, a spirit of inquiry, and which we constantly perform as we go about daily living: we experience, observe, note, gather information, seek insight, discover intelligibility, conceptualize, find words to express our ideas, check our ideas against reality (that is reason about them), judge them to be true or false in comparison with what is, evaluate the goodness or badness of what we find in reality, decide whether or not to choose this or that good, choose, and act to carry out what is chosen. These activities prompted by the spirit of inquiry engage, it should be noted, not only intellectual operations (e.g., questioning, seeking insight, reasoning) but also bodily activities (e.g., experiencing, observing, noting), emotional reactions (e.g., evaluating), and operations of the will (e.g., choosing, acting). So the response which constitutes, with God's efficacious call, religious life is very comprehensive. Religious life as response to God's call entails the whole of life in several ways. It involves giving of the whole of ourselves to God, all the components of our persons and personalities. We are called to give the whole of our-selves wholly, that is, to direct all our energies to the giving of the whole of ourselves to God. And we are called to give the whole of ourselves wholly for the whole of life, for the vocation is not to a training period in religious behavior, or to an extended retreat, or to a supervised experience of com-munity living (as valuable as such experiences may be for some people), but to religious life. To achieve, or rather approach achievement, of such totality of response to God's call is a lifetime task. Religious life as composed of God's call and our response is, then, ongoing dialogue and interaction between God and ourselves. It is event, something that happens, a dynamic reality. It is highly personal. It is not a relatively rigid framework into which everyone must fit in exactly the same way, but cooperative,activity between ourselves and God. It assumes insti-tutional form because it is social and occurs in community. But it always overflows its organization because it is first of all life adapting itself to changing circumstances in dialogue and interaction with God. Periodic congregational and provincial chapters required by canon law are recogni-tion that religious life is primarily engendered in dialogue and interaction with God in changing situations, rather than being relatively unchangeable institutional organization. The Bible contains numerous stories of God's call to various persons and their responses. We think of God's call to Abraham (Gn 12:1-9), Moses (Ex 3:1-4:17), Joshua (Dt 31:14-15, 23; (Jos 1:1-9), Gideon (Jg 6:11-24), 4~6 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 Samuel (1 Sam 3:1-21), Saul (1 S 9:1-10:24), Isaiah (Is 6:1-13), Jeremiah (Jr 1:4-19), Ezekiel (Ezk 1:3-3:15), Joseph (Mt 1:18-25; 2:13-15, 19-23), Mary (Lk 1:26-28), Jesus (Mt 3:13-17), Simon, Andrew, James, and John (Mt 5:18-22; Lk 5:1-11), Matthew, or Levi (Mr 9:9), and Paul (Ac 9:1-19). These accounts of God's call and the initial response of certain biblical figures together with further narratives of their carrying out their response are a source of reflection for religious. They alert us to the variety of ways in which God calls people and the diversity of responses that are possible. They help us to hear God's call to us today, to interpret it, and to answer it appropriately. God's call is not a divine shout or whisper which we hear with our ears, or even an interior imagining of such a vocal invitation. God's call--and our response also--are mediated. They are mediated first of all through Jesus Christ. God's call comes to us in the urging of Jesus to follow him (Mt 4:18-22; 8:19-22; 9:9-13; 10:37-38; 19:16-30 and parallels in Luke and Mark). Religious life is rooted in Jesus' call to become his disciples, for religious life developed in the Church as a way of responding to Jesus' call to discipleship. The scriptural passages recounting Jesus' invitation to come after him are, therefore, important for religious to meditate on because in them they "hear" Jesus' call and, through that call, the call of God whom Jesus addressed as Abba (Father)? God's call is mediated not only by Jesus in his earthly life remembered in the Scriptures but also by Jesus in risen glory. The basis for saying this is the continuance of Jesus'. followers' discipleship after the resurrection (Ac 1:3) and their being sent by the risen Lord to forgive sin (Jn 20:21-23) and to preach his message throughout the whole world (Mt 28:18-20). Another basis is the resurrected Jesus' call of Saul on the road to Damascus (Ac 9:3-6). Still another foundation is the conviction of religious through the centuries that Jesus' call comes to them not merely in the memory of his earthly life recorded in Scripture, but that Jesus the risen Lord calls them personally now as he once called his followers after his resurrection in Palestine nearly two thousand years ago. Our response of religious life is also mediated by Jesus. By his self-offer-ing on the cross, Jesus reconciled us to God, removing the obstacles between us and God, and giving us access to God. His sacrifice won for us the divine help, grace, whereby we are enabled to live for God. The risen Jesus now "forever lives to intercede for us" (Heb 7:25). He prepares a kingdom, which includes the lives of religious, that he will hand over to his Father at the end of time (1 Co 15:24-25). He lives in us, making our discipleship in religious life a reality (Jn 15:4-5; Ga 2:20; Ep 4:16; Col 1:27). Jesus is the mediator of our response to God's call also in the sense that Religious Life: God's Call / 497 his life is the model for the kind of response we as religious seek to make to God's call. Our religious life, then, is like our liturgical worship: it is "through Christ our Lord," in regard to both God's call and our response. Jesus' call to religious life, both the earthly and the risen Jesus' call, is mediated to us by the Church. The celebration of the word and the sacra-ments in the liturgy, evangelization, catechesis, preaching, religious educa-tion, theology, pastoral counseling, spiritual direction, doctrinal teaching regarding faith and morals, dogmatic definitions--all these ecclesial activi-ties recall the memory of the earthly Jesus, convey the action of the risen Lord through his Spirit, and so extend God's call in Jesus to discipleship and thus to religious life. Not less worthy of consideration are the activities of parents, school teachers, religious sisters and brothers, parish priests, Newman chaplains, and others who in various ways make Jesus' call to discipleship a particular invitation to us. The Church, we must absolutely not forget, consists of all the baptized faithful, not only the clergy, or the bishops, or the pope, or the Roman curia. The Church's mediating Jesus' call to us is experienced chiefly in the direct encounters we have with a variety of Church members at a local level. The mediation of the Church is a crucial factor in God's call coming to us. The faithful gathering of God's people through the centuries for wor-ship, for care for one another, for all the needy, and for the reform of society has had an impact on people. It has raised questions in people's minds about the purpose of life and the value of their occupations. It has thus led to the discovery of God,s call in Jesus to discipleship and life with the Father and all his children. At times parts of the Church, whether among the clergy or the laity or the religious, have not been very edifying in their lives or credible vehicles conveying the call to follow Jesus. But God overrides these obstacles and somehow uses them, faulty as they may be, to quicken the life of his people. God raises up saints, canonized and noncanonized, in every age. Even the unchurched depend upon the Church, for if they have faith in Jesus Christ, if they treasure the Bible, if they seek to imitate the conduct of Jesus, they have inherited all these values from the community of the faithful, from the Church, which has preserved them over the centuries through times of unity and division, fervor and laxity, freedom and persecution. As we religious think of the Church as mediating God's call through Jesus, we ought not to romanticize our idea of the Church, but accept it in all its weakness, defects, and even sins. Despite imperfections and even perversities, it remains a vehicle whereby God communicates to us the divine word and the power to renew our lives. Through the Church we tlgl~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 have access to God. The Church may be a besmirched sacrament of God's union with humanity and of all men and women with one another--a sacrament badly in need of being cleansed and polished. But it is still that sacrament and our need of it is profound. And it may not be as badly besmirched as many people take for granted in this era of suspicion towards all institutions. The Church civilized barbarian Europe, preserved the vestiges of classical culture, and provided for the sick, handicapped, and poor until the modern state developed and could take over social concerns. Even now it is the Church, along with other voluntary associa-tions, which cares for people who fall between the cracks of social welfare in modern society. Not only is Jesus' call to religious life mediated by the Church but also our response. Founders of religious orders and congregations, the ancient commentators on monastic life, preachers of retreats, congregations' chap-ters, and canonical legislation over the centuries have interpreted the so-called evangelical counsels, laid down rules to safeguard their practice, and confirmed the constitutions of orders and congregations. Religious respond to God's call in Jesus by using this interpretation, these regulations, and these constitutions in the guidance of their lives. The Church, moreover, prays for religious. This is eminently obvious in the liturgies for religious profession, but appears also from time to time in the general intercessions at Mass and in the Liturgy of the Hours. Many members of God's people, such as parents or friends, pray for religious in unofficial ways. All these prayers intercede for religious, not simply that they be called by God, but that they cooperate with that call by responding with the gift of their lives. The apostolates which religious engage in are approved by the Church, or assigned by the Church, or carried out in the name of the Church, and serve the needs of the Church, both in its inner life and in its mission to the world. Insofar as the ministry of religious constitutes part of their response to God's and Jesus' call, that part of their response is also mediated by the Church. We religious need to be increasingly appreciative that the ecclesial life in which we participate is a concrete way of saying yes to God's call through Jesus Christ. God's call and our response, constitutive of religious life, are further mediated by a religious order or congregation. The call through Jesus and the Church comes to an individual through some community whose members, ideals, apostolate, and lifestyle attract attention and evoke a desire to participate. Perhaps only one religious community has ever been enticing, or several may have proved interesting but eventually one is singled out as the concrete form of God's call and of personal response. Sometimes the religious congregation that draws a person is one encoun- Religious Life: God's Call / 499 tered first in childhood; sometimes the one known most recently in adult-hood embodies God's call. The contact with the religious group may have been initiated through vocational literature or through acquaintance with some members of the congregation. The admissions procedure and basic formation program of a religious community mediate God's call either to that community or to some other group, or even to another way of Christian life. A community's constitutions, its chapters' decisions, and its ministries are all further mediations of God's call to the community's members. The congregation's life and mission, taken up and lived by the members of the community, become the concrete form in which they say yes to God's call through Jesus Christ mediated by the Church. Religious life as life which flows from the depths of persons toward God assumes a pattern of organization which characterizes a particular religious group. Hence the importance of appreciating one's congregational history, life, ministry, constitutions, and members, for they all convey concretely, existentially, in a down-to-earth way both God's call and our response through Jesus Christ and through the Church. Finally, God's call is mediated through our personal history. It is not difficult to see our response to God's call as mediated through personal history, for our response is precisely our living out in time our personal religious life. But personal history also mediates the call from God. Our temperament, character, personality, neuroses, talents that incline us to find religious life attractive and a particular congregation congenial have been inherited from parents, family, teachers, friends, and other significant people in our lives. The social environment in which we grew up, the schooling we had, work experiences, and events which made deep impressions on our psyches have all left traces in us which contribute to making religious life appealing and this order or congregation attractive. In religious life many similar factors enter into our history to confirm our continuation in that way of life. Still other factors peculiar to religious life support our further dedication, such as agreeable experiences of com-munity, enjoymeht and success in ministry, satisfaction of the desire for prayer, and the gratifying sense of helping others in need. Since we believe that our lives are guided by divine providence, we believe that all these factors which make religious life attractive and fulfill-ing are indeed God's call to us to follow Christ in religious life. Self-knowl-edge, then, plays an important role in discerning God's call to religious life and in assessing the quality of our response to that call. Why do we need to consider these mediations of God's call and our response? The answer is: to be realistic and avoid false idealism. We need to recognize that the mediation of God's call through Jesus, especially as 500 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 further mediated through the very human realities of the Church, a religious community, and personal history means that the call is now always going to be clear. At times we may scarcely "hear" it; at other times it will seem obvious. On some occasions it will appear to be a certain path on which to follow Jesus; but at other times it will seem risky, a gamble, of dubious value. The mediation of our response will sometimes be exciting, adventur-ous, a joyful and deeply satisfying enterprise; at other times it will be prosaic, routine, dull, and even boring; and at still other times it will be chaotic, exasperating, and exhausting physically and emotionally. So fidelity to the moments of obvious call and fulfilling response must tide us over times of obscurity and dullness. Young religious in particular are apt to idealize elements of religious life. They expect more from religious community than it can actually provide. Unrealistic expectations of the change that they can effect in the lives of individuals and society through their ministry can lead to disap-pointment and discouragement when those expectations are not fulfilled. But if we understand that even in these less satisfying and less brilliant moments of religious life God is efficaciously calling us and we are working out our response, some value can be found even in the commonplace and unsuccessful. Indeed, those situations can purify our motivation. We hear and answer God's call because it is God's call and we wish to give our lives to God, not because we find delight or satisfaction in the particular form in which God's call comes or in which our response is given. God's call is mediated through Jesus. Jesus referred to God as his Abba (Father) and so distinguished his person from the person of Abba. Our call to religious life, and the one to whom we respond, is ultimately the first person of the Trinity, the font of divine life in the Trinity, the origin without origin among the three divine persons. Jesus as Son is the image of the first person of the Trinity and in his humanity conveys to us the Father's call to share in the divine life. The Son incarnate also provides for us the model for sharing in the life of the Trinity, namely, to receive all we have from the Father and return it to the Father. We are enabled to regard the first person of the Trinity in this way and to have faith in the Son incarnate as conveying God's call to us and exemplifying for us our response because Jesus' Abba and the risen Jesus have poured forth into our hearts their Holy Spirit, the third person of the Trinity. The Spirit is the love binding Father and Son together in the divine life, and the Spirit then binds us into the triune life through the life which she engenders in our hearts. God's call and our response which constitute our religious life entails Religious Ltfe: God's Call / 501 our being related to each of the three divine persons of the Trinity: being called by the Father, responding by the power of the Spirit, hearing the call and making our response through the Son. NOTES ~Method in Theology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), pp. 2-20. 2For studies of these scriptural passages in relation to religious life, see Francis Moloney, Disciples and Prophets (New York: Crossroads, 1981) pp. 9-12, 19-31, 62-63, 89-90, 105-14, 133-54; John M. Lozano, Discipleship: Toward an Understanding of Religious life (Chicago: Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality, 1980), pp. 5-18, 31-38. Christ the Center of Our Vowed Life b.v 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 Expectations in Religious Community James Fitz, S.M. Father Fitz is a member of the provincial administration of the Cincinnati province of his community. Prior to that, he was director of novices for six years. He may be addressed at the Marianist Provincialate; 4435 East Patterson Road; Dayton, Ohio 45430-1095. In the Old Testament, God and Israel are major partners in covenant. God has certain expectations of Israel; Israel has certain expectations of God. These mutual expectations become a source of security for Israel and a call for Israel to be what it is capable of becoming. The very nature of covenant implies life-enhancing expectations. In the New Testament, we, the Church, have become the people of the new covenant. Again expecta-tions are part of the covenant. For example, "This is my commandment: love one another as I have loved you"(Jn 15:12). Faithfulness to the cove-nant is one of the characteristics of our God; unfaithfulness has often been our response. However, God continues to call us, his people, to all that we are capable of becoming. Our God is faithful even when we are unfaithful. Covenant is the basis of our commitment to one another in religious communities. We join communities because we can do some things in community that we cannot do alone. In community we find the support and challenge to be the disciples of Christ that we are called to be. The Christian call is a continual call. We are made to be in union with others; none of us is complete in ourselves. Since we are made in the image and likeness of our God who is loving, generative and faithful, we will not be fulfilled unless we love, give life and are faithful. In the covenant communities we form as religious, we too have expec-tations of one another. Although expectations are not the only ingredient 502 Expectations in Religious Community / 503 for good community, I have learned during the past nine years in a leader-ship role in religious community the important role expectations play in building community and also the problematical role of hidden and unreal expectations. There are two important dynamics in terms of our expecta-tions in community. First, it is important that members of communities identify their expectations of one another in order that hidden expectations do not lead to unnecessary tension and conflict. Secondly, after expecta-tions are identified, it is important to sort out which are life-enhancing and which are not. It is important to identify expectations that we are capable of meeting, which call us to be the persons God calls us to be, and in which it is worth investing our energy. I have found it helpful to understand clearly what are fai? and realistic expectations. These expectations are based on who we are and what we are capable of becoming. On the one hand, we cannot expect from others something that is not truly possible for them to be. On the other hand, our expectations should call them to be the best that they can be. Since our expectatigns are to be fair and realistic, there are some things we cannot expect. We can hope that they happen, but we cannot expect them. An example may be illustrative. We can hope that we will have a deep friend-ship with each member of our local community. However we cannot expect or demand that each becomes our friend. Friendship is a gi~ that must be received, not an expectation that can be demanded. Fair and realistic expectations, clearly stated, are the building blocks for a Gospel community of one mind and one heart. With obvious room for forgiveness for human failings, it is important in covenant community that we invite and challenge each other to meet the fair and realistic expectations we have set in our covenant. If we grant that clear expectations are important to community, then it is important to identify the realistic expectations we can have in Christian community. What are the expectations that call us forth to build together the community of one mind and one heart that is the invitation of the New Testament Scriptures? There are probably many that could be listed. My experience has surfaced five important expectations: respect, honesty, care, forgiveness and faithfulness. Respect The dignity of the human person is one of the basic principles of Catholic social thought and an important basis for building Christian community. Therefore, the mutual respect of the dignity of each person is an important expectation in community. Members of a community will never bring their human potential to actuality unless there is a true respect 51~4 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 of that potential and the invitation to use it. There are many ways that we can demonstrate respect for one another in community. For example, it is important that we listen to one another when we speak. We do not have to agree with others, but the Gospel calls us to give others our full attention when they speak. For example, do 1 try to hear another's concern? Do I listen well enough to be able to feed back that concern, or am I busy formulating a response before I really hear what is being said? Do I try to be sensitive to nonverbal as well as verbal messages? Another form of respect would be to respect one another's privacy and .need for quiet, to respect one another's personal belongings. Examples of respect could be multiplied. It should be clear that without a mutual respect, little can be done to build a rich community experience. Honesty Honesty is one of the basic elements for building any type of relation-ship but especially a trust relationship. Since some level of trust is necessary for community, honesty is an important covenant expectation. The honesty about which I speak is not a harsh, brutal honesty but an honesty that proceeds from a loving and compassionate heart modeled on Jesus. It is an honesty based on the conviction that the truth will set us free (Jn 8:32). I find that the lack of honesty in community is one of the principal obstacles to real growth in the common heart and soul to which we are invited by the New Testament experience. Religious, in my experience, often have difficulty expressing and dealing with their true feelings, whether positive or negative. Fearful of phony affirmation, some religious are afraid to say what they like about their brothers and sisters. Others of us have difficulty accepting positive affirmation when it comes our way. We also have problems with negative feelings. Somehow we hope that they will go away or no one will notice. However, as we know, negative feelings generally do get expressed, sometimes in passive-aggressive behavior. I sometimes marvel at how long it takes us to express our negative feelings when a discussion of them could eliminate a great deal of tension. Our fear of confrontation can lead us to hold onto our negative feelings. But have we not also learned that the honest and charitable discussion of our feelings can lead to deeper and more understanding relationships? Some of my best friendships have come to fruition because I have honestly shared some negative feelings in a desire to create deeper relationships. Even when honesty has not led to deeper, relationship, the mutual understanding and respect has most often led to the lessening of tension. One of the greatest hurts for me in community is hearing criticism second hand. It bothers me Expectations in Religious Community because it means the possibility of deeper relationship is blocked. When we care enough for others to affirm and confront them honestly, there is a possibility of deeper relationship and for a union of hearts. Compassionate and loving honesty is not the only ingredient for unity in community. But no community can develop without it. Without an expe-rience of honesty, we can never feel secure enough to trust one another, and share on the level that bonds more deeply in our mutual covenant. Care The expectation of care flows from the call of the Gospel: "Whatever you do to the least of my brothers and sisters, you do unto me" (Mt 25:40). We are called upon to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, visit the sick (notice the Gospel does not say we must be attracted by them). We are asked to care. In community we should care about each of our brothers and sisters. We should care about their spiritual growth, their physical health, and their other needs for full life. It would be a tragedy in my mind if a brother in my community were in the hospital and none of us had the time to visit, if a brother was struggling with his commitment to celibacy and no one cared enough to talk to him about the issue, or if a brother was drinking himself into the grave and no one intervened. It is true that if we are not careful some can manipulate us in this area by trying to lay guilt on us. But that should not stop us from honestly giving of ourselves in care of others. In fact our care should lead us to challenge the manipulating brother or sister; it should lead us to challenge him or her firmly and compassionately to adult living. In order to avoid unreal expectations, it is important to distinguish care from friendship. Care and friendship are not the same. We can honestly care for a brother or sister who is not a friend. Friendship is a relationship of mutual attraction, sharing and trust. In Christian community, we can reasonably expect some care when we are sick or hungry or lonely. How-ever, we cannot demand friendship. We can offer the gift of care, love, and trust and hope for a response to that gift, but we must remember that these can never become a demand. Forgiveness Forgiveness is also an important expectation in community. We are all imperfect human persons in process towards fullness of life; we are reli-gious on a journey. Like St. Paul, we do the things we do not want to do and do not do the things we want to do. Therefore, we must be willing to forgive our brothers and sisters when they ask for forgiveness. Forgiveness does not necessarily mean to forget as some popular wisdom has it. But it 506 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 does mean to heal the events of our lives. Some of the hurts in our relationships with fellow community members may be hard to forget but healing will lead us to remember the events in a new way. We can grow to view these events as moments of grace in our relationship and remember them in that way. They become moments of reconciliation. So we need to forgive others and to forgive ourselves; we need others to forgive us. Both dynamics are necessary if we are to grow together in the common heart and soul of the New Testament ideal. Faithfulness Finally, I .feel we can expect faithfulness in community since we are made in the image and likeness of a faithful God. This faithfulness is expressed, for example, in community agreements and in the community mission. If, for our growth as a faith community, we agree to pray together in the morning and evening, then it is fair to expect members of the community to be present. If we agree to meet on Monday evening to develop and coordinate our common mission, then it is fair to expect that we will all be there for the meeting. If we decide to live simply by sharing the cooking, then we can expect all to share the task. Obviously we can make exceptions to an agreement. But those with whom we have made an agreement have a voice in the exception. For example, if we have agreed to do the cooking, and one member finds it difficult or impossible to do, he or she should share that with the community either at the time the agreement is made or when he or she finds out that it is impossible to fulfill the terms of the agreement. Then we can renegotiate the agreement in some way satisfactory or at least acceptable to all involved. We are made in the image and likeness of a faithful God; we should invite and challenge one another to be the faithful people we are capable of becoming. Conclusion There are probably other expectations that are fair and realistic in covenant community. But the ones developed in this article are essential if our community life is to have a healthy sense of security and is to be life-enhancing. Communities can even agree to more expectations of one another (times of prayer, sharing personal faith, simple living statements, and so forth). The important thing for developing a community of one mind and one heart is that expectations be as clear as possible. Without clear expectations we create an environment for tension and conflict. Clarified expectations will not lead to deep community life. This is only a start. As I mentioned at the beginning, expectations are not the only ingredient in good Christian religious community. I have found that good Expectations in Religious Community / 507 community goes beyond expectations. There are many attitudes that con-tribute to good community life: trust, generosity, patience, and so forth. In focusing on expectations, the most important attitude to keep in mind is generosity. "If your brother (or sister) asks you to go one mile, go two" (Mt 6:41). We should not count in community. We should not first be concerned about how others perform. We should examine our own per-formance. "Remove the plank from your own eye first; then you will see clearly to take the speck from your brother's (sister's) eye" (Mt 7:5). Our God is faithful to us even when we are unfaithful. To be a creative agent of community we must remain faithful to our covenant even when our brother or sister is unfaithful. We should be generous as our God in heaven has been generous with us. "Love one another as I have loved you" (1 Jn 15:12). God has taken the initiative in our lives; we are called to do the same for our brothers and sisters. If everyone is giving generously in community, we have the foundation on which deep Christian community can develop. We have the strongest foundation for a life of one mind and one heart. Friendship It seems but a word on this page. It cannot, does not, describe-- a patient listening, a gentle touch; soft, comforting nearness, forgiveness--waiting ready before the hurt, hilarity shared together (Snoopy-dancing--you are a crazy person, you know!) tears--hard-coming, yet trustingly dampen my heart, insights, thoughts, dreams, ESP?. yes! remembering--in prayer, close to my heart honest, pulling and dragging (sometimes fearfully) each the other-- forward, closer, faithful It cannot contain--my friend, my other self., this mere word Love. Sister Mary Therese Macys, S.S.C. 2601 W. Marquette Road Chicago, Illinois 60629 ToSee the Other Side. George J. Schemel, S.J. Father Schemel is founder and director of the newly formed Institute for Contempor-ary Spirituality at the University of Scranton (Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510). An earlier article of Father Schemel was "In Time of Consolation." which appeared in the issue of January/February, 1985. The need for enabling and empowering structures for groups increases as the group's complexity increases. There are just and unjust structures right within our own apostolic and community operations. To be insensitive to our own unjust structures and processes makes us less believable when we address such structures in society at large. The injustice is found in the very process of coming to decision. It is this unjust process that allows us to walk over the deeply held personal values of another. It is truly a personally oppressive structure, inefficient in method and leading to poor apostolic decisions. Yet it passes unnoticed and uncorrected because of ignorance and lack of awareness in this area, though often little personal culpability is involved. The objective wrong is great, however, and cannot be condoned just because of ignorance or lack of awareness. The average community meeting, with its amorphous structure and ill-defined processes is often a nightmare of unjust structures. In general there are few, if any, haphazardly just structures. What just structures and processes there are, flourish because of much examination, evaluation, and consistent implementation. Not to be consciously structured is usually to be unjustly structured. It is my observation and experience that most unjust structures in religious life, both on the one-to-one interpersonal level and on the level of . 5O8 To See the Other Side. / 509 the group apostolate or community, come from lack of "thinking" as this is understood in the Jungian perspective. This notion of thinking is character-ized by discursive logic and the isolation of variables. There are other sources of injustice in our apostolates and community life, of course,~ but none is so pervasive as this lack of thinking. The orientation and cast of our religious apostolates and communities are so overwhelmingly affective that the lack of formal thinking is not even noticed directly. We become aware of it only in its effects; the disruption and confusion caused by processes which largely ignore the thinking function. It is taken as axiomatic in the realm of interpersonal relationship that we must not hurt anyone's feelings. It is my contention that one's thinking is due the same respect and care; this is far from obvious in most religious circles today. I would like to present a proper process of coming to decision that will be just, efficient and phenomenologically correct. Reflecting on the process will also help "convict and convert" attitudes; unjust processes and atti-tudes will show up in high relief. The process will involve achieving consen-sus on different levels of an issue and moving through to a final decision. It will move from an assimilation of pertinent facts and data, through an appreciation of the interrelatedness, interconnections, and potentialities of the data and facts, through a discursive rationality of necessary causal nexus, to final judgment of fittingness and suitability. It will follow the functionally sequential "gradient of more difficult consensus." S--N--T--F In order to establish an adequate vocabulary with which to talk about this problem, I would like to call on the matrix of psychological types elaborated by C.G. Jung and its current popularization by the Myers Briggs Type Indicator (MBTI). I will give only a short summary here, and refer those interested in a further development of psychological types and the MBTI to other sources where a more complete understanding may be pursued.2 Those already very familiar with type theory may want to skip to page 513. Type Theory In order to account for certain consistencies and inconsistencies in behavior that he observed among different types of people, Jung elabo-rated his theory of psychological type. The theory, in essence, sees all conscious mental activity as reducible to two main processes, perception and judgment. Perception is a process of "becoming aware of."; of gathering data, taking in information. It is a non-rational process. We do this work of ~$'10 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 taking in data in one of two ways: either by "sensation" or by "intuition." Actually of course we use both these functions, Sensation and iNtuition, to gather in information, but we have a decided preference for one way or the other. We cannot take in data by both Sensation and iNtuition at the same time. At best, they can operate sequentially, but one way will be decidedly preferred to the other. (Note that it is common usage to indicate Sensation by "S" and intuition by "N'; 'T' is reserved for Introversion). Sensation is perception or data gathering by the concrete singular. It takes in specifics, by use of the five senses. It perceives things one at a time. Sensation is tolerant of routine, sameness, specified procedures. Sometimes it can't see the forest for the tree. Sensation has a present-time orientation. The other form of perception is intuition. It perceives in terms of patterns, relationships; intuition sees possibilities, interconnections, impli-cations. It is perception by way of the unconscious. INtuition likes variety, challenge, is future-time oriented. Sometimes it can't see the tree for the forest. Besides the non-rational perceptive functions Sensation and intuition which simply take in information and gather data, there are two rational functions, Thinking and Feeling. The rational functions prioritize, rank, sort out the data taken in. They hierarchize the information and make judgments on it. They come to closure on perceptions. These are the two judging functions whose work it is to come to conclusions about the data taken in. They are opposing ways of judging, and cannot proceed at the same time. At best they can be sequential.3 Thinking moves to conclusion from principles, logically attending to necessary connections and cause-effect relationships. Consistency and validity are important, and principles are applied objectively, "whether I like it or not." The value sought is "The True." Thinking has an a-temporal and un-contextualized time orientation. Feeling comes to conclusion by an associative process, by analogy, comparison, association. Harmony and suitability are important, and are judged from a more subjective stance. The value orientation is toward "The Good." Feeling has a past and traditional time orientation. One of these, either Thinking or Feeling, will be much preferred to the other for making judgments and coming to conclusions. It is important to note that we cannot use opposing functions at the same time. Sensing halts Intuiting; Intuiting halts Sensing. Thinking halts Feeling; Feeling halts Thinking. Neither can we perceive and judge at the same time. Judging halts perceiving; perceiving halts judging. Nor do we use all four functions with equal skill and confidence. Yet quality decisions are made only with the adequate contributions of all four functions. Indi- To See the Other Side. / 511 vidually and especially in groups, it is important to implement structures which assure the application of all four functions to any given issue. Since the natural autonomy, even antipathy, among the four functions precludes their being applied at the same time, they must be applied sequentially. A person will have an attitude toward the outside world that takes its cue from the judging functions (Thinking or Feeling) and will be called a Judging attitude, or he or she will have an attitude toward the outside world that takes its cue from the perceiving functions Sensation or iNtui- " tion) and will be called a Perceiving attitude. Note that both these attitudes, J and P, are toward the outside world. This attitude toward the outside world J or P is not to be confused with Extraversion or Introversion, which indicates the person's "preferred world." The preference for the world inside oneself--the world of ideas and thoughts and inner feeling is known as Introversion. Its opposite, a prefer-ence for the world outside oneself--the world of people, events, happen-ings, objects--is known as Extraversion. Both introverts and extraverts have an attitude, either J or P, toward the outside world. For a treatment of Extraversion and Introversion see Gifts Differing. A person's type is constituted in large part by his or her preference for one of the two perceiving functions, S or N, and one of the two judging functions, T or E The possibilities are: ST, SF, NT, NE One perceiving . function plus one judging function constitute the preferred functionality of the person. Of these two functions, however, one will be favored and preferred over the other. One will be the "boss" function, and the other the helper function. So an individual will be one of the following: ST, ST, SF, SF, NT, NT, NF, NF, where the underlined function is the "boss" or Dominant function and the other is the helper or Auxiliary function. The dominant function is the real rudder or kingpin of the psychological type. In "conflict of interest" cases, the dominant always gets its way. For an understanding of the Judging and Perceiving attitudes and the Extraverted and Introverted attitudes, which also throw much light on meeting dynamics, see some of the literature cited. There is a dangerous misunderstanding current concerning the Feeling function--"F"--among those who use the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator and the psychological matrix of C. G. Jung which undergirds it. It is widespread even among those who administer and teach the instrument. It is doubly dangerous because it leads to a misunderstanding of the correlate of Feeling, which is the Thinking function, "T." One frequently hears the (mistaken) pronouncements: "Feeling is interested in values, Thinking is interested in principles and logic." "Feeling is personal, Thinking is impersonal." Both of these statements are half- 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 truths, and therefore very dangerous and misleading. Let us analyze the Thinking and Feeling functions for a more accurate understanding than these too-easy assessments afford. To say that Feeling is interested in values and Thinking is interested in principles and logic is to compare apples and oranges, process and product. The value that attracts Feeling is "The Good." The value that attracts Thinking is "The True." The process used by Thinking is objective (in that sense impersonal) proceeding from principles, using logic and cause-and-effect relationships. The process of Feeling is a subjective (in that sense personal) associative process, a process of comparison, analogy, using per-sonal association and past experience. Neither Thinking nor Feeling in the first instance says anything about emotion. Emotion is the first register of value in the human person, whether that value is seen as coming under the aegis of "The Good," (Feeling), or as coming under the aegis of "The True" (Thinking). Both Thinking and Feeling according to Jung are rational functions. They both hierarchize, rank, come to closure, judge on the basis of the value that attracts them: The Good for Feeling and The True for Think-ing. Ideally, or one might say transcendentally, both The Good and The True are the same. But each person has a particular and delimited appreci-ation of that higher unity according as he or she judges by Thinking or by Feeling.4 An example may further help clarify and distinguish the Feeling func-tion from its first register of value, emotion. (The first register of value for the Thinking function is also emotion.) St. Thomas Aquinas addresses the question: "Whether Christ's mother remained a virgin after his birth?" (S.T. Ilia, Q.28, a.3) St. Thomas cites several well-known texts from Scripture that would indicate that Mary had other children after the birth of Jesus: Mt 1:18, 1:20, 1:24, Rm 8:29, Jn 2:12, Mt 27:55, Jn 19:25. He then puts together these last two texts to form an argument that Mary had other children after the birth of Jesus. Mt 27 says: "Many women were there [that is, by the cross of Christ] watching from a distance, the same women who had followed Jesus from Galilee and looked after him. Among them were Mary of Magdala, Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of Zebedee's sons." Thomas puts this together with the Jn 19 text: "There stood by the cross of Jesus, Mary his mother." It follows that if Mary the mother of Jesus who was standing by the cross and the Mary who was the mother of James and Joseph was the same Mary, then Mary had other children besides Jesus. St. Thomas takes care of the exegetical questions adroitly enough, so that Scripture is not gainsaid. The clinching reasons against Mary having other children after the birth of To See the Other Side. / 513 Jesus, however, are Feeling reasons, in the true sense of Feeling. He says it is unthinkable that Mary would have other children besides Jesus, because, ". as he [Jesus] is in his divine nature the only-begotten of the Father and his Son, perfect in every respect, so it was fitting that he should be the only-begotten of his mother, as being her perfect offspring." Another rea-son Thomas gives--a Feeling reason--is that it would make Mary seem ungrateful, not to be content with such a Son. Note that these are not the same kind of reasons given for Jesus not being the only child of Mary: If the Mary of Mt. 27 (mother of James and Joseph) Is the Mary of Jn 19 (the mother of Jesus) Then Jesus was not the only child of Mary. This is "T"--Thinking rationality. But ". as he was the only-begotten of His Father, so He was the only-begotten of His Mother" is not "T," Thinking rationality, it is "F," Feeling rationality. It is a reason from fittingness, appropriateness, seemliness; it is ~'becoming" that Jesus be the only child of Mary. This is the meaning of Feeling in the Jungian matrix and the Myers-Briggs. It is not emotion or feeling in the common parlance, but a judgment of fittingness, seemliness, becomingness. It is brought to bear after the Thinking judgment has done what it can with the data, not before Thinking or instead of Thinking. It is the ambit of "F," Feeling rationality, to historicize and contextual-ize the a-temporal judgment of "T," Thinking, but not replace it.5 Feeling needs to be fed and focused by the objectivity of Thinking. Otherwise one has inauthentic Feeling and a too subjective Feeling judgment. Thinking needs the completion of another rationality, one not necessitated by logic and cause-effect relationships, but personalized/subjectivized and opened out to a wider gestalt. Feeling, without the backbone of Thinking behind it, is purely subjec-tive, personal and, therefore, not interpersonal. It can indeed become emo-tion and not be a rationality of fittingness or suitability, but mere whim or fancy. This is what is meant by a "mood," which is not a personal expe-rience. The mood has the person rather than the person having the mood. It is the opening door to projections and confusion, especially in a group. Application to Meetings Equipped with this understanding of psychological functionality, let us reflect on the relatively unstructured or poorly structured meeting. The purpose of most group meetings is to come to some kind of consensus. That is why the meeting is held in the first place. Many come to a meeting assuming there is already a consensus on a given issue. This is 5111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 often more counterproductive than assuming that there is not. A consensus is a delicate affair; it is a "con-sentire," a "feeling-together-with." An assumption either that there is a consensus on a given issue or that there is not, is vastly disruptive of the possibility of arriving at a consensus. Since a consensus is a delicate affair, it must be wooed, as a lover is wooed. One has to have the tact to know where to begin to discover what consensus is there already, and to raise it to the level of insight and usabil-ity. An attempt to "build a consensus" on a given issue is counterproduc-tive. Rather, one first discovers what consensus actually exists, and brings that to consciousness and articulation. Once that consensus is recognized and owned, the scene is set to pass on to a higher level of "con-sentire." The process of arriving at consensus is not a "building"; this has too much the connotation of hammer and nail, muscular effort to persuade, even coer-cion. Rather, the process of arriving at consensus is one of discovery and articulation. Once a group (meeting) articulates a true consensus, it has already passed beyond it, and it is ready for the next discovery, the new and higher level of consensus. It must be, however, the articulation of a true consen-sus. It must not be assumed. It must be articulated and all must agree to the lower level of consensus before attempting to arrive at a higher level. Perhaps this will come as a surprise, after saying how delicate is the matter of arriving at consensus, and that one should not assume that there is a consensus on a given issue. There is, however, always a consensus in a group! Perhaps not on a given issue, or on the level of consensus one would like, but there is always a consensus in a group. Otherwise the group would not be meeting. This is the key assumption that I am making. A moment's thought will indicate that if a group (not a "crowd" or a "gang") comes together, it is coming together for a purpose. Implicit in this broad purpose are concrete points of consensus and a desire for further consensus. There already exists the consensus that "we want" a "con-sentire'" if at all possible. There is the further shared hope that we can arrive at a consensus on some particular issues. There are many other points of concrete consensus in the group also. (Deficiency in these attitudes will indicate the highly controlling or manipulative person.) The place to start looking for consensus on pro-gram level issues is here, among the patterns of consensus that already are resident in the group. A group does not arrive at a consensus by building from the top down any more than a construction company builds a building from the top down. One starts from the bottom up. One begins at the bottom and works up. Whenever a group can articulate a consensus, it has already passed beyond it and is ready for the next level of insight and consensus. Once it To See the Other Side. / 515 has articulated and owned that next level of insight and consensus, it is ready for the next, and so on. Thus the group is moving toward its limit of consensus consciousness bit by bit--by articulating known levels of con-sensus and allowing the group to find its way to ever higher and more specific and programmatic levels of con-sentire. A functional, structural way to help a group move from a lower and perhaps largely unconscious level (myth level) of consensus to an ever higher level of programmatic consensus is to follow the natural order of perceiving, then judging. The schema herein suggested implicitly takes into account dominant and auxiliary functions and introverted and extraverted functions. Since coming to a consensus judgment implies a need to perceive in order to judge, there is a "natural" sequential order to arriving at quality decisions, whether personal or group decisions. Perceiving comes before judging. In attempting to unearth any resident consensus in the group and free it to move toward higher levels of programmatic consensus, the natural sequential dependence of the functions should be followed: S--N--T--F The group, just as an individual, will have a strong bias to spend time and energy in its Dominant and Auxiliary functions. It sometimes wants to wallow in its Dominant, without using even its Auxiliary, let alone using its non-preferred functions. It is here too that many religious groups with a preponderance of people with a preference for "F" rationality unwittingly thwart their own process of coming to consensus. Almost always they begin looking for consensus on the "F" level. This is to begin the process at its end-point! Each individual has a preference for one of the two perceiving func-tions (either Sensation or iNtuition), and one of the two judging functions Thinking or Feeling) already established in the Dominant and Auxiliary (with an inclination more toward perceiving or more toward judging). Most often, the importance of the other perceiving function and the other judging function is not recognized. Yet these less preferred functions are also necessary not only for quality decision making, but even for adequate decision making. Thus a person who is an NT will naturally prefer to do his perceiving by iNtuition and his judging by Thinking; but he needs the help of Sensate perception and Feeling judgment if his decisions are to be quality decisions, reflecting the objectivity and contextuality of sensate perception and feeling rationality. So with all the various preferences. 516 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 Both Sensate and intuitive perception are necessary for judging. Intui-tion depends on Sensate details, however slightly noted, for registering Intuitive connections and possibilities. The Sensate process may be less conscious, but the Sensate function is always at work recording sensate impressions. The Intuitive process may be less conscious, but the intuitive function is always registering connections and relations among sensate data perceived. Even when the Thinking function is not preferred or developed, the Thinking function first examines intuited connections and possibilities and determines inevitable cause-effect consequences. Whether carefully attended to or slight and unobserved, the Thinking function provides the Feeling function with an an.alysis of what has been perceived. The Feeling function receives what has been thus perceived and judged, and examines it in the light of contextual suitability. Whether carefully attended to or slight and unobserved, the Feeling function completes the judgment of present per-ceptions and present consequences in their historical context and in terms of the rationality of suitability, appropriateness, fittingness. Just as each individual has her profile and preferences, so a group has its profile and its preferences. The group profile is the sum and extrapola-tion of the profiles of the individuals who compose it.6 The disciplined group asks its members to first "S" it on a given issue, to use the Sensate function. Get the raw data. Get the concrete informa-tion. While doing this, those who naturally prefer "S" as their perceiving function are in their element, and the Intuitives are asked to stretch a bit, as the whole group strives .to assimilate the Sensate data. Once that task is accomplished, the Sensate data is handed over to intuitive perception to see the possibilities inherent in the data; to see the interconnections and implications and future potentialities. During this part of the group's task the iNtuitives will be in their element and the Sensates will be required to do the stretching now. But it is a temporary inconvenience for a permanent improvement; the group now knows "what it is talking about." The issue has been perceived with no prejudice as to function; all perceptions have been honored. We have moved thus in the natural sequence: S~N Now comes a big moment. It is time to hand over the matter perceived to judgment. Here the group must be very careful that it does not get into the final Feeling judgment. It is not yet asking the final question, the "go or no-go" decision. It is not asking yet "what will the traffic bear?" Or "should we do it or not?" It is asking for the Thinking judgment of the group to be applied. It is looking for inevitable consequences, cause-effect relation- To See the Other Side. / 517 ships, what are the necessities involved. Symbolically it can be represented like this: S--N--T Perceiving is finished, and the group is entering into the first stage of judgment, Thinking judgment. Now all are asked to "T" it--to use Think-ing judgment. Here those who naturally prefer Thinking judgment for coming to closure and conclusion are in their element, and those who prefer Feeling judgment are asked to stretch a bit. If this phase is neglected, even those who naturally prefer the Feeling function for their decision making will feel restless and insecure in their Feeling judgment. It will be almost intolerable for those who naturally prefer the Thinking function for their decision making if this phase is slighted; as intolerable for Thinkers as it would be for Feelers if no Feeling function were ever brought to bear. A Thinker might well be feeling: "I won't hurt your feeling if you don't hurt my thinking." That is, there are certain aspects of rationality that must be taken care of or the Thinker is "stuck"; he can't go forward. He cannot proceed to a "con-sentire,"a feeling-together-with, to a fruitful and con-textualized judgment of fittingness--the Feeling judgment. Having done its perceiving by both Sensation and intuition, and handed the matter thus perceived over to the first phase ofjudgment--"T" rationality, the group is now ready to pass on to the final and most difficult phase of consensus seeking, that of Feeling rationality. S--N--T--F In this phase the judgments of fittingness, suitability, appropriateness are in order--but not before this phase. This is the ". all things consid-ered, this is where I am" time. But a group should not be in that time unless it has passed through the previous three phases in sequence. This is in accord with what was said above--letting the group move upward from consensus to consensus from the lower to the higher "con-sentire." Note that moving according to the sequential dependence of the functions: S--N--T--F is following "the gradient of more difficult consensus." The easiest area to find consensus is in the sensate data. It is the area most open to "consensus consciousness." Sensate data is available to the five senses, is the most objective kind of perception and is least open to subjective and idiosyn-cratic interpretation. There is no judgment involved; it is simply reporting "the facts." Next in order of ease of arriving at consensus consciousness is 5111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 still perception, but now iNtuitive perception. INtuitive perception takes in many things that "are not there" for Sensate perception--interconnections, relatedness, future possibilities--yet which can be assimilated by Sensation rather easily once they are pointed out. Now comes "the great divide." Moving into the area of judgment poses a new level of difficulty in coming to consensus consciousness. Though Thinking judgment, the fir~st phase of rational judgment, is more objective than Feeling judgment, it is still a quantum leap in trying to arrive at consensus here over against consensus in perception. Still, there are cause-effect relationships and necessary consequences, and a compelling logic to help find the consensus in this area of Thinking rationality. S--N--T The most difficult area for consensus consciousness to emerge is in the area of Feeling judgment. This is the most personal-subjective area of judgment--the judgments of fittingness, suitability, appropriateness-- "what I like"; "what I want." Still, a true suitability and appropriateness can unify and focus a group, especially if the prior phases of Sensate and iNtuitive perception and Thinking rationality have prepared the way. S--N--T--F The various levels of consensus, of con-sentire, are, again, not some kind of equality in emotional states, but an experience of union in the proper object of the function S or N or T or F. It may, further, be an experience of union in the transcendental concern of that function--The One, The Beautiful, The True, The Good. This latter was briefly treated in the Essay on The Constructive Use of Differences. Thus, to go against or violate the "gradient of more difficult consensus" is self-defeating. Many religious groups immediately jump in to the area of Feeling judgment in considering an issue, and try to begin the consensus seeking process at its end-point. They move directly against the gradient of consensus. They go against traffic on a one-way street, and leave all kinds of mayhem and injustice in their wake. If a group hopes to focus and harness the energies and commitment of its members in a consensus decision by a process that does justice to all, following the gradient of consensus, S -- N -- T ~ F will prove a graced and productive structure. Summary In this article 1 have tried to point out: 1) Religious groups that are composed mostly of people who prefer To See the Other Side. / 519 Feeling rationality to Thinking rationality should be especially careful to employ structures that invite the contribution of Thinking rationality to decision making. Truly unjust structures can ensue from this neglect. 2) Feeling judgment in the Jungian and MBTI matrices is not emotion or sentiment; it is a judgment of suitability or appropriateness, and has noetic reference. Emotion is the first register of value for both Thinking and Feeling. 3) Consensus is a "con-sentire," a "feeling-together-with." There is always a consensus in a convening group. This resident consensus is the place to start in seeking further consensus. By the process of articulating what consensus is present in the group, the group has already passed beyond that consensus and is moving toward a new and higher level of consensus. 4) Following the sequential dependence of the functions, the "gradient of more difficult consensus" S -- N -- T -- F is a graceful structure in group work, and its understanding and application can greatly help the attitudes and contributions of those involved. NOTES tOne thinks of course of projecting our own neglected psychic concerns on others, stereotyping, transferences, and so forth. These are always present, especially, but by no means exclusively, where men and women work together. 2See Isabel Briggs Myers, with Peter B. Myers, Gifts Differing, (Palo Alto: Consulting Psychologists Press, 1980); Isabel Briggs Myers, Introduction to Type, (Gainsville: Center for Applications of Psychological Type, 1980); George J. Schemel and James A. Borbely, Facing Your Type, (Wernersville: Typrofile Press, 1982); C.G. Jung, Psy-chological Type, vol. 6, Bolingen Series XX, (Princeton, Princeton University Press, 1971). 3"Rational judgment is based not merely on objective but also on subjective data. The predominance of one or the other factor, however, as a result of psychic disposition often existing from early youth, will give the judgment a corresponding bias. A judg-ment that is truly rational will appeal to the objective and the subjective factor equally and do justice to both. But that would be an ideal case and wouldpresuppose an equal development of both extraversion and introversion. In practice, however, either movement excludes the other, and, so long as this dilemma remains, they cannot exist side by side but at best successively. Under ordinary conditions, therefore, an ideal rationality is impossible." C. G. Jung, Psychological Types [644]. 4Noting the correspondence of the four transcendentals with the four functions is not Jung's observation, but my own. The One--Sensation; the Good--Feeling; the Beauti-ful- Intuition; the True--Thinking. See Facing Your Type, pp. 3 and 4. 5George J. Schemel and James A. Borbely, Facing Your Type, (Wernersville: Typrofile Press, 1982), pp. I l- 12. 6See Facing Your Type, pp. 17-20. Religious Charism: Definition, Rediscovery and Implications Jean Marie Renfro, S.S.S. This article is based on a talk given by Sister Renfro, of the Sisters of Social Service, at a regional meeting last fall of California's Catholic Conference (CCC), the CMSM and the LCWR. Sister Renfro may be addressed at her residence: 1120 Westchester Place; Los Angeles, California 90019. We are indebted to Paul of Tarsus for putting the word charism into our religious vocabularies. We are indebted to Paul VI for giving the expression a specific meaning for us as religious women and men.~ Although Paul the Apostle used the Greek charismata a number of times, and it was often translated into Latin as "gift" or "grace," the most striking use of the word is in his first letter to the Corinthians? The classic passage speaks of (a) the great variety of gifts, (b) which the Spirit gives, (c) each one different from the other, (d) each given for the common good, (e) each given for the building up of the Body of Christ. The apostle makes a key point: he is not speaking of the baptismal grace of the presence of the Holy Spirit which belongs to all baptized Christians, but of special gifts given people with special missions. The passage is not so much about gifts as it is about the Spirit who gives the charismata. That Spirit is the one whom Jesus describes as wind which blows where it will; that Spirit whom Luke says is like a dove, a bird which takes off and flies; that Spirit who in Acts is fire and in John is living water. Now wind, fire, water are hard to contain, hard to pin down. In speaking of religious charism the underlying, fundamental premise is that Religious Charism / 52"1 we are in the realm of that unpredictable Holy Spirit. Charism was not a commonly used word down the ages, but it did strike a chord in the hearts of the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council, who used it in the same sense as did the Apostle Paul. By choosing the expression a number of times, although never in relation to religious life, they made it quite clear that the special gifts of the Spirit are not restricted to the apostolic community. Having defined the Church as the People of God, Lumen Gentium points out that there are special graces of the Spirit ("apart from the sacraments and the ministrations of the Church") which are distributed "among the faithful of every rank," gifts which make the people "fit and ready to undertake the renewal, and whether these charisms be very remarkable or more simple and widely diffused., they are fitting and useful for the needs of the Church." At the end of the passage bishops are charged with judging the genuineness and proper use of these charisms and at the same time they are reminded that their office is not to extinguish the Spirit.3 The renewal of the Church then, while under the guidance of the bishops, is truly the work of God the Holy Spirit. Religious Charisms Now if charisms are given "to the faithful of every rank," it follows that religious must also receive the Spirit's special grace. In November 1964 that seemed an obvious enough statement and it caught no one's attention. Neither Lumen Gentium's Chapter VI on religious, nor Perfectae Caritatis (October 1965) specifically used the word charism in relation to religious life; however, the concept of charism, of special gifts given for the development of religious life, was not new. For centuries there had been a common belief that the founding persons of religious communities were the recipients of special grace. The Jesuit, Jerome Nadal, writing in 1554 said: When God wants to help his Church, he first raises up a person and gives him or her a special grace and impulse under which he or she may serve God in a particular manner. This is what he did in the case of St. Francis: God gave him a particular grace for his personal growth as well as for his companions . In the same way he raised up Ignatius and granted him a grace, and through him to us . ,,4 For a millennium, pope after pope had commented on the unique gifts given to this founder, and (after a few centuries) to that foundress. This concept, together with the direction the council documents had taken, surely paved the way for the expression used by Paul VI in his Apostolic Exhortation, Evangelica Testificatio, On the Renewal of Religious Life. The Pope said that religious who wish to be faithful to the teaching of the council are those who, seeking God before all else, combine contempla- 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 tion with apostolic love. He continued: "By the former they cling to God in mind and heart; by the latter they strive to associate themselves with the work of redemption and to spread the kingdom of God. Only in this way you will be able to reawaken hearts to truth and to divine love in accordance with the charism of your founders, who were raised up by God within his Church."5 (Emphasis mine) The expression has been used again and again in subsequent papal docu-ments. Evangelica Testificatio was dated June 29, 1971, and countless communities were already well into the work of renewal. To understand what that phrase, "charism of your founders," meant and has come to mean to us, it is necessary to look for a moment at religious life in the 50s. The Leveling of Religious Life for Women The following observations may not apply to men's communities. They flow from my own experience of two dozen women's communities with whom I worked closely and sometimes stayed between 1953 and 1968. If anything can be said of religious women when the council began, it must be that we were faithful. We were faithful to the Church, to the pope, to our foundresses, to our constitutions, and to our communities. We meticulously kept the rule, performed our apostolates, learned to walk, to write, to speak and to dress exactly as Mother Mary Someone did one hundred, or perhaps two hundred years before somewhere in Europe. We kept her customs to perfection, whether or not they made any sense in our culture, because we believed that was what God and the Church asked of us. Consider one example among many. Visualize a group of healthy American women, some with Ph.D.s, sitting at table in silence, passing around a pan of suds to wash their dishes. No wonder we were the quaint little nuns! We reverenced everything about our lives. And everything had equal value. The special gifts which the Spirit gave the foundress were on a par with how people in her culture peeled potatoes. We were equally careful about both. Everything was leveled. Our special charism, our uniqueness, our gifts from the Holy Spirit were lost in a sea of trivia. We could have invented Trivial Pursuit. Nor was that totally our fault. In a sense the whole Church behaved in that way. We were taught to give the same credence to the teaching on Limbo and the doctrine of Resurrection. Recently I had an experience which let me see in an instant how communities lost sight of their charisms. I went to Sequoia National Park on a field trip with a geographer, who on the way up pointed out character-istics of various trees to be found in the forest we would visit. He described the giant sequoias, the biggest, the oldest trees in the world. Trees which live for two thousand years, but trees with a very shallow root system, Religious Charism having roots which extend from the trunk for yards, but always very near the surface. Because of this shallowness the sequoia needs a fire from time to time to clear the surface brush so that its roots can get the necessary nutrients. The tree itself is protected from fire by a very heavy bark with a high content of tanic acid. The sequoia is totally different from the juniper, which has an extremely long tap root, quite capable of making its way through granite, thus allowing the juniper to live on the edge of a precipice, to survive comfortably where the sequoia would never take root. Each tree has a wholeness in itself, its own beauty, its own reflection of the creative magnitude of God. I had been thinking about charism for a long time and the parallel was obvious. A few hours later I was walking in the forest, caught up in its lavish-ness. For a moment I was alone, in silence and in awe, when the silence was broken by a voice coming from the trail below me. Someone said, "Oh, sequoias, junipers, cedars--to me they are all just trees!" In an instant that person had leveled the wonders of that forest to just trees. Gone the marvelous integrity of each species. They were all just trees. That is what happened to women's communities before the Council called us to search for our own charism. We were all leveled to be just "the sisters." First everything in our lives was of equal importance, and secondly, we might as well have been one gigantic community. We knew we were different from one another and meant by God to be different, but it was an intuitive kind of knowl.edge, with not much to support it. To the rest of the world we were distinguished from one another only by some aspect of our dress. (And when we started studying the Gospels we found that the only group distinguished by its clothing had broad phylacteries and long tassels.) Frequently we did not even have a name. People, including our clerical brothers, simply said, "Sister," and we replied. Canon law leveled us still further, qqaere were pages and pages of canons that required communities of women to do things in a uniform way. Communities founded in the twentieth century ended up with virtually the same constitution as all the others, with only a paragraph, or at best a page which pertained to itself alone. I once indexed our constitution and was astounded that a Society called Sisters of Social Service had only one reference to social welfare. One final word about the leveling process. The Vatican Council, in telling us to find our own integrity, our own identity, called a sudden, sharp halt to the leveling, at least for a time. But it does continue. People find it easier to deal with, or perhaps to dismiss, the quaint little nun in her medieval garb than they do with many of today's religious women. We have educated ourselves about our charisms and their implications, but we 594 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 have not educated others. Having gone through much to discover and attempt to be faithful to our own charisms, it is painful to have people-- sometimes those who should understand--seemingly seek to level us again. For example, while I greatly admire Teresa of Calcutta, it is problematic to see her work and her way of life held up as the ideal for our day. It is the leveling process at work again; we do not all have the same charism. The Call to Renew In 1962, when the Holy Spirit and John XXIII convoked the Council, most of that amorphous mass called "the sisters," absolutely dedicated to faithfulness to the Church, were quite ready to do as we were asked--to undertake an interior renewal and to make exterior adaptations suitable to our own time. No one .yet spoke of "charism" as the Council Fathers presented us with the now famous steps to renewal. First, since the "final norm of religious life is the following of Christ as it is put before us in the Gospel, this must be taken as its supreme rule by all institutes." In other words, we were told to go back to Scripture and make it, like the Eucharist, our daily bread. Secondly, the Council Fathers were at pains to point out in several passages that there is a "wonderful variety of religious communi-ties," and that variety needed to be reemphasized. To bring about renewal we were to seek the authentic spirit of our individual founding persons, but what exactly did that mean, and how were we to go about it? Finally, since the whole Church had to learn to read and respond to the signs of the times, certainly we did, too. But how were we to adapt our lives to the changed conditions without destroying ourselves, since we saw our lives as a seamless garment. Entering into the work renewal asked of us, sparked a variety of responses in the early days. Some said we do not need to renew; we have never departed from the vision and way of life of our founder. Some women's communities, desirous of becoming fully competent in ministry, were already into Sister Formation, and were hungry for what renewal promised. We were at various stages of our journey when in 1971, Paul VI, in Evangelica Testificatio, spoke of the charism of your founders. The expression was noticed immediately because it shed great light on our search for the authentic spirit of the founder, for ''the primitive inspira-tion of the institute." By definition, charism is gift from the Spirit, generally for the good of others, but sometimes a personal gift as well. Charismata, if accepted and freely given back to the People of God, build up the Church. The concept of "charism of the founder" narrowed the focus of our search from the founder's whole way of life to how God worked in him. It led us to concentrate on the way the Spirit gifted the foundress, rather than on the Religious Charism / 525 accidents of her culture. To be told by the Church that the cultural mores of another age were not essential to our vocation was at once startling and freeing. Never again could everything about our life be valued equally. It now became urgent that we rediscover our unique identity, that we sort out the charism from the cultural traditions. Simultaneously we searched the past and the present. I suspect many communities shared the experience of my own community, the Sisters of Social Work. It seemed perfectly evident that if there is such a thing as a community charism, then it must somehow be lived by us, its members. We looked around and we were/are all so different. We asked what do we hold in common? What we shared was so obvious that we missed it at first. We did not know that we knew who we are. We did know that we were founded by women already working to alleviate and prevent social evils, and we knew we would die out if we ever ceased to fight contemporary social problems. We knew that since we often work alone on uncharted paths our ministry demanded an attentiveness to the Spirit. We knew that we were not Benedictine sisters, yet our spirit is powerfully influenced by the Benedictine tradition. We knew we were not Religious as such, but rather members of a Society of Common Life (now "Apostolic Life"). Different as we were, we shared these elements with each other; gradually we realized they came from our foundresses and define us. The late 70s were a time when many communities, struggling to find their true identity, finally understood that they did know their own unique essence, that they did know more of their own integrity than they could easily verbalize. But first many questions had to be answered. Charism and the Gospel One of the first questions with which we had to come to grips was how the Gospel, now the supreme rule of our lives, related to our charism. Some of us, overwhelmed with a new reading of the Word of God, asked why do we need anything more than the Gospel? Is not everything necessary for renewal right there? It was an honest question, for indeed it is all there. But everything needed for a holy life in any lifestyle is there. The G0spel points the way for all invited to Christian baptism, not just for religious. Then it became clear. No one person, no one community could manifest all the attributes of the Lord. Each religious family reflects a particular aspect, or a particular combination of aspects of the Gospel. Margaret Slachta, the foundress of the Sisters of Social Service, some fifty years ago, spoke of the concept of charism, although she did not name it as such. She said: God has all perfection. It's as if the perfections of God are a great globe 526 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 and religious communities are a thousand mirrors reflecting one or other of the divine attributes. The Franciscans reflect the spirit of poverty to a world always attracted to riches. The Dominicans reflect truth to a world ever flirting with error, while we reflect the sanctifying love of God to a world which does not know the Spirit.6 All of us need the Gospel as the final measuring rod of our lives, but each community needs its own special gift or specific combination of Gospel attributes or gifts from the Spirit to give it its own identity. The Founding Charism A unique gift or combination of gifts was originally the special charism of our founding mothers or fathers. That raised many questions which needed answers.7 What aspects of the Gospel were especially attractive to our founder? What ignited a flame in the heart of our foundress? What combination of Christian characteristics makes this religious family different from that one? These questions sent us scurrying back to our earliest documents, back through legend and history to the flesh-and-blood men and women through whom God gave us life. To clearly describe our founding charism it was necessary to go back to the founding person's historic life, necessary to learn the culture, the social and political situation in which the founder awoke to a personal call from God. It was necessary to see how the foundress responded to the signs of her times. We searched our primary sources with new eyes as we sought to find how the Spirit of God was manifested to our founding persons. What was the conversion experience from which there was no turning back? Was it in a cave like Subiaco or Manresa, or as with the foundress of my community, after coming home from a colorful, exciting ball in a luxurious salon in Budapest? How was the challenge met? How did the person read the message? What did Benedict or Francis or Dominic or Ignatius or John Bosco intend as they gathered disciples, as they structured a way of life which would allow their disciples to experience God as they had? What was the intent of Angela Merici, Louise de Marillac, Catherine McCauley, Elizabeth Seton, Frances Cabrini, or Margaret Slachta as they found like-minded women and began to pray with them, began to prepare them to attack some grave need felt by the People of God? We found life-giving answers to our questions. We discovered the why our founders did what they did, and the how was no longer so important. Most of their customs were the ordinary customs of their day. Take clothing for example. Many founding persons, both women and men, in many different centuries and different places wore the oridinary clothing of the poor or of the common people of their time. What they wore was the least Religious Charism / 527 of their concerns. Of course the "why" and the "hows" of the past brought us up sharply to the present and another set of questions. How does the present moment relate to what the founder was all about? In our great faithfulness to the foundress, to her customs and her way of doing things, did we lose sight of her vision? What would the founder do if called by God to begin the community now, today? Which of the foundress' gifts are being incarnated in the members of the community today? We have become very aware that the heart of the charism given our founding person must be enfleshed in our time or we have no deep ties with our roots. In our communities we are very conscious of our diversity, of the richness of personality of our members. Each of us comes with valued and often unique gifts from the Spirit which become the treasure of the whole community, yet we are also aware that we share, and in a radical way, the attraction, the charism of our founding person. Personal Charism of the Founder/Foundress Most communities discovered that the charism of the founding person was somewhat different from the charism of the community itself. Some gifts of the Spirit were for the foundress alone, some aspects of the founder's charism necessary only to the work of foundation, some strengths needed to give life to the new group in its formative years. In seeking out our own individual roots many of us became very conscious that the founder's specific time in history was so unlike our own, that the foundress brought the community to life often out of a specific need of her culture which does not exist in our technological age. Again it became evident that customs, manner of responding to need, which were a part of the initial environment in which the community was created, may have been a part of the personal charism of the foundress, but were not a part of the community's charism. If the charism is at the heart of the community's identity then the charism must transcend both the time and the culture in which the community was founded. Elements of Religious Charism The charism of a religious community is that gift or combination of gifts which God the Holy Spirit gave to the founding person so that the community might come into existence in the first place. The gifts reflect certain attributes of God, or in more contemporary language, aspects of the Gospel which the founding person lived out in her or his life. The gifts were given for the common good, to build the Body of Christ in the time in which they were first manifested. This gift, or special combination of girls, 5211 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1986 is not limited by time or culture and is found in, and is enfleshed by, the present-day followers of the founding person, enabling them to live his or her vision in our own time. The charism gives the community its basic identity, provides it with its own wholeness, gives it its own unique meaning within the total family of religious institutes. Because the charism is the gift of the Spirit, its expression is never static, it can lead a group in unpredict-able ways, and as the bishops were told in Mutuae Relationes, Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Religious, sometimes it can be quite trouble-some to deal with.8 Founders, foundresses and their religious communities have generally discovered that following one's charism usually involves a risk, always a challenge, and not infrequently, misunderstanding. As initially the primitive charism did not bring riches, honor, power, neither does its rediscovery. Charism and Daily Life If we want a wholeness about our lives, consciously or unconsciously we take our charism into consideration in all that we do. Formation personnel should be very clear about the community's charism, should test candidates precisely in the area of the charism. In the matter of the vows which the new members will take, we profess the evangelical counsels within the context of a particular religious family with its own particular charism. We understand our vows and live out our vocation as the com-munity understan

Issue 27.6 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 61~2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania xgxo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; .539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1968 by R~;vIEW :-'OR RELIGIOUS at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Marl,'l_and. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two )-ears; other countries: 55.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW VOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests sbould include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 91203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a rernitlan¢e should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 4~)8 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REvIEw FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint ~-ouis, Missouri 63103. Questions for aoswermg should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. NOVEMBER 1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 6 FRANCISCAN FRIARS OF THE ATONEMENT Provisional Constitutions [Editor's Note: REvIEw FOR RELIGIOUS is grateful to the Very Reverend Michael F. Daniel, S.A., superior general of the Franciscan Friars of the Atonement, who kindly granted per-mission to the REvmw to print the text of the Friars' pro-visional constitutions approved by the 1967-1968 general chap-ter. The REVIEW would also be grateful to any religious order or congregation who would send in copies of their revised consti-tutions (along with any relevant material that may seem partic-ularly important). Although it would be impossible to print all of such constitutions and materials in the REvIEw, all of them will be kept on file at the REVIEw as a recordof the creativity of American religious and each will be carefully con-sidered for printing in the REvIEw as samples of representative constitutions now being drawn up by U.S.A. religious. Copies of such revised and provisional constitutions and related docu-ments should be sent to: R. F. Smith, S.J., Editor; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, M!ssouri 63103.] . INTRODUCTION THE SOCIAL STRUGTURE OF THE COMMUNITY 1. In the Mystical Body of Christ we have the perfect image of what the religious community should be in its way of life and order. In the body we have the head and all the members. Each has a task to serve the good of the whole in subordination to the head. From the unity of all the members with the head a well ordered community, a healthy body is derived. This harmonious coordination of head and members is the practical basis of true unity in a religious community. It is, then, the principle to be fol-lowed by all the .Friars in exercising their responsibility within the Community. 2. Adaptation is always a part of the religious life. If undertaken carefully it ensures maximum vigor and efficacy within the Community. In order for the whole Community to periodically renew itself each General Chapter shall review the,~con-tents of the Book of General Statutes. The General Chap- + Constitutions~ VOLUME 27/1968 979 ter is the only competent authority to formulate, elimi-nate or modify in any way the General Statutes of the Community. Changes in the Constitutions may be effected by the Holy See alone. The General Chapter, by a two-thirds majority vote, has the right to request such changes. Authentic inteipretation of the Rule and Constitutions is reserved to the Holy See, that of the Book of General Statutes to the General Chapter. PART I CHAPTER I THE NATURE OF THE COMMUNITY AND ITS SERVICE TO THE CHURCH 3. The Friars of the Atonement are a community of re-ligious in the Franciscan tradition, committed to living an intensive form of the Christian life, following the inspira-tion given by their Founder, Father Paul James Francis (Lewis T. Wattson), and existing specifically to help ful-fill the Church's mission of Christian Unity by engaging in ecumenism, which is the work of restoring the visible unity of all Christians, and by bearing witness to the Gos-pel through mission activity among Christians and non- Christians. + 4. + Friars the Atonement REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 98O 4. As envisioned by their Founder, the ideal of unity in all its aspects should guide and direct the lives of the Friars. They are to seek unity with God and unity with one another; they are to preserve unity within the Church, promote true and complete unity among all Christians and bring all men into the fullness of unity with the People of God. The common calling of all the Friars is the Christian Unity vocation. By Christian Unity the Friars understand the various efforts to promote the unity of all Christians and also mission activity among Christians, restoring or strengthening their oneness with God and with one another, and bearing witness to the Gospel among non- Christians to achieve the unity of all men with God, for "it is God Who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the work of handing on this reconciliation" (II Cor. 5:17). 5. Promoting Christian Unity by prayer, sacrifice and work, personal and corporate, is the apostolate of the Friars of the Atonement. Since the Church is deprived of that fullness of unity willed by Christ, when divisions exist among Christians, the Friars will make every effort to contribute toward healing these divisions. In the spirit of the Founder the Friars are to seek opportunities for ecumenical involve-ment as the principal dimension of activity in the Com-munity and the principal mark of identity for the Community, whether they 'are at home or abroad, whether they are working among Christians or non- Christians. Acting out of the innermost requirements of her own catholicity, and in obedience to the mandate of Christ, the Church strives to proclaim the Gospel to all men. The work of evangelization both strengthens and extends the unity of the Church. For this reason the Friars devote a generous portion of personnel to spreading the Gospel among peoples where it is not known, and preserving and revivifying it where it is in danger of being lost. 6. The effectiveness of the Community depends on a common spirit and mutual cooperation. All the activities of the Community have an obvious relationship and any disjunction between them ought to be avoided. 7. In order that their service to the Church be both au-thentic and effective the Friars strive in all they do to be deeply loyal to Christ and His Church. In the Franciscan tradition they express this particularly by their fidelity to the Vicar of Christ, by their reverence towards all Bishops, by the honor they show to all priests and by their dedicated service to all the People of God. CHAPTER II t~ELIGIOUS PROFESSION 8. Religious life is a sign of the Church, the Community of God's People gathered together visibly and effectively bearing witness to His saving work. Its purpose is union with God, the pursuit of perfect charity through the following of Christ and service to the Church. For the Friars this, especially, means preparing the way for recon-ciliation of all men with the Triune God. 9. The Friars of the Atonement, as religious, seek in com-munity to respond to their common vocation by conse-crating themseh, es to the work of developing to the maxi-mum the state of sonship of God received in baptism. In responding to this call the Friars, individually and com-munally, enter into a covenant of trust and confidence in God's promises and seal that covenant on their own part by professing the evangelical counsels lived in community. ÷ ÷ Constitutions VOLUME 27, 1968 10. The act of religious profession for the Friar means that he ,willingly frees himself and willingly dedicates himself to live more profoundly according to the Holy Gospels. Evangelical life consists in the realistic accep-tance of salvation effected by the death and resurrection of Christ and the sending of the Holy Spirit; it consists in accepting God's design for men, that is, His will for all men to be at one with Him; it means to live according to the renewed condition of man to whom in Christ Jesus has been given the grace of sonship. 11. To live the religious life is to witness to the fact that true life in Christ can be realized and that holiness is possible for all to achieve. The Friars, therefore, profess the evangelical counsels to express their own and the Community's total commitment to the mission of Christ in the world and to witness to the Pilgrim Church's active expectation of Christ's Second Coming, when all things will be made at-one with God in Christ. Celibacy 12. Religious are especially called to witness to the Christian's baptismal death and new life to which they are raised in the Spirit. The Friars of the Atonement pro-fess the vow of celibacy precisely because it allows them to give expression to this mystery, or freedom won for us by Christ, which both enables and requires the Christian to love and serve God and man. The vow of celibacy is the positive choice to observe chastity in the unmarried state for the sake of Christ and for the sake of His life's work: the establishment of the Kingdom of God. By the vow of celibacy each Friar con-secrates himself in his aifective life to the Lord who is the revelation of the Father's love (Jn. 15:13) and who enables the Friar to respond with his own love so that he too can lay down his life for the brethren (Jn. 3:16). Friars A tonertumt REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 13. Christian celibacy is a gift from the Holy Spirit. If lived fully, celibacy witnesses to the love of Christ for His Church, to the real possibility of a perfect human com-munity founded on Christ's love, and finally to that per-fect union with God which will be man's when the King-dom of God is fully realized. Perseverance in the celibate life demands a life of self-denial and discipline, a deep personal prayer life and an abiding trust in the sufficiency of God's grace. Poverty 14. The Friars profess the vow of poverty to express their faith and trust in their Heavenly Father, Who provides for all who seek first the Kingdom of God and His justice, and to be at one with Christ Who "had no place to lay his head" (Matt. 8:20). 15. Profession of the vow of poverty means to sincerely acknowledge one's need for the Lord. It means to be so deeply imbued with the conviction of God's love and con-cern for men that one places himself in God's hands, de-pending on Him for strength and protection. Through this vow the Friar, like St. Francis, shares in the poverty of Christ so that the riches of God can be made available to men (II Cor. 13:3-4). For the Friars of the Atonement the ideal of poverty is best translated into actual observance by a conscientious adherence to the principle enunciated by Father Paul, namely, to use the minimum for self and the maximum for God. Obedience 16. The loving obedience of Christ is God's greatest glory and the cause of man's salvation (Rom. 5:19). The Friars of the Atonement, therefore, profess the vow of obedience as the principal expression of their response to God's call to share more intimately in the life of Christ. By religious obedience the Friars unite their wills to the will of God and profess their intention to work together in community under the direction of their superiors, to arrive at perfect charity and to serve the People of God. 17. Obedience which is informed by charity enhances one's human dignity and freedom. It means the generous and energetic use of one's talents and abilities in fuIfilIing assignments and directives. For the Friars the practice of obedience is essentially an exercise of one's responsibility in view of his freely made response to the call of God to the religious life within the Community of the Friars of the Atonement. Obedience facilitates that direction from the Church and from religious superiors which is conducive to an orderly and effective Christian life as well as to a fruitful apostolate. 18. Those Friars called to the exercise of authority shall recognize that this special practice of obedience obliges them to be attentive to the Spirit working among the members and to serve their confreres so that under their Ieadership the objectives of the Community will be achieved. Docile to the action of the Holy Spirit, and out of love for God's will, a11 the Friars, then, are to show humble obedience to their superiors, whom they shall see as the representatives of Christ, according to the norms of the ÷ ÷ ÷ Constitutions VOLUME 27, 1968 983 Rule, these Constitutions and the Book of General Statutes. RELIGIOUS FOR1VIATION AND EDU~,ATION 19. Religious Formation is the process of communicating to the religious an ever deepening knowledge of and a commitment to the person of the Word Incarnate. 20. The object of religious formation programs within the Community of the Friars of the Atonement is to imbue its members with and to aid them to grow in the spirit of the Gospels according to the inspiration of the Father Founder. These programs likewise are to be the means to set be-fore the Friars the ideals of the Founder so that all will be formed in the common vocation of the Community. 21. Religious formation provides the conditions for the possibility of the Friars' initial experience of Franciscan brotherhood in communal worship, in fraternal responsi-bility and in apostolic endeavors cooperatively under-taken. 22. Houses of formation and education should be such that genuine community can be created and apostolic works, ac.cording to the development of those being formed, may be pursued. 23. In order that formation and education may be effec-tive, direct responsibility for them shall be entrusted to particular Friars. Nevertheless, each and every Friar shares the responsibility for these programs and partici-pates in them by his living of religious community life and by his efforts to realize with the Community its spirit and aims. + + + Friars the Atonement REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Candidates 24. The Community has the right to expect its candidates to be open to guidance, to be willing to learn, to be de-voted to the Community and to be generous in their efforts to make its spirit and aims a part of their lives. Each candidate is expected to have an ardent desire to serve God and the Church through the fraternal com-munity of the Friars, and should develop in himself a sensitivity for others so that he may live communally. 25. On his part, the candidate may expect the Com-munity to guide him in his development as a total person in community, and that the Community will offer him the living experience of its own life and work. He may also expect the opportunity that his own natural abilities will be developed, his capabilities brought to the fore and his generosity given expression. 26. Admission into the Congregation of the Franciscan Friars of the Atonement at the time of novitiate means participation in a fraternal community wherein all the members share its life and apostolic aims. The Father General as the head of the whole Commun-ity, with the consent of the General Council, after re-ceiving counsel from the Directors of the pre-Novitiate program, receives candidates into the Community of the Friars. 27. Each Friar is to have the opportunity, by means of education and experience, to develop his own unique area of contribution, according to the needs of the Com-munity. In this way the comprehensiveness of the entire Community will be increased and enriched. Superiors and Directors primarily have the responsibil-ity to work with the Community to discover, to develop and to orientate the talents of each Friar according to what is demanded for a faithful apostolate of Unity and an energetic community life. "CHAPTER IV P~ELIGIOUS COMMUNIT~ Lx~E 28. The Friars of the Atonement as a community recog-nizes that they have been called together by the Spirit into the charity and fellowship of Christ Jesus. Their fraternity depends on their oneness of heart and mind in Christ Jesus (Acts 4:32) and in their common spirit of "rejoicing in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom we have now received the Atonement" (Rom. 5:11). As a witness to the bonds that unite them, the Friars hold all goods in common, share life in community, join in fellowship for worship, and perform their apos-tolic ministry in a spirit of brotherhood. 29. All the Friars contribute to the upbuilding of the whole Community, because each Friar accepts responsi-bility for our way of life through a fraternal sharing in the same obligations and rights. These are exercised in a manner commensurate with each Friar's ability and his assigned role or office within the Congregation, for there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; there are varieties of ministries, but the same Lord; + 4. 4. 985 .there are varieties of workings; but the same God, who works all things in all , (I Cor. 12:4-7).' "30. "The Eucharistic Liturgy proclaims the saving death of the Lord ufitil He comes (I Cor. 11:26) and in it the 'Friar receives Christ's Body and Blood, the principal source of man's reconciliation with God. First place, then, is given t6 the celebration of the Eucharistic Liturgy be-cause "the doctrine we are to preach and ever hold before the eyes of men is the at-one-ment of man with God, and the sole insirument of its accomplishment is the Holy Cross" (Father Paul). '311 :Wfie.n praying the Canonical Hours, the Liturgy of 'Praise, [he Community stands before the Lord in'the name qf the whole People of God, interceding for the needs of man and "giving glory and honor and benedic-tion to Him who sits on the throne, who lives forever and ever" (.Apoc. 4:9.). Because this is so, the ordinary daily community prayer offered by the Friars is the Liturgy. of Praise, so that the whole day may be made holy with glory given to God. 4. .4- 4. Friars of the o'Atonement REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~986 32. Since the Church wills religious to give an increas-ingly clearer revelation of Christ, the Friars should en-deavor to manifest Him both in c6nt~mplation and in proclaiming God's Kingdom to the multitude. Drawing on the authentic sources of Christian.tradition, the Friars recognize the need for both personal prayer and endeavor to cultivate a.spirit of prayer rooted in Sacred Scripture and in the Sacred Liturgy: Religious reflection, too, .can enri'ch and make the Friars more effective in responding, both individually , and. communally, to the vocation and. work of the'Congre- .gation. Above all, it .can deepen the Friars' 'prayer life and the intensity of their communion with God and with each other, because of Christ. The Friars' practice of re-ligious reflection, then, ought to offer opportunities for them in charity to assist, to encourage, and to counsel each other. Religious reflection is not passive--on the ,contrary, it is genuinely human, begetting stability and maturity and fostering human love and unity. 33. Because of their particular devotion to Christ's Atone-ment, and following the example of Father Paul who made prayer and sacrifice a basic way of life, the Friars of the Atonement are encouraged to perform k, oluntary and personal acts of mortification. The Friars, too, are reminded that as a commianity they should offer corporate witness to their Atonement voca-. tion. Fidelity to the way of life and work to which they are committed is to be their primary corporate witness. Particular mortifications and penances which are mutu-ally agreed to by all the Friars in a local community, like-wise, should be part of their lives so that corporately they, too, can fill up ".what is lacking in Christ's atfliction for the sake of His Body, that is, the Church" (I Cot. 1:24). 34. Where true Christian life is experienced something ~f God is discovered. "Where love is, there is God." There-fore all of the Friars are to strive to create an atmosphere which is cheerful and friendly in all our houses so that they will truly be places fit for genuine community life. The Friars, too, shall express their respect for one another as individuals within the Community. This is to be done by honoring each Friar's privacy and by .extend-ing ordinary courtesies to each other. Finally, the tradition of Franciscan hospitality .which so characterized Father Founder is to be the. established policy in all our houses. Visitors are to be welcomed and, according to local circumstances, a hospitality marked by generosity is to be extended to them. 35. Mindful of the words of the Lord, "Whatsoever you do for the least o~ my brethren you do for me," and of the fact that the infirm are both a sign of the suffering of Christ among us and a call from God to respond with love and compassion, every care and consideration is to be shown to the sick Friars, and everything that is spiritually and physically beneficial to them is to be' provided as far as possible. . Likewise, whatever good the Friars have shown each other should not cease with their death, because the bonds that religious profession establishes among the Friars do not cease with death. The memory and dedication of the deceased Friars should often be recalled, .so that tile fruit of their good works may live on. On their anniversary day some remembrance of them should be made in common. PART II GOVERNMENT OF THE CONGREGATION CHAPTER I '. THE GENERAL CHAPTER" 36. The General Chapter, whether Ordinary or E~raor-dinary, lawfully assembled, is the supreme authority ~of 4. + Constitutions ; VOLUME 27; 1968:~ ' 987 the Congregation. The General Chapter is the concern of all the Friars. Consequently each Friar has the right and the duty to propose matters for its consideration. 37. An Ordinary General Chapter of Affairs shall be convoked every three years. An Ordinary General Chap-ter of Elections and of Affairs shall be convoked every six years. An Extraordinary General Chapter shall be convoked when the office of Father General becomes va-cant. An Extraordinary General Chapter shall be con-voked upon the decisive vote of the General Council, with the approval of the Holy See. An Extraordinary Genei:al Chapter of Affairs may be convoked if a two-thirds majority of perpetually professed Friars request it and the General Council consents. An Extraordinary General Chapter of Elections may be convoked if a two-thirds majority of perlSetually professed Friars request it, the General Council consents, and the Holy See approves. 38.The Father General or, if the office of Father General is vacant, the Vicar-General, is responsible for convoking the General Chapter and conducting the elections for delegates thereto. The procedures established in Canon Law, in these Constitutions, and in the General Statutes, and in the~ Rite to be Observed in holding the General Chapter, are to be followed in all General Chapters, whether Ordinary or Extraordinary. + 4- 4- ~'rhrrs o! t~ Atonement Capitulars 39. The incumbent Father General and the four C6uncil-lors General are Capitulars ex ol~cio. The other Capitu-lars are a representative number of Friars elected accord-ing to the norms of the General Statutes from: A) Combination of the larger houses; B) Geographic combinations of other houses; C) Friars at large; D) Seniority combinations. The General Chapter alone has the fight to designate which houses of a locality are to be combined and the number of delegates from each combination. Between Genera/Chapters, if a house or houses, should be estab-lished outside of the localities prescribed, the General Council by a deliberative vote shall determine to which locality it or they belong. This designation shall be con-firmed or changed by the subsequent General Chapter. FOR RELIcq0US 40. All perpetually professed Friars have both an active 988 and passive voice in the election of delegates to the Gen- eral Chapter. Capitulars shall attend the Chapter under bne title only. CHAP~R II THE GENERAL COUNCIL AND GENERAL CURIA 41. The Father General and the four Councillors General constitute the General Council. It is the duty of the Gen-eral Council to govern the Congregation collegially with-out prejudice to the authority of the Father General. Since the government of the Congregation is collegial, the Father General will see to it that all members of the General Council are well informed concerning the affairs of the whole Congregation so they can actively participate in the government of the Congregation. The General CounciI, together with the Secretary General, the Treasurer General and the Procurator Gen-eral to the Holy See constitute the General Curia. The members of the General Curia shall be perpetually pro-fessed and are subject to the Father General alone. The Father General 42. Outside of the time of the General Chapter, supreme authority within the Congregation is vested in the Father General, who with the aid of his Council governs and administers the whole Congregation in accordance with Canon Law, the Decrees of the General Chapter, these Constitutions and the Book of General Statutes. The Father General shall be a priest at least ten years professed and thirty-five years of age. He is elected for a term of six years by the General Chapter and may be elected for a successive term of six years. Should the Father General judge it his duty to resign from office he will submit his reasons for resignation to the Holy See and await its decision. Should it seem necessary to remove the Father General from office, the General Councillors, after due delibera-tion and a secret vote, will refer the matter in proper form to the Holy See and await its decision. At least once a month and whenever else he may deem opportune, the Father General will convoke and when present preside over meetings of the General Council. With the advice of the General Council the Father General shall implement policies set by the General Chapter for the Congregation. With the advice and, if necessary, the consent of the General Council, he shall inaugurate and implement policies that are deemed valua-ble for the Congregation. At least once every three years the Father General, either personally or through a delegate, shall make an official Visitation of each house of the Congregation. ÷ ÷ 4- Constitutions VOLUME 27, 1968 989 ÷ 4. ÷ Friars the Atonement REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Father General shall prepare and sign any neces-sary reports to the Holy See. He shall likewise prepare and sign the report to the General Chapter on the state of the Congregation. The Vicar-General and Councillors General 43. Should the office of the Father General become va-cant, the Vicar-General, who shall always be a priest ten years professed, immediately assumes the government of the Congregation. According to the norms of Art. 38 above and the General Statutes he shall then convoke a General Chapter. In the absence of the Father General the Vicar-General shall convoke and preside over such special meetings of the General Council as are deemed opportune. Should the office of the Vicar-General become vacant the Father General and the three other Councillors shall elect a priest, ten years professed, to this office. Should the Vicar-General judge it his duty to resign from office he shall submit his resignation to the General Council and await its recommendation. Should it be deemed necessary to remove the Vicar-General from office, the Father Gen-eral and the other three Councillors General, after due deliberation, shalI refer the matter to the Holy See and await its decision. Should the office of a Councillor General become va-cant, the Father General and the Vicar-General and the other two Councillors shall elect a perpetually professed Friar to fill it. Should a Councillor General judge it his duty to resign, he shall submit his resignation to the General Council and await its decision. Should it be deemed necessary to remove a Councillor General from office, the Father General, the Vicar-General and the other two Councillors shall refer the matter in proper form to the Holy See and await its decision. Sessions of the General Council 44. It rests with the Father General as President of the General Council to lay before it those matters to be con-sidered at each session. The Councillors, however, have the right to suggest other subjects after these have been considered. Regular sessions of the General Council shall be con-vened monthly. Special sessions of the General Council shall be convoked at the request of two Councillors Gen-eral. The following matters only may be decided by the de-cisive vote of the General Council. The responsibility for making decisions in all other matters rests with the Father General, who is to seek the advice of the General Council- lors before making a decision unless circumstances dictate otherwise. A) Matters assigned by Canon Law, these Constitutions and the General Chapter for decision by decisive vote. B) Interpretation for practical purposes of the Consti-tutions, Book of General Statutes and the Decrees of the General Chapter. C) Change or confirmation of previous enactments of the General Council. D) Promotion to Sacred Orders and to First and Per-petual Vows, and questions regarding dismissal from the Congregation. E) The opening or closing of houses. F) Enactment, in accordance with these Constitutions and General Statutes of regulations regarding re-ligious community life and matters regarding re-ligious observances. G) The election of the Secretary General, the Treas-urer General and the Procurator General to the Holy See, and the acceptance of the resignation or deposition of a member of the Curia. Also, the ap-pointment of a Visitor General for the visitation of the whole Congregation or a notable part of it. H) Convocation of an Extraordinary General Chapter. I) The election of local superiors, their vicars, direc-tors of the Congregation's formation programs and directors of the Congregation's apostolic works. J) Extraordinary expenses, loam, mortgages and sales, in accordance with the directives of the General Chapter, and the determination of quotas for con-tributions to be levied on various houses for the support of the poorer ones, and to meet the general expenses of the Congregation. K) Approval of the General Accounts of the Congrega-tion and of financial reports submitted by the local superiors. L) Legal proceedings of major importance to be initi-ated or continued in accord with the directives of the General Chapter. 45. In disposing of matters that require the decisive vote of the General Council, all members shall be present. If a member cannot participate the session shall be post-poned. If the session cannot be postponed the other mem-bers of the General Council shall elect a qualified Friar to replace him. In matters which require the decisive vote of the Gen-eral Council the Father General acts invalidly if he re-jects the majority vote. In matters which do not require the decisive vote of the General Council a quorum of + + + Constitution~ VOLUME 27, 1968 991 three, one of whom must be the Father General or, in his absence, the Vicar-General, shall be competent. In the disposition of matters that do not require the decisive vote of the General Council, the Father General shall seriously consider the opinion and the votes of the Councillors. However, he need not follow the vote of the Council even thougil it be unanimously against his opinion. The minutes of each session of the General Council shall be kept by the Secretary General, signed by the Councillors General and preserved in the archives. CHAPTER III THE CANONICAL VISITATION 46. The aims of the Canonical Visitation by the Father General or his delegate are: To strengthen the bonds of fraternity, unity and charity within the Community and the Congrega-tion; to inspire Friars to strive for greater holiness; and to encourage the Friars to greater efforts in the apostolates of the Congregation. At least one month before, the superior of the house will be informed of the impending Visitation. He will then make this known to the Friars of the house. In the Book of Visitations the Visitor will record any recommendations or ordinances he deems proper. He will likewise prepare a written report of the Visitation for the General Council CHAPTER IV ÷ + ÷ Friars the Atonement REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 992 LOCAL COMMUNITY GOVERNMENT 47. The General Chapter shall designate certain houses into Regions if this is judged useful for the good of the Congregation. A) 1. A Region is a territory where the pastoral care of the people is entrusted to the Congregation; 2. Or, a Region is a geographical grouping of parishes and houses. Each Region shall have its own regional superior and council with as many members as the regional statutes indicate. B) The Father General and General Council shall ap-point the regional superior after a consultative vote of the Friars in the Region has been taken. Regional councillors are elected by the Friars of the Region; these elections, however, must be confirmed by the GeneraI Council. C) Regional superiors and councillors serve for a term of three years unless a General Chapter intervenes. In this instance their term ends, although they con- tinue to serve until new elections have been com-pleted and confirmed. Friaries 48. All the Friars are to be assigned to specific houses or regions of the Congregation, even if their particular work is not directly attached to a particular house. All houses of the Congregation are called friaries and the local su-perior of each is called its Guardian. Local superiors are to be perpetually professed. Each local superior serves for three years or until the next General Chapter. He may serve for a second three year term and, exceptionally, for a third in the same house. Ordinarily no Friar may serve as Guardian more than three consecutive terms either in the same house or in different houses. 49. Each friary is to have a friary council with as many councillors as the local statutes provide. These Friars share responsibility with the local superior for the govern-ment of the community. Friary councillors are to be perpetually professed and, with the exception of the first councillor, who is the fl:iary's vicar, all shall be elected by the Friars of the house to serve a term of office which coincides with that of the local superior. In these local elections junior professed Friars have active voice. No Friar may serve for more than two consecutive terms on a friary council in the same house. The friary council shall meet monthly under the leader-ship of the local superior, who shall prepare its agenda. When these matters have been treated then the council-lors may introduce other subjects. In houses with less than five Friars the Father General may dispense from the prescription calling for a friary council. Local Chapters 50. In order to adapt to the needs and conditions of a particular house or region, the friary or regional council concerned, after consulting the community, shall draw up their own book of statutes, which shall be submitted for approval to the General Council. Periodically, local and regional superiors are to call the Friars together for a house or regional chapter, that is, a general meeting where policy, religious life and matters of special interest to the Friars shall be discussed. + ÷ 4- Constitutions VOLUME ZT, Z968 A New Charter of Charity of the Order of Citeaux ÷ ÷ ÷ Charter oy Charity 994 [Editor's Note. M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., of St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, Massachusetts 01562, has been kind enough to provide the REvIEw with the text of an initial schema for a new charter of charity for the Cistercians. The schema was prepared by the constitutional Renewal Commission of the Order. of Cistercians of the Strict Observance (Trappists). It must be emphasized that the document is only an initial schema, th~tt it has not yet been fully discussed within the Cistercian Order, and that it is in no sense an official and au-thoritative statement of the Order. Even the designation of the Cisterc]ans of the Strict Obsen,ance as the "Order of Citeaux" i~ a suggestion of the schema, not a settled designation; In other words,'the document printed below is a schema--a working paper to serve as a basis for discussion within the Order as it prepares to renew itself according to the wishes of Vatican Council II. Only the main text of the document is printed here. The complete edition of the schema includes copious notes and ex-planations which it was felt could be omitted for the purposes of.publication in the REvmw. Abbreviations used in the docu-ment. as printed here are the following: AG = Vatican Council II's Decree on the Church's Missionary Activity; Ex. Parv. = The Little Exordium; GS = Vatican Council II's Constitution on the Church in the Modern World; LG = Vatican Council II's Constitution on the Church; PC = Vatican Council II's Decree on Religious Li[e; RB = The Rule of St. Benedict; and RM = The Rule oI the Master. Readers may find it of interest to compare and contrast the schema for "A Eife Charter for the Sisters Adorers of the Most Precious Blood" that appeared in REvIEw for RELIOIOUS, vol-ume 25 (1966), pages 557-89.] INTRODUCTION " 1. United in Christ, led by the Holy Spirit, journey-ing to the Kin~gdom of the Father, the pilgrim Church has welcomed the news of salvation which is meant for every man. Gathered in Council, under the Holy Spirit, probing more profoundly into its own mystery, the Church set [or itself the goal to intensify the daily growth of all the faithful in Christian living, to be more responsive to the needs of our times, to nurture whatever can contribute to the unity of all who believe in Christ and to reach out to all mankind. Hence the Second Vatican Council had special reason to call for renewal in the lives of thbse who bind themselves to the evangelical counsels and thus are committed to the honor and service of God under a new and special title. 2. This summons, which was addressed in a particu-lar way to us as members of communities wholly dedi-cated to contemplation, gave expression to a deep as-piration already intensely alive in our Order. The Founders of Citeaux were in quest of a truly authentic response to the perennial values of the monastic voca-tion. As we write this new Charter for our Cistercian life we are conscious of the need to enter more deeply into this same quest. At the same time we seek to re-spond to the signs of the times and the needs of the Church by expressing and living in a vital contempo-rary way the charism which our Fathers shared with the Blessed Benedict and expressed through the power of the Holy Spirit in their lives. We can do this only if all of us, monks and nuns, individually and as com-munities, strive to be renewed in the same Spirit. 3. This new Charter should be seen within the history of our Order as another stage in a constant and con. tinuing development. It reflects our history and con-crete life, develops new insights from both the sacred and secular sciences which must enrich our monastic vocation, and opens the way for us to continue to evolve with the Church and the family of man. 4. In formulating our new Charter we turn to the source of all Christian life, the Gospel, as embodied in the Rule of Saint Benedict and lived by our Cistercian Fathers, to the Charter of Charity and all the subse-quent historical and cultural developments of our tra-dition and to the needs of a contemporary Church and society. 5. The Rule of Saint Benedict remains the basic Code of our Order. Following in the footsteps of our Cistercian Fathers, we seek to live the evangelical life according to the monastic tradition as it has been syn-thesized in this Rule. This new Charter seeks but to place this heritage within the flow of ecclesial tradi-tion, and to establish structures which will enable us to live our profession of the Rule in a way that is con. stantly meaningful. 6. The supreme law in our Order is that of fraternal love, which is the new commandment of Christ (cf. .In 13,34) and the fulfillment of the law (cf. Rm 13,10). This is the bond which unites us. For this reason, and 4. ~harter ot Charity VOLUME 27, 1968 995 as a sign of our intimate union with our Fathers and our desire to live according to their spirit, we call our Charter, the New Charter of Charity. 7. This means that we must respect the Christian dig-nity of each monk and nun and the unique character of each community, that we must be responsive to the Sl~irit speaking within us. With full consciousness of our responsibilities, each one of us must effectively share in the life and government of our communities and Order. 8. Our laws and structures are to be in the service of evangelical freedom. They give our life a stability which it needs. They open the way for us to full growth in Christ (cf. Ep 4,13; Col 1,28). They must always be such that they do truly serve to strengthen our bond with one another and enable us to realize our most basic aspirations after fulfillment through union with God. Only those which are required by the essential characteristics of our Cistercian life are expkessed in this Charter. Others which arise from the realization of needs common to the whole Order are placed in the Customary of the Rule, which will remain under constant review. CHAPTER ONE LIFE CONSECRATED BY THE PROFESSION OF THE EVANGELICAL COUNSELS ARTICLE ONE THE INNER MEANING OF THIS STATE OF LIFE + + + REVIEW FOR RELI61OUS A Personal Call 9. Jesus Christ, God made man, "the Way, the Truth, and the Life," is given to us in the New Cove-nant as our model, that we might follow in his steps (cf. 1 P 2,21; 1 Co 11,1) and that he "might be the eldest of many brothers" (Rm 8,29). But such, is the perfection of "the image of the unseen God" (Col 1,15) that each one of us can reflect only certain aspects of his beauty. Whence the great number of vocations in the Church: the Spirit "distributes different gifts to different people just as he choses" (1. Co 12,11). It has pleased God to invite some to follow a special path of holiness, to imitate "more closely" (LG 44; PC 1) his Son, virgin and poor, who had "nowhere to lay his head" (Mr 8,20; Lk 9,58) and who "emptied him-self to assume the condition of a slave, and became as men are; and being as all men are, he was humbler yet, even to accepting death, death on a cross" (Ph 2,7-8). 10. Mary, Jesus' Mother, went before us on this way of virginity for the love of God. By her "Fiat" (Lk 1,38) given in faith, the "highly favored one" (Lk 1,28) who knew not man (cf. Lk 1,34), conse-crated herself wholly to the work of the Redemption. "Taken up body and soul into heavenly glory" (LG 59), she is the Church's living sign of the spiritual fruitful-ness of virginal consecration. 11. John the Baptist, the greatest of the children born of woman (cf. Mt 11,11), completed his self-emptying as he effaced himself before the "Lamb of God" (Jn 1,29.36): it must be that Jesus become great and that he, John, fade away (cf. Jn 3,30). His rigorous asceticism, his life in the desert, as well as his special prophetic mission invite us to find in him that virginal simplicity which enables him to speak of himself as "the bridegroom's friend, who stands and listens," and who "is glad when he hears the bridegroom's voice" (Jn 3,29). In the end, John foreshadowed the "Lamb of God" in his obedience to the divine will, even to a martyr's death (cf. Mt 14,3-12; Mk 6,17-29). 12. Mary the virgin and mother, Joseph her chaste husband and guardian of her virginity, . John the Bap-tist, all were led by the Holy Spirit and anticipated the explicit invitation of Christ. It was only when he came preaching that the Master uttered those words which were destined to inspire so many through all succeeding generations: ".there are eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can'~ (Mt 19,12). In Jesus' teaching, the "kingdom of heaven" is the salvation which has been proclaimed, the New Covenant which has been established by the coming of the Son of God and which will find its full realiza-tion in the world to come. Virginity chosen for the sake of the kingdom anticipates the time when the risen Christ will have completely swallowed up death in victory (cf. 1 Co 15,54). "For at the resurrection men and women do not marry; no, they are like the angels in heaven" (Mt 22,30). Under the Old Dispensation the spiritual meaning of virginity was already known and expressed in Jeremiah who embraced celibacy at Yahweh's word in view of the times to come, but it belongs to the Church of the New Covenant to per-ceive the full grandeur and dignity of Christian celibacy. 13. In its life and in its teaching the primitive Church faithfully preserved this "divine gift" (LG 43) of virginity for the love of God. Saint Paul, wishing that all the world were as he, told celibates and widows that it was good to remain as they were: "i believe that in these present times of stress this is right" (cf. 1 4, Charter of Charity VOLUME 27, 1968 997 ÷ ÷ Ch~rt~r o~ ~,harit~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 998 Co 7). He, who in writing to the Ephesians .would extol the dignity and sacramentality of Christian mar-riage (cf. Ep 5,21-33) did not hesitate to affirm that "the man who sees that his daughter is married has done a good thing but the man who keeps his daughter unmarried has done something better" (1 Co 7,38). 14. This charism which the Church received through the Holy Spirit gradually acquired an established form in the midst of the people of God. During the first two centuries celibacy for the sake of the Word, without any explicit recognition as a special juridic structure, was embraced by a multitude of Christians. These vir-gins were considered as Saint Cyprian said, "the most illustrious part of Christ's flock." 1 The profession of the evangelical counsels has con-tinued up to our own days to adorn the Spouse of Christ. Through the course of the centuries it has become more stable, more diversified, ever richer. After being principally of the monastic type during the first part of the Middle Ages, it began to give birth, especially after the twelfth century, to new religious families responding to new needs of the Church. 15. Carrying forward the teaching of the Council of Trent, the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council ex-pressed clearly the importance of this state of life in the Church, asserting that "although the religious state constituted by the profession of the evangelical counsels does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the Church, nevertheless it belongs inseparably to her life and holiness" (LG 44). As in the case of every other Christian vocation, the consecrated life is a response to a personal call from God addressed to a particular individual. To this biblical call which we receive through the Church, the Holy Spirit adds his interior grace, giving his gifts to the members of Christ, enlightening and inspiring them in his own mysterious way, guiding and adorning them with different charisms for the good of all mankind (cf. Am 2,10-11). Our Response to This Call 16. God, who has freely committed himself and has remained faithful to his promises, the "God of truth," the "God-Amen" (Is 65,16), has brought about the full-ness of salvation in Christ, who is the "Yes" to God, the "Amen" to God (cf. 2 Co 1,19; Rv 3,14). It is "through him, in him and with him" that we say "Yes" to God, that we respond in faith to his love, that we express our "Amen to the praise of God" (2 Co 1,20). Upheld 1 The Habit ot Virgins, trans. A. Keenan, "The Fathers of the Church," v. 36 (New York: Fathers of the Church, 1958), p. 33. by the hope of meeting the Lord "face to face" (cf. Gn 32,31; 1 Co 13,12) and drawn by the "Father of all light," from whom we receive "all that is good, every-thing that is perfect" (Jn 1,17), we seek to conform. "ourselves ever more to Christ and to follow him "more closely" in his going to the Father (cf. Jn 14,12). It is the Father himself who calls us in the Holy Spirit and receives us, through the invitation and acceptance of the Church, to the praise of his glory (cf. Ep 1,14). 17. The profession of the evangelical counsels in the Church is but the flowering of the Christian initia-tion. Through the grace of Baptism we die to sin and become men possessed by the Holy Spirit. "This same Spirit gives himself in a fuller way in Confirmation, to assure the stability and vigour of our Christian ex-istence; it is to him that the martyrs and the virgins owe their victory over the attractions of the perishable." Now, in order to gather more abundant fruit, we wish, by the effective practice of the evangelical counsels to free ourselves from those obstacles which may draw us away from the fervor of charity and the perfection of divine worship (cf. LG 44). The religious life is then a "special consecration which is deeply rooted in the baptismal consecration, expressing it more fully" (PC 5). Many of those who "tend towards holiness by a narrower path" (LG 13) enter into a community of brethren which is "united, heart and soul" (Ac 4,32) where they mutually sustain each other. This union of brethren finds its greatest expression and its actualiza-tion in "the meal of brotherly solidarity" (GS 38), the efficacious sign of the union of brothers with one another and the Church universal in the glorious Body and Blood of the Lord. ARTICLE Two THE SIGNIFICANCE OF THE PROFESSION OF THE EVANGELICAL COUNSELS IN THE CHURCH TODAY The Spiritual Growth of the Individual 18. If the Church has again insisted on the im-portance of the religious state it is because experience gives witness to the innumerable benefits that derive from this "divine gift" (LG 43). The profession of the evangelical counsels is.seen first of all to facilitate the spiritual growth of the individual who is faithful to the divine call. Although all Chris-tians have been called to "freedom and glory as children of God" (Rm 8,21), Saint Paul teaches us that those who ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 27, 1968 999 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1000 persevere in celibacy for the love of God find a greater spiritual liberty. According to him, marriage is open to the danger of being seen only in itself, without the pro-found reality which it signifies: divine agape. Because of a duty to please the other (cf. 1 Co 7,33-34) the mar-ried man or woman has to worry about the affairs of the world. For the married person then it is more difficult to follow the ideal of the beatitudes: to be poor with Christ, to hunger and thirst with him, to suffer for his sake. "An unmarried man can devote himself to the Lord's affairs" (Ibid.). Seeking to please Christ alone, the virgin, undivided in heart, appears in the Church as one whose life is wholly ordered to God and whose ex-terior activities embody this total consecration to the Master. Here is the ideal condition for the pilgrim who wishes to go ever deeper into the desert, to meet his God (cf. Ex 19,17). 19. When the Fathers of Trent said that the state of virginity or celibacy is "better and more blessed" than that of marriage, they had in mind this doctrine of Saint Paul, even borrowing at times his own expressions. This doctrinal tradition is again echoed in the thought of the Second Vatican Council. Chastity "for the sake of the kingdom of heaven" (Mr 19,12) is presented as "freeing, in a singular manner, the heart of man" (PC 12) so that "he may, more easily and with undivided heart, dedicate himself to God alone" (LG 42). The religious state "gives its members greater freedom from earthly cares" (LG 44); it permits them "to follow Christ more freely and imitate him more closely" (PC 1). 20. The profession of the evangelical counsels locates the consecrated person in the depths of the Paschal Mystery; it unites him more intimately with Christ in his "baptism" of the cross (Mk 10,38; Lk 12,50) and in his resurrection. Saint Paul saw Christian asceticism as a dying of the old man, as going down into the tomb with Jesus, entering into his death through baptism (cf. Rm 6,1-11; Col 2, 11-13). Saint Luke places the coun-sel of virginity in the Christological context of Saint Paul: "There is no one who has left house, wife, brothers, parents or children for the sake of the kingdom of God who will not be given repayment many times over in this present time and, in the world to come, eternal life" (Lk 18,29-30). To leave wife and children is to renounce marriage and to realize in an eminent way the condition demanded by Christ of those who wish to follow him, carrying the cross (cf. Lk 9,23). The Christian life in union with the Lord does not end at Calvary. God "raised us up with him and gave us a place with him in heaven, in Christ Jesus" (Ep 2,6). By the holocaust of perpetual continence, one vowed to celibacy is "set apart," "dedicated; . consecrated" to God, and thus participates in the exaltation of Christ: "All he need worry about is being holy in body and soul" (1 Co 7,34). The Extension of the Reign o[ Christ in the World 21. If the profession of the evangelical counsels is a cause of spiritual growth for the consecrated person himself, it is also ordered to the good of the entire Church and of all mankind. "The evangelical counsels which lead to charity join their followers to the Church and its mystery in a special way. Since .this is so, the spiritual life of these people should then be devoted to the weffare of the whole Church" (LG 44). If every Christian, in virtue of his baptism and confirmation, ought to bear witness and radiate Christ, it is evident that the profession of the evangelical counsels insofar as it is a structure of life and holiness in the Church, ought to share in a special way in the sacramentality of the Church in the world. Christ, through the vivifying Spirit, has formed his Body which is the Church as "a universal sacrament of salvation" (LG 48), as an effica-cious sign and "instrument of the Redemption" (cf. LG 9). We are conscious then of our obligation to be vitally significant, so that the Church-sacrament can realize itself in us, according to the measure of the grace we have received from Christ. 22. The value of the religious life as a sign has been abundantly underlined in the texts of the Second Vati-can Council. The profession of the evangelical counsels "manifests and signifies, by a more intimate consecration to God in the Church, the inner nature of the Christian calling" (AG 18). While the charity which is active within the secular world identifies itself concretely with the tasks and activities of the world, the profession of the evangelical counsels brings clearly into view the deeper, transcendental and supramundane dimension of Chris-tian life. In a striking manner, this profession attests to the truth that "the world cannot be transformed and of-fered to God without the spirit of the beatitudes" (LG 31). In transcending not only in spirit but also effectively and visibly the very noble values of Christian marriage, . of the possession of the good things of this world and of the free disposition of one's own life "in pursuit of an excellence surpassing what is commanded" (LG 42), the consecrated religious preaches in his own life the Sermon on the Mount. He reminds all that we ought to use this world as men not engrossed in it, that this world is passing away (cf. 1 Co 7,31). 23. Because of its greater spiritual liberty, a life con- VOLU./VIE- 27, 1968 1001 secrated by the profession of the evangelical counsels can become a very efficacious sign of the saving love of God, universal and multiform. That is why the Council ex-horts religious "carefully to consider that through them, to believers and non-believers alike, the Church truly wishes to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ. Through them Christ should be shown contem-plating on the mountain, announcing God's kingdom to the multitude, healing the sick and the maimed, con-verting sinners to a better life, blessing children, doing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father who sent him" (LG 45). The profession of the evangelical counsels, then, is "the very heart of the religion that has come to us from the first days; it is devotion wholly founded on Christ; it is the ancient heritage of the Church of God. It was prefigured in the time of the prophets. John the Baptist, at the dawn of the New Covenant, established and re-newed it. The Lord himself lived it. And his disciples, while he was still with them, ardently desired it." " CHAPTER TWO THE CISTERCIAN VOCATION ARTICLE ONE CISTERCIAN LIFE AS ONE AMONG THE DIFFERENT FORMS OF RELIGIOUS LIFE REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1002 Monastic Lile 24. The phenomenon of monastic life is found al-most universally in the history of religions. Secretly drawn by the grace of the "unknown God" (LG 16) and experiencing their fundamental powerlessness, men of the most varied religions and cultures have been led to a certain withdrawal from society, and separation from family ties, to a rigorous personal poverty and asceti-cism. "In shadows and images" these "pilgrims of the Absolute" have striven after purity of heart, goodwill towards all men, a greater interiority leading to a truly deep and lasting personal peace. In this peace they have experienced something of God, who is the "eternal Peace." Through these elements of asceticism, interior-ity, total abandonment to an ultimate obscurely present, through this monastic way of life, divine grace has been poured into their hearts by the Spirit through the uni-versal redemption of Christ and has brought them into the flow of salvation history. 25. The revelation of the loving goodness of God, William of St. Thierry, Letter to the Carthusians, I, 3. made first to Abraham when he was invited to leave his family and his people to become the Father of all the faithful (cf. Rm 4,11-12), came to direct a basic human aspiration to a yet higher goal. God entered personally into our history to gradually transform the religious conscience of man. He chose for himself a people and educated them in a special way, preparing them for the coming of Christ. In the formation of the Hebrew peo-ple as they marched towards the Land of Promise the desert experience played an important, even essential role. Their prophets reflecting back upon it, elaborated a theology of the desert which would inspire the monas-tic movement lived within the fullness of the historical revelation. The desert is the place where God submitted Israel to the test to teach him that "man does not live on bread alone but that man lives on everything that comes from the mouth of Yahweh" (Dt 8,8). The sobriety of the cult of the desert would not let the Israelites be content with a formalistic piety, but called them to truly seek God. Recalling the disobedience of this "headstrong" people (Ex 82,9; 33,8-5), the Spirit urges us that at least today we ought not to tempt God (cf. Ps 95,7-8). Finally purified by the experience of the desert, Israel would be open to intimate converse with her Lord, Yahweh. It is the time for espousals (cf. Ho 9,16.21). 26. The Rekabites wished to prolong this ideal time; the Essenes, to make it return. Through the cours~ of the centuries Christian monasticism would draw from these spiritual treasures, adding to them the riches of the New Testament, above all the example of Jesus led into the desert by the Spirit (cf. Mk 1,12). To go into the desert is to leave behind the normal conditions of human life. It is to leave behind the com-fortable surroundings of c~vlllzatlon and qmckly expe-rience the hardships of solitude: ?'What did you go out into the wilderness to see? A reed swaying in the breeze? No? Then what did you go out to see? A man wearing fine clothes? Oh no, those who wear fine clothes are to be found in palaces" (Mt 11,7-8). A hard life, however, is only the outer shell of a reli-gious experience of the desert. The man who is led by the Spirit to follow Christ quickly discovers the spiritual riches that are hidden within. Putting distance between oneself and the city with its preoccupations is the most radical way to keep from being submerged in the "cares of the world" which too often choke the Word, ren-dering it unfruitful (cf. Mt 13,22). Solitude leads a man back to a true perspective of himself. Exposing all his pretences, it impresses upon him the evidence of his own personal poverty, of his total destitution, his need of ÷ ÷ ÷ Charter o] Charity VOLUME 27, 1968 1003 ÷ ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1004 God's help. In a word, the desert is the ideal place to en-counter God, to return to Yahweh: "That is why I am going to lure her and lead her out into the wilderness and speak to her heart" (Ho 2,16). 27. What distinguishes Christian monasticism and gives it its preeminence is the inner meaning it receives from the New Testament, the Gospels, the fullness of the revelation: "Even the angels long to catch a glimpse of these things" (1 P 1,12). The monastic life is above all centered on "Christ, the Son of the living God" (Mt 16,16) and "the Light of the nations" (LG 1) and the sign of God's love in our midst (cf. Jn 3,16; 13,34; 14,9). The monk seeks a God whom he knows in Christ. He is conscious of belonging to the human family that has been wounded and subjected to sin (cf. Rm 7,23) but also redeemed and renewed by him who became "our wisdom, and our virtue, and our holiness, and our free. dom" (1 Co 1,30). It was the word of the Master with its invitation to leave all to follow him that inspired Saint Anthony, and so many after him, to withdraw into the desert. There they struggled with sin and passion, they gave themselves to rigorous asceticism, they strove for incessant prayer and perseverence in this new form of martyrdom. Living in the continual presence of the Lord they were admit-ted to the contemplation of divine mysteries. The des-erts of Egypt, Syria and Palestine attracted many as-cetics. Some lived in complete solitude, some, under the spiritual guidance of an "Abba"; others joined the "Koinonia," following the example of the primitive Je-rusalem community. This latter form, initiated by Saint Pachomius, largely inspired later monasticism. Saint Benedict gathered together and adapted the better elements of the preceding monastic tradition. He proposed his Rule as an initial way of conversion, di-recting his disciples who thirsted for greater perfection to the Holy Scriptures and the doctrine of the "holy Fathers" (c[. RB 73). Because of its discretion and adapt-ability the Benedictine Rule became the principal mo-nastic code in the West, while the Orient has received its inspiration for the most part from the Rules of Saint Basil. 28. The Fathers of the Second Vatican Council have insisted that "in the East and in the West, the venerable institution of monastic life should be faithfully pre-served, and should grow ever-increasingly radiant with its own authentic spirit. Through the course of centu-ries, this institution has been of value to the Church and the human community" (PC 9). The Council recognized two forms of monastic response; the one hidden and wholly consecrated to divine worship; the other legiti- mately taking up some apostolate. Nevertheless the Council asserted that "the principal task" of all monks "is a humble and noble service of our divine Lord within the confines of the monastery" (Ibid.) The Cistercian Life 29. Today, the Church, through the voice of the Council, asks us to renew our monastic life according to "the spirit and aims of our Founders" (PC 2). Through the grace we share with our Fathers, we are convinced that the Cistercian life can continue to bear fruit for the Church of today and tomorrow. But this will be so only if we are attentive to the Holy Spirit and able to distin-guish the permanent values in the patrimony bequeathed to us by our Fathers which we must re-express in the socio-cultural context of our own times. Giving ourselves to this work of "renewal and adap-tation" we wish truly to seek a deep understanding of the charismatic intuition of our Fathers, to perceive their "spirit," that is, the totality of the essential prin-ciples of their spirituality, which it was given to them to objectify within the Church and to transmit to us a "letter," that is, all the practical determinations meant to incarnate the essential principles in a certain histori-cal epoch, a certain society, a certain culture. Because of the inevitable changes of time and circum-stances, in accord with a dialectic willed by Divine Providence, the "letter" of the Founders, in a new his-torical situation, finds itself sometimes in conflict with their "spirit." We have then the right and the duty, in order to be fully faithful to the "spirit," to confront the "letter" with the signs of the times, weighing and veri-fying all things, retaining what is good (cf. 1 Th 4,21) and creating where necessary new structures, but not before first calling upon God in most earnest prayer to guide our undertaking to a happy conclusion (cf. RB Prol. 4). 30. Our Cistercian Fathers were indeed living a re-presentation of the spiritual plenitude of Saint Ben-edict. Their own particular grace was an outburst of fervor and of love for Christ whom they wished to serve with greater generosity. To achieve this it was not their thought to establish in the Church a form of monastic life new and untried. They simply resolved to observe "more closely and more perfectly the Rule of Saint Ben-edict" (Ex.Parv. ch.2). Keenly alive to the value of au-thenticity, they looked for the "direct way of the Rule in every circumstance of their life," rejecting all that ran counter to its integrity (Ibid., ch.15). New soldiers of Christ enrolled in a spiritual militia, carrying on the combat in solitude far fi:om the affairs of the world, they ÷ ÷ ÷ Charter ol Charity VOLUME 27, 1968 1005 ÷ ÷ ÷ Charter o] Charity REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1006 labored to gain their living and to be able to offer to all a fitting hospitality. Poor with the poor Christ, they despoiled themselves of all that was superfluous and were content with the more simple, thus sharing in the hum-ble state of the poor of Yahweh and placing all their confidence in the Lord. Their attachment to the Benedictine Rule was above all in the service of love, the queen of the virtues, to-wards which all the observances were ordered. On a deeper level their spiritual enthusiasm was centered on Christ. It was because they wished to prefer nothing to him (cf. RB 4,21) that they returned to a more faithful observance of the prescriptions of Saint Benedict, their "guide, teacher and legislator." It was on the cross, with Christ, that they made their profession, hoping to re-main faithful to him. Mary, the "new Eve" at the side of Christ, the tender Mother of Christians, they honored as the Queen of heaven and earth. 31. The doctrine of the relationship of the "letter" to the "spirit" was present in the thought of the first Cistercians; it explains some of the decisions they made. Thus, of the monastic traditions introduced after the time of Saint Benedict, our Fathers retained some and rejected others according as they did or did not enable them to live the Rule in a more authentic way in the context of their own times. Indeed, to better incarnate the "spirit" of the Patriarch of Western Monasticism, they did not hesitate to set aside observances of the Rule itself and to create new forms. It was "~ight, in fact, that what was established for the sake of charity, should be omitted, discontinued or changed for something bet-ter when charity called for it. On the other hand, it would have been erroneous to wish to maintain con-trary to charity something that had been established for its sake." 3 32. We have received from God the Cistercian char-ism. We share it with our Fathers. As they had, so we have the right and duty to bring it to concrete realiza-tion within the Church of our times. This co-respons-ibility demands on our part that today we clearly dis-cern what are the essential principles of the spirituality of Saint Benedict, and what concrete form our creative fidelity to these principles ought to take. The true son of Saint Benedict, first and above all, seeks God (cf. RB 58,7) in the love of Christ (cf. RB 4,21). This search for God finds its highest expression in the "Work of God" (cf. KB 19; 43,1.3), which must be nourished by sacred reading (cf. RB 4,55; 48,1) and by intense personal prayer (cf. RB 4,56; 20). It is lived in St. Bernard, A Book on Precepts and Dispensations, II, 5. the midst of a community of love (RB 72,1-8), where all the brethren in their zeal for humility (RB 58,7) seek to obey one another (RB 71,1) and before all others, their abbot (RB 71,13), who holds for them the place of Christ (RB 2,2; 63,13). Identifying with the poor, they are ready to add manual labor, according to the example of our Fathers and the Apostles, to their habitual ascet-icism of silence, vigils, fasts and abstinence (RB 48,8). The workshop in which the disciple of Saint Benedict does all this is "the enclosure of the monastery and sta-bility in the community" (RB 4,78) far from the affairs of the world (RB 4,20). Recognizing our authentic vocation in this very clear Benedictine doctrine, we proclaim with Saint Bernard that "our life is one of self-abasement, humility, volun-tary poverty, obedience, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit; it is submission to a master, to an abbot, to a Rule, and to a discipline; it is living in silence, fasting and watching, praying and manual labor; above all it consists in following the more excellent way which is charity." 4 33. All these fundamental values must be brought into confrontation with the signs of our times. Thus we will be able to distinguish among the particular deter-minations of the Rule which of them still correspond to its true "spirit," and which of them ought to give place to new forms better able to realize the fullness of Bene-dictine life in the Church of today. Because the differences between their respective his-torical situations were not so great, our Fathers of Citeaux were able to live in the "spirit" of Saint Bene-dict retaining most of the particular determinations of the Rule. Today the world situation is almost entirely different. And therefore we realize that often we must be creative if we wish to live in full conformity with the "spirit" of Saint Benedict and our Cistercian Fathers. ARTICLE TWO THE CONTEMPORARY VALUES OF CISTERCIAN LIFE Its Value in Regard to Personal Fulfillment 34. In addition to the values it shares with the other forms of religious life, the Cistercian life is able to bring forth both for the individual and for the Church particular fruits flowing from its own proper character. Being wholly dedicated to contemplation, our Insti-tute seeks before all else to give to each monk and nun the possibility of the greatest spiritual liberty in order to ~St. Bernard, Letter 151, trans. B. James, Letters o] St. Bernard of Claimaux (London: Bums, Oates, 1953), p. 220. 4. + Charter ot Charity VOLUME 27, 1968 1007 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1008 be open to God alone without any other concern, not even that of a ministry or special service among the peo-ple of God. In spite of the urgent necessities of the active apostolate, the Second Vatican Council has insisted that institutes whose life is wholly contemplative should re-tain their proper character and their withdrawal from the world (cf. PC 7). The peace of the Cistercian clois-ter, while remaining open to all the concerns of the Church and the progress that is taking place within the human family, yet frees us from whatever does not per-tain to contemplative love, to adhering mind and heart to Christ, our God. This spiritual liberty of the monk and nun is an ex-tension of the special freedom enjoyed in every conse-crated life. Besides the freedom enjoyed in regard to the values of Christian marriage, of the possession of mate-rial goods and of the free disposition of one's own life "in pursuit of an excellence surpassing what is com-manded" (LG 42), the contemplative transcends even the values of specialized visible apostolates, although these are so necessary in a missionary Church. If we forego this aspect of Christian charity it is to realize more effectively and surely its deeper dimension: the perfect union of the soul with God. "You are freer from the distractions and delights of the world; seek all the more to please God" (Ex.Parv. 14). 35. Our spiritual ascent is also characterized by a rad-ical asceticism intended to help create and preserve our spiritual liberty as monks. To the renunciation found in the counsels of virginity, poverty and obedience Cis-tercian asceticism adds that of withdrawal from the world, silence, watching and fasting. These are meant to penetrate to the most secret attachments of the human heart, unmasking disordered passions liable to escape a less radical asceticism. It is the experience of the desert: "But what does it mean: to have come into solitude? It means to consider this world as a desert, to desire the Fatherland, to have only so much of this world as is suf-ficient to complete the journey." ~ Because of the "law of sin" which is still alive within us (cf. Rm 7,23) it is very difficult for a man. to detach himself from the values sacrificed by our monastic pro-fession. The "spirituality of the desert" certainly brings a great freedom but it also involves a painful detach-ment and demands a great fidelity to divine grace. "That there should be in the middle of great modern cities, in the richest of countries, as also on the plains of the Ganges or in the forests of Africa, men and women ca-pable of finding complete fulfillment in a life of adora- St. Aelred, Sermon 5: First Sermon [or the Feast o] St. Benedict (P.L., v. 195, col 244C-D). ¯ o o tion and praise, who consecrate themselves wllhngly to thanksgiving and intercession, who freely make. them-selves the surety of humanity before the Creator, the protectors and advocates of their brothers before the Father of the heavens, what a victory for the Almighty, what a glory for the Savior. And monachism, in its es-sense, is nothing else." ~ 36. In the midst of this "labor of obedience" (RB Prol. 2) we experience "how good, how delightful it is for all to live together like brothers" (Ps 133,1). While learning by the help of many brethren how to fight against the devil (cf. RB 1,4) we can love our brothers with a tender and chaste love, having a profound respect for each one (Rm 12,9-10), carrying each other's burdens (Ga 6,2), patiently enduring one another's infirmities, obeying one another, seeking not what is useful to self, but rather what benefits the other (cf. RB 72,4-8). Such fraternal love is not only the strongest safeguard for chastity (PC 12), it fulfills the law of Christ (cf. Rm 13,8-10; Ga 5,15) and responds to a man's basic need to give himself in love in order to live in union with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ (cf. 1 Jn 1,3). 37. Enriched by the experience of centuries, the Cis-tercian monastic life, in spite of its particular austerity, can hope to bring together the necessary conditions for the maturation of a well-balanced community, provided, of .course, that those who bind themselves to the com-munity by profession are freely and maturely responding to a true call from the Lord. Saint Bernard noted that "the variety of our observ-ances forestalls tedium and acadia." In this variety we wish to find more and more the original Benedictine equilibrium, balancing sacred reading, the "Work of God" and labor. This is in effect "what Saint Benedict said, or rather the Holy Spirit in Saint Benedict. He did not say that we ought to be attentive to reading, as Mary, and omit the corporal work of Martha. He rec-ommended both to us, assigning certain times to the occupation of Mary, and others to that of Martha'." 7 That sincere love of our brothers which favors the full development of the affective life of each is also an im-portant factor for equilibrium in our life. The Cistercian Life in the Presence of the World Today +~, 38. If we do not, in fact, exercise any specialized serv- ÷ ice in the Church of Christ, we are nevertheless con- 6Plus XII, Allocution to the Congress on Oriental Monastic Studies, April 11, 1958 (Acta Apostolicae.Sedis, v: 50 (1958), p. 285. ~ St. Aelred, Sermon ~or the Feast ol the Assumption (P.L., v. 195, col. 307). Charter o] Charity VOLUME 27,.1968/, . 1009 REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS 1010 scious that in virtue of the plenitude of love towards which we are tending we must dedicate ourselves to im-planting and strengthening the reign of Christ in souls, to spreading it to all the universe (cf. LG 44). "The contemplative life belongs to the fullness of the presence of the Church" in every region (AG 18). We wish to be truly part of the Church-as-sacrament according to the role that is proper to us, over and above that which is proper to all religious. 39. Fundamentally, our Cistercian life is a living man-ifestation of the most profound dimension of the mys-tery of the Church: the ineffable love of Christ and his Spouse, in the Holy Spirit. This aspect is certainly present in every authentic Christian life but it becomes in a certain sense visible in our integrally contemplative life since our love for Christ does not call upon us to render any special form of service within the visible Church, but rather to express itself in a more exclusive and continuous dialogue with God, in the Holy Spirit. We are conscious that in order to give our full and proper witness among the people of God, contemplative prayer must wholly inform our lives. With all our hearts, we wish to be "men of God," in body as well as in spirit; that is, in such a way that all our activities come to have a certain transparency, visibly reflecting in each of our undertakings our contemplative union with Christ and the Father. Thus may we render visible the intimacy of the Church with her Spouse, and, in Christ contemplating on the mountain (cf, LG 46), the intimacy of the Church with the Father, in the Holy Spirit. 40. United in a community of love, under an abbot who holds the "place of Christ in the monastery" (RB 2,2), we contribute as do all the other religious brother-hoods in the Church, to showing forth to all the ideal of the Christian community as it was traced out by the Lord. Furthermore, the unity of the brethren manifests, by the fulfillment of his commandment, that the Lord has indeed come. "By this shall all men know that you are my disciples, that you have love for one another" (Jn 13,35; 17,21). 41. In their own way, our radical asceticism and the simplicity of our live have special value as signs. Tran-scending the goods of the earthly city, the life of the desert is beyond even the profession of the evangelical counsels as an effective sign of the eschatological reali-ties. This life reminds men that the "world as we know it is passing away" (1 Co 7,31). "For (as William of Saint Thierry said) your simplicity provokes many men to emulation; your poverty, so complete and so spiritual, confounds the cupidity of many; your silence creates in many a distaste for those things which cause or seem to cause so much excitement and noise." 49_. If our integrally contemplative life, our brother-hood, and our radical asceticism enable us to partici-pate in the sacramentality of the Church in the world today, our vocation is also a commitment to the service of all men as our brothers. Our participation in the Church-as-sacrament is realized, not only by the wit-ness of our lives, but also by our activities. Our principal obligation toward mankind is that of prayer and redemptive penance. Through these we exer-cise a role in the conversion of man to God (c[. AG 40). Interceding for our brothers and filling up in our bodies what "still has to be undergone by Christ for the sake of his body, the Church" (Col 1,24), we realize that we exercise in depth the priesthood shared by all Christians. 43. In extending hospitality to all who come to the monastery, we wish to respond to the desire ex-pressed by many pastors that our monastic communi-ties might be spiritual oases where all, believer and unbeliever alike, might come to seek spiritual rest after their labors in the city of man, and where we might mutually encourage one another (cf. 1 Th 5,11). "The joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the men of this age, especially those who are poor or in any way afflicted, these too are the joys and hopes, the griefs and anxieties of the followers of Christ," so that nothing genuinely human ought to fail to raise an echo in our hearts (cf. GS 1). Receiving every man who comes as if he were Christ himself, we should re-lieve the poor, clothe the naked, help those in trouble and console the sorrowing (cf. RM 53,1; 4,14-15.18-I9). In order that our monasteries might be "sources [or the upbuilding of the Christian people" (PC 9), we will want our guest to share as fully as possible in our spiritual riches, in our liturgical life, in the fraternal love that our communities should perfectly express. The Holy Spirit, distributing his charisms for the service of the local Church, will not fail to give some monks an aptitude for spiritual dialogue with the guests, for directing souls with judicious counsel, and for sharing the fruits of wisdom that have been drawn from Christ in the solitude and silence of contemplation. Some of us are called to the priesthood, responding to a freely given and personal call from God, according to the needs of the place. Fully compatible with the con-templative life and withdrawal from the world, a monastic priesthood of ministry exercised among the guests as well as within the community can produce very 4. Charter o~ Charity VOLUME 27, ~.968 lOll REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1012 valuable fruits both for the monastery and for the local Church. Finally, by a generous and completely open hospital-ity we hope to make a contribution to the ecumenical endeavors of the different churches. By contact with our monastic brotherhoods which simply aim at estab-lishing an ideal milieu in which to live the Good News of Christ in its fullness, our separated brethren can easily recognize the spiritual riches which we hold as a common heritage. 44. Although we are not ordinarily called to fulfill a specific apostolic function within the Church, neverthe-less we always remain open, as true sons of Saint Benedict, to a special appeal to express the charity of Christ in particular circumstances. In this way we follow the "spirit" and example of our Cistercian Fa-thers who were continually open to the concerns of the universal Church and ready to respond to the de-mands of charity addressed to them as individuals or as communities. 45. Nor will we neglect to help humanity, with all the potential offered by our particular charism to transform and perfect the world, to participate in the development of cultures by cooperating in the effort of civilization and by working at a better distribution of material goods among peoples and individuals. In this we are conscious of following the path traced by our Fathers and the whole Benedictine tradition. For "it is he [Benedict] principally and his sons, who, with the cross, the book, and the plough, brought Christian progress to peoples extending from the Mediterranean to Scandinavia, from Ireland to the plains of Poland." s At this moment in history when it is given to man, thanks to the progress in science and technology, to develop himself more fully by an ever more marvelous mastery of the dynamisms of creation and by responsi-bly cooperating with God in the realization of the values of this world, we can render many services to the Church and the human family by our commitment. Nevertheless we are profoundly convinced that the pil-grim Church has need above all of our contemplative life: of men and women, who, by a life more visibly turned to God and the realities to come, remind all men that the most fundamental dimension of their existence is their personal relation with the God of our Lord, Jesus Christ, remind them that while all things are ours, we are Christ's and Christ is God's (cf. 1 Co. 3,22-23). s Pius XII, Homily oI september 18, 1947 (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 39 (1947), p. 455. ERNEST E. LARKIN, O.CARM. Scriptural- 7 heological Aspects oJ Religious Life The concept* of Christian perfection has moved from an almost unilateral emphasis on the eschatological and transcendent aspects of Christian life into the per-spectives of person, community, and social conscious-ness. Pre-Vatican II thinking saw the religious vocation less in terms of becoming a person, creating community, and being involved in the great social issues than in personal detachment and a supernatural charity nour-ished by spiritual exercises and the observances of the cloister. The emphasis has shifted now to these new values which bring in the role of terrestrial values. Life is seen as a building of a universe in which the in-dividual and society are the agents. A man constructs his life through his multiple relationships with his fellows, through being-with-others, through his history. Simplistically and often in exaggerated reaction, sweep-ing changes are urged in the name of this new phi-losophy: silence must cede the place of honor to dialogue, s~litude to community, prayer to a peace march or poverty program, spiritual love to human affection, blind obedience to collegiality, poverty to having the most efficient equipment for the work we do. It thus becomes apparent how necessary it is to review from a theological point.of view the very foundations of re-ligious life in order to evaluate the changes in religious theory and practice that are occurring. Religious Lqe in General According to one recent writer the task of rethinking religious life in postconciliar terms is almost impos-sible (J. Mahoney in National Catholic Reporter, March 6, 1968). Religious life, he says, is Gnostic and Jansenis-tic in its opposition to the world so that it is poisoned * This is the text of a talk given June 26, 1968, to the Conference of Major Superiors of Religious Men held at Mundelein, Illinois. Ernest E. Larkin, O.Carm., professor of spiritual theol-ogy at Catholic University, lives at 1600 Wesbster St., N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20O17. VOLUME 27~ 1968 1013 Ernest E. Larkin, O.Carm. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1014 in its roots. As an "esoteric sub-culture" with its "Stoic discipline" and "unearthly spirituality," it is a counter-sign and parody of Christian baptism. This is a harsh judgment; but one that serves to remind us that re-ligious life must be above all Christian life, rooted in Christ, the Gospels, and the Church. I~ one distinguishes renewal and adaptation and identifies renewal as revitalization of the substance, whereas adaptation is adjusting forms and structures, the primary task before us is renewal. It is a new realization of the radical Christian dimensions .of re-ligious life. Religious life is "a following of Christ" (PC 2a),1 "a sharing in the life of the Church" (PC 2c), a life in the Spirit (PC 2e). The principal agent of renewal is the Holy Spirit who calls religious to return to Christ in faith and personal decision. Existing struc-tures stand under judgment. They must be rethought and, as necessary, revamped in terms of authentic Gospel spirituality and the concrete realities of our day (PC 2d). What is obsolete, that is, irrelevant (PC 20; ES 17),2 is to be expunged; what is valid is to be revivified; and viable new ways of implementing the ideal are to be created. Religious life is baptismal life; otherwise it is a thief who "enters not by the door into the sheepfold but climbs up another way" (Jn 10:1). Religious life is a "special" way of Christian life (LG 44;3 PC 1), because it is the way of the evangelical counsels institutionalized in the Church. The evangeli-cal counsels, which are "manifold" (LG 42) and meant for all Christians, are reduced in this case to the three values of chastity, poverty, and obedience. These coun-sels can be lived independently of religious life (LG 42) or concretized in an approved institute in the Church (LG 43). In the latter case they identify the religious life. The documents stress the theological significance of the counsels, their relation to charity, hope, axed faith. The legal bonds in the form of vows, oaths, or promises express the dedication to the ethical values in an approved institute and are necessary as human in-struments for the stability and permanency of this state, even as they promote the more basic value of "freedom strengthened by obedience" (LG 43). The vows are servants of faith, hope, and charity; hence they are open to revision, that is, dispensation, when the religious state, which is permanent, becomes a hin-drance rather than a help to faith, hope, and charity. x PC throughout this article refers to Vatican II's Per[ectae cari-tatis (Decree on Religious Lile). ~ ES throughout this article refers to Paul VI's Ecclesiae sanctae. 8 LG throughout this article refers to Vatican II's Lumen gentium (Constitution on the Church). The evangelical counsels and the theological virtues, in other words, are the operative principles of religious existence, in the mind of the Council. The history of the text of Perfectae caritatis illustrates the shift in emphasis from law to spirit in the conciliar thinking about religious life. Is religious life a superior way of Christian life? Chapter VI of Lumen gentium and the decree Perfectae caritatis imply a higher excellence when they refer to the "special" nature of this life (LG 44; PC 1), when they use comparatives in stating that religious are "more intimately consecrated" to Christ and enjoy a union with the Church by "firmer and steadier bonds" (LG 44), and when they emphasize the "unique" eschatological sign value of the religious state (LG 44; PC 1). All of these citations, however, refer to grace offered, not to grace lived. The Council, as is well known, eschewed odious comparisons between one state and another and underlined the universal call to holiness in all the baptized. It refused to speak of states of perfection and took the personalist approach to different vocations in the Church by stressing the uniqueness of each call and the complementarity of all vocations. The mind of the Council is summed up in the dictum: "Your vocation is the best, indeed the only one, for you." It might have cited the words of O. W. Holmes: "Every calling is great when greatly pursued." In summary, we can maintain, it seems to me, that a religious call is objectively a higher grace th~n the married vocation, but in the teaching of the Council one's state or way of li~e is as good as it is lived. Why then does a Christian choose the religious life? It is an "outstanding gift of grace" (PC 12), a charism; and ultimately the conviction that one has been offered this grace is the only valid reason for entering religion. But the judgment is made on the basis of self-knowledge whereby the candidate believes that in view o~ his limitations and potential this way of life offers him the best possibilities for his human and transcendent selbfulfillment (see Development of Peo-ples, n. 16). Given the appropriate emotional maturity presupposed for any life-choice, whereby the individual recognizes the values in each option and is free enough to choose either one, human or psychological factors enter the decision in favor of religious life as for marriage. The religious answers a call, but one heard in the depths of his own human aspirations. He does his "thing" as laymen do their own, and together they express different dimensions of human existence as well as different aspects of the whole gospel. Religious life, in other words, is a human value as well as an other- 4- Religious Liye VOI.UMt= 27, 1968 1015 ÷ ÷ ÷ Ernest E. Larkin, O.Carm. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1016 worldly one. It is important today to see religious life under this double aspect. Otherwise it may not appear as worth the burden to contemporary Christians, who deeply sense Karl Rahner's definition of man as "that being who must necessarily realize himself in love in order to correspond to his own being" (The Word in History, ed. T. Patrick Burke, New York: Sheed and Ward, 1966, p. 70). I shall try to develop these values by first showing the Scriptural basis for each of the evangelical counsels and then by indicating the positive values for the person, the Church, and the world in these evangelical counsels. Scriptural Basis Consecrated chastity, or virginity "for the sake of the kingdom," is a New Testament value explicitly taught by St. Matthew in these words of the Lord: Not all can accept this teaching, but those to whom it is given. For there are eunuchs who were born so from their mothers' womb; and there are eunuchs who were made so by men; and there are eunuchs who have made themselves so for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let him accept who can (Mt 19:11-2). Both the source and the goal of the charism of evangelical virginity are taught in this passage. Neither physical impotency nor psychological ineptitude nor social pressure grounds the choice of virginity over mar-riage for a follower of Christ. Virginity "for the sake of the kingdom" is a gift freely accepted, not out of timidity or selfish bachelorhood, but precisely "for the sake of the basileia." It is ordered to charity. This is"its positive content: it frees the heart for love (PC 12); it is a "sign and incentive of charity" (LG 42). The charism of evangelical virginity makes it possible for a Christian to love God and his fellowmen intensely without the normative and natural support of mar-riage. A second locus classicus in the New Testament is St. Paul's words in 1 Corinthians 7, especially verses 25-35. Paul is addressing himself to practical cases in the Corinthian church. In view of a parousia that may occur imminently, he advises the Christian converts to maintain their present status, married or virginal, waiting with a certain freedom and detachment as "this world as we see it posses away" (v. 31). The advice is ad hoc and pragmatic, in view of "the present distress" (v. 26). Even the general principles which he enunciates in the latter half of the passage are to be interpreted in the context of an imminent parousia: He who is unmarried is concerned about the things of t~e Lord, how he may please God. Whereas he who is married is concerned about the things of the world, how he may please his wife; and he is divided (vv. 32-3). In the context of the Corinthian church, there is no doubt that in Paul's mind virginity is a better way. It disposes for contemplation, for "praying to the Lord without distraction" (v. 35), much as earlier in the chapter Paul allows abstinence from intercourse by mutual consent by husband and wife in order thht they may give themselves to prayer (v. 5). Is Paul also teach-ing as a universal principle that virginity practically speaking is a better way for the Christian than mar-riage? Exegetes generally seem to have thought so, but some recent commentators restrict the teaching to the extremely eschatological perspective of the Corinthian problem. In this reading Paul is not explicitly asserting a universal superiority for virginity. But there is no doubt in Paul's mind of the particular merits of vir-ginity for the cultivation of what we call today the vertical aspect of Christian life. The paragraph devoted to poverty in Per[ectae cari-tatis (n. 13) cites a number of texts which single out different aspects of the Old Testament theme of the anawim, the poor people of God. The first citation, 2 Corinthians 8:9, holds up Jesus himself, who "though he was rich, for our sakes became poor." Alan Richard-son writes of these words: "It is Jesus himself who embodies the biblical idea of 'the poor man' who trusts only in God, and herein lies the real theological significance of his poverty" (A Theological Word Book of the Bible, ed, Alan Richardson, New York: Mac-millan, 1962, p. 169). Other texts cited reinforce the interior attitude of trust in God (Mt 6:26), resting one's security in God and not in earthly treasures (Mt 6:20), being detached enough to share everything with the poor (Mr 19:21), with those in need (Mt 25:34--45; Jas 2:15-6), in effective acts of fraternal love (1 Jn 3:17). The interior attitude of trust, openness, and detach-ment is primary; but it thrives best in actual poverty, in renouncing riches in favor of the poor, and experi-encing, therefore, the insecurity of the anawim who are thrown upon the Lord's care and driven to hope in Him since they have no worldly prestige and influence on which to rest their security. Even Matthew 19:21 cannot be invoked as a proof text for voluntary re-ligious poverty, since the context indicates a universal norm of total renunciation for all Christians. Religious life specifies that recommendation in an institutional form, whereby persons become poor "both in fact and in spirit" (PC 13) in order to create the ideal disposi- + Religious Lif~ VOLUME 27, 1968 1017 Ernest E. Larkin, O.Carm. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1018 tion for centering their lives in God and giving gener-ously to their fellowmen. The Scriptural basis for poverty, then, lies in the long tradition of the anawira, celebrated in the first beatitude in both Matthew (who extols' poverty of spirit) and Luke (who proclaims actual poverty). While religious poverty is not primarily a socio-economic con-dition, it cannot be reduced to mere lack of owner-ship or legal (often legalistic) dependence on superiors' permissions. Religious poverty is an experience of emp-tiness and felt need for God created by the lack of significant worldly resources. It is a visible witness to the pilgrim status of the Church, but its essential spirit animates rich and poor alike in the Church who place their resources at the service of men. Obedience in the Bible is the equivalent of hearing, that is, responding to the word of God; hence for Christians it is an exercise of faith. Thus in St. Paul Abraham "believed in God" (Rm 4:3), while in Gene-sis Abraham "obeyed God's voice" (Gn 22:8; 26:5). The decree presents Christ's example of love and obedience to the will of His Father (for example, Jn 4:34) recog-nized in the institutions of His own earthly existence (Hb 5:8) in total service of His fellowmen (for example, Mt 20:28) as the root of religious obedience. Voluntary choice of submission to a religious regime beyond the hierarchically constituted structures of the Church is not taught explicitly in the New Testament. Religious obedience, therefore, is a development. Theologians have endeavored to work out a theory of religious obedience (for example, K. Rahner, Hill-man, Tillard, 0rsy). The following reflection assimilates some of this thinking. Religious institutes are charismatic interventions of the Holy Spirit approved by the Church but not part of the hierarchical structure. The com-munity is the bearer of the charism; hence the exercise of authority and obedience in the group is eminently collegial. But religious communities are not free-floating bodies independent of the Church. They exist in the Church, and the superior is the. link between the teach-ing and ruling authority in the Church and the religious community. While religious obedience, therefore, can-not be reduced to a simple equation of the superior's will and God's will in a magical fashion, still the superior remains the authority, the last word, as it were, in debate and dialogue (PC 14). In summary, religious obedience finds its justification in the individ-ual members subordinating themselves to a community effort guided by the Holy Spirit in a life-form of service that has the guarantee of the Church for its evangelical validity. The new ordering of the three counsels, with chastity placed in the first place, is intended to bring out the radical and central role of evangelical virginity in the formation of a religious life. It is the charism which sets an individual and a community apart. Virginity im-plies dose companionship with Christ, an affinity for prayer, and the freedom to dedicate all one's energies to the kingdom. Poverty is a condition for this positive content of chastity. Like celibacy itself it aims to create an emptiness and disponibility so that one is free to "use the world as though not using it" (1 Cor 7:31), having nothing but possessing all things. Obedience is the way of insuring the ecclesiastical character of this venture. Chastity forms a celibate community of love in the Church. With6ut poverty the celibate community gives no witness; without obedience it lacks *mission. The poverty must be visible, and obedience must be responsi-ble search by the whole community for the Spirit. All three counsels together, therefore, structure the gift of the Spirit which is religious life. Values of the Evangelical Counsels We shall consider the meaning of the vows on four different levels suggested by Cardinal Doepfner in a conciliar speech at Vatican II. These four levels are the ascetical, the ecclesial, the apostolic, and the eschato-logical, all of which are designated values in para-graph 5 of Perfectae caritatis. Ascetical Value The ascetical value, which refers to the vows as means of personal sanctification, corresponds to the first prin-ciple of renewal, personal union with Christ (PC 2a). The ascetical significance is the key. Whatever the role in the Church of a particular community, "the mem-bers of every community, seeking God solely and be-fore everything else, should join contemplation, by which they fix their minds and hearts on Him, with apostolic love, by which they strive to be associated with the work of redemption and to spread the kingdom of God" (PC 5). The religious vocation is a call to con-templation and apostolate addressed to all religious. The vows are renunciations of recognized earthly good for the prosecution of this double personal goal. If, however, sexuality, property, and the exercise of personal judgment and decision are the raw material for growth into personhood, as is recognized today, will not the vows frustrate the maturity which is pre-supposed for a life of prayer and action? Why then renounce these human goods? The answer is that the ÷ ÷ ÷ neUglous Life 1019 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1020 vows do indeed presuppose a basic adult self-possession, freedom, and responsibility. This is why only balanced persons, who relate well to their peers, the opposite sex, and superiors, who have a healthy psychic as well as physical development, should be accepted for reli-gious profession (see PC 12). But the vows take human growth a step further to an even higher fulfilment. The Development of Peoples puts the matter well: . human fulfilment constitutes, as it were, a summary of our duties. But there is much more: this harmonious enrich-ment of nature by personal and responsible effort is ordered to a further perfection. By reason of his union with Christ, the source of life, man attains to a new fulfilment, to a trans-cendent humanism which give him his greatest possible perfec-tion: this is the highest goal of personal development (n. 16). The vows, therefore, are no mere negations: "What are called the inhuman imperatives of the Gospel could just as well be called pointers to unexpected possibili-ties" (Concilium General Secretariat, "Stirrings in Re-ligious Life," in Renewal and Reform of Canon Law, New York: Paulist Press, 1967, p. 171). The vows apply the paradox of human life and the gospel, so that by giving we receive, by renunciation we possess. Ulti-mately only renunciation is the way to the hundredfold and to full humanity (see LG 46). The counsels are not defenses against life, protections for an individ-ualistic "spiritual life" against one's body and the world. They are secrets of growth in an age that has perhaps forgotten the necessity of renunciation for true love. If they are lived loyally and faithfully so that the limitations of human nature and of the finite are ex-posed, if they are renewed daily in the free choices that present themselves in .an adult £ashion, and not by legalistic, almost unwilling conformity, they promise the Resurrection as well as the cross and the fullest humanity. Religious are criticized for immaturity, mediocrity, and lack of joy. Besides the inevitable human failings the fault may lie in the beginnings, in the acceptance of candidates who are too immature to make the re-nunciations of the vows or in formation policies that preclude further development of the person. Com-munities should take a long, hard look at the age level and psychological condition of their candidates and the kind of novitiate and juniorate training that is given. Or the fault may lie in the failure of com-munities to create the atmosphere of openness and trust that will allow persons to carry out in freedom the implications of their vows. Liberty, not overbear-ing law, is the only atmosphere in which the Christian life of renunciation can thrive. Ecclesial Value The opening paragraph in Per[ectae caritatis makes dear that the rule of religious is a double one of being and function, consecration and apostolate, witness and mission. These roles overlap, but they correspond to the ecclesial and apostolic meaning of the counsels respec-tively; they also enter the final category of this paper, the eschatological value of religious life. Our division, therefore, is inadequate, but one that, hopefully, suits the purpose of exposition. This call to being, to consecration, to witness in the Church is the call to holiness, not in a purely trans-cendent, vertical fashion, much less in an individ-ualistic way, but in community as in the present mani-festation of the kingdom before the visible return of Christ at the parousia. Religious create communities of fraternal love. They are paradigms of the Church itself, either after the manner of the Jerusalem commu-nity as in the case of monastic orders, or in the tradition of the Pauline churches which looked outward as with modern apostolic communities. The structuring of these two types of community is different, one ad intra, the other ad extra;, and each religious institute must choose between the two according to its own nature and goals. Too long have apostolic communities endeavored to live by a monastic schedule and mystique to the detriment of both professional excellence and religious growth. In both monastic and apostolic communities, however, the witness value for the Church lies in visible charity that unites the members and, in the case of apostolic communities, creates community outside. The evangelical counsels make religious community possible, first, by creating a need for it, and, secondly, by giving a particular physiognomy to the celibate community. Celibacy needs the support of living com-munity: "Let all, especially superiors, remember that chastity is guarded more securely when true brotherly love flourishes in the common life of the community" (PC 12). Priestly celibacy is a problem where priests have to live without this human support. The religious house must be home for its members, where individuals can be themselves~accepted, welcomed, understood-- where they are treated as persons and not functions or numbers that man the machinery of a rigid horarium and overcommitted apostolates, where genuine friend-ships prevail, in a word, where the religious like to return to from their apostolic labors. The horarium and observances will depend on the nature of the com-munity work, and the primary concern will be. to create an atmosphere of peace and friendship. Where 4. VOLUME 27, 1968 1021 4. 4. 4" Ernest E. Larkin~ O.Carm. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1022 love is, God is; where two or three are gathered in His name, there is the presence of the Lord. This means among other things that recreation is as important as faculty meetings and cordiality as necessary as zeal. The celibate community complements the married community, and Christian love is at the heart of both. Celibate love manifests its own constellation of the qualities of Christian love: it highlights the freedom, the all-embracing, non-exclusive character of Christian love that gives without looking for a return. Human love that leads to marriage draws two people apart from the community to form one person (one flesh, one family) whereas celibate love emphasizes the other-ness of the one loved. Each love has something to teach the other, and both participate in the same love that animates the union of Christ and the Church. Each expresses part of the Christian mystery, celibacy the freedom of the sons of God, marriage the identification love causes and the intimacy it seeks. The consecrated virgin reserves identification for the Lord and bestows his love on the People of God freely. Even his intimate friends do not close him off from others, for he can call no one his own. His interpersonal relationships, there-fore, have a phenomenology different from the friend-ships that lead to or exist in marriage. His way demands faith in God and trust in his fellowmen; but he stakes his very life on the principle that by giving he re-ceives, by loving he is loved. The other vows make the witness of celibate love a reality. Poverty in its Biblical meaning must be visible. Some ways suggested in the documents are the sharing of one's goods, one's time, one's love inside and out-side the community, identifying with the poor and experiencing their insecurity by belonging to a religious family that is not obviously affluent but has to work hard and stint in order to survive. Experimentation and creative expression in new forms are needed to witness poverty, both personally and as a community, both to our affluent society and to the deprived and destitute peoples in our land. Without real poverty the witness of celibacy speaks to no one, because the kind of charity that is its touchstone will not be seen. Renewed obedience contributes to this witness inso-far as it is more responsible, more collegial in character, when "holy disobedience" need not be a contradiction in terms. An autocratically oriented Church with a strictly vertical obedience, in which the superior has all the answers and takes sole responsibility for deci-sions, tends to keep people in a state of perpetual childhood and creates a "gimme" syndrome rather than a "giving" service. In adapting to democratic methods, obedience need not suffer; it does not become majority rule or the totally "dialogal" type condemned in the decree (n. 14). Authority remains, but "an active and responsible obedience" gives it balance and allows the whole community to be actively engaged in community service, Apostolic Value The practical contribution of religious institutions to the social apostolate of the Church is evident. Without this army of low-paid, dedicated workers, as Pope Plus XII remarked, the Church's work of education and service would collapse. But the external aposto-late of religious is secondary. Paul VI scored "the false idea that the first place should be given to the works of the external apostolate, the second to con. cern for our spiritual perfection, as though such were the requirement of the spirit of our age and the needs of the Church" (Magno gaudio, May 23, 1964). The Council itself sees the apostolic work for the kingdom promoted in two ways, by "prayer or by active undertakings" according to the nature of a given order (LG 44); and in the case of apostolic orders it inserts "charitable activity" into "the very nature of the religious life" (PC 8). The mission of religious in the Church, indeed of the whole redemptive apostolate of the Church, lies on a deeper level than the pragmatic. The apostolate springs from union with Christ and consists in participation in the Paschal mystery of kenosis and resurrected life as expressed by prayer and work. More concretely, the apostolate o£ the Church is the same as Christ's, to break down the middle wall of partition (Eph 2:14), creating community inside and outside the local re-ligious community itself. It is the work of charity, of self-emptying, that allows God's love for mankind to filter into the lives of others through the agency of those who are bearers of that love. They must possess this love before they can be its instruments. To live and ex-press fraternally this gift of God's love means "the bearing about in our bodies of the dying of Jesus in order that the life of Jesus may be manifest in our bodily frame" (2 Cor 4:10); in this way "death is at work in us, but life in [the community]" (ibid, v. 12). The apostolate, in other words, is charity, expressed in prayer or action. Far from being opposed to the witness of religious life, the apostolate is practically identified with community. Community and apostolate in the Church are thus correlatives and mutually interde-pendent. Neither one is pure means to the other. In a + + + Religious LiJe VOLUME 27, 1968 1023 given institute, especially when it strives to remain faithful to its particular "spirit and special aims" (PC 2b) in the midst of pressing local needs of the Church, there will be tensions in the structuring and implementation of the two aspects. But in general the type of community life will depend on the in-stitute's apostolate. Apostolic communities will have fewer common observances and perhaps greater flexi-bility in horaria, whereas monastic groups will sub-ordinate external involvements to~ the conventual sched-ule. The apostolic works as well as the prayer forms and religious practices should be rigorously reviewed and evaluated in view of the nature and goals of an institute, and courageous changes made as necessary. Here again a great deal of experimentation is called for in order to make the institute relevant to itself and the Church. Harmonious balance between the common life and apostolic involvement according to the insti-tute's identity is the desideratum. Once again renewal is more important than adaptation, since ultimately both community and apostolate are mere expressions of the one union of charity, of death-resurrection in the Lord. Ernest E. Larkin~ O.Carra. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1024 Eschatological Value The Biblical notion of virginity, especially clear in the New Testament, contains a strong eschatological note. The state anticipates the future messianic marriage with Christ, "that wondrous marriage decreed by God and which is to be fully revealed in the future age in which the Church takes Christ as its only spouse" (PC 12). Thus religious life is a "splendid" (PC 1) and "unique" (LG 44) sign of the heavenly kingdom. It is customary to equate this eschatological or trans-cendent quality of the religious vocation with an exclu-sive love of Christ that avoids the distraction and competition of a divided heart (1 Cor 7:32-5). But this is the vocation of all Christians. All Christians are called to a unique love of God that does not allow any creature to be placed on the same level as God; other-wise we have idolatry. In the effort to cultivate this unique love of God religious bypass one sign, that of marriage and property and independence, and assume another sign, that of physical virginity lived in poverty and obedience. The celibate community does highlight the eschatological character of Christian life, just as the married community reflects more clearly the in-carnational aspect. As two ways to the kingdom, they are not as two ways of living Christian love, totally exclusive of each other; they complement each other as witnesses of the Church's love for Christ. The hazard of the celibate community is to lose sight of the world and people, whereas-the hazard of the married com-munity is to forget the transient, passing character of the historical moment and lose sight of the Christ who is to come. Religious, therefore, are dedicated to an eschatological existence as a bias and emphasis, but not as an ex-clusive concern. Especially in the light of incarnational theology that identifies Christ's presence in the person and community, religious today are not absolved from temporal concerns, from making their contribution to human development and the building of the earth. They can engage in the same works as the laity, such as teaching, social work, any human endeavor; only their bias will be different. They come to human tasks with an eschatological eye to the future, to what is not yet, to what will come in the final age, already begun, in Christ. In this sense they live in hope. No matter how important the classes they teach or their social involvement, they bring to their work in the world a sense of the Deus semper major, of the person of Christ who is to be revealed in the parousia. Where speciali-zation is feasible, perhaps it is desirable to leave secular tasks to the laity and let religious concentrate on sacred functions. But no universal law demands such a distri-bution of tasks, and the distinction may continue the unhealthy separation of sacred and secular. We should abandon the dichotomies implicit in the phraseology, "religious first, professional second," or "religious first, apostle second." Religious are not "strangers to their fellow men or useless citizens of the earthly city" (LG 46). On the contrary they embrace the world in its truth and reality. They see it as inchoate glory, as the kingdom of God in embryo, and yet as "no lasting city," as a moment in an evolutionary process, and as less than the ultimate Good that is Christ reappearing and handing the kingdom over to His Father. In a word they live in hope, and this hope is the secret of the joy that must be their witness if it is to be true. For them as for the married joy is the surest index that they are living their vocation in Christ. Two practical questions may be raised here. First, what does the eschatologlcal vocation contribute to the Church and the world at large? Second, how does the eschatological emphasis affect the prayer life and selbdenial of religious? The first question is answered admirably in Lumen gentium. Religious are "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 Christian ÷ ÷ ÷ l~eligious Li]e VOLUME 27, 1968 1025 Ernest E. Larkin, O.Carm. vocation" (LG 44). Why is this assertion made? Because religious represent the presence of Christ Himself "con-templating on the mountain, announcing God's king-dom to the multitude, healing the sick and the maimed., doing good to all" (LG 46). The second question is more complex. Since prayer and self-denial are founded on the eschatological di-mension of Christian life, it is to be expected that re-ligious life will be characterized by these acts. But both. prayer forms and the practices of self-ddnial must be-come more incarnational. Prayer should become the loving awareness of Christ present in human mani-festations. Such prayer is nourished above all by Sacred Scripture and the liturgy, the only two sources of "the spirit and practice of prayer" explicitly signaled out by Perfectae caritatis (n. 6). Thus mental prayer as con-frontation with the word of God is more important than a multiplicity of devotions (ES, n. 21). For re-ligious as for the whole people of God the liturgy weds the human and divine and is the summit and source of Christian life (Constitution on the Liturgy, n. 2, n, 10). Self-denial too'will take on a more human dimen-sion. The cross is one's daily life, and it is present wherever Christians endeavor to be an Easter people. The self-denial of religious, therefore, will be the self-renunciations inherent in being all things to all men, in fostering community, in giving generously in the apostolate. As a disposition for this life a disci-pline, an ascesis, is necessary. Today this discipline would better consist in the cultivation of the openness, understanding, welcome, and patience that are the necessary framework in which charity can operate rather than in the corporal penances and often mean-ingless gestures of some religious rules. Conclusion We have tried to set down the broad theological principles of religious life. On this background the practical questions about religious life today can be raised and discussed. The basic question which must guide this inquiry is this: In the welter of change and conflicting ideas, where is the Holy Spirit speaking? To what is He calling American religious at this time? The paper offers some guidelines in which to pursue this question', but only in honest and prayerful dialogue can we ask the right practical questions and move in the direction of the Holy Spirit's answers. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1026 L JAMES O'REILLY Lay and Religious States oJ Life: Their Distinction and Complementarity If we must have a fight, let us have a good fight: not shadow-boxing with peripheral questions but hand-to-hand engagement on basic issues, a battle of wits, not a conflict of emotions. Here in the Southland we find ourselves in the midst of a controversy over the subject of renewal of the religious life. Some view the con-troversy as a jurisdictional struggle between religious independence and episcopal authority. The charismatic is threatened by the institutional. Others discern here a clash between modernity and antiquity, between youth and age, between male and. female, between classic and romantic. Others think that they detect a conflict between Perfectae caritatis and Gaudium et spes. No doubt all of these elements are present in the chorus of debate, but only as screechy overtones to a fundamental note. They are present as coloring and obscuring that which is .at the heart of the matter, namely, a just conception of the distinction between the lay and religious states of life, and, flowing from this, a question of the significance of religious presence in the professional world. If we are to have a good fight, this is what we must concentrate upon. We must come to grips more effectively on this central ground instead of wasting our energies on local skirmishing. As a first approximation to a final position, let me venture the statement that the distinction of lay and religious states arises out of the need to provide a system of checks and balances in the general effort of Chris-tians to make an integral response to the human con-dition. Let me elaborate briefly. The human condition is described, at least, in the Christian world, as one of fallen creaturehood moving forward toward a saving James O'Reilly is a faculty member of St. John's Semi-nary; 5012 East Seminary Road; Ca-marillo, California 9301O. VOLUME 27, 1968 1027 games O'Reilly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1028 consummation in Christ. That movement, however, is mysteriously two-sided: one of simultaneous ascent and descent, of evolution-devolution, of engagement and withdrawal. Man's approach to his salvation is both a making and a being made, a doing and a being done to, an accomplishment and a gift. Running through all our days from here to eternity is a counterpoint of nature and grace, of a lifting up and a letting down, an immanence and a transcendence, a winning and a losing, a living and a dying. It is in the effort of the Christian community to keep a just balance between these counter-elements that a distinction in the public order has come to be made between the two states of life, lay and religious. The distinction of states provides a syste

Issue 7.2 of the Review for Religious, 1948. ; A. M~ D. G. Review for Religious MARCH 15, 1948 Devotion . - . o Matthew Germ;ng Mor~,Abouf Maturity . Gerald Kelly Thank~glvlng after Holy Communion ¯ ¯ Clarence McAuliffe Gifts to Relicjious-qll . Adam C. Ellis Thou'cjhts on Obed;ence. ~ edwerd J. g,rney ~ Purity of Intention . C.A. Herbst Invitation to Praise . Richerd L. Rooney ,Books Reviewed Ouesti~ns Answered VOLU~E VII, RI::::VIi W FOR RI::LIGIOUS ¯ VOLUME VII MARCH, 1948 NUMBER 2 CONTENTS DEVOTION--~Matthew Germing, S.J . 57 CONCERNING COMMUNICATIONS . 62 ~MORE ABOUT MATURITY-~Gerald Kelly, S.J. .¯. . .63 THE CHRISTIAN ADULT . THANKSGIVING AFTER HOLY COMMUNION-- " Clarence McAuliffe, S.J . 73 ~. GIFTS',~Tb RELIGIOUS III. PERSONAL VEI~SU8 COMMUNITY PROPERTY--Adam C, Ellis. S.J. 79 THOUGHTS ON OBEDIENCE--Edward J. Carney. O.S.F.S .8.7 'BOOKS AND BOOKLETS . ~. ¯ ¯ ¯ 90 PUI~ITY OF INTENTION--C. A. Herbst, S.J . 91 INVITATIQN TO PRAISE--Richard L. Rooney, S.J .95 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . " . 97 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 7. Second Year Novices Doing Work of Professed . 98 8. Postulancy not Interrupted by A'bsence . : ¯ . ¯ '98 9. Novices Perform Penance in Refectory . 99 10. Indulgences for Sign of Cross with Holy Water . 99 I 1. Informing Bishop before Renewal of Vows . 99 12. Passive Voice in Provincial Chapter . 100 13. Plenary Indulgence on Each Bead of R~.osary . I00 14. Instruments of Penance . 100 15. Absence from Novitiate. during~Sumraer . . . " . I01 16. Retreat betore Final Vows . ~. ¯ 101 ~BOOK REVIEWS-- The Way of Perfection: For Thee Alone; The Christ of Catholicism; From Holy Communion to the Blessed Trinity; The Love of God and the Cross of Jesus; Papal Legate at the Council of Trent: Schoolof the Lord's Service: Maryknoll Spiritual Directory .102 " BOOK NOTICES . '107 FOR YOUR INFORMATION-- Vacations for Sisters; Flour ~or Altar Breads; For Vacation Schools; Summer Sessions . 111 REVIEW FOR RELIGIO~JS, March, 1948. Vol. ,VII, No. 2. Published bi-monthly: January,March, May,July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topel~a. Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St.'Marys, Ka~nsas, with.ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter ~January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis. S.3., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly; S.2. Editorial Secretary: Alfred F. Schneider, S.3. Copyright, 1948, by Adam C. Ellis. Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. , Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A, Before writ;rig to us, please consult not;co on Inside back cover. - .) -Devotion ¯ . Matthew Germing, S.J. ACAREFUL READER of The ~lmitation of Christ ~vill "ret~em-bet the saying of its author, '.'I would rather feel cgmpunction similart shtaatne mkennotw in ictosn dneecfitinointi "owni.t"h ,Ith me sauyb jbeect p~ethramt iftotremds ttoh e".m tiitklee a of. this paper-: I would rather have devotion than be able to explain its meaning or kno~.its definition. I will qubte.adefinition from Father. T. Lincoln .Bouscaren~s book, Principles of the I~eligious Life (p. 36), which reads as follows: ".Devotion is nothing else th~'n the readiness.of the will to s~et to work at whatever is-for the honor and service of God." This is the theological definition and, allowing for some verbal differences, may be r~garded as .~tandard among modern theologians. It harmonizes well, ~to~o, with the etymology of. the word devotion. F~r de~'otion means being devoted, and devotednesi to God means about the same thing as readiness of ~vill to do what-ever is for-the honor and service of God. D~votion therefore in the service of God is readiness to do what God requires of us and what we know. is pleasing to Him. It is not enthusiasm, nor pious sentiments, nor a. showy manner of prayer or piety in or out of church. Rather, it is promptness and fidelity' and alacrity and generosity and hearty good will in serving God. It is an evey-ready disposition to observe God's commandments and pre-cepts, to embrace and do whatever we know will~be pleasing ~o our Father in heaven, whether He encourages us with the sweetness of His grace or leaves us.in aridity. This is substantial QL essential devotion. It resides~ essentially in the will, not in the affections merely. When it comes to be the pre'~ailing° state of mind of a per_- son, it is called ~:ervor of spiriItt-. s"p r~in "g s" from charity, ai~d in turn nourishes chamy. Ammated by this spirit, the soul bught to remain permanently devoted to God, consekrated to Hi~ honor and inte~ests, ever on the alert to take'up and carry out what her state of life or her superior tec~uires. Devotion springs from the love of God. In the words of St. Francis de Sales, a great authority on this subject: True living devotion stipposes the love o~ God: nay rathei it is nothing else than a true love ofGod, yei not any kind 0f love; for in so far as divine love 57 MATTHEW GERMING beautifies our soul and makes us pldasing toHis divine Majesty, it is called grace; in so far as it gives us strength to do good,, it is called charity: but when it reaches such a degree of perfection that it enables us not only to do good~, but to do it careffilly, frequently, and readily, then it is called devotion . Since" devotibn consists in an excelling degree of charity, it not only makes us ready and active add diligent in observing all commandments of God, but it also prompts us to do readily and heartily as many good works as we can, though they be not commanded but only counseled or inspired,z Under normal circumstances substantial devotion is often accom-panied by some measure of peace and joy and alacri_ty, even sensible pleasure and sweetness. This sensible sweetness has been given the name of accidental devotion; accidental, because it is no necessary par/ of substantial devotion, though it may and often does serve a very useful purpose. When the joy and pleasure affect the will only, they are purely spiritu.al and are styled accidental spiritual devotion, the affections having no part in them. But when the pleasure is sen-sibly felt in the affections of our sensitive nature, then we have what is properly called sensible devotion. The genuineness of sensible devotion must be judged by its fruits, not by feelings. Substantial devotion, as was said above, consists in" an ever-ready disposition °to observe God's commandments and precepts under all circumstances. If your sensible devotion strengthens you in this disposition, if it makes you more devoted to God, to duty, to rule, more humble and obedient, more considerate, and patient, more kind and helpful and forgiving, more ready to make sacrifices, and in all things more unselfish, then the probability is that your sensible devotion is genuine and from God. It would be a big mistake, however, to imagine that therefore you have attained a notable degree of virtue; it is possible that God wishes to encourage the good will you mani-fest in what is in reality a feeble beginning. What is needed on our part in such circumstances is gratitude and a keen sense of our unworthiness and" helplessness.2 It is a commendable thing to pray for devotion, substantial devotion most of.all. The founder of-at least one religious order wrote into the constitutions of his order the following rule: "All must apply themselves earnestly to the attainment of devotion according to tile measure of God's grace imparted to the'm)' And 1St. Francis de Sales. Introduction to the Devout Life, Chap. 1. $St. Ignatius' "Rules for the Discernment of Spirits" may furnish useful reading in connection with sensible devotion. Father Rickaby gives the text with a few notes in The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, Spanish and English, with Commentary, p. 143: 58 Maccho 1948 " DEVOTION the Church ha~. officially condemned the opinion that it is wrong .to desire and strive after sensible devotion. AS a matter of fact, sensible devotion is a gift of God and sometimes a help that we need in order to keep us from. falling into sin by reason of our natural weakness. Hence one may. well pray for it and, ,by the practi~ce of mortification and purity of conscience, dispose oneself to deserve it. Father de Ravignan, the celebrated preache~ of Notre Dame, Paris, wrote: _ We often complain that we have no attraction for prayer and spiritual¯ things. Certainly, if one thing is needful, it is this attraction, this taste, this unction in holy things. For if that is wanting, many other things will be wanting besides:, for what one does unwillingly, against the grain, one does badly, or at any rate, the task is a painful one. and codrage often fails for its accomplishment . If there is o~ie thing necessary, for our existence [ou~ supernatural life is meant], one treasure which we are bound to desire and to use every effort to attain, that thing is devo-tion . Without a doubt we must not serve God solely for our own consolation and for our own personal satisfaction. That wbuld be egoism. We must put the accomplishment of God's will. His glory, and His kingdom in the first place: but also. by reason of our infirmities and our weakness and in'order the.better to esfab-lish His kingdom in our hearts, we, must be filled,, not now and then. but always and forever with the love and sweetness and unction of a holy devotion.a This love and relish of spiritual thi.ngs, this sweetness and unction of a h01y devotion form an element that is beyond .the attainment of our unaided¯efforts. It must come from the Holy Ghost and His gifts, especially the gifts of wisdom, and kriowledge,_a~nd godliness (also called piety). We must implore Him in the ipirit of humilit.y and with a contrite heart, conscious of out.unworthiness and helpess, ness, but at the same time fully- confident tha,t our peti.- tion will be granted. Our Lord Himself has assured us of this in a very formal and emphatic way in a well-known passage of the Gos-pel of St. Luke about the importdnate bat successful beggar (Luke 11:8-13).It is supposed that the things we ask for will be for our spiritual good. Should God. foresee that they will prove harmful, He will refuse our specific request and answer our prayer by giving us something better instead. The Church bids us pray. "Come, Holy Ghost, fill the hearts of Thy faithful and kindle in them the fire of Thy love." Yes. each of us ought to pray in all simplicity and sincerity :, Come, Holy Spirit. ' fill my heart and mind and my will with holy thoughts and desires, with" thoughts of God and how to serve Him with more care and exactness and fidelity, with deep-felt reverence and holy fear. Teach me. O Holy Ghost, how to pray, how best to-please God by my tho.ughts, my words, my actions: enlighten me with Thy grace., showing me how to become truly humble, 8Conferences on the Spiritual Life, pp. 32, 34. 59 MXTTHEW GERMING Reoiew for Religious ufiselfish and charitable i m~a_ke me see and. recognize what is worldly in me and grant me the strength to cast it from me 'and despise it, , " 'Send forth Thy Spirit,' 0 Godma twofold spirit, the love of - God and the holy fear;of God:" In one 6f his spiritual works Father Rickaby writes: "Never since the first preaching of Christianity have the judgments of God been less thought of and less dreaded .than they are at this .day/'4 He assigns'two possible reasons: (a) increased sensitiveness to suffering, which causes men to resenL se.ve~re .punish- .ments; (b) naturalistic views of life, which have robbed multitudes of their faith or at least blunted their sense 6fthe supernatural. ~ Ai a consequence they have come to regard thet~ri~ths:of" religidn with a giddy lightheartedness, the cure for which is fear~.0f God and dread -of His anger. We would prescribe the same r~medy.--fear of God~ind dread of His anger for those Catholics who aie infected with the naturahsm and secularism that have been flooding the earth since the late war. Again, we pray, saying, " 'Se~nd foith Thy Spirit,' O God, andleave us not to our natural desires, to the promptings Of the natural man within us." ~he natural man is seldom entirely and thoroughly supernaturalized even in the cloister and the sanctuary, much less so in the world at large; and gradually he comes to be the source of e~ery kind of worldliness. Now worldliness is a great enemy of devotion. For devotion implies dedication of oneself to God and the cause of God; dedication to God in ti~rn implies determination, it implies taking life seriously, it implies earnestness and perseverance in.serving "the person and the cause that "are the object of our devotion and con-secration. Worldliness, .on the contrary, gets a man interested -, and soon inordinately interested--in the attractions, the gains and lo~sses, the 1~leashres and efijoYmdnts of'~ the" visible World. Of this ~visible scefie the beloved, disciple said: "Do not bestow your 10re on the world and what the world has to bffer. What does the ¯ world offe~? Only gratification of corrupt fiature, gratification of the eye, the empty pomp of livin~ . . The world and its gratifica-tions pass away; the man who does God's will outlives them for-ever." (I 2ohn 2:15-17.) Such"is worldliness and the worldly spirit, "gratification of cor-rupt nature," the antithesis of devotion. Devotion draws men God-ward; worldlines_s draws them down to earth and keeps them there. This is the reason why it is responsible for not a few defections from ~p. dr., p. 230. March, 1948 DEVOTION r~ligion and from the faith. St. Paul,had experience of a typical case. Writing to Timothy, he says: "Demas has deserted me, lpving this w6rld" (2 Tim. 4:9). In his letter to Philemon (vs. 24) the Apostle had referred to Demas as one of his fellow workers: here h~ records his defection from the apostolic vocation, possibly also frbm the faith. How terse, how precise the statement! "Demas has deserted me, loving this world." It is. the story of many another defection from the religious life of persons with whom the drawing power of this world proves stronger than devotion to Christ. For-tunately ihere is also a more encouraging side. If.there is any class of peopleto which devotion is-of particular interest, it is religious. Why-so? Beacuse it was devotion to God or to Christ our Lord--they come to the same ~--that prompted them to become religious. There was a time when all who at,present are ~eligious became gradually convinced that our Savior was inviting them to leave home and father and mother, to part with all they posses~sed, to renounce all merely human love, and to bestow their whole love on Jesus Christ. It was devotion that made them accept His invitation. And again, it was devotion that urged them on to make their religious profession, an act which, next to martyrdom, is the highest expression of devotion possible to man. The thousands upon thousands of/eligious in this country, both men and womeh, are each and all so many living examples of what devotion is actually accomplishing, first, for the eternal salvation and holinessof these chosen souls themselves, and then for the spiritual and tempot?al welfare of millions of people for whom they are spending them-selves. Religious are on a footing of equality with pegple who.°are not religious in regard to ,the observance of the commandments of God and the laws of the Church. They ought to be, and I believe they are, exemplary in their observance. Besides, they are bound to observe their vows and the rules of the order of which they are.mem-be, rs. By fidelity to these several obligations they fulfill, the duty that rests upon al! religious of striving for Christian perfection: " The matter of striving after perfection is some,thing that-cannot be acomplished in a week, or a month, or even a year. It is a life that demands close attention for years; and the religious must realize that it is part of human weakness to grow remiss in spiritual exet-rises that are "of daily occurrence. Frequent repetition may beget negligence; repeated negligences are apt to beget a hasty and purely 61 k CONCERNING CO)MMUNICATIONS me~hanical'way of doing ,thing,~. "Haste is th~ ruin of devotion," is the expression of St. Francis de Sales, who evidently uses devotion here in the sense of reverence and iecollection in prayer. This usage i,,: not so rare. " The Bishop of Geneva said this over 300 years ago, but ~he ~ruth 6f his saying is confirmed for our streamlined fige by no 'less an authority than Bishop Hedley, O.S.B., who adds on his own acount: "This (hast~) if persisted in, is certainly nothing less th~in mockery of God" (A Retreat, p. 270): Again St. Francis,de Sal~s says, "Believe me, only one Our Father, said with feeling and affection, is of infinitely more Worth and value than ever so great a number run o~er in haste" (Introduction to tl~e Deuout Life, Part II, Chap. I). "Show me how you say your Hail Mary," said a great Saint, "'and I will tell you how you love God." In some of the above q~o~ tations there is question of pri~ying with devotion. Devotion can be truly said to hold one to reverence and carefulness in prayer and. also, to perseverance in,one's lifelong striving for perfection. CONCERNING COMMUNICATIONS Some letters on the Subject of vacations for Sisters reached us too late for pub-lication. They will be published later. We encourage communications on this and other ~opics. New subscribers who wish to familiarize themselves with the dis-cussion on vhcatigns will find it helpful to read page 11 1 of the present number, as well as the back numbers of the REVIEW there referred to. 'To facilitate our work and to avoid confusion, we request that orrespondents observe thi~ following suggestions: 1. If you w~int your letter published, address the envelope to: . Cornmunicat;ons Department Revlew for Rel;glous St. Mary's College Sf. Marys, Kansas 2. If at allpossible, type th'e letter, double-spaced. 3. Make the letter as brief as you reasonably can, Without however sacrificing ideas for the sake of brevity. '~. sign your name and address at the end of'the letter. If, however, you do not wish your name and addres~ published, add a postscript to that effect. In the past we hard published some letters that were not signed, and we may do so again in the future. However, we cannot guarantee that unsigned letters will receive the~ same consideration as those that are signed.raTHE EDITORS. 62.' More Abou!: Ma!:urlty 'Gerald Kelly, S.3. A PREVIOUS ARTICLE contained a general description of ~'emotional maturity and a somewhat detailed discussion of one of its characteristics,x The present article will briefly sketch the other characteristics with special emphasis on points that .seem of most value to religio.us. Unselfishness Ascetical writers say much about the need and b~auty of unselfish-ness in theirtreatises about the supernatural 'virtue of charity. Psy-chologists lay anequal "emphasis on the need of unselfishness for, leading an adult life. By unselfishndss the. psychologists mean thoughtfulness of others, the ability to gioe in contradist.inction to .the childish tendency to receioe. They show how men fail in busi-ness, in professional life, in social life,, and ~bove all iri marriage because they think only of themselves andJseek only their own'gain withoUt regard for the feelings and desires of:others. They demand as a minimum for succdssful.adult life what may be called in com-mon parlance a "fifty-fifty" spirit, a.willingness to go halfway and to give. as much as one takes. The mention o'f this "fifty-fifty" spirit reminds me of a very impressi~;~ remark made by a young Catholic layman at a discussion on marriage. Most of the participants in the discussion were unmarried collegians. They had almost concluded that for a suc-cessful marriage the husband and wife should both be willing to go halfway and to share burdens equally, when this young man, who had been blessedly married for several years, startled them with these. words: I have heard and read a lot about this "fifty,fifty" recipe for a happy marriage: but my wife and I ate convinced that this isn't en6ugh. [f each is willing to go only halfway, you simply come to a dead stop. .We have found that each must be willing to go more than h.alfway. Let's call it a "seventy-five-seventy-five" basis: that gives fifty percent extra to run the house on. The ideal constantly proposed to religious certainly goes beyond the psychologist's minimum standard for maturity; yet even this minimum standard is,not infrequently higher than our actual prac- ~See Volume VII, pp. 3-9. 63 GERALD KELLY Reoieto /or Religious tice, Selfishness is a form of childishness that is not easily lald aside. It can-:'d~sgmse ~tself~m.om~ny ,f6rms and actually appear as various ~irt~ues.? for examPle, as the necessary care of health, as the protection Of o n 'e s rlghts, as kindness to a friend, "and so forth. ¯ It can change .colors like the chameleon; it can wedge into the holiest of exercises. : Even__p.sych0~logists who know little of the: ideals of the-rehg~.o.us life could pr0b~bly gi~e us a very searching and illuminating ~xamination on our unselfishness or the lack of it. They'have the distressing f~tculty of avoiding generalities and' getting down tO" pertinent particulars. For instance, if a psychologist were allowed to. invade the privacy of our examination of conscience and to question us, he would very likely include such details as these: - Do you take.the best food at table or do you leave it for others? Do you try to get the newspaper first. (if there is a newspaper) or give others this chance? Do you' monopolize, conversation or show an interest in what others have to say?_ Do you make it a point to note what pleases others, and are you willing to do .that even at the expense of your own'whims? .- Those are .samples'of~the little things that show who is'and who is not selfish. It is interesting to note that our rules or customs usually include ~ such points: and for this~reason we have probably come to think of them only in terms of religious perfection. It is enlightening, ~and perhaps humiliating, to learn that even a material-istic psychologist would examine us on those very points, not to determine whether we~are saintly religious, but merely to discover if we are" really grown up. In Testing the Spirit,~ Father Felix Duffey, C.S.C'., rightly" insists on the need of a wholehearted spirit of self;sacrifice in the religious life." The life begins with self-obla~ion,'and its true ,peace i~ had only.by those who continue.in this spirit. In my first article on the subject of emotional maturity, I referred to religious who show a marked indecision about their vocation b~cause they seem never to have actually made their decision on the one sound principle,, namely, the will of God. Perhaps one reason for this indecision is that such p~ople are not really seeking God but self. . While I was teaching a group of Sisters ,in summer school, we ~Published by- Herder, St. Louis, 1947. See p. 31 for Father Duffey's remarks on self-sacrifice. The-second part of this book (pp, 25-98) contains a number of questions designed to help a vocational counselor to judge the emotional qualifica-tions of a candidate for th~ religious life. 64 March, 19~8 MORE ABOUT MATURITY-discussed ~ome~of th~ characteristics of emotional,maturlty. The class agreed tlfi;it in° actual life some of, the marks of the truly unselfish persofi would be the ~following: a tolerant attitude, cburtesy~ tact, a ready spirit of c~o-operation, consideration for the feelings and moods of others . One'thing th]t all of us ~hould keep 'in .mind is~this: a religious gives up the normal don~olations of family life. Yet it is doubtful if anyone can entirely divest, himself of the fundamental craving for love"and attention. ~ Some people d,o this exteriorly; but usually they suffer mu~h"° i'nteri6rly '6ver' it~ or the repression does some damage to thei~ personality. Part of the supreme art of living the religious life is to show to others thd kindness and sympathy for which they naturally" crave without letting one'i chari~y degenerate into sensuous or particular friendships. ~Each religious cgmmunity, is a family, and the members should be bound .together by an affection i~hat~is familial." The unselfish person realizes this and is warm and ap~r6achable without being soft and sentimental. Commur~it~ Responsibilit~ In speaking of unselfishness, I was thinking primarily in terms of thoughtfulness of others as individuals. This is a beautiful char- ~acter trait, but it is not enough for maturity. .The mature person must also.be "group conscious," that is, alive to his responsibility to promote the common good. This subject offers religious a vast field° for personal examination: for our lives are of necessity cornrnunit~ lives, and t'he success or failure of the whole venture depends on the co-operation,0°f each individual. No one can do it all; anyone can spoil it all--at least~in some sense. ~How can we test ourselves with regard to this sense of personal responsibility in commgn enterprises? The psychologist, I believe, would examine us on all the community aspects of our lives. He would very likely ask aboht such small points as this: Do you turn off radiators and lights when they are not needed? And he would put questions of greater moment such as: Do you help to keep certain privileges like .the radio, movies, victrola, and so forth, by not abusing them?" And he would want to know especially about your pfiblic conduct, for example: Do you speak well of your commun-" ity? Do you act always in such a way that you give no one gro.unds for thinking ill of your community, your institute, the religious life,~ the whole Churcli? 65 GERALD KELLY Reoiew ~or Religious Tha~ would be a general formula for the psychologists' quds-tions: the little things, the things of greater moment, the things of tremendous.import. Into this general scheme he would insert many other questions besides those I mentioned--for instance: Do you observe library rules so that all have a chance to read the booksL Do y6u enter into .special community projects, lik~L helping the mis-sions? When you play games, are you content to work for the team or do you want the spotlight even at tl~e expense of the team? Very likely we could list pages of pertinent questions, but there. is no need of doing that here. Each one who" wishes to examine him-self. on this aspect of maturity can forniulate his own questions. The essential point behind all such questions is to determine if .the reli-gious realizes that he is a part of a community and that all the inter-ests of that community are his interests. He work~ with the com-munity at home; he represents the community to outsiders. His lack of co-operation at home can spoil the harmony of common life and dull the effectiveness' of the community as an apostolic instrument: his disloyalty or bad example before outsiders can literally bring about a spiritual catastrophe. While I am on this subject I may as well refer to another article previously published in the REVIEW. Writing about the "'Qualities of a Good Moral Guide" (V, pp. 287-88), I described a sort of professional loyalty that should characterize all counselors. The example cited was that of,a priest who might have to correct the erroneous conscience of a child. The priest might find that the error arose from wrong advice by the child's rfibther or teacher: but in correcting the error he should try as.much as possible not to under-mine the child's confidence in his mother or teacher.It is a delicate. problem, but it can be solved by one who is conscious of the fact that all the child's counselors must work togethe~r: Many such deli-cate problems occur in our lives. For example, a teacher may make a mistal~e, and the case m~y be referred td the principal. The prin-cipal must do justice to the. students; but if at all possible both principal and teacher should act in such*a way that the proper rela- .tionship between teacher and class is not. harmed. This is not merely to save the personal feelings of the tea_cher~ but principally for the good of ihe class and of the entire school. Superiors can do much to foster the sense of community respon-sibility in their subjects, especially by keeping them well-informed about community affairs and projects. Some superiors seem to think 66 March, 1948 MORE ABOUT MATURITY that they are the "official worriers" for the, community: and they tell their communities little or nothing about business plans and such things. Everything is a solemn secret, even the name of the next retreat director. It is true, of course, that some things must be kept secret;-but exaggerated secretiveness is hardly calculated to foster a personal community interest in the. individual memberWs.hen treated as children, they are quite apt to react as children. Temperate Emotional Reactions Emotions are a part of human life. Granted an appropriate stimulus, there ought to be some spontaneous emotional reaction: for instance, the sight of sorrow should provoke sympathy, the' per-ception of kindness should prompt gratitude, the perception of imminent danger should stimulate fear, and so forth. Such reactions_ are normal. Some men seem to have such dominating control over tl~eir emotions that they either do not react to normal stimuli or they repress the reaction so swiftly that it is perceptible to none save them-selves. This is not necessarily virtue, not necessarily true maturity: on the" contrary, it may be quite inhuman. The "poker face" is neither a psychological nor an ascetical ideal. Our Lord certainly showed emotional reactions fear, pity, joy, .and so forth--although ~ He was capable, if He so wished, of repressing even the slightest reaction. True maturity, therefore, consists in responding properly and temperately to emotional stimuli. To show no emotion is ii~human: to react with u'ndue vehemence is immature. Calm anger may be justified both morally and psychologically: a wild outburst is never the proper reaction. Hearty laughter may be the adult, reaction to a humorous situation or anecdote, but hysterical giggling and ,wild guffaws are signs of immaturity. Both adult and child may feel fear: and both may and should run away from danger when there is no reason for facing it. But ,when duty calls, the true adult will control his fear and face the danger, Psychologically, the specific difference b,et, ween adult and chi, ldish emotional reactions lies in control. The adult reaction is held to moderation: the childish res.ponse is an explosive outburst. The ¯ ,_ problem 'of maturity is to acquire such control of the emotions that undesirable ones are eliminated or calmly repressed as much as pos-sible and desirable ones are used with moderation. For .example, although the kind of love that leads to marriage is good in itself, it is 67 GERALD KELLY Reoieto /. or Religious undesirable for religious; hence situations that would fost.er., it should be quietly avoided. On the other h~nd, a tender love of God, pro-vided" it has real spiritual substance, is desirable and is to" be culti.; rated. And so it is,with many other emotions: sorrow for sin,, sympathy with Our Eord, affection for our friends all such things can help greatly in the religious life; and the mature attitude towards them should be ofie of reasonable use. ~ "¯ As I suggested in the previous article, it would be easyto.cull the. psychological literature for questions to bring Out the negative side; and this is particularly true of emotional control. F0.r example., here are so~e offthe negatives: Do you easily b~come fretful?. Are you impatient to carry out your impulses? Do you expl6"de over a tiny offence? Are you~ a victim of moods~--up today and down tomor~ row? Do you nurse injured feelings for a 10ng time?" Are you i:lis"2 turbed frequent.ly by haunting fears? Do you indulge, in terrific w~eping spells?_ Do, you "sulk in your tent"? Do you .look u~6n yourself as a-martyr; or'th~ victim of misunderstanding and injfis~ rice? Do you easily" gro~r hilarious? ' ' ° The purpose of thes~ ~and similar'questions is clear. If reactions such as those just mentioned are characteristic of a person, he is immature. Or/ the other hand, if he.usiaally manifests poise, if he readily adjusts himself interiorly to emotionally stimulating situa-tions he.is an adult. ¯ We can conclude this section ;by quoting the description-of adult e~notioiaal control given by Father P, aphael McCarthy, S.J., in Sat:eguarding Mental Health: The management of one's emotions demands various kinds of repressions. ~It means that a man responds with the emotion that is justified bythe circumstances: he does not allow himself to become passionate over minor provocations and he ceases to be excited when the cause of his emotion is passed. Self-government implies, aiso, that a man can moderate his affective reactions; be'can make partial responses, so that he can feel fear without being thrown into panic, he 'is not swept into a towering rage by trifling oppositions, nor does he bellow when his hat is blown off by the wind. He can, moreover, check the physical expression of l~is emotion so that he does not strike out like an imbecile whetl he is angered,¯ or dash ¯ away like a terrified child when he is frightened,s "~ Attitude on Sex There is, at least in many instances, a rather close connection between one's generhl emotional control ' and one's attitude on sex. aPublished by Bruce, Milwaukee, 1937. See p. 287 for the text quoted here. ~he book gives a.clea.r pbrtrait of the ordinary emotional difficulties and helpful sug-gestions for controlling emotions. 68 March, 1948 MORE ABOUT MATURIT'/ Thi~, will be clear, I think, if.we consider briefly what shoulci be the mature attitude on sex. The adult" should be well-informed abbut the purpose of sex and the meatiirig of chastity. Not that he needs to kno~v everything about'sex; for 'there are some aspects of sex that are definitely patho-logical ahd~ that need be known only by exper~ts. But an adult sh6uld know the-normal phenomena pertaining to the psychology and physiology of sex, and. the moral and ascetical principles that apply to the sexual sphere. Without such correct knowledge he is apt to experience the adolescent's embarrassment in the presence of others, as well as a curiosity that easily becomes°morbid. Moreover, ~with-out such knowledge, he is unable to make ;i correct estimate of his own reactions to persons and situations, and this may lead to regret-table imprudences, to extreme sensitivity, and to scrupulosity. He comes to fear sin everywhere because he really does not know what-sin is; and he. cannot cope quietly ~with temptation because he does not know clearly, what is expected of him. Ignorance and anxiety, in a matter so fundamental and important as sex are aln~ost certain.to have an unwholesome effect on one's personality and to hinder the full development of the other characteristics of maturity. Protiting bg Criticism "Are you sincerely grateful to those who point out your faults to you?" I was more than a little startled when I read that ques-tion in a maturity test drawn up by a man who. I feel sure, has little br no .appreciation of Catholic asceticism. He was thinking 0nly in terms of sound psychology; yet he included in his test a equality which we are apt to look for only in the saints. Let us consider this in terms of our own experience in the reli-gious life. Spiritual directors often, tell religious that they should be patient when others point out theii faults: in fact, it is.generally said that religious should be willin'g to have their faults pointed out by others. And at times the directors do speak of gratitude; .but my. impression is that, when there is question of religious of only ordi-nary virtue, the directors tell them to be grateful to. God. They scarcely dare to counsel gratitude to the critic; rather, they seem con-tent with hoping that criticism will not be the occasion of angry out~ ~bursts or of long-continued grudges. But the psychologist unhesb tatingly demands gratitude to the critic; the psychologist dares to enter where the spiritual director fears to tread. 69 GERALD KELLY Review for Religioffs Perhaps I have underestimated the v, irtue of religious and have made the picture too black. Yet, if superiors, spiritual directors, and critics could all pool their experiences and thus determine the ave.rage reaction of religious'when corrected, I wonder what the result would be.Would it be that correction is the cause of an angry outburst? or of sullen silence? or of tears over the "evident injustice"? or of a defiant mind-your-own-business attitude? Would.it be that cor-zection is generally answered with a "Why-don't-you-say-something-to- the-other-fellow?"' Or wouM it be that correction is usually ~eceived with quiet resignation? or with depressed spirits but an hofiest attempt to be grateful' to God "for the humiliation"? 0r.with a certain eagerness to know the truth and. with gratitude towards the one who had the courage to point it out? Some moral theologians use an expression that is in remarkable agreement with the question put by the psychologist~ They refer to fraternal correction as a "spiritual almsgiving." The implication, of course, is that the critic is doing one a favor and is' deserving of thanks. And obviously, anyone who realizes that it is-'really good ,~or hi}n to know his faults, should ~0e grateful to the person who helps him in this regard. Hence, it seems that what the psychologists call maturity in this matter, is actually the ability to appreciate true values; one realizes the utility of knowing one's own faults and the - difficulty usually experienced by.those-who have to point them out. Are we therefore childish when we resent criticism? It seems that usu~illy we are; yet there are some special factors that may make ~i difference: For instance, osome offer criticism in an offensive man-net; others offer it through spite and without sincerity. And of -course there are those people who hgve so cultivated the art of fault-finding that they" see faults where there are none. Even in cases like these' the adult should receive criticism With composure; but there seems to be little need for~g.ratitude. While I am on the subject of profiting by criticism, I might men-tion that an adul.t, even when grateful.to his critic, should receive the criticism intelligently. Whether it be a criticism of one's character, of one's writings, or of anything else, it should be weighed carefully before.it is followed. Facin~t Reality] Reality is life, the whole of life; but wtien psychologists speak of facing reality they seem to think particularly in terms of one's 70 MORE ABOUT MATURITY capacity for attempting what is difficult and for adjusting oneself to painful situations. Speaking of men who shrink from realit~ or are broken by reality, they give such examples" as these: patients who love the hospital because it affords them loving attention and dependence and shelters them from the burdens of work and respon-sibility: men who go along ,nicely in a subordinate position but break when they receive a promotion: men who can live a quiet life but break when they must be active: men who thrive on activity but cannot stand the monotony of a quiet life: men who overindulge in recreation; men who avoid the realities of life by taking to alcohol: the wife who runs to her mother at the first sign of trouble "or responsibility in marriage. Little test questions sometimes used to determine whether one has the adult ability to face reality might run somewhat like this: When you are given a job that you are afraid of or dislike, do you try to get out of it either openly or by excuses that you know are not valid? Do you get upset or go to pieces when faced with a new situa-tion that will force you out of a rut? Are you given to day- . dreaming? When you fail, do you justify yourself by.a lame excuse or do you admit the failure and try again? DQ you find that you are. wasting more and more time, finding many useless things to do, before you settle down to the real work of the day? Do you dread responsibility and try to evade it? Do you neglect the present by thinking and talking in terms of your glorious past or by boasting of your glorious future? For us religious, reality is to a great extent the duty of the moment. Disagreeable or not, that duty is God's will--and that is the supreme test of reality. Yet we do have an amazing power of dodging, consciously or unconsciously, the disagreeable tasks.- One religious neglects his studies to engage, as he says, in "works of the apostolate." Another accomplishes the same result with equal ingenuity by deciding that "he has no head for books," but he can fit himself for his future work by playing games, making gadge~ts, and so forth. And grill another shirks the mondtony of prayer and study with the consoling observation that he was "cut out for the active life." Failur~'and disappointment are among the hard realities of life. The adult is expected to face them with composure when they threaten hnd to adjust himself quietly to them when their occur. Yet is it not true that all too many religious have been broken and soured 71 MORE ABOUT MATURITY by shch things? Do we not see, at least occasionally, a rdligious still-. .~comparatively young, yet useless for further work in the cause~of Christ because he has been denied the fulfillment of some ambition? Here ]s'a problem that I believe is not uncommon among us. As we move on fhrough our years of training we note a great de~ire for accomplistiment, yet on the other hand a great fear to undertake the very things we so much desire. We feel a dread of responsibility, which~, if fostered, can ruin our whole lives. I know of one sound defense against th~is: namely, to make up one's mind to try anything that is assigned by superiors and, never to try to avoid it unless there is some really good, reason for asking the superior to reconsider the matter. A religious who begins .to yield to such fears may soon find that his self-c6nfide~ce is utterly destroyed. We can conclude this point by refe~rring for a moment to_the life of Out'Lord. From the first moment of His life He was conscious of t.wo tremendous future events: "the.Cross and the Resurrection; and the actual HYing of His life--as far as the records show-- pre~ents a simil~r pattern: failure and success, pain and~joy, the bittei and the sweet. In His life too were the security of obeying andthe responsibility' of commanding, the doing bf~little things and the 9complishing of great things, the quiet hidden life and the bustling active life. It i~ a complex pattern; yet through.it all runs a won-drously simplifying'theme it was all His Father's will. The~ .same pattern runs through our lives, and the best tonic for fear and dis-appointment is the abiding .consciousness of God's loving provi-dence. One who has this consciousness, who is able to see the hand of God and the plan of God in all the events of his life, is scarcely in danger of becoming emotionally unstable; he is admirably mature. THE CHRISTIAN ADULT Hence the t~ue Christian, product of Christian education, is the supernatural man who thinks; judges and acts constantly and .consistently in accordance with right reason illumined by the supernatural light of the example and teaching of Christ: in other words, to use the current term, the true and finished man of character. ---PIUS XI, Christian Educat{on of Y~uth 72 Thanksgiving Afi: .r Holy Communion Clarence McAuliffe,: S.J. THE decree, Sacra tridentina synodus, issued by'the Congregation ofthe Council on December 20; 1905, and approved by Plus X, promulgated frequent and even daily Communion. Among the c6nditions for daily Communion the decree includes a "careful preparation" (sedula pr'aeparado) for the Sacrament and a "fitting thanksgiving" (congrua gratiarura actio). Nothing more specific can be found in this decree. No definite time for the con-tinuance of thanksgiving is mentioned. No precise manner of " making thanksgiving is recommended. The decree simply, states that thanksgiving should be "fitting" or "suitable" or "appropriate."_ ~ -~With regard to tim(-extension, .however~ we know that a thanks-giving is "fitting" when it continues as'long as Christ remains present within us. I6deed, thanksgiving may be aptly'described as a reverent attention paid to Our Lord during ~heTtime that He abides within a person after the reception of Holy Communion. In other words, thanksgiving shouId continue until the sacred species are corrupted, for with their corruption the Savior ceases to be present. Since this time ~nn0t be determined with mathcmatlcal precision and will vary with different persons according to their health and other conditions, catechisms and theologians have laid it down as a practical norm that thanksgiving should be made for about a quarter of an hour.In practice, therefore, one who devotes about fifteen mihutes to thanks= giving is carrying out the spirit of the papal decree. It is an objective fact that priests and religious in general do make a quarter of an hour of thanksgiving after ,Holy Communion. It is possible, however, ~hat all may not be aware of certain dogmatic reasons why thanksgiving shofild continue for this .length of time. Once informe.d of these reasons they may be prompted to make their thanksgiving with greater devotion. T.hey will also be able to trans-mit these theological principles to others and thus to counteract the widespread neglect of adequate thanksgiving so noticeable among lay Catholics today. The first reason for making a thanksgiving of about fifteen min- 73 CLARENCE McAULIFFE Review for,Religious utes springs from our faith in the Real Presence and may be calle~l a reason of courtesy or propriety. If a bishop visits a convent, he receives not only a warm welcome, but also assiduous attention as long as he chooses to remain. All the Sisters meet him. As many as possible remain in his presence. He is'the focal point of the eyes and ears of all He may not have any favor to bestow, but he receives the same marks of respect anyhow. His dignity as a successor of the twelve"apostles demands courteous consideration and his visit to the convent is itself a benefit. Politeness, attention, Utmost hospitality are marks of appreciation for this benefit. Their omission would be a discourtesy. The application of this example to Holy Communion is obvious. In Holy Communion we receive Christ Himself. He comes to visit us. He is present in His entirety with His divine nature and His human nature, both beady and soul. He is identically the same Christ as He is at this very moment in heaven. He remains within Us until the sacred species are corrupted. He merits the same attention that we would infallibly bestow upon Him were He to knock upon our door with the sacramental veils removed and His own lineaments manifested to us. Hence mere civility should urge the recipient of Holy Communion to make a suitable thanksgiving. To fail in this is thoughtlessly to ignore Christ. ' But other dogmatic reasons should prompt communicants to make the recommended thanksgiving. All the sacraments confer sanctifying grace automatically, but it is quite probable that Holy Communion has in Itself the power to impart more sanctifying grace than any other sacrament. Let us suppose, for instance, that one person is about to receive confirmation: another, Holy Communion. ~Both persons have exactly the same amount of sanctifying grace and both have the same proximate preparation. In this case, it is quite probal~le that the communicant receives more sanctifying grace automatically than the person confirmed. - This is the more remark-able. when we reflect that confirmation can never be received again during an entire lifetime: whereas Holy Communion may be received every.day. The same is frue even of the sacrahaent of orders as com-ps/ red with Holy Communion. Ineffable, indeed, are the powers to consecrate, to offer the Mass, and to forgive sins, powers that are conferred upon the priest by the sacrament of orders. Nevertheless, it is quite likely that even this sacram'ent, despite the exalted dignity it bestows'and despite the fact that it, too, can never be received a 74 Marcl~, 1948 THANi