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mmmmmm+m*m0m*mm HEHCUUY VOL. XIII HO.l MARCH, 1904 1 L GETTYSBURG COLLEGE GETTYSBURG, PA. H. 0. B*SPIHEMN, urivMum 11 V HELP THOSE WHO HELP US. The {nfercollepte Bureau or Academic Costume, Chartered igon. Cotrell Sfc Leonard, Albany, JST. "5T, CQakers of the Caps, Gocuns and Hoods To the University of Pennsylvania, Harvard, Princeton, Yale, Cornell, Columbia, University of Chicago, University of Min-nesota, Leland Stanford, Tulapp, University of the South, Wel-esley, Bryn Mawr, Wells, Mt 'iolyoke and the others. Illustrated Bulletin, Samples, Etc., upon request. A. B. BLACK, Gettysburg College Representative. E. A. Wright's Engraving House, 1108 Chestnut St. PHILADELPHIA We have our own photograph gallery for half-tone and photo e lgraving. Fashionable Engraving and Stationery. Leading house for College, School and Wedding Invititions, Dance Programs, Menus. Fine engraving of all kinds. Before ordering elsewhere com-pare samples and prices. GETTYSBURG COLLEGE LIBRARY GETTYSBURG, PA. GET THE BEST The TEACHERS' AMD PUPILS' CYCLOPAEDIA. ANEW, RELIABLE an 1 BEAUTIFUL WORK OF RKFERENCE in three volumes, edited by B. P. Hoi z. A.M., far the homes, schools and colleges o* America. It has over 2,200 pages, quarto size, is absolutely new, and treats thousands of selected topics. Many prominent educators have already recommended it for gener-al use. Sample pages furnished on ap-plication. AGENTS WANTED. The Hoist Publishing Co., Boors.©, Ic-wa*. (U) l^P h r I WE RECOMMEND THESE FIRMS. The Pleased Customer is not a stranger in our estab-lishment— he's right at home, you'll see him when you call. We have the materials to please fastidious men. J. D. LIPPY, lXEe;xe;lna.nt Tailor, 29 Chambersburg Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. CITY HOTEL, Main Street, - Gettysburg, Pa. Free 'Bus to and from all trains. Thirty seconds' walk from either depot. Dinner with drive over field with four or more, $1.35. Rates, $1.50 to $2.00 per Day. Livery connected. Rubber-tire buggies a specialty. John E. Hughes, Prop. T!PM 1 Now in THE PHOTOGRAPHER. new Studio 20 and 22 Chambersburg Street, Gettysburg, Pa. One of the finest modern lights in the country. C. E. Barbehenn THE EAGLE HOTEL Corner Main and Washington Sts. BRILLHART & PARKER Students' Supply Rooms! Everything You Want. Fine Stationery a Specialty. NO. 5 AND 7 EAST. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. WE HI II COMPLETE LI Of Novelties for the Spring Season, including Latest Suiting, Coating, Trousering and Vesting. Our Prices are Right. SPECIAL CARE TAKEN TO MAKE WORK STYLISH AND EXACTLY TO YOUR ORDER. Ulill (XI. Seligman, xaiio*, 7 Chambepsburg St., Gettysburg, Pa. R. A. WONDERS Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, etc. Scott's Corner, opp. Eagle Hotel GETTYSBURG, PA. Pool Parlors in Connection. D. J. Swartz Country Produce Dealtn Groceries Cigars and Tobacco GETTYSBURG. Established 1867 by Allen Walton. Allen K. Walton, Pres. and Treas. Robt. J. Walton, Superintendent. Hummelstown Brown Stone Company, and Manufacturers of BUILDING STONE, SAWED FLAGGING, and TILE, WALTONVILLE, D", PENNA. Contractors for all kinds of cut stone work. Telegraph and Express Address, BROWNSTONE, PA. Parties visiting Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station, on the P. & R. R.R. THESE FIRMS ARE O. K PATRONIZE THEM. DO YOU KNOW WHERE The Choicest Candies, The Finest Soda Water, The Largest Oysters, The Best Ice Cream, Can be found in town? Yes, at Young's Confectionary On Chambersburg Street, near City Hotel, Gettysburg, Pa. IF YOU CALL ON C. A. Bloeher, Jeuuelef, Centre Square, He can serve you in anything you may want in REPAIRING or JEWELRY. SEFTON & FLEMMINGS LIVERY Baltimore Street, First Square, Gettysburg, Pa. Competent Guides for all parts of the Battlefield. Arrangements by telegram or letter. Lock Box 257. J. I. MUMPER. The improvements to our Studi" have proven a perfect success and 41 Baltimore St., we are now better prepared than Gettysburg, Pa. ever to give y°u satisfactory work • AM PIECE OF SHEET MUSIC Published sent postpaid on receipt of \ Q CTS. JVIUSIC CASH MONEY ORDER OR STAMPS, Inch ding the Famous March TrV-»» Cctrloff/»e now being played by the celebrated 1UB jpcHi*W-CV'VH» Ladies Orchestra, The Fadettes of Boston, now touring Ohio, Pa., N. Y., and N. J. Send for New Cata-logue and Premium List. Premium musie Supply Co. 214 fl. 8th St., Philadelphia, Pa. THE GETTYSBURG JIEHGIHY The Literary Journal of Gettysburg College VOL. XIII. GETTYSBURG, PA., MARCH, 1904 No. I CONTENTS THE FIRST NUMBER-A Po$m. 264 ALBERT BILLHEIMER, '06. WHAT'S IN A NAME, 266 Miss CARRIE INGLEBIRT, '04. TALES OF A BACHELORS' CLUB—No. 2, 268 JAMES GARFIELD DILLER, '04. THE DREAMERS, 274 MISS BESS M. DRAIS, '04. A STRONG CHARACTER, 278 C. EDWIN BUTLER, '05. COLLEGE DORMITORY LIFE, . . . . . .282 PAUL FROELICH, '04. THE VALUE OF NATURE STUDY IN RELATION TO THE THREE R'S 286 A. L. DILLENBECK, '05. EDITORIALS, 289 EXCHANGES, . 292 m 264 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE FIRST NUMBER. ALBERT BILLHEIMER, '06. wHEN all without, one winter's night, Was wrapped in shroud of purest white ; While all within was warmth and light, A strange scene was enacted. II. 'Mid classic halls, through which the blaze Of midnight oil diffused its rays, A room removed from common gaze Was filled with wild confusion. III. Close by a table sat a man With frowning look and eye that ran Around and 'round a group to scan As he thundered out commands. IV. But those before him heeded not His angry looks and words one jot; For fiercely and with passion hot, They fought among themselves. V. Through heated air, sharp missiles flew, They pulled and tore each others' queue; Their hands were red, their faces blue, And still the Mercury arose. VI. And now, what cause do you suppose, Turned former friends to bitter foes ? Why should they deal such angry blows Upon that winter's night ? THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. VII. Those seven men assembled there The worth of essays to compare ; For on them had been placed the care Of a monthly journal. VIII. An article, each man had brought, Each mind contained a single thought; To see in print the work he wrought In the MERCURY'S March edition. IX. Six articles, so each was told, That magazine alone would hold ; Not seven, not for shining gold, For that would overcrowd it. X. Which one should then withdraw his name And give up present hope of fame? Aye, that was why to blows they came For no one would give in. XI. That's the reason why they wrangled, Why their clothes in tatters dangled, Why their hair was torn and tangled, Why they fought and bled. XII. Now, dear reader, the conclusion Of this discord and confusion Was sweet peace—'tis no delusion— For the magazine appeared. 265 266 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. WHAT'S IN A NAME? Miss CARRIE INGLEBIRT, '04. WHAT'S in a name ? Half the world is ready to answer that there is a great deal, but it is not so. By Shakes-peare's character, Juliet, is brought out clearly the insignifi-cance of a name. In Juliet's estimation, Romeo would have retained his same perfection were he not Romeo called, for said she: "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." It is the power of associa-tion connected with the name. If in the English language from its very origin the word cab-bage, turnip or carrot had been applied to the queen of the gar-den, now styled the rose, the sweet violet or any other lovely flower, we would, at this day, be singing enthusiastically about the soft carrot eyes and the brilliant cabbage on the cheek. Words and names are homely or beautiful, coarse or refined, sinful or sacred, according to the associations that cluster around them. Take for example those two universally cherished names, mother and home. It is not the softness and richness of sound that makes them seem so dear, but our fond associations with each. Around the idea of one's mother the mind clings with fond af-fection. It is the first thought made upon our young hearts and one that has a lasting impression. The thought of mother f What memories does it not recall ? There's the care our mother had for us in childhood; her advice given us in our youthful years; and her never-ceasing love and devotion to the end. In all this cold, sinful world there is nothing so pure and so holy as a mother—a Christian mother's love. Oh, then, whatever time we speak half gladly, half sadly the word "mother," it is the old memories that make the sound so sweet. Why is it, if the name home be so lovely, our memory should linger so around that rustic cottage or that quaint little farm-house so many miles away ? There was only a white-washed paling fence around the little spot and old-fashioned hollyhocks and sunflowers stood like sentinels on each side the gate. There THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 267 was no elegantly trimmed shubbery, no asphalt, or gracefully laid-out gravel walks. Today we have our stately mansions with painted walls and frescoed ceilings overhead and velvet car-pets under foot—the floor of the old log house in the past was rough and bare—mirrors framed in burnished gold and pictured scenes from all lands beneath the skies adorn our walls. But do we feel the old emotion when we near this new abode ? It is not home, that name seems to belong to the far back years. We are of the world now, fashion, pride and selfishness share our splendid rooms. It is the fond memories of a cherished home that call back the sad and joyful scenes of childhood's grief and gladness; youth's hopes and disappointments; a sister's affection or a brother's friendship; a father's and a mother's love and death. It is the sacred memories of our early environment that gives the name home such a charm. And it is only when love is associated with the fireside that there is so much meaning in the name home. As there is nothing in the mere construction and sounding of a name, so also, oftentimes, strains of music would be en-tirely powerless to stir up thrilling and tender sensations if it were not for some train of recollections they set in motion. Does not that sacred song, "Lead Kindly Light," appeal more than ever before to the hearts of the nation, since it is associa-ted with our martyred President, McKinley ? Perhaps if the same tune fell upon a foreigner's car it would not receive.a mo-ment's attention. Have we not all a little collection of old songs, of old familiar hymns that we cannot sing or hear with-out feeling the deepest emotion? We may have heard their strains so very many times, yet they never grow commonplace because of the associations all and only their own. Oh! that vast power of individual association, in hearing, in seeing, in everything. What a rough and unlovely sight is the skeleton-like tree in winter! But when its life has had a Spring, Summer and Autumn, we shall have seen the beauty of its leaves, blossoms, and its fruit. The unsightly tree is a name; the leaves, the blossoms, the fruit—its associations. 268 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. TALES OF A BACHELORS' CLUB—NO. 2. JAMES GARFIELD DILLER, '04. Beresford reclined in the velvet embrace of a big lounging-chair, the picture of indolent ease. Before him, in the broad, colonial fireplace, a pile of gas-logs blazed and, despite their un-naturalness, lent a pleasant, home-like air to the smoking-room of the Bachelors' Club. The ruddy light was reflected in the polished brass andirons and in the row of shining pewter steins, hanging just beneath the mantel above. From a far corner of the apart-ment came the subdued murmur of voices, where an interested group of half a dozen.members of the club were gathered about a small table. Low exclamations of surprise, or an occasional sally of triumphant laughter were almost invariably followed by the rattle of small celluloid disks and the pitter-patter of cards in the hands of some practised manipulator. The sounds of jovial sociability, across the room, were evi-dently out of harmony with Beresford's reflections, for he paid little attention to them. He seemed to be engrossed in a con-templation of the "Old Masters" which hung about the richly frescoed walls, as if the stern faces and deep, gloomy shadows of the paintings were more in keeping with his state of mind; or anon he studied his own image in the polished brass spheres which capped the andirons, and smiled, in grim amusement, at the huge head and diminutive body in which he recognized a grotesque caricature of himself in miniature. The fine, intellectual face bore evidences of long-continued anxiety, from which there had been only an occasional relaxa-tion, such as now, when the jaded faculties sought respite in a few hours of languid ease and found solace in the filmy mist of smoke drawn from a good cigar. A servant entered the room with an armful of periodicals and evening papers, and began arranging them upon a large table in the centre of the apartment. After some moments he gathered up the old issues which he had just replaced with the later ones, and carried them away. Beresford arose, went to the table, se- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 269 lected his favorite newspaper and again settled himself in his chair, As he read, about half-way down the first column of an interesting article, his attention was attracted by something on the blank margin of the printed sheet. It was nothing more than the imprint of an inky thumb, probably that of some em-ployee at the newspaper office, and yet Beresford was more deeply interested in it than in the sensational article he had just been reading. In fact he seemed to gloat over it, as one who rejoices in the prospect of the early realization of hopes long deferred. Yet it was not the impression of an ordinary thumb, which he now studied so eagerly. The black smudge on the paper was broken by a V-shaped white mark, where the papil-lse of the skin had been destroyed by a scar. It was this iden-tifying characteristic that gave special value to the clue, and caused Beresford's eyes to glitter with the cruel pleasure of the cat's when she has the trembling mouse completely at her mercy. Five minutes later he was hurrying down the street to his hotel, his active brain evolving a plan of action for the morrow. The press-room of the great city "daily" presented a scene of bustling activity. The employees ot this department flitted about in the performance of their various duties like bees in a hive, the ceaseless humming of revolving beltings playing a con-stant accompaniment to the whirr of smaller wheels and the monotonous swish of paper, as the finished product was ejected from the jaws of the monster- machines and carried away to the distributing-rooms. At the end of one of these gigantic presses a young man, whose face bore the appearance of pre mature age, was busily engaged in arranging the finished edi-tions into symmetrical piles, which were then taken away by a squad of half grown boys. He seemed weary of his task, though it was yet early in the afternoon, and now and then, as he worked, cast his eyes about the place with a furtive glance as if he regarded his fellow workmen with a sort of undefined suspicion, or perhaps he thought himself above their level. There may have been reason for this, too, for the general air of r 270 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. the man indicated that he was not accustomed to such drudgery, and the ink-soiled fingers handled the papers with a clumsiness which seemed greater in comparison to the swift dexterity of the attendant at the next machine. The foreman of the press-room happened along just as the afternoon's work was about to close. He was accompanied by a gentleman in conventional afternoon attire and wearing tinted spectacles, who was evidently an old acquaintance being shown through the plant. As the visitor approached the press at which the young man was working, he paused a moment and engaged in conversation with his guide, the foreman. The man at the press looked at the pair with apprehension, and trembled under the scrutiny of the eyes behind the blue glasses. As the foreman and his friend moved away, he looked after them with a suspicious gaze, and when he again resumed his work he was visibly agitated. When the last bundle of papers had been carried away, and the machinery began to slow down, and finally stop altogether, the tired and worried press-man put on his hat and coat, stepped into the elevator, and a few min-utes later boarded a street car, sitting back in the corner with bowed head and folded arms, plunged in the most gloomy re-flections. After ten minutes' ride he swung himself oft the car. Walking down the street a short distance, he entered a plain-looking building which displayed a placard bearing the sign "Boarding and Lodging." He hurried upstairs to his humble room and by a careful toilet removed every trace of his daily occupation so that, after putting on a suit of evening clothes, he was quite a transformed man. Although yet early in the evening, it was beginning to grow dark, and as he hurried along he did not notice that a man who was approaching him suddenly stepped aside into the conceal-ment of a doorway, waited until he had passed by and then stepped out again and stood for some moments looking after him. Finally he walked hurriedly along as if seeking a house, the number of which he already knew. At last he paused be-fore the door of the boarding house which our friend had just THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 271 left, ascended the steps and pulled the bell. The house-maid answered the summons and in reply to his inquiry informed him that Mr. Hawkins had just gone out. Then he explained that he had loaned Mr. Hawkins a book, which that gentleman had been slow in returning, and he had come to get it because he wished very much to use it. The maid hesitated about al-lowing a stranger to go up to Mr. Hawkins' room, but as the man was evidently in earnest, she reluctantly admitted him and showed him up to the apartment, watching, however, that he should take nothing but the book. How was she to know that the very book which he was now eagerly seeking was the most valuable of Mr. Hawkins' personal effects? She thought per-haps it was only a pretext to cover up some greater theft, but when the man at last picked up, with a triumphant chuckle, a small morocco-bound volume stamped "memoranda" in gold letters, her last suspicions faded away. "You will please say nothing to Mr. Hawkins about this, my good Miss," said he. "You see, he would feel ashamed of himself if he knew that I was obliged to come after my book, on account of his negli-gence." And having thus enjoined her to silence, he slipped a coin into her hand to make assurance doubly sure, hurried down the stairs and out the front door. Half an hour later this same man was seated at a small table in his room at a luxurious hotel. Before him were spread the leaves of the memorandum book, from which he read the fol-lowing newspaper clippings : "London, October the nineteenth. There is a rumor in financial circles, that the long-established and reliable banking firm of Ashley, Clement & Co., has be-come insolvent by reason of the embezzlement of a consider-able sum by a trusted employee of the firm, Joseph Bentley. Several of our most prominent financial men are anxiously awaiting a confirmation or denial of this disquieting report." "London, October the twenty-first. Mr. Joseph Bentley, the young man suspected of embezzlement from the banking house of Ashley, Clement & Co., has disappeared from the city. His flight is taken by all who knew him as a confession of his guilt. Mr. Bentley has been only recently married and his wife, who was Miss Clara Beresford, daughter of the prominent scientist, ^■■■■■■■■■■■■■■^^^■B 272 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. is prostrated over the disgrace brought upon herself and kin-dred. Since the announcement of Bentley's breach of trust, a telegram has been received from Paris, stating that a man an-swering to his description had been a frequent guest at the Hotel de Ville, on his way south." "London, October the twenty-eighth. The absconding cash-ier of Ashley, Clement & Co., is still at large and has thus far succeeded in eluding every effort of the Scotland Yard detec-tives. He is reported to have gone to America and Mr. Char-les Beresford, his brother-in-law, is said to be taking up the search for the fugitive, out of revenge for his sister's disgrace." These and other clippings relating to matters of a less im-portant character made up the contents of the little book. And now, having read the various items and replaced the leaves in the book, the gentleman arose and began divesting himself of his outer clothing. Off came the heavy black coat, and the man seemed suddenly to have become somewhat lighter in build. Unbuttoning the vest, he took out a quantity of pad-ding, which he had used to give the appearance of portliness. Then he produced a bottle of clear liquid, poured some of it into the palm of his hand, rubbed the sides of his face and the handsome whiskers came off like magic. A dark gray wig was next removed, and after that the minor accessories of dress with which he had kept up the deception. Ten minutes later, a young man in evening dress left the room which had been entered an hour before by an elderly gentleman in afternoon attire. As he descended the stairway he took something from his pocket and fastened it with a pin-clasp to the under side of his coat lapel. The same evening, a certain Dr. Atkinson, a member of the club, had entertained at dinner a young Englishman, a Mr. Hawkins. When he had given the invitation, the doctor asked his friend for his address, saying that he would send his car-riage. But the Englishman seemed reluctant to reveal the lo-cation of his stopping place, and his prospective host did not press the matter. Later in the evening, the doctor took Haw-kins with him to the club and the Englishman was soon the THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 273 centre of an interested group of listeners, who had dropped their conversation in various parts of the smoking-room, and moved closer to the fireplace, where the guest of the club was entertaining them with anecdotes from his experiences in the British army in India. For almost an hour he held their atten-tion, and was just in the middle of the narration of an amusing episode, when a cab pulled up to the curb outside and a mo-ment later Beresford entered the room. On catching sight of him the Englishman broke off in his story, made a movement as if to rise from his chair and then sat down again, regarding the newcomer with the lodk of desperation that reminds one of a hunted beast brought suddenly to bay. Beresford ap-proached the group about the fireplace unmoved, and Dr. At-kinson arose and introduced the guest of the evening. Haw-kins held out his hand with the hesitation of one putting it in-to a fire, but Beresford clasped and shook it heartily. Then, his face suddenly becoming stern, he gripped the Englishman's hand tighter and turned back the thumb, revealing a scar upon its inner surface shaped like the letter V. All his doubts with regard to the identity of his man thrown aside, and in the full assurance of complete recognition, he looked the other squarely in the face and said in a ringing voice : "Mr. Joseph Bentley, alias Hawkins, I believe we have met before, and it now gives me great pleasure to renew our acquaintance." At the same moment, two officers who had been waiting in the hallway, stepped into the room and took the Englishman into custody. Then Beresford, in the excitement caused by the electric shock of surprise, turned to the startled group which had witnessed this scene ami, in answer to their look of inquiry, made a quick movement as if to turn back his coat lapel, and the soft glow of the firelight was reflected in the gleam of a silver badge. 274 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. l THE DREAMERS. Miss BESS M. DRAIS, '04. THERE comes moment after moment in daily life, when we lift ourselves above the common earth-bound views, and dwell in the land of dreams. To the traveller, these ex-cursions into that far country are of great significance and value. His mind is free from the cares of the world and is transported into a new atmosphere, where it finds rest and joy. It is true that the dreamers picture for themselves an "Utopia," they muse and ponder over the unattainable and un-fortunately for many, their visions burst like bubbles, and soon pass away. But man becomes wearied by the stress of daily life, and his greatest pleasure and happiness are found in living in an ideal world. 'The cloud-built palace all with sun agleatu, So soon to change and fuse into the sky Avails its lord far more than bodied high In stone and mortar, could the mason's scheme. It is when dreaming that man recalls the most pleasant memories of the past and paints his richest pictures of the future. When he becomes despondent and even life seems monotonous, he seeks refuge in one of his loftiest castles and immediately the sky turns blue, the flowers again bloom and send forth their sweetest fragrance. There is a class of people who only let their fancies play and into whose minds the pictures come and go like butter-flies darting from flower to flower. Those who dream selfishly have no result but discontent and a useless life, but the true dreamer should be better contented and happier because of his dream life; as little Sara Crewe in Mrs. Burnett's sweet story, dreams her attic into a happy home, her rags into velvet, her crust in-to a delicious meal, and her hard bed into eiderdown, and is the happiest of children in the most wretched surroundings. The true dreamer's castles have a master and their creative im-aginations are guided by thought and reason. It is preemi- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 275 nently true of castles in the air, that you must own your housef or your house will own you. Such dreamers are filled with ambition and it is ambitious men and women that the world has always needed. The stream, in struggling onward, turns the wheel of the old mill; the coral insect, fashioning its tiny cell day after day, joins con-tinents to one another and the ambitious man, building a ped-estal for himself, leaves a monument to posterity. By dreaming, we find the quarries in our lives, out of which are hewn the blocks that later lay the foundation of character, where thoughts are shaped, which take form in noble works. We behold visions of ideal perfection hanging like stars in a midnight sky and in striving to attain that perfection, character is changed into transfigured beauty. What is comparable to this? Dr. Hillis says, "All the beauty of paintings, all the grace of statues, all the grandeur of cathedrals are as nothing compared to the painting of that inner picture, the chiselling of that inner manhood, the adornment of that inner temple." We dream especially when we are young, but not only then, for man paints pictures of fancy until he reaches the autumn, and even the winter of his life. We are all dreamers, and as we grow older, our dreams become wider and grander. We see the ideals before us which we are striving to attain and they always keep so far ahead of us, but it is only by trying to re-alize them that we ourselves grow. We each have in us a pure ideal after which we are striving and we should be willing to die rather than give it up, for our course in life is shaped by our ideals. As Van Dyke says, "It is from the hearts of dreamers that shall spring a renaissance of faith and hope." People of practical mind are too likely to think of dreamers as being light and fanciful. They think the dreamers are idle and peculiar when they go off to some secluded spot to indulge in their dreams and they even sneer at them, but it is just the things which people once scoffed at which are now of the greatest practical benefit to the world. All discoveries and in-ventions are works of creative imaginations, guided by the power of thought. In the fifteenth century, an age of romance, a young seaman, by carrying out his dreams, experienced to r> 276 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. the utmost the solitude of greatness and his discovery led to all that has since been achieved on our continent. To Columbus belongs the undivided honor of making real the grand ideal of the Western World. To Roentgen, who has made invisibility-visible, the world owes a debt which can never be paid. Mar-coni, the young Italian, has performed the modern miracle of miracles. He has dreamed sound out of space. All distin-guished discoverers and inventors have been remarkable for the glow of their imaginations and without that imagination all philosophic discovery and invention would be impossible. The success of the mathematician and even the musician depends upon the work of the creative imagination. The artist dreams of some ideal and then tries to attain it in his productions. In fact all ambitious people, all people who ac-complish anything, do and must dream. This is especially true of the poets. Their poetry is very often founded on facts, but it is when they are carried away by their dreams that they reach the highest pinnacle of success, for "imagination can go far beyond the attainments of nature." From Tyrtaeus down, the poets have first been laughed at, and then followed to the death, for it is their dreams which stir men to deeds. Highest of all are the spiritual dreamers, who have dreamed reforms and ideals into reality. "Your old men shall see vis-ions, and your young men shall dream dreams," is the spiritual promise of the new era, and in unmistakable terms, the Word declares, "Where there is no vision the people perish." " 'Come down,' we cried to him. 'Leave off thy lonely Watch on the mountain height; Belike the foeman comes, and wilt thou only Be missing from the fight ?' No word he answered, yet we knew when ended The long day's doubtful war We had not won had he left undefended His lone outpost afar. 'Come down,' we cried again, 'the streams are failing, What doest thou mid the stones on The bare hill-side? Hear the children wailing ! With thirst the whole earth groans.' THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 'Drink, then !' he laughed to us, and rested glowing Beside his well-used tools, And down the rocks, imprisoned fountains flowing Sang into sudden pools. He was not one of us. His rapt eyes, shining Like moon-light veiled in showers, Had the seer's vision, outward far divining Horizons beyond ours. We heard the waves break, the small waters welling In darkness 'neath the sod, And what to us was but the night wind swelling He called the voice of God. But now a silence falls, and we awaken— Dim is our dawn and late ! The prophet-voice we thought a reed wind-shaken Hath passed within the gate. And our dull hearts now read aright the story Our dreamer always knew— Life's best is dreaming best, and Heaven's own glory, Man's dreams and God's come true." 277 278 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. A STRONG CHARACTER. C. E. BUTLER, '05. IT not infrequently happens that people of our present day are able to recognize conditions which tend to an improv-ed appreciation of collegiate advantages. Our school system has been so extended as to stimulate the desire of pupils to enjoy larger opportunities. That the meagre educational ad-vantages as connected with self-made men are the only means by which great men can be produced, is an old superstition which is fast disappearing. Parents are seeing the folly of such superstitions and are universally accepting our institutions as a means to the lofty manhood of ourpresent time. They recognize that the one great aim of all education is to secure the highest style of men. The conceptions of ideal manhood fix the standards of education and the more nearly the ideal is ap-proached the more exact and philosophical will be the educa-tional methods. The greatest blessing that can happen to any nation, age or people is its g>eatmen. Men that are men—not alone in deeds of daring, feats of strength and an over abundance of talent—but men with characterpar excellence, purposes noble and acts that are the inspirations of a pure mind and loving heart. To increase for itself the number of such men is the greatest ambition of every nation and the highest aim of every educational system. Although the number of illiterate in the United States to day is enormous, they are, nevertheless, decreasing with every stroke of the clock. While on the other hand, the number of common and high school graduates and the number entering colleges are increasing with each succeeding year, and in view of these facts we will consider the college student, how he en-ters, and how he closes his college course. Spurred on by the flattering results of the preparatory school and filled with the idea of obtaining the best possible prepara-tion for his life work, the student enters college with the de-termination to come out a master of the subjects, a well devel-oped intellect and a character formed to withstand every surg- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 279 ing billow of life's rough sea. I say this is the determination of the student when he enters those stately walls and confronts the learned and dignified professors. There will be no side-helps for him, the application of his own mind, the power of his own intellect, together with his own determination are suf-ficient to withstand every force, science and conglomeration of which the curriculum is composed. Thus the student enters the college and for a short time his good purposes predominate, but for a short time only, and soon, how soon, he finds himself in the ranks of the average student. Shall he then save the nation when the drum-tap is futile and the barracks are ex-hausted? Do facts and things rather than words and signs make up the warp and woof of his existence? Absorbed entirely in his task and absolutely indifferent to all things else, he may finish his course and come forth from the institution an honor man, but in the effective work of human society he is a hopeless failure. Multitudes of such men are scattered throughout our country who have been admirable at almost every stage of their prescribed course. You will find them at the bar and you will find them in the pulpit; professors' chairs are not without them and they are not wanting in the halls of leg-islation— admirably carved semblances of cultivated manhood, having all the shape and comeliness but not a whit of the living power of well-trained intellects. A stick may be whittled into the form of a man, but changed as it will be in form, it will still be a stick of a man. Alas, that so many of our half ani-mate beings should occupy positions of power in our nation. But for him who has come and seen and conquered, who has withstood the thousand temptations of a college life, who has been subjected to the fire and found pure, whose judgments are unbiased and whose character is a broad and firm founda-tion for the future of the world, what shall we say of him ? A manly man, liberally educated and full of virtue; the pride of the people and the love of the nation. Let his competitors assail him, his character is invulnerable. There is nothing can stand in the way of virtue on fire. You can misstate a fact, a principle you can put under a false guise, but a man you can- 28o THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. not repress if he has grit, grace and a spark of enthusiasm. Character is indestructible; no lightning-bolt can shatter it, no flood drown it and no fire consume it. Rivers may change their courses and centuries pass, but character is stable, endur-ing forever. What our country needs then is men—manly men—and a, larger supply of them. We need them in our business circles, on our farms and at the heads of government. We need them for the good they can do, by raising the stand-ard of intelligence, by the evidence they furnish that education is a capital that pays an ever increasing dividend and we most especially need them scattered among our people for the high-er development and christianizing of the nation. I would show you two men emerging from the college walls and entering upon the sea of life, how like they are to two ships leaving their harbor of quiet to battle with the rough elements of the world. Their anchor chains are lifted and one by one the sails drop from yonder clipper's delicate spars and caught up by the pass-ing breeze are filled into a cloud of billowy whiteness. Thus stretched out like angel wings she begins her course on the clear blue sea. And now the second moves out of port into the great sea. With what impressions we look upon the great dark hulk of this ocean steamer. We see the smoke rolling in thick black columns from her smoke stacks, we see her sides all scratched and scared and her sails dark and sooty. Yet with slow increasing throbs, she, too, passes on and disappears in the distance. But beyond the horizon the sky darkens, the lightnings leap from the overcharged clouds. Like a stricken bird with torn and ruffled plumage, the clipper struggles against the. forces which a short time since drove her forth in such magnificence but which now seem to campass her destruction. With naked spars and storm-swept decks, she is driven and tossed a play-thing of the raging seas, while through the blackness glow the red lights from the steamer's fires. Though tons and tons of waves are hurled against her massive frame, yet undaunted and with the steady increasing pulsations of the giant power THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 28l within, she plunges on through crest and trough until the tur-bulent ocean with its tossing waves is left behind and through the breaking light beyond, with its gentle winds and under a cloudless sky, she gains a safe haven. So two men pass out from the influences of their alma mater. The one is adorned with natural graces and the world's gold. The other is perchance ungainly in appearance and destitute of favorable circumstances, the external beauty and symmetry of the former far eclipsing the uninspiring and unpropitious de-parture of the latter. Out into the world they go, soon to be surrounded with the cruel snares and evil machinations of a treacherous humanity. The weakling is unprepared to endure the assaultsand blows of his adversary and soon succumbs to an inevitable fate. Deeper and deeper he sinks, until finally the little energy that drove him forth is spent and he drops into utter oblivion and is lost to the world forever. While through the intrigues of an intricate politics, through the formidable barriers of an unjust world and through every conceivable diffi-culty to which seventy-five million souls can subject him, the man of character stands firm. He is one who will stand by another in defence of everything right; who will hold on the highest things and not let go of the people below him; who—without any cant or hypocrisy, but because he believes in God and the things that are good—will show by the actions of his life that God is character. He is the ideal of manhood, a strong character, who will ever be a leader in all measures. Never before in the history of the world was there a grander time in which to live than now and never were strong characters more needed than here and now. Hold fast then Character! Stand firm Determination and let all the world know the integrity of the Americans of this gen-eration. 282 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. COLLEGE DORMITORY LIFE. i PAUL FROELICH, '04. ASTRANGER at a college is usually interested in the student dormitories. There is an air of obscurity and hidden interest which attracts one and makes him curious to know the life within those buildings as well as eliciting his ad-miration for the beauty of the architectural structure. At night his feelings are even intensified, when he looks upon the rows and blocks of lighted windows, varied and separated by the occasional spaces of darkness. There is a certain mysterious line which seems to make the dormitory life of the student pe-culiar and separate from the outer world. And it truly is so. Not only is the dormitory life of the college student of to-day in a class by itself, but there is only to be found that unique and attractive college spirit. There is a vast difference between the life of the " day student" who lives in the town and that of the man who rooms in the dormitory on the campus. The former misses a great deal of the influence of that youthful enthusiasm and spirit which finds expression in so many differ-ent ways and objects and which is nourished by the unity that the dormitory gives. It is a life different from any other in the world. It is very interesting. Thrown into very close contact by the proximity and arrange-ment of the rooms in the building, a close fellowship and firm friendship among the students results. Two men, who spend the best four years of their lives in the same room as " chums," form a life-long friendship. The same is true of those who are near neighbors. A dormitory becomes a sort of home and the students in it, one large family. Of course it is not said that dormitory life removes individuality and personality; rather otherwise. This close association between college men from all parts of the country, with different training, ideas and habits, is powerful in developing personality. In contrast with this last idea is the organized life in an insti-tution of learning. College students are wonderful organizers, and the many societies, clubs and athletic organizations work THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 283 through the means of the dormitories. There is the place to reach the men. Consequently the bulletin-boards, at convenient locations in the buildings, are an important and almost indis-pensible feature of dormitory life. They are the means of pub-lic notification and are of general interest. Their well-covered surfaces bear information ranging from the call for a mass-meeting or the announcement of the next baseball game, down to the reward for the return of a lost fraternity pin and the news of a bargain in second-hand text books. Not satisfied with the bulletin-boards, some of the student organizations reach their members by a personal notice slipped under the doors of the many rooms. ^^>«-> IK AMD JOB Good Work Low Prices Publisher ot THE GETTYSBURG NEWS 142 Carlisle St., Gettysburg, Pa »«*mWHGtm N. G. BARBEHENN Latest Styles in HATS, SHOES AND GENT'S FURNISHING .Our specialty. WALK-OVER SHOE M. I ECKERT Prices always right The Lutheran publi^ing pouge. No. 1424 Arch Street PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for anything and everything in the way of Books for Churches, Col-leges, Families and Schools, and literature for Sunday Schools. PLEASE REMEMBER That by sending your orders to us you help build up and devel-op one of the church institutions with pecuniary advantage to yourself. Address H. S. BONER, Supt. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. FURNITURE Mattresses, Bed Springs, Iron Beds, Picture Frames, Repair Work done promptly. Under-taking a specialty. * Telephone No. 97. EE. IB. 33end_er 73 Baltimore St., Gettysburg, Pa. THE STEWART & STEEN CO. Qollege IJjTxgTCbTjers obnci (pTinteTs 1024 Arcli St., Philadelphia, Pa. MAKERS AND PUBLISHERS OF Commencement, Class Day Invitations and Programs, Class Pins and Buttons in Gold and Other Metals, Wedding Invitations and Announcements, At Home Cards, Reception Cards and Visiting Cards, Visiting Cards—Plate and so cards, 75 cents. Special Discount to Students. A. G. Spalding 6 Bros. Largest Manufacturers In the World of Official Athletic Supplies. £ f f f £ ■* £ Plans and Blue Prints of Gymnasium Parapherna-lia furnished on request. BASE BALL, LAWN TENNIS, FOOT BALL, GOLF, FIELD HOCKEY, BASKET BALL, OFFICIAL ATHLETIC INPLEMENTS. /yf TRADE J^S\ win \VMARK yj Spalding's Catalogue of all Athletic Sports Mailed ^^ ^W ^r» ^p ^F ^W ^f» free to any address. A. G. SPALDING tS BROS. New York, Chicago, Denver, Kansas City, Baltimore, Philadelphia, Minneapolis, Boston, Buffalo, St. Louis, San Francisco, Montreal, Canada ; London. England. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. EGKENRODE & BEGKEE OHAMBERSBURG ST., Dealers in Beef, Veal, Lamb, Pork, Sausage, Padding, Bologna, Hams, Sides, Shoulders, Lard, Prime Corned Beef. The Medico-Chirurgical College of Philadelphia. DEPARTMENT OF MEDICINE Offers exceptional facilities to graduates of Gettysburg College, especially to those who have taken a medical preparatory or biological course. The instruction is thoroughly practical, particular attention being given to laboratory work and bed-side and ward-class teaching. Ward-classes are limited in size. A modified seminar method is a special feature of the Course. Free quizzing in all branches by the Professors and a special staff of Tutors. The College has also a Department of Dentistry and a Department ol Pharmacy. All Gettysburg College students are cordially invited to inspect the College and Clinical Amphitheatre at any time. For announcements or information apply to SENECA EGBERT, Dean of the Department of Medicine, 17th & Cherry Streets, PHILADELPHIA, PA. Wright, %j \ Co. 140-144 Woodward Avenue, DETROIT, MICH. Send for Catalogue and Price List. Manufacturers of high grade Fraternity Emblems Fraternity Jewelry Fraternity Novelties Fraternity Stationery Fraternity Invitations Fraternity Announcements Fraternity Programs Special Designs on Applicati«i> PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. Geo. E. Spaijgler, PIANOS, ORGANS, MUSICAL MERCHANDISE Music Rooms, - York St. Telephone 181 GETT^SBUKG C. B. KITZMILLOV. DEALER IN HATS, CAPS, BOOTS AND DOUGLAS SHOES. McKnight Building, Baltimore St. Gettysburg, Pa. Ix. M. ALcLEMAN, Manufacturer's Agent and Jobber of Hardware, Oils, Paints and Qneensware Gettysburg, Pa, THE ONLY JOBBING HOUSE IN ADAMS COUNTY W. F. Codori, ^DEALER IN^ --'; .SPECIAL RATES TO CLUBS. York Street, Gettysburg:, Pa. --.--— 1 SH 3 .,—,.—,.-,<^,^.—,*,^^, . _ . ._ .

Background: In all societies, the burden and cost of allergic and chronic respiratory diseases are increasing rapidly. Most economies are struggling to deliver modern health care effectively. There is a need to support the transformation of the health care system into integrated care with organizational health literacy. Main body: As an example for chronic disease care, MASK (Mobile Airways Sentinel NetworK), a new project of the ARIA (Allergic Rhinitis and its Impact on Asthma) initiative, and POLLAR (Impact of Air POLLution on Asthma and Rhinitis, EIT Health), in collaboration with professional and patient organizations in the field of allergy and airway diseases, are proposing real-life ICPs centred around the patient with rhinitis, and using mHealth to monitor environmental exposure. Three aspects of care pathways are being developed: (i) Patient participation, health literacy and self-care through technology-assisted "patient activation", (ii) Implementation of care pathways by pharmacists and (iii) Next-generation guidelines assessing the recommendations of GRADE guidelines in rhinitis and asthma using real-world evidence (RWE) obtained through mobile technology. The EU and global political agendas are of great importance in supporting the digital transformation of health and care, and MASK has been recognized by DG Sante as a Good Practice in the field of digitally-enabled, integrated, person-centred care. Conclusion: In 20 years, ARIA has considerably evolved from the first multimorbidity guideline in respiratory diseases to the digital transformation of health and care with a strong political involvement.

Background: In all societies, the burden and cost of allergic and chronic respiratory diseases are increasing rapidly. Most economies are struggling to deliver modern health care effectively. There is a need to support the transformation of the health care system into integrated care with organizational health literacy. Main body: As an example for chronic disease care, MASK (Mobile Airways Sentinel NetworK), a new project of the ARIA (Allergic Rhinitis and its Impact on Asthma) initiative, and POLLAR (Impact of Air POLLution on Asthma and Rhinitis, EIT Health), in collaboration with professional and patient organizations in the field of allergy and airway diseases, are proposing real-life ICPs centred around the patient with rhinitis, and using mHealth to monitor environmental exposure. Three aspects of care pathways are being developed: (i) Patient participation, health literacy and self-care through technology-assisted "patient activation", (ii) Implementation of care pathways by pharmacists and (iii) Next-generation guidelines assessing the recommendations of GRADE guidelines in rhinitis and asthma using real-world evidence (RWE) obtained through mobile technology. The EU and global political agendas are of great importance in supporting the digital transformation of health and care, and MASK has been recognized by DG Sante as a Good Practice in the field of digitally-enabled, integrated, person-centred care. Conclusion: In 20 years, ARIA has considerably evolved from the first multimorbidity guideline in respiratory diseases to the digital transformation of health and care with a strong political involvement. ; Peer reviewed

Background In all societies, the burden and cost of allergic and chronic respiratory diseases are increasing rapidly. Most economies are struggling to deliver modern health care effectively. There is a need to support the transformation of the health care system into integrated care with organizational health literacy. Main body As an example for chronic disease care, MASK (Mobile Airways Sentinel NetworK), a new project of the ARIA (Allergic Rhinitis and its Impact on Asthma) initiative, and POLLAR (Impact of Air POLLution on Asthma and Rhinitis, EIT Health), in collaboration with professional and patient organizations in the field of allergy and airway diseases, are proposing real-life ICPs centred around the patient with rhinitis, and using mHealth to monitor environmental exposure. Three aspects of care pathways are being developed: (i) Patient participation, health literacy and self-care through technology-assisted "patient activation", (ii) Implementation of care pathways by pharmacists and (iii) Next-generation guidelines assessing the recommendations of GRADE guidelines in rhinitis and asthma using real-world evidence (RWE) obtained through mobile technology. The EU and global political agendas are of great importance in supporting the digital transformation of health and care, and MASK has been recognized by DG Santé as a Good Practice in the field of digitally-enabled, integrated, person-centred care. Conclusion In 20 years, ARIA has considerably evolved from the first multimorbidity guideline in respiratory diseases to the digital transformation of health and care with a strong political involvement.

Abstract Background In all societies, the burden and cost of allergic and chronic respiratory diseases are increasing rapidly. Most economies are struggling to deliver modern health care effectively. There is a need to support the transformation of the health care system into integrated care with organizational health literacy. Main body As an example for chronic disease care, MASK (Mobile Airways Sentinel NetworK), a new project of the ARIA (Allergic Rhinitis and its Impact on Asthma) initiative, and POLLAR (Impact of Air POLLution on Asthma and Rhinitis, EIT Health), in collaboration with professional and patient organizations in the field of allergy and airway diseases, are proposing real-life ICPs centred around the patient with rhinitis, and using mHealth to monitor environmental exposure. Three aspects of care pathways are being developed: (i) Patient participation, health literacy and self-care through technology-assisted "patient activation", (ii) Implementation of care pathways by pharmacists and (iii) Next-generation guidelines assessing the recommendations of GRADE guidelines in rhinitis and asthma using real-world evidence (RWE) obtained through mobile technology. The EU and global political agendas are of great importance in supporting the digital transformation of health and care, and MASK has been recognized by DG Santé as a Good Practice in the field of digitally-enabled, integrated, person-centred care. Conclusion In 20 years, ARIA has considerably evolved from the first multimorbidity guideline in respiratory diseases to the digital transformation of health and care with a strong political involvement.

Issue 15.1 of the Review for Religious, 1956. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious JANUARY 15, 19 5 6 Sisters' Re÷rea÷s~i .".'- . Thomas Dubay Novice Master and Secrecy .John R. Post Forbidden Readlncj . John J. Lynch Book Reviews Questions and Answers VOLUME XV , NUMBER 1 R ViI::W FOR Ri LIGIOUS VOLUME XV JANUARY, 1956 NUMBER 1 CONTENTS SISTERS' RETREATS--I--Thomas Dubay, S.M . 3 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . l0 SOME RECENT PAMPHLETS . 10 NOVICE MASTER'S OBLIGATIONS TO SECRECY-~John R. Post, S.'J. 1 l QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 1. Difficulty in Submitting to Superior's Will . 2. Permission to Offer One's Life to God . 22 3. Occasional Confessor of Religious Women .22 4. Permission for Private Penances . 23 5. Indulgences for Little Office of B.V.M . 24 6. Name of a Religious Institute . 24 7. Lowering Veil for Holy Communion . 25 8. Ordo to Follow in Convent Masses . 25 FORBIDDEN READING--'John 3. Lynch, S.J . 27 FOR YOUR INFORMATION . 46 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 48 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 'january, 1956. Vol. XV, No. I. Published bi-monthly: ,January, March, May, 'july, September, and November, at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter, ,January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.'J., Gerald Kelly, S.3., Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.J. Copyright, 1956, by Review for Religious. Permission is hereby granted for quo-tations of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year: 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please co~nsult notice on inside back cover. Review for Religious Volume XV January--December, 1956 Published at THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas Edited by THE JESUIT FATHERS ST. MARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexed in ÷he CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX Sisters' Retreats l Thomas Dubay, S.M. INTRODUCTION THIS article and the others that will follow it1 deal with the results of an experimental study of retreats for religious wo-men. A summary of the purpose of the study can perhaps be given in no better way. than by reproducing the note addressed to each sister participating in th3 survey. Dear Sister : The purpose of this study is to help you to make more profitable retreats. If you will be so kind as to join hundreds of other sisters in answering this question-naire, you will be make a noteworthy contribution to this end, for it is hoped that through publication the results of this study may be made available to retreat masters. Because mere statistics are not .of themsel;ces too reliable, space is provided after the questions for your further comment. And the more comment you offer, the more you will help this study. If the space provided is not sufficient, you are urged to add pages of your own. Sittce it is your individual opinion that is so valuable, Sister~ I would suggest that you consult with no one. Further, you may be assured that your opinions will remain secret. Your Mother Superior has agreed to return all questionnaires without anybody's reading of them. And certainly I will not know you. None of your answers will be interpreted as, negatively critical and so you should feel perfectly free to state your full and frank views . May God bless your kindness! Of approximately 1300 questionnaire forms distributed to a large number of different communitiesz located in all parts of the United States, 701 were returned with answers. These 701 returns seem to represent a reasonably good cross section of the American sisterhood in age distribution, type of order, and kind of work. In respect to the 'number of years of professed religious life the respondents are distributed in the manner indicated in Table I. TABLEI: PROFESSION AGE OF PARTICIPATINGSISTERS 1-5 years . 108 6-10 years . 97 11-20 years . 173 21-30 years . 156 31-40 years. . 97 over 40 years . 66 ~Editors' Note: There will be five more articles. 2A rough estimate would place the number of distinct congregations between 30 and 50. 3 THOMAS DUBAY Review /:or Religious 2~ wide variety of occupations is likewise represented. Table II shows the kinds of work done by the sisters. TABLE II: OCCUPATIONS OF PARTICIPATING SISTERS Teaching in grade school . 230 Teaching in high school . 187 Hospital and nursing education: . . 86 Teaching in college . 79 - Domestic . 55 . Social work . 13 Home for aged . 10 Represented by numbers under ten are the following occupations: orphanages, office work, postulant or novice mistresses, public health nursing, cloistered life, and several miscellaneous offices. Nine sis-ters did not reveal their occupations. That many sisters are vitally interested in the retreat problem is evidenced both by the care with which 701 filled out a nuisance of a questionnaire and by the many appreciative messages that ac-companied their answers. These kind observations we will pass by here and commend to God for reward. Even a brief reading of the returned survey forms can leave no doubt that the sisters have been frank--sometimes bluntly frank-- both in their praise and in their blame. The excerpts that follow are statements characteristic of the sincerity, care, and goodwill with "which the replies are replete. I have tried to answer seriously and thoughtfully the various questions, and hope there is no inconsistency in my answers, or any misleading statements, dust thinking along these lines in order to answer the questions has been, in a sense, a meditation and an inspiration. Hope I haven't been too far out in left field on these answers-~but it was a good opportunity I couldn't afford to miss !--even though I just made it late to class! Father, you must be smiling or laughing at my preachy manner. But no . . . I don't presume to be saying (rather writing) authoritatively. ,Just presenting my observations, since better retreats and better retreat masters for sisters was for a number of years a special object of ~y poor prayers. In the whole course of this study, it has seemed wise to place considerable stress on the sisters' written comments for the reason that a mere statistical presentation viewed alone can be misleading. When explained by the living observation, statistics can be most enlightening and helpful. Manifestly only a fraction of all the sisters' comments can be January,. 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--l[ included in these articles, but the excerpts ~he writer has chosen are repregentative. There were so many striking statements, so many shrewd observations, so many sincere analyses Of retreat problem~, '~o. many grace-inspired kindly remarks, that, when pressed to choose "~mong them, he felt like a little boy give~n free reign in a well, Stocked candy shop. Only he had no free reign, for lack of space.:has mercilessly curtailed the number of sisters' comments reproduced in "these articles. Perhaps some future detailed stu.dy can exploit the untapped riches of their observations. Views of extreme minorities (i.e., .of one or two sisters only) are usually not represented in the written observations; for their comments, if placed next to an excerpt representing ten or fifteen sisters, would produce an imbalance in favor'of the former. These extreme views are not neglected, however, for they appear in the numerical summaries. It need not be stressed that the views of the sisters are not necessarily those of the present writer. One ~eason is that he is here interested in presenting the sisters' opinions, not his own. A second--and this one is metaphysical--is that what one sister af-firms another sometimes denies. In this connection, however, we should remember that the c6ntradiction is often merely apparent; for rarely are the sisters speaking about the same retreat master or exactly the same idea. SOURCE OF PRIESTS We sh,ll first consider the question, as to whether 'sisters prefer their retreaq masters to come from the same or different orders of men year after year. This item in the questionnaire wfiiworded as follows : As a source of re~reat masters would you prefer p~iests __always from the same order from different orders ~it makes little difference to me Further comment: (space provided) While we will give first of all in one summary a picture of the views of all of the sisters on this question, it would be a mistake to "rest content with that picture alone. There are on this point three types of situations among congregations of religious women, Some are attached to orders of men; others are not so attached' but do obtain their retreat masters from one order of men alone; and still others are not attached and do not restrict the source of retreat. m~isters to one order of men. A priori we might expect different THOMAS DUBAY Reoieu~ [or Religious reactions in the three groups to the question under discussion here. This expectation is borne out to some extent by the answers to the survey question. ]Due to the fact that no sister participating in this study was asked to identify either herself or her congregation, it was impossibl~ to distinguish in most cases into which of the three categories a given reply fell. However, a considerable number of sisters did distinguish their congregation in this general way and so some basis for a com-parison is possible. We will first give a cumulative picture of all the replies relative to this question. TABLE III: PREFERENCE FOR SOURCE OF PRIESTS--ALL SISTERS Always from the same order . 148 (21.8%) From different orders . 353 (52.0%) It makes little difference to me . 178 (26.2%) As already indicated, not much can be proved from this overall picture; and so we will proceed to our breakdown. TABLE IV: PREFERENCE FOR SOURCE OF PRIESTS SISTERS ATTACHED TO AN ORDER OF MEN Always f, rom the same order . 60 (62.5 %) From different orders . 18 (18.75%) It makes little difference to me . 18~ (18.75%) Here we notice a considerable deviation from the overall pic-ture. Most sisters attached to an order of men wish to receive their retreat masters from that order alone. In the~e congregations, bow-ever, there appear to be two rather strong minorities of another mind. TABLE V: PREFERENCE FOR SOURCE OF PRIESTS SISTERS UNATTACHED TO ANY ORDER OF MEBNUT RECEIVING RETREAT MASTERS FROM ONE ORDER ALONE Always from the same order . 10 (11.3 %) From different orders .65 (73.0%) : It makes little difference to me . 14 (15.7 % ) Here also a noteworthy deviation from the overall picture can be seen, and that in a direction opposite to the deviation found in. the immediately preceding table. Because the two groups of sisters included in Tables IV and V almost perfectly balance each other off, the position of unattached sisters receiving retreat masters from several orders of men is fairly well "refledted in Table III, once due allowances are made. As he went through the. returned replies, .January, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--I the present writer received the impression that this third group of sisters is for the most part Well pleased with its custom, i.e., re-ceiving priests from different orders. We may turn now to the reasons the. sisters give for their various preferences. The number of excerpts given in each group is approximately proportionate to the number of preferences regis-tered in that category. Those who prefer, the same order: I prefer priests from the same order as my own because I feel that they understand my obligations better and are thus able to help me more. Our community always have the same religious for retreat masters, and there seems to be a definite continuity of purpose represented in their retreats--which is fine. I think that it is ideal to have a priest of one's own order, as he knows and has the same spirit and can lead one in one's own spirituality. A religious usually comes to appreciate what is traditional in her congregation. We always have . We have priests where I come from, and believe you me, Padre, they're "tops" ! If there are two branches of the same order--one for men, one for women--then the sisters profit greatly by having retreat masters of the same order. The retreat master then understands best the way of life through which the sisters are to reach heaven. For any sisters it would be hard to have different ways of spiritu-ality presented and urged on them by priests of various orders. Sisters preferring priests from different orders: I think they should be selected for personal ability. Many'sisters I know get tired of having the same order, as we generally do. Each order has something special, something beautiful that they follow. Knowl-edge of the various orders will not only broaden our intellectual and spiritual outlook but also make for a deeper understanding and cooperation between the orders. I prefer priests from different orders as it would give variety to the types of medi-tations given. The for instance are fine but you always know what their meditations are going to be based upon. I like to be surprised once in a while. I would not consider the order if I had a choice but would find men who were' holy and knew how to inspire others to holiness. However, when one order is always chosen, some souls will grow weary because they like change. It is possible that continued use of the same order would exhaust their supply of the "best." I like the return of the good retreat master. I have made retreats given by the same one five times and am ready for another five more. Where I was in-clined to think the order produced the individuals, I've grown older and wiser and am sure that life, life-work, and production is all an individual job. There are two orders that I like best, but because in their members I have met real sanctity. We are in spirit and have made the effort to get priests, but this is not a hard and fast rule. We have had others and they have also been excellent. THOMA'S' DUBA'Y ¯ Review ~or ~V'e would become more broadminded if we had different orders. We hav~ the same order always, but many sisters have expressed the wish for men from different orders. Some orders of retreat masters adhere to one form of presentation more or less. ¯ . . I hate to say this but sometimes the meditation becomes boresome before he really starts. ~ iCrom different orders--However,'a priest of any order should not try to instill the particular virtues, customs or religious devotions of his order. He should not adopt an attitude that his order is superior to all others. This is boring. Sometimes a change of method is good. I like it when I do not know what the next conference is about. Wl£en the retreat masters come from different orders, they have a different approach and p~attern. This is good. I believe each order has its particular talents to offer, and being human, variations ofeven the most fundamental topics are appreciated.' I have made several retreats and having had' the same order of priests conducting them, I was able to tell almost exactly what incidents Father was about to discuss and in almost the same words he used. Sisters to whom the source of priests makes little difference: I have,made retreats under priests of several orders and I find the order doesn't make much difference--it is the personal sanctity, earnestness, and understanding that counts¯ It is not the order; rather it is the personal holiness of the priest which would be an inspiration to follow. As far as particular retreat masters are concerned, it really matters little who he is, where he is from, or what religious congreg, he represents. The important thing is that he himself is a truly spiritual man, well prepared td give the retreat, en-thusiastic for the cause--the cause of Christ and the interests of His consecrated Spouses. Can love them all! and respond to all. However, I think a religious priest would understand better community problems and regulations than secular priests. The habit does not make the retreat master; it's his union with the Divine Master that makes the difference in the retreat. I believe they should be chosen for their individual capabilities, not confined to orders at all. It might be a good idea if some center could be designated "~here one could send in names to be recommended and likewise receive such information. FAI~IfLIARITY WITH CONSTITUTIONS The. next item of inquiry offered results charac.terized by a greater degree of agreement than the preceding. Dealing with the retreat master"s, familiarity with the congregation's consfitutions, the quest.ion was framed in the fo!lowi.ng words: " Do you like the retreat master to be. familiar with the Constitutions of you~ ,. congregation and refer to them in his talk~? .-~, .yes ___no ___it makes little difference Further comment: danuaCg, 1956 SISTERS' RETREATS--][ The vast, majority of sisters, 616 (89.0%), desire the retreat master to be well acquainted with their particular constitution.s, while an exceedingly small° numl~er, 5 (.7 %), register an opposing vote. A small minority, 71 (10.3%), do not see that a knowledge of the constitutions makes very much difference. The latter group offered the following comments on their answers: I should like the retreat master to be f~miliar with the Rule but not necessarily the specifications given in Constitutions. Retreat should be a time of spiritual deep-ening. Intei'pretation of Constitutions belongs to the religious superior. I think it is more important that he know the spirit of the congregation than the actual constitutions, for every sister can read "these latter at any time herself. If he gives me the spiritual fundamentals, I can apply thXem to my own life. ,I know the practical details of my Rule and its spirit, better than he does. Often retreat masters interpret our rules in terms of the spirit of theic institutes. The sisters holding the majority opinion have a wide variet)~ of somewhat related reasons for their view: Very definitely. You prefer someone whose foundation is sound. It doesn't help you to gain the spirit of someone else's order. If your Constitution states specific virtues, it is more helpfhl to discuss these. Every sister knows that her Rule is her way of life and she has more confidence in you if you are willing to take the time to study God's plan for her. If he isn't familiar with the Rules and practices of tl~e community, it is the better part of wisdom not to assume that this community is exactly like that community'. It loses some of the rapport when a retreat master, for example, keeps referring to. "when you say the office; now in the recitation of the office, etc." when it so happens that your community, does not say the office. Knowing that the retreat master is familiar with the Constitutions makes it easier to discuss problems in confession. It is of no encouragement to have the confessor ask one: Do you have to do that? When I ask for guidance or enlightenment, I presume the confessor to know what I have to do and tell me frankly." If he is familiar with our Constitution he will know. Interpretation by someone outside the community sometimes brings a greater ap-preciation of the rule. The retreat is more practical, and you fed as though he is interested in your com-munity and the advancement of its members in the spiritual life. That is our custom and we prefer it. 'However, retreat masters must be prudent and careful, never permitting themselves the liberty of direct or indirect criticism of an approved rule. We had that ~xperience once and the sisters resented it. This is essential, I think, if a, pplications and illustrations are to be meaningful. As members of a religious congregation our sanctification will be attained by doing God's will according to the spirit and customs of our particular congregation. What better thing could be done during retreat than to .get more deeply acquainted with them? THOMAS DUBAY .It makes us feel he takes more interest and thus gives us more confidence. Customs and traditions are important and a talk on visits home to sisters who are not permit'ted to visit home is wasted. Very definitely. I have gone through whole retreats in which the talks were geared to teaching sisters, and our whole congregation is engaged in nursing. Besides the spirit of each community is different, also the practice of particular virtues, appli- .cation of rules, etc. I think the retreat master should discuss the Constitutions beforehand with some superior or the provincial in order to be sure he applies it as intended. We may conclude from these observations that ordinarily the retreat master will do well to read over a copy of the sisters' con-stitutions before he begins to prepare his retreat. Because it is in the nature of the written word to need a living interpreter, he can also with profit seek comments and observations on community customs 'and interpretations from some one of the older sisters. 'She will ordinarily be a superior. OUR CONTRIBUTORS THOMAS DUBAY, author of The Seminary Rule, is now at the Marist Col-lege, Washington, D. C. JOHN R. POST is master of novices at Shadowbrook, Lenox, Mass. JOHN 3. LYNCH is a professor of moral theology at Weston College, Weston, Mass. SOME RECENT PAMPHI'ETS GRAIL PUBLICATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana The Mass: Homage to God. By Paul R. Milde, O.S.B. Pp. 28. 15 cents. dog Is Your Heritage. By John M. Scott, S.J. Pp. 45. 15cents. The Holy Man of Ars. Saint dohn Baptist Vianneg. By Dom Ernest Graf, O.S.B. Pp. 40. 25 cents. Saint Luke Paints a Picture. Our Lady of Perpetual Help. By Sister M. Julian Baird, R.S.M. Pp. 8. 5 cents. FROM OTHER PUBLISHERS Spiritual Direction. A Current Bibliography. Department of Religion, University of Notre Dame, Notre Dame, Indiana. Pp. 11. Padre Magin Catala. By Aloysius S. Stern, S.J. University of San Francisco, San Francisco 17, California. Pp. 20. Free on request. So You're Going to Teach Religion. By Richard R. Baker, Ph.D. George A. Pflaum, Inc., Dayton 2, Ohio. 10 cents. Time Out to Think. By Gene J. Jakubek, S.J. San-Del Printing Co., 602 :Gratiot Street, St. Louis, Missouri. Pp. 22. 15 cents. 10 Novice Masl:er's Obliga!:ions Secrecy John R. Post, S.J. A master of novices by reason of his office is made the custodian of many secrets. His young charges in asking for direction confide in him their faults and spiritual difficulties, and in so doing they lay on him the obligation of concealing these faults from others. To reveal or even t-o use this knowledge outside the limits laid down for the entrusted secret would, of course, be sinful. Yet, a master is often obliged by canon 563 to give a report to higher superiors on the conduct of his novices; and, in order to protect the order from unsuitable members, he may even desire to dismiss a novice on the basis of knowledge learned only in confidence. Can he reveal or use such knowledge with a good conscience? This ap-parent clash of obligations poses a few moral problems which the following pages will attempt to solve. It will help at the beginning if we clarify in general the position of the novice master with regard to his novices. There is more to his job than the rejection of the unfit. He must also act as spiritual director. His work, then, is not exactly the same as the doctor's who examines candidates before entrance. The doctor's work is primarily for the benefit of the order and is known as such by the candidates. Father Vermeersch remarks that a doctor who examines applicants for their physical fitness is thereby excused from the obligation of keeping his entrusted secret as far as revealing his findings to the superior is concerned. The reason given is that the boy understands this to be the purpose of the examination and implicitly gives his ~onsent beforehand to the doctor's revelation. But, if a .novice master wants to carry on as a spiritual director, such a consent on the part of his novices cannot be presumed. Human nature being what it is, he could not expect young men to confide in him their faults and failings while they know that he is free to use this knowledge for their dismissal. So, 'to maintain the confidence of his charges, he must in his many interviews with them consider himself bound by the various secrets, except in the rare cases where the commo,n good allows revelation, trusting that divine providence and his own powers of persuasion will rid the order of undesirable members. GENERAL DOCTRINE ON SECRETS A secret is some hidden knowledge belongjng.to.a person by 11 JOHN R. POST Reoiew for Religious strict right, ,which cannot be sought after, used, or revealed by an-other con.treaty to the reasonable will of the owner. Thus the ob-ligation of keeping a secret usually derives from the virtues of both justice and charity. For example, to learn from reading the incoming mail that a novice's brother is thinking of becomi~3g a priest and to reveal it before the matter has b~come public might be displeasing to the novice and hence against charity. The act would also violate justice, first, because the information belongs only to the novice and his brother by strict right, and secondly, the act breaks an im-' plicit contract with the novice to keep secret the matter of his letters. Of the four different kinds of secrets-~confessionaI, entrusted, promised, and natural--only three have a definite place in the work of a novice master. The con~:essional secret concerns the knowl-edge communicate~d to a priest in the sacrament of penance.1 The entrusted secret is one that is confided to another under a con-tract that he will not use the information without the consent and according to the good pleasure of the giver. This contract is im-plied when one goes to consult with doctors, lawyers, or priests acting in their professional capacity. The natural secret concerns something one happens upon in the life of another and which the nature of human society demands should be kept secret. All three of these secrets bind under grave sin if their revelation' would be seriously harmful. On the other hand, moralists agree that there is.no secret-~ex~ cept the confessional--which does not have its limits. The reason is that no obligation to keep a human secret is so strong that a stronger obligation to reveal it cannot present itself. In other words, when an obligation to conceal interferes with a higher good, ~t shbuld cease. This principle, however diffic[dt in practice, is gen-erally recognized in theory. The Church overrides the obligation to keep a natural secret when she asks her children, to testify to im-pediments found in future spouses and priests. Doctors, too, are sometimes obliged to report bullet wounds to the police in accord-ance with the principle that the common good at times demands exceptions even to the entrusted secret. It is certain doctrine, there-fore, that the revelation of a human secret is justified when it i~ necessary to prevent preponderant h~arm to the community, to the owner of a secret, to its recipient, or to a third party. Sometimes, too, revelation can be justified if the consent of the owner'can be 1Though canon 891 forbids the master to hear novices' confessions generally, it does allow it in certain cases. , 12 January, 1956 OBLIGATIONS TO SECRECY reasonably presumed. THE CONFESSIONAL SECRET The. obligation of keeping secret whatever is known from a sacramental confession is the weightiest there is--stemming as it does from the divine law and protecting one of the most precious means of salvation. Every priest, therefore, is forbidden not only to reveal confessional knowledg,e, but even to use it in a way that would render this consoling sacrament odious or more burdensome to penitents. A novice master, for example, who knew only from confession that one novice had an aversion for another could not, without the permission of l~is penitent, use this information in making out the bands, or groups, for recreation, even though he knew it would be for the penitent's good. The reason why such use of confessional knowledge is forbidden is not merely that it might work a hardship on the individual penitent, but also that the very fact that if such use of confessional knowledge were permitted, it would be a-bur-den for penitents in general and would make confession more diffi-cult. Hence, even in a case in which the individual penitent might be pleased (e.g., because he was removed from the company of someone he found disagreeable), the novice master could not use the knowledge without express permission. One might think that the novice's permission for such changes as these could readily be presumed, but it is" the universal teaching of theologians today that permission may never be presumed for the use of confessional knowledge. The reason is again the same: if permission could sometimes be presumed, this would diminish the security the confessional is supposed to offer and thus make con-fession more difficult. During confession, of course, the master is free to advise, per-suade, and guide the penitent out of his difficulties and even to bring up m.,atter from previous confessions. But outside of confession, if be wishes to speak to the novice about confessional matters he should have permission. Such permiss!on would be implied if the novice himself took the first step by referring to matters he had confessed. Tt~tE ENTRUSTED SECRET It would seem that most of the novice master's knowledge of his charges will come under the heading of entrusted or committed secret. Because he is designated by the order as the spiritual father 13 JOHN R. POST~, . ~ . ; ~ Revieu~ for Religious 6f '.the .novices, ~there~is set up. between him and th~'m the mutual understanding that ,whatever is: confided to him will be kept hidden and~never used in any way that will jeopardize their interests. This promise or pledge.is inherent in his office; and, since the'common good not only of the novitiate, but of every community in which his novices w.ill _live depends' so much upon the confidence which they have in superiors, it is largely his duty to build up this con~ fidence in them from the very beginning. Some of the entrusted secrets are stricter than others, depending upon the channels through which they come to him, so we propose to treat them according to these several channels--secrets of mani-festation and spiritual direction, paternal denunciation and chapter -of faults, and inspection of mail. MANIFESTATION OF CONSCIENCE AND SPIRITUAL DIRECTION Next in strictness to the seal of confession is the secrecy which surrounds the rhanifestation of conscience. The reason for this is that'the manifestation, like the sacrament, has for its primary pur-' pose the spiritual Progress of the one making it, and to achieve this purpose some disclosure of conscience is necessary. Slnce, then, it comes so close in its matter and purpose to the sacrament of pen-ance, this .secret, of all the entrusted secrets, should be 'held the most sacred. Nev.ertheless, except in the case where the manifestation is made ~ander the seal of confession, more latitude is allowed the master in the use of what' he hears, always safeguarding, however, the rights and ~eeliflgs of the one who makes it, and always avoid-ing anything that 'would diminish confidence in. his office. The authors'who comment on this subject say that the novice aster '}nay not reveal anything heard in manifestation, even to higher superiors, without the consent of the novice. Thus, if a master were asked by his provincial or canonical visitor whether he had n.oticed an impediment in a certain novice, and the master knew of this impediment only through manifestation, he would be obliged to answer with a polite, "I do not know," or something similar. Wl~at then, if the impediment were an invalidating impediment --for. example, the novice had once apostatized from the Catholic Church~ and joined a non-Cath01ic sect--and the novice could not be persuade.d.to.d0 anything about it? The master may not reveal the. impe.dim.ent.o He may and should instruct the novice of his se~iou.syobligation to have the impediment removed before going L4" lanuat~, 1956 OBLIGATIONS TO SECRECY on; but, if the novice still refused, the mastei could neither reveal the impediment nor use. his knowledge for such things as dismiss-ing him, °or refusing to recommend him for vows, or even delaying his profession if the novice were acceptable on every other count. In matters such as-the foregoing, the secret of ~manifestation is, for all practical purposes, like the confessional secret. But when there is question merely of the spiritual good Of the novice, greater latitude would be allowed for the use of knowledge because, in some cases at least, permission to use manifestation knowledge may be presumed. The reasons for this are, first, that there is no absolute prohibition of presumed permission as there is in matter of con-fession, and. secondly, all n~vices understand that the novitiate is a time of probation where hard things will be asked of them-. More-over, in some orders novices are ins'tructed beforehand that-one of the purposes of the manifestation is to provide superiors with knowl-edge that will .help them to govern paternally, assign subjects to proper offices, guard them from temptations, etc. In strict right, then, the novice master can, unless the novice expressly forbids it. use manifestation knowledge to change his occupation, living quar-ters, companions, etc., provided that there is no danger of revela-tion and the best interests of both novice and the order are served. .But presumptions must yield to facts; so sometimes prudence may require that, before using this knowledge in a way displeasing to a novice, the master sound him out beforehand. Outside a novice's manifestation, of course, the master may speak to him irl private about sins mentioned, not in confession, but in manifestation in order to warn him or to exhort him to do better, provided that everything is kept under the same seal of secr.ecy; for these private interviews of spiritual direction partake of the nature of a manifestation. PATERNAL DENUNCIATION AND CHAPTER OF FAULTS According to Suarez, the denunciation of another's faults to .a superior as to a father is only a method of-fulfilling the, injunction of fraternal correction imposed on all Christians b) our Lo~d ih Matthew 18:15. Going on occasions to the st~perior first, instead of directly to the culprit, though a departure from the order estab-lished by our Lord, does, nevertheless, fulfill the gospel injunction substantially; for the superior, acting solely .as the instrument ,of the inforrfiant, is obliged to use this knowledge within the limits "of the informant's "ih~ention. 'Pr~siaming, then, that the-informant's JOHN R. POST Review for Religious intention is exclusively one of charity for a fellow novice, the master is obliged to act towards the delinquent as a lather, who desires ,only the correction and improvement of his son, not as a judge who, looking first to the common good, may for that end punish severely and even dismiss from the order. This being so, suppose a novice master learns from one boy that another has been speaking against the institute. Could he dis-miss the culprit or hold up his vows or give him a public penance on the strength of this denunciation alone? No, for this would be acting judiciall~l and contrary to the intention of the informant, whose only intention presumably was that the delinquent be ad-monished privately and Watched over for his own good. $o, in paternal denunciations the master is obliged to restrict his use of the denunciation to what is nicessary for the private correction of the delinquent. Can a superior reveal the matter of the denunciation to others? Not any more than is required to attain the end of the denunciation. But, if. it is necessary to tell the provincial, for example, in order to change the delinquent from one office to another, the master must warn him that this knowledge is in the paternal forum2 and cann6t be used judicially. If others have to be consulted, the same warning must be given to them and the name of the delinquent withheld. But, if it is impossible to get their advice without revealing the name, they must be bound to strict secrecy also. With regard to the use of such knowledge, the master may do whatever he judges necessary for the spiritual good o~ the delinquent short of notable injury to reputation and expulsion. Hence, he may admonish him privately, reprehend sharply, change his occupation, even though these may be repugnant to the novice. In all of this the novice master is bound under a double, secret to the informant. The first is an obligation not to use the knowl-edge contrary to his intention; the second not to reveal the name of the informant and to protect him against any harm that might be-fall him as a result of his act of charity. Both of these ard entrusted secrets. Obviously, if the fault is more serious and the intention of the informant is primarily to protect the community from an unworthy 2For a more complete explanation of the difference between the paternal forum and the judicial forum, the reader is referred to the article "Paternal Government and Filial Confidence in Superiors," by John C. Ford, S.J., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, II (1943), 146-55. 16 Januar~j, 1956"'" OBLIGATIONS ~: :to SECRECY member, then, this would not be a paternal but a judicial' denunci-ation; and the master would ~be free to proceed to dismissal if he judged it wise. When it is not clear, however, what kind of denunci-ation is being made, the master must question the informant about his intention; for he would be violating an entrusted secret if he began proceedings in the judicial forum without the consent of the informant. And this consent the latter is obliged to give as often as dismissal by. moral estimate is the only way to prevent grave injury to a third party or to the community. The chapter of faults, like the paternal denunciation, is another form of paternal correction. Here a novice in the presence of the master is admonished of his exterior faults by each of his fellow novices in turn. This should be done of course out of the sincerest charity, the only motive being to improve the individual spiritually. The master's use of information learned in chapter, therefore, is governed by the same principles that were laid down for the paternal denunciation, except that, since all present have already learned of the fault, he has more freedom as far as the reputation of the sub-ject is concerned. About this exercise Father John Ford, S.J., writes, "It is not proper to use judicially material revealed therein. The fact that all novices participate in this exercise does not change the principle. But the fact that all are present is the reason why only lesser ex-ternal faults are fit subject matter for revelation in the chapter, and why it would be improper for anyone to reveal anything serious enough to warrant the dismissal of a novice. If an imprudent novice. were to reveal such a fault, all present would be bound by the secret and the master of novices would be obliged to presume that the revelation was intended as part of the exercise of fraternal cor-rection, and therefore, not to be used judicially,, for example, by dismissing the novice." THE INsPEcTION OF MAIL , The last of the secrets entrusted to a novice master are those which be learns from the inspection of mail. Since this right of in-spectioh is given to him only to help in the paternal governm, ent of souls and to protect their interior lives from harm, he may never use this knowledge for any other purpose. As Father Genicot says, "He cannot make a wider use of it, unless he, can presume the con-sent of the writer or receiver, which cannot be presumed, of course, if it would cause hardship to either one.''3 Although the subject 3Tbeologia Moralis, 3rd ed., I, p, 395. 17 ~JOHN R. POST Review [or Religious matter of letters is not usually as confidential as that in the patelnal denunciation, still both are in the paterna! forum; and their use and revelation should follow the same principles. Canon 611 denies to all superiors the right to open letters of subjects to or from higher superiors. To do so, therefore, would be to invade the natural right of the subject; and, if a letter of this kind were opened by mistake, the knowledge so acquired could not be used without injustice. SOME IMPROBABLE CASES OF ENTRUSTED SECRETS Thus far we have taken for granted that revelation of an entrusted secret was not necessary to prevent serious harm to the community or to some third party. Now, let us consider some occasions when the preponderant harm done to others by concealment might seem to.justify the revelation of such a secret, or at least its use in dis-missing a novice. First, suppose a novice master discovered in man(festation that a novice had a habit of impurity that made him unfit for the re-ligious life and that might bring great harm to the community. Could the master reveal this knowledge to the provincial with a view to the novice's dismissal, if after exhortation the novice re-fused to go? Or, could the master himself use the knowledge to dismiss the novice without revealing the cause? It might seem at first that a master of'novices could reveal such knowledge to the provincial. And he could if it were only a ques-tion of choosing between the. harm to the individual novice and that threatening the community. But a third element enters into the case in favor of concealment, and that is the element of general confidence in the institution of manifestation as such. The moral harm done to a community by a loss of confidence in its spiritual directors is so great that moralists are inclined to say that no ex-ception to the secrecy of spiritual direction should be allowed.4 And, if we consider, as we have done, how close the manifestation comes to the sacrament of confession in its matter' and its purpose, we should not wonder that, more than all the other entrusted secrets, it should share somewhat in the inviolability of that sacrament. ~A principal difficulty against this solution seems to come from an, analogy, with other entrusted secrets. Most theologians, for in~- :(Cf. Francis J. Connell, C.SS.R., American Ecclesiastical Review, March, 1953, pp. 200-201; John C: Ford, S.J., "and Gerald Kelly, S.J., ,'Theological StudieL March, 1954, pp. 83-84. 18 ~ ]anuarg, 1956 OBLIGATIONS To'SECREC~ stance, will allow a doctor, to warn a prospective bride qf he finds that her fianc~ has a contagious disease which would threaten her health and future happiness. Here is an entrusted secret which can. be revealed to protect a third party, why cannot the same be done~ '~ove? Because, though both are entrusted secrets, still the s.ecret. of manifestation is on a higher level than that of the medical secret; for the confidence which men have in their spiritual directors is both more important for the common good and also more fragile than. the confidence they have ifi their doctor.s, though both are important. For all practical purposes, therefore, the secret of manifestation should be kept almost as inviolable as that of confession. Can the novice master in the~ case above use the manifestation knowledge to dismiss the novice without revealing the secret to any-one.? Even if he had the power from the provincial, it would seem that he should forego the bare use of it for purposes of dismissal. Father Ren~ Brouillard says that, although in strict right a superior could, to avert a preponderant harm to th~ community, use mani-festation knowledge against an individual, still it would be prefer-able for reasons of prudence and discretion not to use it euen in extreme cases because this kind" of secret approaches the nature of the confessional secret; and a betrayal might easily mean the loss of confidence by'the whole community,5 Next, take a case involving a secret' learned only in paternal denunciation. One novice reports to the master that another has been the aggressor in a mutual sin of unchastity: and, when ques-tioned by the master, the culprit admits it, but says that it is the only time he has ever sinned that way and he is really con- "trite. Moreover, the master cannot persuade him to go willingly. When the master questions the informant about his intention i.n making the denunciation, he finds that it was ~nly to help the. culprit to amend. Hence, if the informant is unwilling to let the master act judicially, the master's hands are tied. The reason is that the threat to the moral health of the community or third ¯ party does not seem to be great enough to excuse from the entrusted secret, especially since other means such as exhortation and separ-. ation of the two novices can still be tried to avert the danger. But," if it were clear that the delinquent were confirmed .in a habit of unchastity with others, then the master, after using all other means,. could resort to dismissal even without, the consent of the informant; fbr the d~iinquent wou'ld in this c~se ,constitute a proportionately gRevue des comrnunautes religieuses, III (1927), 104. 19 JOHN R. POST Review for Religious grave threat to the virtue and reputation of the community. Lastly, suppose the master of novices learns through the inspec-tion of mail that one of his charges just before vows has a debt of $10,000 hanging over his head. His creditor, knowing the situa-tion, writes in his letter that he. intends to "bleed" the order for the sum after vows. The master knows of thi~ debt only through this letter and is unable to persuade the novice to leave. What he to do? In this case to protect'the order from serious harm, the master could dismiss the novice, despite his pbjections; and, if it were necessary to forestall distrust, he might even make public the reason for dismissal. Such cases, thank God, are very rare among novices, due largely to the careful examinations they go through before entrance and also to the fact that, when there is just reason for dismissal, they can usually be made to see it. But, when a case like the above does arise, the master must remember that in choosing between two evils charity always obliges him to choose the less; the two evils here being the harm to be done to the community or to a third party by his concealment, and the harm to the culprit and the institution of fraternal correction, or manifestation, c;r inspection of mail by his revelation. NATURAL SECRETS When the ordinary religious observes an otherwise hidden fault of a fellow religious, he is bound in justice and charity not to re-veal it any more than is necessary, in this matter the novice master is not like an ordinary religious. As regards his novices, he is not only a spiritual director, but also a superior. If he should find a novice engaged in some prank, he would certainly not violate justice by giving him a public penance--though he might violate charity if a private admonition were sufficient for the correction of the cul-prit and for the preservation of religious discipline. Moreover, if the fault were sufficiently serious, he could proceed to the dismissal of the novice. Novices recognize from the beginning that the master ha~ this right, for they know that they are undergoing an exam-ination by the order. A~.d just as in a scholastic examination the results can be used by the teacher to dismiss a boy from school, without any violation of a natural secret, so too in the use of this knowledge which he. acquired from personal observation the master of novices has the widest scope in which to exercise his administrative powers. 2O January/, 19~6 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS As regards externs, the novice master has the same basic duty as others to preserve the natural secret. Suppose, for instance, that he had dismissed a novice for some fault that he had observed, and later were asked by a school or a business firm for the cause of the boy:s dismissal. He would be violating a natural secret were he to reveal this fault if it would not unfit the boy for business or a stu-dent's career." The case, however, 'would be some'what different if be were asked to give testimonial letters concerning an ex-novice of his who wanted to enter another religious order, for here canon 545,n.4, makes it clear that merely natural secrets must give way to the needs of the Church. By the same token he is bound to re-veal the natural secrets of his novices when ordered to do so by his own higher superiors; and, if they are significant enough, he may include them in his regular report (can. 563). CONCLUSION To sum up, then, the master of novices must try to balance as best he can the interests of both the order and the individual soul; and, when any one of his obligations to secrecy seems to tie his hands~ let him take consolation from the words of the divine master, "Let them both grow until the harvest . . . lest while you gather up the cockle, you root up the wheat also together with it." ( ues ons ncl Answers I In my striving for perfection I find if difficult to submit to God's will by acceptlncj my superior as she. is. Her inconsistencies induce murmur-ing; her injustice provokes scandal; her partiality seems at times unbear-able. What can I do about it? Sister might do well to cultivate the habit, by reading, reflection, prayer, exercise, experience, etc., of seeing the whole matter through God's eyes, as it were, and then of feeling about it as that vision suggests. God sees the superior's imperfections, but also the good consequences that sooner or later He can draw out of them. He does not like her inconsistencies either; but He does not expect human beings to be completely qonsistent, and He will make those deviations conduce to greater good eventually. Similarly He views 21 :QUi~'~IONS"AND ANSWERS Review [oF Religio~s "her injustice and,partiality and disapproves of them; ~but they also ¯ ~re tolerated in His infinitely, wise a'nd holy' and potent designs. He '.knows that if sister shouldobey an imperfect superior perfectly, hei? ¯ obedience would be all the more excellent, and more to His glory, ,and especially to her own pleasure and gain and sanctity in" the end. She would also be more Christlike, with all the advantages ' that this likeness implies; Christ's obedience would haste been rela- ¯ tively commonplace had the powers, in His time been just what :they should have been. The malice and unreasonableness of His persecutors were His opportunity. : May. a religious, without seekln9 permission from his superior, offer his life to God, that is, volunteer to let God take his life for some special pur-pose? Whatever good there is in such an act is contained in loving God with all one's forces, or in trying to accomplish the will of God "on earth as in heaven," or in being perfect as one's heavenly Father is perfect; and very obviously no permission is required for such practices. Superiors do,not have authority in the matter of directly terminating life. Even if. they did, it would seem that one could go over their heads to the Supreme Superior of all superiors. --AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD, S.J. I am a sister and a supervisor on a hospital hall. I wanted to cjo to confession. A priest of one of the ~:ify parishes had finished visiting a patient, and I asked him to hear my confession in a vacant room on the hall and also told him that I could not !eave the hall becauseof a patient. who was in a critical condition and r.equired constant attention. He kept hesltatincj and asklncj me questions. Finally he said he could~not hear my .confession outside of the confessional in the chapel. Why couldn't he? This priest, since he had jurisdiction for the confessions of .other women in the diocese but did not antecedently possess special .jurisdiction over you/ a religious woman, is. termed the occasional confessor of religious women. He could hear your confession validly .only in the legitimate place. This is the only case in which place is required .for the t~alidity of a confession. The confessions of women, including religious women, may not be heard licitly ohtside of the .confessiorial except in a case of sickness or for other reasons of about ~the same or greater import than sickness (c.,910,' § 1). If such a :reason existed, he could have heard your .confes~i0fi bdth validly danuary, 1956 ' QUESTION'S AND ANSWERS and licitly outside the confes.sional, e.g., in the room you mentioned, Examples of such sufficient reasons are those of a sister'confined~ to her room by a sickness that is not serious, deafness, a sister who wishes to go to confession but cannot leave a patient, the probable danger of, a sacrilegious confession or Communion, the probable danger ofserious infamy or scandal, of gossip in the community, or shame or fear with regard to going to the confessional. The prudent and at least probable judgment of the confessor of the sufficiency of the reason for hearing the confession outside the confessional is all that is required. Regatillo gives what appears to me to be a very sound practical norm of action for a confessor when he is requested to hear the confession of a religious woman outside the confessional and the sufficiency of the reason is not immediately clear to him. The confessor is to indicate the prohibition of hearing a confession in this manner except for a sufficient reason; but, if the religious woman insists, he may hear the confession outside the confessional Any .precautions prescribed by the local ordinary on the confessions of women outside the confessional are to be observed. A sufficient reason existed in this case, and the confession could therefore have been heard both validly and licitly outside the confessional. Cf. Regatillo, Institutiones Iuris Canonici I, 355; De Carlo, De Religiosis, n. 172, 5 ; Genicot-Salsmans, Theoloqia Moralis, II, Ed. 17, n. 319. Our constitutions read: "In ~he practice of ordinary private corporal mortifications and penances, the sisters are to be directed by the judcj-ment of the confe'ssor alone; for external and public acts they must have also the permiss~ion of the local superior." I am a mother provincial, and I have a sister who is practicin9 private penance with the consent of her confessor in a way that is injurious to both her physical and mental health. Are her local superior and I simply powerless to do anything? This article of the constitutions is to be interpreted according to the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions. Accord-ing to this practice, the permission of a confessgr or spiritual director suffices for private acts of mortification and penance. A superior may" also grant this permission. It is more prudent tb consult one,of these, especially for habitual acts; but permission is not o~ obliga-tion unless this obligationqs stated in the laws or customs of the institute. For public acts, i.e., those dbne in the presence of at least a good part of the community, such as the community penanc~'s ~ir~ the refectory, the permission of the superior is necessary, rail su- QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Reoiew [or Religious periors also have the right of vigilance, over private acts and may moderate or forbid such acts, even if permitted by a confessor or spiritual director, when they create a danger to health, religious discipline, or the work of' the institute. All such matters of their very nature fall under the government of superiors, e.g., the care of the health of subjects is not only a right but also an obligation of superiors. --S-- In our community we have always recited the Little Office of the B.V. M. in English. Do we cjain ÷he indulcjences granted for the recitation of this office? The indulgences are listed in the Raccolta, n. 318. Can. 934, § 2, enacts that the indulgences attached to prayers may be acquired by .reciting the prayers in any language, provided the translation is approved. The Little Office of the B. V. M. is an exception to this norm, since the Holy See has declared that for the gaining of its indulgences this office must be recited in Latin when the reci-tation is public but may be recited in the-vernacular when the recitation is private. The Holy See has also defined private recita-tion in this matter. "The recitation of the Little Office of the B. V. M. is still to be held as private although done in common within the confines of the religious house and even when done behind closed doors in a church or public oratory attached to the house." (Acta Sanctae Sedis, 40 [1907], 187-88.) The common or choral reci-tation of the office by sisters is within the confines of the religious house, since it is done in the semipublic oratories of convents. If exceptionally a community Should recite this office in a church or public oratory attached to the house, the doors are considered open only when the public is admitted generally or indiscriminately, not when a few determined persons are allowed to enter. There-fore, not only the individual but also the choral recitation of this office in the houses of religious is to be considered~ private and, if done in the vernacular, sufficient for the indulgences in either case. Cf. Beringer-Steinen-Maz0yer, Les Indulgences, I, nn. 206, 756; De Angelis, De Indulgentiis, n. 92; Heylen, De Indulgentiis, 67; Battandier, Guide Canonique, n. 272. Is ÷here any law of the Church on the name or title of a religious insfi-÷ufe? This legislation is found in can. 492, § 3, which prescribes that 24 danuar~l, 1956 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS new.congregations may not assufiae the name of any religious in-stitute already established. It is sufficient that the flame be somewhat different, e.g., Sisters of St. 3oseph of Cluny, Sisters of St. doseph of Newark. The title or name of the congregation may be taken from the attributes of God, the mysteries of our holy faith, some feast of our Lord or the Blessed Virgin, the saints, or the special purpose of the congregation. The name should not be artificial nor should it express or imply any form of devotion that is not ap-proved by the Holy See. If I may presume to add anything to this law and practice of the Holy See, I would suggest that the name should not be unduly long; and I would emphasize this suggestion even more for the names of provinces and especially of houses. --7-- Is it a fact that the Holy See stated that sisters are not to lower their veil before or after receiving Holy Communion.7 Some communities have stopped doing so; others still do it. I have no knowledge of a published statement of the Holy See directly on this practice. The S. Congregation of the Sacraments did say: "When Holy Communion is being received, all those things are to be avoided which create greater difficulty for a young person who wishes to abstain from Holy Communion, but in such a way that his abstinence will not be noticed" (Bouscaren: Canon Lau; Di- _ gest, II, 214). It can also be held that the same principle is implicit throughout this instruction, which treats of daily Communion and the precautions to be taken against abuse. It would be more in the spirit of this instruction to eliminate the practice. Even prescinding from the instruction, I see no good reason for the retention of the practice. It is also the cause at least of wonderment to small children when done in church. The same lack of reasonableness is to be predicated of an unna.turally slow pace in approaching the altar rail or in returning to one's place in the chapel or church. Like the rubrics of the Church, other practices should express reverence in a natural manner. --8-- I am a religious priest and,regularly say the community Mass in a con-vent. May I never say the Masses of my own institute? Convent chapels are semipublic oratories? The principal semi-public oratory is tba~ used for the religious exercises, especially for the hearing of Mass; other chapels of the house are secondary semi- 25 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review [or Religiou's public oratories.~ The generhl principle is that the place of celebra-tion determines'the ordo (calendar) to be followed for Mass. Tl~erefore: 1. In the principal semipublic oratory, every priest, diocesan or .re!igious, must say Mass according to the ordo of such an oratory, whether the ordo is diocesan or proper to the religious, e.g., "Fran-ciscan,~ Dominican. a. The priest does not follow the special rites or ceremonies of religious orders or churches, e.g., a diocesan priest does not me, ntion the founder of a religiotis order in the Cont~iteor. b. The. priest may celebrate votive or requiem Masses permitted by the ordo of such an oratory, even though not permitted by his own ordo. ' c. When the ordo of such an oratory permits private votive Masses, the priest may say the Mass of the office of the day for such a place or a votive or requiem Mass, and in all of these he follows the ordo of the oratory in every respect. Or he may say the Mass that cor-responds to his own ordo, even if only that of a blessed. If he does so, he is to say the Mass in the festal, not votive,' manner, i.e., he says the Mass exactly as he would in his own church or oratory. d. The norm for a principal semipublic oratory applies also to a church "and a public oratory. 2. In the secondary semipublic oratories, a priest may.but is not obliged to follow the ordo of the place of celebration. He may and ,prefer.ably should follow his own ordo, because of the general prin-ciple that the Mass should as far as possible be in conformity with the office. 'This norm also applies to Mass in a private oratory and outside a sacred place. ~ 3. The ordo of the oratories of lay religious is the diocesan i~rdo except in the case of religious who have a proper ordo. In practice a proper ordo will be found only iia the second'order of nuns or third orders of c0ngreg.ation~s of sisters. These have the right of following the ordo of the first order of religious men to which they are affili-ated, e.g., Franciscan sisters have the right of following the ordo of the first order.of Franciscan men to which they are affiliated. An in-stitute subject to the diocesan ordo may also have some special Masses granted by the Holy See. 4.~. Cardinais and bishops have the privilege of following' tl~eir own ordo wherever they celebrate. Cf. J'. O'Connell, The Celebra-tion of Mass, 58-61.'---JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. 26 I:'orbidden;,. Re ding John J. Lynch~ S.J. | T-is 'rather cor~mon knowledge among Catholics that ~l~e Church | forbids her subjects to read certain publications which she~judges would be a threat to faith or morals. Beyond ~hat g~neric"facL however, common knowledge does not proceed very far--partiall~r, perhaps, because more detailed information is not a practical ne-cessitj" for the many who prefer to restrict their reading either 'to professedly Catholic publications or to literature which di3es not verge ori religious or moral matters. But it' is also unfortunately true that more detailed information on this law is not abundantly available except.in technical manuals of moral theology and canon law. Hence even those who desire or need enlightenment find them-selves under a certain handicap for want of informationa.l sources. It is primarily for that latter reason that the subject appears, ap-propriate to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Even though limitations of spac? forbid an exhaustive treatment here, it may be possible to in-dicate the basic principles involved and to recommend for more de-tailed explanation other authors' whose writings in the vernacular are conveniently available. THE CHURCH'S RIGHT TO CONTROL RI~ADING The point of departi~re for any intelligent discussion of this question is the established fact that the Church is divinely instituted, vested with full right to teach authoritatively and to rule in matters religious, and charged byr Christ Himself with the responsibility .~f safeguarding Catholic faith and morals. In these matters the voice of the Church is the voice of God and commands the same unques- [ioning obedience which is due the word of God Himself. Further-more-- a psychological fact which any rational individual must ad-mit- the printed word Can and does exert on the human intellect .and will a most powerful influence for both good and evil and is, consequently, a mighty factor in the preservation or destruction of personal faith and morals. Hence in all reasonableness we must concede the right and duty of the Church, if she deems .it necessary, to exercise a measure of control over the literature we read anal to establish norms and regulations whereby the faith and morals" of her subjects will be protected from what we might call "subversive influences," Neither her authority in that sphere, nor her essential 'wisdom in the exercise of that authority, Can be yalidly que~tioned :2,7 JOHN J. LYNCH Reoieto for Religious once we face the fact of her institution by God as official and ~iuthori-tative custodian of faith and morals. THE FACT OF LEGISLATIVE CONTROL In wl~at specific form has the Church de facto expressed her pro-hibition against certain publications? For practical purp6ses we need consider but two documents, one of which restricts itself to the presentation of generic norms which proscribe certain type~ of lit-erature, while the other provides an enumeration of individual works and authors condemned specifically by name. This latter chtalogue is commonly referred to as the Index of Forbidden Books; the more generic legislation is derived from Book III of the Code of Canon Law. They are not mutually independent and unrelated documents, as we shall see. And while the Index is probably more fa~iliar to most people as a term of reference, it is the Code upon which we lean more heavily when decision must be made regarding our freedom to read certain literature. Occasionally, too, local bishops will exercise their rightful .author-ity in this regard and forbid their respective subjects to read ~pecified publications. But since legislation of that kind is invariably brought to the immediate attention of the faithful from the puligit and through the diocesan press, there is no need here to delay; on that species of prohibition. I. THE CODE OF CANON LAW: CANON 1399 Canon 1399 lists eleven different categories of writing:which, regardless of title or specific author, are automatically classified as forbidden reading for Catholics. It is in no sense of the Word an arbitrary catalogue. Divine natural law obliges us to avoid;'if p?s-sible, reading anything which may imperil our faith or mortal recti.- tude. The Church in her wisdom and from the wealth of her ex-perience has merely specified that fundamental obligation of natural law by indicating in this canon various classes of literature, which are most likely to pose such a threat to the average individual. Since her norm of judgment is the ~iverage Catholic, and because We must concede the existence of Catholics who are above average in knowl-edge. of their faith and in unswerving adherence to its priniiples, a word about the pectiliar nature of this law is necessary for° an ap-preciation of its obliging force~ Law Foundbd on Presumption The law enunciated in cani3n 1399 is of the type which is said 28 danuar~t; 1956 FORBIDDEN READING to be: ;"founded on presumption." In other words, the legislator of such .a statute first, with good reason, pre.sumes something to be uhiversally true, and then on the basis of that presumption formu-lates a~ law. Presumption of Fact What is presumed as true may be a fact of some sort, on the assumed universality of which legislation is thereupon enacted. If, however, the fact presumed can be disproVen as non-existent in a given:instance, the law based thereon collapses in a sense, i.e., does not oblige in that individual case. Such laws are said to be "founded on a l/resumption of fact"; and it is the intention of the legislator that his law shall not bind in isolated instances where by way of excepiion the presumed fact is not verified. Perhaps an example will further clarify this notion of presump-tion of fact. Civil law, for instance, holds a husband legally re-sponsible for the support of all children born to his wife during their marriage. The fact on which that legislation is founded is the presumption, valid in the .great majority of cases, that a husband is the~natural father of his wife's children. If, however, contrary fact can be proven in an individual case, the law yields to that fact and dbes not apply in that particular instance. Presumption of Universal Danger Another presumption upon which legislation is sometimes based is that. of universal danger, i.e., danger to the common welfare. In this case a certain act is reasonably presumed to be usuaIl~t dangerous to the.individual and as alu~a~s a threat to the common good if not contr'o]led by law in each individual case. Hence the presumption, .or basis for the law, is twofold and directly regards not only the welfare of individual subjects but also and primarily the good of the commhnity as a whole. For this latter reason such a law does not cease t}o oblige the individual even if it should be apparerlt that the act in question threatens no danger to him personally; for there remains the further presumption that to allow individuals to make that d_ecislon for themselves will inevitably pose a threat to the common good. Thus, for example, in time of severe drought some communities 'have" f6rbidden all outdoor fires unless in each case a permit be first obtalne~t from local civil authority. Such a prohibition is founded on the'presumption tbat'danger to the community cannot be effec-tively ~iverted.if private citizens are allowed to decide for themselves ,JOHN J. LYNCH Review for Religious what precautions are adequate against ,uncontrolled conflagration. Hence civil authority reserves that decision to itself; and despite the acttial efficacy of .the precautions he may take, the individual will be held liable if he lights a fire without the permission of proper officials. For the primary presumption still obtains, viz., that it is dangerous to the common good to permit individuals to make such decisions for themselves without supervision. Presumption of Canon 1399 It is on this latter presumption of universal danger that the Church bases her law prohibiting certain types of literature. She recognizes th'e fact that the general faith will be imperiled if in-dividuals are allowed to judge for themselves in these cases the presence or absence of personal danger. Consequently this law is intended to oblige even those who have every reason to believe that the reading of° certain forbidden matter will not in the least affect their personal faith or morals. In the interests of the common good, the .right to pass judgment on that question is legitimately reserved by the Church to herself. Hence this positive law of the Church is designedly more strict than is natural .law on the same point. Natural law demands only that one avoid reading what is dangerous to oneself; positive Church law requires that we refrain also from reading whatever ecclesiastical~ authority }~as judged to be a threat to the faith and morals of the average individual. Natural law obliges us to consult only our own consciences when choosing matter for reading: ecclesiastical" law en-joins the further obligation of consulting designated superiors be-fore we can consider ourselves free to read certain publications. Extent of Canon 1399 Before summarizing the content of canon 1399, a brief word about the extent of the prohibition which this law expresses: 1. With the ~xception of cardinals, bishops, and several other .high ecclesiastics, all Catholics--clergy and religious as well as the laity--are subject to the Church's law of forbidden reading. It .goes without saying, of course, that no exemption from this positive law can ever imply freedom from natural law. Regardless of dig-nity or rank, no individual can escape the obligation of avoiding as far as possible any reading which may de facto constitute for him personally a threat to faith or morals., It is only within that area where positive precept is more stringent than naturhl law that cer-tain Church dignitaries are declared immune from obligation, on ,]anuarg. 1956 FORBIDDEN READING the legitimate presumption th~at the same exceptional qualities which merit them their rank will likewise guarantee their immunity from the harmful effects of the literature condemned by ecclesiastical law. 2. We are forbidden not only to read certain literature, but also to publish it, retain it in our possession, translate it into other lan-guages, and to sell or in any other way make it available to others. 3.' Although the Code speaks primarily of books, it also ex-plicitly states that, unless the contrary is evident in a particular con-text, the law applies equally to all manner of publications, whether booklets, pamphlets, magazine or newspaper articles, if these are substantially concerned with forbidden matter. 4. The prohibitions of this canon, although binding gravely in conscience, are not absolute in the sense of removing certain pub-lications irrevocably beyond the reach of Catholic readers. As will be seen later,in more detail, permission ~o read such matter can and will be granted v~hen reasonable request is made of proper authority. With these preliminary notions in mind, a glar)ce at the stipu-lations of canon 1399 will provide at least .a bird's-eye view of the literary area proscribed by ecclesiastical law. To cope with all the legal ramifications of this complex statute would require that genius and skill peculiar to professional canonists, and for that reason the following survey is purposely restricted to the larger aspects of the law. _As a possibl~ aid to memory,, the exact order of the canon itself has been abandoned in an effort to gather its finer and more elusive details within several broader categories. The four divisions actually employed here are still not completely distinct from one another; but they may serve to fix more firmly in the reader's memory the various types of literature which the Church considers most likely to exert a malign influence on the faithful. A. SCRIPTURAl. WORKS Since the Bible is the word Of God Himself and one of the au-thentic sources whence we derive the revealed truths of our Catholic faith, the Church has always exercised extreme vigilance over the exact letter and substance of Holy Scripture. As the constituted guardian of divine revelation, she insists therefore upon her exclusive right to pass judgment on any publication which attempts to repro-duce or to interpret the Bible either in whole or in part. Scientific scholarship, if exercised competently, objectively, and without bias, will never contradict the scriptural teaching of the Church. But there always remains the possibility 'that unscientific methods, re- 31 JOHN J. LYNCH Re~ieu~ /:or Religious ligious prejudice, or misdirected piety will adulterate the conclu-sions of biblical scholars; and for that reason the Church has re-stricted our right to read two classes of scriptural writings: 1. All editions of Hol~l Scripture which are compiled or pub-fished bq non-Catholics, whether these editions be presented in the language in which they were originally written or in ancient or modern translation--in other words, any non-Catholic edition of the Bible or parts of the Bible. The example which comes immediately to mind is the King James version so commonly used by English-speaking non-Catholics. But those who have engaged in biblical studies may also recognize such standard works as Rudolph Kittel's Biblia Hebraica, Psalterium duxta Hebraeos Hieronqmi by J. M. Harder, Nestle's Novum Testa-mentum, and Chicago Bible, an English translation of old and new testament compiled by a group of scholars under the auspices of the University of Chicago. All of these, as well as numerous others, are automatically ban'ned for most Catholics. By way of excep-tion, however, the Code allows anyone who is engaged in the study of either theology or scripture to make use of such works, provided that they are known to be faithful and integral reproductions of the original and to contain nothing by way of annotation or com-mentary which impugns Catholic dogma. Under the same. proviso, this privilege also applies to vernacular translations by Catholics when the reason for their prohibition (as explained immediately below) is failure to obtain proper ecclesiastical approbation. 2. Scriptural publications of Catholic authors who have failed to observe ecclesiastical law regarding prior censorship. (One infallible sign of proper compliance with this requirement is the "Imprimatur" usually found at the beginning of religious books published by Catholics.) Hence (a) Catholic editions of the Bible text, either in the original language or in translation, 0s well as (b) annotations'and commentaries on Sacred Scripture, are prohibited reading if they are published even by Catholics without proper ecclesiastical examination and approval. B. WRITINGS DESTRUCTIVE OF FAITH Faith can be understood here in a rather broad sense so as to include firm intellectual a~sent not only to those dogmas solemnly defined or traditionally taught by the Church as having been re-. vealed by God, but also to what may be termed the rational pre-rqquisites of faith in that strict, sense and the corollaries which 32 danuarg, 1956 FORBIDDEN READING logically follow from revealed truth. In order to protect effectively the hard core of revelation, the Church must also guard that peri-phery of truths and principles which, although not divinely revealed or solemnly defined, are inextricably linked to the deposit of faith. It is with this realization that canon 1399 goes into some detail-- repetitiously perhaps in spots--as to the various species of writing forbidden as pernicious to Catholic faith. 1. Writings which attack or ridicule Catholic dogma, or which impugn religion in general, or attempt in ang wag to destro~t the fun~aments of religion; publicatiohs which defend heresy, schism. or other errors condemned by the Holy See. This synthesis of several sections of canon 1399 comprises two generic methods of discrediting the Catholic faith: the direct attack whereby the positive teaching of the Church is allegedly refuted and claimed to-be false: and the more indirect approach whereby, even perhaps without explicit reference to Catholicism, certain false doctrines are defended as ostensibl~ true. The threat in. either case is reductively the same: either to wean the reader away from the true faith through disparagement or specious argu-ments or to attract him intellectually or emotionally to beliefs which a're opposed to Catholicism. When the Code speaks of attacking theological truth or of de-fending doctrinal error, it implies a deliberate, methodical, concen-trated attempt to prove or disprove by means of formal argumen-tation. Isolated and gratuitous assertions, incidental to some other predominant and harmless theme, would not suffice to verify this notion. So too of ridicule, calumny, skepticism, and the like. If such aspersions be persistent and an integral part of an author's manifest thesis they can go a long way towards creating doubt about re-ligious truth and can be sufficient to classify a work as condemned, under this heading. Heresy in theological terminology is th~ pertinacious denial or doubt of any truth which has been infallibly declared by the Church to be part of divine revelation. It is the rejection therefore of dogma, which signifies any doctrine so taught by the Church. By schism is meant the refusal of one already baptized to submit to the 're-ligious authority of the pope or to live in communion with the members of the Church who do acknowledge his authority. Over and above these more blatant defiances of ecclesiastical teaching authority, there-are other doctrines which may not di, rec~ly contradict the above-mentioned truths but which are at 33 JOHN J. LYNCH Reuieto /:or- Rel~'gious variance with certain other theological pri~nciples or conclusions which the Church defends as certainly true even though not con-tained perhaps in the direct revelation of Christ. Denial of these truths is condemned by the Church not as heretical but as false or erroneous. The :undaments o: religion are natural or supernatural order, on ness of our faith. Among these last and immortality of the human soul, bility and fact of divine revelation, all those truths, whether of the which depends the reasonable-' would be classified the existence freedom of the will, the possi-the possibility of miracles, 'etc. Many of these "fundaments" have also been explicitly taught by the Church, and hence would qualify also under one or another of the preceding paragraphs. With regard to the writings of the ver~f early heretics, theologians generally admit that they are not at the present time forbidden ab-solutely, at least to those who are well versed in the faith. The reason they alleg~e i~ that the errors defended in these ancient works have long since been universally recognized as false and no longer pose a common threat of perversion. Hence such collections as those of Labbe or Migne may be kept intact and their contents read~ even though they do include some of the heretical writings of ¯ Tertullian, Eusebius, Origen, and others. The same exception, however, cannot be made for the works of Luther, Calvi;a, Jansenius, and their like, whose errors are still extant and still dangerous. There is no need, however, to return to the Reformation era to find examples of literature which explicitly attacks theologidal truth or defends theological error. Unfortunately such writing is all too plentiful even in our own day. Christ and Catholicism, for instance, by Frederick A. Johnson .(New York: .Vintage Press,. 1954) openly attacks Catholicism both by specious argument and by ridicule, defends heresy, and propounds lesser theological errors. Its subtitle, "A Provocative and Trenchant Analysis of the Real Re-lationship Between Christianity and the Roman Catholic Church," is an accurate portents°of "its theme insofar as the real relationship alleged is one of substantial incompatibility rather than that of identity. Teachings explicitly attacked in one way'or another in-clude the apostolic origin and succession of popes, the indefecti-bility of Church doctrine, devotion to our Lady, the divine insti-tution of the Mass and the dogma of transubstantiation, the effi-cacy of indulgences and sacramentals, and th~ divine origin of all the sacraments except baptism and the Eucharist. (It is significant, 34' FORBIDDEN READING incidentally,, to note on the dust jacket that rMr. Johnson's education ?and background are technblogical, his occupation that of engineeri'ng, his "interest" philosophy, and his hobbies travel, music, and photo-l~ raphy.) Less crude in its presentation, and motivated perhaps by the best of misdirected intentions, is Giovanni Papini's The Devil (New York: E. P. Dutton ~ Co., 1954), originally published in Italian as II Diabolo. The heretical thesis which the author strives to estab-lish is that God's love and mercy are incompatible with an eternal hell and that we may therefore hope that eventually even Satan may achieve salvation and hell cease to exist. 2. Writings which disparage divine worship, which seek to undermine ecclesiastical discipline, or which deliber'ately and per-slstently hold up to opprobrium the ecclesiastical hie?arch~l or the, clerical or religious state. Although literature of this kind is not aimed so directly against the content of Catholic doctrine, it is not difficult to appreciate the pernicious effect it could have on the practical, faith of individuals. Divine worship in this context is not restricted to the Catholic liturgy, but includes any act by which man~ honors God in Him-self or in His saints. As in the previous category, it is not a ques-tion here of occasional disparaging remarks which may be made in passing by an author, but rather of the calculated development at some notable length of an opprobrious theme. Nor is it sufficien.t that individual clerics, religious, or members of the hierarchy be the, target of such abuse. In order to classify as prohibited reading, attack of this kind must ordinarily be leveled against those states of llfe as ecclesiastical institutions. Christ and Catholicism, mentioned just previously in another context, also amply exemplifies almost every" detail of this category of writing. The chapters on the Mass, the priesthood, the sacra-ments-- to cite only the more blatant--are intent upon establishing our liturgy as farcical pantomime and our priesthood .and hierarchy as sacrilegious usurpations of divine power and authority. 3. Those writings of non-Catholics which treat formally" of religion, unless, it be clear that they contain nothing contrary to Catholic faith. There is every good reason to ,hold suspect the religious writings of. non-Catholics,'wl~ose very segregation from the Church is ~itse.lf religious error and creates strong presumption against, the "cukacy' of ahy religious doctrine they would hold' 6r fea~h. Heh~e 3'5 JOHN J. LYNCH Reoieto t:or Religious the Church forbids us to read such literature until we have ascer-tained through some reliable source that it contains no substantial theological error. Religion must here be understood in" its widest sense as includ-ing whatever pertains to the relation of man to God. Every branch of theology, therefore, is included--dogma,, morals,~ ascetics, scrip-ture, litu'rgy, Church history, canon law, etc. Even many philosophi-cal works would fall into this category insofar as they deal either with God as an absolute entity or with rational creatures in their relationship to God, or treat of those truths and principles which constitute the rational foundations of religion. By "formal" treatment (the Code uses the term ex professo) is meant something substantially more than religious obiter dicta. Either the entire work, or a notable section of it, must .designedly express religious beliefs substantiated by logical evidence, real or alleged. The author must, in other words, be intent upon discussing a religious topic at sufficient length to establish the particular pro-position or thesis which he has in mind. Confronted with such a publication, a Catholic is forbidden to read it unless he is certain that it contains nothing of any import-ance contrary to Catholic faith. That assurance should ordinarily be sought from someone who is competent to judge such matters and who is familiar with the content of the work in question. If it should, for instance, be recommended in established Catholic papers or periodicals, one may safely assume that the permissive clause of the canon has been verified. To cite but one possible example of this type of literature, C. S. Lewis, an Anglican, has written both The Screwtape ,Letters and Beyond Personality. Both unquestionably deal formally with matters religious, and hence qualify immediately as suspect under this pro-vision of the law. (3ust a little reflection will suffice to make one realize how comprehensive this phase of the law is.) Since Catholic scholars seem to have found nothing substantially erroneous in the former, it may legitimately be read. But several theologians have pointed 6ut dangerous theological errors in Beyond Personalit~ , and hence this book may not be read ,without permission from proper authority. C. WRITINGS CONTRARY TO MORALS It should be noted at the very beginning that immorality is a term. which is not properly restricted to violations of the Sixth 36 Januar~l, 1956 FORBIDDEN READING Commandment. Impurity is but one species of immorality, a word which is intended to include also whatever else is contrary to the law of God. Therefore, when canon 1399 proscribes writings which of set purpose attack good morals, it is stating a universal prohibition against publications which would tend to weaken us in any virtue or to attract us to any vice. Later on in the same canon explicit mention is made of several species of immoral themes. But since that comparatively brief catalogue does not pretend to be ex-haustive, it is the universal principle which constitutes the ultimate norm in every case. As was true in matters of faith, so too on this question of moral-ity the prohibition is intended to affect publications which make a calculated and determined effort to discredit virtue or to justify or commend what is objectively evil. Whethe~ directly by means of formal argumentation, or indirectly by recourse to derisive tactics, this impugning of virtue or commendation of vice which is pro-scribed must be something substantially more than passing reference. To be included under this automatic prohibition, it must Constitute at least a notable part of the author's intention and literary~'effort. One such book which would seem certainly to fulfill those requirements would be Joseph F. Fletcher's Morals and Medicine (Princeton University Press, 1954), devoted almost entirely to a defense of contraception, artificial insemination, sterilization, and° euthanasia, and to an attempted refutation of Church teaching in that regard. Much of the literature of the Planned Parenthood As-sociation would likewise fall under this ban, since its avowed pur-pose is to counsel birth control as a means of limiting the size of families. Judging merely from pre-publication announcements, ad-vertisements, and reviews, The Stor~/ of Margaret Sanger by Law-rence Lader (New York: Doubleday, 1955) is likely to qualify as forbidden reading under this beading since apparently it is laudatory of the morality which she advocates. Among the immoralities which are more commonly defended or recommended in writing, and which the Code therefore sees fit to mention specifically by name, are (a) (~arious forms of super-stition such as fortunetelling, divination, black magic, spiritism, and the like; (b) dueling, suicide, and divorce; (c) Freemasonry and similar societies, if they are represented as beneficial organizations harmless to Church and state; and finally (d) obscenity, which may be defined as the deliberate presentation of sexually-exciting matter in a manner calculated to be attractive and to stimulate the sexual 37 JOHN,~J., LYNCH Review for, Religiou, s passions. It should be noted that. in every one of the ab6ve cases, and especially in the last, it is not the subject matter which merits condemnation, but the manner in which the subject is treated. '!t is the impugning of virtue and the approval of vice which consti-tute, the threat to individual, good morals. D. PUBLICATIONS LACKING ECCLESIASTICAL .APPROVAL a) Absolutd Prohibitions Canon i385 6f the Code enumerates various classes of litera-ture which Catholic authors-~even laymen--are obliged to submit for diocesan cen.s.orship and approval prior to publication. The list is quite comprehensive, but may be summed up briefly in the con-cluding words of the canon itself as including "all writings which contain anything having a notable bearing on religion or morals." Should it happen that an author fail to comply with this law and publish without approbation a type of work specified therein, it does not.necessarily follow in every case that the publication is forbidden reading for .Catholics. But there are some such works whose very lack of approval does alone suffice to forbid their being read. One such category has already been mentioned, above under "Script~ural Works" (A, 2). The remain~der comprise books and PamPhlets u;bich relate neu; apparitions, revelations, visions, prophe-cies, or miracles, or u~hich introduce novel devotions. The Church by no means denies the possibility of the miraculous even in our own day, nor is her attitude towards them one of skep-ticism~ But she knows from experience the wisdom of extreme cau-tion in these matters because of the dangers to genuine faith involved. in the excess which is credulity. Many, too,.are easily led astray by the novel and the bizarre in the matter o.f devotions. Hence the Church rightfully reserves to herself the prerogative of examining for theological flaw any innovations in this regard and is unwilling that the faithful be exposed to ~heir influence until her own scrutiny has proven them sound. The lack of an Imprimatur on books and pamphlets of this kind is an indication that they are forbidden reading. Regardless of their actual conformity or disconformity with historical and theological fact, they inay not be read unless officially approved. b) Conditioned Prohibitions This final category includes three' classes of publications which likewise ,call for ecclesiastical approval, but which, if published in 38 danuaG/, 1956 FORBIDDEN READING neglect of that requirement, are proscribed only in the e, vent that their content is at variance with Church teaching on the subject. Strictly speaking, much of this type of forbidden literature is al-r~ eady included implicitly under the prohibition of works which are dangerous to faith. But because the Code sees fit to specify, s6 too shall we. 1) . Editions of approved liturgical books in which ang alter-ations have been made. in such a wag that theft no longer agree with the authentic editions approved b~t the Hol~l See. Our liturgical books include the Roman Missal and. Breviary, with both of which the Roman Martyrology and the Roman Calendar or Ordo are closely relatedi the Roman Ritual and the Memoriale Rituum which contain the prayers and ceremonies used in the administration of the Sacra-ments and in other liturgical functions; the Roman Pontifical and the Ceremonial of Bishops, both concerned with episcopal functions only; and the Roman Ceremonial which contains exclusively pap_~l ceremonies. All new editions,of these books must conform exactly tO the authentic texts published by the Holy See, else they are pro~ hibited. 2) Works which spread a knowledge of indulgences which are spurious or which have been condemned or revoked bg the Holg See. An indulgence is termed spurious if it was never validly granted; condemned, if because of abuses it was proscribed by the Holy See; revoked, if withdrawn or abrogated for some reason after having been once granted. The best way to ascertain the authenticity of indulgences is by reference to the Encbiridion Indulgentiarum: Preces et Pia Opera, which is the official collection of .indulgenced prayers and good works. 3) Pictures, printed in ang manner whaisoever, of our Lord," the Blessed Mother~ the angels, the saints and other servants of God, . if tbeq depart From the s#irit and decrees of the Church. The reason for this precaution was expressed long ago by the Council of Trent when that synod pointed out that many of the faithful acquire and retain knowledge of the faith largely through artistic' representa-tions of its mysteries. Therefore the Council warned explicitly against all images which would be suggestive of false doctrine and occasion theological" error. Thus, for example, we are expres,sly forbidden by the Holy Office to represent our Lady in priestly vest-ments, or the Holy Spirit in human form, either with the Father and Son or separately. This preseht legislation concerns only pictures Which are ira- 39 JOHN J. LYNCH Review for Religious pressed upon paper or other material suitable for publication and does not explicitly refer to medals, statues, paintings, and the like. "Since the Code~ in this section is-cohcerned with;printed publicatio.ns, it.does not legislate here with regard to other sacred images. But by its omission it does not mean to deny that those other representa-tions of religious mysteries can also be at variance with the spirit and letter of Catholic doctrine. A previous canon (1279) covers that more generic question quite thoroughly. Perhaps this outline of Code legislation could best be concluded with a practical suggestion. A good rule to follow when in doubt about a publication of manifestly religious nature is to look for an Imprimatur or some other indication of episcopal approbation. If it is'lacking, and, if one is without permission to read forbidden matter, a prudent conscience will advise inquiry before proceeding further. II. THE INDI~X OF FORBIDDI~N BOOKS It may now be apparent how all-inclusive is canon 1399 in its specification of dangerous reading, and why therefore the Index of Forbidden Books is really of secondary importance as a guiding norm. The Index in substance is merely an alphabetical catalogue-- according to authors where possible, otherwise according to titles-- of those works which Rome has seen fit to proscribe by name. As a rule titles explicitly contained in the Indix are already implicitly condemned by virtue of Code legislation; but only a small fraction of those works to which canon 1399 would apply will be accorded express mention in the Index. It would be manifestly impossible .for the Holy See to know of the existence, to say not.hing of the detailed content, of every potentially dangerous work which is published--and equally impossible to catalogue them in manage-able form even if they could be known. Hence, the Index is reserved for those works which are of special importance, either because of their subject matter or because of circumstances of time, current trends, or ingenious approximation of error to truth. But the very great majority of writings which are correctly classified as forbidden owe their condemnation to the generic provisions of canon law alone. Placing a book on the Index is now usually a matter of underlining an already established fact. Since 1897, when under Leo XIII our modern version was first cdmpiled, the Index has gone through a number of editions, the latest in 1948. Interim condemnations are published periodically in 40 January/, 1956 FORBIDDEN READING Acta Apbstolicae Sedis, and these addenda are eventually incorpor-ated into the next subsequent Index whe.never a new edition seems feasible. Occasionally certain titles are deleted when, for example, a book for one reason or another is judged no longer to represent a serious 'universal danger. It would appear to be the present policy of the Church to restrict to a minimum the number of books explicitly condemned and to depend more and more on the general principles of canon law to guide the faithful in their recognition of forbidden matter. The 1948 Index contains 4126 entries, of which only 255 represent publications of this twentieth century. For the benefit of those who may have occasion t~ consult the Index itself, a brief explanation of some of its terminology and sym-bols may be helpful. Solemn Condemnations. Usually it is the Congregation of the Holy Office which now issues the condemnation of specific publica-tions. In exceptional cases, however, the pope himself may choose to exercise his supreme authority and proscribe a work in even more solemn manner. These papal pronouncements are rare (only 144 books in the current Index are so condemned) and are reserved for writings which are considered to be especially pernicious. In the Index books proscribed by solemn papal decree are designated by the cross or dagger (~'). The practical significance of that symbol is to remind us of the severe penalty of excommunication imposed by the Church on those who would knowingly read or retain such literature without permission. Conditioned Condemnations. The asterisk (*) which precedes other titles in the Index indicates that the work is condemned in its present form until it be corrected ("donec corrigatur"). The im-plication, therefore, is that its errors are not beyond correction and that a revised edition, if submitted to proper ecclesiastical authority, may yet merit approval. The work in its original condemned form, however, remains forbidden reading. "Opera Omnia." Since 1940 the preface of the Index contains this authentic explanation of the phrase opera omnia whereby the complete works ~)f some authors are now prohibited: "According to practice' now in force, when the complete works of a certain writer are condemned by the term topera omnia," each and every work of that author is to be understood as proscribed without exception." If an author has shown himself to be invariably at odds with faith or morals, this sweeping condemnation of all his works is employed is the surest means of protecting the unwary. 41 JOHN J. LYNC~ Review [or Religious "'Omnes Fabulae Amatoriae." This phrase is appended to the names of eleven, of the novelists listed in the Index (Stendhal, George .Sand, 'Balzac, Eugene Sue, Alexandre Dumas, St. and Jr:, Champ-fleury, Faydeau, Henry Murger, Frederic Souli~, and Gabriele O'An-nunzio). In literal English translation the expression dmerges as "all love stories," a concept which is perhaps more accurately ex-pressed by the circumlocution, "all novels which emphasize impure love.'.' In the absence of any authentic interpretation, commentators generally have attached that meaning to the term as employed in the Index. For practical purposes, the expression is intended to ban literally all the novels of the author named but allows for.the pos-sible exception of one or several which may be shown certainly not to offend against canon 1399 and which ha'~e not been forbidden by particular decree. It is, therefore, a somewhat less rigorous con-demnation tba~a is the term .opera omnia which prohibits all an author's works without qualification. Needless to say, however, it ,creates a very strong presumption against any novel which that author may have written and commands extreme caution on the part of any would-be reader. Actually the great majority of titles contained in the Index would be of very little interest to the average modern reader nor does their proscription in any notable way restrict the literary preferences of most. Usually it is only the professional scholars in a specialized field who would have either need or desire to consult them. Another popular misconception of the Church's prohibition of books is that it concerns itself chiefly, if not exclusively, with the risqu~ and the salacious. That impression, too, bespeaks almost total unfamiliarity with both Code .legislation and the Index. As a preferred list of potential best sellers, our ecclesiastical blacklist would be a colossal hoax. III. PERMISSION q~O READ CONDEMNED LITERATURE As has already been mentioned, ecclesiastical legislation against the reading of certain literature is not so absolute as to deny Catho-lics without exception all access to publications condemned by posi-tive law. The Church's prohibition in this regard is basically a pre-cautionary measure intended to restrict such reading to thdse only who in bet judgment can safely survive exposure without con-tamination. Hence she reserves to" herself, in the person' of qualified delegates, the exclusive right to judge each individual case. But she expressly provides for those circumstafices in which neces~sity or genuine utility requires the reading of condemned matter by those 42 ,lanuary, 1956 o FORBIDDEN READING whose ~olidity of faith and morals she recognizes as promising them immunity from harm.' Ordinary Permission ' .Except in the case of exempt clerical institutes, whose members may refer this matter to thei'r major superior, it is one's local ordinary alone who may grant religious, either directly or through a delegate, permission to read literature which" is otherwise forbidden. (It need scarcely be said that the Holy See could likewise grant the same per-mission.) But unless he has acquired special powers beyond tboze which the Code concedes him directly, the ordinary may give that permission only to specified individuals and for specified titles. He would not, for example, allow "all the Sister graduate students to read whatever is prescribed for their course in the history of litera-ture." Those who request permissions under this law will ordinarily find that chancery requires the names of those who want the per-mission, the titles of those works which they wish to read, and the reason which makes that reading necessary. It is usually advisable to channel requests of this nature through someone whose position and personal knowledge make it possible to testify to the reasonable-ness of the petition--a parish priest, chaplain, one's superior, or the dean or head of a department if one is enrblled in a Catholic coll'ege or university. The practice of individual chanceries may vary in this regard and Ioc~aI custom should be as&trained and observed. (A specimen petition may be found on p. 70 of What Is the Index? included ~among the suggested, readings at the end of this article.) Permission to read forbidden matter is granted with the express 'understanding that adequate precautions will be taken to prevent the literature in question from falling into the hands of others un-authorized to read it. And no permission, however broad, can ever release us from the obligation under natural law to protect our-selves from danger. None of us is confirmed in grace simply by complying with the requisites of positive law. It may happen that one's own theological background is not always sufficient to solve every difficulty alleged against our faith and to dispel all doubts which may be lodged against our religious convictions. One's first and urgent obligation in that case is to seek explanation and en-lightenment from some other who is qualified to expo.se the error behind the doubt. And it may sometimes happen that decision to abandon that type of reading will prove a prudent additional course of actioni I 43 JOHN J. LYNCH Reuieto for Reli~t'ous Extraordinary Permission There are some exceptional situations which cannot be pro-vided for adequately or ~xpeditiously with the restricted power granted by the Code to ordinaries in favor of their respective sub-jects. Professional scholars engaged in prolonged research, librarians responsible for the disposition of numerous books, editors and staff members of religious papers and periodicals, college and university professors.-~tbese and others in similar walks of life must often, in order to do their work effectively, have somewhat greater latitude in the matter of probibityd reading. To cope with circumstances such as these, bishops in this country by virtue of their quinquennial faculties, and at least some major religious superiors by virtue of special privilege, may at their prudent discretion allow certain indi-viduals greater liberty. Perhaps the briefest possible way of ex-plaining the limits of this power is to quote from the formula used by the Holy Office itself: "The faculty of granting for not more than three years permission to read or keep, with precautions, how-ever, lest they fall into the hands of other persons, forbidden books and papers, excepting works which professedly advocate heresy or schism, or which attempt to undermine the very foundations of religion, or which are professedly obscene; the permission to be granted to their own subjects individually, and only with dis:rim-ination and for-just and reasonable cause; that is, to such persons only as really need to read the said books and papers, either in order to refute them, or in the exercise of their own lawful func-tions, or in the pursuit, of a lawful course of studies." An official note appended to the above faculty further advises that it "is granted to Bishops to be exercised by them personally; hence not ¯ to be delegated to anyone; and moreover with a grave responsibility in conscience upon the Bishops as regards the real concurrence of all the above-named conditions." It should be clear without further comment that this type of general permission cannot be granted at random or automatically upon request. Admittedly there are times when ecclesiastical restrictions on reading impose a considerable inconvenience, perhaps even handicap, upon Catholic scholars. Unfortunately, that sometimes is an un-avoidable incidental by-product of Church legislation in this regard. But we simply must, recognize and respect the fact that the direct intent of these laws, formulated in obedience to Christ's own man-date to His Church, is the protection of the faithful as a whole ;.n the essentials of faith and morals. If the individual good of acom- ,lanuarg, 1956 " FORBIDDEN. READING parative few must occasionally suffer, it does so out of deference tO the greater good. -~ IV. SUGGESTED READINGS 1. Joseph M. Pernicone, The Ecclesiastical Prohibition Books, Washington, D. C.:, Catholic University of America Press, 1932. Written as a doctorate thesis when the author, presently auxiliary bishop of New York, was in. graduate studies in cation law at Catholic University, this book provides an exhaustive and most competent analysis of those canons of the Code which pertain to forbidden literature. Technical rather than popular in presen-tation, it would nevertheless serve most effectively as an occasional reference book for those who may want more minute explanation of the finer points of the law. \ 2. T.L. Bouscaren, S.J., and A. C. Ellis, S.J., Canon Law: A Text and Commentary, Milwaukee: Bruce, 1951 (ed.2), pp. 778-91. Father Bouscaren is aconsultor to the Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith; Father Ellis is a consultor to the Congregation of Religious. Both were professors of canon law at the Gregorian University, Rome. Although their excellent com-mentary is intended primarily for students of ecclesiastical juris-prudence, )eligious in general would find in the pages devoted to forbidden literature much that would help to a fuller understanding of the intricacies of this law. 3. Redmond A. Burke, C.S.V., What Is the Index?, Mil-waukee: Bruce, 1952. Whereas most literature on the subject is directed to theologians or theological students, this presentation, as interesting as it is informative, is addressed "to intelligent laity, whether Catholic or non-Catholic." The author is at present di-rector of libraries at De Paul University in Chicago. Eminently readable, the book provides in addition to the standard treatment of the subject several convenient and instructive appendixes. Samples: better known authors of forbidden works grouped according to subject matter; a complete list of the books written by the eleven novelists condemned with the term omnes fabulae amatoriae; for-bidden titles from the English literature; applications of tfiis law to the readings recommended by the Great Books Program. Father Burke's book would be a highly useful addition to the library of any religious house. .4. Edwin F. Healy, S.J., Moral Guidance, Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1942; ch. XIII, pp. 276-85. Previously profes.- FOR YOUR INFORMATION Review [or Religious sot of moral theology at West Baden College, Father Healy now lectures on the same subject at the Gregorian University in Rome. His college texts in moral theology, of which this is but one, are familiar to many who.have taken or taught such a course in recent years. The chapter devoted to forbidden books is presented, of course, in textbook style and provides a conveni'ent outline of the law's main content together with the most practical of its applica-tions. The corresponding section in the companion volume, Teacher's Manual For Moral Guidance, gives further insight into the purpose of this legislation and provides telling answers to several objections commonly leveled against the ecclesiastical prohibition of books. 5. Malachi J. Donnelly, S.J., "Church Law and Non-Cath-olic Books" in American Ecclesiastical Review, 114 (1"946), pp. 403-9. Although this article is restricted to but one category of forbidden literature, viz., the religious writings of non-Catholics, its practical value is perhaps thereby enhanced. Religion has become a most popular topic even among non-Catholic authors, and there are numerous books of this kind on the market which win almost universal applause for their sincere and perhaps novel approach to spiritual problems. It may be an fiye-opening experience for some to see how Father Donnelly applies canon 1399 to one such book, Be~/ond Personality/ by C. S. Lewis, and demonstrates the caution we must exercise at times when selecting even our spiritual reading. For Your Int:ormation Concernincj Summer Sessions We are happy to be of service to ~eligious by publishing in our March :and May numbers announcements of summer-session courses that are of special interest or value to religious. We are willing to do this for any summer-session directors who] send us the proper information. But it seems to be asking too much "merely to send us a summer-session bulletin and to leave to us the work of select-ing the courses to be announced. Deans who ~vish us to publish an announcement should compose it themsel'ves. The announcement should contain only brief references to the spedat courses for re-ligious, and all the information should be in one paragraph. The material should be. typed double- or (preferably) triple-spaced. 46 January, 1956 FOR YOUR INFORMATION Moreover, it would be helpful if.~opitalization, punctuation, and other mechanics were in conformity with the rules given in our "Notes for Contributors," as published in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XIV (March, ,July),- 104 ff., 194 ff. Our Addresses It will help ve.ry much if those who write to us will note the following addresses : 1. Business correspondence should be sefit to: The Coliege Press, 606 Harrison, Topeka, Kansas. 2. Books for review should be sent to: The Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 3. Questions on canon law and liturgy should be addressed to: The Reverend Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., Woodstock College, Wood-stock, Maryland. 4. Other questions and editorial correspondence should be ad-dressed to: The Editors, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, St. Mary's Col-lege, St. Marys, Kansas. New Holy Week Rubrics Of interest to many of our readers is the appearance in the "win-ter issue of Theology Digest (Vol. IV, No. 1) of a concise summary of the new Holy Week order to be observed in the celebration of the sacred ceremonies and the recitation of the Divine Office. Ad-dress: Theology Digest, 1015 Central, Kansas City 5, Missouri. $2.00 per year; foreign, $2.25. Breviary Changes A decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, dated March 23, 1955, made some radical changes in the rubrics for celebrating Mass and reciting the Divine Office. A pamphlet entitled Otffcial Changes in the Breviary, by T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., gives the back-ground of the decree, an English translation of the parts that concern the recitation of the'Breviary, and a brief commentary on these parts. The material concernirig the new rubrics for Holy Week, which was contained in the decree of November 15, 1955, i;, not included in the pamphlet. The price of the pamphlet is ten cents. It is pub-lished by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. (Material for this department should be sent to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.) THE HISTORY OF ISRAEL. Vol I and Vol. II, By Giuseppe Ri¢c~otti. "Translated by Clement della Penta, O.P., and Richard A. Murphy, O.P. Pp. 430 and 476. The Bruce Publishing Co., Milwaukee I. 1955. ~ $15.00 the set. For those Who have enjoyed Ricciotti's Life of Christ in Eng-lish, a similar treat awaits them in the new translation of his two-volume History of Israel. Detailing the dramatic story of God's chosen people from the call of Abraham to the final catastrophe at Jerusalem in 130 A.D., the author gives rich background and a vivid i~resentation of the trials and triumphs of Israel. The Do-. minican translator~ have captured Ricciotti's pleasant style, pre'- senting an engaging history which has already seen four Italian editions and four European translations. In his preface Father Murphy points out that the book "fills a lamentable gap in the field of Catholic,scriptural literature in Eng-lish." One plies library shelves in vain to find so adequate a Cath-olic treatment of Israelite history within a single work. With Ricciotti's training in oriental languages, his years lived in the Holy ¯ Land, and his wide acquaintance with non-Catholic literature, his history is more than "just another book." It does not seek merely to' answer non-Catholic objections, but to present a positive, clear exposition of the Catholic approach to complex Biblical questions. Ricciotti's appreciation of recent discoveries of historians and arche-ologists is evident in a lengthy chapter concern_ing late excavations and surveys, evidence from which he faithfully evaluates and as-similates into his work. The translators supplement this section of his book with findings of the past two years at Qumram and Murabba'at, and they have changed some dates to conform better with the new evidence. Ricciotti's explicit intent is to write history. He avoids long discussions of critical theories. Cautious, especially in the face of recent discoveries in Palestine, he presents his readers with facts and leaves to them the formation of personal' judgments. His one thrust at modern criticism is~to point out that "any critical history must take into account the basic outlines of history as they are sketched in the Bible." The Bible is a historical source par excellence. At-tempts to discredit it on arguments drawn from philology an;:l liter- 48 BOOK REVIEWS' ary criticism are based on false philosophic presfippositions.The fundamental supposition of "impossibility" of Israelite tradition' 'by Wellhausen and others is being shaken and weakened by the spade of the archaeologist. Recent discoveries tend to confirm the tradi- 'tional position, both as to events and their chronology. Where the Bible and other sources are mute, as, for instance~ during the period of Greek domination and after the Romafi seizure of Jerusalem in 70 A.D., Ricciotti reconstructs Jewish h~istory and attempts to fill in, the silent pages of Israel's tragic story. In his role of historian he maintains a steady progression. Any pause, such as to explain prophetism or the importance of an archaeological discovery, is only to enrich the reader's background for a deeper ap-preciation of the history at hand. Because references in the original are principally to German and French sources, the editor thought it "unnecessary to burden Eng-lish- speaking readers with a bibliography" in the English edition. Some may regret this lack, even though the footnotes in the text are more than sufficient, to indicate the author's wealth of source material. The scholar will find this History a helpful reference. It presents a readable and engrossing story for those wishing to learn more of Israelite history and serves as excellent background for an intelligent reading of the Bible.--ROBERT C. DRESSMAN, S.J. THE LIFE OF ST. DOMINIC SAVI'O. By Sf. John Bosco. Transla'red by: Paul Aronica, S.D~B. Pp. 112. Salesiana Publishers, Pafferson New Jersey. 1955. $2.75. In 1857, Dominic Savio, after spending two and a half years under the guidance of St. John Bosco at the Oratory of St. Francis of Sales in Turin, died at the age of fifteen. Two years later, Don Bosco wrote an account of the life of this youth whose sanctity he held in high esteem. Short and unpretentious, this biography was published largely with a view to the spiritual profit of youthful readers. Translated from the fifth Italian edition, The Life of St. Dom-inic Savio has been prepared for American boys,, their parents and teachers. Hence the translator has added to the original text some background on the ,biography itself, a biographical sketch df St. John Bosco, and two appendices. After the author's preface and after seventeen of the twenty-six chapters, all of them 'brief, the translato~ has inserted notes gathered' from the latest .Italian edition of ii}he, work. 49 BOOK REVIi~WS Review [or Religious In the opening chapters, Don Bosco sketches Dominic's life prior to his arrival at the Oratory late in" 1854. Abandoning chron-ological order, he then proceeds to treat of Dominic's stay at the Oratory in topical fashion. Thus he sets forth the boy's deter-mination to avoid sin, his constant efforts' to strive for sanctity, his spiritual practices, his attitude toward studies, his friendships and relations with his associates, his special graces. The final chapters resume chronological sequence in telling of Dominic's final sick-ness and death. In many ways this is an admirable little book. In its small compass we are given the picture of a young saint sharply and sym-pathetically drawn by another saint, a much older and more experi-enced man. The boy's high ideals, his cheerfulness, and general likeableness, so much in evidence throughout, constitute a most appealing element. The attractive biographical sketch of Don Bosco himself sets the stage, as it were, for Dominic's days at the Oratory and puts the reader in a better position to grasp the relation of Don Bosco to his subject matter. One, however, may be inclined to question the complete suitability of the book for today's American boy. For at times, the viewpoint of the author, both because of time and mentality, discernibly differs from that calculated to be easily and properly understood by the modern American.boy. The notes occasionally rectify this matter. On the other hand, the notes them-selves do introduce a comment on Dominic's m(~desty which the average American boy might find difficult to grasp (p. 55). Fur-thermore, there are several passages of St. John's text which seem to call for notes to clarify theological implications contained therein. For example, his reflections on the force of a good First Communion' on a person's life appear to be a somewhat sweeping generalization which might be difficult to substantiate and need, at least, to be set against a proper historical background (p. 8). Again, Dominic's remarks on merit require distinctions (p. 78). The language of the book runs along simply and smoothly for the most part. One, however, does encounter an occasional awk-~ wardly turned phrase as well as several lapses of grammar and Eng-lish idiom. In place of the illustrations taken from the fifth Italian edition, more modern drawings would perhaps be more effective in catching the eye of young people. While this book, then, has many good points to recommend it,- it is not without its drawbacks, especially for young readers. ~EDMUND F. MILLER, S.J. 50 ,lanuary, 1956 BOOK REVIEWS DAYS OF JOY. By William S÷ephenson, S.J. Pp. 176. The Newman Press, Westmins÷er,Maryland. 19SS. $2.S0. In his preface the author tells us that it is his purpose "to set forth as fully and plainly as possible the meaning of this [the Easter] message ." This is indeed no small task, and yet he succeeds admirably. A full understanding of the meaning of Easter and 'the cause of our joy in it demands a mature faith and an understanding en-riched and deepened by all that the Church can tell us about it. It is no small merit of this work that the author makes free use of the wealth that Holy Church has found for us in this mystery. A step-by- step account of the sacred history from Easter to Pentecost is ac-companied by explanations of dogmatic truths, prayers from the Mass and hymns from the breviary, quotations from devotional writers and instructions in prayer. Theresult is not a heavy treatise, but a book which is devotional and inspiring with its piety deeply rooted in dogmatic theology and the" liturgy. Each stage of events in the story of the Resurrection is treated in this way. First there is an account of the event, e.g., the meeting of our Lord and Mary Magdalen; then there is a series of reflections on the mystery in,which the author explains the truths it shows and their meaning for us. The reflections are concluded with a col-loquy in which some liturgical prayer, hymn from the breviary, or devotional poem is read prayerfully. Along with the text, some-times in the form of notes, are explanations of liturgical practices, the account of the beginning of a devotion or suggestions on methods of prayer drawn from the Exercises oF St. Ignatius. With justice the book is subtitled Thoughts for All Times, because the author's handling of his subject relates this central truth of our faith to other truths and to our daily needs. The com-bination of the gospel narrative and the light thrown on it by theology and the warmth of the liturgy is a happy one. Finally, the method of prayer woven into this pattern gives these sublime thoughts and truths a personal and particular meaning. Thus, the

Helen Horne Far, June 5, 2014 ; The Weber State College Oral History Program was created in the early 1970s to "record and document, through personal reminiscences, the history, growth and development of Weber State College." Through interviews with administrators, faculty and students, the program's goal was to expand the documentary holdings on Weber State College and its predecessor entities. From 1970 to 1976, the program conducted some fifteen interviews, under the direction of, and generally conducted by Harold C. Bateman, an emeritus professor of history. In 1979, under the direction of archivist John Sillito, the program was reestablished and six interviews were conducted between 1979 and 1983, with additional interviews being conducted by members of the Weber State community. In 2013 the campus prepared to celebrate the 125th Anniversary of Weber State University in 2014. In order to document the student experience, interviews were conducted with Weber State College Alumni on an ongoing basis. ; The following is an oral history interview with Dr. Helen Horne Farr. It was conducted on June 5, 2014 by Jamie Weeks. In the interview, Helen discusses her time spent at Weber College as a student from 1941 to 1943 and then as an instructor in the nursing program from 1959 to 1987. ; 28p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 videodisc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Helen Horne Farr Interviewed by Jamie J. Weeks 5 June 2014 i Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Helen Horne Farr Interviewed by Jamie J. Weeks 5 June 2014 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library ii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in University Archives. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber State College Oral History Program was created in the early 1970s to "record and document, through personal reminiscences, the history, growth and development of Weber State College." Through interviews with administrators, faculty and students, the program's goal was to expand the documentary holdings on Weber State College and its predecessor entities. From 1970 to 1976, the program conducted some fifteen interviews, under the direction of, and generally conducted by Harold C. Bateman, an emeritus professor of history. In 1979, under the direction of archivist John Sillito, the program was reestablished and six interviews were conducted between 1979 and 1983, with additional interviews being conducted by members of the Weber State community. In 2013 the campus prepared to celebrate the 125th Anniversary of Weber State University in 2014. In order to document the student experience, interviews were conducted with Weber State College Alumni on an ongoing basis. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Farr, Helen Horne, an oral history by Jamie J. Weeks, 5 June 2014, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Helen Horne Farr June 5, 2014 Abstract: The following is an oral history interview with Dr. Helen Horne Farr. It was conducted on June 5, 2014 by Jamie Weeks. In the interview, Helen discusses her time spent at Weber College as a student from 1941 to 1943 and then as an instructor in the nursing program from 1959 to 1987. JW: This is an oral history interview with Dr. Helen Horne Farr. It is being conducted on June 5, 2014 in her home in Ogden, Utah and the interviewer is Jamie Weeks. The subject of this interview is her time spent at Weber State College as a student from 1941 to 1943 and then as an instructor in the nursing program from 1959 to 1987. Also present is Stacie Gallagher our video technician. To begin with I'd like to ask you just about your early family life-when and where you were born and maybe a little background about your childhood. HF: I was born in my grandparent's home in Smithfield, Utah on August 12, 1923. My parents had another girl who was 21 months old when I was born. During my birth, mother hemorrhaged. The doctor was afraid that she would die and said that I was too little and wouldn't live anyway. He put me aside and took care of mother. My grandmother wisely picked me up, cleaned me and put me in a flannel lined shoebox in a coal stove oven and saved my life. I stayed in that shoebox for about six weeks and bonded very closely with my grandmother because of that. JW: Were you tiny? 1 HF: Yes. They said they measured me with two pounds of butter and that's how much they thought I weighed, but you know, farmers didn't know how much the butter really weighed, but I was a very tiny baby. Grandmother Toolson was wise enough to know to use an eyedropper to feed me. That's how I survived. JW: Oh my word, what a wonderful story. HF: Isn't that something that many years ago? 1923, that's almost a century ago. JW: Right. HF: My father was the principal of Burley High School. They had to leave for him to start school in September, so they left me with my grandparents until Christmas time. My father had an opportunity to coach at Midvale Junior High School, so we moved to Midvale. During the depression when I was in the 5th grade, the Jordon School District ran out of money early in the spring. We returned to Smithfield and stayed with my grandparents. Elaine and I enrolled in school there. I enjoyed the classes and meeting new friends. Then my father had the opportunity to move to Ogden to teach math and coach at Washington Jr. High School. That was about two days before my twelfth birthday. I'll never forget that birthday because we were very poor. It took all our money for us to move. For my breakfast that morning there was a grapefruit on the plate and my dad kept saying, "Why don't you pick up that plate, there's something wrong with it." I didn't know why he wanted me to do that, but when I picked it up there was a whole dollar bill. I thought I was the richest girl in the world. So, that was a birthday that I'll always remember. 2 Elaine and I enrolled at Lewis Junior High School. At Christmas time, the principal met with my parents to suggest that my sister and I could skip a grade. My parents decided against us moving up a grade. They bought a home at 3297 Adams Ave. and Elaine and I transferred to Washington Junior High School. I served as student body vice president in the 10th grade. We were the fourth class to graduate from the beautiful new "Million Dollar" Ogden High School. The student body was over 1500 junior and senior students. I was a member of the Student Council and the Pep Club. Those were two special years. We had a great time at Ogden High and I thought that was the best school in the world. From there I went on to Weber Junior College located at 25th and Jefferson Ave. JW: So you started with Weber in— HF: The fall of 1941 (Appendix A). JW: The reason I'm asking that is because we're missing yearbooks from 1943 to 1946, so I just wondered what happened. HF: I really don't know—World War II may have made supplies unavailable. In 1941 when we enrolled, Weber was a wonderful school. I don't know whether people have told you how that campus was organized, but it had just three buildings-the beautiful Moench Building, the Gym Building and one classroom building. West of that was President Dixon's home where his family lived. The Moench Building was just a beautiful building; it had a huge auditorium in it. We had all of our assemblies there. This is something that probably will never happen again, but every Tuesday we had an assembly at eleven 3 o'clock. The student body was filled with talent. The girls' and boys' clubs took turns presenting the programs. We enjoyed all of the singing, dancing and plays. We closed the assembly by singing "Purple and White" with J. Clair Anderson at the organ. I know "Purple and White" perfectly, and now very few students, graduates and faculty can sing this song. The student body was mostly Ogden High graduates, with some Davis County and Box Elder graduates. We had two or three men that came from Hawaii to be on the football team, but they didn't stay. They just kind of moved in and out. We had a wonderful student body, and became very close friends. It wasn't a very big student body. I don't know how many there were, but it couldn't be too large because our class sizes were only about fifteen or twenty in a room. Those first two years, Dr. Dixon was just so nice to us. It's like he said, "We were just the Weber Family". He knew most of us by name. JW: It was such a different time than it is now with so many clubs, sororities and fraternities, and they were all very active. HF: Oh yes, and very competitive. I don't know how it was after I'd left, I guess it was pretty much the same, but La Dianaeda and Otyokwa were always trying to compete and so were Phoenix and Excelsior. It was just a different type of student body than there is now. JW: You knew everyone attending the school? 4 HF: I practically knew everybody. That freshman year I was elected Freshman Representative for the Associated Women Students. I also joined La Dianaeda, which was a social club, and the Whip Club (Appendix B). We had a good time. We really enjoyed that wonderful first year. During that year, in December 1941, Pearl Harbor happened. That didn't change too much of our lifestyle, we all felt badly about it, but we all were in school and nothing really seemed to change with us. The boys just stayed in school. Then the next year I was elected President of Associated Women Students and the boys stayed enrolled. However, in April of that year, a month before graduation, most of them were drafted except about five boys who had health problems then. That was a very sad time. We put flags on all the boys' lockers the next day. That night they all had to go on the train to wherever they had to go, so we all went down to the train station to tell them goodbye. JW: It would be so life changing, to have all the boys leave at the same time. HF: When we graduated it was just those few boys and all of us girls. JW: Wow, so this was April of 1943 when they were all drafted? HF: Yes. HF: Those were all good friends. The Dixon family was very supportive and at that time we were all the "Weber Family." President Dixon always said, "The Weber Family will be doing this, the Weber Family will be doing that." He was just a good leader for us. Most of us didn't have much money. We had Shoeless Shuffle dances when we couldn't get shoes during the war. We just had a lot of fun. It was great. At the end of fall quarter in 5 1943, a friend of mine, Marjorie McKee, and I thought about becoming nurses. We went to the Thomas D. Dee Memorial Hospital to inquire about it and submitted an application. Both of us were admitted to the school nursing for the winter quarter. That spring during our final assembly, I received a leadership award and a scholarship for nursing from the Alpha Chi Omega sorority. So that really did help my family. JW: In the Signpost it says you were also on the honor roll. You must have been a good student too (Appendix C). HF: I have to say that I had to be for my dad. Since he was in education and he was very well-liked and respected in Ogden. If I'd done anything wrong it would have been terrible for him. I was very close to him, so I just was miss goody-two-shoes. JW: How many siblings did you have? HF: Just the one sister, Elaine, who was older than I. Those were fun days at Weber, they really were. JW: Who were some of your favorite professors? HF: I remember Lydia Tanner taught cooking. She could make a pound of hamburger in a great big pot that would serve the whole student body. I never saw a pound of hamburger go so far. We, as students, had to make that soup, but she'd tell us how to chop things up and season the food. She was a wonderful instructor. One of the things that I remember is that you could never leave anything in the sink. If you have a utensil that you used, you washed it and dried it and put it away. 6 Besides her, I had Sheldon Hayes for Biology and Walter Neville for Sociology. There was Marian Read who taught English, Ernest Miner taught science. Other faculty were Thatcher Allred—speech and drama, Roland Perry—music and Whitney Young— science. Reed Swenson and Merlin Stevenson were coaches. Clarisse Hall was the registrar at that time, and the next year she became the Dean of Students. Did I tell you Leland Monson taught Shakespeare? JW: No, but I do know who he was. HF: He was wonderful. We really had a wonderful faculty. I just don't know how we could have been so lucky to have such a good teachers, but we did. We all liked our teachers, we didn't skip classes, we stayed in class and I think everybody who was there our second year graduated. JW: That is a big accomplishment; to keep all of the students in school and have them all obtain a degree. HF: Our tuition was practically nothing and I remember people saying a few years before that they would bring produce from their garden and eggs for tuition. JW: Yes, they paid in-kind with eggs, produce, and livestock. HF: We paid, but it wasn't very much, I know. My whole expenses going to Weber the entire two years plus the few classes we had in nursing while we were still at Weber were less than $300.00 dollars. Now you can't even go one quarter for that amount. JW: No, you cannot. 7 HF: We had a wonderful student body though. They were just really, really nice people. JW: You graduated and then you were admitted into the Dee School of Nursing? HF: When we applied they immediately admitted us for winter quarter. At that time, The School of Nursing had classes two times a year - a January class and a June class. We went right into the January class, but we were allowed to stay home. We took the science classes that were required in nursing at Weber and other required courses. We lived at home for the two quarters and graduated from Weber in 1943 (Appendix D). JW: From there did you move to the Dee School? HF: Yes, then we had to move to the Dee School of Nursing on 24th and Harrison there. HF: The Dee student body president always had the top north room. First year students lived on the basement floor. On the main floor were the second year students and on the third floor were the seniors. JW: How long did it take you to go through the nursing program? HF: Three years. The total cost was $199.50 for tuition, books and uniforms. JW: So, you went through the nursing program and then did you immediately start working at the Dee Hospital? HF: No, I didn't. When I finished nursing school in 1946, I wanted to continue college and earn a BS degree. I inquired at the University of Utah and learned my credits from Weber were transferrable. I needed twenty-two more credit hours to graduate. I couldn't 8 enroll in the University of Utah that winter quarter because it was too late by the time we had graduated from nursing school. We were so afraid of state boards and we studied every day prior to spring quarter when I attended at the U of U. I don't know how they let me do this because I don't think most universities would do that now, but I was permitted to take twenty-two credit hours. That was a lot—fifteen hours was usually the regular number of hours per quarter. So, I did that and graduated from the University. I was elected into Phi Kappa Phi and graduated with honors. I really enjoyed the University that spring quarter, but I didn't get much opportunity to meet very many other students. I took an astronomy class because that was one of the sciences I needed. I sat by a bunch of celestial navigators who had just been discharged from the war. They probably knew a lot more about it than our instructor did. They coached me. I never could have passed that class if they hadn't helped me. That was a nice class, I can still remember that. I also took creative writing, home decorating and an abnormal psychology class. JW: At the University of Utah? HF: Yes. JW: Where did you get your bachelor's degree from? HF: I got my bachelor's degree in education in the spring of 1946 from the University of Utah and then I became the night supervisor at the Dee Hospital. That was my first job. My land, I was supervising people whom I had lived with in the nursing school for all those 9 years. But it was a nice experience. I didn't like night duty and soon became the Head Nurse on the Pediatric Unit. I was living with a family near the hospital when I met my husband who came to take some pictures of the family and their new baby. He had just been discharged from the Navy. When he was taking pictures, I remember I was baking some cookies and the cookies burned. It was an awful smell, but he said, "Well, they're just chocolate now." I can't remember what they were. My roommate was a former classmate in nursing school. The next day he called Max and said, "I'd like to have a date with that little blonde." Well, Max thought it was Louise because she was blonde also. So, Louise and I went down and we bought a pretty dress for her and some shoes. That's when you wore hats and gloves. She was all dolled up when he came pick her up. He had a big bouquet of flowers and a box of candy for her before they went out. The next morning she said, "That was the craziest date; all he wanted to do was talk about you." I said, "He just needed to have something to talk about." The next day he called Max and said, "You gave me the wrong girl." So then, Max said, 'Well, Helen's not dating until her boyfriend gets home." Max told him I had this ring that I needed to give back but that didn't deter my husband one bit. I returned the engagement ring and dated several boys including my husband. He kept coming when we were trying to study for state boards, I wanted to crown him. I didn't think that much about him at first. Then, I guess he wore me down. We took state boards in the early summer and passed. My husband and I both liked football and that following Thanksgiving we went to a football game at the U of U. He showed me a 10 diamond ring. It was way too—just too gaudy. I didn't want it, I just wanted something simple. So, I said, "I don't want to get married. I want to be an airline stewardess." That was my whole plan was to be an airline stewardess. JW: Instead of nursing? HF: You had to be an RN to be a stewardess at that time. At Christmas time he took me down to the airport to apply to be a stewardess. I found out that after the war they only wanted tall stewardesses and I wasn't tall enough for the larger planes. That Christmas, my husband gave me a silk pant set and some nylon stockings, which you could never get during the war, and a beautiful poinsettia. It was the tallest poinsettia I've ever seen. My folks had moved out to North Ogden then and he wanted me to look at this poinsettia and I was just getting tired of it by the afternoon. I said, "Let's go visit Helen and Max and some other people." "Oh, just look at that poinsettia." I just thought, "I don't want to see that poinsettia one more minute." I finally stood up and then looked down and there was my diamond ring on the branch of that tree. So, I thought, I really do love you. Then I took the ring. We were married the next year in 1947. My husband did crazy things like that. One Christmas he put a watch on a gold ornament and I didn't see it until I was taking the tree down. He was always doing things like that. JW: It sounds like he was very romantic. HF: Oh, he liked to make surprises. He really did. Anyway, then we were married and I didn't work for a while because I had my five children in eight years. So, I was a busy mother. 11 JW: Yes you were. How many grandkids do you have? HF: Oh goodness. I have fourteen grandchildren and fourteen great-grandchildren. JW: And five children keep you very, very busy, right? HF: Our first four children are boys; Paul, Craig, Brent and Randall. Carol, our daughter, was the fifth. They all had chores, not always completed, and an Indian girl from the Intermountain Indian School in Brigham City helped me each Saturday. I spent Sundays using the Ironrite all afternoon. I had little time for myself. I am very proud that all of our children are college graduates. Two earned doctorate degrees. Paul became an attorney and Craig is a board certified toxicologist. Brent is an industrial engineer with Master's degree in Business Administration and Randall earned his degree in Political Science. Carol, a single mother, returned to Weber, graduated in nursing and earned a BS degree. JW: Let's go back. You stayed home with five children and then when did you decide to go back to work? HF: I went back to work as a part time supervisor at the Dee Hospital. In 1953 Ruth Stewart (now Swenson) called and asked me if I would be willing to teach in the new nursing program at Weber. I told her that I had three small children and was too busy. The next spring, I did some special duty nursing. We could pick and choose the days we were able to work. I did that for a while and then St. Benedict's Hospital started their three-year nursing program and they had a nursery for the nurses' children. I taught there from 1956 until 1958. 12 Leola Davidson happened to see me during the summer of 1959 and she said, "Why don't you come to Weber to teach?" So, I guess she told Ruth Swenson. Ruth called me and asked if I would be willing to come here and teach. That was in 1959 when I started at Weber. Geraldine Hansen, a recent graduate of the Weber associate degree nursing program, had earned a BS degree from the U of U and was also hired. By that time, Weber College had moved to the new campus on Harrison Blvd. There were three small, one story buildings and a Quonset hut. Administration and registration were in building I; the printing department; social sciences and English were in building II; and Natural Science and nursing were in building III. The Quonset hut was known as the TUB, temporary Union Building. The nursing program was initiated when Ruth Swenson was a friend of Mildred Montag while attending Columbia University. In 1951, Mildred was in a doctoral program and chose as her thesis hypothesis that "It might be possible to educate students in a junior or community college to perform those functions commonly associated with the registered nurse". Weber Junior college was one of seven schools west of the Mississippi chosen to offer the two year nursing program. Ruth Swenson was appointed director. She and Marjorie Somers developed the program. In 1953, thirty-six women enrolled. They all passed state boards, as have most of the students throughout the years. JW: I read that you were the fourth woman to be hired as faculty at Weber State. HF: That's true. Loy Doss, LaPrele Neville and Leola Davidson were on the faculty. In the early 1960's, the Licensed Practical Nurse (LPN) program of thirty students merged with the Associate Degree program of sixty students. This made a total of ninety freshmen 13 students. Each year there were over 700 applicants. We felt we had the best students on campus. They were all high achievers. This required additional faculty. Karen Beaver, Sonia Parker, Norma Hansen, Ruth Brown and Arlene Stein and several clinical faculty were hired. I loved the students and looked forward toward each fall to greeting and orienting them into the nursing program. About ten years after the two year program began I went to a National Nurses Association conference in San Francisco. This was in the mid-sixties. I think there were three delegates from Utah. You had so many delegates for how the membership was in that state. Anyway, it was a large group of women and I don't remember any men being there. We didn't have very many male students. The whole week was almost all dedicated to "what are we going to do with these associate degree nurses who are passing state boards". Here we had three hard years of hospital school nursing and four years in the collegiate program, now these two year graduates think they can do anything. The Weber students were actually called the "Weber Wonders" when they first started. The delegates discussed what they could do and what they couldn't do and they even said, "You're a 'Weber Wonder'," to them when they first graduated. So it was a different world then. It's amazing, during that convention, the whole time was spent on trying to figure you how we could resolve this. They finally voted and passed a resolution to the National League of Nursing to write a separate test for these associate degree nursing graduates. They believed the two year nurses could be technical nurses or associate degree nurses or some other label, but they should not be RN's because 14 they just didn't have enough education or nursing experience. Well, they proposed that to the League of Nursing and the League was so busy trying to accredit new schools of nursing that they never did write another test. So it went on for a few years and that was it. The two year program stayed and they're doing well. Now Weber has branched out to all these different campuses. It's wonderful what they've done. In 1969, Ruth Swenson passed away. I was always sorry that she was never promoted to Full Professor. Leola Davidson became the department chair. She was childless and able to devote a great deal of time to nursing. She also assisted the part time Dean, Reed Stringham, a dentist who was on campus three days a week. The last day of Spring quarter 1972, Leola announced Gerry Hansen would be her assistant and assume the role of department chair. JW: Interesting. HF: I can remember that whole week there was so much bitterness and so much animosity. I'm glad that it worked out like it did because we do have some very good nurses that graduated from our program. They've become leaders in nursing and done well. JW: The school newspaper states, "Making her the first instructor in the nursing program and the fourth woman on campus to be named a professor." HF: Yes. That's right. I was the fourth woman on campus to ever be named professor. Isn't that amazing? I didn't realize that at the time how amazing that was because it was difficult to get promoted since we didn't have a nursing doctoral program. In 1977 less than 1% of nurses in the country had earned doctorates in other fields. If you had a 15 master's degree you thought you had really done well. Most of the nurses were diploma graduates from the hospitals. Those of us with a BS degree thought we were sitting pretty good. We found out, when we became college faculty, advanced degrees were very necessary. Committees had very tight criteria for tenure and promotion. You had to have those degrees before you could be advanced. I was very lucky to get that professorship. It's probably because I was very active on campus with other committees and had excellent student evaluations. I didn't receive my doctorate degree until after I was made a full professor. JW: I'm just trying to get the timeline right. You came to work at Weber and started as an instructor in 1959 and then in 1969 you received your master's degree. Were you working in Ogden and driving down to the University of Utah in Salt Lake? HF: Yes, I was working full-time in Ogden with five children. JW: This is what I couldn't believe because I kept thinking, "She's working and trying to get another degree and has this large family." HF: I enrolled in night school. After one quarter in graduate school, one of the professors, Dr. Cecil Samuelson, offered me a stipend in rehabilitation, which I really appreciated. I had some wonderful professors; I just can't tell you how excellent they were and I got through it somehow. I received my MS degree in 1969 and was promoted to Professor in 1977. During those years, I was very active in the Utah Nurses Association and held every office in District #2. There were about 1800 members in the state association and it was a total surprise to be nominated as Utah Nurse of the Year in 1976. One of the 16 other nominees was Dean of the School of Nursing at the University of Utah and had a doctoral degree. When I received the award, I was overwhelmed. JW: Let's talk about that really quickly and then we will go back. In 1976, you then started a doctorate program at BYU? HF: There were six of us. Leola Davidson, Ruth Brown, Karen Beaver, Geri Hanson and I were from Weber and Jean Law was from McKay Dee Hospital. There were six of us that were selected. We carpooled every day all the way to Provo and then in the summer we had to be on campus, so my husband and I went down and found two apartments and we thought three in each apartment would be fine. Leola Davison, Ruth Brown and I shared an apartment. You know that doctoral program was fun. Well, let me tell you what, Leola smoked all the time. Of course BYU has very strict religious rules. This doctoral program was started in 1976 with seventy-six people in the program from Idaho, Colorado, California and Utah. One time, the BYU president, Dallin H. Oaks, called us all into a meeting and said, "We have heard that several of you are having cocktails before dinner. If you choose to do this, you'll have to leave the University. You have to abide by the rules." Well, Leola was smoking like a trooper and I'd bring my clothes home and my husband would smell my clothes and he'd say, "These just reek of smoke." I'd say, "I can't help it," she just smoked one cigarette after another when we were studying, but we never got caught. One day though, we were having some finals and testing and we felt we've got to have some coffee to keep ourselves alert and awake, so we all took this little 17 thermos of coffee with us, but we never could find a spot where we could drink it. So, we brought the coffee home. JW: Because you couldn't have coffee on campus. HF: No coffee, no liquor. The liquor didn't bother any of us. Some class members from California left the program. I don't know how many. With that many people you don't count how many are still in your class. There were some who just could not leave that alone. JW: Interesting. Let's go back and talk about your time at Weber. From everything I've read, you made some huge changes for women on campus. HF: That's the one thing I'm really proud of. JW: I'm so proud of you, because I've worked my whole life and it's a struggle even now. You always have to fight for equality. HF: In the spring of 1972, Dr. Helmut Hoffman was the Academic Vice President. He called the female faculty to a meeting and explained there was a wave of unrest across the country of faculty women realizing that they had the same education, the same experience, the same time at the institution as their male counterparts and were making much less money. So, he encouraged us to organize and try to get this solved on our campus. I wasn't aware of any salary discrepancies because the Nursing Department had all women faculty. 18 A commission was formed and I was elected chairman. Inge Adams, from the Foreign Language department and Bonnie Fitzgerald from the library were elected committee members. I drafted a constitution for the Commission of the Status of Women at Weber State College and shared it with the deans and members of the faculty senate. The three of us didn't know what to do. I said, "I don't know how to start this, I have no idea." So, it took us about a year to get our thoughts together. We finally drafted a sheet on each faculty member with these criteria: education (institution, years attended and degrees), teaching experience (years at other institutions and years at Weber), evaluations (if available) and current salary. Representatives from Weber, U of U, USU and BYU met monthly to share information. I served as state chairman in 1974. We kind of frightened the deans, though I don't know how we could; we didn't look that scary to me. We started with a list of the female faculty members and who their male counterparts might be. We'd see how much the male counterpart earned and how much this person earned and then we compared their credentials against the evaluation criteria. If the criteria matched, we realized where the women faculty member's salary should be set. It was not only the women that were given the equalization, but also, we helped some men too. We also had some new faculty members coming in that were not being given the salaries that they should have received (Appendix E). Eventually, we knew all faculty salaries. It took a long time and I'd get home sometimes so tired because I was still teaching full-time and trying to do this. It was very nerve wracking because those deans were—they thought they were God. I went to the 19 legislature twice to appeal for money to equalize salaries. By 1975, we finally completed the equalization. After all this work that I did, Dr. Jerry Storey, the Academic Vice President, gave me a third time off in 1975 to remain Chairman. I had a third time off, but I had so many other duties that I never could take that time off. It was ironic, but I never ever could. I was on a lot of school committees. I served on the tenure committee and I was very active on the whole campus. I just didn't have any time to take any time off. I loved the students. I just loved the students and felt responsible for them. JW: You served for the Phi Kappa Phi, right? HF: I was secretary, and then in 1974, I was president. Weber State hosted the first International Women's Year Conference in Utah in 1975. I served as chairman. The theme was "Invest in Yourself, Share the Dividends". It was well attended with numerous positive evaluations. JW: Tell us a little bit about your trip to China. It said in the paper that you were working— HF: I was doing my dissertation for my Doctorate in Higher Education Administration at that time. This all happened because I was invited to attend a conference on the Incorporation of Cultural Diversity in Nursing Curriculum. This conference was over a three year time period. We met twice a year during that time. There were about twelve junior colleges involved in this. We learned a lot about different cultures. Most of the time was spent discussing how to get the faculty to start changing the curriculum. Faculty are set on a path in the curriculum and don't want to change it. That was the project, to try to get the different schools to change their curriculum to include cultural 20 diversity. That's what prompted me to do my dissertation. Our faculty revised the curriculum to include culture diversity. JW: It is interesting, and what I read was your article in the Signpost (Appendix F). HF: What did it say? JW: It talks about you working towards your dissertation and how you spent twenty-four days on cultural diversity and studying the health and education of the Chinese people. HF: I tried to get into the clinics. They didn't speak English and I didn't know any Chinese, but I learned a lot about acupuncture during that time and it was very interesting. JW: It said that you learned a lot about holistic healing and that the Chinese were more about holistic healing and letting the body tell you what's wrong and how to heal itself instead of using western medicine. It's an interesting little article. HF: I forgot about that. JW: Tell us about your service on Faculty Senate. HF: Yes, I was on the Faculty Senate twice. We approved recommendations from the various committees. I was on a lot of committees—the tenure committee, the curriculum committee and the ranking committee. I was on the salary committee for a long, long time. I chaired that committee right after I resigned from being the chairman of the Women's Commission, so I knew all the salaries and it was a good thing to be able to be on that committee. I watched and made sure the women were protected then. 21 JW: Does the Women's Commission still exist? HF: Oh no. I'll tell you what happened. When I went to get my doctorate, I thought, "I can't do this anymore. I've got to stop something." By then, all of the salaries were equalized, so I resigned from that position. They gave that job to Forrest Crawford. It just went downhill from then on. It was a lot of work, but I don't know how salaries are now. I just know that it's not as equal as it was. I don't have any idea how much difference there is now, but I know there is some. So, that's what happened to the Women's Commission. JW: It's just a fact of life for women, isn't it? HF: Yes. JW: I guess the other things I saw were your Crystal Crest Award. HF: Oh I was so surprised with that. I had no idea that was coming, no idea at all. They asked me to be one of the people to show nominees two different homes and enjoy lunch with them. I remember I spent all day doing that. My husband had the flu and I really wanted to be home with him. He was very sick. I said, "Do you feel like you could come to this award ceremony." He said, "Oh, I would rather not." Monte Shupe insisted that I come but I really didn't want to go. I remember calling my husband at about 6:30 just before the meeting was supposed to start to ask how he felt. He sounded terrible. But, I went and I was just completely surprised. It was a shocker! JW: The award, just to put it in, stated, "Helen Farr has been President of the Association of Women Students and has been in the U.S. Cadet Nursing Corps. She has held every 22 office including President of the Utah Nursing Association and was the Utah Chair of the First International Women's Conference." That's a great award. After you won that award, you continued working and then you retired? HF: Let's see. When was that Crystal Crest? JW: 1984. HF: I kept teaching. I was honored as professor of the year at the university in 1985. My husband had a mild stroke in the fall of 1986 and I decided I better stay home with him. So I retired at the end of Fall quarter in 1986. The students planned a surprise retirement party, with delicious food and a humorous program. The presented me a block "W" Weber State plaque. I loved teaching, I just loved it. The Student Nurses Association of Utah honored me as the "Outstanding Nurse Educator" in 1986. Leola Davidson, Ruth Brown, and Norma Hansen retired at the end of the school year in 1987. A retirement reception was held for the four of us that spring. In the fall of 1989, I attended a Weber State football game. During halftime, President Nadauld presented me with a Silver Weber State Centennial Medallion. JW: I do not have information about that, I'm glad you brought that up. HF: Well, I don't know why I wrote this, it must have been for something, but you're welcome to have a copy of this. (Helen's Memories of Weber State, Appendix G). JW: Is there anything on there that we've missed? 23 HF: Our oldest son was an attorney, and was killed in an automobile accident on January 14, 1987. My husband had a difficult time with his death and then in March of that same year my husband died. I'd left my job a few months before. Leaving my job at Weber State, and the deaths of my son and husband all happened very close. Leola Davidson said my stress chart was clear off the board. I was really stressed, but you know, you have to get over it. You have to find a way to recover. JW: And you have to keep going. You don't have any other options. HF: Yes, that's true. JW: You have a lot of community service along with your service at Weber. HF: I did. Before I forget though, I wanted to tell you in the fifties, there was a time when Governor J. Bracken Lee wanted to dissolve all of the junior colleges. I can remember that so well and how much that concerned the entire campus. I don't know enough about that background, but I can remember how we were all concerned. That was an experience that I will not forget. JW: That was with—wasn't it President Miller that had to fight to keep Weber State because J. Bracken Lee wanted to shut it down. HF: Right. It was President Miller. He was an excellent administrator. I really liked and respected him. Following President Miller, Joseph Bishop was president. He was followed by Rodney Brady and Stephen Nadauld. Then Faye Preece and I became Co- Chairman of the Emeriti Faculty Association. 24 JW: When Stephen Nadauld was there? HF: Yes, when Stephen Nadauld was there. We were allowed to go down to the Board of Regents meeting when they decided that Weber State would be a University. I remember that so vividly because the University of Utah Regent was just so adamant that Weber and the other state colleges should not be universities. He said, "They should not be universities. There is no way they should be universities." He was just almost yelling at the top of his voice. Well, the vote finally came and our student body president was able to vote. It was one extra affirmative vote that made Weber into a university. I was so thrilled. JW: It was such a fight for a long time. I think that's one of the things about Weber State is the fight to survive has always been there. It was a church school and then the church wanted to do away with it, and then the community had to pick it up. I mean, it's been a fight every step of the way. HF: It has. We've had some marvelous leadership those first hundred years. Actually, Weber State University has done really well, especially these last ten years that Ann Milner was president. She really promoted Weber, was such a good person in the legislature and accomplished numerous projects for Weber. During her speeches she often mentioned that the "WSU Nursing Program was ranked Seventh in the nation". JW: She's changed so many things on campus. HF: She did. That was her whole life. 25 JW: Yes, I cannot say enough good things about what she has accomplished. HF: That's true. JW: What are you most proud of during your time at Weber? HF: Probably the students. They have become excellent registered nurses. Many of them are in leadership positions, scholastic research endeavors and community involvement. Several of them still write or phone me. They frequently remind me of one of my favorite thoughts, "No one cares about what you know until they know how much you care". In 2010, twenty-four years after I retired, the Weber State University Alumni Association honored and surprised me by presenting the Lewis W. Shurtliff Award for Contributions to Education. I really enjoyed the students and the teaching. I almost tear up when I talk about it, but that was such a surprise to me. JW: The way they wrote it up is: "After serving as head nurse in the pediatric unit of Dee Hospital and teaching at St. Benedict's Hospital, Helen Farr joined the faculty of Weber College in 1959, making her the first instructor in the nursing program and the fourth woman on campus to be named a professor. A 1943 graduate of Weber College, she taught 27 years at her alma mater, where she was also the coordinator of the nursing program." HF: Right. That's nice the way they wrote that. JW: It is a wonderful award and it's a nice ceremony that they have for this. 26 HF: It is. It really is. You think after you've left that many years that you won't be remembered, but that was a real surprise. JW: Well, and it hasn't been that long ago, 2010. HF: It hasn't. I still hear from my students. A lot of my students still call me and that's been a span of fifty-five years. You don't have those relationships all the time, especially with students. Anyway, I think the School of Nursing is doing very well. JW: It's made a big difference and it's nice to have an area like the nursing program that is so nationally acclaimed and it really is just— HF: One of our graduates, Marlene Summer, who was in the last class that I taught that fall quarter, is now President of the Sigma Theta Tau International Honors Society of Nursing in the state of Utah. The criteria for membership are very rigid, based on a highly educated faculty, average student GPA, record of National Board examinations and community endeavors. The University of Utah asked me to be a charter member of their chapter in 1972. They had just started their BS program in the College of Nursing and they had an excellent reputation. I didn't know what Sigma Theta Tau was and I said to my husband, "I don't think I want to go down to the University of Utah. I don't have any affiliation with the U," and he said, "You better do it." So, I did go down and become a member. In the mid 1980's, the Weber State Nursing Program requested to become a chapter and had received several information and guideline letters from the national headquarters in Indiana. I was asked to work on the application following my retirement. 27 A representative from the U of U and I met several times to prepare information for submission to the national office. Now, twenty-two years later, the Weber State chapter has won many awards in leadership, scholarship and community endeavors. It is internationally recognized as an outstanding chapter. JW: Is there anything that you'd like to add that we haven't talked about? HF: No, I've just loved you both being here. It's brought back a lot of nice memories. JW: It's been such an incredible story. We both really enjoy this so we don't limit our time schedule. We just make sure we have plenty of time. HF: I had so many good experiences at Weber and have many nice memories. I didn't have one year I didn't enjoy. It was nice. JW: It is really the alumni that have this love for Weber that are helping to keep it going and helping to keep that spirit alive. HF: Do you have a lot of faculty that feel like I do? JW: Everybody that went to school at the same time you did feels the same way you do. HF: They do? I think I'm probably one of the oldest ones you've interview though, aren't I? JW: Probably. HF: That's why I thought you needed to hear my story because I knew I was probably one of the oldest ones. 28 JW: Yes, because a lot of them weren't there in the years that you were there. JW: You've been single for since 1987, and you are still able to do so many things, so that's really good. HF: Well, I like to and as long as I have a mind and I hope it's working. You know, if people tell me I don't say things right I'll know I'm losing it. JW: I think as long as you're keeping busy and making your mind work and playing cards it helps. HF: I hope you would realize how wonderful those first two years at Weber were though. Well, I liked every year at Weber really. I was sorry to have to retire, but I'm glad I did because I knew my husband needed me to be home. JW: You did get some time with him. You were busy, just crazy busy all the time. HF: I don't know how I stayed on all those committees like I did, but I was willing to do it and that did help me learn a lot about the different campus people. I knew their names, but didn't really know them. This helped me learn more about the campus people and it was a wonderful group of people, the faculty, staff and students. JW: We sure appreciate you letting us come today. HF: Thank you very much. 29 Appendix A Appendix B-1 Appendix B-2 Appendix B-3 Appendix B-4 Appendix C Appendix D

BACKGROUND: Traumatic brain injury (TBI) and spinal cord injury (SCI) are increasingly recognised as global health priorities in view of the preventability of most injuries and the complex and expensive medical care they necessitate. We aimed to measure the incidence, prevalence, and years of life lived with disability (YLDs) for TBI and SCI from all causes of injury in every country, to describe how these measures have changed between 1990 and 2016, and to estimate the proportion of TBI and SCI cases caused by different types of injury. METHODS: We used results from the Global Burden of Diseases, Injuries, and Risk Factors (GBD) Study 2016 to measure the global, regional, and national burden of TBI and SCI by age and sex. We measured the incidence and prevalence of all causes of injury requiring medical care in inpatient and outpatient records, literature studies, and survey data. By use of clinical record data, we estimated the proportion of each cause of injury that required medical care that would result in TBI or SCI being considered as the nature of injury. We used literature studies to establish standardised mortality ratios and applied differential equations to convert incidence to prevalence of long-term disability. Finally, we applied GBD disability weights to calculate YLDs. We used a Bayesian meta-regression tool for epidemiological modelling, used cause-specific mortality rates for non-fatal estimation, and adjusted our results for disability experienced with comorbid conditions. We also analysed results on the basis of the Socio-demographic Index, a compound measure of income per capita, education, and fertility. FINDINGS: In 2016, there were 27·08 million (95% uncertainty interval [UI] 24·30-30·30 million) new cases of TBI and 0·93 million (0·78-1·16 million) new cases of SCI, with age-standardised incidence rates of 369 (331-412) per 100 000 population for TBI and 13 (11-16) per 100 000 for SCI. In 2016, the number of prevalent cases of TBI was 55·50 million (53·40-57·62 million) and of SCI was 27·04 million (24·98-30·15 million). From 1990 to 2016, the age-standardised prevalence of TBI increased by 8·4% (95% UI 7·7 to 9·2), whereas that of SCI did not change significantly (-0·2% [-2·1 to 2·7]). Age-standardised incidence rates increased by 3·6% (1·8 to 5·5) for TBI, but did not change significantly for SCI (-3·6% [-7·4 to 4·0]). TBI caused 8·1 million (95% UI 6·0-10·4 million) YLDs and SCI caused 9·5 million (6·7-12·4 million) YLDs in 2016, corresponding to age-standardised rates of 111 (82-141) per 100 000 for TBI and 130 (90-170) per 100 000 for SCI. Falls and road injuries were the leading causes of new cases of TBI and SCI in most regions. INTERPRETATION: TBI and SCI constitute a considerable portion of the global injury burden and are caused primarily by falls and road injuries. The increase in incidence of TBI over time might continue in view of increases in population density, population ageing, and increasing use of motor vehicles, motorcycles, and bicycles. The number of individuals living with SCI is expected to increase in view of population growth, which is concerning because of the specialised care that people with SCI can require. Our study was limited by data sparsity in some regions, and it will be important to invest greater resources in collection of data for TBI and SCI to improve the accuracy of future assessments. FUNDING: Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation. ; Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation ; We acknowledge the funding and support of the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation. AK was supported by the Miguel Servet contract, which was financed by the CP13/00150 and PI15/00862 projects integrated into the National Research, Development, and Implementation,and funded by the Instituto de Salud Carlos III General Branch Evaluation and Promotion of Health Research and the European Regional Development Fund (ERDF-FEDER). AMS is supported by the Egyptian Fulbright Mission Program. AF acknowledges the Federal University of Sergipe (Sergipe, Brazil). AA received financial assistance from the Indian Department of Science and Technology (New Delhi, India) through the INSPIRE faculty programme. AS is supported by Health Data Research UK. DJS is supported by the South African Medical Research Council. AB is supported by the Public Health Agency of Canada. SMSI received a senior research fellowship from the Institute for Physical Activity and Nutrition, Deakin University (Waurn Ponds, VIC, Australia), and a career transition grant from the High Blood Pressure Research Council of Australia. FP and CF acknowledge support from the European Union (FEDER funds POCI/01/0145/FEDER/007728 and POCI/01/0145/FEDER/007265) and National Funds (FCT/MEC, Fundação para a Ciência e a Tecnologia, and Ministério da Educação e Ciência) under the Partnership Agreements PT2020 UID/MULTI/04378/2013 and PT2020 UID/QUI/50006/2013. TB acknowledges financial support from the Institute of Medical Research and Medicinal Plant Studies, Yaoundé, Cameroon. AM of Imperial College London is grateful for support from the Northwest London National Institute for Health Research (NIHR) Collaboration for Leadership in Applied Health Research andCare and the Imperial NIHR Biomedical Research Centre. KD is funded by a Wellcome Trust Intermediate Fellowship in Public Health and Tropical Medicine (grant number 201900). PSA is supported by an Australian National Health and Medical Research Council Early Career Fellowship. RT-S was supported in part by grant number PROMETEOII/2015/021 from Generalitat Valenciana and the national grant PI17/00719 from ISCIII-FEDER. The Serbian part of this contribution (by MJ) has been co-financed with grant OI175014 from the Serbian Ministry of Education, Science and Technological Development; publication of results was not contingent upon the Ministry's approval. MMMSM acknowledges support from the Serbian Ministry of Education, Science and Technological Development (contract 175087). MM's research was supported by the NIHR Biomedical Research Centre at Guy's and St Thomas' NHS Foundation Trust (London, UK) and King's College London. The views expressed are those of the authors and not necessarily those of the UK National Health Service, the NIHR, or the UK Department of Health. TWB was supported by the Alexander von Humboldt Foundation through the Alexander von Humboldt professor award, which was funded by the German Federal Ministry of Education and Research ; Sí

25 páginas, 6 figuras, 2 tablas ; Characterization of the genetic landscape of Alzheimer's disease (AD) and related dementias (ADD) provides a unique opportunity for a better understanding of the associated pathophysiological processes. We performed a two-stage genome-wide association study totaling 111,326 clinically diagnosed/'proxy' AD cases and 677,663 controls. We found 75 risk loci, of which 42 were new at the time of analysis. Pathway enrichment analyses confirmed the involvement of amyloid/tau pathways and highlighted microglia implication. Gene prioritization in the new loci identified 31 genes that were suggestive of new genetically associated processes, including the tumor necrosis factor alpha pathway through the linear ubiquitin chain assembly complex. We also built a new genetic risk score associated with the risk of future AD/dementia or progression from mild cognitive impairment to AD/dementia. The improvement in prediction led to a 1.6- to 1.9-fold increase in AD risk from the lowest to the highest decile, in addition to effects of age and the APOE ε4 allele. ; This work was funded by a grant (EADB) from the EU Joint Programme – Neurodegenerative Disease Research. INSERM UMR1167 is also funded by the INSERM, Institut Pasteur de Lille, Lille Métropole Communauté Urbaine and French government's LABEX DISTALZ program (development of innovative strategies for a transdisciplinary approach to AD). Full consortium acknowledgements and funding are in the Supplementary Not ; Peer reviewed

DIE UNSTERBLICHE LANDSCHAFT. ZWEITER BAND: FLANDERN. ARRAS-SOMME-ST. QUENTIN. DIE AISNE-CHAMPAGNE-FRONT. DER KAMPFRAUM VERDUN. VOGESENKRIEG. DER KRIEG IN DEN KOLONIEN. DER SEEKRIEG. Die unsterbliche Landschaft (-) Die unsterbliche Landschaft. Zweiter Band: Flandern. Arras-Somme-St. Quentin. Die Aisne-Champagne-Front. Der Kampfraum Verdun. Vogesenkrieg. Der Krieg in den Kolonien. Der Seekrieg. (II. / 1935) ( - ) Einband ( - ) Titelseite ( - ) Impressum ( - ) Flandern ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) Die Eroberung von Lüttich (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der große Augenblick des Einmarsches in Feindesland! (2)Die Regimenter liegen am Abend des 5. August in weitem Halbkreis um die Fortlinie. In dem Ernst der Gesichter prägt sich die Spannung des bevorstehenden Gefechts aus. (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der nächtliche Kampf in brennenden Dörfern entschleiert dem Soldaten hier zum ersten Male das grausige Gesicht des Krieges. (2)Einer einzigen Kolonne glückt der Einbruch in die Festung. In fieberhafter Eile wird schwerstes Geschütz gegen die Forts in Stellung gebracht, um den Eingeschlossenen Hilfe zu bringen. (2) [3 Abb.]: (1)Fort Liers. In einem gewaltigen Betonklotz sind vier Panzerkuppeln eingebettet; eine Anlage, die unverwundbar schien. (2)Fort Loncin. Teile des Forts sind durch die deutsche Beschießung in ein Trümmerfeld verwandelt; andere, dicht daneben liegende Teile sind von der Geschoßwirkung fast unberührt geblieben, ein Zeichen für die Treffgenauigkeit der schweren Geschütze. (3)Das Geschütz war stärker als Panzer und Beton! Die Forts mußten Kapitulieren. - Wall und Graben eines gestürmten Werkes. Voll Staunen betrachten die deutschen Soldaten die zerschmetternde Wirkung der 42-cm-Granate. (3) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Justizpalast, im 16. Jahrhundert als Residenzschloß des Fürstbischofs erbaut, im 18. Jahrhundert erneuert, würde für kurze Zeit Hauptsitz der militärischen Verwaltungsbehörde. (2)Hof des Justizpalastes in Brüssel nach der Besetzung. Er gehört zu den bedeutendsten Baudenkmälern Brüssels. (4) Der Durchmarsch durch Belgien im August 1914 (5) [2 Abb.]: (1)Durch die bei Lüttich geschlagene Bresche strömten um die Mitte des August die 1. und 2. deutsche Armee nach Belgien hinein. (2)Marschieren! - Marschieren! (5) [3 Abb.]: (1)Nicht selten kam es zu erbitterten Ortskämpfen mit der aufständischen Bevölkerung, deren völkerrechtswidriges Verhalten strenge Strafmaßnahmen notwendig machte. - Im Franktireurkrieg in Brand geratenes Dorf. (2)Unsere vorrückenden Truppen begegneten überall flüchtender Zivilbevölkerung. (3)Auf Schubkarren führen die heimatlos Gewordenen ihre ärmliche Habe mit sich. - Ein trauriges Bild des erbarmungslosen Krieges. (6) [2 Abb.]: Am 20. August wurde Brüssel besetzt, das Sitz des Generalgouverneurs von Belgien wurde. Hier liefen während des ganzen Krieges die Fäden der Verwaltung zusammen. (1)Auf dem Marktplatz vor dem Rathaus. (2)Die deutsche Wache vor dem Brüsseler Rathaus. (7) [2 Abb.]: (1)Namur. Blick von der Zitadelle auf das tief eingeschnittene Maastal mit seinen bewaldeten Hängen. Teile der Stadt sind durch die Belagerung zerstört worden. (2)Maubeuge, Fort Boussoir. Wirkung eines 42 cm-Treffers auf eine Panzerkuppel, deren Deckel abgehoben und fortgeschleudert ist. (8) [2 Abb.]: Rastlos weiter geht der Marsch, nach Frankreich hinein. Immer länger werden die rückwärtigen Verbindungen zu den Proviant- und Munitionsdepots der Heimat. Die Kolonnen haben schwere Arbeit. (2)Am härtesten sind die Anforderungen an die Infanterie. Die ungeheure Spannung der Lage erlaubt keine Ruhe und Schonung. Todmüde sinken die Soldaten bei jeder Rast zu Boden. (9) Die Eroberung Antwerpens im Oktober 1914 (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Einschlag einer 42-cm-Granate im Fort de Wavre St. Catherine. Man erkennt die klare Linie der Wallböschung rechts und links vom Einschlag und die Panzerkuppeln. (2)Vor dem Sturm auf Fort de Wavre. Die Sturmkolonne hat in einem riesigen, anscheinend von einem 42-cm-Geschoß herrührenden Granattrichter Deckung genommen und erwartet das Signal zum Vorbrechen. Einige Leute sind mit Brandröhren zum Ausräuchern der Grabenwehren ausgerüstet. Der offizier trägt noch den langen Degen. Haltung und Gesichtsausdruck der Mannschaften ist für die Lage sehr bezeichnend. (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Sturm auf das Fort de Wavre. Über den Wassergraben des Forts sind von den Pionieren tragbare Schnellbrücken geschoben für den Übergang der Infanterie. In der Mitte der Wallböschung sammelt sich der Sturmtrupp, um geschlossen in das Innere des Forts einzubrechen. Links daneben eine außer Gefecht gesetzte Panzerkuppel. (2)Zertrümmerter Panzerbeobachtungsturm. Ein einziger Volltreffer hat genügt. (11) [2 Abb.]: (1)In den Straßen, die zum Hafen hinabführen, einst von Seeleuten aus aller Welt belebt, ist es still geworden. Der herrliche Turm der Kathedrale ist das stolze Wahrzeichen der reichen alten Handelsstadt. (2)Teil des Hafens an der Schelde mit Blick auf die Kathedrale. (12) Der Vormarsch der neuen Reservekorps nach Flandern (13) [Abb.]: Marschrast. Die jungen Soldaten wußten noch nichts von dem furchtbaren Ernst des Krieges, der sie an der Yser und vor Ypern erwartet. (13) [2 Abb.]: (1)Gent. Blick von der St.-Michaels-Brücke auf die St.-Nikolaus-Kirche und den Belfried, (2)Marktplatz in Courtrai. (14) [2 Abb.]: Das prachtvolle gotische Rathaus in Oudenaarde legt Zeugnis ab von dem einstigen Reichtum selbst der kleineren flandrischen Städte. (2)Belgische Flüchtlinge kehren zurück. Charakteristisch ist die Art, wie das schwere belgische Pferd ohne Deichsel an losen Ketten vor den Wagen gespannt ist. (15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Brügge, in früheren Jahrhunderten Mittelpunkt des Welthandels im nördlichen Europa, heute eine stille verträumte Stadt, der die altertümlichen Bauten und zahllose Kanäle einen einzigartigen Zauber verleihen. - Der Marktplatz mit den vom Belfried überragten "Hallen". (16) An der belgischen Küste (17) [2 Abb.]: (1)Schützengräben in den Dünen bei Zebrügge nahe der holländischen Grenze. Der Strand ist durch Buhnen gegen die Gewalt der Fluten geschützt. Ins Meer hinaus geführte Dämme sichern den Kanal gegen Versandung. Hinter den Dünen breitet sich eine fruchtbare Landschaft. - Die Aufnahme stammt von 1917. (2)Ein Seekanal verbindet Brügge mit dem Seehafen Zeebrügge. (17) [3 Abb.]: (1)Am Meer. - Badende Soldaten. (2)Das Weltbad Ostende wurde ohne Widerstand besetzt. Auf den Terrassen der Luxushotels vergessen die Soldaten für kurze Stunden den Ernst des Krieges. (3)Aber bald ändert sich auch hier das Bild. Die Ostender Strandpromenade, einst Treffpunkt der eleganten Welt, wird ein Teil der Küstenkampffront. (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Küstenverteidigung bei Ostende. Von Marinesoldaten besetzte Stellungen in den Dünen. (2)Matrosenartillerie. - Vier Jahre lang hielten die deutschen schweren Geschütze die englische Flotte von der belgischen Küste fern. (19) [2 Abb.]: Küstenbatterie Kaiser Wilhelm II. bei Knocke. (1)Eine gewaltige Anlage mit Betonunterständen und Panzerschutz und mit Gleisanschlüssen für den Munitionstransport. Vor der Batterie ein Drahthindernisstreifen. Weiter vorwärts, hier nicht mehr sichtbar, Infanterieanlagen, durch Annäherungswege mit der Batterie verbunden. (2)Aufbau einer Küstenbatterie, aus der Nähe gesehen. Die unter Panzerlafette stehenden Geschütze sind im Halbkreis drehbar und durch mächtige gemauerte und betonierte Schulterwehren gegen Schrägfeuer geschützt. Hinter den Geschützen läuft das Förderbahngleis für den Munitionstransport. Die Geschützstände stehen auf Kasematten für die Unterbringung der Mannschaften und der Munition. (20) [2 Abb.]: Deutsche Torpedoboote und U-Boote vor Zebrügge. (21) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rundbild vom Lombardzyde. (2)Rundbildaufnahme des Geländes zwischen Nieuport und Nieuport Bad. Im Vordergrund der Groot Noord Nieuwland Polder mit der durch den Durchstich des Yserdammes hervorgerufenen Überschwemmung. Die deutschen Stellungen laufen durch die Zuckerfabrik, die französischen liegen an der Baumlinie hinter der Polder Ferme. (22 -23) Der Kampfraum an der Yser (24) [2 Abb.]: (1)Große Yserschleuse bei Nieuport. Infolge der Zerstörung der Schleusen strömte das Meerwasser ungehindert in das teilweise unter dem Meeresspiegel liegende Land ein. Der aus dem Schleusenbecken in der Mitte des Bildes nach oben rechts führende Wasserlauf stellt die Verbindung zum Meer her; die nach unten und nach links führenden Wasserläufe sind Kanäle und schiffbar gemachte Flußläufe, die in das Innere des Landes gehen. Das Bild ist 1915 aufgenommen. Die Zerstörungen um Nieuport sind bereits sehr beträchtlich. (2)Immer mehr füllte sich die Yserniederung mit Meerwasser. Nur die auf Dämmen führenden Straßen boten noch Verkehrsmöglichkeiten. Neben dem Fahrdamm läuft, ein in der Flandrischen Landschaft häufiges Bild, eine Kleinbahn. Charakteristisch für Flandern sind die schiefgeneigten Baumreihen. (24) [2 Abb.]: Die steigende Wasserflut machte die Fortsetzung des Angriffs schließlich unmöglich. In kurzer Zeit war ein weitausgedehntes Sumpfgebiet entstanden. (25) [2 Abb.]: (1)Selbst die Kanalböschungen mußten, um Schutz zu gewinnen, erhöht werden. Im Vordergrund eine behelfsmäßige Kanalbrücke, hinten ein langer über die Wasserfläche führender Laufsteg. (2)Schräge Ballonaufnahme aus dem Überschwemmungsgebiet. Die dunklen Flächen sind trockengebliebenes Land. (26) [2 Abb.]: (1)Senkrechte Fliegeraufnahme vom Überschwemmungsgebiet. Die Verteilung von Wasser und Land ist deutlich zu erkennen. - Der helle Strich von links oben nach rechts unten ist eine Chaussee. Die dünnen Linien sind Laufstege, die zu den Stützpunkten (Werften) führen. In der rechten unteren Ecke ein zur Verteidigung eingerichtetes Dorf mit vielen Geschoßeinschlägen; in der linken ein Fluß, an dessen Ufern befestigte Häusergruppen stehen. (2)Englisches Arbeitskommando im Überschwemmungsgebiet. (27) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das zerstörte Rathaus in Dixmuiden, 1917 aufgenommen. Die edlen architektonischen Formen sind selbst aus den Trümmern noch deutlich erkennbar. (2)Straße am Kanal in Dixmuiden. - Aufnahme von 1916. (28) Der Kampfraum um Ypern (29) [2 Abb.]: (1)Vorkriegsaufnahme der Tuchhalle und der Kathedrale St. Martin in Ypern. Diese beiden Meisterwerke der gotischen Baukunst Flanderns hat der Weltkrieg bis auf spärliche Reste vernichtet. Heute ist die Kathedrale nach den alten Plänen wieder vollständig aufgebaut. (2)Blick aus dem Fesselballon auf das brennende Ypern. (29) [3 Abb.]: (1)Rundbild von Ypern vom Juni 1915. Die Aufnahme ist von Höhe 60, nördlich Hollebeck, gemacht. Am unteren Rand des Bildes ist die Brustwehr des deutschen Schützengrabens sichtbar, links in der Mitte das feindliche Drahthindernis; dahinter maskierte Schützengräben. Die Raumverhältnisse sind durch die Fernaufnahme stark verschoben. Die Entfernung bis Ypern beträgt etwa 7 km. (2)Fliegeraufnahme von Ypern aus dem Jahre 1915. In der Mitte die Tuchhalle mit dem Belfried, dahinter die Kathedrale. Die ganze Stadt ist schon fast ausgebrannt. Nur die Umfassungsmauern stehen noch. (3)Ypern im Jahre 1917. Oben in der Mitte ein Teil der Tuchhalle, links daneben die Kathedrale (Turmseite). Die Umfassungsmauern der Gebäude sind durch die ständige Beschießung größenteils eingestürzt. In der linken und rechten Ecke mächtige Erdtrichter, wahrscheinlich von schweren Fliegerbomben herrührend. (30 - 31) [2 Abb.]: (1)Unterstände im Damm des Yserkanals (Innenseite). Die Kanalwand ist durch Faschinen befestigt. Ein Bohlenweg stellt die Verbindung her. (2)Flandrischer Kanal. Die Schleuse (unten) ist zerstört. Vier Brücken stellen auf der kurzen Strecke schnellen Übergang sicher. (32) [Abb.]: Die zerstörte Kirche von Langemarck. (33) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Betonunterstände bei Langemarck, die alle Stürme der Materialschlachten überdauert haben, dienten nach dem Kriege den Bauern als Geräteschuppen. (2)Ehrenhof in der Gedächtnishalle auf dem deutschen Gefallenenfriedhof bei Langemarck, den die deutsche Studentenschaft im Jahre 1932 unter Verwendung der alten Betonunterstände errichten ließ. (34) [2 Abb.]: Das stark zerschossene "Polygonwäldchen" südöstlich Ypern, einer der Brennpunkte des Kampfes. (35) [2 Abb.]: Englische und deutsche Schützengräben bei Zonnenbeke im Jahre 1915. (36) [2 Abb.]: (1)Paschendaele vor Beginn der Flandernschlacht 1917. Um diese Zeit standen noch Trümmer des Dorfes. Die Straßenzüge sind deutlich erkennbar. (2)Becelaire. Man erkennt die ganz flache Bodenwelle, wie sie für diese Landschaft charakteristisch ist. Nach dem oberen und linken Rand des Bildes zu fällt das Gelände ab und bildet dort eine flache Mulde. Die Schützengräben und Annäherungswege um Kirche und Dorf zeichnen sich deutlich ab. (37) [Abb.]: Gutausgebauter Schützengraben im Park des Schlosses Hooge, östlich Zillebeke. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im Houthulsterwald Anfang 1917. Trotz der Verwüstungen sind noch Schützengräben und Annäherungswege vorhanden, die eine geregelte Gefechtstätigkeit ermöglichen. (2)Betonunterstand in Gegend Hollebeke. Da die Anlage von Unterständen in dem versumpften flandrischen Boden je länger je mehr unmöglich wurde, war man gezwungen, auf dem gewachsenen Boden mächtige Betonflötze (Bunker) zu errichten. (39) [2 Abb.]: (1)Meilenlange Bohlenstraßen wurden gebaut, um der Kampffront Verpflegung und Kampfgerät zuführen zu können. So entstand ein ganz neues Wegenetz, eine Glanzleistung deutscher Pioniere. (2)Außerhalb der Bohlenwege war in dem Trichterfeld ein Verkehr von Fahrzeugen vielfach gar nicht mehr möglich. (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im Wytschaetebogen. - In dem Höhengelände südlich Ypern wurden die riesigen bei den englischen Sprengungen entstandenen Trichter zu Stützpunkten ausgebaut. (2)Auf der anderen Seite des Stacheldrahts (41) Die Schlacht in Flandern 1917 (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Trommelfeuer auf den deutschen Stellungen bei Zillebeke. Dieser Geschoßhagel hielt ohne Unterbrechung Tage und Wochen an, bis endlich der Infanterieangriff begann. - Der schwarz-Weiße Strich ist ein Teil des Flugzeugs. (2)Stellung im Trichtergelände vor dem Trommelfeuer. Es besteht noch eine Art durchlaufender Graben. Zahlreiche Trampelwege führen nach vorwärts und rückwärts. Links oben ein Förderbahngleis. Der Platz in der Mitte ist anscheinend Stapelplatz für Pioniergerät; auf seiner rechten Seite ein gut getarnter Bunker. (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Flandrisches Trichterfeld. Der Soldat muß sich zwischen den Trichtern mühsam seinen Weg suchen, bis zu den Knien im Morast watend, stets in Gefahr, in einem Trichter zu versinken. In dunkler Nacht und unter schwerem Feuer steigert sich das Grausen einer solchen Wanderung ins unvorstellbare. (2)Trichterstellung während der Flandernschlacht. Es gibt keine zusammenhängenden und durchlaufenden Gräben mehr, sondern nur noch einzelne Maschinengewehrnester und Postenlöcher (auf dem Bild an der dunkleren Färbung erkennbar). In ihnen lagen die Mannschaften halb im Wasser und Schlamm, wochenlang der Wirkung der Artillerie und der Infanterieflieger schutzlos preisgegeben. - Die drei von rechts oben nach links unten führenden dunklen Striche deuten noch die ursprüngliche Grabenanlage an, die jedoch völlig aufgegeben ist. (43) Die Erstürmung des Kemmel im April 1918 (44 - 45) [3 Abb.]: (1)Blick aus der Gegend nordöstlich Armentières auf den Kemmel. (2)Die Artillerievorbereitungen für den Sturm auf den Kemmel: Vergasung der feindlichen Artilleriestellungen und Beobachtungsstellen. Die in der Bildmitte schwarz erkennbaren feindlichen Infanteriestellungen weisen vorläufig nur wenig Beschuß auf. (3)Rundbild vom Kemmelgebiet, aufgenommen vom Straßenkreuz östlich Nieuwekerke. Man erkennt, daß es sich um einen ziemlich flachen, mit schütterem Wald bedeckten Höhenzug handelt, der indessen einen umfassenden Überblick über das Gelände südlich Ypern gewährt. Links im Walde zahlreiche Wellblechbaracken. Auf dem rechten Teil des Bildes sind Stellungen sichtbar. (44 - 45) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die ganze Feuervorbereitung dauerte nur wenige Stunden, war dafür aber von ungeheurer Stärke. - Das Bild zeigt die höchste Feuersteigerung. Der ganze Berg liegt unter einem Orkan, bei dem die einzelnen Einschläge nicht mehr erkennbar sind. (2)An der Vormarschstraße. (46) [2 Abb.]: (1)Schnell ausgehobene Gräben boten geringen Schutz. - Meldegänger am Hang des Kemmel. (2)Der Kemmel nach dem Sturm. - Ein riesiges Trichterfeld, in dem die Stellungen kaum noch erkennbar sind. (47) [Abb.]: Am Ortseingang des wiedererstandenen Langemarck. (48) [3 Karten]: (1)Westflandern (2)Belgien (3)Sprachgebiete von Belgien ( - ) Arras - Somme - St. Quentin ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) [Abb.]: Das Industriegebiet von Lille bildete die Grenze zwischen den Kampfräumen Flandern und Lens - Arras. - Die Stadt Lille, die seit Herbst 1914 nahe hinter den deutschen Linien lag, erlitt verhaltensmäßig nur geringe Zerstörungen. (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Amiens, die alte Hauptstadt der Pikardie, sah nur beim Vormarsch 1914 deutsche Truppen in ihren Mauern. Während des späteren Stellungskrieges lag es weit vor der deutschen Front. - Die herrliche Kathedrale blieb unbeschädigt. (2)Marktplatz von Cambrai. - Die Stadt geriet nur 1917 in der Tankschlacht von Cambrai in den Brennpunkt der Kämpfe. (2) [2 Abb.]: (1)In der Schlacht von St. Quentin warf die deutsche 2. Armee in den letzten Augusttagen 1914 den bereits bei Charleroi geschlagenen Feind erneut zurück. Im späteren Stellungskrieg hatte die Stadt zeitweise schwer unter dem Krieg zu leiden. (2)Péronne war während der Sommeschlacht einer der Hauptpfeiler der deutschen Front. Die Stadt wurde beim Rückzug in die Siegfriedstellung dem Feind überlassen, in der Großen Schlacht in Frankreich im Frühjahr 1918 aber zurückerobert. (3) [2 Abb.]: (1)Sommelandschaft bei Cléry nordwestlich von Péronne. Die Somme verläuft hier in einer breiten sumpfigen Niederung zwischen flachen Hügeln. (2)Landschaft bei Arras. Das Bild ist von den Stellungen bei Beaurains aus mit der Blickrichtung von Süden nach Norden aufgenommen. (4 - 5) Die Schlacht bei Arras (6 - 7) [2 Abb.]: Das Hügelland des Artois fällt zwischen Arras und Lens mit einer deutlichen Stufe nach Westen zur flandrischen Ebene ab. Um die Abhänge bei Farbus, Vimy, Souchez, die im Herbst 1914 von den Deutschen besetzt worden waren, wurde jahrelang unter ungeheurem Einsatz von Menschen und Material gekämpft. Erst im Jahre 1917 wurden die Deutschen endgültig von den Hängen heruntergedrängt. - Blick von Liévin auf Schloß und Wald von Noulette. (2)Die Kämpfe bei Lens-Souchez, spielten sich vielfach mitten zwischen den Schachtanlagen und Geröllhalden und im Straßengewirr der Arbeiterkolonien ab. Sie erhielten dadurch ein ganz besondereres Gepräge. - Der Schacht 6, südlich von Angres. (6 - 7) [Abb.]: Marktplatz und Kirche in Lens vor dem Beginn der großen englischen Offensive beiderseits von Arras im April 1917. (8) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der gleiche Platz nach der Schlacht, in deren Verlauf die feindlichen Linien bis unmittelbar an Lens heranrückten. (2)Die Ruinen der Schlachtanlagen mit gespenstisch in die Luft ragenden Maschinen gaben der Landschaft ihre besondere Note. (9) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rundblick auf die Lorettohöhe, einen schmalen von Südost nach Nordwest sich hinziehenden Bergrücken westlich Lens mit einer Notre Dame de Loretto genannten Wallfahrtskapelle, die vom Herbst 1914 bis zum Herbst 1915 im Brennpunkt der Kämpfe bei Arras stand. - Das Bild ist von der östlich der Lorettohöhe gelegenen Gießlerhöhe aufgenommen worden. (2)Kampfgelände vor der Siegfriedstellung, nordwestlich St. Quentin. Blick vom Standpunkt 500 m östlich St. Emilie nach Südwesten auf Villers-Faucon und Roisel. - Das Bild wurde im Mai 1918, nach der Großen Schlacht in Frankreich, aufgenommen. (10 -11) [2 Abb.]: (1)Um Schußfeld für die Stellungen zu schaffen, die seit dem Frühjahr 1917, nach der Arrasschlacht, durch den Westteil von Lens führten, wurde durch ausgedehnte Sprengungen eine breite Lücke mitten durch das Häusergewirr geschlagen. (2)Die neben den Schächten auftragenden Schlackenpyramiden wurden zu Hauptstützpunkten der Verteidigung ausgebaut. (12) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Rathaus von Arras, mit seinem hochragenden Belfried, eine der schönsten Bauten Frankreichs, vor der Zerstörung. (2)Die Ruinen des Rathauses, nachdem Arras durch jahrelange Beschießung zum großen Teil in Trümmer gesunken war. (13) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das zerstörte Souchez. Im Hintergrund der Hang der Lorettohöhe. (2)Sehr schwere Kämpfe spielten sich auch weiter nördlich am La-Bassée-Kanal ab. - Fliegerbild vom Kampfgelände am Kanal. (14) Die Sommeschlacht (15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Schwere englische Artillerie in Feuerstellung auf dem Sommeschlachtfeld. (2)Englische Munitionskolonne. Bei dem gewaltigen Munitionsverbrauch hatten die Kolonnen große Arbeit zu leisten. (15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im Kampfgebiet an der Somme. Das Gelände ist durch das Trommelfeuer vollkommen zerstampft. Die Bodenbewachsung und - bedeckung ist ganz verschwunden. Die deutschen Gräben sind nur noch in schwachen Umrissen zu erkennen. (2)Zum Durchbruch kam es trotzdem nicht. Die deutschen Reserven setzten sich in dem Trichtergelände immer wieder fest. (16) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eingreifdivisionen standen hinter den Kampflinien bereit, um sich dem Feind im Gegenangriff entgegenzuwerfen. (2)Kampfgelände bei Maurepas. (17) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Wald von Thiepval, nordöstlich Albert. (2)Kampfgelände zwischen Combles und Morval. (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kampfgelände bei Cléry. (2)Truppenverbandplatz hinter der Front. (19) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Weg nach "vorn" führte an zusammengeschossenen Munitionswagen und an Toten vorbei, die das Feuer gefaßt hatte. (2)Straße in Bapaume. Die Kampflinie rückte im Laufe der Kämpfe bis dicht an die zusammengeschossene Stadt heran. (20) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ebenso wie Baupame wurde auch Péronne während der Schlacht zerstört. Die Kathedrale fiel der Beschießung zum Opfer. (2)Englische Reserven auf dem Vormarsch zur Front. (21) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Trümmer von Chaulnes, des südlichen Eckpunktes der deutschen Stellungen in der Sommeschlacht. (2)Platz vor der Kathedrale von Péronne. (22) [2 Abb.]: (1)Je tiefer die angreifenden Engländer und Franzosen in das völlig zerstörte Gelände eindrangen, um so schwieriger gestalteten sich die rückwärtigen Verbindungen. - Wegeausbesserungen hinter den englischen Stellungen bei Guillemont. (2)Als die Schlacht im November 1916 zu Ende ging, hatten die Angreifer nur einen schmalen Streifen von wenigen Kilometer Tiefe gewonnen. Dieser Raum war mit dem Blut von mehr als einer Million Toter und Verwundeter getränkt. (23) Die Siegfriedstellung (24 - 25) [3 Abb.]: (1)Noyon. Im Hintergrund die Türme der Kathedrale. Der weit nach Südwesten auspringende Bogen von Noyon wurde beim Rückzug in die Siegfriedstellung aufgegeben. (2)Bei La Fère die Stellungen auf das Westufer der Oise vorgeschoben und bildeten dort einen Brückenkopf. (3)Oiselandschaft nördlich von La Fère. Das durch Flußanstauungen weithin überschwemmte Gelände gewährte den deutschen Stellungen wirksamen Schutz. (24 - 25) [2 Abb.]: (1)Brand und Sprengungen in dem wenige Kilometer vor der Siegfriedstellung, westlich von La Fère, gelegenen Chauny. (2)Besonderen Wert legte man auf die Zerstörung der Bahnanlagen. - Sprengung an der Bahnstrecke Chauny - Noyon. (26) [2 Abb.]: (1)Um dem Feind jede Unterkunftsmöglichkeit zu nehmen, mußte eine größere Anzahl an Dörfern niedergelegt werden. (2)Alles Gerät und alle Vorräte, die für die Kriegführung irgendwie von Nutzen sein konnten, werden zurückgeschafft. (27) [3 Abb.]: (1)St. Quentin im Januar 1917, also noch vor dem Rückzug in die Siegfriedstellung. Die Stadt befand sich um diese Zeit in völlig unversehrtem Zustande. (2)Durch den Rückzug in die Siegfriedstellung geriet St. Quentin in die vorderste Kampflinie und wurde durch die französische Beschießung allmählich zerstört. Blick auf die ausgebrannte Kathedrale. Rechts auf dem Bilde ein Einschlag. (3)Im sterbenden St. Quentin: Die Straßen verwandeln sich durch Beschießung und Brände allmählich in Schutthaufen. Im Hintergrunde des Bildes ist, von der Seite gesehen, das durch seine reiche Architektur berühmte Rathaus sichtbar. (28 - 29) Die Tankschlacht bei Cambrai. (30) [Abb.]: Feindlicher Tankhafen hinter der Front. Die mit Lagerräumen und Reparaturwerkstätten ausgestatteten Sammelstellen dienten auch als Exerzierplätze. Die Tankspuren lassen die Beweglichkeit und Wendigkeit der Tanks erkennen. (30) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Marktplatz von Cambrai. Die Stadt wurde durch die Tankschlacht aus ihrer bisherigen Ruhe heftig aufgeschreckt. (2)Englische Tanks im Abwehrfeuer deutscher Geschütze und Minenwerfer. Ein großer Teil wurde kampfunfähig gemacht. (31) [2 Abb.]: (1)Durch das deutsche Abwehrfeuer kampfunfähig gemachte und liegengebliebene Tanks. - Auf der linken Bildseite ist ein in den Graben seitlich abgerutschter Tank erkennbar. Ein anderer liegt im Trichtergelände (Bildmitte). Die kreisrunde Spur auf der rechten Bildseite läßt darauf schließen, daß sich hier ein Tank völlig um seine eigene Achse gedreht hat. (2)Die schwersten Kämpfe spielten sich im Bourlonwald westlich von Cambrai ab. - Ein durch Volltreffer vernichteter Tank. (32) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auf der großen Straße Bapaume - Cambrai drangen die englischen Tanks bis Fontaine, hart westlich Cambrai, vor. (2)Tankabwehrgeschütz in Feuerstellung. - Das leichte Geschütz erwies sich bis zum Kriegsende als bestes Tankabwehrmittel. (33) Die Große Schlacht in Frankreich und die Armentières-Offensive im Frühjahr 1918 (34) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine gewaltige Artillerie wurde bereitgestellt, um die Verteidigung zu lähmen. - Mörserbatterie geht in Stellung. (2)Die Geheimhaltung des Angriffsplanes war von entscheidender Wichtigkeit. - Gut getarntes deutsches Langrohrgeschütz. (34) [2 Abb.]: Oben und unten: Die Wirkung des straff zusammengefaßten deutschen Artillerie- und Minenwerferfeuers war außerordentlich stark; sie reichte meist aus, um der Infanterie den Durchbruch durch die feindlichen Stellungen zu ermöglichen. (35) [2 Abb.]: Oben und unten: Dicht hinter der Infanterie überschritt ein Teil der Artillerie die feindlichen Stellungen. Es bedurfte des Einsatzes alle Kräfte, um die Geschütze über das Gewirr der Gräben und Hindernisse hinwegzubringen. (36) [2 Abb.]: (1)Zum ersten Mal seit Herbst 1914 wurden auch die höheren Stäbe wieder beweglich. Divisionsstab auf dem Gefechtsfeld. (2)Das Kampffeld war bedeckt mit Schützenlinien und Kolonnen, die hinter dem weichenden Feind zur Verfolgung antraten. (37) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Marschkolonne in St. Quentin. (2)In Templeux. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Vor Ham. (2)Im alten Kampfgebiet der Somme. (39) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auch die hohen Stäbe mußten schließlich ihre Quartiere nach vorn verlegen. Quartierwechsel eines Armeekommandos. (2)Tausende von Geschützen und Minenwerfer fielen in die Hand der Deutschen. Sie säumten überall die Straßenränder. (40) [Abb.]: Unendliche Massen von Muntion und Kriegsgerät, die nicht geborgen werden konnten, bedeckten das weite Schlachtfeld. (41) [2 Abb.]: (1)In den eroberten englischen Magazinen fanden die ausgehungerten deutschen Soldaten reiche, hochwillkommenen Beute. (2)Auf dem Marktplatz in Ham. (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die englischen Gefangenen leisteten beim Rücktransport von Verwundeten aus der Kampflinie sehr erwünschte Hilfe. (2)Rast deutscher Truppen in Bethencourt. (43) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im eroberten Montdidier. Die Stadt, die bisher wenig gelitten hatte, geriet jetzt mitten in die Hauptkampfzone. (2In rastloser Verfolgung wurde das Sommeschlachtfeld des Jahres 1916 durchschritten. Schon gelangte der Angriff in ein Gebiet, das bisher vom Kampf noch kaum berührt war. - Kampfgelände bei Moreuil an der Avre, südöstlich Amiens. (44) [2 Abb.]: (1)Au & Noyon kam wieder in den Bereich der Kämpfe. Die herrliche Kathedrale geriet durch das Artilleriefeuer in Brand. (2)Endlich erlahmte die Kraft des deutschen Vormarsches an dem wachsenden Widerstand der in der letzten Minute unter den einheitlichen Oberbefehl Generals Foch gestellten feindlichen Armeen. - Der blutige Weg, der von St. Quentin bis dicht an Amiens herangeführt hatte, endete schließlich doch wieder in der hoffnungslosen Öde des Stellungskrieges. (45) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Bereitstellung der Truppen und das erste Vorgehen litten unter der Ungunst des tiefliegenden Angriffsgeländes. (2)Das während des Angriffs vergaste Armentières wurde am 11. April besetzt. - Deutsche Truppen auf dem Marktpatz. (46) [2 Abb.]: (1)Mitten zwischen den Häuserreihen der Stadt hatten die Engländer ihre sehr geschickt getarnten Batterien aufgestellt. (2)Estaires und Bailleut konnten noch genommen werden. Dann erlahmte die Offensive. - Fliegeraufnahme von Estaires. (47) [2 Abb.]: (1)Neue Dörfer sind emporgewachsen. Freundlich, als wüßten sie nichts mehr vom Krieg, grüßen sie aus der Landschaft. (2)Das Kriegsgerät findet heute vielfach Verwendung: Bunker dienen als Keller, Wellblechbaracken als Ställe. (48) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der eine deutsche Kriegerfriedhof auf der Vimyhöhe trägt schlichte schwarze Holzkreuze für 41 000 Gefallene. (2)Gegnüber leuchten in unendlichen Reihen die weißen Grabsteine der in fremder Erde ruhenden Söhne Großbritanniens. (49) [Abb.]: Das Ehrenmal, das deutsche Soldaten im Kriege ihren toten Kameraden in St. Quentin errichteten, steht nicht mehr. Aber die Dankbarkeit des Vaterlandes ist den an der Somme und Arras gebliebenen Söhnen gewiß. (50) [3 Karten]: (1)Somme-Aisne (2)Die Kämpfe bei Arras (3)Der französ.-engl. Angriff an der Somme 1916 ( - ) Die Aisne - Champagne - Front ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) [Abb.]: Die Kathedrale von Reims, eine der schönsten gotischen Kirchen Frankreichs, seit dem 12. Jahrhundert Krönungsstätte der französischen Könige, wurde im Weltkrieg durch Beschießung und Brand schwer beschädigt. Sie wird in ihrer alten Gestalt wieder hergestellt. (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Dinant. Auf steilem Felsen über dem Fluß liegt die veraltete Zitadelle, an ihrem Fuß erhebt sich die Kathedrale. (2)Givet. Die auf dem Westufer der Maas gelegenen Befestigungen ergaben sich rasch nach Einsatz schwerer Geschütze. (2) [2 Abb.]: (1)Sedan. Die Maashöhen beiderseits der Stadt konnten am 25. August 1914 erst nach hartem Gefecht genommen werden. (2)Charleville. Die Doppelstadt Charleville-Mézières war später jahrelang Sitz der deutschen Obersten Heeresleitung. (3) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Marsch der 3. Armee führte über Rethel. Die Stadt wurde teilweise zerstört. Die Kathedrale blieb unversehrt. (2)Die Festung Reims bereitete keinerlei Aufenthalt. - Rastende deutsche Truppen auf dem Platz vor der Kathedrale. (4) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die 4. Armee marschierte westlich der Argonnen über Vouziers. - Die Stadt wurde im letzten Kriegsjahr halb zerstört. (2)Am Schicksalsfluß, der Marne, wandte sich das Kriegsglück. Marnelandschaft zwischen Château Thierry und Epernay. (5) [3 Abb.]: (1)Rundbildaufnahme vom Ostrand des Argonner Waldes. Blickrichtung von Norden nach Süden. Am unteren Bildrand sind die durch die Kämpfe hervorgerufenen, quer durch den Wald sich hinziehenden Verwüstungen deutlich zu erkennen. (2)Um den steil über das umliegende Gelände emporragenden Vauquois, am Ostrand der Argonnen, wurde besonders heftig gekämpft. - Das Bild ist vom Westrand des Cheppywaldes aus aufgenommen. (3)Der Minenkrieg spielte in den Kämpfen um den Vauquois eine besondere Rolle. Der Gipfel des Berges war durch eine Kette der Minensprengungen vollkommen zerrissen. (6 -7) [2 Abb.]: (1)Varennes. - In dem wenige Kilometer hinter der Front gelegenen Städtchen liefen die Hauptverbindungen östlich der Argonnen zusammen. Es war auch Ausgangspunkt der wichtigsten Querstraße durch die Argonnen. (2)Ein gewaltiges Denkmal erinnert heute in Varennes an den amerikanischen Angriff zwischen den Argonnen und Verdun, der im Rahmen der allgemeinen Offensive der Entente hier im Herbst 1918 begann. (8) [2 Abb.]: (1)Außerhalb der wenigen Dörfer finden sich in dem Waldgebiet der Argonnen kaum irgendwelche menschlichen Ansiedlungen. Um einige in der Kampffront liegende Jagdhütten, "Pavillons" genannt, wurde besonders heftig gekämpft. (2)Französische Stellung am Bagatelle-Pavillon. Das ungemein dichte Unterholz in den Argonnen verlangte schärfste Aufmerksamkeit gegen überraschende Angriffe. (9) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Laufgräben im Minen- und Sprengtrichtergelände des Argonner Waldes. (2)Deutsche Reserven hinter der Front in Gegend Binarville. Unmittelbar neben dem Lager war ein Kriegerfriedhof. (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Besondere Sorgfalt mußte in dem stets feuchten Waldgelände auf den Bau guter Wege verwendet werden. - Die "Halberstädter Straße". (2)Der Weiler Le Four de Paris, eine wichtige Straßenkreuzung im Biesmetal, war Hauptziel der deutschen Angriffe. (11) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Aufgemauerte Stellung. - Die Aufnahme zeigt, mit welcher Sorgfalt die Gräben im Argonnerwald im Laufe der Jahre ausgebaut wurden. - (2)Unten: Hinter den französischen Linien: Quartierleben in einem halbzerstörten Dorf. (12) [2 Abb.]: (1)Heute deckt frisches Grün das Kampfgelände in den Argonnen. Der breite Streifen der Kampfzone ist an den jungen Baumbeständen noch deutlich sichtbar. Jahrzehnte werden vergeben, bis die Narben verheilt sind und der Wald wieder ein gleichmäßiges Bild zeigt. Einzelne abgestorbene Bäume erinnern noch an das Grauen des Krieges. (2)Geht man wenige Schritte vom Weg ab, dann birgt sich unter dem üppigen Wuchs der Pflanzen und Sträucher ein fast undurchdringliches Gewirr von Gräben, Draht, Betondrümmer und Esienstangen. Es scheint bisweilen, als hätten die Truppen dieses Gelände erst vor wenigen Monaten verlassen. (13) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Kampfgelände zwischen Moronvilliers und St. Souplet. - (2)Unten: Französische Reservestellungen bei Perthes. (14) [2 Abb.]: (1)Champagnelandschaft. Das Bild zeigt die Umgebung des aus den Heeresberichten bekannten Ortes Somme Py. (2)Der Stützpunkt "Ulm" bei Souain, wo den Franzosen in der Herbstschlacht in der Champagne ein Einbruch gelang. (15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Champagnerkämpfe: Luftbild vom Vorgehen französischer Reserven durch die Annäherungswege in den vordersten Linien. (2)Französisches Artilleriefeuer im Kampfgelände bei Souain. Die Sturmtruppen warten auf den Befehl zum Angriff. (16) [2 Abb.]: (1)Betonblockhaus am Mont Cornillet, der die Hügelkette Pöhlberg-Keilberg-Hochberg nach Westen zu abschließt. (2)Die gleiche Gegend im Jahr 1935. Die Landschaft zeigt auch heute, nach zwanzig Jahren, noch ein Bild der Verwüstung. (17) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rundbild aus Gegend nordwestlich Moronvilliers (etwa 15 km östlich Reims) nach Süden auf das Höhengelände des Poehlberges, Keilbergs und Hochbergs. Diese beherrschenden Höhen gingen in den Kämpfen im Frühjahr 1917 zum Teil an die Franzosen verloren. (2)Eine wichtige Rolle, besonders für die Artillerie, spielte weiter östlich bei Rouvroy-Massiges der Kanonenberg. - Das Bild ist vom Ballon nördlich Rouvroy mit dem Blick nach Süden aufgenommen und umfaßt den Raum von Minaucourt bis Ville sur Tourbe. (18 - 19) [3 Abb.]: (1)Blick aus Gegend Berru, östlich Reims, auf die Stadt. Im Vordergrund vor dem Wald ist ein Teil der Stellungen sichtbar. Hinter der Stadt steigen die Höhen des Reimser Bergwaldes empor, die ein nicht erreichtes Ziel der deutschen Offensive im Juli 1918 bildeten. (2)Das brennende Reims. - Der größte Teil der Stadt sowie die Kathedrale wurden durch die Kampfereignisse zerstört. (3)Fort Brimont nordöstlich Reims. Von hier aus verliefen die Stellungen hinter dem Aisne-Marnekanal auf Berry-au-Bac. (20 - 21) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick von den Höhen bei Crouy auf Soissons. Die Stadt lag ebenso wie Reims dicht vor den deutschen Linien und wurde stark zerstört. Im März 1917, bei dem Rückzug in die Siegfriedstellung, wurden die deutschen Linien hier bis Lauffaux zurückverlegt. (2)Rundbild von Höhe 109 nördlich Vailly auf das Aisnetal und die gegenüberliegenden Höhen. Dieser Teil des Kampffeldes ging bei der großen Nivelleoffensive im Frühjahr verloren. (22 - 23) [2 Abb.]: (1)Bis zum Frühjahr 1915 wies das hochgelegene Craonne, wie das Bild zeigt, nur ziemlich geringe Beschädigungen auf. (2)Zwei Jahre später, in der französischen Offensive im Frühjahr 1917, mußte es von den Deutschen preisgegeben werden. (24) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das berühmte Schloß Coucy le Château, nördlich Soissons, galt als eine der schönsten Burgruinen Frankreichs. Es mußte im Frühjahr 1917 gelegentlich des Rückzugs in die Siegfriedstellung aus taktischen Gründen niedergelegt werden. (2)Als im Sommer des Jahres 1918, während der Schlacht bei Soissons und Reims, der Chemin des Dames von den Deutschen zurückerobert wurde, kündeten nur noch schwache Mauerreste von den Dörfern Craonne und La Ville-aux-Bois. (25) [2 Abb.]: (1)Filain, am Nordhang des Chemin des Dames, das im Verlauf der Kämpfe des Jahres 1917/18 völlig zerstört wurde. (2)Blick auf die im Mai 1918 von den Deutschen gestürmten englischen Stellungen am Aisne-Kanal und bei Berry-au-Bac. (26) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick vom nordöstlichen Ufer der Ailette nach Süden auf den von den Deutschen Ende 1917 geräumten Chemin des Dames. (2)An den Abhängen des Chemin des Dames führen Steinbrüche tief in das Innere des Berges hinein. Die Höhlen, in denen ganze Bataillone und Regimenter Platz fanden, bildeten bombensichere Unterkunftsräume für die Kampfreserven. (27) [2 Abb.]: (1)Fernaufnahme vom Chemin des Dames aus nach Norden auf das hochgelegene Laon mit seiner mächtigen Kathedrale. (2)Blick von den Höhen bei Chermizy, nördlich der Ailette, aus auf den Chemin des Dames zwischen Cerny und La Creute. (28 - 29) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Sturmtruppen überschreiten auf Schnellbrücken den Ailettebach und stellen sich am Südufer zum Angriff bereit. (2)Offiziere beobachten von der Höhe nördlich Berry-au-Bac das Vorgehen der vordersten Angriffslinien gegen die Aisne. (30) [2 Abb.]: (1)Vor dem Befehl zum Antreten. (2)Der Sturmangriff: Die ersten Gefangenen. - Eines jener nicht häufigen Bilder, die in der vordersten Linie während des Sturmes aufgenommen sind, an die daher in technischer Hinsicht keine großen Ansprüche gestellt werden können. (31) [2 Abb.]: (1)Vorgehen deutscher Infanterie über den Chemin des Dames. - Ohne Aufenthalt erreichte die Strumgruppe das Aisnetal. (2)Ein Maschinengewehrtrupp eilt im Laufschritt zum jenseitigen Rand eines eben eroberten Dorfes. (32) [2 Abb.]: (1)Angriff unter dem Schutz von Nebelbomben auf ein vorher von der eigenen Artillerie sturmreif geschossenes Dorf. (2)Auf dem Weg zur Marne. - Vormarsch durch zerstörtes Gelände. (33) [2 Abb.]: (1)Aus dem Angriffsgelände bei Berry-au-Bac: deutsche Minenwerfer überschreiten die vordersten englischen Stellungen. (2)DerWinterberg bei Craonne nach dem Sturm. (34) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Reserven marschieren durch Craonelle (südlich Craonne), einen Hauptkampfpunkt auf dem Chemin des Dames. (2)Am Winterberg. (35) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Verluste des Feindes waren schwer. Lange Züge Gefangener wurden zurückgebracht. (2)Zusammengeschossene französische Artillerie. (36) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsches Feldlazarett im Schloß Pinon nördlich von Laffaux. (2)Ein Teil der Einwohner der Kampfzone war in den halbzerstörten Häusern geblieben. (37) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Stimmung der Truppe war glänzend. Sie glaubte, diesmal sei die Entscheidung errungen. (2)Die Schnelligkeit des deutschen Vormarsches hatte die gründliche zerstörung der Brücken verhindert. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im eroberten Soissons. Schwere Brände wüteten in den Ruinen der Stadt. (2)Auf dem Kirchplatz in Cormicy, südwestlich von Berry-au-Bac. (39) [Abb.]: Immer größer wurde die Beute an Gefangenen und Kriegsmaterial. Gefangenentransport in der Zitadelle von Laon. (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)Am Abend des ersten Angriffstages standen die deutschen Truppen in Fismes an der Vesle. (2)Kurze Rast. - Die Anstrengungen der Truppen, die teilweise über 25 km zurückgelegt hatten, war außerordentlich. (41) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auch an der Vesle vermochten die Franzosen sich nicht zu halten. Die Verfolgung ging südlich des Flusses weiter. (2)Divisionsstab auf dem Gefechtsstand. (42) [2 Abb]: (1)Hinter der Kampffront: Der Verwundetentransport nach der Verwundetensammelstelle erfolgte oft durch Gefangene. (2)Schwere Batterie auf dem Vormarsch. (43) [3 Abb.]: (1)Blick von den Höhen bei Troissy am Südufer der Marne auf das Nordufer. An dieser Stelle erzwangen deutsche Truppen im Verlauf der mit einem Mißerfolg endenden letzten deutschen Offensive beiderseits Reims im Juli 1918 den Übergang über den Fluß. (2)Vincelles an der Marne im feindlichen Artilleriefeuer. Hinter dem Dorf ist die Marne sichtbar. (3)Auf der Straße nach Château Thierry. (44 - 45) [Abb.]: Auf dem Chemin des Dames erinnern heute nur noch wenige Trümmer an den Krieg. - Betonklotz im Fort de Malmaison. (46) [2 Karten]: Aisne und Champagne. (1)Aisne: (2)Champagne: ( - ) [Karte]: Nordfrankreich ( - ) Der Kampfraum Verdun ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) Die lothringische Landschaft (1) [Abb.]: Umgebung von Dieuze. In dieser Landschaft spielte sich im August 1914 die Lothringer Schlacht ab. - Hinter der Stadt (Mitte) ist der Linderweiher erkennbar. Am Horizont die Vogesen. - Dieuze war vor dem Kriege Grenzgarnison. (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Mörchingen, an der Bahn Salzburg - Metz. Auch dieses Gelände zeigt die charakteristischen Merkmale der lothringischen Landschaft: Flache, weitgestreckte Hügel, Waldparzellen zwischen den Feldern und Wiesen, spärliche Besiedlung. (2)Der Gedanke, Frankreich durch einen Gürtel von Befestigungen abzuschließen, ist alt. Marsal ist eine der vielen unter Ludwig XIV. erbauten Grenzfestungen, die schon längst vor dem Weltkrieg ihren militärischen Wert völlig verloren hatten. (2) [2 Abb.]: (1)An der elsaß-lothringischen Grenze stießen die Grenzkorps frühzeitig aufeinander. Bei dem am Rhein - Marne-Kanal liegenden Lagarde erfochten preußische und bayerische Truppen am 11. August 1914 einen der ersten deutschen Siege. (2)Im südlichen Teil der lothringischen Front zogen sich die Stellungen in den Nordausläufern der französischen Vogesen von Blâmont über Badonviller nach Moyenmoutier. - Vorgeschobener deutscher Posten in den französischen Nordvogesen. (3) [2 Abb.]: (1)Lothringen war ein römisches Siedlungsland. - Reste der nach Metz führenden alten Wasserleitung in Jouy aux Arches. (2)Das Moseltal zwischen Ars und Metz. Das Bild läßt die Lage von Metz zwischen den zu beiden Seiten des Flusses ansteigenden Höhen erkennen, die die alten Befestigungen trugen. Die modernen Werke lagen in weiter Entfernung der Stadt. (4) Der Mihielbogen (5) [2 Abb.]: (1)Landschaft bei Pont à Mousson. Das Bild vom heiß umkämpften Priesterwald nordwestlich der Stadt aufgenommen. (2)Über Pont à Mousson erhebt sich steil und beherrschend die Moussonhöhe, ein Wahrzeichen der dortigen Landschaft. (5) [3 Abb.]: (1)Kampfgelände im Priesterwald. Im Hintergrund zwischen den Bäumen ist das Moseltal bei Pont à Mousson erkennbar. Auf der linken Bildseite der Moussonberg. (2)Am Wald von Apremont. Das Gelände zeigt hier bereits die für die Côtes Lorraines eigentümlichen Bergvorsprünge. (3)Mörserstellung bei St. Mihiel. Das den felsigen Boden bedeckende Gestrüpp erleichterte die Maskierung der Geschütze. (6 - 7) [2 Abb.]: (1)St. Mihiel. Die deutschen Stellungen reichten nur in einer ganz schmalen Ausbuchtung auf das westliche Maasufer hinüber. (2)Das auf dem Ostufer der Maas über St. Mihiel gelegene Sperrfort Camp des Romains wurde nach kurzer Beschießung aus schwerem Geschütz von den Bayern im Handstreich genommen, eine der glänzendsten Waffentaten des Weltkrieges. (8) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die auf das westliche Maasufer vorgeschobene Stellung konnte bis zum Herbst 1918 behauptet werden - Auf den Höhen im Hintergrunde liegt das Nachbarsperrfort Les Paroches, vor dem der Vorstoß im Herbst 1914 zum Stehen kam. (2)Die Festung Toul, 20 Kilometer südlich der Südfront des Mihielbogens gelegen, geriet nie in den unmittelbaren Bereich der Kämpfe. - Die Fliegeraufnahme zeigt das Stadtbild im Rahmen der alten Vaubanschen Stadtbefestigungen. (9) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auf einem der zahlreichen Bergvorsprünge der Côte liegt Hattonchâtel. Das Bild gibt den Blick nach Süden. Im Vordergrund Vigneulles. Der einzelne Berg im Hintergrund ist der in den Kämpfen um den Mihielbogen oft genannte Mont Sec. (2)Das die Ebene weithin beherrschende Hattonchâtel fiel den Bayern im September 1914 ohne ernste Kämpfe in die Hände. Die Baulichkeiten weisen weit in die Vergangenheit zurück. (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Thiaucourt, halbwegs zwischen St. Mihiel und Metz in der Ebene gelegen, war der Hauptverkehrspunkt des Mihielbogens. (2)Pannes bei Flirey. Typ eines französisch-lothringischen Bauernhofs romanischer Bauart: Breite Straßen, eng aneinandergebaute Häuser, flache Dächer. (11) [3 Abb.]: (1)Die Combreshöhe vom Westausgang des Dorfes Saulx, also aus genau östlicher Richtung gesehen. Die deutschen Stellungen lagen auf dem Kamm und führten von "Combres Ost" in die Ebene hinab. Der Montgirmont war in französischem Besitz. - Jeder Fußbreit Boden war hier von größter Bedeutung. (2)Senkrechte Fliegeraufnahme der Höhe Combres Ost und des Dorfes Combres. Die Kämpfe um den Berg fanden auf den Nordwesthängen statt. Hier liegen auch die von den deutschen und französischen Sprengungen herrührenden Minentrichter. (3)Schräge Fliegeraufnahme der Combreshöhe im Augenblick einer Minensprengung. Die Eingänge der Sprengstellen führenden Minenstollen liegen, wie auf dem Bild erkennbar ist, auf dem diesseitigen Hange der Höhe. (12 - 13) Die Woëvre-Ebene. (14 - 15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rundbildaufnahme der Côte von Broville, 5 km westlich Etain aus gesehen. Der Ausschnitt umfaßt den Höhenrand zwischen der waldigen Kuppe des Hardaumont und der Straße Etain - Verdun. Die Aufnahme ist nach Abschluß der großen Verdunkämpfe im Mai 1917 gemacht. - Man blickt in das teifeingeschnittene, zwischen den Forts Douaumont und Vaux gelegene Vauxtal, um dessen Besitz im Jahr 1916 monatelang mit unvorstellbarer Erbitterung gekämpft wurde. (2)Dieser ganz der Woëvre-Ebene zugeordnete Abschnitt lag außerhalb der entscheidenden Kämpfe. Die beherrschende Lage der Côtes wird hier deutlich erkennbar. (14 - 15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Etain bildet den Mittelpunkt des nordöstlichen Woëvre-Gebiets. Es wurde im Laufe des Krieges fast völlig zerstört. (2)In den Dörfern wenige Kilometer hinter der Kampffront atmete die Landschaft eine fast unwahrscheinliche Ruhe. (16) [2 Abb.]: (1)Constans, ein Etappenort zwischen Etain und Metz. - Der Posten übt, wie das neben dem Schilderhaus erkennbare Schild "Hat" zeigt, die den rückwärtigen Gebieten oft sehr notwendige Kontrolle über den Kraftwagenverkehr aus. (2)Briey. Seine Besetzung durch die Deutschen bedeutete einen schweren Verlust für die französische Kriegswirtschaft. (17) Die Nordostfront von Verdun (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die kleine Festung Longwy bildete neben Briey den Mittelpunkt des französisch-lothringischen Erzgebietes. Hier erfocht die 5. Armee ihren ersten Sieg. Die veralteten Befestigungen fielen nach kurzer Beschießung in deutsche Hand. (2)Montmédy, einer der wichtigsten Etappenorte an der Nordfront, war angefüllt mit Einrichtungen der Heeresverwaltung. Das auf die Straße verlegte Eisenbahngleis diente zur Umgehung des von den Franzosen gesprengten Eisenbahntunnels. (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Dun, malerisch am rechten Ufer der Maas nördlich von Verdun gelegen, war ein wichtiger Übergangspunkt für den Verkehr der Truppen und Kolonnen zwischen den beiden Maasufern. (2)Das nahe hinter der Front gelegene Städtchen Marville bedeutete für zahlreiche Verdunkämpfer eine Erinnerung. (19) [2 Abb.]: (1)Moirey, südlich Damvillers, lag in der Kampfzone vor Beginn der großen Kämpfe des Jahres 1916. Im Hintergrund der Gündelberg, der als günstiger Beobachtungsposten eine Rolle spielte. (2)Straße in dem ebenfalls am Fuße des Gündelberges gelegenen Dorfe Chaumont. (20) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die unzähligen Verdunkämpfer bekannte Straßenkreuzung in Ville; von hier zweigten mehrere Wege nach vorn ab. (2)Deutsche Truppenlager am Berge Morimont unweit des am Rande der Woëvreebene gelgene Romagne sous les Côtes. (21) [2 Abb.]: (1)Brabant an der Maas. Hier ging im Februar 1916 der rechte Flügel des deutschen Angriffs vor. (2)Französische Gefangene aus den Verdun-Kämpfen. (22) [2 Abb.]: (1)Flabas, ein etwa in der Mitte der Angriffsfront liegender Ort. (2)Auf der anderen Seite: Rastende französische Truppe im Kampfgelände von Verdun. (23) [Abb.]: Verdun war die erste der großen Materialschlachten des Weltkrieges, bei denen durch Masseneinsatz von Artillerie die Entscheidung erzwungen werden sollte. Alle Geschützarten, von der Schützengrabenkolonne bis zum großkalibrigen, weittragenden Eisenbahngeschütz, gelangten hier zum Einsatz. - 21-cm-Mörser unmittelbar nach dem Abfeuern. (24) [2 Abb.]: (1)Am 21. Februar 1916 drangen die deutschen Sturmtruppen in glänzendem Anlauf tief in die feindlichen Stellungen ein. (2)Gegen die Durchschlagskraft der schweren Kaliber schützten die stärksten Eindeckungen nichts: Ein Volltreffer in einen mit dicken Stämmen eingedeckten Unterstand. (25) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Wälder in der Kampfzone wurden fast völlig vernichtet. Nur einzelne Baumstümpfe blieben übrig. - Der Chaumewald am Südrand der Ornesschlucht. (2)Die im nördlichen Teil des Angriffsgebietes liegenden Ortschaften wurden im ersten Angriff rasch durchschritten. Hier blieben wenigstens noch Trümmer stehen. - Kirche in Ornes, die in ihrem damaligen Zustand bis heute belassen ist. (26) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das weit ins Hinterland reichende Feuer der Fernkampfgeschütze erfaßte mehrfach Munitionszüge. Die Munitionsvorräte wurden hierbei meist vernichtet. (2)In der Wüste des Schlachtfeldes blieben mitunter durch merkwürdigen Zufall einzelne Heiligenbilder unversehrt. Da die Soldaten stets eifrig bemüht waren, sie zu erhalten, standen manche von ihnen noch am Ende des Krieges. (27) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben und unten: Von Ornes aus zieht sich die Ornesschlucht in das Kampfgelände nach Westen. Auf dem von Granaten zerwühlten Talgrund entstand ein Schlammboden, der stellenweise nur noch auf Brückenstegen überschritten werden konnte. (28) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Vauxkreuzschlucht führt von Ornes nach Südwesten zu einer auf der Landkarte als "Vauxkreuz" bezeichneten Höhe. (2)Grémilly, am Rande der Côtes gelegen. Von hier aus etwa ging der linke Flügel des Angriffs im Februar 1916 vor. (29) Douaumont und Vaux. (30 - 31) [3 Abb.]: (1)Französische Aufnahme des Douaumont von Südwesten her. Das Fort ist durch das Feuer schon fast unkenntlich geworden. (2)Trümmer des in der Mitte des Angriffsfeldes gelegenen Ortes Louvemont, der längere Zeit heiß umkämpft war. (3)Blick vom Douaumont in südwestlicher Richtung nach Thiaumont und Froide Terre. Das Bild ist während der Beschießung unter erschwerten Umständen aufgenommen. Es gibt trotz technischer Mängel einen unmittelbaren Eindruck des Kampfgeländes. (30 - 31) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Fort Douaumont, wie es der Flieger Anfang 1916 sah, zu einer Zeit, als die Schlacht noch nicht begonnen hatte. (2)Eine spätere Aufnahme des Forts Douaumont, nachdem bereits monatelang das schwerste Feuer auf ihm gelegen hatte. (32) [2 Abb.]: (1)Französische Aufnahme des Forts Douaumont vom Beginn des Jahres 1916. Man sieht die noch gut erhaltene Kehlkaserne. Links im Schatten der innere Graben. Auf dessen Grunde liegt die durch einen Tunnel in das Fort führende Einfahrt. (2)Blick vom östlichen (rechten) Schulterpunkt des Forts Douaumont in den auf der rechten Flanke entlang führenden Graben. (33) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rundbild von der Höhe 378 östlich Louvemont auf einen Teil der Forts der Nordostfront. Man sieht von rechts nach links das erst später eroberte Zwischenwerk Thiaumont auf der Côte de Froide Terre; dann das mehrere Kilometer südlich liegende Fort zweiter Linie Souville, schließlich das Dorf und Fort Douaumont. Das Bild ist nach der Schlacht von Verdun im Frühjahr 1917 aufgenommen. (2)Anfang März griffen die Kämpfe auch auf das westliche Maasufer über. Das von Höhe 165 am Westufer der Maas, östlich des Cumieres Waldes, aufgenommene Rundbild gibt einen Überblick über das Hauptkampfgelände auf dem Westufer: Cumières-Wald- (rechts) - Toter Mann - Wälder zwischen Avaucourt und Béthelainville (Hessenwald). Im Vordergrunde das Maastal. (34 - 35) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Deutsche Soldaten im Hauptgang des Untergeschosses des Fort Douaumont. Das Bild gibt eine Vorstellung davon, unter welchen Umständen die Fortbesetzung zu Ruhe und Schlaf gelangte. (2)Unten: Französisches Geschütz zur Bestreichung des Grabens der linken Flanke im Fort Douaumont. Die Mauer nach dem Graben zu ist teilweise zerstört. Im Dunkel des Hintergrundes liegt der Eingang zu einem anschließenden Hohlraum. (36) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutscher M. G.-Schütze an einem französischen Maschinengewehr in einer der Grabenstreichen des Forts Douaumont. Der Mann hat es sich auf seinem gefährlichen Sitz, auf dem er in schärfster Anspannung stundenlang hocken muß, so bequem wie möglich gemacht; Munition und Verpflegung sind in ausreichenden Mengen rings um ihn aufgebaut. (2)Unten: Als die Franzosen im Herbst 1916 bei Verdun zur Gegenoffensive schritten, gelang es ihnen, das Fort Douaumont zurückzuerobern. - Das aus dem Januar 1917 stammende französische Bild zeigt, daß die Kämpfe um das Fort um diese Zeit endgültig abgeschlossen waren und daß bereits wieder ein regelrechter Kantinenbetrieb in ihm stattfand. (37) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ein Kasemattenraum im Fort Douaumont (heutiger Zustand), in dem durch eine gewaltige Handgranatenexplosion am 8. Mai 1916 hunderte von deutschen Soldaten ums Leben kamen. Das es unmöglich war, die Toten im Fort regelrecht zu begraben, beließ man sie im Hohlraum und mauerte dessen Zugänge zu (2)Das Fort Douaumont im Jahre 1917 nach Abschluß der Kämpfe. Die Umrisse des Forts sind nur noch schwach zu erkennen. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Nicht weniger heiß umstritten als der Douaumont war das Fort Vaux, das durch seine Lage als Eckpunkt der Nordfront und der Ostfront von Verdun besondere Bedeutung besaß. Das Bild gibt das Gelände am Rande der Côtes vom Fort Vaux (links oben) über die "Hohe Batterie" (Mitte) bis zum Zwischenwerk Lauffée (rechts unten) (2)Die Rückseite des Forts Vaux im März 1917, nach seiner Wiedereinnahme durch die Franzosen. Die auf dem Bild erkennbare gewaltige Stärke der Betondecke macht es erklärlich, daß die Wirkung der schwersten Geschosse hier versagte. (39) [Abb.]: In dem Fort Vaux war eine Art Kapelle eingerichtet, die man in ihrem damaligen Zustande bis heute erhalten hat. (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)Fliegeraufnahme der Vaux-Schlucht (vergl. auch die Bilder auf S. 26/27), die sich zwischen den Douaumont und dem Fort Vaux hinzieht. Sie gehört zu den blutigsten Kampffeldern des Weltkrieges. - Von dem verschwundenen Dorf Vaux (rechte untere Ecke) führt die Schlucht zum Vaux-Teich und gabelt sich hier in mehrere Seitentäler, an deren Hängen Waldstücke lagen: der Caillette-Wald (oben rechts), der Chapitre-Wald oben links), das Fumin-Wäldchen (unten links). (2)Die Vaux-Schlucht in ihrem heutigen Zustand. Im Vordergrund der Vaux-Teich. Die Trichter sind völlig zugewachsen. (41) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Dorf Fleury (Bildmitte), das nach schweren Kämpfen erst Ende Juni erobert wurde, bildete ungefähr den äußersten von den Deutschen in der Verdunoffensive 1916 erreichten Punkt. - Die auf der rechten Bildseite nach rechts oben zusammenlaufenden Mulden umschließen den Chapitre-Wald und endigen in ihrem weiteren Verlauf in der Vaux-Schlucht. (2)Das Fort Tavannes, südlich von Fort Vaux, lag bereits an der äußersten Grenze der Hauptkampfzone. Sein Zustand zu Beginn des Jahres 1917 läßt erkennen, daß es nicht so im Brennpunkt der Kämpfe stand, wie Douaumont und Vaux. (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Fliegeraufnahme von Verdun. Die Stadt war halb zerstört. Die alten Vaubanschen Befestigungsanlagen treten deutlich hervor. - Verdun und seine Umgebung gilt seit den Kämpfen des Jahres 1916 den Franzosen als heiliger Bezirk. (2)Kronprinz Wilhelm, der als Oberbefehlshaber der 5. Armee die Verdunkämpfe befehligte, im Gespräch mit Verwundeten. (43) Das westliche Maasufer (44) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oberes Bild: Im Rabenwald östlich vom Toten Mann. (2)Unten: Das Dorf Malancourt auf dem westlichen Maasufer, das im März 1916 gegen zäheste französische Verteidigung genommen wurde. (44) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Montfaucon bot einen glänzenden Überblick über die Nordwestfront von Verdun zwischen den Argonnen und der Maas. Es war hier der wichtigste Beobachtungspunkt der deutschen Artillerie. - Kirche von Montfaucon im Oktober 1915. (2)Der Ort Montfaucon nach seiner Eroberung durch amerikanische Truppen während der Herbstoffensive der Entente 1918. (45) [2 Abb.]: (1)Inmitten grüner Wiesen starren dem Wanderer die dunklen Schießscharten mächtiger Maschinengewehrstände entgegen. (2)Die Combreshöhen, wie man sie heute sieht. Die Gipfel sind noch immer zerrissen durch die riesigen Minentrichter. (46) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Lage der einstigen blühenden Ortschaft Fleury ist heute nur noch durch ein einfaches Denkmal zu erkennen. (2)Gedenkhalle über dem "Graben der Bajonette" bei Fort Douaumont, in dem eine ganze französische Kompanie verschüttet wurde, deren Bajonette aus der Erde ragen. - Dieser Graben gilt als heiliges Symbol der Verdunkämpfe. (47) [Abb.]: Wie friedliche Teiche und Tümpel wirken heute die Granattrichter auf den Höhen rings um Verdun, ganz überwuchert von Gebüsch, Gras und Schilf. Aber noch viele Jahrzehnte werden sie ein Mahnzeichen sein für die Toten von Verdun. (48) [2 Karten]: (1Chamapagne-Woëvre (2)Verdun ( - ) Vogesenkrieg ( - ) Vogesenkrieg ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) [Abb.]: Das Staßburger Münster, ein Meisterwerk deutscher Gotik. - Straßburg, nach Metz die stärkste Festung an der Westgrenze, blieb im Weltkrieg von den Kriegsvorgängen fast unberührt. Die mehrfachen Einfälle der Franzosen in das Oberelsaß gelangten nicht bis zum Bereich der Festungsgeschütze. - Als Landeshauptstadt und Hauptetappenort war die Stadt fast allen deutschen Soldaten, die im Elsaß gekämpft haben, wohlbekannt. (15) [3 Abb.]: (1)Blick von der Ebene aus gegen die Hohkönigsburg. Im Vordergrund der Flugplatz. - Die Hohkönigsburg, eine der schönsten Burgen des Elsaß, mit mächtigem Bergfried, liegt westlich von Schlettstadt auf einem steil emporragenden Bergkegel. Einst Hohenstaufenburg, wurde die Hohkönigsburg im Dreißigjährigen Krieg von den Schweden zerstört. 1901 wurde im Auftrag Kaiser Wilhelms mit ihrem Wiederaufbau begonnen. Zu Beginn des Weltkrieges war sie in ihrem ursprünglichen Zustand völlig wieder hergestellt. (2)Deutsche Vogesenlandschaft in Gegend Markirch. Die Vogesen verlaufen in einer nur durch wenige Einsenkungen und Paßübergänge unterbrochenen Kette langgestreckter Kämme aus verwittertem Granit, die sich von Süden nach Norden hinziehen. Von ihnen abzweigende Seitenkämme bilden nach der Rheinebene zu tief eingeschnittene Täler. (3)Blick vom Hartmannsweilerkopf in die Rheinebene. - Die Vogesen fallen nach dem Rheintal ziemlich steil ab. Der untere Teil der Berghänge ist bedeckt mit Weinbergen; dahinter liegt eine fruchtbare Landschaft mit Ackerbau und Laubwäldern, durchströmt vom Rhein (im oberen Bilddrittel als seine Linie erkennbar). Jenseits die Schwarzwaldberge. (16 - 17) [2 Abb.]: (1)Elsässisches Bauerndorf alemannischer Bauart: Dorfstraße in dem durch das Jugenderlebnis Goethes berühmt gewordenen Sesenheim, unweit Straßburg. Einzelstehende Gehöfte, von Gärten umgeben; Fachwerkbau und herabgezogene Dächer (2)Zum Vergleich ein lothringisches Bauerndorf (Autrepierre) typisch romanischer Bauart: Breite Straße mit geschlossenen Häuserfronten; reiner Steinbau. Wohn- und Wirtschaftsräume unter einem einzigen, flach geneigten Dach. Fehlen von Vorgärten, statt dessen häufig vor den Häusern die Dungablagerung. Rundgewölbte Torbögen führen zum Stall und zum Hof. (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Elsässische Landstadt deutscher Bauart: Marktplatz in Oberehnheim (Unterelsaß. - Ein mittelalterliches Stadtbild mit Erkern und Türmchen, mit spitzgiebeligen steilen Dächern und schönem Brunnen. Die staatlichen Häuser lassen auf den ehemaligen Reichtum Oberehnheims schließen, das, wie viele andere dieser elsässischen Landstädtchen, schon zur Stauferzeit freie Reichsstadt war. (2)Zum Unterschied eine lothringische Landschaft in charakteristisch romanischer Bauart: Blaâmont in den französischen Vogesen. (19) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auf Patrouillenritt. (2)Unten: Infanteriepatrouille im Vormarsch an den Berghängen des Münstertals bei Drei-Ahren, westlich Colmar. (20) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Infanterie verfolgt den in die Vogesen zurückgeworfenen Feind. (2)Unten: Artillerie im Vormarsch auf einer Vogesenstraße. (21) [2 Abb.]: (1)Längs der deutsch-schweizerischen Grenze führte ein elektrisch geladener Drahtzaun von der Gegend von Nieder- und Obersept zum Rhein nördlich Basel. (2)Unten Eroberte französische Gräben bei Niedersept. (22) [2 Abb.]: (1)Altkirch, südwestlich Mühlhausen. Das altertümliche Städtchen lag nur wenige Kilometer hinter den deutschen Stellungen. (2)Unten: Kirche von Nieder-Aspach. (23) [3 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Der Übergang von der Burgundischen Pforte zu den Südvogesen. Charakteristisch auch hier das unvermittelte Ansteigen des Gebirges aus der Ebene. (2)Unten: Auf den Berghängen hinter Altthann überhöhten die rückwärtigen Stellungen der Franzosen die deutschen Gräben. (3)Unten: Die Stadt Thann, Hauptort des Thurtales, mit gotischem Münster lag bereits hinter den französischen Stellungen. (24 - 25) [Abb.]: Rundbild Hartmannsweilerkopf - Molkenrain. Der Hartmannsweilerkopf steigt aus der Rheinebene fast ohne Übergang zu einer Höhe von 950 m auf. Er wird vom Molkenrain noch um fast 200 m überragt. Die deutschen und französischen Stellungen führten von Süden an den Hängen empor zum Gipfel und zogen sich dann in die Vogesen hinein. Die ersten Kämpfe um den Hartmannsweilerkopf spielten im Januar 1915 ab. Sie brachten die Deutschen in den Besitz zuerst des vorgelagerten Hirzsteins und dann des Berggipfels selbst. - Im März ging der Sattel zwischen Wolkenrain und Hartmannsweilerkopf und dann dieser selbst wieder verloren. Im April wurde der Rehfelsen und Aussichtsfelsen zurückgewonnen. Die Spitze des Berges lag unbesetzt zwischen den beiderseitigen Stellungen. - Noch einmal entbrannten um die Jahreswende 1915/16 um den Besitz des Berges überaus schwere und sehr wechselvolle Kämpfe, bei deren Abschluß die deutschen Truppen im Besitz des Hirzsteins und des Rehfelsens blieben. (26 - 27) [Abb.]: Blick vom Hartmannsweilerkopf auf die von den Franzosen besetzten Höhen des Sudelkopfes und des Großen Belchen. (28) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Stadt Sennheim, südlich vom Hartmannsweilerkopf am Eingang zum Thurtal, lag unmittelbar hinter der vordersten deutschen Linie. Bei den Kämpfen um den "H. R." hatte sie besonders schwer zu leiden. (2)Unten: Der Hartmannsweilerkopf. (29) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Hirzstein, ein Felsgipfel am Hang des Hartmannsweilerkopfes, um den in den Jahren 1915 und 1916 heftig gekämpft wurde und der mehrfach den Besitzer wechselte. Erst nach sehr blutigem Ringen kam er endgültig in deutsche Hand. - Die Stellungen verliefen am Hange hart jenseits des Felsgipfels zum Hartmannsweilerkopf hinauf. (2)Fliegeraufnahme der französischen Stellungen im Sattel zwischen Molkenrain und dem Hartmannsweilerkopf. Dieser Sattel befand sich im Frühjahr 1915 nur vorübergehend im deutschen Besitz, konnte aber nicht gehalten werden. - Die feinen schrägen Striche sind Schatten der Baumstümpfe. Die oberen Bergränder (oben rechts und links) sind fast völlig kahl geschossen; die abwärts ins Tal führenden Hänge (Mitte unten) zeigen geringere Spuren der Zerstörung. (30) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Die "Serpentinenstraße", die in vielen Windungen aus der Ebene bis fast zum Gipfel des Hartmannsweilerkopfes hinaufführte, wurde während der schweren Kämpfe des Jahres 1915 gebaut. - (2)Unten: Stollen im Rehfelsen auf dem Hartmannsweilerkopf. Das Bild gibt die Stimmung der Mannschaften sehr eindrucksvoll wieder. (31) [2 Abb.]: (1)Geschützfeuer auf die Kampfgräben des Hartmannsweilerkopfes. Im Hintergrund der Sudelkopf und der Große Belchen. (2)Unten: Am Hange des Hartmannsweilerkopfes. Vom hochstämmigen Walde ragen nur noch nackte Stümpfe empor. (32) [Abb.]: Die "Felsenkaserne" auf dem Hartmannsweilerkopf. Die meterdicke Stein- und Betondecke und die Lage des Unterstandes am stark geneigten Hange gewährten sicheren Schutz selbst gegen schwerstes Steilfeuer. (33) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der "Aussichtsfelsen", eine Felskuppe am oberen Hange des Hartmannsweilerkopfes. Man hatte von diesem beherrschenden Punkt aus einen umfassenden Überblick über das südliche Elsaß von der Schweizer Grenze bis hinauf nach Colmar. (2)Unten: Das berühmte Jägerdenkmal auf dem Hartmannsweilerkopf mit seinen bronzenen Erinnerungstafeln und den Trophäen aus vielen Kämpfen. Es lag so geschützt, daß das feindliche Geschütz- und Minenfeuer ihm nichts anhaben konnte. (34) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auf einer Zwischenstation der am Hange des Hartmannsweilerkopfes in dem Jahre 1915 gebauten Drahtseilbahn. Sie spielte bei der Beförderung der gewaltigen Mengen von Munition und Proviant eine wichtige Rolle. (2)Unten: Am Rehfelsen. Der Besitz der Felsengruppe entschied über die Behauptung des Hartmannsweilerkopfes. Um sie wurde am erbittersten gekämpft. Wiederholt ging sie verloren. Erst seit dem Januar 1916 war sie fest in deutscher Hand. - Von größter Wichtigkeit war die "Serpentinenstraße", die hier endete, da sie einen gedeckten Anmarsch für die Mannschaften und seine sichere Zufürhung des Kampfgeräts ermöglichte. (35) [3 Abb.]: (1)Ballonaufnahme der Stellungen aus dem Kampfraum beiderseits des Hilfenfirst zwischen Sondernach und Linthal. (2)Unten: Blick von den deutschen Stellungen auf den Hilfenfirst in die Vogesen. (3)Unten: Unterstände am Hange des Hilfenfirst. (36 - 37) [Abb.]: Ruhiger Stellungskrieg im Gebirgswald; ein sehr friedlich anmutendes Bild, das für sich selbst spricht. - Ganz schwieg der Kampf freilich auch in den ruhigsten Vogesenstellungen nie. Immer stand der Beobachtungsposten schußbereit am Grabenrand und beobachtete durch das Zielfernrohrgewehr jede Bewegung in den feindlichen Gräben. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im Reservegraben. Die Stellungen in den Vogesen waren meist so vorzüglich ausgebaut, daß sie den Mannschaften in den Zeiten der Ruhe einen ganz behaglichen Aufenthalt boten. (2)Unten: Hinter der Front. Pferdetränken auf dem Marktplatz einer kleinen Vogesenstadt. (39) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine "chinesische Mauer". - Ein eigenartiges Beispiel dafür, zu welchen Formen des Stellungsbaues man in den Hochvogesen gelangte. Meterdicke Betonwände sicherten gegen feindliches Flankenfeuer, das von irgend einer fernliegenden Höhe her den rückwärtigen Verkehr an dieser einzusehenden Stelle belästigte. - Die geköpften Bäume lassen erkennen, daß hier eine Drahtseilbahn zu Tal geführt hat. (2)Die Minenwerfer spielten im Gebirgskrieg eine besonders wichtige Rolle. - Mit Wurfminen konnte man, infolge der starken Krümmung ihrer Flugbahn, auch hinter steile Deckungen fassen und Ziele erreichen, die für Geschütze im "toten Winkel" lagen. (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Essenempfang im winterlichen Hochwalde. (2)Unten: Kompanieschuster und -schneider konnten ihre "Handwerksstube" an schönen Sommertagen dicht hinter der Stellung mitten im Walde aufschlagen. (41) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Stellungen zwischen Mühlbach - Reichsackerkopf - Stoßweier. (2)Unten: Blick auf den Grenzkamm, nördlich Stoßweier, bis zum Weißen See. (42 - 43) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Münster, der Hauptort des Fechttals, das sich von Colmar aus in die Vogesen hinaufzieht. Die Stadt liegt hart östlich des Reichsackerkopfes. - (2)Unten: Deutsche Stellungen im Kampfgebiet des Reichsackerkopfes. (44) [Abb.]: Stoßweier, am Nordfuß des Reichsackerkopfes. Das Dorf lag mitten zwischen den beiden Stellungen. Deutsche wie französische Gräben liefen durch den Ort, ohne daß es einer der beiden Parteien gelang, sich völlig in seinen Besitz zu setzen. - Die Aufnahme stammt noch aus dem Jahre 1915. Das Dorf wurde später ganz zusammengeschossen. (45) [3 Abb.]: (1)Blick von der Bludenberghöhe (Bressoir) gegen den Grenzgebirgskamm zwischen Markirch und Diedolshausen. Die Stellungen liefen hier genau längs der Grenze. Die französischen Gräben sind auf den kahlgeschossenen Hängen jenseits des Tals zu erkennen. (2)Blick vom Hansfelsen über den Weißen See. - Ein einsamer, in großartiger Landschaft zwischen schroffen Felsenwänden eingebetteter Hochgebirgssee zwischen Diedolshausen und Münster. Unweit daneben der Schwarze Seer. (3)Felslandschaft in der Nähe des über 1300 m hohen Hohneck (westlich Münster, südlich des Schluchtpasses). Der alpine Charakter der Südvogesen mit seinen vielfach kahlen, waldlosen Gipfeln und Bergmatten tritt hier bereits in Erscheinung. (46 - 47) [2 Abb.]: (1)Stadttor in Türkheim, einem der berühmtesten Weinorte des Elsaß ("Türkenblut"). Das Tor ist ein gutes Beispiel mittelalterlicher Elsässer Bauart, deren deutscher Charakter klar zu Tage tritt. (2)Unten: Kaysersberg. Das Städtchen liegt, von alten Türmen und Mauern umgeben, malerisch am Eingang zu dem nach Schnierlach und Diedolshausen führenden Weißbachtal. (48) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Kaysersberger Burg, eine der schönsten Ruinen des Elsaß. (2)Unten: Im Weißbachtal. (49) [3 Abb.]: (1)Colmar, am Eingang zum Münstertal gelegen, gehört zu den schönsten Städten des Rheintales. Blick gegen die Vogesen. (2)Schlettstadt mit dem Münster St. Georg. Die Stadt, einst eine blühende Reichsstadt, war stets eine der Mittelpunkte echt deutscher Kultur im Elsaß. (3)Rufach, elsässische Landstadt zwischen Colmar und Schlettstadt. Die stattlichen Häuser lassen den ehemaligen Reichtum und die Bedeutung dieser kleinen elsässischen Städte erkennen. (50) [Abb.]: Die Hohkönigsburg. Blick in die Rheinebene. (51) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Schratzmännle, benannt nach einem bösen Berggeist, der nach der Volkssage hier sein Unwesen treibt. Der über 1000 Meter hohe Berg gewährt einen weiten Überblick vom großen Belchen über den Hohneck bis zu dem Reichsackerkopf. (2)Unten: Blick vom Schratzmännle gegen den Barrenkopf. (52) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Fliegeraufnahme vom Buchenkopf. Der Verlauf der in schmalem Keil zum Gipfel führenden Stellung läßt erkennen, wie schwer es für die Deutschen war, sich auf diesem Berge zu behaupten. Die Kämpfe um den Buchenkopf standen denen um den Hartmannsweiler- und Reichsackerkopf an Schwere nicht nach. - (2)Unten: Der Buchenkopf, von Süden her gesehen. (53) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Geschützstand im Hochgebirge. (2)Unten: Stellung im Bergwald. (54) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Hart am Feind. Der Franzose liegt auf Handgranatenwurfweite vom Sappenkopf entfernt. - (2)Unten: Unterstände für Kampfreserven. Starke Betondecken und gedeckte Lage im Walde geben ihnen ein hohes Maß von Sicherheit. (55) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Schneeschuh gewährt im Winter die einzige Möglichkeit, sich über die Schneemassen fortzubewegen. (2)Unten: Artilleriebeobachtungsstand am Waldrand. (56) [2 Abb.]: (1)Vogesenlandschaft zur Zeit der Schneeschmelze. (2)Unten: Zwischen meterhohen Schneewänden führt der Weg in die Stellung. (57) [2 Abb.]: (1)Schnierlach im Weißbachtal. Der Bezirk Schnierlach - Diedolshausen war eine der wenigen elsässischen Gegenden mit überwiegend französisch sprechender Bevölkerung. (2)Unten: Diedolshausen. (58) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick von der Grenzhöhe der Bressoir nach Norden in das Markircher Tal. (2)Unten: Markirch, ein industrierreicher Ort im Oberlauf des Lebertals, ringsum eingeengt durch steil ansteigende Höhen. (59) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Die rückwärtigen deutschen Verbindungen auf diesem Frontabschnitt führten durch das Breuschtal auf Straßburg. - Saales, deutscher Grenzort am Beginn des Breuschtals. (2)Unten: Molsheim am Austritt des Breuschtals in die Rheinebene westlich von Straßburg. (60) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Auf französischer Seite: Stellungen östlich St. Dié. - (2)Unten: Provenschères, am Fuße der Montagne d'Ormont. (61) [3 Abb.]: (1)La Montagne d'Ormont, ein das Hügelgelände der mittleren Vogesen beherrschender, weithin sichtbarer Berg in Form einer abgeschnittenen Pyramide. Die Aufnahme gibt eine gute Vorstellung der französischen Vogesenlandschaft zwischen St. Dié und Raon L'Etape: Weite Täler, flache, langgestreckte Hügelketten. Ein von der deutschen Vogesenlandschaft völlig verschiedenes Bild (2)Von Laufgräben durchzogene Gebirgslandschaft zwischen dem deutschen Grenzort Saales und dem auf der französischen Seite der Vogesen liegenden Colroy la Grande. Der Wechsel im Charakter der Landschaft tritt deutlich in die Erscheinung. (3)Unten: Le Beuley östlich St. Dié. Charakteristisch die romanische Bauart der Gehöfte. Im Hintergrund La Montagna d'Ormont. Auch dieses Bild veranschaulicht die Bedeutung der Vogesen als Grenzscheibe zweier wesensverschiedener Kulturlandschaften. (62 - 63) [Abb.]: Deutscher Kriegerfriedhof am Hartmannsweilerkopf. (64) [Karte]: Elsass-Lothringen ( - ) Der Krieg in den Kolonien ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) Deutsch-Ostafrika (3) Deutsch-Südwestafrika (13) Kamerun (23) Togo (32) Die deutschen Südsee-Inseln (33) Tsingtau (34) Deutsch-Ostafrika (1) [Abb.]: Die Bucht von Daressalam. - Die herrliche Hafenstadt, die Hauptstadt der Kolonie und der Sitz des Gouvernements und Kommandos der Schutztruppe, war unter deutscher Herrschaft zu einer der schönsten und saubersten Städte der gesamten afrikanischen Ostküste geworden. (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Straße in der Europäerstadt von Daressalam. (2)Im Inderviertel. - Die Inder, deren Zahl etwa 9000 betrug, saßen in der Kolonie als Händler und Handwerker. (2) Abb.]: Dorfstraße im Nergerviertel. - Die Eingeborenen wohnten in geschlossenen Siedlungen außerhalb der Europäerstadt. (3) [Abb.]: Der über 6000 m hohe, schneebedeckte Gipfel des Kibo, ein erloschener Vulkan, ist die höchste Erhebung des Kilimandscharo und der höchste Berg Afrikas. Im Vordergrund eine Europäer-Farm. - Auf diesem Hochland, das zu den fruchtbarsten Gebieten der ganzen Kolonie gehört, hatten sich besonders deutsche und burische Farmer angesiedelt. (4) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auf den Höhen des Usambara-Gebirges. In der Tiefe die weite, endlose Steppe, das Kampfgebiet der Patrouillen. (2)Im Bergurwald des Kilimandscharo. Im Vordergrund ein von der Truppe durch das Dickicht geschlagener Etappenweg. (5) [2 Abb.]: (1)Westlich des Kilimandscharo erhebt sich der 4730 m hohe Kegel des Meru, ebenfalls vulkanischen Ursprungs. Am Fuße des Berges liegt Aruscha. Das weiße Gebäude am Ende der Hauptstraße ist die Boma, die Festung des Ortes. (2)Eine Askarikompanie im Standlager. - Die 14 Kompanien der Schutztruppe waren im Frieden über die Kolonie verteilt. (6) [2 Abb.]: (1)Mitte August besetzten die Deutschen die dicht an der Grenze gelegene englische Station Taveta, eine äußerst wertvolle Wasserstelle und ein wichtiger Ausgangspunkt für Patrouillenunternehmungen in die Steppe und zur Ugandabahn. (2)Eine Patrouille von 8-10 Askari unter Führung von 2-3 Europäern auf dem Marsch durch die wasserlose Steppe. (7) [2 Abb.]: (1)Zu Beginn des Krieges hatte die Truppe noch Zelte. Links im Hintergrund ein Europäerzelt. - Abendstimmung. (2)Askari und Träger am Lagerfeuer. Später traten Grashütten an Stelle der Zelte. - In der Mitte ein Soldatenweib. (8) [2 Abb.]: (1)Trägerkolonne auf dem Marsch. Die Träger bildeten das wichtigste Beförderungsmittel in Deutsch-Ostafrika. (2)Auf der Rast. Müde von des Tages Last und Arbeit kauern die braven Träger im Busch. Waffenlos mußten sie die MG.- und Munitionslasten bis in die Schützenlinie und ins feindliche Feuer schleppen. Sie hatten oft schwere Verluste. (9) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das englisch-indische Expeditionskorps läuft im Hafen von Tanga ein, ein Augenblick höchster Gefahr. Rechts, ganz im Hintergrund, der englische Kreuzer "Fox" am Kap Ras Kazone, an dem die Landung der englischen Truppen erfolgte. (2)Der Sturm der deutschen Askaria. - In Front und Flanke angegriffen, geriet die englische Linie in Völlige Auflösung. (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Schlachtfeld von Tanga. Der verwüstete Palmenwald gibt ein deutliches Bild von der Schwere des Kampfes. (2)"Hier ruhen 13 deutsche Helden an der Stelle, wo sie am 4. November 1914 für die Größe des Vaterlandes fielen." (11) [3 Abb.]: (1)Nordwestlich vom Kilimandscharo erhebt sich aus der freien Steppe der langgestreckte Bergrücken des Longido, der von Deutschen besetzt wurde. Der Steinhügel im Vordergrund ist ein Europäergrab. (2)Askari in Schützenlöchern am Longido. Die Schwarzen passen sich dem steinigen Steppengelände ausgezeichnet an. (3)Askari und Träger an einer Wasserstelle. Die Wasserversorgung bereitete in der Steppe oft größte Schwierigkeiten. (12 - 13) [2 Abb.]: (1)Endlos schlängelt sich die Marschkolonne durch die weite, fast baumlose Massaisteppe im Westen des Kilimandscharo. (2)Marschkolonne am Natronsee. Tausende von Trägern befördern Wasser, Proviant und Munition für die Schutztruppe. (14) [2 Abb.]: (1)Verteidigungsstellung mit zwei übereinanderliegenden Schützengräben, die mühsam in die Lava eingebrochen sind. (2)Maschinengewehrstellung am Engare Nairobi am Nordwestabhang des Kilimandscharo. Blick in die Serengetisteppe. Der lange, dünne Strich in der Ebene (Mitte des Bildes) kennzeichnet einen von der Truppe angelegten Dornverhau. (15) [3 Abb.]: (1)Eine Askarikompanie am Ufer des Viktoriasees. - Gleich nach Kriegsbeginn hatt sich an der ganzen Westgrenze der Kolonie kleinere Abteilungen gebildet, die unabhängig von der Hauptmacht der Schutztruppe den dort vordringenden Engländern und Belgiern anderthalb Jahre lang in zahlreichen Einzelgefechten erfolgreich Widerstand leistete. (2)Landschaft im Nordosten der Kolonie. Das Bergland von Ruanda am Ostufer des insel- und buchtenreichen Kiwusees. (3)Blick auf Stadt und Hafen Muansa am Südufer des Victoriasees. (16 - 17) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick auf Tabora, den Sammelpunkt der nach dem Süden zum Mahenge-Hochland zurückweichenden Westtruppen. (2)Südlich von Morongoro erhebt sich das mächtige Uluguru-Gebirge, das Rückzugsgebiet der Hauptmacht unter Lettow-Vorbeck. Zu beiden Seiten des Gebirges und im Süden bei Kissaki spielten sich im September 1916 furchtbare Kämpfe ab. (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Askari-Unteroffizier. - (2)Unten: Am Baumverbau im Kampfgebiet des Mahenge-Hochlandes. (19) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Wrack der "Königsberg" in der Rufiji-Mündung. Der kleine Kreuzer hatte in den ersten Monaten des Krieges zunächst erfolgreich Handelskrieg im Indischen Ozean geführt. Nach Verbrauch der Kohlenvorräte zog er sich in das unübersichtliche Delta des Rufiji zurück. Dort wurde er nach zehnmonatiger Blockade durch englische Kriegsschiffe und nach heftiger Beschießung im Juli 1915 von der eigenen Besatzung gesprengt. Die Besatzung trat zur Schutztruppe über. (2)Das Wrack des Dampfleichters "Hedwig", der den kleinen Kreuzer "Königsberg" mit Kohlen versorgt hat, in einem der zahlreichen Flußarme der weitverzweigten Rufijimündung. Dieses Wrack wurde erst im Jahre 1921 entdeckt. (20) [2 Abb.]: (1)Aus Marinetruppengebildeter Delta-Schutz an der Rufiji-Mündung, der dem Feind die Einfahrt in den Fluß versperrt. (2)!0,5-cm-Geschütz der "Königsberg", auf eine fahrbare Lafette montiert, auf der Lukigurabrücke. - Hunderte von Eingeborenen zogen die geretteten Geschütze der "Königsberg" ins Innere, zum Teil bis in den Norden der Kolonie. (21) Deutsch-Südwestafrika (22) [2 Abb.]: (1)Windhuk, die Hauptstadt der Kolonie, liegt im Inneren des Hochlandes in einem Talkessel. - Noch heute trägt die fast 5000 Einwohner zählende Europäerstadt rein deutschen Charakter. Auf der Höhe im Hintergrund das Regierungsgebäude. (2)Die letzte Parade vor dem Gouverneur. Dr. Seitz anläßlich der fünfundzwanzigjahrfeier der Kolonie im Juni 1914. (22) [3 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Auf der Fahrt zur Front. (2)Artillerie, mit Maultierbespannung, rollt nach dem Süden. (3)Eine Munitionskolonne verläßt Windhuk, den Sammelpunkt der Truppenteile des Nordbezirks. (23) [2 Abb.]: (1)Sonnenübergossen liegt Ramansdrift im breiten Tal des Oranje, auf beiden Seiten von hohen Bergen eingeschlossen. (2)Maschinengewehrzug in den Oranjebergen. Der Süden gehört zu den regenärmsten Siedlungsgebieten der Kolonie. (24) [2 Abb.]: (1)Lüderitzbucht. Die inmitten der Wüste an zwei Buchten gelegene Stadt hatte einen guten Hafen, war aber wasserlos. (2)Wanderdünen an der Küste bei Lüderitzbucht, das Patrouillengelände der schwachen deutschen Küstenschutzabteilung. (25) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Namib-Wüste bei Tschaukaib, 70 km östlich von Lüderitzbucht, wo sich lange Zeit ein feindliches Lager befand. (2)Deutscher Flieger bewirft das Zeltlager der Buren bei Tschaukaib mit Bomben. - Auf dem Bild links die Bahnlinie. (26) [2 Abb.]: (1)Um dem Gegner das Vordringen durch wasserlose Wüste nach Möglichkeit zu erschweren, wurde die Eisenbahnlinie von Lüderitzbucht ab von den Deutschen auf ihrem Rückzuge an zahlreichen Stellen gesprengt. (27) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Bild zeigt eine typische Landschaft aus der Gegend von Keettmanshoop. Im Vordergrund Kandelaber-Euphorbien. (2)Auf Patrouille. - Die Kamelreiter wurden an der Südostgrenze und in der Namib zu Patrouillendiensten verwandt. (28) [2 Abb.]: (1)Mole von Swakopmund. Da die schwere Brandung die Landung auf der offenen Reede sehr erschwerte, baute die Schutztruppe 1905 eine 300 m lange hölzerne Brücke in das Meer hinaus, die es ermöglichte, bei jedem Seegang zu landen. (2)Swakopmund, der Hafenplatz für die Mitte und den Norden und der Ausgangspunkt der Otawi-Bahn. (29) [2 Abb.]: (1)In der Namib bei Swakopmund. - Ähnlich wie im Süden liegt auch hier an der Küste eine Zone von Wanderdünen. (2)An der Otawi-Bahn. - Mit großer Schnelligkeit stellte der Feind bei seinem Vormarsch durch die Namib die von der Schutztruppe zerstörten Bahnen wieder her. Im Hintergrund ein zum Schutz der Bahn errichtetes englisches Blickhaus. (30) [2 Abb.]: (1)Swakoptal bei Goanikontes. Etwa 30 Kilometer oberhalb der Mündung durchbricht der Fluß ein wildzerklüftetes, ödes Bergland. Wasserreichtum und fruchtbares Schwemmland ermöglichen im Tal den Anbau von Obst, Gemüse und Luzerne; eine Oase in der Steinwüste. - Der Platz war bis Ende Februar 1915 ein wertvoller Stützpunkt für die Schutztruppe. (2)Patrouille am Swakop-Rivier. - In Deutsch-Südwest waren Maultier- und Ochsenwagen das Haupttransportmittel. (31) [2 Abb.]: (1)Bahnstation Khan im Khan-Gebirge. - Auch im Norden erheben sich am Ostrande der Namib schroffe Gebirgszüge. (2)Karibib, die erste größere Stadt auf der Hochebene der Kolonie. Sie wurde am 5. Mai 1915 vom Feinde besetzt. (32) [2 Abb.]: (1)Artillerieabteilung auf der Rast. Die Giraffenakazie bietet den Mannschaften nur spärlichen Schutz vor der Sonne. (2)Feldhaubitz-Batterie auf dem Marsch. Für den Transport der Geschütze wurden in den meisten Fällen Ochsen verwandt. (33) [3 Abb.]: (1)Keetmanshoop. Weitläufig gebaut, wie alle südwestafrikanischen Städte und Ortschaften, liegt dieser wichtige Eisenbahnknotenpunkt auf der flachen, fast baumlosen Hochebene. - Hier sammelten sich die deutschen Truppen auf ihrem Marsche nach Norden. Die Stadt wurde am 19. April 1915 geräumt. (2)Rietfontein. Auch von Osten stieß gleichzeitig eine englische Abteilung durch die Kalahari auf Rietfontein vor und bedrohte die Südtruppen im Rücken. - Eine typische Trockenlandschaft. Die Steppe ist fast ohne Vegetation. (3)Die gleiche Landschaft zur Regenzeit. Aus dem trockenen, gelben Sande sprießt plötzlich üppiges Gras, das ganze Land überzieht sich mit einem hellen Grün. - Die gute Regenzeit 1914/15 erleichterte dem Feinde den Vormarsch sehr. (34 - 35) [2 Abb.]: (1)Typische südwestafrikanische Buschsteppe mit Giraffenakazien. - Die freie, offene Steppe war überall passierbar. In diesem Gelände drang der Feind auf Pferden, Kamelen und Kraftwagen mit außerordentlicher Schnelligkeit vor. (2)Auf dem Komas-Hochland südlich des oberen Swakop. - Wilde Felsen, tiefe Schluchten, bewaldete Täler, kahle Berge, in der Ferne wellige, blau verdämmernde Höhenzüge, das ist das charakteristische Bild dieser romantischen Landschaft. (36) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kamelreiterpatrouille an der Ostgrenze der Kolonie am Steilabhang eines Riviers lagernd. (2)Reiterkolonne auf dem Marsch durch Karibib. - In Deutsch-Südwest war die fechtende Truppe durchweg beritten. (37) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Waterberg, berühmt durch die Kämpfe im Hererokrieg, liegt im landschaftlich schönsten Teil des Nordostgebietes. (2)Truppenstation Otawifontein. Hier leistete die Schutztruppe dem nachdrängenden Gegner den letzten Widerstand. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im Otawibergland. Im Gegensatz zu den lichten Steppen der Mitte und des Südens ist im Nordosten das Land weit und breit mit dichtem Busch bewachsen. - In dieser Gegend vollendete sich das Schicksal von Deutsch-Südwestafrika. (2)Soldatenfriedhof bei Aus. Hier ruhen 60 deutsche und 64 englische Soldaten, an Grippe gestorben im Gefangenenlager. (39) Kamerun (40) [Abb.]: An der Küste von Kamerun. - Im Inneren der malerischen Bucht liegt die Hafen- und Plantagenstadt Viktoria. (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der kleine Kamerunberg. In mehreren Terrassen erhebt sich an der Küste das über 4000 m hohe Vulkanmassiv des Kamerunberges, das Wahrzeichen der Kolonie. - Im Vordergrund des Bildes liegt eine Bananenpflanzung. (2)Die Küste bei Bota am Westabhang des Kamerunberges. Jahrzehntelange deutsche Kolonialarbeit hat hier aus dem tropischen Urwald ein fruchtbares Kulturland mit ausgedehnten, modernen Pflanzungsanlagen geschaffen. (41) [2 Abb.]: (1)Längs der Küste von Kamerun erstreckt sich ein dichter Urwaldgürtel, das Kampfgebiet der Küstentruppen. (2)Bei Johann-Albrechtshöhe liegt inmitten immergrünen Urwalds der märchenhafte Elefantensee, ein erloschener Krater. (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Lianenbrücke. Im Küstengebiet dienten diese an Bäumen befestigten und geflochtenen Brücken als Flußübergang. (2)Küstenfluß in der Urwaldzone. Bis zu den Stromschnellen drang der Feind auf Flußdampfern in den Urwald vor. (43) [2 Abb.]: (1)Typische Kulturlandschaft auf dem Hochplateau Mittelkameruns, wo die Urwaldzone in Gras- und Parklandschaft übergeht. In diesem offenen Gelände war der Feind auf die Dauer den Deutschen mit seiner Artillerie überlegen. (2)Tal des Mao-Deo-Flusses bei Kontscha. - Unendlich dehnen sich die Grasflächen im Norden aus. Das Land ist gesund, fruchtbar und viehreich, es bietet für die europäische Ansiedlung noch unabsehbare Möglichkeiten. (44) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Besatzung von Garua hatte die Verteidigung auf eine Hügelkette gelegt, die sich nördlich der Stadt aus der Benuë-Ebene erhob. - Blick auf die Schanze III von Süden. In der Mitte der Kanonenstand. (2)Berittene Abteilung in Garua vor dem Kanonenhügel. Im Gegensatz zu den dicht bewachsenen Niederungen der Küste und des Südens konnten auf den offenen Steppen des Hochlandes auch berittene Kompanien verwendet werden. (45) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick von der Schanze IV auf den Ring der Schanzen III, II, I. In monatelanger, mühsamer Arbeit wurden auf der Hügelkette aus Erde, Sand und Steinen Befestigungsanlagen geschaffen, die für Infanterieangriffe uneinnehmbar waren. (2)Die Besatzung der sogenannten Kuhstallschanze in Alarmstellung. Rechts auf dem Bilde ein Maschinengewehr-Stand. (46) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die durch einen dicken Wall aus Gras und Erde verstärkte Backsteinmauer des Reduits, von Norden her gesehen. (2)Das Innere des Reduits mit dem Residentenhaus. - In diesem unbeschreiblichen Durcheinander hausten eng zusammengepfercht die Soldaten. - Im Süden jenseits des Benuë die Bogle-Berge, wo sich die Stellung der Engländer befand. (47) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kolonialtruppen und Träger in Marschkolonne beim Übergang über den Mao Ntelo auf dem Ngaundere-Hochland. (2)Jaunde, seit Mitte November 1914 der Sitz des Huptquartiers und das Zentrum der deutschen Verteidigung. (48) Togo (49) [2 Abb.]: (1)Lome, die Hauptstadt der Kolonie, war zu einer der schönsten Hafenstädte der afrikanischen Westküste geworden. (2)Marktplatz in Lome mit typischen Europäerhäusern. Eingeborene Händler bieten in Verkaufsständen ihre Waren an. (49) Die deutschen Südsee-Inseln (50) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick auf Markhamebene in Kaiser-Wilhelm-Land auf Neu-Guinea. Der Markhamfluß mündet in den Huon-Golf. (2)Straße in Rabaul auf Neu-Pommern, Sitz des Gouverneurs von Neu-Guinea. (50) [2 Abb.]: (1)Missionsdorf bei Rabaul. - Auf Neu-Guinea und Neu-Pommern waren nur die Küstengebiete von Europäern besiedelt. (2)Blick auf Apia, die Hauptstadt von Samoa und Sitz des Gouverneurs. (51) Tsingtau (52) [2 Abb.]: (1)Tsingtau. Der Eingang zur Bucht und zum Hafen war nur auf der Stadtseite durch Befestigungsanlagen geschützt. (2)Bismarckstraße in Tsingtau. Im Hintergrund die 3-4 km breite Einfahrt in die Kiautschou-Bucht mit Kap Jäschke. (52) [2 Abb.]: (1)Landung japanischer Truppen in der außerhalb des Schutzgebietes gelegenen Lauschanbucht bei Wangkotschwang. (2)Deutsches Genesungsheim "Mecklenburghaus" im Lauschangebirge, wo die ersten Kämpfe mit den Japanern stattfanden. (53) [2 Abb.]: (1)Batterie reitender Feldartillerie auf dem Marsch im Vorgelände von Tsingtau. (2)Deutsche Infanterie in Schützenlinie in Erwartung des feindlichen Angriffs. (54) [2 Abb.]: (1)Stacheldrahtverhau in versumpfter Niederung im Vorfeld der Festung. (2)Vormarsch der Japaner. Antransport von Belagerungsgerät auf einer von Kulis betriebenen Feldbahn. (55) [Abb.]: Unvergessenes Land. (56) [9 Karten]: (1)Koloniale Kriegsschauplätze (2)Lagekärtchen der deutschen Kolonien (3)Schutzgebiet Kiautschou (4)Samoa-Inseln (5)Togo u. Kamerun (6)Deutsch-Südwestafrika (7)Deutsch-Ostafrika (8)Deutsche Südseekolonien (9)Kaiser Wilhelms-Land und Bismarck-Archipel ( - ) Der Seekrieg ( - ) Vorwort ([1]) Vom Frieden in den Krieg (1) [Abb.]: Der Kaiser ist eingetroffen, englische und deutsche Kriegsschiffe begrüßen ihn mit Salut. Der weiße Pulverdampf zieht über den Hafen. Im Flaggenschmuck liegen die Segel- und Dampfjachten. Eine festliche Menschenmenge säumt das Ufer. (1) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche U-Boote neben ihren Mutterschiffen an der Kieler Hafenbrücke. Ihre Gesamtzahl betrug zu Kriegsbeginn 20. (2)In Langer Reihe liegen die mächtigen Schiffe der Hochseeflotte an den Bojen. In wenigen Stunden sind sie gefechtsbereit. (2) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Mobilmachungsbefehl trifft ein, Es ergeht der Befehl: "Alle Mann an Board!" Die Angehörigen geben das Geleit. (2)Zur gleichen Zeit liegen große Teile der englischen Hochseeflotte in dem schottischen Hafen Firth of Forth versammelt. (3) [Abb.]: Blick auf die großen Werftanlagen von Wilhelmshaven. Am 17. Juni 1869 eingeweiht, hat der Kriegshafen an der Nordsee eine stürmische Aufwärtsentwicklung erlebt. Riesige Hafenbecken und Schleusenanlagen, Docks und Magazine, Werkstätten und Hellinge die Instandhaltung und Versorgung der gesamten Hochseeflotte. Zahlreiche gelungene Neubauten gingen aus der Bauwerft hervor. Drei Einfahrten führten auf die Jade hinaus, eine vierte war geplant. (4 - 5) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Insel Helgoland, seit 1890 deutscher Besitz, war ein wichtiger Vorposten der deutschen Marineverteidigung. Ihre schwere Bewaffnung und starke Besatzung machten sie zur uneinnehmbaren Festung. Ansicht vor Beginn des Hafenbaues. (2)Stürmischer Südwest fegt die See über die Brandungsmauer der im Bau begriffenen gewaltigen Hafenanlagen. (6) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine Salve der Helgoländer schweren Geschütze (Südgruppe, vier 30,5 cm). Leider hatten sie im Kriege keine Gelegenheit einzugreifen. Nur einmal, am 24. November 1914, schossen sie, jedoch war die Entfernung zum Feinde zu weit. (2)Der fertige Hafen bot Liegeplätze für 18 Unterseeboote und 90 Torpedoboote und Versorgung mit Wasser, Brennstoff und Vorräten aller Art. Ein technisches Wunderwerk, bei Freidensschluß auf Befehl der Entente sinnlos zerstört. (7) Das Meer (8) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ein Unterseeboot bei grober See in Überwasserfahrt. Im Hintergrunde Helgoland. (2)Der Wind erreichte Stärke 7. Der Seegang wächst, starke Wellen wandern, Berge und Täler bildend, an dem Schiff entlang. (8) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kleinere Fahrzeuge, wie Minensuchboote, verschwinden hinter den sich türmenden Wogen. (2)Ein Brecher fegt über die Back (Vorschiff) eines Linienschiffes, das in ruhiger Bewegung gegen die See andampft. (9) Die Flotte in See (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das II. Geschwader, im Vordergrund Linienschiff "Westfalen" (1908 vom Stapel gelaufen, 18900 Tonnen, 20 Knoten) (2)Linienschiff "Baden" das letzte deutsche Flottenflaggschiff (1915 vom Stapel gelaufen, 28600 Tonnen, 21 Knoten) (10) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Flotte übt Schwenkungen im Kielwasser. Auf größte Genauigkeit in den Bewegungen wurde besonderer Wert gelegt. (2)Torpedoboote haben angegriffen und kehren, die eigene Linie durchbrechend, zurück. Links im Hintergrund der Gegner. (11) Minen und Minensucher (12) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Eine Minensuch-Halbflottille in See. (2)Unten: Torpedo-Minensuchboot "A 88" dampft auf. (12) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine Ladung Minen. Man sieht die "Bleikappen" mit den Zündungen. Darunter liegt der Sprengkörper (150 - 200 kg). (2)Eine Seemine explodiert. Die mächtige Rauch- und Wassersäule kennzeichnet die ungeheure Wirkung der Detonation. (13) In fernen Meeren (14) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kreuzer "Emden" kämpfte im Indischen Ozean; seine Beute betrug 17 Dampfer, einen Kreuzer und ein Torpedoboot. (2)Landungskorps der "Emden" hat die Funkstation auf den Kokos-Keeling-Inseln zerstört. - Aber der Feind war nahe. (14) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der starke englische Kreuzer "Sydney" vernichtete die "Emden" am 9. November 1914. Ihr Wrack liegt auf den Felsen. (2)Das Landungskorps der "Emden" unter Kapitänleutnant v. Mücke kaperte den Schoner "Ayesha", ging mit ihm in See und erreichte über Sumatra und Arabien im abenteuerlichen Wechsel von Kampf, Seefahrt und Marsch Konstantinopel. (15) [2 Abb.]: (1)Graf Spee hat den Feind bei Coronel am 17. November 1914 geschlagen. "Die "Scharnhorst" bei Kohlenübernahme. (2)Das Kreuzergeschwader im Hafen von Valparaiso. Es bestand aus den Panzerkreuzern "Scharnhorst" und "Gneisenau" (4 Schornsteine) und den Kreuzern "Nürnberg", "Leipzig", "Dresden". Neben den deutschen ankern chilenische Schiffe. (16) [2 Abb.]: (1)Admiral Graf Spee geht mit dem deutschen Konsul zu Besuchen bei den chilenischen Behörden in Valparaiso an Land. (2)Englisches Geschwader, das die weit unterlegenen deutschen Schiffe am 8. Dez. 1914 bei den Falklandinseln vernichtete. (17) [2 Abb.]: (1)Befestigungsanlagen von Anadoli-Kavak, darüber der Schatten eines Zeppelins. Die türkischen Festungen stammen meist aus älterer, zum Teil mittelalterlicher Zeit. Sie wurden mit deutscher Hilfe zeitgemäß verstärkt und ausgebaut. (2)Unten: Schlachtkreuzer "Goeben" im Bosporus in Ruhestellung. Das mächtige Schiff bildete seit seinem Übergang in türkische Dienste den Kern der osmanischen Seemacht. Es gelang den feindlichen Anstrengungen nicht, es zu vernichten. Noch heute ist es als "Javus Selim" in Dienst. (18) [2 Abb.]: (1)Schlachtkreuzer "Goeben" und der kleine Kreuzer "Breslau" in der Stenia-Bucht am Bosporus. Aus Sicherheitsgründen mußte der Liegeplatz öfters gewechselt werden. (2)Unten: Die beiden Schiffe auf hoher See im Schwarzen Meer. In zahlreichen Gefechten behauptete das stolze Paar die Seeherrschaft gegenüber einer starken russischen Übermacht. (19) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsches Unterseeboot "UC 25" mit türkischer Flagge im Bosporus. (2)Der Dardanellenangriff mit 20 Linienschiffen der Alliierten ist abgeschlagen. Englisches Linienschiff "Irresistibele" sinkt am 18. März 1915, dazu zwei andere; drei sind schwer beschädigt, drei weitere werden etwas später versenkt. (20) [2 Abb.]: (1)LZ 81 verläßt die Luftschiffhalle in Temesvar zu einer Aufklärungsfahrt über das Schwarze Meer. (2)LZ 87 landet auf dem Luftschiffhafen in Tondern (Schleswig) nach einer Aufklärungsfahrt über die Nordsee. Die Hülle des Luftschiffes ist durch Wolkenschattenbemalung getarnt. (21) Krieg in der Nordsee (22) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ausfahrt zum Vorstoß: Panzerkreuzer "Blücher" und Kreuzer "Rostock", begleitet von 19 Torpedobooten auf dem Marsch. (2)Die deutschen Schlachtkreuzer im Gefecht. Rechts die mächtigen Wassersäulen eingeschlagener schwerer englischer Granaten. (22) [2 Abb.]: (1)"Blücher" ist überwältigt und sinkt. Er kämpfte bis zum letzten Augenblick. Nur 260 Mann konnten gerettet werden. (2)Eine Torpedobootsflottille in hoher Fahrt. (23) Skagerrakschlacht, 31. Mai 1916 (24) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ausfahrt der Flotte zur Schlacht. (2)Höchste Fahrt, dem Feind entgegen. Die Sicht ist durch Rauch und Dunst verhüllt. (24) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine schwere Salve. (2)Ein Gefechtsbild vom II. Geschwader, Schiffe der "Deutschland"-Klasse im Vordergrund. (25) [3 Abb.]: (1)Gefechtsbild mit durchbrechenden Torpedobooten. Links im Hintergrund der Gegner. - Manöverbild zur Erläuterung taktischer Lagen. (2)Vernichtung des Schlachtkreuzers "Queen Mary" (27400 t, 28,5 Knoten, acht 34,3-cm-, zwölf 15,2-cm-Geschütze, 5 Torpedorohre) und "Indefatigable". In Sekunden sind die Schiffe verschwunden, eine Rauchwolke bezeichnet ihr Grab. (3)Den englischen Schlachtkreuzer "Invincible" (20300 t, 27 Knoten, acht 30,5-cm-, sechzehn 10,2-cm-Geschütze, 5 Torpedorohre) trifft in der Skagerrakschlacht das gleiche Schicksal. (26 - 27) Nach der Schlacht (28) [2 Abb.]: (1)Schwerer Treffer gegen ein Geschützrohr. (2)Schlachtkreuzer "Seydlitz" blieb trotz vieler schwerer Treffer schwimmfähig und war bald wieder verwendungsbereit. (28) [Abb.]: Auf "Derfflinger" war ein Volltreffer auf ein Geschützrohr aufgeschlagen und hatte es glatt abgerissen. (29) Hilfe für Finnland (30) [2 Abb.]: (1)Treibeis im Hafen von Pernau. Links von den Russen als Hafensperre versenkte Schiffe. (2)In Helfingfors, Nordhafen und Werft. (30) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im Treibeis des finnischen Meerbusens versinkender russischer Frachtdampfer. (2)Deutsche Eisbrecher bei der Arbeit. (31) U-Bootskrieg (32) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Boot des Kapitänleutnants Weddigen, "U 9", mit dem er am 22. September 1914 in einem mit höchstem Schneid durchgeführten Angriff die englischen Panzerkreuzer "Aboukir", "Cressy" und "Hogue" kurz hintereinander versenkte. (2)Der Panzerkreuzer "Aboukir" (12200 t, 22 Knoten, zwei 23,4-cm-, zwölf 15-cm-Geschütze, 2 Torpedorohre, gebaut 1900). (32) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ein kleines U-Boot auf See bei einem größeren längsseits, um von ihm Vorräte und Mitteilungen zu empfangen. (2)Blick auf zwei Torpedorohre im Bootsinneren. Das linke Rohr ist geöffnet, die Propeller des Torpedos sind sichtbar. (33) [2 Abb.]: (1)"U 66" in See (50 t, 13 Knoten, ein 10,5-cm-Geschütz, 5 Rohre). Der weiße Kreis ist Erkennungszeichen für Flieger. (2)Ein Handelsschiff wird angehalten. (34) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Besatzung längsseits, wird versorgt und erhält Anweisungen über Schiffsort und Kurs zum nächsten Hafen. (2)Das von der Besatzung verlassene Schiff wird versenkt. (35) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oben: Ein Dampfer ist torpediert und bricht entzwei. - (2)Unten: Ein Dampfer mit Fässern kentert bei der Versenkung. (36) [2 Abb.]: (1)"U 35" kehrt von der Fahrt heim, durch zahlreiche Flaggen zeigt es nach Art siegreicher Jachten die Ziffer seiner Erfolge an: so viele Siegesflaggen, so viele versenkte Schiffe. (2)Unten: Die Schiffsraumnot zwang den Feindbund, alle irgendwie seetüchtigen Schiffe zur Kriegsversorgung heranzuziehen. Für die Unterseeboote waren Segelschiffe leichte Beute. In Eile wurde stets das Schiff verlassen, mit vollen Segeln mußte es zur Tiefe fahren, für Freund und Feind ein bewegender Anblick. (37) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsches Seeflugzeug tauscht Mitteilungen mit einem U-Boot aus. (2)Das englische Unterseeboot "C 25" inmitten von Bombentreffern deutscher Flieger. Abwehrgeschütze gab es noch nicht. (38) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ein feindlicher Dampfer seitlich gegen Torpedierung gedeckt. (2)Auf hoher See geschieht die wichtige Ortsbestimmung durch nautische Messungen. Es ist heiß in der Mittagssonne! (39) Im Mittelmeer (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ein Sonnenaufgang an der afrikanischen Küste, vom U-Boot gesehen. (2)U-Bootfahrt längs der marokkanischen Küste. Am Ufer erheben sich die mächtigen Höhenzüge des Atlasgebirges. (40) [2 Abb.]: (1)An der Einfahrt zur inneren Bucht von Cattaro. (2)Vor der dalmatinischen Hafenstadt Trau, von deren einstiger Größe herrliche Baudenkmäler noch Zeugnis ablegen. (41) An der Küste von Flandern (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Bei einem englischen Sperrversuch am 22./23. April 1918 wurden alte Kreuzer in der Einfahrt von Seebrügge versenkt. (2)Die Ausfahrt war nahezu versperrt, wurde aber bald wieder freigemacht. (42) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Kreuzer "Vindictive" ist bei einem zweiten Sperrversuch am 10. Mai 1918 an der Ostmole von Ostende gestrandet. (2)Deutsche Torpedoboote laufen aus. (43) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine eingebaute Marine-Batterie nahe der holländischen Grenze. (2)Ein Marine-Unterstand am Strande. (44) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Torpedoboote im Hafen von Ostende. (2)Ein abgeschossenes Luftschiff wird nach Seebrügge eingeschleppt. (45) Das Ende des Seekrieges (46) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die U-Boote vom Mittelmehr sind nach Kiel heimgekehrt, trotzig und unbezwungen. Auch ihr Krieg ist jetzt zu Ende. (2)Die Hochseeflotte in Scapa Flow, vom Feinde eng bewacht. (46) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das Linienschiff "Bayern" im Sinken. Die Besatzung hat das Schiff unmittelbar vorher in den Booten verlassen. (2)Das Ende der Torpedoboote. (47) [Abb.]: Am Eingang der Kieler Förde, auf dem hohen Ufer bei Laboe, erhebt sich das Ehrenzeichen des Seekriegs und der kaiserlichen Marine. Einem ragenden Schiffssteven gleich blickt es in die Ferne, ein Sinnbild stolzer Trauer über versunkene Größe und zugleich der festen Hoffnung auf eine neue rumvolle Zukunft. (48) [7 Karten]: (1)Europa Gesamtfront (2)Kriegsschauplatz der Nordsee (3)Seeschlacht an der Doggerbank 24. I. 1915 (4) Kampf um die Dardanellen (5)Seeschlacht bei Coronel 1. XI. 1914 (6)Seeschlacht bei den Falkland-Inseln 8. XII. 1914 (7)Kreuzfahrt d. deutschen Kl. Kreuzers "Emden" Sept-Nov 1914 ( - ) Einband ( - ) Einband ( - )

Issue 1.3 of the Review for Religious, 1942. ; Review for Religious MAY 15, 1942 The General Chapter of Elections . Adam C. Ellis Retreat Resolutions . Clarence McAuliffe Reparation to the Sacred Heart . Malachi J. Donnelly The, Pivotal Point of Good Will . G. Augustln~ Ellard Scruples Versus the Human Way . ~ Gerald Kelly Hints for Sacristans . Gerald Ellard The Presumed Permission . ¯ . James E. Risk Book Reviews )uestions Answered E)ecisions of the Holy See VOLUME NUMBER 3 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS VOLUME I MAY 15. 1942 NUMBER CONTENTS. THE GENERAL CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS IN A RELIGIOUS CONGREGATION Adam C. Ellis, S.3 . 146 FOR CHURCH MUSICIANS . " . 156 RETREAT RESOLUTIONS---Clarence McAuliffe, S.J . 157 BOOKS RECEIVED . , . 166" ¯ SOME PAMPHLETS . 166 REPARATION IN THE DEVOTION TO THE SACRED HEART Malachi J. Donnelly, S.J. . ." . . . 167 THE PIVOTAL POINT OF EFFECTIVE GOOD WILL G. Augustine Ellard, S.J . 170 SCRUPLES VERSUS THE HUMAN WAY---Gerald Kelly. S.J. 187 HINTS FOR SACRISTANS~erald Ellard, S.J . 194 THE PRESUMED PERMISSION--Jame$.,E~. Risk. S.J . 196 BOOK REVIEWS PRINCIPLES OF CHRISTIAN AND RELIGIOUS PERFECTION . 206 BLESSED ARE THEY THAT HUNGER By the Reverend Richard Graef, C.S.Sp. 206 THE MASS OF BROTHER MICHEL. By Michael Kent . 207 FAST BY THE ROAD. By John Moody . ; 208 THE CATHOLIC REVIVAL IN ENGLAND. By John ,J. O'Connor 209 MEDIEVAL HUMANISM. By the Reverend Gerald G. Walsh, S.J. 209 DECISIONS OF THE HOLY SEE OF INTEREST TO RELIGIOUS 210 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Extension of Temporary Vows; Use df Parish School Funds; Is Reli-gious Habit a Sacramental; Days of Abstinence during Lent; Languages during Canonical Year; Inspection of Letters: Administration of Anes-thetics: Aspirant of East Syrian Rite: Converts from Greek Orthodox Church; Indulgence for Kissing Habit: Extending Period of Probation: Chanting of Little Office; Working during Evening Recreation 211 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, 1942. Vol. I, No. 3. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November, at The College Press, 606 Harrison Street; Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.d. Copyright, 1942, 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. PHnted in U. S. A. The General Chap!:er ot: I::lect:ions in a Religious Congregat:ion Adam C. Ellis, S.3. BY CHAPTER in a reli.gious institute is meant the lawful assembly of those members to whom the con-stitutions give the right to vote when matters of im-portance are to be discussed and decided. Chapters may be general, provincial, or local, according as they represent an entire institute (order or congregation), or a province, or a local community. Provincial and local chapters meet, as a rule, only for the election of delegates to the general or provincial chapter respectively. In this article we are concerned only with the g.eneral chapter, though many of its provisions will apply equally well to a provincial or local chapter. An ordinarg general chapter is convoked at the times prescribed by the constitu-tions-~ every three or six years, or at other regular inter.- vals. An extraordinar~ general chapter is ofie convoked outside the time of the ordinary chapter~ Constitutions approved by the Holy See usually prescribe that an ex-traordinary chapter may not be convoked without the per-missioh of the Holy See, except in the case of the death or resignation of the superior general. The purpose of the general chapter is two-fold: to elect superiors, and to transact other important business. The first kind of chapter is usually called the chapter of elections; the second, the business chapter, or the chapter of affairs. We are dealing here with the chapter of elections only, which is governed by the regulations of the Code of Canon Law as well as by the provisions of the constitu-tions which are not contrary to the Code (cf. canon 507. §1). 146 CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS Time, Place, and Cor~oocation of Chapter. The common law of the Church does not prescribe any particular place for the meeting of the general chapter of elections. The constitutions usually allow the superior general to determi.ne the date and place of the chapter, with the deliberative vote of his council. Sometimes, however, they prescribe that the chapter be held in the motherhouse, and set the day for it as well. In the absence of any definite regulations of the constitutions, the superior general with his council is free to determine the day on which the chap-ter is to be held, as well as its meeting-place. This is true even in the case of a diocesan congregation of religious women which has houses in more than one diocese, as was declared by the S. Congregation of Religious on June 17, 1921, when it explicitly stated that the choice of the meet-ing- place of the chapter rested with the superior general, and not with the local Ordinary in whose diocese the moth-erhouse is located. At the same time the S. Congregation declared that the right to preside over the election in the case mentioned belonged to the local Ordinary in whose diocese the election took place, hence not to the Ordinary of the motherhouse, unless the election is held in his dio-cese. Pope Benedict XV confirmed these decisions and ordered them to be published. The day and place of the general chapter having been determined upon, the superior general will then convoke the chapter, usually by means of a circular letter to be sent to all those who have a right to assist at the chapter. The constitutions usually pr.escribe that such letters are to be sent at least three, if not six, months before the day on which the chapter is to meet. An error in convoking the chapter does not make the election invalid unless one third of those who have a right to attend have not been sum-moned and, by reason of this irregularity, have not taken 147 ADAM C. ELLIS part in the voting (cf. canon 162, § 3). Electors or Members of the Chapter The constitutions will determine who have a right to take part in a chapter of elections. The following are com-monly members of such a chapter: 1. The superior general; 2. The members of his council; 3. All ex-superiors general; 4. The secretary general; 5. The treasurer general; 6. Provincials and two or more delegates from each province, if there are provinces; 7. Local superiors, and delegates of the various houses chosen according to the constitutions. The common law of tl~e Church prescribes that reli-gious with temporary vows have neither active nor pas-sive voice1 unless the constitutions explicitly grant it to them. The constitutions sometimes grant active voice to religious with temporary vows, seldom if ever passive voice. The number of years required by the constitutions for the enjoyment~ of active and passive voice is tO be counted from the" first profession of temporary vows, un-less the constitutions provide otherwise (cf. canon 578, 30). It is customary to elect substitutes for all delegates who are elected to take part in a chapter of elections. These substitutes take the place of such delegates as are impeded or who do not wish to attend the chapter. Unless the con-stitutions declare otherwise, the religious who have been elected delegates may give up their right to attend the chap-ter. XActive voice is the tight to vote: passive voice is the right to be voted for or to be elected to an ot~ce, 148 CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS Prelirainar~.t Session of Chapter In a preliminary session of the .chapter it is customary to examine the credentials of all the delegates to the chap-ter. This having been done, the assembly proceeds by se-cret vote to the election of at least two "scrutineers".0r tellers (cf. canon 171, § 1), unless these are already desig-nated by the constitutions. They must be elected from among the members of the chapter. After being elected they take an oath to fulfill their of Iice faithfully, and to observe secrecy regarding everything done in the chapter of elections. A secretary is usually elected in a similar man-ner, unless one of the tellers acts in this capacity. General Regulations Regarding Voting On!y those religious who are actually present in the chapter have a right to vote. Votes sent in by mail or cast by proxy are forbidden and invalid, unless the constitu-tions or a special privilege granted by the Holy See author-ize the employment of those methods (cf. canon 163). An exception., however, is made in favor of members of the chapter who are in the house but unable to attend the meetings because of illness. Such a person's vote given in writing shall be collected by the tellers and placed with the other votes, unless particular laws or a legitimate custom determine otherwise (cf. canon 168). All must abstain from seeking votes either directly or indirectly for themselves or for others, and no one may validly vote for himself (cf. canons 507, § 2, 170). This does not forbid the members-of the chapter from seeking information from one another regarding the qualities of this or that religious. The constitutions frequently pro-vide for such an opportunity before the day of the election. All votes must be freely given. A vote directly or indirectly extorted by grave fear or fraud in favor of a 149 ADAM C. ELLIS determined person, or of one of a group of persons, is an invalid vote (cf. canon 169, §.1). In order to be valid, a vote freely cast for an eligible candidate must have four qualities: it must be secret, cer-tain, absolute, and determined (cf. canon 169, § 2). Each one of these qualities demands a brief explanation. A secret vote. This means that no member of the chapter may make known to another, the pers6n for whom he voted. A vote which is made public is by that very fact invalid. However, for special reasons, a member of the chapter may declare before the president and the tellers which person he wishes to vote for. The vote is secret, since all the persons to whom it is made. known are bound under oath. not to reveal it. Though not strictly speaking required by law, a written ballot is the most common and most convenient form of carrying on the election and safe-guards the secrecy req.uired. It would seem to be the only form contemplated by the Code. A certain vote. In order to be certain the vote must glare the full name of the person v6ted for so as to distin-guish him from all other persons having a similar name. A vote cast for "the person who will receive the majority of the votes," is an uncertain vote. A vote which cannot be read, or understood, is likewise uncertain; as is also a blank vote. An absolute vote. Each vote must be free from all con-ditions. A vote cast for Peter "provided he is fifty years old," would be an invalid vote. If the condition, however, merely expresses a requirement of the law for the valid election of the person voted for, the. vote would not be invalid: But such conditions should not be put in the vote when given since they are presupposed. A determined vote. An alternative vote is invalid. 150 CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS Such would be, for example, a vote cast for "either Peter or Paul." In conclusion it may be well to note that an invalid vote does not make the balldt in which it is cast invalid. Such an invalid vote is simply not.counted. By accident it may keep the person for whom it was given from getting the required majority of votes. The Election of the Superior General -Before the voting begins for the election of higher superiors in institutes of religious men, all and each of the members of the chapter shall promise under oath to elect those whom they deem before God should be elected (cf. canon 506, § 1). This oath is not required of reli-gious women. In institutes of religious men the superior general pre-sides over the election unless the constitutions provide otherwise. In congregations of religious women the elec-tion of the mother general is presided over by the Ordinary of the place in which the election is held. He may preside personally or through a delegate (cf. canon 506, § 4). For the election of superiors the common law requires an absolute2 majority of votes on either the first or second ballot, while a relative majority suffices on the third ballot, If, on the third ballot, the highest number of votes is given equally to two or more persons, the presiding officer may determine the election by casting his vote, but never in his own favor. Should he decline to do so, then the senior by reason of ordination, or of first profession, or of age, shall be regarded as elected (cf. canon 101, § 1, 1°). Theconsti- 2An absolute majority is constituted by any number exceeding half the number of valid votes cast, for instance, 9 out of 16, 10 out of' 19, and so forth. The person receiving the greatest number of votes cast is said. to have a plurality or relative majority of the votes cast when that number does not constitute an absolute majority of all the'votes cast. Thus, in a chapter in which 25 votes are cast,-,John may receive 11, Peter 8, and Paul 6. ,John has a relative majority. 151 ADAM C. ELLIS tutions may require a greater number of votes, for instance, a two-thirds majority for the election of the superior gen-eral. Constitutions approved by the Holy See usually require that :a fourth ballot be taken in case the third ballot does not result in an absolute majority. ¯ In this fourth bal-lot only the two religious who have received the greater number of votes on the third ballot are eligible for election, though they themselves are excluded from voting on the fourth ballot. In case this fourth ballot results in a tie, the election is determined by priority of ordination, or of first profession, or of age, respectively as mentioned above. The Voting Process When all are prepared the voting begins. It is the duty of the tellers to see to it that the votes be cast by each elector secretly, diligently, separately, and according to the order of precedence (cf. canon 171, § 2). No particular form of collecting the votes is prescribed by the common law, though the constitutions usually determine some detailed method, for instance, the tellers carry a locked box into which each member casts his sealed vote, or the members proceed slowly, one by one, to-the table or desk of the presiding officer, and there deposit their votes in an urn or box, under the watchful eyes of the tellers. When all the votes have been thus.collected, the tellers shall examine in the presence of the presiding officer, according to the manner prescribed by the particular con-stitutions or legitimate customs, whether the number of votes corresponds to the number of electors. Should the number of votes exceed the number of electors, the ballot is invalid (cf. canon 171, §§ 2 and 3), the ballots are destroyed, and a new vote taken. If the number of ballots does not exceed that of the number of electors, they are opened one by one so as to be seen by both tellers, and by 152 " CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS the presiding officer, and noted down by the secretary. After the votes have been counted the presiding officer or one of the tellers announces to the chapter how many votes each candidate has received. This may be done in either of two ways. After each vote is opened and inspected by the tellers and the presiding officer, the name of the person voted for is read aloud.-Or after the votes have been counted, the final results may be read to the chapter by the presiding officer or by one of the tellers. The constitutions or custom will determine the method to be followed. The votes are to be burned immediately after each bal-lot, or at the end of the session if several ballots were taken during it (cf. canon 171., § 4). When the election of the superior general has been com-pleted according to the prescribed formalities, the presiding officer will declare it lawful, proclaim it, and receive the oath of the newly elected superior general. Thereupon the religious both of the chapter and of the community will make their obedience according to custom. All the acts of the election shall be diligently written down by the secretary and, after being signed at least by him, by the presiding officer, and by the tellers, they shall be carefully preserved in the archives of the congregation (cf. canon 171, § 5). Acceptance and Confirmation of the Election The announcement of the result of the election made to the chapter is sufficient notification if the person elected is present; if he is not present the result should be officially communicated to him, and he is to be summoned to the chapter, all further business of which is suspended until his arrival. Unless the constitutions state the contrary, the reli-gious elected is not obliged to accept the office. Should he 153 ADAM C. ELLIS renounce it; he loses all the rights connected with the same, and a new election is held. In the case of diocesan congregations of religious women, the election of the mother general must be con-firmed by the Ordinary who presides over it. For grave reasons, according to his conscience, he may refuse to con-firm the election (cf. canon 506, § 4). In that case, how-ever, he may not appoint the superior general, but a new election must be held. Postutaiion It may fiappen that the members of a chapter wish to have for their superior a religious who is able and worthy to fill that office, but who is excluded from it by some impediment of church law from which the-competent ecclesiastical ~uperior can and is accustomed to dispense. Such a person cannot be validly] elected, but the members of the chapter may postulate him, provided that he receives two-thirds of. the votes of the chapter (cf. canons 179, § 1; 180, § 1)which means that they ask the Holy See to grant the necessary dispensation. Postulation, however, may be admitted only in an extraordinary case and provided the constitutions do not forbid it. (cf. canon 507, § 3). In a letter addressed to the local Ordinaries of the world on March 9, 1920, the S. Congregation of Religious instructed them to be very strict in allowing postulation in the case of the superior general of a congregation of religious women who has just com-pleted two terms of office. In such a case the simple desire of the members of the chapter to re-eleCt the same superior, or the mere ability of the person to fill the office, is not a sufficient reason for postulation. If, however, other grave reasons seem to require the choice of the same person beyond the time allowed by the constitutions, the Ordinary must 154 CHAPTER OF ELECTIONS send a petion to the S. Congregation, in which it is clearly stated what the reasons are, how many ballots were taken, and how many votes were in favor of the person postu-lated. Finally the OMinary must state his own opinion in the matter. The S. Congregation will then give a decision. The fact that the constitutions expressly allow postulation does not excuse from the requirements of this instruction. In case of postulation the members of the chapter who wish to vote for an ineligible person, must write on their ballot: "I postulate N. N." Election of Other Officers The newly elected superior general presides over the election of the other officers to be chosen by the general chapter, unless the constitutions allow the Ordinary the right of presiding likewise at the election of the members of the general council. These elections are usually held in a separate session Of the chapter. The manner of voting is the same as that employed in the election of the superior general. An absolute majority of votes is required on the first and second ballot. If no one has received such a major2 ity, a third ballot is taken in which a relative majority is sufficient. ,If on this third ballot two or more candidates receive an equal number of votes, the presiding officer may cast a deciding vote, though he is not .obliged to do so. If he declines to use his right, the person who is senior by ordi-nation, or by first profession, or by age, is considered elected. The constitutions may provide for a fourth bal-lot in case the third re.sults in a tie. If the person elected is not a member of the chapter, he must be summoned at once, but the chapter does not await his arrival in order to continue its business. After the elections are over, the former superior gen-eral, the members of his council, the secretary general and 155 ADAM G. ELLIS the treasurer general, usually continue to sit in chapter with active voice as long as it r~mains in'session, even though they may have been replaced in their offces by other reli-gious. Should the superior general die during his term of offce, or resignbefore its completion, the assistant superior gen-eral will take his place in the government of the community and will ~onvoke an extraordinary chapter in which dec-tions will be held not only for a new superior general, but also for all the other offices which are usually filled by election in general chapter. The reason for this is that all ¯ the officers elected in a general chapter hold office from chapter to chapter, rather than for a "definite number of years. FOR CHURCH MUSICIANS Of unusual yalue to religious and seminarians working in the field c~f church music is 'the new Catholic Choirmasters' Correspon-derice Course. Four semesters of ~olle'giate° work, accredited by St. Albertus College Department of Music, are done under personal tutorship and will be coricluded with summer schools in 1943 and 1944. The lessons have been prepared by a~ faculty international in personnel and repute, including Dom Desrocquettes0 Dr. Becket Gibbs, Dom Ermin Vitry, Father Gerald Ellard, and others. Zest and .authority characterize their teaching, and phonograph recordings assist amply in problems that need the living voice. General' editor is Clifford Bennett, Gregorian Institute, 1515 Berger Building, Pittsburgh, Pa. Those interested may obtain an attractive pros-pectus by writing to the General Editor. 156 Retreat Resolutions Clarence McAuliffe, S.3. AS ~WEGO ON in the religious life, certain practices, n6t binding under pain of sir/, but nevertheless, of paramount importance in their bearing on the whole spiritual structure, become increasingly .difficult. Among these are the particular examination of conscience, certain rules governing religious discipline, such as the rule of silence, and the formulation of apt resolutions during re-treat. That the delicate web of religious virtues clings for partial support upon the particular examen is admitted by all ascetical writers. The same holds true for the rule of silence, since its utter neglect means the undermining of the spirit of prayer and recollection. But the resolutions we take in our annual retreat are even of greater moment since the continued practice of the particular examen and the preservation of a prayerful disposition depend in no small measure upon them. If we reflect on our happy novitiate days, we shall remember that we experienced no difficulty in making resolutions and recording them. We jotted them down carefully as tokens of our affection for our Divine Savior Who alone besides ourselves knew what they were. We may still have them. We may smile now at some of their characteristics. No doubt we took too many resolutions; we aimed too often at purely external practices; we may even have aspired to fanciful performances. But we can-not deny that they did us good. They kept us fervent: they kept our ideals high; they were concrete proof of our good will in God's service; they bolstered our flagging spir-itual forces. As long as we exercised care in formulating and inditing resolutions during our retreat, we were also 157 CLARENCE MCAULIFI~E faithful to our particular examen and observant of a cred-itable practice of silence. If we ever relaxed our diligence in making resolutions during retreat, our particular exa-men becamea half-hearted or neglected undertaking and our love for silence grew notably remiss. No Excuse t:or Neglect W.hy should the task, for task it is, of taking retreat resolutions ever be neglected by. us? What truly solid rea-son can we give for not writing them down and keeping them close at hand? Every man or woman engaged in a profession or business or in any other activity of moment pauses now and then to determine hn altered course of ac-tion. Small defects ard bound to seep in unnoticed, but they impede success and must b~ removed. Positive prog-ress also must be made; knowledge must be extended; greater zest must be engendered or the business will grow languid and die. Merchants do not hesitate to pay ample fees to public accountants and efficiency experts. These men detect pecuniary losses and open up new fields of ac-tivity for the merchant, and he makes definite plans accord-ing to their advice. Are we religious not engaged in a pro-fession, and a profession transcending all others? Can we deny that peccadilloes of one kind or another are, almost unobserved, weakening the fabric of our spiritual gar-ments? .that we are yet far distant from the glorious hori-zon of perfec~tion to which God beckons each one of us? Should we hesitate during our annual retreat to be our own public accountants and efficiency experts because of the unreasonable murmurings of our natural selves? A Faoorable Time for Resolutions Certainly no time is better suited for determining new spiritual policies than the annual retreat. During it we are segregated from our active duties; we engage in several days RETREAT RESOLUTIONS of silent communing with God; we see again what we al-ways know, but never reduce to perfect practice, that we are made only to serve Him; our spiritual ideals, dimmed by a whole year's mis~, are refurbished; God himself speaks to us and we hear His whisperings periodically, during each day of retreat pleading with us: "Why not give up this sin-less, but inordinate attachment for my sake? Why not de-vote more attention to developing this virtue?" Further-more, our subjective condition is fit for taking sage resolu-tions. We are calm, tranquil; excessive nervous tension, emotional ebullitions, the agitation engendered by custom-ary daily contact with other human personalities m all these vanish in the solitude of retreat. Those New Year resolutions so widely publicized by the newspapers can scarcely ever be successful if brought to bear upon spiritual matters, because the hectic round of daily duties and dis-tractions impedes clear vision and sound judgment. But the retreat is the New Year for religious and it is certainly to our shame if we pass up this one propitious occasion for taking efficacious resolves. Retreat resolutions are apt to be successful for another reason. Our profession is spiritual and its successful prac-tice does not depend on mere human endeavors. God called us to the religious life; He keeps us in it'; .He enables us every day to live it. Any resolution we take is doomed to failure if we count upon our own natural energies to fulfill it. Even the simplest, such as thedetermination to prepare Our meditation more carefully, to make an additional visit to the Blessed Sacrament, to relinquish some convenient, but unnecessary article, cannot be accomplished without the grace of God. Consider what vast stores of grace we must obtain in time of retreat. Not only do we perform our ordinary spiritual exercises, but the whole time is one continual prayer. A veritable mountain of sanctifying. 159~ CLARENCE MCAULIFFE grace is accumulated and with it the right to actual graces to be given us in the future as we need them. We shall need them particularly in order to be faithful to our reso- ¯Iutions, the fruit of our retreat, and they will be supplied generously and persistently by God, success depending solely upon our wholehearted cooperation. Negative Resolutions Why, then, we may ask have our resolutions so often been failures?' Why is it that we can hardly recall them after a few weeks perhaps? Have we been grossly negli-gent in corresponding with the grace of God? Not neces-sarily so. Perhaps our resolutions were not prudently made. God constructed the human being according to very definite laws. If we take resolutions contrary to these laws, especially our psychological laws, we can scarcely expect God to work a miracle to enable us to keep them. For in-stance, most' of us are probably too negative in drawing.up our resolutions. We will not do this; we will not do that; we will quit doing this, and so on. In other words, we pay entirely too much attention to our faults. If we are com-mitting deliberate sins, we must, of course, make them the first object of our determinations. But 'such is not usually the case. We fret over our imperfections or merely semi-deliberate faults, forgetting a sound teaching of theology which declares that it is impossible for any person without a special privilege, rarely granted, to keep from these even for a single day. The chances are that such defects spring from temperament, nervous disposition, unstable health or some other natural cause, partially, at least, beyond our control. Now it is a psychological law that negatives de-press the human soul. If our retreat resolutions comprise merely a lengthy list of "Don'ts" over inconsequential matters, we are .quite surely going to let them lapse. The 160 RETREAT RESOLUTIONS human soul is too lofty in its aspirations to be fettered' by a chorus of petty "I will not's"; it soars to the highest heavens in search of God Himself; unending vistai of per-fection lie stretched out before it and microscopic imper-fections are no obstacle to exalted sanctity even if they stay with us to our dying day. How much wiser it would be to 'resolve: "I will pay an additional visit to the Blessed Sac-rament each day this coming year for a few minutes out of love for my Savior," than to promise: "I will never sit down during meditation in the chapel", when, as a matter of fact, constant kneeling may so distract us that we cannot pray at all from bodily uneasiness. Besides, protracted kneeling may even do us positive corporal harm unless our backs and nerves are of rugged texture. How Man~/ Resolutions? Another mistake to which we may easily succumb is that of taking too many resolutions. It is true that a hun-dred resolutions would be none too many when we see in retreat the intricate labyrinth of perfection. Even so, it would certainly be unwise to take more than four. or, at most, five. Here again asimple law of. human psychology enters into play. We are so constructed that a multiplicity of resolves overbalances US~ dissipates our energies and re-sults in no accomplishment whatever. We cannot expect our Savior to rescind that law in our case by a miracle. It is well for us to recall that old axiom of spiritual au-thors that to advance in one virtue is to advance in them all. Progress, for instance, in the spirit and practice of obedi-ence necessarily reflects progress in the love of God. But love is the pith and core of all sanctity; loreis the all-em-bracing virtue; it means a closer alliance with God, more intimate union with Him; if it makes the tree of obedience more verdant, it must necessarily transmit its vigor to the 161 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE entire forest of virtues. Bearing this in mind, we should in retreat pay heed, firit of all to our vows. An outpost to one of them may have been weakened during the previous year. Then we should look to the virtues animating the vows and make a few positive resolutions that will stimu-late their growth. We must never forget that a religious observant of the vows is a good religious. Focusing our attention upon them, we keep our resolutions down to a minimum. Yet we will make more rapid spiritual s~rides .than we would if we squandered our resources by making decisions on the whole gamut of faults and virtues. The Search After Causes Our resolutions may result in failure for another rea-son also. They may be too vague, too imprecise, too gen-eral. For example, how often have we resolved in retreat to be more fervent in our spiritual exercises! No one could condemn a determination to better these exercises of piety. It is they especiall.y that keep our spiritual lives vigorous and bolster our flagging virtue. But what happened to that resolution to make them more devotedly? For a day or two, for a week or two perhaps, we were more attentive .to them and then, behold, we soon found ourselves in the same old rut of routine and mechanical performance. Why? Simply because our resolution violated a metaphysical law which states that to attain a purpose it is necessary to .~elect means, causes, that will conduce to its realization. If we resolve only upon the end to be achieved, we shall accomplish nothing. Every day we dream ofthings we should like to do, but we neglect the specific means to the end and our resolves are thus mere fancies relegated to the vast mound of inefficacious desires. If we really wish to improve our meditation, examinations of conscience and other spiritual exercises, let us investigate the reason 162 RETREAT RESOLUTIONS why they are performed so perfunctorily. Ii it because we indulge in considerable unnecessary talking? This will certainly dissipate the mind and react upon our spiritual exercises. If we make a determination to practise silence, we shall find that contact with God will become much eas.ier and our meditations will improve. Is it due to un-regu. lated affections of the heart? Then a resolution must be taken to watch carefully over such ungoverned move-ments by removing their occasions as far as possible. Is it due to stark physical fatigue? Then we can do nothing directly, but perhaps we can adopt some regime that will improve our health. Is it due to some other cause? Then let us examine for that cause and decide to overcome it if possible. Definite resolutions of these kinds will inject new life into our meditation whereas a mere hazy resolve to perform it better will soon vanish. This point is of the utmost consequence. Take another example. Most of us are guilty of positive faults against charity and all of us could practise this virtue much more perfectly. Shall we then determine during retreat: "I shall be more charitable"? Such a resolution is praiseworthy,, as a sign of our good will in God's service, but it is bound to lapse just as is the vague determination to do better in our spiritual exercises. If we wish to be more charitable, we must pry into the reasons why we are not more charitable. If we wish to obtain an effect, we must find a proportion-ate cause to produce it. Do we fail in charity because we associate only with those whose temperaments .are con-genial? because we areof a squeamish disposition and allow tiny impolitenesses to jar our nerves? because we indulge in idle ,gossip and small talk? because we have a biting or ridiculing tongue? Could we add blossoms to our charity by interesting ourselves in the activities of others? by de-veloping the spirit of a good listener? by watching for 163 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE opportunities to say a kindly word or express Our sym-pathy? Ways and means to add lustre to this virtue are truly endless. If one defect, in particular, makes us un-charitable, let us in retreat decide to banish it; if some precise means of burnishing our charity occurs to us, let us determine to adopt it. Then we shall find that Christ's own spirit of charity will take root and flourish in our souls. The Bizarre Resolution Fantastic and complex resolutions should also be avoided. Though we never relax our aim at the highest possible perfection, we always keep our feet anchored to earth by the bonds of prudence and common sense. The human mind can only think of one thing at a time; the will can be directed toward only one conscious goal at a time. Both faculties are bound to be smothered by kaleido-scopic resolutions. Suppose a religious were to emerge from retreat armed with this single resolve: From eight o'clock in the morning when her active day began until ten at night when she retired, exactly fourteen hours inter-vened, the same number of hours as there are stations of the cross. During the coming year she would divide the day according to the stations. From eight to nine in the morning she would live in the spirit of the first station, the condemnation of the Savior. From nine to ten her thoughts would Be engrossed with the second station, and so on throughout the day. It is not likely that this well-inten-tioned religious would keep that resolution. It is too bizarre and too involved .and would require constant at-tention from morning to night every single day. Human nature could not stand such a strain without well-nigh miraculous support. 164 RETREAT RESOLUTIONS Keeping the Resolution Once our resolutions are taken and written down, how can we perpetuate them for three hundred and sixty-five days? By adopting them as subjects for Our particular ex-amination of conscience. How often we puzzle over a suitable subject for this examen! The problem vanishes if we have our retreat resolutions on hand. Even though these be only three or four,, they will provide ample matter for the examen. Each resolution can be the subject for a few weeks or a month. Thereafter each resolution can be repeated again and, if this becomes wearisome, variety may be introduced without changing the subject matter. FOr instanc.e, if one of our retreat resolutions is to eliminate unnecessary talking, we can practise this for some days under the patronage of the Blessed Virgin and in imitation .of her silence in the home at Nazareth. Later on, we might exercise it in union with Christ in the desert and in His infancy and in His secluded hours of prayer upon the mountain. At another time we may practise it by repeated ejaculatory prayers to some favorite saint whose help we implore. In this way the subject will not grow tedious and it will never lose its value Since it is one of our rdreat resolutions. These may also be kept alive and vibrant by referring to them duriag the monthly recollection. Why devote this period to any other consideration when God has shown us in our previous retreat what actions of ours will most please Him? Despite our best efforts, however, we shall make un-successful resolutions. In framing them we may continue to violate the laws of human psychology. We may not observe them even for a week though we honestly wanted to do so. We should not be discouraged. God values our good will; and our retreat resolutions, if written down, are 165 CLARENCE MCAULIFFE palpable proof of this" good will. The resolutions of our novitiate days were often ill-formed and impossible of achievement, but they secured God's blessing for us. We kept the vows though we did not as yet have them; rarely did we commit even a deliberate venial sin; we strove by our clumsy retreat resolutions to improve our religious lives. These resolutions won from Christ the gift of fer-vor. He Will reanimate and increase that fervor if we per-severe in taking and recording resolutions during our re-treat. BOOKS RECEIVED (7"0 be reviewed later.) I PRAY THE MASS~. By Hugo H. Hoever, S. O: Cist. Catholic Book Publishing Company. New York. MARCH INTO TOMORROW. By, 3ohn ,J. Considine, M.M. Field Afar,Pres~. New York. ~, . WATCH AND PRAY. By ,John Moffatt, S.~J. The Bruce Publishing' Company. Milwaukee. IN THE SHADOW OF OUR LADY OF THE CiENACLE. By Helen M. Lynch; R.C. The Paulist Press. New York. SOME PAMPHLETS Cheer Up!; Be of Good Heart!; Have ConfidenCe!; Take Courage! These four pamphlets are by Father Bruno Hagspiel, S.V.D. They consist of a varied collection of Scripture texts, anecdotes, poems, and so forth, all designed to cheer the downhearted.~ Price, 10 cents a copy. May be obtained from The Mission Press, Techny, I11. Also, four pamphlets listed under the general title, GOSPEL MOVIES, that treat of Grace; Faith; Sin; Wed in Christ. They contain brief stories based on the Gospels and illustrating these various topics. All are written by Father Placldus Kempf, O.S.B. Price, 10 cents a copy. May be obtained from THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad~, Indiana. 166 Reparation in t:he Devotion t:o !:he Sacred I-leart: Malachi 3. Donnelly, S.J. THE "great apparition" of our Lo~d to St. Margaret Mary took place duiing the Octave of Corpus Christi, most probably in 1675. Showing her His Heart, our Lo~d said: "Behold this Heart which has so loved men, which has spared nothing, even to being exhausted and consumed, in order to testify to them its love. And the greater number of them make me no other return than ingratitude, by their coldness and their forgetfulness of me in this Sacrament of love. But what is still more painful to me is, that it is hearts who are consecrated to me who use me thus." And our Lord continued: "It is because of this that I ask you to have the first Friday after the Octave of Corpus Christi kept as a special feast in honor of my Heart. by receiving Communion on that day and making it a reparation of honor for all the insults offered to my Heart during the time that it has been exposed on the altars." The end of the devotion to the Sacred Heart, as revealed to St. Margaret Mary and as approved by the Church, is reparation to this same Heart for the coldness and indif-ference, for the sins and insults suffered by the Sacred Heart, especially in the Sacrament of His love. Reparation, in general, means the making up for an injury or offense committed against one to whom honor and love are due. In the case of reparation to the Sacred Heart, this presup-poses a real personal wound in that Heart caused by the sins of men, and a real ability on the part of those devoted to the Sacred Heart to repair this wound. This confronts us with two difficulties: 1) how can the Heart of Jesus now suffer? 2) how can we repair His sufferings? 167 MALACHI ,J. DONNI~LLY The soul of Jesus Christ.in heaven experiences no sor-row, nor does His glorified body know aught of pain. His perfect happiness can be dimmed by absolutely nothing: nay! not even by the most heinous sins of ungrateful men, How, then, could He complain of the coldness and indif-ference of m~n, and that in words which, seemingly indicate that each sin of the present day is a direct and piercing wound in His Sacred Heart? In a word, the solution lies in an Understanding of the knowledge that Christ, as Man, enjoyed during His, life on earth. Our Blessed Lord was both God and Man. As Man He enjoyed the beatific Vision throughout His whole life. Now, through this vision He received the complete perfection of His intellect. He knew all things that per-tained to His office, His dominion, His mission on earth, all that pertained to the plan of redemption. The knowledge that Christ had, as Man~ was like unto the eternal knowledge of God. During His whole lithe, .especially during the Passion, Christ',' as Man, had knowl-edge of future things; the good and bad 'actions of all men were directly1 present to His mind. Just as a giant search-light in one blazing stream of light covers at once a half-mile area and every inch of space therein, or just as the human eye gazing on a distant landscape sees the whole and each detail at the same time, so, too, did Christ see through the whole of time to come and all the actions of men con-tained therein. He saw all future events as actually present before His eyes and each event was the direct object of His vision. In order to understand better the relationship between the knowledge of Christ and reparation in the devo-tion to the Sacred Heart, let us go in imagination with Jesus to the garden of Gethsemani. As Jesus kneels in 168 REPARATION TO THE SACRED HEART meditation, He begins to grow sad. Why? This sadness can only be caused by the vision in His human mind. As He kneels there, the sins of all men Unfold before His eyes; all the ingratitude of men--especially, of those from whom He might well have expected better things--is directly present to His clear vision. Not a.single sin --- even an ever so secret sin of desire-~elu~les His all-seeing gaze. Also (and this is the consoling aspect of Gethsemani), every single act of reparation of those especially devoted to His Sacred Heart was present to Him. And, as Jesus looked upon these acts of reparation, His loving Heart felt real and deep consolation. When, therefore, at the present time we perform acts of reparation, it is perfectly true to say that there is direct contact between our act of reparation and the Heart of Christ in Gethsemani. Time and space are wiped out. His knowledge bridges nineteen hundred years as readily as we look across a river. We are present before His eyes: our acts of reparation console Him, our sins cause Him sorrow-ful agony. What should be the effect of this truth that all our actions were actuatl~t present to the suffering Christ in His Passion? A deep realization of this can only ground more firmly our love for the Sacred Heart and spur us to more ardent acts of loving reparation to the Sacred Heart. Just as the spokes of a wheel lead to the hub, with which they are in direct contact, so likewise do all the reparatory actions of men the world over lead back to Christ in the Garden; establish immediate contact with His Suffering heart. And the deep realization of this solidly established truth should arouse the deepest aspirations of our hearts and wills to do our utmost to console the great and loving Heart of Jesus. 169 The Pivol:al Point: ot: l=fl:ec!:ive ,ood Will G. Augustine.Ellard, S.J. ['Because of the importance of Father Ellard's theme, and because of the length of the article, we thought that the followihg summary might be appreciated by those who wish some handy way of visualiz!ng and recalling the points devdopedin the article. The Roman numerals refer to the same divisions of the text.--ED.] Summary I. The problem of bringing about moral good will is illustrated by three cases: a)" Good~ but weak, will in oneself; b) Generous, but inconstant, will in oneself; c) Irresponsive or bad will in others. II. What is meant by the expression: "the pivotal point of good will"? III. Things which do not constitute it. IV. It does consist in the realistic appreciation of values. These terms defined. V. Reasons for the assertion: a) Common sense; e) Philosophy; b) ExperienCe; f) Sacred Scripture; c) Observation; g) Theology. d) Experimental psychology: gI. The characteristics of the knowledge that is d~]namic, i.e. apt to move or strengthen the will: a) Presentation of the right aspect; e) Actuality: b) Sufficient" quantity ; f) Novelty ; c) Personal reference: g) Affinity and sympathy. d) Immediacy and imagery; VII. Practical conclusions-- 1. To move or strengthen the will for the present: Realize the values of motives: a) Learning what the pertinent values are; Means: b) Serious reflection and prayer, especially mental: c) Organization of the motives. 2. To steady the will in the future: Have the realization in the focus of consciousness at critical moments. a) Recollection; c) Habituation: Means: b) Association; d) Experience. 170 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD WILL SISTER Mary Frail is making her annual retreat. More clearly than she has been wont, she sees the magnifi-cence and beauty of the divine plan for herself, she is delighted with it, and she feels that it would the grand-est thing possible to carry it out in all its fulness. Also she notices that to do so would mean giving up certain rather dear little habitual imperfections. She is torn between two conflicting attracti6ns. Though she is free, and by all means would be pleased to embrace .the whole of the divine plan for her, especially since it is all for her own happiness, still she finds that her will does not respond as she would like. Making his retreat also is Father Inconstant. He finds no great difficulty in resolving upon the noblest courses, but in looking back over many retreats, many excellent resolutions, and many performances not so excellent, be feels rather distressed at the sight of his inconstancy. This time, if possible, he is going to make the new beginning that will stick. Just how--well, that is not too clear to him. Brother Zealous faces a different kind of difficulty. He is a teacher, and he is glad to do everything he can to make good Christians out of his charges. But often enough he finds that his pupils are irresponsive or wilful. Is there anything we can do for Sister Mary Frail, Father Inconstant, and Brother Zealous? Their problems concern wills, their own and those of their charges. Pos-sibly, some consideration of that upon which moral good will turns in a peculiar way, may be of service to them. II. By "the pivotal point of good will" let us under-stand a certain something that precedes good will itself and that, more than anything else, is a condition of its coming into being. Of course it does not determine the will; for man, being free, makes his own determinations, But even the free will is dependent upon previous conditions, and it 171 -G. A. ELLARD is the principal of these that we propose to consider. Ill. This pivotal point of good will cannot be simply knowledge. Hardly anyone would maintain nowadays the old doctrine attributed to Socrates that knowledge makes virtue. It is not freedom of the will; everybody knows by sad experience that he cannot make himself good by a mere fiat of his will, nor even by many of them. Imposition of good habits from without, though continued over a period ,of years, in the discipline, for example, of a boarding school,, may ultimately produce, not what is sought, but a reaction in the contrary direction. Good habits developed freely and from within cannot be the point we are inquir-ing after, primarily because they presuppose much good volition and action, .and the pivotal point is antecedent to these. Nor, to pass to the supernatural order, is grace as such the pivot. Grace could not help to explain natural good will:. Even in supernatural activity, it is not sanctify-ing grace, which of itself is not operative, but a habit in the order of b.elng, not of action. Nor can it be the infused virtues or the gifts-of the Holy Spirit; neither are these of themselves operative; to go into action, they need stimula-tion. In what sense actual grace may fulfill the function we are investigating, will be taken up later on. Prayer, that is, asking God for good will, cannot bethe pivotal point. If the request be granted, the question would remain by what means the good will is brought about. Realistic Appreciation of Values IV. The pivotal point does seem to be found in a realistic, sense or appreciation of values. Let us consider. Everything that is good has value, and therefore value here is understood to be any good. Good is, according to the classical division: the.pleasant, the useful, the proper. Val-ues may be high or low, and positive, like pleasure, or nega- 172 PIVOTAL POINT OF (~00D ~'ILL tive, like pain. Appreciation is the subjective or'personal response to the objective goods that we call values. To appi~eciate is, according to the dictionary, "to set a just value on; to esteem to the full worth of; to be fully sensi-ble of; to exercise a niceperception of worth." Good busi-ness people, like SisterMary Buyer, who has been chosen out.of many to make the purchases for the convent or hos-pital, presumably know how to discern values and prices, In art or literature a man is said to have appreciation if he recognizes or prizes what is beautiful. In general, a person has appreciation if he knows a good thing when he sees it. The wise man has been defined as he who knows true val-ues. Religious who properly evaluate the excellence of God and of His plan have appreciation. Realistic apprecia-tion equals .the reality, or at least approximates the reality, of the value. Appreciation, or evaluation, knowing good things as good, seems to be the vital link between the two spiritual facultieS. It involves knowledge of a certain kind, and thus it is intellectual; since complacency or some other indelib-erate movement of.will must follow the perception of. good or evil, it brings in the will also. In practise, the cultivation of appreciation of true or major values ri~quires the har-monious cooperation of both faculties. V. Among the reasons for placing the pivotal point of good will in a realistic sense or appraisal of values, we may notice the following. Common sense would seem to indicate that it is mo-tives that move the will. But what are motives, directly or indirectly, except values? If athing be of no value to one, why should one bother about it? Our own experience seems to teach the, same. If we consider carefully the best moments and the worst mo-ments in our past lives, and allow for all influences; internal- 173 G, A. ELLARD and external, can we give a better reason for our own inte-rior strength or weakness at such times than that just then our sense of values, our perception of what was really good, ~was most adequate and realistic or least so? A little observation of men shows how eagerly they react to what they value highly; to money, for example, or pleasure, or power, or honor. Salesmen and advertisers achieve their, purpose by inducing people to conceive, the highest possible idea of the worth of their merchandise. Everybody notices how much clerks will put up with from prospective buyers. Would the same persons be so com-plaisant if there were no immediate .gain in view? If it be necessary to, hold his job a man may rather easily bear with the caprices of his employer, ~though at home; with his wife and children, he acts like an 01d bear. Wars, in spite of all their evils, are fought for great economic or. political values. Suppose that, in the iight of experience and observa: tion of men, we. consider this hypothetical case. Let A be anybody who has great sums of money at his disposal. Let B be anybddy else. Let A ask B to do anything that is within the limits of reason. If A0 offer greater and greater amounts of money to B indefinitely, is it likely that B w~ill resist the attraction? Is it not to be expected thathe will yield~ and moreover like it? But money .is only the measure of .material values. That volition is a function Of appreciation or evalua-tion is also a finding of experimental psychology. This is the main practical contention in the works on the w.ill of the distinguished German ~lesuit psychologist, Lindwor-sky1. He specialized in0 the psychology~of~this faculty, and it is to him that I am mostly in~tebted for the ideas in this 1See especially The Training of the ~rill, translated by Steiner and Fitzpatrick (Brute. Mil~.'aukee) ; and The Ps~Icholog~t of Asceticism, translated by Heiring (Edwards: Eondotl). ~ " 174 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD WILL paper. According to Lindworsky, experiments show that volition depends chiefly upon insight into values, without of course being determined by them. The will can embrace whatever appears to it to be of value, and it can become very strong if one feels sufficiently that the value is great enough. To move the will, values must be subjectively. experienced. Keeping a resolution is dependent, not so much upon the energy with which it was made, nor upon an inner general strength of will developed by particular exercises, as upon sufficient initial evaluation and especially upon the presence of it in the focus of consciousness at critical moments. "That the secret of influencing the will lies principally in this, to present the ~right motives at the right time, is no new discovery; . it was always the doctrine of the tradi-tional Scholastic psy, chology": so writes Hertling2, a con-temporary authority in ascetical theology. From modern American psychologists: "Forcing oneself to an early rising, and compelling oneself to run six times around the barn before breakfast, or to do some other useless and diffi-cult thing daily, will not bring the result sought for . Will training implies bringing sufficient motivation into play.''8 Philosophy teaches that the object of the will is good that is known. There are two elements expressed in the object and a third is implied. The first is goodness, real or apparent. Hence no one can expect to influence the will except by proposing some good to it. To do anything else would be like trying to make one see what has no color or to hear something that is not sounding. Knowledge is the second requisite, and it is just as necessary. If one had an opportunity to pick up a million dollars, but did not ~Hertling: Lehrbuch der Aszetlschen Theologie (Rauch, Innsbruck), p. 177. 8Goult and Howard: Outline of General Ps~lcholog~l, pp. 338-339. 175 G. A. ELLARD notice it, nothing would come of it. Thirdly, the good whichis presented and known, must be apprehended not merely as true or in any other way, but as good. Where there is no good or no perception of it, there can be no voli-tion. If the good be sufficiently great and seen with suf-ficient clarity, there can be no resistance to its-attraction, as happens with the Infinite Goodness and Beauty in the beatific vision. Hence, in general, the greater the good and .the clearer one's knowledge of it, the more likely the will's acceptance of it, and the more energetic and constant that acceptance will be: Sacred Scripture seeks to move men mostly by prom-ising good things and threatening evil things. But these are values, positive or negative. Christ Himself appears to have indicated what the will follows in such texts as these: "For where thy treasure is, there shall thy heart be also" (Matthew 6: 21). "For what shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his soul? Or what shall a man give asaprice for his soul?" (Matthew 16: 26). "The kingdom of the heavens is like unto a treasure hid in the field, which a man findeth and covereth; and in his j6y he goeth and selleth.all that he hath and buyeth that field. Again, the .kingdom of the hea~'ens is like unto a merchant in search of. goodly pearls; and when he .hath found one pearl of great price, he goeth and selleth all that he hath and buyeth it" (Matthew 13: 44-46). A theological consideration: interior actual grace helps us to do good or avoid evil by enlightening the mind and inspiring the will. Psychologically Speaking, one would say that grace moves the will by enlightening the mind. The indeliberate inclination excited in the will corresponds to the ideas aroused in the intelligence. Light relative to a practical step can conceivably bear upon any or all of these three points: what is to be done, why it is to be done, and 176 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD '~rILL bow it is to be done. The firstalone would be quite insuf-ficient, and might well be deterrent, as when an unpleasant duty is indicated. To show why a thing is to be done: what is this but to manifest its motives or values, to reveal that it is becoming, profitable, necessary, and so on? In this way, by giving one a subjective appreciation, actual grace enters into the pivotal point of supernatural good will. It tends to correct that perversity which the prophet Isaias denounces: "Woe to you that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for dark-ness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter" (Isaias 5: 20). It gives one something of that gift of the Messias: "that he may know to refuse the evil, and to choose the good" (Isaias 7:. 15). In modern terms, it enables one to share in Christ's sense of value. The Church has incorporated into the Breviary4 a famous passage of St. Augustine in which he comments on the text: "No one can come to me, except the Father . draw him" (John 6: 44), and uses a quotation from Ver-gil: "If the poet could say, 'Each one's pleasure draws him,'5 not necessity but pleasure, not obligation, but delight, how much more strongly ought we to say that the man is drawn to Christ who is delighted with truth, delighted With beatitude, delighted with justice, delighted with everlasting life, all of which Christ is? . You show a green branch to a sheep and you draw it. Sweets are shown to a child, and he is drawn. Because he runs, he is drawn; he is drawn byloving; without injury to body he is drawn; with bonds of the heart he is drawn. If. earthly delights and pleasures revealed to lovers draw them; does not Christ, revealed by the Father, draw us? For what does the soul desire more strongly than the truth?''° 4Ember Wednesday after Pentecost; Lessons 7-9. 5Eclogues, II, 65. OTractatus 26 in doannem. 177 G. A. ELLARD It may be objected that we know enough or too much already. What we need is not more knowledge, but more willing. Sometimes that is true. But at other times, it may be asked; have we the right kind of knowledge, and enough of that kind? In ~any case, if a man cannot directly make a decision that he would like to make, what do you advise him to try? Have you anything better than that he should reconsider his motivation? Dynamic Knowledge VI. Now let us see if we can discern what kind of knowledge of ~;alues it is that, as it were, magnetizes the will. It is a certain, dynamic knowledge, found to be char-acterized more or less by the following attributes. First, it will present things under the right aspect, that is, it will propose things, not as true--the usual function of knowledge--but as good or evil, lovely or odious, beau-tiful or hideous, and so on. Such are the phases of things that it will bring out into relief. A quotation from the psychologist James will illus-trate what is meant by the right aspect. Consider "the case of an habitual drunkard under temptation. He has made a resolve to reform, but he is now solicited again by the bottle. His moral triumph orfailure lil~erally consists in his finding the right name for the case. If he says that it is a case of not wasting good liquor already poured out, or a case of not being churlish and unsociable when in the midst of friends, or a case of learning something at last about a brand of whiskey he never met before, or a case of celebrating a public holiday, or a case .of stimulating him-self to a more energetic resolve in favor of abstinence than any he has ever yet made, then he is lost. His choice of the wrong name seals his doom. But if, in spite of all the plausible good names with which his thirsty fancy so copi- 178 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD WILL ously furnishes him, he unwaveringly clings to the truer bad name and apperceives the case as that of 'being a drunk-ard, being a drunkard, being a drunkard,' his feet are planted on the road to salvation. He saves himself by thinking rightly.''7 The right aspect is not enough. There must also be a certain quantitg in the knowledge. It must be sufficiently clear, evident, rich, and full. In fact, the closer it approaches equality to the reality, the better. This is a particularly important dement in the realism of dynamic appreciation. Hence, obscure, vague, or hazy conceptions of the most tremendous realities may remain inert and sterile. Moreover, personal rfference is vitally necessary. To see that a thing matters to another may leave me unaffected. I must see the vital importance of it for my own dear self. In the last analysis evaluations must be based on one's past experiences of pleasure, pain, or love. Through these gen-uine experiences present knowledge must be vitalized. A man, for example, who does not remember vividly how it feels to have his finger burned, is in no position to begin to imagine how it would feel to be consumed with raging fires in the infernal regions. If one should never have experi-enced the thrill of unselfish love, one could hardly under-stand God's absolute loveliness and make an act of divine charity. Nor could a man who ha~ never been aroused by created beauty react to the Uncreated Beauty. Personal reference is necessary in another sense also. Great things have many values or suggest many motives, some of them apt to appeal to one and others t6 another. Each one must discover those that evoke interest and response in himself and exploit them. One soul may love God as a father, another as a friend, and a third as a spouse. 7James: Talks to Teachers, pp. 187-188. 179 (3. A. ELLARD Two more marks of dynamic recognition of worth are iramediac~t and iraaqer~. Direct perception of an object is much more apt to stir one than knowledge that is only mediate, discursive, or abstract, because it is closer to the object and more like it. Hence .the weakness, from an affective and effective point of vie.w, of reasoning and argu-ments. Love at sight, even to infatuation, is said to occur at times; but nothing like it is possible when men and women know each other only through description or cor-respondence. A dreadful catastrophe may horrify one who sees it but leave.a reader little affected. To make up for lack of immediate knowledge when it cannot be had, the imagination must be used. The more vivid and realtand rich the imagery, the better. The human mind is depend-ent on the senses and the imagination. Hence, to get at the emotions and, through them, the will, fill the imagination. "Empathy," the ability "to feel-oneself into situations," for example, into the Gospel scenes, or into the conse-quences of one's choices, into the pleasures or pains that may follow them, can compensate to some extent for the deficiencies of indirect knowledge. Happily most of the moral and spiritual values may be contemplated in the concrete in persons who have real-ized them. The scale would range from Christ, the Blessed Virgin, and the Saints down to the humblest person who has Something to be admired and imitated. Actuatit~I of knowledge gives it power. It is of deci-sive importance that the motives be actually before con-sciousness at the critical moments when they are moit needed and least likely to be there. It is not enough that they be stored away in the recesses of the memory. Actual consciousness, for instance, of the ~ttractions of unchaste pleasure may win the battle against merely habitual aware-ness of the reasons for keeping chaste. The force of occa- 180 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD 'q~rlLL sions of sin illustrates well the characteristics of dynamic knowledge that we have been reviewing; the impression they produce is thoroughly realistic. Nooeln.I is also an aid, as it makes a greater appeal to the sensibilities. Hence, ~o keep a good idea from losing its motive power, consider it from new angles and find new beauties in it. Since choice is always comparative, a preference of one thing to another, superiority! of knowledge of one alterna-tive gives it an added chance of being taken. A slight value well known may be preferred to a much greater one less well known. In general, .other things being equal, that alternative will be chosen the values of which are better known or predominant in the focus of consciousness at the time. FinaliSt, a factor of knowledge that induces prefer-ential appreciation is found in the subject himself, namely. a certain s~tmpath~t, based on a natural or supernatural affinity: the "connaturality" discussed by St. Thomas in the Summas. The classical example, from Aristotle on, is the chaste man's knowledge of chastity as opposed to the theoretical ethician's. With respect to the Supreme or Absolute Value, that is, to God, this affinity is founded principally upon the essential relations of the creature to the Creator and of sonship to the Divine Father. Such seems to be the kind of knowledge that leads to willing and to action. It does not make one learned, and may be greater in the ignorant peasant than in a scholar or theologian. But if its object be divine values, it will help to make one wise and holy. If we could make our knowledge and estimation of eternal values equal to our appraisal of temporal things, our probation would be over. We cannot, to cite an 88umraa Tbeologic~, 2a, 2ae, q. 45, a. 2. 181 G. A. ELLARD instance, have an experimental knowledge of God in this life, though the mystics do lay claim to just that or some-thing like it, and in the light of it they conceive for God a love like that fierce, overwhelming, personal love which arises between man and woman. On the other hand, and to our misfortune, the false or minor values of material things do solicit us through precisely that form of knowl-edge which is thoroughly realistic and dynamic. There-fore it is all the more imperative for us to be mindfully aware of the advantages that sensible attractions have over spiritual, values, and in oposition to do whatever we can to compensate for the difference. Practical Corollaries VII. Suppose we consider separately the cases in which ¯ one wishes to influence a will at the moment and in the future, or what is about the same thing, making a resolu-tion now and endeavoring to secure its observance in the future. 1. To move the will now, and to charge it with power, get l~y all available means the maximum possible appreciation of the values or motives that are pertinent, and diminish as much as possible any antagonistic evalua-tion. ¯ First, it is important rightly to discern just what ought to be done, that is, in our case, what the law of God is or what He prefers. Missing this point, through impru-dence or scrupulosity or laxity, is not conducive to good will. But then focus attention, feeling, and effort on the advantages, gains, and reasons for so acting. Not u~bat ought to be done is to be stressed, but the u;h~/'s. Imitate the clever salesman who sells his wares by persuading the potential buyer that it is really to his own interest and profit to buy. Exhortation had better take this form than a tedious repetition of "Let us'es" or "Let us not's." Put 182 PIVOTAL" POINT OF GOOD WILL the accent, not on the rights of authority, but on the advantages to the subject in obeying; these include the values of obedience itself. Even if you urge that it is God's will, try to explain whg He wills it, what values He has in mind. With most persons, begin with a stron.g appeal to self-interest; then proceed to the nobler interests, such as God's; Christ's, souls'. Very especially in case something difficult or distressing be involved, for example, self-- abnegation, or love of the Cross, the greater the disagree-able feature, the greater must be the emphasis on the good aspects and results. This is a simple psychological neces-sity. Some who exhort to abnegation would seem to think the greater the evil, the more it will be welcomed. Mere negatives--"Dont's"--are never inspiring, and therefore negative resolutions should somehow be given a positive character and value, for instance,-by substitution or sub-limation. To acquire a dynamic sense of moral values two chief means are available; first, to learn what those means are; and secondly, by serioi~s reflection and prayer, to take their measure or realize their magnitude. What the values are is to be learned by study and reading or listening to sermons and conferences. We could not attempt to outline them here. But it may be sug-gested that the perfect man Would strive to know and will .the same values that. God Himself wills and to have a simi-lar appreciation of them. They are the Infinite Goodness Itself and the excellences of the divine cosmic plan, cul-minating in divine beatitude for an,gels and men, with immunity from all evil, for eternity. Included in that plan would be the sublime grandeurs of the Incarnation and of its effects in time and eternity. Next in order is to work up an adequate appreciation of these motives, justly to appraise them, to recognize their 183 G. A. ELLARD ' full worth, to feel their force and significance. This is ~o be done principally by serious reflection and prayer, or better, by both together, that is, by mental prayer. This is the great means and hence the supreme importance and efficacy of it in the spiritual life. St. Thomas has a whole article in the Summa to demonstrate that "contemplation or meditation is the cause of devotion.''9 In it he quotes these words from St. Augustine: "the act of the will arises from understanding." Without mental prayer, or something approaching it, one cannot expect much grasp of moral values: such is human nature. The senses and the world overwhelm one with their values, which are in possession. as it were, from the beginning. A counterbalancing per-ception of the worth of things divine does not come with faith nor without effort. The germ of it.is there, but it must be developed. The human spirit is immersed in mat-ter, and if it is to raise itself above material attractions and maintain itself upon that superior level, it-must exert its forces with an energy comparable to that of the powerful motors of the big clippers or flying-fortresses. This means in the beginning hard thinking and much of it, with ener-getic and sustained will-activity corresponding to the light won. In mental prayer.a vitalized and dynamic insight is gained into divine truths and values, the will reacts and responds at once, the appropriate affections are elicited, the consequences of possible courses of action are carefully weighed and felt in anticipation, the correct moral atti-tudes are assumed, practical resolutions are made and their execution rehearsed, many fervent petitions are made, and grace, coming in ever increasing measure, deepens and enhances the whole process. In a word, one is filled with that light, good will, and strength which are needed to ful-fil one's part in God's magnificent plan. 9Summa Theologica, 2a, 2ae, q. 83, a. 3. 184 PIVOTAL POINT OF GOOD WILL If one cultivati~ m~ntal prayer well and sufficiently, he will also use all the other means to spiritual advancement and thus he will become perfect. If one be faithful in the lower degrees of mental prayer, he may be led on even to mystical contemplation, wherethe labor will be less, and the infused light, appreciation, and love may be incom-parably greater. Mostly in the intimate commerce of con-templation do the spouses of God come to their peculiar experience and all-absorbing love of Him. The funda-mental difference between a mere believer, a person of medi~ ocre virtue, and a saint, seems to be that, whereas they all assent to the same truths, the believer hardly does more, the mediocre person feels to some extent what they mean, and the saint truly realizes their significance. All the motives, general and particular, having been considered, they are to be assembled and associated together, so that one may recall the others, and then they are to be thrown into the scales against their false contraries, and proposed for acceptance to the will, with an inexorable "either. or!" 2. To aid in securing future execution of a resolution, four means in particular are effective: recollection, associa-tion, habituation, and experience. Recollection will tend tO prevent the light and warmth of one's vivid appreciation from vanishing into the dark-n~ ss. God and divine things are in themselves interesting, and if one's insight into them has been sufficient, interest in them will spontaneously spring up. Then without too much difficulty interest will direct attention; attention to divine values will keep them in the field of consciousness; and naturally the affections and will should follow. One should foresee as far as possible the occasions in which one's constancy will be put to the test, and deter-mine in advance by .what precise means one is going to 185 G. A. ELLARD react. "The modern psychology of will teaches that mere volition accomplishes nothing, unless a definite "way of behaving has been planned and practised.''1° Then the occa-sion, the resolution with its means, ~nd the motives, already organized among themselves, are to be associated together in thought as firmly as possible, so that when the occasion comes, it may recall into the focus of consciousness the reso-lution with its means, and this in turn the whole constella-tion of motives. Thus their cumulative force will be available, and successful action may be expected. To illustrate by'an example from Lindworsky: John notices that whenever he meets Charles on the way to work, he falls into uncharitable conversation. He adds to his gen-eral resolve not tofail against charity this means, that when he meets Charles again, he will promptly open a discussion of such or such a topic. Thus he links together all four: -the occasion, the r.esolution, the precise means, and the ¯ motives. 1~ All the procedures indicated in the preceding pages can be cultivated more and more until they become solid l~abits of virtue. Thus greater sureness, facility, and perfection in good are acquired. With every success in accomplishing what one desires, one actually feels and experiences to a certain extent the fruition of one's ideals and values, and thus one's appreciation of them becomes ever more realistic, and more like the divine or Christiike sense of what is of value. If with sufficient realism you. see that your treasure is ~n the Infinite Goodness of the Blessed Trinity and in the advantages of the divine plan, you will find your will there also. lOLindworsky: The P~cbolog~/ of Asceticism, p. 38. ~lbid.o p. 37. 186 Scruples Versus !:he Human Gerald Kelly~ S.3. THIS sketch concerns two characters, both of whom .are "| purely fictitious. Any resemblance to any person in real life.is a mere coincidence. One character is called Humanus, because he represents the ordinary conscientious human being, one who is.cheerfully content to be .~'like the rest of men," The other character is Scrupulosus, so-called because he typifies the victims of that gnawing and unfounded fear of sin known as scruples. ' For Scrupulosus, a supreme difficulty is to appreciate what may be called "the human way of acting." It is hard to.define this human way. It expresses itself in a quiet resignation to the fact that human problems cannot be solved with the exactness of mathematical problems. ~.It is an essential requisite for peace among men and for interior peace with God and oneself. Humanus takes this human way in full, easy stride. A reliable man tells him something; he believes it without struggle. True, the .man might be wrong, might be lying, using a mental reservation, or even deceiving himself. But Humanus does not tr6uble himself about these things, unless there is some reM evidence.to make him suspect them. When a man gives him money, Humanus does not bite it or ring it on a counter. He knows the possibility of counter-feit money; but he knows .too that social life demands that we practise a certain amount of trust in the good will of others. (Incidentally, the author once lived in a place where there must have been a great deal of. counterfeiting. Every time one paid for something in coins, a cautious clerk rang the coin on~the counter. It was most distressing.) . ¯ . Humanus follows the.same human way in his dealings with Go&and himself.God made him huma'n; God.ought GERALD KELLY to be content if he simply acts humanly. And he has enough troubles in life without suspecting himself unduly. Scrupulosus can follow the human way in his dealings with other men; but in those things which concern God and himself he is decidedly inhuman. He seems to thinl~ that, in dealing with God, he must have God's own unerring and penetrating vision of the human heart; that in dealing with himself none of the canons of human peace are applicable. Perhaps a few examples will make this clear. The Sacrament of Penance, truly a Sacrament of peace according .to our Lord's designs, affords no real peace to Scrupulosus. Definitely, it is a torture; a torture to go. a torture to stay away. And the reason for the torment, to put it simply, is that the reception of this Sacrament involves four elements---examination of conscience, con-fession, contrition, satisfaction--each of which can be fulfilled only :in a human way. Suppose we follow Humanus and Scrupulosus through an examination of conscience. Humanus says a few pre-liminary prayers, then looks into-his soul. This is riot a very strenuous process for him;in fact, it verges on sheer routine. Humanus is conscious of the fact that he could improve his method, but he also knows that he fulfills all the essentials. Mortal sins first; and it does not take him long to find :them. Heis no laxist. He knows a mortal sin when he sees one; but he. knows too that they are big enough to be seen with the naked eye. On some Com-mandments he does not even examine himself. Idolatry, murder, robbing banks--all such things are off his list. He would waste his time searching his soul for them. If he does find that he has sinned seriously, he notes the number of times; and if he cannot recall the number, he is content to add the saving word "about." If he is doubtful about the serious sinfulness of~anything--well--he is doubtful: 188 SCRUPLES VERSUS THE HUMAN '~AY There is no use wrestling with the doubt now; if he could not solve it before, he is less likely to solve it now. Venial sins? Humanus knows there were many little things, but it is often hard to cat~ilogue them. He selects two or three, and phrases them as best he can. Sometimes he numbers venial sins, sometimes he doesn't; and he" knows tha~ the number need not be confessed. Finally, Humanus makesan act Of contrition. In this, too, there is a trace of dry routine. Humanus has often resolved to "polish it up" a bit. Contrition never causes him worry; though it has at times puzzled him. However, he has solved the puzzle in the following manner. When a friend offends him and afterwards comes to him, holds out his hand and says he is sorry, Humanus takes the hand and forgives. He never looks to see if there are tears in the man's eyes. He does not stop before forgiving to ask: "Now, John, are you sure you're sorry? Can you swear you're sorry? Do you t:eel sorry? Maybe you're deceiving me, or yourself?" No, Humanus does none of these things; so he solved his puzzle about contrition by deciding that God doesn, t act that way, either. God is content with our just being human. Scrupulostis also examines his conscience! After lengthy preparatory prayers, he finally musters the courage to plunge into the .abysmal depths of his black soul. He goes after mortal sins with searchlight and microscope; and at the end of the search he is amazed that he hasn't found any. That cannot be right. There must be some; at least, there might be some some grim deed that his lax conscience is covering up. Further examination still fails to reveal a clear-cut mortal sin, but by this time he has managed to work up a doubt. Now, is he doubtful? He'd better con-. less it as certain, because if he only thinks he is doubtful and really is not doubtful he will be deceiving the priest. 189 GERALD KELLY As for venial sins, he must have scores of them. Missed morning prayers--distractions in the prayers he did say! He has been told that missing morning prayers is really no .sin, that there is no law of either God or man that says: You must pray in the morning. But be ought to pray in the morning. As for distractions, he has also been told that when involuntary they are not sins, and that even when voluntary they are merely small irreverences. But be ought not to get distracted; it is base ingratitude for him to neglect God in that manner. He'd better give the number of the distractions: 15--no, perhaps it was only 14. He cannot make up his mind, so he decides to say 15; in fact, he finally decides to give the whole background of the ghastly affair. And so on. It is time for him to go to confession. He is not ready, but he will try. Humanus makes his confession, returns to his pew and says his penance and a few prayers of devotion. The time passes very quietly. He leaves the church, full of peace and ready, as he has often.expressed it, "to be hit by a truck." In a general way, he knows that his .confession is not mechanically perfect. Sometimes be does not say things just as he had planned them; he becomes confused, dis-tracted, or even a bit embarrassed. Also--and he has this on the authority of adevout priest--he knows that the confessor may get distracted, or even nod a bit. But this percentage of error does not greatly concern Humanus. God Himself arranged that this Sacrament should be received and administered by human beings. The essentials are quite easy to fulfill; the accidentals allow both the priest and the penitent the opportunity to strive for greater perfectio.~l and increase in humility. It should: be evident from the story of his preparation that no great peace floods the soul of Scrupulosus as he emerges from the confessional. Nevertheless, he grits his 190 SCRUPI~S VERSUS THE HUMAN ~rAY teeth and kneels dowh to say his penance. Three .Hail Marys! He literally "tackles" the first one. But in the middle something goes wrong; he must have missed a word. He starts again, and then again; but he cannot satisfy himself that that Hail Mary is properly said. As he pauses'in desperation, the whole blurred story of the confession begins to unfold before his mind. Nothing was said right. The priest must have misunderstood him com-pletely. The fact that he got only three Hail Marys con-firms him in this fear; if the priest had understood him cor-rectly, he would have given him at least a Rosary. At this moment, a new source of interior torment opens up. Even if the confession had been good, the absolution could not be valid because he did not make a real: act of con-trition. He just went through some words. God must know that he was not really sorry. And his confessions have been that way for a long time; he'simply must make a gen-eral confession. He has made general confessions before without any subs.equent peace of soul, but this one will be different. We might take Holy Communion as another example of the difference between Humanus and Scrupulosus. It should be one of the supreme consolations of the Cath-olic's life. The essentials for its reception are very small: the state of grace, acquired by Sacramental absolution, if need be; and the keeping of.the fast from midnight. Humanus finds the fulfillment of these conditions simple enough. He is satisfied with normal, .human assur-ance that he is in the state of grace. If he doubts about a serious sin, he generally prefers to go to confession, but he knows he has no strict obligation to do so, and he is con-- tent on occasions merely to make an act of contrition and go to Communion. The fast presents him with no prob-lem at all. The law is a safeguard to the reverence due the 191 GERALD KELLY Blessed Sacrament. It forbids eating and drinking after midnight. Humanus knows what ordinary people look upon as eating and drinking, and he does not have to con-sult a chemist~ to find out just what is food. or a physiologist to discover precisely what is meant by eating. All these things are so many thorns for S~'rupulosus. How does he know he is in the state of grace? He can't prove it. He is not sure he can make an act of contrition, so he must always go to confession when in doubt. It may be that his confessor has assured him again and again that, in his present trial, he mayalways~go to Communion, no matter what his doubts, no matter how many sins he thinks he has committed. Even after this and though he knows that the Providence ofGod guides souls through superiors and confess.ors, yet his case is different, and the confessor does not really understand it. As for the fast, here is but one of Scrupulosus'.many hard experiences with it. He is on his way to Mass. His lips tickle. .He rubs his coat-sleeve over his mouth. A moment later he feels something strange in his mouth-- some lint from his coat, he thinks! He gathers all his salivary forces to remove it, but he is too late. He swallows. Well, that's the end. He has broken his fast, he may not go to Communion. This is his first conviction, but in church a gleam of saving common sense is still able to pierce the fog of fear and he does go to Holy Communion. Later the fear returns with a vengeance. He made a sacrilegious Communion. After that, one thing leads to another. He begins to notice a strange taste in his mouth every morning--the lint from the bedclothes! He tries again and again to remove it; but the consciousness of the lint remains, and with it the conviction that he may not receive Communion. There are two ways of solving this lint problem. One 192 SCRUPLES VERSUS THE HUMAN WAY way is to consult a trained theologic/n, wh~ might show Scrupulo~us by keen argumentation that lint is not food, or who might indicate that, even if. it were food, it was not taken "in the manner of food." This is a perfectly legiti-mate method of solving the problem, but hardly a satis-factory one for Scrupul0sus. It allows for too much quibbling, and, even when it does convince, its appeal is only to the intellect. Scrupulosug needs something that will impress his imagination and thus remove the emo-tional pressure of his fears. The second method is therefore a much better one for -Scrupulosus. It is a method suggested by an old and experienced diagnostician of his problem. It is very simple. "You take awoolly blanket, the woollier the bet-ter. Seize firmly in both hands, raise to the mouth with-out flinching, and bite hard. When you have a good bite, then you chew thoroughly and trot to swallow.'" This is a guaranteed cure. After one such experiment Scrupulosus needs no metaphysical discussion to be °con: vinced that human beings do not eat coats or blankets. In this matter, at least, he will be content with ?he human toad. No one-should gather from this brief sketch of Huma-nus and Scrupulosus that the latter does not wish to act as others do. His difficulty .is more subtle. Briefly put, it amounts to thi~: he cannot relax. 'He is like a sick man who fights an anesthetic; or, perhaps more accurately, he is like a man who will take the anesthetic, even if it kills him. So it is with Scrupulosus; at times he fights his fears, at other times he clenches his fists and says he will be human. Neither method will help him. He must relax under the pressure of his fear. This is not easy to do; yet it can be done if only one retains the power of laughing at oneself. For Scrupulosus, a sense of humor is more precious than the gift of tears. 193 Nint:s t:or Sacris!:ans Gerald Ellard, S.J. SACRISTANS for whom its cost or other considerations make Self-Lite Charcoal undesirable may readily secure the advantage of a large glowing surface with ordinary charcoal in the following way. After the unlighted charcoal ~has been placed in the censer, a little wood-alcohol is allowed to, drip on it and soak into it. It is then ignited, and, when the alcohol has burned away, the charcoal will be alight through and through and thus able, when fed with incense, to send up what is actually something like a pillar of smoke, a symbol of prayer visible to the entire congre-gation. The matter of securing the most suitable incense within the means of all is no small concern, and prompts one to mention a variety now being used with eminent satisfac-tion. Its cost is very low' but it is not on sale, as far as we know, in the church-goods houses. Trees of Syria exude a balm that is known in trade as. olibanum. This fragrant and gummy substance is widely used in varnish-making. It is graded in trade circles by the size of the lumps: egg (large) and tears (small). Tears of olibanum make an ideal incense.:~ Stocks available in this country may not.~ last much longer, but up to the present time wholesale drug dealers have had no difficulty in supplying it. The tears should not be powdered, as much of the fragrance would be lost, but burned as they come. In sacristies serving a large number of priests the prob-lem of quickly providing each priest with an alb of just the right length often proves formidable. A Chicago church 194 HINTS TO SACRISTANS where many Masses are the daily rule has at the edge of its alb-cabinet, at shoulder height, an unobtrusive measure indicating the number of inches from the floor. A priest has just to hold up an alb to the measure to see if it is the proper length for his use. It may no longer be news .to sacristans that candle~ burners in pyrex glass are now available in all candle sizes. In style they follow-not the older lamp-chimney shape, which "black out" tOO much of the candle flame and cause difficulties in lighting the candles, but the snug, dose-fitting sleeve pattern. The pyrex burners have all the advantages of the better type of metal burners, with the big additional one of beirig practically invisible. Sacristans shudder to see priests, in adjusting the man-iple, disregard the little tab provided for pinning, .and run the pin.into the precious fabric of the maniple itself. This is riot perverseness, but a measure of necess!ty (or rather, convenience), inasmuch as many of these little .tabs are too narrow to aliow one to run a pin crossways. Many new vestments now provide a shield-shape, or even semicircular, tab which affords ample room for pinning without being conspicuous. In repairing vestments sacristans might well provide such "pin-space." A strict law of the Church prescribes that the priest mix a "very small quantity;', of water with the wine to be consecrated at Mass. Most priests wish to take only a few drops of ,water; and sacristans can help them in this regard by filling the .water cruet almost to the top. When the cruet is pract.ica!ly full, it is easy to shake out a few drops. This is not so easy to do when the neck of the cruet is empty. 195 The Presumed Permission James E. Risk, S.J. THE philosophers tells us that what happens by chance happens rarely and cannot be foreseen. The Church, in her legislation, makes provision for many unusual situations that have arisen in the course of her past history, and may arise again. Hence she grants to all priests emer-gency faculties such as to absolve from censures, to assist at marriages and to perform other priestly functions. Fac-ulties of this kind are not granted to all priests save in cases of spirituhl emergency. Now, the most conscientious reli-gious, too, will find himself at times in an unforeseen situ-ation where permissions required by his vow of poverty or obedience are needed; where the delay necessarily in-volved in obtaining such permissions cannot be admitted. Unusual circumstances arisirig from the uncertainties of travel or health may, for example, produce a situation calling for the legitimate application of the principles gov-erning the presumed permission. Since actions based on presumed permissions should be the exceptioh in the normal life ofa religious, the older theologians took great care to limit their number to the minimum, lest a too liberal application of the-norms of presumption tend to obviate the necessity of asl~ing for many of the ordina~ry permissions. Sincere reflection and a normal exercise of foresight will lead a religious to limit the number of presumed permissions, while a ready ad-mission by superiors that unforeseen situations are, from time to time, inevitable, will prompt them to make allow-ances for the reasonable presumptions of their subjects. Though the question of presumed permissions is by no means limited to the field of religious poverty, it is chiefly from this angle that we shall endeavor to examine it. 196 THE ~RESUMED ~ERMISSION Various Kif~ds or: Permissions Progress in the exercise of religious poverty demands an accurate knowledge of the various kinds of permis-sions granted by superiors. By obtaining permission to acquire, dispose of, and use material things possessing some economic value such as books, money- and the like, the religious is faithful to the obligations freely accepted when he vowed poverty. He does not act in his own name nor as an independent proprietor, but as a poor man who has nothing that he can .truly call his own. Acting w~th-out permission in these matters, he violates his vow by committing what many moralists choose to call a "sin of proprietorship." They say that such a religious acts like a man who is bound by no vow of poverty and is independ-ent of any superior in the acquisition, use, or disposal of property. The commentators on the religious life usually speak of superiors as granting permissions; though in most communities there is generally appointed an assistant su-perior who is empowered to grant many of the ordinary permissions demanded by the obligations of the vow of poverty. Our purpose in examining the nature of the pre-sumed permission leads us to comment briefly on the other forms of permission employed by a religious in the observ-ance of his vow. This will serve to clear the ground for a more accurate understanding of the presumed permission. We spea~k of an express permission as one given by word of mouth or in writing, indicating unmistakably the mind of the superior. A tacit permission, as the very name implies, is p[udently considered as granted from the silence of the superior, who is aware of certain actions that are governed by poverty or obedience. The axiom "silence gives consent" may be reasonably applied when circum-stances are such that, if the superior objected, he would voice his disapproval. An implied permission is one that 197 JAMES E. R~sK is contained in another permission. The permission of a superior, for example, authorizing a /eligious to make a trip, implies the permission to use the funds necessary for traveling. A general permission may embrace many acts of the same or different species. In some religious commu-nities there prevails the practice of renewing each month general permissions in virtue of which a religious may ac-quire or dispose of objects of a very small economic value, such as articles of devotion and the like. The extent of such permission depends on-the constitutions, rules and customs Of the institute. A particular permission .is granted for an individual case. Such a permission, how-ever, if the superior so desired, might be extended not only to a singie occasion but to several occasions calling for the same permission. Thus, permission granted to an ailing religious to consult a specialist might be limited to a single visit or extended to several, according to the nature of the indisposition requiring attention. The Presumed Permission Authors who have treated of the obligations of the religious life agree that a religious is justified in presuming permission when, owing to some inconvenience in obtain-ing permission without delay, he prudently decides that if the superior in the present circumstances, were .asked for the same permission, he would readily grant it. Now be-fore proceeding further, let it be noted that there is one very substantial difference between the presumed permis-sion and. every other kind. All permissions save the pre-sumed permission have this note in common, namely, that they are expressions of the will of the superior who knows the wish of the subject and freely grants it. In doing so, he says, equivalently at least, "I grant you permission for this or that object." Yet when we examine the presumed per- 198 THE I~RESUMED PERMISSION mission, we find that the superior cannot say this for the simple reason that he is unaware of the subject's wish. This leads us to conclude that the presumed permission is, not a permission in the strict sense of the word, but it is a legitimate substitution; and the act resulting from a sin-cere presumption, whether it lies in the sphere of poverty or obedience, is quite in accord with the obligations arising from the religious vows. The religious is acting, not in his own name, but with a clear dependence on the will of the superior. To come more properly to an examination of the pre-sumed permission, the following points of division are suggested by the definition of the presumed permission given above. We must consider: I) On the part of thereligious who presumed: a) the inabitit~/ tO obtain permission in one its ordinarg forms, b) the motioes sufficient to justifg a presump-tion; c) a prudent conclusion. Z) On the part of the superior: the different~mental attitudes towards a presumed permission. Our first condition requisite for the legitimate pre-suming of a permission is the inability to obtain permis-sion in one of its ordinary forms because of the absence of the superior. The most circumspect religious may encoun-ter such a situation when both superior and assistant are .abse, nt or indisposed or so occupied as to permit no inter-ruption. If the proposed action of the religious is so urgent as to exclude a delay until such time as the superior may be contacted, permission may be presumed, supposing the .other conditions are fulfilled. In the second place sufficient motives, reducible to ne- 199 JAMES E. RISK cessity or utility, are required to make a presumpt.ion law-ful. Let us suppose that, while traveling, two sisters are caught in a heavy rainstorm that gives little hope of imme-diate abatement. An umbrella would be a very welcome addition to their equipment in the present predicament. To purchase an umbrella without delay may be instru-mental in protecting their health as. well as their clothing. In such straits it would be quite unnecessary to look for a telephone so as to obtain express permission to make this necessary purchase. The same religious now proceed to browse through a book store while waiting for a train. To their pleasant surprise a rare and very valuable book, much sought after by their superior, meets their eye. It is available at an extremely reduced rate. A real service would be rendered the convent by the immediate purchase of such a book. A situation such as this might even justify the conclusion that the permission to buy the book ought to be presumed. The prudent in.terpretation of the superior's mind, the third requisite for a valid presumption, must never be wanting. On this point, the commentators supply us with expressions that furnish a key to the solution of many a problem that in practice may arise when we wish to justify a presumed permission. They say: "_ . it is prudently judged that permission would be given if asked"; "Per-mission reasonably presumed is sometimes sufficient"; "To presume permission is to act conformably to the will of the $a p er" t "o't ; and so forth. "Prudent"l y" , reasonabl"y, and "conformably to the will of the superior" indicate that a well-founded judgment enters into the very character of the presumed permission. Resting on the basis of whim or hallucination, instead of prudence and reflection, the act of the presuming religious is not to be dignified by the title of a permission; it is rather a gratuitous-presumption or 200 THE PRESUMED PERMISSION the sin of proprietorship. The reasons tha~ justify the prudent judgment will at least approximate those which in ordinary circumstances influence the conscientious superior in consenting to the requests of his subjects. Such reasons will be reduced ulti-mately to necessity or utility in harmony with the norms of the particular religious institute of which both superior and subject are members. For each religious order or con-gregation professes a more or less definite standard in these matters, admitting, for example,, in the matter of poverty, the use of some things as necessary or useful, while exclud-ing others as superfluous or even detrimental to the. spirit-ual interests 6f the religious. With this in mind, the reli-gious about to presume a permission knows that the habit-ual attitude of the superior is to abide by these norms in granting permissions, that the object desired in the present emergency has been granted on other occasions by the same superior, that there is no reason that leads him to suspect that in the present situatioi~ the superior would act differ-ently. Thus, a religi6us says to himself, equivalently at least, "If, here and now; I should ask the superior to grant me this request, I am reasonably certain that he would readily grant it." He comes to this conclusion after hav-ing deliberated on his particular rule of life and the habit-ual inclination of ~i conscientious superior. The "if" clause just expressed is always at least implied in the legitim~te presumption. This explains why the presumed permission is sometimes called the conditioned permission. The per-mission that would involve the acceptance of gifts of an incon.sequential value can be much more readily presumed than the more costly kind. Needless to say, in practise the reasoning process re-quired for a presumed permission is far more quickly con-cluded than described. While walking through town, a 201 religious priest meets a crippled beggar, whom he knows to be sincere. He gives the poor man a few small coins on the presumption that his superior would not object. His own particular institute encourages devotion .to the poor and he has seen his superior, a conscientious religious, act in the same generous fashion. His presumption is reason-able; he has "conformed" his action to the .reasonably in-terpreted mind of the superior. I.s. a religious who has legitimately presumed a permis-sion, say in a matter governed by his vow of poverty, later obliged to notify the superior of his act?. The rule may call for such a manifestation in every case of a presumed permission. Supposing such a prescription does not exist, one would not be obliged to notify the superior of articles now consumed which'had been received b~r way of a legiti-mately presumed permission. Objects Of a more enduring nature, received in virtue of a presumed permission, should be made knov~n to the superior. A kind friend, for exam-ple, meets a' religious and invites him to take dinner with him. The religious accepts his friend's gracious invitation. Before parting, the same kind friend presents the religious with a very excellent volume. To what is the religious obliged in the case? We suppose, first of all, that his pre-sumptions in both cases are justified. If the rule of this religious obliges him to manifest all presumed permissions to the superior, his duty is clear. Without such a provision made by his rule, he would not be obliged to acquaint his superior with the fact that he had prudently presumed to take dinner with his friend. If he wishes to keep the vol-ume which he had lawfully presumed to accept, he would be obliged to approach the superior for permission. For while it was inconvenient to make contact with the supe-rior at the moment when he received the book, there should be no special inconvenience involved in asking for permis- 202 THE PRESUMED PERMISSION' sion on his beturn home. In other words, he can lawfully ¯ presume only as long as conditions justify it. Attitudes of Superior Having examined the conditions that warrant a pre-s. umed permission, let us now look briefly at the different attitudes with which a superior may view such presump-tions on the part ~of the subject. We may reduce them to three classes. 1) The first type of superior may be so disposed that he is ready enough, if asked, to grant the ordinary permis-sions, and does not object to the reasonable presuming of the same permissions. It is possible that he has. expressed himself on this point.To ex.emplify: a religious of the community of this superior knows that permission to sub-scribe to useful periodicals is readily granted. He knows too from his close acquaintance with the superior that there is no objection to presumed permissions in ordinary mat-ters. Such a religious, provided there be no insincerity on 'the point, .may presume to subscribe under the ordinary conditions. For he knows, in the language of the theo-logians, that his superior is opposed neither to. the sub-stance of the act (the~ subscription) nor to the mode or manner (by way of a presumed permission). 2) Another superior, perhaps .with a view of check-ing abuse in the matter of poverty, may be decidedly op-posed to his subjects' presuming permissions. So strong may be his attitude that, outside of cases of real emergency, he is prepared to veto the presumed permissions of his sub-jects. A presumed permission then, outside of extraordi-nary circumstances, would be tantamount to a violation of poverty or obedience as the case might be. To resume the example of subscription for periodicals. The superior in question is not opposed to the subscriptions to useful :peri- 203 JAMES E. RISK odicals. So strongly, however, is he opposed to presumed permissions, that he refuses to allow a subject to subscribe without first obtaining express permission. In this case he would object to the substance of the act (the act of subscribing') not because he failed to appreciate the cul-tural value of useful periodicals, but because he would be opposed to the toad/ir~ which such a subscription were made (i.e. by way of the presumed permission). 3) S~ill a third attitude might be evidenced towards the matter of presuming. Admitting the use of presumed permissions as sometimes justifiable, a superior may reveal his general attitude towards presumed permissions as one of reluctance and displeasure. Such a disposition, however, would not necessarily in'dicate his refusal to ratify a pre-sumption once made. The subject of this superior sub-scribes to a periodical and on the arrival of the first issue is reminded that the superior would gladly have granted the permission if asked. Has this religious violated poverty? He may have sinned venially because of the toay in which he obtained the subscription, that is, by presu~ming instead of asking. The substance of the act, namely, the mere sub-scribing, would not necessarily be'sinful, because the supe-rior would have gladly permitted it. Obedience too could be violated, if the religious deliberately acted against the expliCit order of the superior. To complete our consideration of the various attitudes which mayinfluence a superior in .these matters, this ques-tion may be proposed. Suppose that after a sincere and prudent presumption is made, it is totally repudiated by the superior? If, for example, a book were purchased in such circumstances, what could be done? Strictly. speak-ing, the superior might order the return of the book and reimbursement on the part of the proprietor of the book-store, if this were feasible. That would be for the superior 204 THE ~RESUMED PERMISSION to decide. The religious, who in good' faith erroneously estimated his superior's attitude, would in no wise be guilty of a violation of poverty. For in the case he sincerely inter-preted the mind of his superior and concluded that the con-ditions justified his transaction. Conclusion In conclusion, let .us remember that the presumed or interpretative permission, as some authors call it, has a defi-nite place in the life of an observant religious, but that p!ace is reserved for occasions when the ordinary methods to obtain permission cannot be observed. The conscien-tious religious, as we have already stated, will rarely fail to obtain whatever permis.sions are ordinarily necessary by the more express method of asking the superior. A habitual use of presumption can easily lead to laxity in the observ-ance of poverty so essential to a life in religion that is to be led with any degree of sincerity. What must never be. for-gotten is that cooperation is always necessary in the observ-ance of the vow of poverty: the superior should show him-self ready to grant any request in keeping with the particu-lar grade of poverty professed in hisinstitute, since it is not unknown for subjects to violate poverty rather than ap-proach a superio/Who has shown himself less gracious in the question of permissions. Subjects have been known to deliberately violate poverty, I say, not to mention the gratuitous or unnecessary presumption which is another name for the sin of proprietorship. The religious should be habitually disposed to express that dependence on supe-riors for the use of temporal things, not out of a spirit of servitude but out of a desire to imitate Him Who was hungry and Who had nowhere to lay His head. 205 ook Reviews PRINCIPLES OF CHRISTIAN AND RELIGIOUS FERFECTION for the use of the Merlst Brothers of the Schools. Trensleted from the slx~h French edition; revised end enlercjed. Pp. 567. To be procured from the Marlst Brothers, St. Ann's Hermltege, Poughkeepsie, N.Y. $1.~0. Though this book was written for the Marist Brothers, it could be of great service to other religious as well. In fact, it would make an excellent manual of introduction or a good brief guidebook to the spiritual iife in general and particularly to the religious life. It might be used as a sort of text-book for young religious; it was designed to serve that purpose for the Marist novices. It ~s small, but rich in content; its form is that of. question a~ad answer; in presentation of its material, it is systematic, clear, and definite. From it one could get a well ordered and fairly comprehensive knowledge of the practice of the spiritual and religious life. The Introduction supplies general notions on the end of man, holiness, the religious state, and religious institutes. Part I is entitled "General Means of Christian Perfection," and deals with the desire for perfection, prayei, mental prayer, exercises of piety, conscience, Confession, Communion, direction, spiritual reading, the exercise of the presence of God, and various devotions. In Part II, "General Means of Perfection in the Religious Life," are treated religious vocal tion, the noviceship and religious profession, the vows, and the corre-sponding virtues. It closes with a chapter on "Regularity." Part III is concerned with the obstacles to Christian and religious perfection, and the fourth part is devoted to the virtues. To many of the answers "to the questions are added brief further explanations in smaller type. On many points of major importance select quota-tions from the Fathers and Doctors of the Church are givefi; in these the' influence of St. Francis de Sales and St. Alphonsus Liguori is noticeable. The m~iterial make-up, paper, print, and binding, are neat and attractive. A full table of contents, an analytical tab!e, and a good index make it easy to find what the book contains on any particular point.--G. A. ELLARD, S.,J. BLESSED ARETHEY THAT HUNGER. By the Reverend Richard Graef, C;.S.Sp. Trensleted by Sister Mary Hildegerd Windecker, M. A., Sister of the Blessed Sacrament for Indians end Colored People. 206 BOOK REVIEWS Pp. ~vli + 175. Frederick Pustet, Inc., New York, 1942. $2.00. Father Graef attempts in various ways to encourage the good Catholic in the practic.e of a strong and living faith. His main lines of argumentation are the following: A dynamic faith is necessary for personal sanctity; because sanctity demands self-renunciation, and this renunciation will not be made unless one sees clearly and power-fully the value of making it. Such evaluation is had only in the light of faith. Moreover, supernatural efficiency demands the work both of Christ and of the soul. The principal part of the soul's cooperation consists in genuine, earnest desire; and the source of such desire is faith. Finally, the apostolic influence that each soul is called upon to exert in the world, and thus the ultimate mastery of the world by apostolic souls, can be appreciated only when the world is viewed with the eyes of faith. The" author has made frequent and apt use of the Sacred Scrip-tures. Each of the main sections of the book is divided into numer-ous brief topics. The meditative reading of one or two of these topics might prove, helpful to those wlJo are accustomed to make their men-tal prayer in that way.--G. KELLY, S.,I. THE MASS OF BROTHER MICHEL. By Michael Ken÷. Pp. 307. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee, 1942. $2.S0. Here is a new Catholic novel with an entirely different theme. The setting of the story is sixteenth-century France, a turbulent his-torical period for that country, owing to the threatening Surge of heresy. The spreading falsehoods of Calvin and Luther provide' a dramatic background for the lives of the de Guillemont family, about which the story is told. The interest centers in Michel de Guillemont, the elder son and heir. It is his story from his sincere, impetuous love of Louise to his final unyielding love of God and his Faith in the self-oblation of martyrdom. We share in the tragedy before his contemplated mar-riage that was partly due to the jealousy of his brother Paul and that led to his becoming a saintly religious. We are carried along from the injustice and cruelty of his father to ~he providential meeting with the und.erstanding Father Andr4. We sympathize with him in his deep suffering when the priesthood is denied him. Brother Michel's courageous acceptance of God's will and his intense love of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass keep the interest keen up to the power- 207 BOOK REVIEWS ful climax of his death. The subordinate characters of the least-resisting Paul, the unscru-pulous Anne; the bitter Louise, the heretic Armand, the lovable Father Andre, and others are well portrayed. The story is told with excel-lent description and good use of suspense. The tragic atmosphere is relieved by romance and clever humor. The one striking weakness is the characteristic trait of the modern novel: it leaves untold the retribution due to some charaCters. The Mass of Brother Michel shows the triumph of grace over .personal pain and loss, sin, and human frailty. The passages that deal with the spiritual consolation of the Mass, the reason for pain and suffering in this life, God's love for the sinner, and the courage coming to the soul through prayer are worth reading again and again. Priests, in particular, will find here many inspiring thoughts for practical use and may grow in their appreciation of the privilege of offering the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass.---A. J. DEEMAN, S.J. FAST BY THE ROAD. By John Moody. Pp. xiv + 308. The MacM~llan C~rnpany, New Yorl~, 1941. $2.50. The Wall Street expert on investments and kindred subjects who occasioned not a little surprise a decade ago by embracing the Catholic Faith and reporting the event in the popular The Long Road Home has a new treat for his expanding reading public. The present vol-ume, to quote from the author's foreword, is "an attempt to explain in simple language or by illustration, certain teachings and view. points to be found within the Church which are often misunder-stood by non-Catholics. All this is merely incidental to the general purpose, which is primarily to tell of some of the experiences of one convert .during his first decade as a Catholic." Mr. Moody writes simply, entertainingly, and with precision on a wide variety of subjects connected with his Faith. In his chapters the hard-headed, efficient business man, with the help of God's grace, approaches the Truth. He turns back his cuffs and proceeds to defend it and, campaign for it with gusto. The chapters are topical for the most part, ranging with consider-able agility back and forth over some focal point of Catholicity by means of observation, analysis, chance discussion, and illustrative anecdote. Their cumulative effect is to deepen one's gratitu.de for the gift of Faith and to jolt one anew with the realization that most of 208 BOOK REVIEWS one's non-Catholic friends and neighbors are totally ignorant of or gr6ssly misunderstand the Catholic concept of supernatural life, and are usually indifferent to it. And Mr. Moody, so thoroughly at home in the Church after his ten years as a Catholic, writes with more than ordinary authority and perception of .the money-mad, speed-benumbed, materialistic American mentality. The book is recommended especially to those in search of reading matter never heavy or tiring yet providing food for serious thought --and prayer. The chapters m~y be read in any order, and any or all of them would be suitable for refectory reading.--C. DEMUTH, THE CATHOLIC REVIVAL IN ENGLAND. Pp. ix -I- 102. The MacMillan Company, MEDIEVAL HUMANISM. By the Reverend Pp. ix -!- 103. The MacMillan Company, By John J. O'Connor. New York, 1942. $1.00. Gerald G. Walsh, S.J. New York, 1942. $1.00. These books are respectively the third and fourth volumes in The Christendom Series. According to the announcement of the publishers, "this is a series of popular books on important topics in the history of Christendom, prepared under the auspices of the Con-fraternity of Christian Doctrine . The books are intended to provide informative reading for both Catholic and non-Catholic readers; for study clubs in the parochial units of~the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine: for study groups in the Newman Clubs: as collateral texts in colleges, normal schools, and senior high ~and preparatory schools.'~ Both books appear to measure up very well to the purpose of the series. Professor O'Connor's book gives a fine sweeping picture of that very important period in English life known as "The Catholic Revival," the story of the gradual breaking away from the tyranny of th~ penal laws to the winning of freedom and influence for Cath-olics. Father Walsh's book puts within the reach of the ordinarily intelligent reader with good educational background an illuminating study of the meaning of "Humanism" and of the development of Christian Humanism through the middle ages till it reached its high point in Dante. Bibliographical notes are appended to each book. Father Walsh has also included an abstract for study and review which should prove very helpful.~. KELLY, S.d. 209 Decisions o[ !:he Holy MEANS OF COMMUNICATING WITH THE HOLY SEE A communication from the Most Reverend Apostolic Delegate to the Most Reverend Ordinaries reads as follows:. "In order to remedy, the difficulties of correspondence with the Holy See, His Eminence the Cardinal Secretary of State has'directed me to inform the Diocesan and Religious Ordinaries and Superiors of this country'that in the present circumstances they may recur to the Holy See through this Apostolic Delegation, and so avail themselves of the facilities at our disposal. This office makes frequent use of radiograms, and also of the air-mails to Lisbon wblch, however, are not as regular as formerly. "Upon the receipt of the petitions of Religious for faculties and dispens,ations, this Delegation will communicate with the .Holy See by radiogram or by other channdls, according to the possibilities and the circumstances. When a response has been received from the Holy See, the relative rescript will be issued by this Delegation, in accord-ance with instructions already given or to be given in particular cases. "When requests are made for the renewal of a faculty, the orig-inal rescript should be presented with the petition for renewal. "The Holy. See hopes in this way to continue to correspond with the Religious !n this country and to furnish every assistance to them." 1942, March 21. At the request of many members of the Hier-archy, heads Of universities, and authorities in the world of science, among them members of the Pontifical Academy of Sciences, His Holiness Pope Pius XII proclaimed Saint Albert the Great to be the heavenly patron of natural sciences. The Most Reverend Martin Gillet, Master General of the Order of Preachers, read the Brief at a solemn meeting held in the Pontifical International Institute Ahgeli- CUmo 1941, November 18. The Sacred Congregation of Rites held a preparatory session in the cause of the Servant of God, Catherine Tekakwitha, Indian virgin, to discuss the heroicity of the virtues practised by her. 210 .uesffons and Answers !1. According +o our constitutions. +he members of our congregation pronoun~:e temporary vows for three years, +hen take. perpetual vows unless, for a very serious reason, a sister is obl;gecl by superior~ to renew her temporary vows for another period of three years. At the end of +ha+ time she must either pronounce perpetual vows or seek~ an inchlt from the S. Congregation of Religious for a fur+her ex+en-sion of temporary vows if she is not 1o return to the world. Recently this latter c~se occurred, but the rescript was delayed, "and the sister d~d not renew her temporary vows until twelve days after they had' expired. In this case, did +he sister cease +o be a member of +he congregation on the day on which her vows expired, and were her subsequent vows invalid? The sister would not cease to be a member of the congregation. by the mere fact that an interval of time elapsed between the expira-tion of the temporary vows and their renewal, unless the superior had positively ordered her to leave and to return to the world. As the case is presented, it is not clear whether or not the constitutions allow this appeal to the S. Congregation of Religious.

Issue 65.2 of the Review for Religious, 2006. ; Franciscan Legacy Vocation Religious Implications The Spirit QUARTERLY 65.2 2006 evtew Religtous sters.dia e,.wztl~,, Go dialogue~ with ourselves; anddialogue accordingto cba~s:~of CatboUc reli~o~'l~(~ As Pope Paul I satd~ our way of bet!g church Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University, by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ \~el) site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2006 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must hear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for comlnercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only he considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. 0 religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff. Webmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Phili'o C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mar~ Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Ciare Boehmer ASC Stephen Erspamer OSB Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 65.2 2006 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 138 franciscan legacy Custodians of Franciscan Households Michael Blastic OFM enters us into the meaning of Franciscan fraternity through developing three elements: 1) a life lived in brotherhood, 2) experienced in a household, and 3) qualified with patience~ Questions for Reflection / Group Discussion Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist Regis J. Armstrong OFMCap centers his reflections on the .spirituality of Francis of Assisi by focusing on five passages of Francis's writings that d, eal with Eucharist. vocation 153 159 Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation Julius D. Leloczky OCist invites those following the special call to religious life into a prayerful meditation on the role of Mary as model and mentor. Prayer Just Because I Said So Mary Joseph Schultz SCC considers the importance of commitment and what it means "to give one's word." Personal Reflection / Group Conversation l~eview for Retigious 166 177 r O ji us imp ic io s Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? Vimal Tirimanna CSSR reflects on his experience as major superior and as president of the Conference of Major Religious Superiors of Sri Lanka to share his concern for the proper use of afithority. Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious Brendan Kneale FSC clarifies identity for men and women as embracing two dimensions, personal and social, which are mutually supportive. 186 spiri Led by the Spirit: Julian of Norwich Andrew Ryder SCJ notes the central role of the Spirit in the writings of Julian of Norwich. The Holy Spirit is the dynamic, active agent who brings us into communion with the life of Christ and the Persons of the Holy Trinity. epar rn n s 202 Scripture Scope: The Miracles of Jesus 206 Cdnonical Counsel: The Importance of Procedural Law 211 Book Reviews 65.2 2006 prisms do we think of when we hear the word service? We quickly rush to the n0tion of activity--what we do, how we act, how we spend our days and perhaps even our nights. But in our Catholic tradition service and to serve God have a far richer meaning than just activity. We find the first and foundational stage of service in a traditional saying, "They also serve who only stand and wait." By way of contemporary example, we notice that the esteemed waiter at table is the one who watches and is attentive to what is needed by the people dining. Such a waiter spends a lot :of his or' her time just "watching and waiting." In a similar way, the Christian who wants to serve God should spend a lot of time "watching and waiting." A good part of the watching and waiting is identifiable as praying. It is the prayer of one who listens to God--a God who is speaking in his revealing word, a God who speaks through his human messengers, a God who speaks through nature and through events. A person who listens is one who is obedient, for the roots of the word obedience lie in listening. The young Samuel in scripture describes his listening in the phrase, "Here I am, Lord." In the sacramental oi'dination of ministers, such listening is caught by the expression "ready and willing." It is the attitude of Jesus before the God he calls Abba. The second stage of service is made evident in the stance of surrender. It is the giving over of ourselves to. another in love. As Catholics we are being invited to enter Christ's eternal stance of surrender that is celebrated in every Eucharist. Jesus sacramentalized his total gift of self to God and to us in the giving of his body and his blood at the Last Supper. Historically, that gift was made especially in his passion and death. But the risen Jesus continues to invite us to enter into his eternal stance of surrender in every Eucharist we celebrate. For us, our surrender is measured by all the discrete moments of our life. We might say that, nourished by Jesus' body and blood, we are living "into" our surrender. Finally we come to thai stage of service whose mean-ing we think we have exhausted when we describe activ-ities. It is true that there are many ways of serving as a Christian, and these services are an essential element of living our faith. A faith that is not lived out in action is no faith at all. It is noteworthy that Protestants have often described their Sunday worship as services. Although we Catholics have ordinarily not used this designation, the Mass truly can be identified as a se~'vice, and it contains all the stages of service that we have described. The Liturgy of the Word certainly demands all of tls to be obedient, to be listeners, to be people ready and willing to be formed and directed by God's word. In the Liturgy of the Sacrament we are invited to enter into Jesus' eternal stance of surrender, and we come forward at communion time to ratify that gift and so experience our increasing identity with Christ by letting him be our daily bread. And every Eucharist sends us forth with the mission to share our faith and ~o serve God and his people. At the Last Supper Jesus asked all of us to claim our identity with him by following his example--he signified this by a particular activity as he washed the apostles' feet. Whatever our activities, following the risen Christ, we are identified as "ones who serve." . David L. Fleming SJ ,117 65.2 2006 franciscan MICHAEL BLASTIC Custodians of Franciscan Households legacy In a Newsweek web article posted on MSNBC, Melinda Henneberger wrote that "Katrina has reminded us that Christian morality should be about responding to the wretched and loving the unlovable--not about other people's sex lives" (14 September 2005). While the United States describes itself as a Christian nation, in the aftermath of Katrina we have seen that this label is deceptive. Citing Bill McKibben, "The Christian Paradox" (Harper's, August 2005), who pointed this out, she wrote that American practice really rewards dependency, and so it is better to hold on to your cash. McKibben himself reported on a poll concerning religious practice in the United States. He noted that only four in ten Americans can list more than four of the Ten Commandments, and only five in ten can name the four Gospels. He said that these Michael Blastic OFM presented this paper on Franciscan brotherhood at a province meeting in November 2005. His address is The Franciscan Institute; St. Bonaventure University; St. Bonaventure, New York 14778. Revie~ for Religious statistics really do not matter, but what does matter is that three out of four think the Bible teaches that "God helps those who help themselves" (actually a proverb of Ben Franklin's). Approximately 85 percent of Americans identify themselves as Christian, with about 75 percent claiming they pray to God daily and 33 percent going to church weekly. McKibben points out a number of paradoxes. We are second to last among developed countries in government foreign aid; nearly 18 percent of American children live in poverty--here we come in last among the rich nations-- and 26 percent of households lack sufficient food. We are the most violent rich nation on earth, with a murder rate of four or five times that of Europe. We have prison populations five or six times Europe's rate. We are the only Western democracy that executes its citizens; our marriage breakup rate is more than half, and higher than Europe's. tf one measures Christian identity by Jesus' teaching of helping the less fortunate, we come off poorly indeed. ~ Given these statistics, McKibben argues that Americans have replaced the Christianity of the Bible with another creed which ignores Jesus' radical and demanding focus on the other--"Love your neighbor as yourself." Jesus made it clear who the neighbor is--the poor person, the sick person, the naked person, the hungry person. "On and on and on--a call for nothing less than a radical, voluntary, and effective reordering of power relationships, based on the principle of love," to quote McKibben. I know I am not reporting something you do not already know. But I believe that this social context of North America as described by McKibben, visible in the unjust social reality revealed in Katrina's aftermath, is important for reflecting on our Franciscan life. In fact, 1119, 6~. 2 200~ Blastic ¯ Custodians of Frandscan Households such a social context was the occasion for Francis of Assisi's conversion. Here I want to be very clear. Francis of Assisi's conversion was not explicitly, and primarily religious. It was a movement from a social order base& on the creed "God helps them who help themselves" to a social order based on sharing and sacrifice and "Love your neighbor as yourself"--in other words the creed of Jesus. In his conversion Francis first and foremost experienced what it means to be human, and what it implies for social life. The Franciscan movement results from Francis and the brothers learning what is required for human beings to flourish as God intends. From the opposite perspective, it is the medium of fraternity that is the message. A Franciscan fraternity evangelizes to the extent that it embodies human flourishing on the personal, social, and ecclesial levels. First I will describe briefly the early Franciscan experience and vision of fraternal life, and then I will suggest how this may help all of us live our lives as brothers. :120 A Place for Human Flourishing I would describe Franciscan fraternity in this way. I~ is (1) a life lived in brotherhood, (2) experienced in a household, and (3) qualified with patience. I deduce these elements from the Rule of 1223, the Rule that we profess as our form of life. (1) It was the Italian scholar Raoul Manselli who identified Francis's encounter with lepers as the turning point in his conversion. As Francis records in his Testament, that encounter radically rearranged his values and led him to leave the commune of Assisi in order to live with those lepers. He was drawn out of himself so that he could see, perhaps for the first time in his life; the reality of human beings who according to the definitions Review for Religious of life in the commune of Assisi simply did not exist. There was no place in Assisi for the unclean, the unworthy, the unholy, the unbearable, the unlucky, the untouchable, and the unloved. Encountering these suffering human beings, the lepers, Francis showed them a merciful heart. He looked at ., , them and touched them, he stayed with them and shared life with them, he comforted them and served their needs. And Francis tells us he did not do this for himself. He did not go to the~lepers to make himself better. He did not use . them as objects in an ascetical exercise to overcome himself (though this is how hagiographers will understand it). Francis gives the credit for this experiential truth to God: "The Lord led me among them, and I showed them a merciful heart" (Test 2).1 With God's nudge, Francis recognized the lepers as brothers and sisters, as creatures of the same God, as having equal dignity in the eyes of God the Creator. While Assisi's values and practice denied this truth, Francis was led into it by God's grace (what was bitter became sweet), and 'he left Assisi to live among these newly discovered brothers and sisters. Leaving the world of Assisi, Francis ~hus stepped into God's world--creation--where everything was estab-lished by the Creator in relationship. This is the truth that he would later celebrate in the Canticle of the Creatures. Creation sings, creation flourishes, simply by being what it was created to be, by being in relationship with all that exists. In his Testament Francis says, "The Lord gave me some brothers" (Test 14). Experienced as the reality of relationship as established by the Creator, brotherhood is Francis did not go to the lepers to make himself better. 121 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households embodied in the rule in terms of obedience. According to chapter 2 of the Earlier Rule, after those who come have given everything to the poor as they were able, and after the year of probation has ended for them, "they may be received into obedience" (LR II:l 1). Once received into obedience they may not wander "outside obedience" (ER II: 10). The rule speaks of obedience as a place, the space into which the brothers are received. While monks are received into a monastery after their novitiate probation, Francis's brothers are received into obedience. Obedience becomes a synonym for the space in which the brothers live. What characterizes obedience then is that it is the space of relationship, One could substitute the term relationship for the term obedience throughout the early Franciscan writings and not change the meaning of the texts. The relationships of brotherhood define the space in which the brothers live. This is especially significant given that the rule understands the brothers to be itinerant, even though by 1223 this was beginning to change somewhat. Brothers began living in convents in cities. Brotherhood, then, or better our relationships as brothers, is what defines the space in which to live our life according to the Rule. And, as Francis makes clear, brotherhood is only possible if one. turns toward the other, only if one gets out of oneself and willingly places oneself in relationship to the other. This turning toward others is the basis for contemplation in the tradition; it does not imply separation or solitude, but rather engagement and an ecstatic way of being in the world. A second defining element of Franciscan fraternity is Franciscan mission. After lepers, probably the most recognized symbol of Franciscan life is San Damiano and the speaking crucifix. While this story~appears rather late in the hagiographical tradition (1246), it expresses a fundamental purpose of Franciscan life. Francis received a Review for Religious mission to repair God's house, which was being destroyed: "Francis, don't you see that my house is being destroyed? Go, then, and rebuild it for me" (L3C 13). While in the past we translated those words from the Legend of the Three Companions too simplistically as "Rebuild my church," the hagiographical tradition consistently uses the term house in accounts of this event. And, while Francis initially understood that invitation from the cross to mean the broken-down building of San Damiano, he would come to understand that the mission was rather one of repairing a space in which Frariciscan ' holiness was experienced domestically, the. lives of men and women who have been~.broken and destroyed as human beings can be rebuilt and flourish. House and family are central to the brothers' experience of the Christian life. Their relationship to God is expressed in terms of the household. For instance, in the Second Version of the Letter to the Faithful, we read: And the Spirit of the Lord will rest upon all those men and women who have done and persevered in these things, and it will make a home and dwelling place in them. And they will be the children of the heavenly Father, whose works they do. And they are spouses, brothers, and mothers of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are spouses when the faithful soul is united by the Holy Spirit to our Lord Jesus Christ. We are brothers, moreover, when we do the will of his Father who is in heaven; mothers when we carry him in our heart and body through love and a pure and sincere conscience; and give him birth through a holy activity, which must shine before others by example. (2LtF 48-53) Here we can see that for the early Franciscans holiness was experienced domestically. This suggests two things: 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households 124 (1) we are family with the Trinitarian God we believe in, and (2) our relationship with this God is accessible and lived in the ordinary, everyday experience of domestic life. This is an important characteristic of Franciscan .practice, and suggests family life and not church life as the means for working out our way to God. How does Francis envision rebuilding God's house? Bonaventure's insight in his Major Legend of St. Francis is right on the mark here. He comments that, after receiving this mission in San Damiano, he eventually moved to St. MaiT~ of the Angels; he "lived there in order to repair it" (LMj II:8). The repair of God's house is not so much the action of preaching or teaching. The repair is accomplished by life in brotherhood itself, by living among and with brothers and sisters. The term conversatio is used to describe this "living among" in two places in the Early Rule. Francis encourages the brothers to rejoice when they "live among (quando conversantur inter viles . . .) people considered of little value and looked down upon" (ER IX:2); and "they can live spiritually (possunt duobus modis spiritualiter inter eos conversant) among the Saracens" (ER XVI:5). Using the Latin word conversatio, the root of the term conversation, the Rule envisages life as a conversation, and depends on the monastic sense of conversatio as manner of life. The brothers' manner of life is thus to be conversational--sharing life with brothers and ~isters in this conversational manner rebuilds the house of God. In another text of the Later Rule, this conversation is described more concretely: I counsel, admonish, and exhort my brothers in the Lord Jesus Christ not to quarrel or argue or judge others when they go about in the world; but let them be meek, peaceful, modest, gentle, and humble, speaking courteously to everyone, as is becoming . Review for Religious Into whatever house they enter, let them first say: "Peace to this house!" According to the holy gospel let them eat whatever food is set before them. (LR III:10- 12, 14) Here we see how for the brothers the mann(r of being with others is the primary means for accomplishing the mission, and is itself the message. The gospel is about life, a way of life, a way of being with and relating to others with the peace that is God's gift freely given in Jesus. The brothers simply speak the gospel honestly with everyone, beginning with one another. But, before the brothers can speak the word of the gospel, they must live the word of the gospel. Here recall the emphasis Celano gives to this fact in his Life of St. Francis, "[Francis] was no deaf hearer of the gospel" (1C 22). Coherence of life and message is the norm. The brothers' honest conversation and engagement with the world and people invites recognition of the presence of the kingdom already in their midst. Conversation, though, is a skill that must be learned, and many of the prescriptions of the rule that describe behavior in a negative way can be read as impediments to the quality of conversa'tion that the brothers engage in as part of their mission. This understanding of household and conversation can be seen in chapter 6 of the Later Rule. There poverty is described as "not making anything one's own" and living as "pilgrims and strangers in this world" and "never seeking anything else under heaven." After describing the brothers' poverty this way as modeled on Jesus Christ, "who made himself poor for us in this world" (LR VI:3), the Rule spells out the implication of this poverty for the life of brotherhood: Wherever the brothers may be and meet one another, let them show that they are members of.the same family. Let each one confidently m~ke known his need 125 65.2 2006 Blasac ¯ Custodians of Frandscan Households to the other, for if a mother loves and cares for her son according to the flesh, how much more diligently must someone love and care for his brother according to the Spirit! (LR VI:7-8) Literally the Rule suggests here that the brothers should demonstrate that they come from the same "household," the same family (ostendunt se domesticos invicem inter se). Thus, having nothing, living itinerantly, and desiring only this, the brothers can be at home in their relationships. The brothers should feel at home in the love and. care they have and express for one another. Poverty is the condition for brotherhood. This is an important consideration because poverty can dehumanize. Rebuilding God's house implies offering an alternative to the dehumanizing effects, of poverty. Today we can include everything from forms of work, to abuse, to social structures. The life of brotherhood should provide for humanizing relationships, expressed in turning toward others in their real needs, and their responding with real and mature care. This house is built by God's Spirit as a place where human beings can flourish. Our fraternal life is meant to help human beings prosper, grow, and thrive as "human persons fully alive" and thus to fulfill our mission to repair God's house. A third dimension of fraternal life has to do with what it means to be human. For me, this knowledge comes with the.stigmata of Francis. The stigmata involves unanswered questions. Thomas of Celano in his Life of St. Francis supplied the time, place, and context for the event of the stigmata, but while doing that he was much more interested in unraveling its meaning. Celano recounts that, while at La Verna two years before his death, Francis "saw in the vision of God a man having six wings like a seraph, standing above him, arms extended and feet joined, fixed to a cross" (2C 94). Celano's words suggest that Francis's vision was of a human person taken up into God, burning with desire (like a seraph), and crucified. They suggest the divinization of the human person. Celano is not describing history here. He is interpreting an event whose full meaning was beyond history. He understands the stigmata as demonstrating the fullest potential of being human embraced by God in the incarnation. In Jesus, God embraced the human condition with all of its limitation, fragility, weakness, and vulnerability and, in this embrace of the human condition, revealed God's own divine nature. I.n other words, the crucified flesh of Christ revealed the nature of God. The event of the stigmata reveals both the meaning of God and the meaning of Jesus Christ's human nature. The humanity embraced by Jesus is the same as Francis lived, to the point of knowing it in his own wounds. Marked with the wounds of Jesus, Francis becomes the leper, an icon of the crucified Jesus. Celano says: "While he was unable to perceive anything clearly understandable from the vision, its newness very much pressed upon his heart. Signs of the nails began to appear on his hands and feet, just as he had seen them a little while earlier on the crucified man hovering above him" (2C 94). Francis becomes what he sees, that is, what he has been seeing from the moment God turned him to the lepers to contemplate humanity there as a living icon of Jesus Christ, crucified and fixed to a cross. What does it mean to be human, then, for the early Franciscans? It means to embrace th~ full reality of the human condition as frail, weak, fragile, and vulnerable, and even scarred and wounded. The human person is an image of the Lamb who was slain, who carries even now in glory the scars of the passion. Being scarred and wounded like Jesus is not about imitating Jesus' suffering and pain on the cross. Rather, it is the consequence of t)27 6~.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households self-sacrificing love, of being totally for others, without holding anything back: To be truly human means to bear patiently the human condition of weakness, fragility, and vulnerability. In the stigmata Francis demonstrates that it is possible for a human being to be Godlike, to love as God loved, to be totally and completely for the other, and in addition he demonstrates that human persons are capable of compassion, human persons are capable of bearing the pain of.the other. This, it seems to me, is what the Rule describes as the action of the Spirit of the Lord in one's life: I admonish and exhort the brothers in themLord Jesus Christ to beware of all pride, vainglory, envy and greed, of care and solicitude for the things of this world, of detraction and murmuring. Let those who are illiterate not be anxious to learn, but let them pay attention to what they must desire above all else: to have the Spirit of the Lord and its holy activity, to pray always to him with a pure heart, to have humility and patience in persecution and infirmity, and to love those who persecute, rebuke, and find fault with us. (LRX:7- 0) The eight vices that are listed at the beginning of this text are social vices; they have to do with how one relates to others and to the things of this-world. These vices describe one who is living "from the outside in," that is, one whose meaning and behavior are determined by things, by social position, by prestige, power, and clout, all of which lie outside a person. The Rule admonishes the brothers to a life of poverty, having nothing of one's own and desiring nothing more than the action of God's Spirit. They are not to live from the outside in, but from the inside out, by expressing the Spirit of the Lord in outward behavior. The Spirit transforms us flesh and blood into an image of Jesus, the suffering servant of God. Review for Religious Another way of expressing the action of the Spirit here is in our bearing with everyone and everything in patience and humility. The Saying on True and Pe,fect ffoy, recorded as a conversation between Francis and Leo, says that, as they arrive back at the Portiuncola one night, they are refused entrance because of the time of day and because they are stupid and not needed. They are told to go to the Crosiers for lodging. Francis says that, "if I had patience and did not become upset, true joy as well as true virtue and the salvation of my soul would consist in. this" (TPJ 15). The experience of the 'presence of God so transforms human existence that even persecution and sickness become ways to follow Christ. The experience of the Spirit of the Lord thus expresses itself in patience. The Latin term patiens indicates a willingness to endure or undergo something, to be capable of bearing hardship; it implies that one is vulnerable, able to be wounded. For Francis, patience is an attribute of God. In the--Praises of God, written shortly /. after he experienced-ffie sugrnata on Mount La Verna, he says to God: "You are love, charity; you are wisdom, you are humility, you are patience, you are beauty, you are meekness, you are security, you are rest" (PrG 4). Francis sees Jesus as the face of God, who made himself vulnerable in this world, who exercised patience through life and death. But it is the incarnation even more than the passion and death that Francis looks to, because in the incarnation Jesus put himself into the position of weakness, frailty, vulnerability, and limitation Francis sees Jesus as.the fa~e of God, who made himself vulnerable in this world, who exercised patience through life and death. 6~.2 2006 Blastic * Custodians of Franciscan HouseboMs and. in this revealed the full potential of being human, showing that the acceptance.of human vulnerability is salvific. Here the Rule gets to the heart of Franciscan fraternity because it challenges the brothers to be simply human, to live from the inside out, to be patient in suffering and sickness, to be vulnerable and open to the other, in short, to follow the footsteps of Jesus Christ. Authentic human life can flourish in Franciscan households that are built by brothers who turn toward each other, who engage in honest conversation as a way of life, and who patiently embrace their humanness in weakness, fragility, and vulnerability. Guarding the Franciscan Household The term "guardian" does not appear in the text of the Rule of 1223. It will appear inAater writings such as the Letter to the Entire Order and the Testament. No job description can be found in the early Franciscan writings, but it is understood that as guardian a brother exercises a ministry among brothers on the local level. What the Rule says about the ministry of "those brothers who are the ministers and servants of the others." (LR X:I) certainly applies to guardians. They are to "receive [the brothers] charitably and kindly and have sufficient familiarity with them that these same brothers may speak and deal with them as masters with the servants, for so it must be that the ministers are servants of all the brothers" (LR X:5-6). The ministers must deal with the brothers as family. While this quality of service must characterize the ministers, those who are subjects must also live the sacrificial nature of obedience in their relationships with the ministers and others. This sacrificial quality of obedience. Francis learned from Jesus, especially in his agony in the garden as described in the Second Version of the Letter to the Faithf!~k Rt.view for Religious Then he prayed to his father saying, Father, if it can be done, let this cup pass from me. And his sweat became as drops of blood falling on the ground. Nevertheless, he placed his will in the will of his father saying: Father, let your will be done; not as I will, but as you will. His father's will was such that his blessed and glorious son, whom he gave to us and who was born for us, should offer himself through his own blood as a sacrifice and oblation on the altar of the cross: not for himself, through whom all things were made, but for our sins, leaving us an example that we might follow his footprints. (2LtF 8-13) Jesus' obedience to his father was a struggle to say yes to his father's will, and this is really the only thing Francis says about the passion. Francis never speaks of the pain or suffering of the crucified Jesus, as if the entire passion took place in Jesus' struggle to accept his Father's will. And the Father's will, as Francis describes here, is that Jesus be completely for, others, that Jesus be for us. The passion is about struggling to be for others, and thi~ brings us back to the very nature of what it means to be brother. The brother is one who turns toward others, who is totally for others without holding anything back for himself. This js true obedience, because it is the fulfillment of what it means to be in relationship with others. Given this general sense of service, caring for the Franciscan household might be practiced in the following ways, I. I began with the common American Christian belief and practice that "God helps those who help themselves," a creed that can affect us in various ways. This creed is not authentically Christian, and it is eminently un- Franciscan. It supports behavior and practice that become destructive of God's house. All the brothers are responsible for calling each other to lives of genuine other-centeredness, to lives of authentic obedience 131 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Franciscan Households experienced as fraternal relationship, and to the poverty of having nothing as one's own. Interdepehdence rather than radical independence, mutuality rather than self-centeredness, arid healthy need rather than the fullness of isolation are true qualities of fraternal life. This kind of fraternity is not a given, nor achieved easily or quickly, but remains the goal toward which we live. The guardian's task of caring for fraternal life implies attention to the absence or presence of creeds that conflict with real fraternal life. II. One hard-to-retrieve aspect of fraternal life today, given our institutional structures, is itinerancy. Francis and his brothers lived as pilgrims and strangers in this An important itinerancy !sAhab., while moving abbut; W~ are .s.t.ill at home with each o her: ° world. They were itinerant brothers, literally. They were "houses" on the road--perhaps medieval versions of mobile homes! Itinerancy was a clear aspect of Franciscan identity in contrast to monks--monastic institutions were terrified of wandering monks, called gyrovagues in Benedict's Rule. The. monastic ideal was stability, and part of the difficulty of fitting mendicants into the structure of the church had to do with their itinerancy. The friars were often perceived mistakenly (?) as monks gone bad. How do we recover that dimension of our life? Perhaps by recovering the meaning of itinerancy as metaphor--by not remaining fixed in one place, by taking different perspectives on the same reality, by always being on the way without ever believing that we have arrived, by not claiming the center for ourselves, and so forth. It is easy to get bogged down in our ministry or work, and to Review for Religious disconnect ourselves from the fraternity for reasons of ministry or work, though there can be valid reasons for this. An important aspect of itinerancy is that while moving about we are still at home with each other; our friaries are parts of a much larger provincial fraternity. For fraternity to be healthy and life-giving, it has to be on the move, never settled into stubborn custom or settled convenience or old fears of anything new o'r different. The fraternity must be on the move in a metaphorical sense in order to stay healthy and focused on its purpose. The fraternity has to be kept on its toes, and the guardians' care for households is an appropriate way of keeping the brothers on the move. III. As we have seen, Francis's mission to repair God's house had to do with the quality of human life. It had to do with a style of life or conversation that was inclusive, respectful, honest, and engaging. Conversation does have guidelines. In his book Plurality and Ambiguity, David TracT says: "In conversation we find ourselves by losing ourselves in the questions provoked by the text. We find ourselves by allowing claims upon our attention, by exploring possibilities suggested by others" (p. 19). He suggests some guidelines for honest conversation: ' Conversation is a game with some hard rules: say only what you mean; say it as accurately as you can; listen to and respect what the other says, however different or other; be willing to correct or defend your opinions if challenged by the conversation partner; be willing to argue if necessary, tQ confront if demanded, to endure necessary conflict, to change your mind if the evidence suggests it." (pp. 18-19) To paraphrase Tracy in Franciscan language, we might say that, to have an honest conversation, one must act according to the real d~mands of being brothers in relationship, one must be for the other in honesty, in 65.2 2006 Blastic ¯ Custodians of Frandscan Households integrity of life, in respectful listening. But Tracy's words, too, have already described the dynamic of a healthy fraternity. Real fraternal life is possible only if the brothers can have honest conversations. This is a real challenge because I can be so convinced of my truth that I cannot hear anyone else's truth. Conversation brings into play the truth about being human that Francis witnessed to in the stigmata--being vulnerable, being able to be touched by another, It takes much effort and practice to engage in honest conversation of this kind. Well worth the effort, the honest and earnest conversation in my fraternity will affect the quality of my presence and ministry outside the fraternity. Honest conversation iwfraternal life will also improve another central aspect of our life together, our prayer. To move beyond communal vocal prayer to faith sharing or shared prayer, honest conversation is important. If I cannot engage my brothers in honest conversation, how will I share my faith deeply with others. Perhaps there is a correlation between the friary chapters that demand honest conversation about life and ministry and the friaries that have much, or at least some, quality faith sharing. While the guardians cannot force this to happen, they can'challenge the brothers to develop friary chapters as an exercise in honest conversation. Moving from honest conversation into shared prayer is a logical and easy step. IV. Perhaps the best description of the guardians, given this description of Franciscan life, is that they are mentors. They support, challenge, inspire, and foster discernment of what is true, worthy, and life-giving among the brothers. You can find. a fine description of the mentor in Big Questions, Worthy Dreams by Sharon Daloz Parks (Jossey-Bass, 2000). She describes a mentoring Review for Religious environment as one that "can and necessarily must assist in creating norms of discourse and inclusion that invite genuine dialogue, strengthen critical thought, encourage connective-holistic awareness, and develop the contemplative mind" (p. 142). Sounds like a tall order, but we have all experienced a mentoring environment. Franciscan fraternity is similar to what she describes: "Mentoring environments are communities of imagination and practice. Humanizing practices, as we use the term here, are ways of life, things that people do with and for each other to make and keep life human" (p. 154). Parks describes three practices of a mentoring community: (1) the practice of the hearth, that is, places that invite reflection and conversation and times for doing this (hopefully the chapter provides this); (2) the practice of the table, not something that Franciscans have problems with generally, but is table time really a priority, or do we do what most Americans and families do today, simply eat on the run and alone in order to get on to something else? (3) the practice of the commons, a place where people meet and share their interdependent lives, a practice of learning how to stand with each other over time. That is a description of the recreation room, "a place within which to confirm a common, connected life. ¯ . that conveys meanings and orients purpose and commitment" (p. 157). Practices .like these facilitate fraternal life and build up the Franciscan household. For me, the religious genius of Francis and the early brothers lies in their ability to appreciate and value the human as the religious. The brothers understood the Gospels as showing us what it means to be really and simply human as brothers and sisters in contrast to social structures that are often antihuman. To be a healthy human brother or sister is to be a holy human person. Our way of being human is the message Francis was 6~.2 2006 Blastic * Custodians of Franciscan Households called to share. God's house is repaired and renewed in brotherhood and sisterhood, where human .life in its weakness, fragility, and vulnerability is embraced and celebrated and endured and supported in patience and healthy relationships, and where honest conversation is practiced and promoted. This is the vision of fraternal life that the early Franciscan writings set out. By our common profession we are all responsible for seeking this goal. The challenge is, I believe, to live that common profession, not in an ideal place, but in the "space" of th~ brotherhood that God has given us. With his brothers, the guardian has to be an expert in being human in order to be an effective servant. The guardian is charged only with calling us to be faithful to what we say we are. The guardian thus invites and challenges us to be fully human and to flourish in fraternal life. The guardian cannot do this or be responsible for this by himself. It takes all of us just as we are in the: glory of our frail, weak, limited, and vulnerable humanity. Our life is not about rapid perfection. Our life is about truth, the truth of the gospel which we embody together as brothers following the example of Francis and his brothers, who simply tried to follow the footprints of Jesus. We are called to be brothers to our brothers, to turn toward each other, to engage each other in honest conversation, to embrace our own and our brothers' weakness, limitation, frailty, and vulnerability. Desiring nothing else but this, we are heirs of the .kingdom of heaven, the place God has created that we may flourish as human beings! (see LR VO. May God give us peace! Review for Religious Note 1 All citations of the early Franciscan writings and of the Franciscan hagiographical texts in this paper are taken from Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, Vol. 1, The Saint, and Vol. 2, The Founder, edited by Regis Armstrong, J.A. Wayne Hellmann, and William Short (New York: New City Press, 1999 and 2000). Questions for Reflections / Group Discussion 1. Michael Blastic OFM was addressing guardianship in a particular Franciscan Province. What elements from his presentation do I find applicable to my own life? 2. What do I need to do to make practical in my way of living some of his reflectiOns on livihg together? 3. Have I ever been mentored by someone? If so, what are the effects of my being mentored? Have I ever considered my owr~ role of being a mentor? What would I need to do ? gently her fingers his head against her lap wherein he rested once before held now between her bloody l~ands her head bentover her task carefully removing the thorfis the skin pulling, resistant, bleeding a little even now gently her fingers so as if not to hurt him she winces as the thorns come out Sean Kinsella 65.2 2006 REGIS J. ARMSTRONG Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist I~ was Pope Paul VI who first used the word harisms" officially in the context of consecrated life.1 He did so in his apostolic exhortation of 29 June 1971, Evangelica~ testificatio, ~11, where, in writing about "the charisn{s of founders," he echoed the teachings of chapter 5 of Lumen gentium and those of Perfectae caritatis and, in doing so, challenged consecrated women and men to focus on their unique gifts to the church. Even the most casual observer of the history of consecrated life notices that, since the Second Vatican Council, the vocabulary of consecrated religious is far more conscious and respectful of particular charisms and, among these, the followers of Francis of Assisi are noteworthy. Part of the reason for the Franciscan preoccupation with their unique charism or charisms is a curious difficulty in arriving at objective knowledge of the ever Regis J. Armstrong OFMCap, editor, translator, and author, first presented these reflections on 31 January 2005 to the faculty, staff, and students of the Theological College of The Catholic University of America, where he is a professor: 220 Curley Hall; Washington, D.C. 20064. Review for Religious popular Francis of Assisi. Until the late 1970s much of our knowledge of Francis's spirituality was mediated through the hagiographic literature that surrounds him. Significantly, the 14th-century Little Flowers of Saint Francis was-~-and perhaps remains--the most widely read source for popular knowledge of the 13th-century saint. Strangely, firsthand acquaintance with the saint was limited to three, possiblyfour,'of his writings and, was only broadened when in 1976 a critical edition of his thirty-eight known writings was published and quickly translated.2 "Deceptively simple" is one way of describing those texts. While some might dismiss them because of their transparency, or view them as irrelevant because of their historical context, Francis's gospel insights continue to challenge those who study them, and their timelessness seems to draw an increasing number of reader~. The task before me is to reflect on what the spirituality, let. us say the "charism," of Francis and his followers might offer to priests and others. At this time of Eucharistic emphasis, it seems appropriate to focus on five passages of Francis's writings. The first of these, a short, fundamentally liturgical prayer, appears in the last of the saint's writings, the Testament. In it he recalls the earliest days of the Franciscan fraternity. The second is taken from a set of documents that Francis wrote upon his return from the Islamic world in 1220. The third comes from a collection of writings' that elude dating but reflect a more mature Francis who has come to grips with what gospel spirituality consists of. The remaining .two seem to have been written during the last year of his life. Three prominent gifts emerge in these writings: the gift of faith, the gift of the Spirit, and the gift of the priesthood, three gifts that form a prism through which to gaze upon the Eucharist. I offer you this prism convinced that Francis's writings envision a Eucharist-centered life and, for a 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist priest, one that is defined by v~hat he does each day: celebrate what is at the very heart of his life. The Gift of Faith Francis's Testament, written in stages toward the end of,~his life, opens with a set of reminiscences that many see as defining his vision¯ After speaking of his embrace of a leper, the beginning ofhis life of penance, he describes ., o his life of faith. ,!'And the Lord gave me such faith in churches that I would simply pray and speak in this way: "We adore you, O Lord Jesus Christ, here and in all your churches throughout the world, and we bless you, because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.'" The early biographers Thomas of Celano and St. Bonaventure maintain that he later taught this prayer to his very first followers. The prayer is ecclesial and soteriological in nature, expressing as it does an understanding of the role of the church in the accomplishment of redemption. Those familiar with the liturgical texts will recognize it as appearing in the Liber Responsalis of Gregory the Great, where it is an antiphon for matins on the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross.3 In his Documenta Vitae Religiosae, the monk Arnulphe encouraged its recitation upon entering a church and approaching the (ross.4 What is distinctive, however, is Francis's addition: ". ¯ here and in all the churches throughout the world." His version of the antiphon brings us from the abstract church to a particular, here-and-now church and to those scattered throughout the world. True, Eucharist is not We are made aware,of Francis's understanding the church pla e of encounter or adoratiom Review for Religious present or even implied in the prayer. We are nonetheless made aware of Francis's understanding of the church as the place of encounter or adoration, that is, the sacred space in which the pray-er is reminded of the central place of the cross in our redemption. Curiously, Francis sees this practical, tangible gift of faith as something flowing immediately from the embrace of a life of penance. Should we follow his train of thought in this document, Francis suggests that his discoqery of God's presence began with his encounter with a leper and continued with his entrance into a church, where he discovered what was being asked of him. These Were indeed the first dramatic steps of his spiritual journey, from a chance meeting with the leper to ,his "stumble" into the church of San Damiano, where he discerned his ca|l, His biographers rightly suggest that the two are united, in the Franciscan approach to God, two essential elements on faith's journey,s ,~ Note the focused pragmatism of this passage. The Lord's gift of faith demands expression in the ordina~ day:to-day ebb and flow of life. Francis's faith expresses itself in reverence and respect for the sacred place, the sacred place of encounter. His companions later described him with a broom in his hand gathering the priests of an area and encouraging them to keep clean ,their churches, altars, and everything connected with ~the celebration of the divine mysteries.6 Afew years~ later, the Fourth Lateran Council (canon 20) and Pope Honorius III were to address this matterZ This theme of showing reverence for the place and the accoutrements of worship is easily seen in an exhortation he wrote to all the clergy.8 For years the only existing copy of this was one found in a 13th-century missal in the Benedictine monastery of Subiaco, which boasts of a visit Francis made there during a trip to Rome. This manuscript shows the influence of 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist the decrees of Pope Honorius encouraging implemen-tation of the Fourth Lateran decree. Recently, however, an earlier manuscript of the letter was discovered, one that may have been written before or immediately after the council and confirms Francis's insistence on reverence and respect fog churches and sacred vessels.9 In both exhortations a prominent theme emerges, the central place of the Eucharist. Although Francis never uses the word Eucharist, he does write of "the Body and Blood of the Lord," thereby suggesting the concrete way in which he regards the Eucharistic presence of Christ. "In this world," he writes, "we have and see nothing corporaliter [corporally] of the Most High except [his] Body and Blood, and the words through which we have been made and redeemed from death to life." In that light, it is difficult to ignore his repeated encouragement of respect and care for what we might consider the insignificant things of worship: reservation, cleanliness, decorum, even liturgical books.° Once again Francis's addition to that liturgical antiphon--"here and in all your churches throughout the world"--emerges, so'that we see a faith that is not cerebral or otherworldly, but practical and down-to-earth. Corporaliter! If the Most High chooses to come to us corporaliter, then we. must carefully respect the matters of our worship corporaliter, in simple specific ways. Francis repeatedly and simply calls his followers to be attentive to the details of worship. These are instruments with which God enables us to proceed, in Hugh of St. Victor's words, "from the visible to the invisible." The Gift of the Spirit This leads us to an undated set of Francis's writings: his Admonitions, a title that does not express well in English the nature of these twenty-eight teachings. Each "admonition" simply presents a few biblical passages or l~evie~ for Religious images and then some practical application to daily life. This form is a common catechetical tool used by medieval instructors in the faith.~° The first admonition begins with a series of biblical passages that initially seem unrelated unless they0are viewed as examples of "seeing and believing." Francis's starting point in this first admonition is the struggles of faith of the apostles Thomas~and Philip, given that God "dwells in unapproachable light,' and "no one has ever seen God." He proceeds to the role of the Holy Spirit, who enables them and us to see things differendy, to see with what Tl~omas F. Torrance calls the Spirit's "epistemological relevance." l~ In this .way Francis leads us into the very heart of trinitarian life--the Father looks upon the Son in the Spirit, and the Son looks upon the Father in the Spirit. Francis challenges us to understand what spirituality is, namely, a Spirit-filled life: All those who saw the Lord Jesus according to the humanity and did not see and believe according to the Spirit and the Divinity that he is the true Son of God were condemned. Now, inthe same way, all those who see in the form of bread and wine the sacrament that is consecrated [literally, sanctified] at' thd altar by the Lord's words through the agency of the priest, and who do not see and believe according to the Spirit and the Divinity that it is truly the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, are condemned. To be sure, the challenge of seeing and believing is prominent, but it is cast in the context of the Spirit and the Divinity. Many commentators on Francis's writings suggest that his vision of the spiritual life is besv defined by a simple statement found in his Rule: "Let [the brothers] pay attention to what they must desire above all else: the Spirit of the Lord and its holy activity." ~2 This being the case, the Spirit's activity in making Christ the center of our lives is primary and, in this instance, 143 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist 14'4 becomes the medium through which we gaze. upon Christ. The Spirit brings us to gaze upon Christ with "the eyes" of the Father and, by our conformity with Christ, to gaze upon the Father with "the eyes" of the Son. We are confronted with what Catherine Mowry LaCugna calls "the practical Trinity" and with Karl Rahner's words: "The economic Trinity is the immanent Trinity.''t3 Far mor~ simply, Francis understands the Spirit as calling us to look upon both the incarnation and the Eucharist in a trinitarian way, seeing the incarnate Lord Jesus and the Eucharistic Lord Jesus as the Father does, with.the eyes of the Holy Spirit. As Francis describes it in the first of his ~ldmonitiones, the Spirit's presence in our lives challenges us on three levels with each celebration of the Eucharist. It reminds us of the incarnation, with the Son's daily embrace of humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability: "Behold, he humbles himself each d~ay (Ph 2:8) as when he came from the royal throne into the Virgin's womb (Ws 18:15); each day he himself comes to us, appearing humbly; each day he comes down from the bosom of the Father (Jn 1,: 18) upon the altar in the hands of a priest." The Spirit's presence also prompts alertness to the revelation that comes from the Eucharist as well as from the incarnation itself: "As [the Son] revealed himself to the holy aposdes in true flesh, so he reveals himself to us in the same way in sacred bread." Finally, in light of this, the Spirit's presence fosters contemplation of the Eucharist with what Francis calls, in words reminiscent of Bernard of Clairvaux, ".spiritual eyes" 14: "And as they saw only his fleshwith their physical sight, yet believed that he was God as they conteInplated him with their spiritual eyes, let us, as we see bread and wine with our bodily eyes, see and firmly believe that they are his most holy Body and Blood living and true." , Revie~v for Religious These three sentences from Francis's Admonitiones provide insight into his understanding of a Spirit-filled life. We could concentrate on these thoughts about Jesus' humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability, or we could focus on his encouragement of "adoration," that primary Spirit-inspired activity which many commentators consider the heart of his theology of prayer. There is another, more noteworthy contribution, however, that Francis makes to Christian spirituality, one that gets overlooked: his concern that our lives be conformed to the Eucharist, that they somehow imitate the life of the Eucharistic Christ. Curiously, very little has been written about this, possibly because of that troublesome word imitation, a word Francis never uses and one that enters strongly into the vocabulary of Christian spirituality only in the 14th, not the 13th, century.15 The more common word for this was conformity. Bernard of Clairvaux says wonderfully that Christ is the form to which deformed man must conform in order to be reformed. One is called to bring one's form into line with the form that is Christ. In the spiritual literature of the time, this is brought about by the work of the Holy Spirit. Contemplation of Christ in the Eucharist, contemplation with "spiritual eyes," is primarily the Spirit's doing.16 In Francis's understanding of the call, the Eucharist demands the daily embrace of the virtues of humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability that the Incarnate Word lives and reveals each day. The Eucharist demands the daily embrace of the virtues of humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability that the Incarnate Word lives and reveals each day. 65.2 2006 Armstrong * Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist 1461 The Gift of Priesthood This brings us to selections from Francis's last two writings, the first of which is actually a return to Francis's very last, his Testament, with which these reflections began. After reflecting upon the gift of faith, Francis continues: Afterwards the Lord gave me--and gives me still-- such faith in priests who live according to the rite of the holy Roman church because of their orders that, were they to persecute me, I would still have recourse to them. And if I had as much wisdom as Solomon and found .impoverished priests of this world, I would not preach in their parishes against their will. And I desire to respect, love, and honor them and all others as my lords. And I do not want to consider any sin in them because I discern the Son of God in them and they are my lords. And I act thus because in this world I see nothing corporally of the Most High Son of God except his most holy Body and Blood which they receive and they alone administer to others. It is a rather curious statement coming from a man facing death, one that contains bits and pieces that tantalize biographers of Francis and historians of the Franciscan movement. There are sufficient anecdotes in the early lives of Francis to suggest that he was indeed ridiculed, abused, and demeaned. More significant are the number of papal decrees insisting that Francis and his brothers be given permission to preach, suggesting that doors were indeed being slammed in their faces. The dying Francis transcends all this and leaves as his legacy an example of "respect, love, and honor" for priests as those who are his superiors, his "lords." Once again that refrain surfaces: "I see nothing corporaliter of the Most High Son of God." Here it does so in reference to priests, who "receive. and administer to others" the most holy Body and Blood of the Lord. All Review for Religious that he may have endured--persecution, being taken advantage of, imposed on--is put into context. Francis refuses even to take notice of a priest's sin--that judgment, he maintains, belongs only to God--because of the priest's sacerdotal intimacy with the Eucharist, with the Body and Blood of the Lord. Naive? Simplistic? Challenging? In our day especially, these attitudes seem unrealistic and, in light of recent scandals, disingenuous. To understand them, we must turn to passages from the last and perhaps most beautiful of Francis's writings, one that almost certainly was written at the same time as his Testament, that is, at the end of his life. Only a man comfortable with himself could have written The Letter to the Entire Order. While clearly written by the "inspirational" figure of the brotherhood, by Francis himself, the letter does not hesitate to admit to negligence or weakness, to being "ignorant or unlettered" and "useless and unworthy." Many of its themes resonate with Francis's earlier writings, especially those on the Liturgy of the Hours and the Liturgy of the Eucharist. The maturity of Francis's Eucharistic spirituality, however, appears clearly in this passage: Kissing your feet, and with all the love of which I am capable, I implore all of you brothers to show all possible reverence and honor to the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, in whom that which is in heaven and on earth is brought to peace and reconciled to theall-powerful God. This comes from the Francis who a year or so earlier had the mystical experience of Greccio, where the Christ Child appeared in his arms. This comes from the Francis who shortly afterwards had that other mystical experience of Christ Crucified, which left him with the stigmata. This comes from the Francis who then composed one of the most mystical of all writings, The Canticle of Brother i147 65.2 2006 Armstrong * Francis's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist 148 Sun, where his vision of the peace and reconciliation brought by Christ to all creation is expressed in remarkable poetry. In light of this, what follows is one of his most penetrating challenges: In the Lord I also beg all my brothers who are, or who will be, or who desire to be priests of the Most High that, whenever they want to celebrate Mass, pure themselves, they offer the true sacrifice of the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ with purity and reverence, with a holy and unblemished intention, not for any worldly reason or out of fear or love of someone, intending to please human beings. But, desiring by the sacrifice to please only the most high God himself, let every will be directed to God as far as grace makes possible because there he himself acts alone as he pleases. Here we see the call of the priest to live corporaliter in light of the life corporaliter of Christ now revealed in the Eucharist. The call to purity and to celebrate with purity, the call to be single-minded, and the call to have my every desire directed by God comes from an ongoing call to conversion. The example of the reverence of Mary, the Mother of God, and of the Baptist help bring that call to us. Francis's challenge is simple yet profound: "See your dignity, my brothers [who are] priests, and be holy because He is holy. As the Lord God has .honored you above all others by this ministry, for your part love, revere, and honor him above all others. It is a great misery and a miserable weakness when you have him present in this way and are concerned with anything else in the whole world!" Tree-Huggersmbut Much Much More What does Francis of Assisi, a medieval, Umbrian- Italian mystic offer to American priests in this vital endeavor? My good friend Luke Patrick O'Connell once Review for Religious teased me by characterizing Franciscans as "tree-huggers." Luke, however, was introducing a rather profound discussion on the theological concept of charism. He was attempting to draw me out on what the followers of Francis contribute today to the life and growth of the church. It is a good question, one with which I continue to struggle on many different levels. Pope John Paul once observed that what makes Francis of Assisi so appealing to people of all ages and cultures is his dominant image of God: the One who is all good. "It is what makes you optimists," he suggested, "and, therefore, prophets of hope." Francis's biographers Thomas of Celano and Saint Bonaventure wrote that "he savored in each and every creature, as in so many rivulets, the Fountain of Divine Goodness." In Francis's own writings, however, it is clear that he found God's goodness, the gifts of faith and of the Spirit, more and more overwhelming in the mystery of the Eucharist. In the light of that gift, the daily revelation of God's incredible goodness in his Son, the priesthood became for Francis a reflection of what Eucharist is all about: God's daily humility, self-emptying, and vulnerability. In a word, the Christ of the Eucharist defines the priest! One's sacerdotal character must be molded by the Eucharistic Jesus, who each day places himself in the hands of this priest. Clare of Assisi frequently comes to mind in pondering the mystery of a vocation. Clare begins her own Testament Francis found God's goodness, the gifts of faith and of the Spirit, more and more overwhelming in the mystery of the Eucharist. 1149 6Y. 2 2006 Ar~nstrong ¯ Francis~s Cbaris~n, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist reflecting on the role Francis played in that call. She writes: "Among the other gifts we have received and do receive each day, and for which we must express the deepest thanks to our glorious God, there is our vocation, which the more perfect and greater it is, the more are we indebted to him. Therefore the Apostle [writes]: 'Recognize your vocation.'" In her theology, the vocation is given anew each day and demands each day our most profound thanks. For a priest, Francis would add, each day that gift and that gratitude for the priesthood grow in intensity as the daily celebration of the Mystery of Faith ever so gently teaches the priest its meaning. Thus he writes: Let everyone be struck with fear, the whole world tremble, and the heavens exult when Christ, the Son of the living God, is present on the altar in the hands of a priest! O wonderful loftiness and stupendous condescension! O sublime humility! O humble sublimity! The Lord of the universe, God and the Son of God, so humbles himself that he hides himself under a little piece of bread! See the humility of God, brothers, and pour out your hearts before him! Humble yourselves that you may be exalted by him! Hold back nothing of yourselves for yourselves, that he who gives himself totally to you may receive you totally! Notes ~ Information on charisms may be found in Elizabeth McDonough, "Charisms and Religious Life," Review for Religious 52 (1993): 646- 659. Review for Religious 2 Die Opuscula des H1. Franziskus yon Assisi: Neue Textkritische Edition, ed. Kajetan Esser (Grottaferrata, Rome: Collegio S. Bonaventura di Quaracchi, 1976). This text was the basis for Francis" and Clare: The Complete Works, trans, and intro, by Regis J. Armstrong and Ignatius C. Brady (New York: Paulist Press, 1982). All translations from the writings of Francis and Clare are taken from this volume, though sometimes modified. 3 Gregory the Great, LiberResponsalis (PL 78,804). 4 Arnulphe de Boeriis, Documenta Vitae Religiosae (PL 184, 1177): "Deinde, veniens ad ecclesiam, pone manum super ostium, et dic: Exspectate hic, cogitationes malae, intentiones et affectus cordis, et appetitus carnis. Tu autem, anima mea, intra in gaudium Domini Dei tui, ut videas voluntatem Domini, et visites templum ejus. Sicque veniens ante crucem dic: 'Adoramus te, Christe, et benedicimus tibi.'" (Coming to a church, put your hand on the door and say: Wait here, evil thoughts, intentions, and inclinations of my heart and desires of my flesh. You, though, my soul, enter into the joy of the Lord your God, so that you may see the Lord's will and enter his temple. And so, coming before the cross, say: "We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you.") s See Franqois de Beer, La Conversion de Saint Francois (Paris: ]~ditions Franciscaines, 1963). 6 "Assisi Compilation" 60, in The Founder, Vol. 2 of Francis of Assisi: Early Documents, ed. Regis J. Armstrong, J.A. Wayne Hellmann, and William J. Short (Hyde Park, New York: New City Press, 2000), pp. 162-163. 7 For the texts of both Canon 20 of the Fourth Lateran Council and Sane cure olim or Expectavimus bactenus of Innocent III, see The Saint, Vol. 1 of Francis of Assisi: Early Documents (Hyde Park: New City Press, 1999), pp. 53c. 55a. Hereafter The Saint. 8 See The Saint, pp. 54-55. 9 See The Saint, pp. 52-53. ~0 See Regis J. Armstrong, "The Prophetic Implications of the Admonitions," in Francescanesimo e Profezia (Roma: Laurentianum, 1986): pp. 386-464. ~ Thomas F. Torrance, "The Epistemological Relevance of the Holy Spirit," in God and Rationality (London: Oxford University Press, 1971), pp. 165-192. t2 For a full exposition of the theme, see Optatus van Asseldonk, "The Spirit of the Lord and Its Holy Activity," Greyfriars Review 5 (1991): 103-158. ,3 Karl Rahner, The Trinity, trans. Joseph Donceel (New York: Herder and Herder, 1970); "Remarks on the Dogmatic Treatise 'De 151 65.2 2006 Armstrong ¯ Frands's Charism, Tree-Huggers, and the Eucharist Trinitate,'" Theological Investigations, Vol. 4 (New York: Seabury Press, 1974), pp. 77-102. 14 Karl Rahner, "The Doctrine of the 'Spiritual Senses' in the Middle Ages," Experience of the Spirit: Source of Theology, Vol. 16 of Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1983), pp. 104-134. ~s Edouard Cothenet et al., Imitating Christ, vol. 5 of Religious Experience series (St. Meinrad, Indiana: Abbey Press, 1974); Andr4 Rayez, "The Golden Age of Medieval Devotion: The Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries," in Jesus in Christian Devotion and Contemplation, vol. 1 of Religious Experience series (St. Meinrad: Abbey Press, 1974), pp. 44-85. ~6 This sentiment finds an echo in John Paul II's Dominicae Coenae: "Eucharistic worship., is precisely the expression of that love which is the authentic and deepest characteristic of the Christian vocation . A living fruit of this worship is the perfecting of the image of God that we bear within us, an image that corresponds to the one that Christ has revealed to us." Quoted in L'Osservatore Romano, English edition, 26 January 2005, p. 12. Palm Sunday Dear Lord, ride into my heart today on the stubborn mule of my own self-rule. These garments strewn along your way are the little things to which my will clings. 0 Christt. let your triumph be complete: let nothing remain proud, stubborn, or vain. I lie surrendered at your feet. Now, let my voice raise Hosannas of praiser. Agnes Cunningham SSCM Review for Religious ¯ JULIUS D. LELOCZKY Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation The great Carmelite martyr St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, better known as Edith Stein, wrote somewhere: "The imitation of Mary includes the imitation of Christ because Mary is the first Christian to follow Christ. Indeed, that is why the imitation of Mary is relevant not only to women but to all Christians." Let us meditate briefly on how religious life can be an "imita-tion of Mary." From all eternity Mary was chosen by God to be the mother of the Redeemer, and she was called at the annunciation. We, too, have been chosen and called: "God chose us in Jesus Christ before the foundation of the world, that we should be holy and blameless before him" (Ep 1:4). By this call and her response, Mary became a daughter of God in a special way; she became the new, obedient Eve. Just as Mary must have Julius D. Leloczky OCist joined the Cistercians in Hungary in 1953, later studied in Rome, and in 1964 was sent to the abbey where he continues to live: Cistercian Abbey; 3550 Cistercian Road; Irving, Texas 75039. 6Y.2 2006 Leloczky ¯ Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation wondered why was she chosen, we, too, can ask our-selves: "Why me? Out of the millions of people, why me?" The answer is that it is a mystery, the mystery of love. What happens to us is what happened to the rich young man: "Jesus looked at him, and he loved him" (Mk 10:21). The call of each of us is a call for a unique, spe-cial task, one that no one else can accomplish. Our response should mirror the love of the One who called us, but we are called not just to do a job; we are called to give a loving response. The call has, like a coin, two sides: we are called away from something and we are called to do something, called for something. From the moment the angel appeared to Mary, her whole life was changed. She was no longer her own person, she belonged to Someone else. We have been called away from the average or "normal" way of life, from starting a family, from having a civilian job, from having our own home, car, property. We have been called to a loving unconditional surrender, offering ourselves as Mary did: "I am the maidservant of the Lord. Let it be done to me according to your word." We have been called for a life-long adventure of love, and we do not know where this love will take us. As religious, we have been called to conceive the Word of God in our heart and soul. This conception is "virginal" because it takes place entirely between God and ourselves, without the intervention of anybody else. We have been called to give the Word of God, the Son of God, to others. We can do it only if first we ourselves have conceived Him, carried him in the womb of our soul, nurtured him, let him grow inside us, from our-selves-- if not from our flesh and blood, certainly from our personality. Just as Jesus must have had much like-ness to his Mother, the Word growing within us will take on our likeness. This Word, however, is not just an intel- Review for Religious lectual idea. It does not reside only in our intellect; it must penetrate our entire being, our whole existence. Disciples are not tape recorders to replay the words exactly as we heard them. Sifted through our personali-ties, God's words have to take on the special shade or tint of what we are as persons, just as the gospel of Jesus Christ is different from the pen of Mark and John. Mary's virginity was fruitful; the unmarried state of a religious also must be fruitful. Members of religious orders, when answering God's call to an unmar-ried way of life, do not choose to live in lifeless sterility. They do not give up either love, pas-sion, or motherhood or fatherhood. They just practice them in a dif-ferent way, living, by God's grace, their ability to love on a higher level. Their fruitfulness realizes itself in two ways. Like Mary, they become mothers of the Word of God, and mothers or fathers of many spiritual children. The birth of a child is preceded by birth pangs. No one expressed more dramatically the pain of giving birth to God's word than Jeremiah: "O Lord, you have deceived me, and I let myself be :deceived. You are stronger than I, and you have prevailed. I have become a laughingstock all the day. Everyone mocks me . If I say, 'I will not mention him or speak any more in his name,' there is in my heart as it were a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot bear it" (Jr 20:7,9). To give birth to God's Word is a painful but irresistible duty. It is painful to commu- Members of religious orders, when answering God's call to an unmarried way of life, do not choose to live in lifeless sterility. 65.2 2006 Leloczky ¯ Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation 1,56 nicate the Word to others; it is difficult to put Christ's message into human words, to pass on to others Jesus himself and not just our own ego. It can be painful to give Jesus to others, because some people will not accept him, will show a hostile attitude toward him and us, will resist and reject him and us. Yet we have to go on, to continue undeterred, remembering God's word to Jeremiah: "And I, behold, I make you this day a forti-fied city, an iron pillar, and bronze walls, against the whole land" (Jr 1 : 18). If we proclaim God's word, we become parents, and those who listen to us will become our children. This is so even in the case of contemplative religious. It is not by accident that St. Th~r~se of Lisieux has been chosen the patron saint of the missions. If we think back to our young years, we can recall some special persons in our lives whom we can consider our spiritual mothers or fathers. As we advance in age, the roles become reversed, and we should be spiritual parents for others. But it is a frightening realization that we proclaim the Word more by our deeds than by our words; our words and deeds should communicate the gospel message in perfect har-mony. St. Paul dared to set himself as a model for the early Christians. "Imitate me," he wrote. We may shy away from saying the same, but we know that our words will be credible only if they are lived and made a reality in our daily lives. Just as Mary was with Jesus at the wedding at Cana, so she is with us in our apostolic prayer and activity. When we are in any special need, she will tell her Son: "They have no wine." Just as in Cana, with the refined sense of a woman, a housewife, a mother, she perceives if something is missing, if there is a problem, and she will intervene. And, even if Jesus showed some reluc-tance first, Mary knows that her Son will help, and she Review for Religious will tell us to "do whatever he tells you." The interven-tion of the saints is powerful, but the efficiency of Mary's intercessory prayer is unparalleled. Just recall the words of the famous Memorare prayer of the great Cistercian saint Bernard of Clairvaux: "Never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection was left unaided." A mother's life is an unstoppable process of gradual separation from her child. Only during pregnancy can she have the feeling that the child is completely hers. After the baby has been born, as the child is growing, it will spend more and more time away from home, away from its mother. During adolescence the child will claim an ever greater independence. After he or she finishes school and starts a family, the separation will be com-plete. Mary, too, had this painful experience. The twelve-year- old Jesus remained in the temple: "I must be in my Father's house." During his public ministry Jesus called his disciples mother and brothers and sisters, thus in a way pushing away from himself his biological family. On the cross, Jesus gave a mere disciple to his mother in place of himself. Look at Michelangelo's Pietb, this Magnificat prayer carved into marble, and see Mary's generous surrender. Even after all her trials and suffer-ings, she was still the humble handmaid of the Lord. There are two ways of experiencing this separation: (a) to live without the experience of Jesus' presence or close-ness and (b) to allow our spiritual children to grow up and go off and live their lives. Mary, by her suffering and agony, added something to the redeeming sufferings of her Son. Similarly, by car-rying our daily crosses (their heaviness may change from time to time), we complement "what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body, the church" (Col 1:24). Our sufferings can be physical or spiritual or emotional. They may take the form of sickness, exhaus- 6Y.2 2006 Leloczky ¯ Imitation of Mary and the Religious Vocation tion, frustration, or burnout, They may be caused by the very people for whose sake we are spending our days and burning our energies, as when the crowd shouted at Jesus, "Crucify him!" We may be attacked or accused without reason, we may be slandered, or we may feel abandoned as Jesus did when he cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" But we should not forget that the sadness lasted only three days. Imagine Mary's joy at Jesus' resurrection, at her encounter with her risen Son. The same joy is waiting for us. We just have to persevere, to continue imitating Christ by imi-tating Mary faithfully, day after day. 158 Prayer Slowly and meditatively pray the Memorare prayer. Remember, 0 most gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to your protection, implored your help, or sought your intercesson was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, I fly unto you, 0 Virgin of virgins, my Mother; to you do I come, before you I stand, sinful and sorrowful. 0 Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in your mercy hear and answer me. Amen Review for Religious MARY JOSEPH SCHULTZ Just Because I Said So Sohifting numbers, median ages, and the geography f religious life over the past several decades and today as well do not cause me to pause and reflect on whether we have a future, as many religious have recently been wondering. I believe that religious life most defi-nitely does have a future. For each individual commu-nity, where that future goes must be carefully discerned in the Spirit. But there are other questions with less clear answers. What impels us to go on? What can we offer new members to quench their thirsty hearts once they join us? I would like to reflect on one word as the answer to both these questions--commitment. It is not a popular word today in a mobile and disposable society such as ours. The word commitment is at one and the same time a sign of contradiction to some and a challenge and cause for hope to many others. In some circles a lifelong com-mitment to religious life has fallen under examination in recent years. For my part, I cannot buy into the notion Mary Joseph Schultz SCC, president of Assumption College for Sisters, wrote for us in 2003. Her address is 350 Bernardsville Road; Mendham, New Jersey 07945. 65.2 2006 Schultz ¯ ~tst Because I Said So of a limited commitment to religious life just as I can-not buy into the idea of a temporary marriage commit-ment. As religious we vow ourselves to a God unseen but not unknown. We embrace centuries-old charisms of peo-ple whose lives and lifestyles were shaped by grace amid definite historical settings and cultural needs. We set aside wealth, sexual activity, and the disposition of our own will in freely choosing poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence for life. It is imperative that we study our own com-mitments in gratitude--and that we find ways to convey its challenge, meaning, and joy to Generations X and Y-- if we truly have hope in our communities' future. Our brothers and sisters in community who celebrate fifty, sixty, and even seventy-five years of religious life overflow with peace and joy in their long, faithful, and fruitful commitments, just as their married counterparts do who celebrate their golden anniversaries. What is their secret? Why and how have they survived and thrived in a world of instant gratification, noise, infi-delity, moral weakness, and faltering leadership and through forty years of post-Vatican II experimentation, discussion, renewal, and change in their communities? They would probably answer the question very simply: "I am still here because I said I would be." Sefin Sammon, in his wise and prophetic book Religious Life in America, speaks of the impact of public commitment to the evangelical counsels: "In carrying out our ministry in a spirit of selfless service, we witness further to countercultural values. How? By avoiding the all too familiar and tragic betrayal of consecrated life that occurs when we give our heart away generously at the time of first commitment, and then take it back, bit by bit, with each passing year" (p. 92). Commitment is not widely modeled for today's youth, either in families or in society at large. Hedonism and Review for Religious materialism erode the very notion of a committed life. The rapidity and challenge of change surround every aspect of our culture today. Opting out of anything dis-agreeable or tiresome is only a mouse-click away. Young people are constantly in and out of hobbies, activities, and relationships without so much as a glance back-ward. Often parents try to be supportive by signing them up for lessons, buy-ing instruments and sports either in families or equipment and providing taxi service to and from in society at large. appointments and games. For the young, broad arrays of opportunity and experience soon become bor-ing- or become irritatingly impossible when parental money or patience runs short. Entering my community as an aspirant in my teens in the late 1960s, I truly aspired to living religious life. It was hard for me and for those my age to understand all the post-Vatican II talk about "returning to your foundress's charism." Certainly we should already be who we say we are! Why wouldn't we be, and how could we not be? Naive teenage questions. But, from the moment I left home to enter as a sophomore, my heart was com-mitted to my dream, and I was just a little puzzled by what I saw and heard going on around me. Wasn't every sister as committed as I thought she was or should be? Through the difficult weeks of homesickness, a cer-tain degree of stubbornness and a huge amount of grace sustained me. I knew my choice was right. From my early years my family realized that I was serious about being a sister. It was all I talked about and I only had to wait (impatiently) until I was old enough to be accepted. My Commitment is not widely modeled for today's youth, 65.2 2006 Scbultz ¯ s~ust Because I Said So ,° 1 21 older siblings at times "tested" me and offered their opin-ions about my leaving home at fourteen. But my parents were supportive in their quiet and undemonstrative way. They were proud of me, I knew, loved the sisters, and backed me up at each step. One day shortly before I was set to leave, my mother said, "You know, you really can change your mind. You don't have to go just because you said so." I believe she wanted to give me a last chance to back out with minimal embarrassment. My reply was simple: "I know, Morn, but I want to be a sister." From that day on no more was said. My father died a year later, and my mother was proud of my life choice. She later became a lay associate in my community. Mom's words often ring in my ears: "Just because you said so." Certainly I am not the same person I was at fourteen, but there are traces of that determined girl still inside. I am not the same person I was at final profession twenty-five years ago. But there is one thing I pray never changes, that I am a woman of my word. To me this is a very positive quality. While "just because I said so" can deteriorate into an authoritarian dictate held over the head of a student (and I confess to having resorted to it more than once in a classroom of questioning teens), these same words are to me a sign of fidelity and com-mitment. I gave my word and I intend to keep it, not grudgingly but joyfully. Whether from genetics or my serious temperament or both, when I tell someone I am going to do some-thing, I make it my business to follow through. This can lead to scrupulosity or unhealthy guilt if I am not care-ful. I can place unrealistic expectations on myself (or on others through transference) as I strive to pray for all the prayer requests, write all those notes, make those phone calls, or do those favors that I promised I would. As I have noticed, other temperaments seem to have no Review for Relig4ous problem breaking those promises, skipping those phone calls, or never getting back to me, but they also have fewer sleepless nights. I believe that giving my word to others is about the best I can give them. In this I share God's own view-- giving God's Word was the best of gifts. Giving my word to God on my profession day symbolized all of me with nothing held back. This perpetual commitment, lived out one day, one moment, at a time, is a beautiful gift that I hope to never take back or take for granted. Not knowing the trials, temptations, or dryness that lay ahead could not lessen the fullness of the gift. In fact it only served to increase the value. God took me at my word, and the journey of religious life has been remarkable. Unlike in a marriage vow, I am guaranteed the fidelity of my Partner, and if there is any cooling in the relationship it can only be on one side! "Just because I said so" is in itself hardly a solid enough motivation for perseverance. These words can easily reflect mere stubbornness or the desire to prove something to myself or others. I have seen some sisters leave the community, even after final profession, because this motivation to please self or a parent was the sole force behind their entering religious life. If love, humility, and grace do not underlie my words, then I am foolish and my life is a sham and an exercise in self-righteousness. Giving my word verbally and on the vow formula signed on the altar came after long years of trial and preparation. My commitment was not made as a naive religious wearing rose-colored glasses. I had seen many "heroes" leave the community, had watched the divi-siveness of Vatican II experimentation, and had been asked to step forward and take my place as a responsible member of the community. Publicly pronouncing the words "I vow to almighty God perpetual chastity, 6~ .2 2006 Schultz ¯ ~st Because I Said So poverty, and obedience" was the best I could do, then and now. I would do it all over again today, even know-ing what would lie ahead. I would once again give my word. At the time of my entrance, I believe I had it much easier because, while there were hundreds of communi-ties, my familiarity with them was very limited. Many girls entered a community whose members had taught them or with whom there was already a relative or a close association. This is not the case today, especially with so few religious left in the classrooms. A young person discerning religious life today has a greater challenge than I did forty years ago, partly because of the wide array, of choices open to her. Even after deciding to become a religious, someone could literally spend years of her life visiting monasteries and convents for "Come and see" weekends. With the easy availability of appeal-ing vocation literature and online access, a serious and thorough examination of multiple communities might even turn her into a delayed vocation! What is it that makes a young woman decide on a particular community? What makes a heart resonate and feel at home with one group rather than another? I feel that, when all is said and done, communities must sim-ply be who they say they are. Authenticity is the key that will unlock commitment. After forty years of communal soul-searching, it is time for communities simply to move on. It is time to claim who we are, corporately commit to the charism, and put all our energies into authentic liv-ing of our foundress's spirit here and now in the 21st century. There can be no going back. Now is the time for simply joining hands, holding tight, and boldly moving ahead according to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. This is the gift we have to offer new members, a gift that will enliven our future. Review for Religious Young people, seeking authentic community, will go where they find the real deal. And how can such a com-munity survive today except through common prayer, deep spirituality, shared vision and lifestyle, corporate witness, and joyful life in the Spirit of Jesus. This is what they seek, hoping against hope that such groups exist and will provide them with the challenge they desire so ardently. We have a responsibility to live up to our word. We are here because we said we would be. I am here because I said so. And is this not a Godlike quality--giving one's word? God's Word and our own are why we are all here in the first place. Personal Reflection / Group Conversation 1. What has been my experience of "growing into a com-mitment"? 2. What led me to joining this religious congregation of which I am a member? 65.2 2006 religious VIMAL TIRIMANNA Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? implications In January 2002, I was in a bus on my way from Colombo to Kandy, Sri Lanka. Next to me in the same seat was a Buddhist monk. He was very friendly and kept me engaged in a lively con-versation on various matters about our two reli-gions till we reached Kandy, a journey of some three hours. At one stage he wanted to know why the cardinal archbishop of Boston had to resign (an issue widely reported in our local newspapers). I said that it was due to allegations (especially by the media) of his not having made responsible decisions regarding several errant priests of his archdiocese who were involved in sexual abuse. The Buddhist monk was visibly surprised, for till then he was of the opinion that the archbishop had to resign because he him-self was involved in sexual abuse. This Buddhist monk may be excused for his inaccurate impres-sion, but one wonders how many of our own Vimal Tirimanna wrote for us in May-June 2001. His address until October 2006 is Redemptorists; Frangipani; No. 80 Ampitiya Road; Kandy, Sri Lanka. Review for Religious Catholics, including religious and priests, are unaware of why Cardinal Law had to resign. If the factors and reasons that led him to resign from the prestigious Archdiocese of Boston had been applied to various other bishops and religious superiors around the world today, one wonders how many would have had to follow Cardinal Law and resign their posts. It is no exaggeration to say that, in cases of sexual abuse and also in other crucial areas of priestly and religious life, a good number of church leaders are badly wanting in their pas-toral responsibility and accountability towards their sub-jects and institutes. This arises from not making responsible timely decisions, decisions that ought to have been made for the common good of the diocese or reli-gious congregation and for the good of the church. Note that in this article we are not dealing with an occasional failure to make a responsible decision, which is some-thing normal since bishops and superiors are human; we are dealing with habitual negligence to make decisions on the part of bishops and religious superiors. Consistent, habitual evasion of making decisions has contributed immensely to the contemporary difficulties in priestly and religious life and in church life in general. This is the main point of this article. I write this article from my fifteen years of experi-ence as a retreat preacher to the clergy (both diocesan and religious) in Sri Lanka and elsewhere, and also from the experience I gained from my close association with major superiors as president of the Conference of the Major Religious Superiors of Sri Lanka (for two terms, four years) and from being the major superior of the Redemptorists in Sri Lanka (for three terms, nine years). I limit myself here to consecrated life and then to show-ing how the irresponsibility and unaccountability of a good number of religious superiors have contributed to 6Y.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? 168, the present disturbed state of consecrated life. I will ana-lyze briefly what authority means in the Christian tradi-tion, and then I will try to show how secular democratic political trends have affected the role of superiors, how their craving for popularity among their subjects has often inhibited them from making many a vital consci-entious decision. I will show that in these situations it is impossible for prophetic and diplomatic roles to func-tion simultaneously. I will conclude by highlighting the need today for religious superiors to make conscientious, pastoral, and courageous decisions for the sake of the common good of their institutes, and thus give prophetic leadership to today's world. Authority in the Christian Tradition Jesus clearly condemns oppressive and despotic power wielded by the rulers of nations (Mk 10:42). He tells his disciples who were arguing about which of them was the greatest that he who wants to be great must make him-self the least of all and serve others (Mk 9:33-35). For him, true authority is for service in truth, as he so tellingly demonstrated throughout his earthly life, which reached a climax at the last supper when he washed the feet of his own apostles (Jn 13:115). Emulating Jesus' teaching, the Christian tradition has always held that authority is for service. Accordingly, all leaders, civil as well as ecclesiastical, are expected to be servants of the common good of the group that is entrusted to them. A New Testament image dear to the early Christian community was Jesus the good shepherd. This is shown especially in the frescoes in the early catacombs. A shep-herd carrying a sheep on his.shoulders is a common fig-ure in those early places of worship. In fact, the concept of shepherd or "p, astor" and the adjective "pastoral" are woven into our inherited tradition regarding authority. ¯ Review for Religious To be a pastor or shepherd is to take flocks to where there is food and water, looking out for their safety and well-being. In our Christian tradition, leadership, whether in consecrated life or in a diocese, requires the care, compassion, and concern of a shepherd towards his sheep. The well-being of the flock and of each individ-ual sheep ought to be the - - - shepherd or pastor's top priority. If shepherds or pastors are more concerned about themselves, they cease to be shepherds and become hirelings concerned first of all with fattening themselves (see Ezk 34, Jn - - 10:7-18). Superiors, then, are supposed to be shepherds, serving the flock entrusted to them, not seeking their own good, not even their own survival. It is, of course, true that consecrated life has changed drastically in our day and so has the style of community leadership. It is sufficient to compare and contrast the era before Vatican Council II and afterwards. No one would argue today for the type of leadership that was prevalent in consecrated life before the council. It is also true that the way "authority" and "leadership" are under-stood varies from culture to culture. Regardless of the differences in worldviews and the ways of exercising authority, one essential and undeniable element of authority is that superiors' decision making must be for the common good. In the church in general and in con-secrated life in particular, such decision making is vital. After the initial stages of involving as many members as possible in the decision-making process, religious supe-riors must not abdicate their own decision making under any pretext. If they do so, they cease to serve the good of The Christian tradition has' always held that authority is for service. 6L2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correa'? 170 the community. This was expressed well in the instru-mentum laboris of the ordinary assembly of the Synod of Bishops held in 1994, on "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World": The role of authority is that of a sure and authorita-tive guide, of inspiration and encouragement, so that an environment of fraternal communion can be cre-ated, one which can facilitate personal spiritual growth and the fulfillment of the apostolic mission, without, however, declining the responsibility to decide when-ever necessary. (§59) The postsynodal apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata (1996) of Pope John Paul II said: While authority must be above all fraternal and spir-itual, and while those entrusted with it must know how to involve their brothers and sisters in the deci-sion- making process, it should still be remembered that the final word belongs to authority and, consequendy, that authority has the right to see that decisions made are respected. (§43, emphasis in the original text) Superiors Seeking Popularity in Their Communities The latter decades of the 20th century are noted for the spread of democracy in different parts of the globe. Democracy has become a universally accepted human value. Even countries that are not yet democratic are striving, indeed yearning, for it. This is surely a wel-come change for the whole of humanity. Normally democracy not only guarantees human rights on the basis of individuals' inherent dignity, but also for the com-mon good assures the participation of every citizen in the political decision making. Since democracy assures citizens' right to change those in authority after an agreed term of office, those officials normally spend a lot of their energy and resources to be popular, for it is their popularity that ensures their success at elections. Rarely do they offend citizens in public or make unpop- Review for Religious ular decisions even when such decisions are necessary for the common good. If they do, their very survival is at stake. With the mass media often playing the role of watchdog, political leaders today are pressured to say and do the "politically correct" thing. The phrase is fast becoming common parlance. The more "politically cor-rect" you are, the more popular you become. Political leaders who dare to make unpopular decisions, even though such decisions are dictated by their consciences and demanded by the common good, are being thrown out of office. Parallel to happenings in the secular world are some of the ways that religious congregations do things. Thanks to Vatican II, gone are the rigid (and sometimes absurd) practices that marked consecrated life in the years before the council. Although religious congrega-tions cannot be considered democracies in a literal sense, wider participation in congregational and community decision making has brought a lot of relevance and good sense to consecrated life. Today sensible persons heave a sigh of relief and thank God that most of the irrational and dictatorial ways of being a religious superior are over. Today religious superiors are really meant to serve the common good of the flock entrusted to them. The secular concept of democracy surely has had a positive influence on these changes in religious life. Our own experience during the past couple of decades, however, shows that the same concept of democ-racy also seems to have had a negative effect on many religious superiors. Just as secular political leaders earnestly seek popularity, and survive and eventually move up the political ladder because of their popularity, today's religious superiors often seem to seek such pop-ularity within their own congregations for their mere survival and sometimes for their upward mobility either !171 65.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correa'? 172 in the congregation or in the hierarchy. Many of our contemporary religious superiors are doubly careful not to make "politically incorrect" decisions that would make them unpopular among the members of their congrega-tions and thus bring about their own downfall. The wider consultations (and, in many congregations, elections) that since Vatican II are rightly carried out in electing or appointing religious superiors seem to put the supe-riors in a dilemma. On the one hand, to be elected or reelected, they have to be popular or well accepted. On the other hand, to be popular or well accepted, they have to play to the gallery by not making decisions that would upset the majority of the members. Note that by "pop-ularity" I do not mean the mere acceptability of superi-ors to the other members of the community, which is a must in consecrated life. I mean the kind of "popular-ity" that is gained by not offending numbers of influen-tial people. People accrue such "popularity" by not making decisions that are badly needed for the common good--even when their conscience prompts them to do so. They avoid certain good decisions simply because they would offend the majority of the members. It is a "popularity" that is gained and sustained by pandering to a lumpenproletariat. The more superiors do not make deci-sions that would make them unpopular with the major-ity, the more acceptable they become all around. The more they evade their bounden duty to make decisions that could make them unpopular, the greater their chances of getting reelected or reappointed. This is why today, in quite a number of congregations, we hear mem-bers saying: "We made sure to have so-and-so elected because we are sure he (or she) will not rock the boat." To illustrate the point here, let us look at the now popular sabbaticals. Is it always those who really deserve a real break after a tedious involvement in the congre- Review for Religious gational apostolate who get a sabbatical today? Are all those who go for sabbaticals the "burnt-out" persons? What about the way some superiors treat members who complain that they lack self-fulfillment? Are they not fre-quently permitted to find their "self-fulfillment" by get-ting into any and every personal apostolate or pet project, even when these cut them off from their communities? Today it is not uncommon to send abroad for higher stud-ies persons who are erratic or wanting in their basic reli-gious commitment. The persons concerned may not even have the capacity for studies, but to some superiors this seems a diplomatic way of handling the problem, at least temporarily. They do not realize or do not wish to real-ize that such evasions leave the problem for their suc-cessors in office. Such ways of acting are neither just nor charitable even from the point of view of the persons thus treated. Instead of addressing the real problem of the person with genuine charity and justice, they tem-porarily circumvent the issue, not out of sympathy, but instead out of concern for their own survival. Regrettably, avoiding good hard decisions has become an accepted way of being "politically correct" in consecrated life today. So has making decisions that are only temporarily satis-factory, and may be disastrous in the long run. In both these cases, the problematic root is "political correct" words and deeds or superiors' spui'ious "popularity." Prophecy and Diplomacy Do Not Sit Well Together But is conscious evading or circumventing of deci-sions morally correct? Is it the way to be prophetic? Time and again one hears it said: "Well, this is the way things have turned out in consecrated life today, and so what can we do?" "This is the way even most of the bish-ops act, and so what is wrong if our own religious supe-riors do the same?" Unfortunately, this way of looking at 65.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? 174 1 things seems to ignore the very nature and purpose of consecrated life. From its very origins, one of the char-acteristics of consecrated life has been its prophetic nature. Pope John Paul II in his ~ta consecrata enunciated this point well: There is a prophetic dimension which belongs to the consecrated life as such, resulting from the radical nature of the following of Christ and of the subse-quent dedication to the mission characteristic of the consecrated life. The sign value, which the Second Vatican Council acknowledges in the consecrated life, is expressed in prophetic witness to the primacy which God and the truths of the gospel have in Christian life. (§84) A careful scrutiny of history would show us how, at different moments of decadence in church life, it was consecrated life that raised the church out of decadence through its witnessing, thus giving the church prophetic leadership: In effect, the consecrated life is at the very heart of the church as a decisive element for her mission, since it "manifests the inner nature of the Christian calling" and the striving of the whole church as Bride toward the union with her one Spouse. At the Synod it was stated on several occasions that the consecrated life has not only proved a help and support for the church in the past, but is also a necessary gift for the present and future of the people of God, since it is an inti-mate part of her life, her holiness, and her mission. (~ta consecrata, §3; emphasis in the original) So, to argue that the superiors are only emulating the way things are done by the hierarchical church lead-ership is not correct, for consecrated life has to give the lead to the rest of the church, even regarding pastoral leadership. As the late moral theologian Father Bernard Hiiring often told his students, prophecy and diplomacy (in today's parlance, "politically correctness") do not and Review for Religious cannot sit together comfortably. One has to give way to the other. A good number of contemporary religious superiors fail to make proper decisions because they wish to be "politically correct." Thus they not only betray their own vocation to be prophetic, but they gravely damage the common good of the communities entrusted to them. Besides, if a religious superior is supposed to be a pastor, then he has the bounden duty towards the well being of the members. This duty includes fraternal cor-rection. If members go astray and deviate from the group's charism, it is the duty of the shepherd (the reli-gious superior) to begin fraternal correction in charity, even if it hurts. The supe-rior owes such correction to the individuals and the group. Their integral well-being as consecrated peo-ple is one of the superior's top priorities. If superiors shirk this difficult role of fraternal correction in order to be "politically cor-rect," they have no right to Consecrated life has to give the lead to the rest of the church, even regarding pastoral leadership. remain in office, because they have failed in their pri-mary duty of working towards the well-being of the con-gregation and the church. Superiors who do not have as their goal the common good of the congregation and the church contribute to their decadence. Instead of swimming against the popular secular currents, they clearly betray the consecrated prophetic life so well explained by Pope John Paul II: In our world, where it often seems that the signs of God's presence have been lost from sight, a convinc-ing prophetic witness on the part of consecrated per- 65.2 2006 Tirimanna ¯ Are Religious Superiors Called to Be "Politically Correct"? sons is increasingly necessary. Consecrated per-sons are being asked to bear wimess everywhere with the boldness of a prophet who is unafraid of risking even his life. (VC §85) Prophetic Leadership Will the majority of superiors in consecrated life con-tinue to allow the secular democratic political trends to be their model in the coming years? Or will they give prophetic leadership to their own communities by acting according to the moral norms of what is right and wrong? Will they act for their own "good" or for the common good of their institutes? The writer is con-vinced that it is high time that religious superiors become more responsible and accountable in their decision mak-ing as animators, and thus allow their consciences, their specific religious charisms, and the common good to be the norms in their decision making. The norm of being "politically correct" should be the last in their list of pri-orities, for they are certainly not to be "politicians" who eagerly seek popularity, as in the secular world. In this way, they not only will arrest the decline in the quality of contemporary consecrated life, but will also be giving prophetic leadership to the church and the world. 176 Review for Religious BRENDAN KNEALE Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious Before Vatican Council II most Catholic priests, eligious, and laypeople had no "identity crisis." We knew who we were, our place seemed well defined, and we had no impending threat of change. Our per-sonal identity and our .social identity were clear and unthreatened, It may, however, be a good thing that after the council we had to take a close look at our identity. Perhaps we ought to question the quality of our earlier identity. Did it show signs of the identity claims that Pharisees made in Christ's time? They and the scribes were quite self-assured groups. Some of us were, too, maybe to the point of blind confidence in our identity. Among religious there was a saying:?'Keep the Rule and the Rule will keep you." It was, we can see now, a dan-gerous motto, even though it assured our identity. St. Paul, who had been a strict Pharisee, came to realize the danger. Brendan Kneale FSC taught for many years at Saint Mary's College of California. Now retired, he lives at De La Salle Institute; 4405 Redwood Road; Napa, California 94558. 65.2 2006 Kneale ¯ Identifying Identity among, Nonclerical Religious What should have happened after Vatican II was a strengthening and sharpening of our identity. Unfortunately, that was not the popular perception of the changes that had been made. Even though changes initiated by the council were intended as clarifications and improvements, we tended to feel, instead, that things were no longer well defined. Shortly after the council, we heard of religious teachers here or there whose dress, teaching, and behavior led students to express surprise that they were religious or even Catholics. After Vatican II, people asked, "Is this the same church?" Some religious and priests asked, "Is mine the same apostolate?" "Is my school or hospital still Catholic?" "Is there any longer a place for the conse-crated life?" After Vatican II many teachers wondered, "Does the syllabus for my catechetical instruction in the classroom truly represent what I believe?" Or "Are all the liturgical innovations good?" And religious asked, "Have laypeople taken over our role?" "Who am I now?" A Definition of Identity It would be refreshing if all who talk about "iden-tity" were really sure what they are talking about. Few people have a clear definition of the term. In various contexts we confuse identity with "self-image" or "per-sonhood" or "character," or perhaps with "individual-ity," "uniqueness," or an adopted "persona." Fortunately, there are careful thinkers available to address the prob-lem of identifying identity. We are told that Erik Erikson, the psychologist who coined the term "identity crisis" (right after Vatican II, significantly), believed that an identity crisis is "the most important conflict human beings encounter." His defi-nition of psychological identity ran as follows: "a sub-jective sense as well as an observable quality of personal Review for Religious sameness and continuity, paired with some belief in the sameness and continuity of some shared world image." Such a definition has the virtue of pointing squarely at both personal and social identity, that is, both private and public. Lexicographers agree that there are two chief emphases in the notion of identity. Etymologically "iden-tity" (from the Latin idem, the same) is, first of all, an enduring and distinctive individuality and, second, a social or relational "belonging." That is, peo-ple are identifiable by their unique and continu-ing sameness (generally indicated by a permanent - name and fixed array of recognizable psychological traits), and they are identifiable by what membership they have within a recognized group. Thus, in answer to "Who are you?" we will give our name to help the questioner to recall our uniqueness, or we will describe (if our uniform does not indicate it) what recognizable place we occupy in a clear social category. Thus we have a private identity and a public identity. Note that the two identities support each other. In fact, an African proverb has it that "I am because we are." A way to gain insight into identity is to contrast it with related ideas. We should try to keep the terminol-ogy clear about what identity is not. It is not "charac-ter," which is "a constellation of enduring motivational and other traits that are manifested in the typical ways that we react to various challenges." Character, then, may be taken as the moral side of one's identity. Nor is identity simply "self." "Self is a unified being which is the source of an idiosyncratic consciousness, the agent We have a.private identity and a public identity. 65.2 2006 Kneale ¯ Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious responsible for the thoughts and actions of an individual to which they are ascribed." Hence self is an abstract or generic term for "personal identity"; it is not the same as the important and complementary "social identity." None of the following words is a synonym for iden, tity. "Individual" is mostly a quantitative term; it is related to the words undivided and indivisible. "Person"~ is, according to Thomas Aquinas, "the individual substance of a rational soul" and does not disappear if one's identity is vague or shifting. "Personality" is something different; it includes the social as well as the more strictly personal. Dictionaries say that personality is the complex of char-acteristics that distinguishes an individual or a group or nation--but especially the totality of an individual's behavioral and emotional characteristics. Identity is at the core of this "complex of characteristics" (which makes the loss of identity a serious matter). "Persona" and "role" derive from drama, from play-acting, and are of co,urse the weakest versions of what we mean by identity. In an extended article in Consecrated Life 24, no. 2 (February 2003), Father Amadeo Cencini has developed the notion of social identity by emphasizing the id.entity which comes from "belonging." He uses that word because, in identifying ourselyes, we often specify the career, occupation, group, race, persuasion, and so forth to which we "belong." Those of us belonging to conse-crated life may identify ourselves as members of a named religious institute and belonging here or there within it. This answer makes our personal identity derivable, to some extent, from that of the larger group. Sometimes our identity is seen as tied to "our roots" within a social group. Suppose, however, that the group to which one iden-tifies oneself.as belonging (say, a religious institute) has itself no clear identity. If that group has an identity that Review for Religious is fuzzy or vague, then one of the two main sources of identity (namely, "belonging") is comproinised. A reli-gious institute could have evolved (perhaps calling the change "refounding the order") into something different from .what it was. Moreover, even the larger church, to which the institute belongs, could itself also change enough to confuse people about its own identity. For example, the church could seem to speak without a clear voice about itself, and an institute of consecrated life could becom~ canonically unsure about whether laypeo-pie are "members." Or it might interpret certain changes (like emphasis on adult education or on political involve-ment) as challenges to its identity as teachers of youth or caretakers of the sick. It could wonder if other forms of social service rather than classroom or hospital work should be what the church asks for. Official Ecclesial Positions Readers will know that since Vatican II the church has taken up the problem of identity officially and for-mally. The Vatican (following special synods of bishops) has published three clarifying documents, one each for the benefit of priests, laypeople, and religious. The doc-ument about religious is called ~ta consecrata (1996) and addresses the nature and identity of consecrated life. In particular, and depending heavily on the work of a pre-vious world synod of bishops, Vita konsecrata devoted its section 57 to the role of sisters and section 60 to broth-ers. These paragraphs include the following excerpts: By virtue of their dedication lived in fullness and in joy, consecrated women are called in a very special way to be signs of God's tender love toward the human race and to be special witnesses to the mystery of the church, virgin, bride, and mother . Certainly the validity of many assertions relating to the position of 181 65.2 2006 Kneale * Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Relig4ous .women in different sectors of society and of the church cannot be denied . Women's new self-awareness helps men to reconsider their way of looking at things, the way they understand themselves, where thE)) place themselves in history and how they interpret it, and the way they organize social, political, economic, reli-gious, and ecclesial life . The consecrated woman . . . can help eliminate certain one-sided perspectives which do not fully rec-ognize her dignity and her specific contribution to the church's life and pastoral and missionary activity. Consecrated women therefore rightly aspire to have their identity, ability, mission, and responsibility more clearly recognized, both in the awareness of the church and in everyday life. The consecrated life by its nature "is neither lay nor clerical" . The "lay consecration" of both men and women constitutes a state which in its profession of the evangelical counsels is complete in itself. for the individual and for the church . . . apart from the sacred ministry. The synod expressed great esteem for the kind. of consecrated life in which r.eligious brothers provide valuable services of various kinds, inside or outside the community, participating in this way in the mission of proclaiming the gospel and bearing witness to it with charity in everyday life. Although [lay institutes] perform many works in common with the lay faithful, [members] do so inso-far as. they are consecrated and thereby express the spirit of total self-giving to Christ and the church, in accordance with ~heir specific charism. The term "brother" suggests a rich spirituality. ¯ Brothers are an effective reminder to religious priests themselves of the fundamental dimension of brother-hood in Christ, to be lived among themselves and with every man and woman, and they proclaim to all the Lord's words: "And you are all brothers" (M(23:8). We might add that, when Father Amadeo Cencini wrote about the problem of identity, he called attention Review for Religious to the important role of an institute's charism--a point also emphasized in Vita consecrata. An obvious way to increase a sense of our belonging (and our identity) is by attachment to the institute's charism (provided that the corporate identity is itself clear). Cencini notes that some individual reli-gious are weakly con-nected to the charism of their institute, or hold divided loyalties, or, on the other hand, immerse themselves within it in a psycho-logically unhealthy way. We can recall in Some individual religious are weak!y connect, ed to the charism of their institute or hold divided loyalties. this connection the recommendations of the classic work The Future of Religious Orders in the U.S.: Transformation and Commitment by Father David Nygren and Sister Miriam Ukeritis. The proper connection to the charism and the best sense of belonging are to be found, says Cencini, by a deepening of one's attachment to the charism in three ways: by way of prayer and spiritual-connection, by ascetically conforming to the lifestyle of the institute's norms, and by real engagement in the common aposto-late. (Perhaps he could have added: study and grasp of the relevant literature.) This last point about "real engagement" raises an acute problem for some conse-crated religious: What identifies us as distinct from our secular associates and coworkers? If one uses a simply functional definition of our state, then the problem is indeed acute. Many of our secular associates, such as Gospel Catholics, practice in accordance with their voca-tions a chastity, obedience, and poverty that are often more difficult than ours. They sometimes show more 65.2 2006 Kneale ¯ Identifying Identity among Nonclerical Religious 184 talent, dedication, and leadership than their religious colleagues. If, however, we consider who we are and do not just look at our function, then we see a.radical dif-ference between us and them. If we are aware what we are in relation to the evangelical counsels and in rela-tion to auxiliary vows, what we are in terms of commu-nity life, what we are in relation to mobility, to the radicality, quality, and scope of our availability and ser-vice, then we should not have a problem. In addition tb ~vhat Cencini writes about an insti-tute's common and received charism, wecould emphasize the desirability of our contributing to the charism in some innovative way. If we could do that, it seems to me, we would increase our sense of belonging, and even of "ownership." Each of us should bring to the charism, by conscious effort, an enrichment that stems from our personal talents, from our studies, and from our auxiliary memberships in professional and religious associations (in relation to which we can see our own identity more clearly). Charism is not static. Individuals enrich the charisms of their communities. The differing charisms of various consecrated reli-gious groups illustrate a principle that helps clarify cor-porate identity, namely, the principle of an institutional subsidarity and "division of labor" within the church. Each institute has its own apostolic charism and thus its own responsibility. It is true that numerous apostolic needs are great and pressing, and occasionally they are overriding, but normally we keep our corporate identity by doing our own apostolic labor, not th

Issue 67.2 of the Review for Religious, 2008. ; Challenges Witnessing Being Disciples Ignatian Exercising QUARTERLY 67.2 2008 Re view for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to liveaccording to charisms, of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paulvl said_, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° Pontifical College Josephinum 7625 North High Street ° Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2008 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib S'(/'D QUARTERLY 67.2 2008 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 134 challenges No Escape from Finitude John Navone SJ reflects about our struggle for human growth, our development with all its limitations, !n relation to our transformation through the risen Christ. Personal and Group Reflection Being Burned by the Fire Mary Joseph Schultz SCC ponders candles and fire and their symbolism in our spiritual life and growth. 114 140 159 witnessing Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley Avis Clendenen explores episodes from the lives of two churchwomen, the 12th-century Benedictine H]ldegard of Bingen and the 19th-century founder of the'Sisters of Mercy, Catherine McAuley, which show the duty and daring needed then and now in leadership that is transforming and transformational. Weavers of God: The Warp and the Weft Jeanne McNulty SFO, OCV, draws upon the art of weaving as an image of effort and pattern in our spiritual life. Review for Religious 165 173 181 being disciples Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment Damian C. Ilodigwe shows how Peter's forthright confession of Jesus as Son of the living God accentuates the importance of personal encounter with the Lord for authentic discipleship. Personal and Group Reflection Seeing with the Eyes of Christ Peter Schineller sJ suggests some practical ways that the imitation of Christ can become our way of seeing, thinking, and acting with the eyes, mind, and hands of Christ. The Celibate Aunt or Uncle: Another Blessed Vocation John J. Fisher OSFS describes the grace and gift of family as not only enriching our vocation as religious but also defining who we are as we minister to our wider, extended family in our various apostolates. Personal and Group Reflection 190 196 ignatian exercising What Is a "First Week Retreat"? David L. Fleming SJ presents a way of understanding the First Week of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, often called "sin week," as a time that is about deepening a relationship with God. Is the Church Ignatius's Fourth-Week Focus? J. Thomas Hamel SJ suggests that the Fourth Week of the Ignatian Exercises, which deals with the appearances of the risen Christ, might take' on a more ecclesial look as a kind of triptych. departments 204 Scripture Scope: The Letters and Theology of Paul 209 Canonical Counsel: The Lacuna Canon 215 Book Reviews lly 67.2 2008 prisms O~ 2 February 1974, Pope Paul VI issued his apostolic exhortation Marialis cul-tus. Following up on the liturgical reforms of Vatican I1, the pope desired to identify clearly the age-old norm for all theological and devo-tional development regarding the place of Mary in our Catholic lives. As the pope wrote, "In the Virgin Mary everything is relative to Christ and dependent upon him. It was with a view to Christ that God the Father from all eternity chose her to be the all-holy Mother and adorned her with gifts of the Spirit granted to no one else" (25). The norm is that Mary is always viewed in her relation to Jesus. Liturgical art, both Eastern and Western, has traditionally portrayed Mary with Jesus in its icons, statues, and paintings. It appears that it is only in the 19th and 20th centuries, espe-cially with the Lourdes and Fatima devotions, that the statues and paintings picture Mary by herself. The famous tilma-image of Our Lady Review for Religious of Guadalupe from the 16th century is not an exception. Mary is a woman wearing the broad band around her waist that signifies her pregnancy. Appropriately, then, our traditional imaging of Mary is always stressing her basic title from the earliest church councils. She is Theotokos--the Greek word meaning "the one who bears God." Mary is the first of the apostles; she is always the one who brings Jesus (God) to whom-ever she goes. From our New Testament account, we know that the event we identify as the Visitation follows immediately upon the Annunciation. Mary brings Jesus to her cousin Elizabeth, who is pregnant with John the Baptist. Mary's place in all our Christian lives remains the same as it was for Elizabeth. She is a woman always on mission. She brings Jesus (God) to us. As a result, she remains for each one of us a model of our own Christian vocation. We all are meant to be like Mary in the light of our baptism in Christ. We too are "theotokoi"--people who bring Christ to whomever we go. We are like Mary, our model. We, too, are always on mission. We bring Christ by our way of speaking and acting or just by our way of being present to others. In every situation of our daily living, we Christians are on mission, bringing Christ to others. David L. Fleming SJ Miss Jean Read, an RfR staff member from 1975 to 1998, died peacefully on 23 February 2008 at the age of 96. Answering the office phone, she was the soul of friendliness and readiness to accommodate people in whatever questions or needs or desires they had. She was a proofreader par excellence. We can have a healthy envy of her and her long and good life. 67.2 2008 JOHN NAVONE challenges No Escape from Finitude Life stories, true life stories, involve a struggle from the start. We have complex relationships to work out with the members of our family. We are marked by our early experiences for the rest of our lives, even though changes occur in the way we perceive events, imagine ourselves, understand others, and choose to act at various stages of our life. As our life goes on, changes become more and more difficult. 1181 Human Authenticity Calls for Struggle People hope to grow in sensitivity and responsiveness to true values, but such growth is not inevitable. There are human failures and mediocrities. Continuous development varies with people's roots, their opportunities, their good fortune, their adroitness in avoiding set-backs. People can come to recognize harmful, John Navone SJ has written for this journal for more than four decades. His address is Via Silvio Spaventa, 4; 50129 Firenze; Italy. Review for Religious dangerous, and misleading satisfactions for what they are and drop them. They can choose not to let discom-fort, pain, and privation obstruct their pursuit of true values. They can discover values they had previously overlooked. They can move beyond mere personal tastes and interests to benevolence and beneficence towards others. They can disdain rationalizations, open them-selves to things as they are, and help themselves and others to become what they should be. This is a matter of creative tension struggling towards personal integration. Various conflicting claims and urgencies divide us. Our human relationships can-not be free of all constraint or ambiguity. Our authentic personal development needs questions and problems no less than answers and solutions. In fact, every answer and solution prepares us for the creative tension of fur-ther questions and problems. We develop when we are steadily oriented toward goals which strain our personal resources and are truly worthwhile. Tension between Desires and Limits We experience a tension between our desires and our limits. Desire, imagination, and inquiry would seem to have no fixed limits; a corollary of the absence of limits would be the absence of any need to choose. We learn from experience which desires are impractical and to be dismissed. False or exaggerated ideals, desires, and plans could lead to negative consequences, and so we deliberate about what actually can be implemented. We settle on a possible course of action and proceed. Such a decision implies the acceptance of limits. As G.K. Chesterton wrote: "Every act of will is an act of self-limitation. To desire action is to desire limitation. In that sense every act is an act of self-sacrifice. When ,I19 67.2 2008 Navone * No Escape from Finitude Christian faith does not believe that the tension between desire and you choose anything, you reject everythingelse . If you become King of England, you give up the post of Beadle in Brompton." Goods chosen imply goods renounced. Our decisions ratify and increase our.limitations. Our commitments imply our acceptance of limitation. Our desires, hopes, dreams, and ideals strain against that limitation, but limits remain even when our desires are fulfilled. Jesus Christ, the paradigm of Christian faith, never sought exemption from limits, decisions, or death. Christian faith is lived in the concrete realities of finitude and resists flight into illusion. With no escape from finitude, it relies on God's will and grace. Our actions are sustained by desire of some kind. We seek to attain something we deem good, straining __ against limits. Changing our-selves or our situation implies an ideal which limits should be resolved by differs from our present reality. eliminating desire. This ideal must have come to terms with lim-its; if not, it would remain an empty dream. Christian faith does not believe that the tension between desire and limits should be resolved by eliminating desire. A contemporary theologian says: "For Buddhism, the supreme perfection is to kill desire. How distant the men of the Bible, even those closest to God, seem from this ideal! The Bible is, on the contrary, filled with the tumult and conflict of every form of desire D.e.sire is essential and ineradicable." 120 Review for Religious The Challenge of Serious Decision Making Often our reluctance to make serious decisions and choices is less a fear of suffering than a secret dread that permits few illusions or certainties about what will fol-low. We share with Hamlet the tendency to indefinite postponement; we might, with Heyst in Joseph Conrad's Victory, choose drift. Even that fails. Heyst elect~ some-thing that is not there to elect: security by withdrawal and passivity. Persons who choose to ignore the demands of their circumstances choose what is itself a form of death. Our very needs become known to us as inner tensions, and the way we strive to fill them requires choice. A good choice relieves the tension. Other needs will become evident later, and other choices can attend to them. If our inner tensions imply our need for new deci-sions, our decisions demand awareness and strength. The lack of such strength makes us pathetic. On the other hand, strength is of no use if we are not aware of alternatives. If decisions are to be fully free and human, all that one knows must come into play, and one's will-ingness to detect self-deception. The Second Vatican Council gives expression to the inner tension within which our decision making takes place: The truth is that the imbalances under which the modern world labors are in line with that more basic imbalance rooted in the heart of man. For in man himself, many elements wres-tle with one another. Thus, on the one hand, as a creature, he experiences his limitations in a multitude of ways. On the other~ he feels him-self to be boundless in his desires and sum-moned to a higher life. Pulled by manifold attractions, he is constantly forced to choose among them and to renounce some. (GS §10) 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No E~cape from Finitude Fear of Insignificance There is a tension at the heart of every human life story, which Ernest Becker describes as the fear of insig-nificance. This tension reflects the human nature at the heart of the life story. As a contemporary author puts it: "Man has a symbolic identity that brings him sharply out of nature. He is a symbolic self, a creature with a name, a life history. He is a creator with a mind that soars out to speculate about atoms and infinity." At the same time, "man is a worm and food for worms." He lives in the tension of his duality. His inner self enjoys freedom of thought, imagination, and the endless reach of symbolism; his body limits, however, determine and bind him. This tension is aggravated by the fact that we are not living among ideal persons in an ideal, world. From the aggra-vation of our basic predicament, we often seek pseudo-solutions to avoid having to face the tragic aspect of life. Rousseau taught the French Revolution that people were good and institutions evil, so reorganize the institutions, and people will be able to be good. He assumed that, by their own unaided efforts, people could create institutions to resolve all their tensions and conflicts. 122 Development within Limits Some lives are more integrated than others; some are more full of conflict. We can search for our own true story only within certain limits of possibility and prob-ability. The recognition and acceptance of these limits is, in fact, the only way to the realization of our true story-- the story most appropriate to our authentic possibilities. Tensions are aggravated when we try to be what we cannot be, when we pretend to be other than we are. They are aggravated at the social level when a political ideology engenders in the masses a passionate hope for a utopia Review for Religious without the means to attain it. Both individuals and societ-ies can miss their true stories through self-deception with regard to their true and limited possibilities. Detachment from self-interest and bias is difficult to achieve. We sense the gap between our possibilities and our actual moral achievements. Awareness of our moral inadequacy cre-ates a tension which we often attempt to resolve through rationalization, a "cover story" that is out of joint with our experience. Guilt, rationalization, and self-deception imply the painful experience of moral finitude in our aspiration toward values and our true possibilities. Creative Crises The personal crises of a life story are often turbu-lent, but they do not necessarily have the disintegrating effect of severe mental illness. The powerful emotions which erupt from a personal crisis can signify a per-sonal liberation from false beliefs and lead to a more productive life'. One can emerge a stronger and better person. Some hardship, suffering, or mental anguish is the lot of everyone. These things are potentially creative; they can help individuals improve the quality of their inner self. Economic prosperity and a good educational system are no guarantee of personal morality, charac-ter, and maturity. People grow by passing through such critical periods as coming of age, getting married, the birth and raising of children, and the advent of bereave-ments, old age, and dying. Frustration, too, may assist personal development, for character and personality are achieved through overcoming difficulties with patience, intelligence, and persistence. Getting all we want when we want it does little towards personal development; it even seems to preclude personal growth. 123 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No Escape from Finitude Some hardship, suffering, or mental anguish is the lot of everyone: The psychiatrist Kazimierz Dabrowski has developed a theory of mental growth through positive disintegra-tion. He holds that, to achieve a thorough integration of the cognitive, moral, social, aesthetic, and other such human functions, one must undergo a disintegration of a previous integration. The positive disintegra-tion of an integration characterized by biologi-cal determinism, automa-tism, rigidity, stereotyping, and a lack or low degree of consciousness is effected by a growing insight into oneself and others and a con-scious and deliberate adoption of other multilevel and multisided understandings. 124 The Correlative Notion of Self and God Our personal history in the use of the word "God" may reflect a maturation process characterized by criti-cal turning points and creative suffering. Inasmuch as our notions of self and God are correlatives, we may uncover something about our own identity by exploring our encounters with the word "God" in our personal crises. If Christ means "he who saves us from a self-centered existence," personal crises may be prerequisites for finding God's true value in our lives. Concentration on self-preservation and self-satisfac-tion, on what appears to keep us from harm, turns love in on itself and blocks it from going out to God and oth-ers. It is good if our personal crises liberate us to live in society with God and neighbor. Never to be free from self-concern about our slightest needs is the condition Review for Religious of alienation from God and neighbor. It is only in our God-given ability to respond to God's self-surrendering love that we can be free to live and love anything other than ourselves. Personal maturation entails suffering in confronting crises in our lives. Carrying our cross daily implies the Christian conviction that, to understand scriptural truth adequately, we need to experience the cross in our lives. Those who can freely lay down their lives for their ide-als and values are persons who have been strengthened by their Master's mission and by their joyful awareness of being loved by him. Such freedom comes from expe-riencing with others a grand participation in God's life of self-giving love. If our notions of the self and God are correlatives, they alert us to the suffering of others, to the reality of their condition, the condition of all those to whom we are related and whom God loves. The Book of Genesis affirms the goodness of the world when it describes God affirming the goodness of it. The compassion that Jesus felt for the afflicted is the compassion of his Father. Not only our notions but also our feelings about the self and God are cor-relative. A reasonable love for oneself betokens a rea-sonable love for others. Its reasonableness includes a profound awareness of the self as gift, as dependent for its existence on the loving generosity of the Giver. Our personal crises should help us to mature in our under-standing of the love which the Giver expresses in his gift of the self and other selves; they remind us that we are not autonomous monads, that our existence and happiness depend on others. Adrian Hastings affirms that cruel people want a cruel God, and cruelty has been a characteristic of human society: the sadism and masochism of the human 6Z2 2008 Navone * No Escape from Finitude race time after time create a face of God as cruel as itself. Old Testament theology could not be unaffected by the cruel divinities all around and the cruelty of the Israelites themselves; still, Hastings believes, the heart-rending struggle of the Old Testament was to show that such was a false face of God, that Yahweh is not mer-ciless but merciful. Our behavior reflects the face of God that we see. What we do or do not do expresses the meaning of our God-talk; our behavior reflects the healthiness or unhealthiness of our vision. 126 The Face of God in Christ Crucified The face of God is revealed in personal crises. Jesus on the cross reveals the compassionate face of God. "Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father" On 4:18). For Christians the cruelty of the cruel cannot express the nature of God; rather, it is the most outra-geous denial of it. A personal face, the face of Jesus, the suffering and crucified Messiah, is the face of the God of love and compassion. This is the reality which the apostolic church communicates in its preaching: "We preach Christ crucified" (1 Co 1:23). Those who die with Christ rise with him; the cross is the security of Christians. The evangelists speak of the cross in considerable detail, for this is the story of Jesus' ministry making available the way to God. To preach the cross is to preach the resurrection; for it is the message of the cross that sets us free: "dead, yet here we are alive" (2 Co 6:9). On the cross the Son of Man recovered our lord-ship in and over creation, through the obedience for which we Were created. The true face of God is revealed in the Crucified; the loving obedience of Christ is for Review for Religious Christians the model of the perfect self. What Christ has done at Calvary creates and shapes our notion of God, the correlative of our notion of the self that is Christ. Calvary reveals a God who serves his creatures with a compassionate, healing, and community-creating love; it is God giving his life for his people in the high priest who is also victim. Calvary expresses the loving servanthood of God in Christ which gives direction to Christian faith and action. The stoW of Jesus is the stoW of God waiting on us: "The blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them" (Mt 11:5). It is the story of a costly, commit-ted, and constant Love that prevails over death. Jesus' life is the parable of God's rule, the embodiment of God's diakonia. Paul appeals to this when he says, "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ" (Ga 6:2). The way of the cross is the way of Christian maturation in a life of theocentric self-transcendence. It is the way to meet personal and social crises, not a way of escaping them. To preach the cross is to , Treach the resurrection. Communion: God's Purpose for Us All The suffering of Calvary transformed the Jewish con-cept of Messiah among the first Christians. At the Last Supper, Jesus waits on his disciples. The servant who waited at table in Jesus' day was the diakonos. Now Jesus, the master, in washing the feet of his disciples, performs the new diaconal deed, the embodiment of agape: "A new {_/27 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No Escape from Finitude 128. commandment I give to you, that you love one another even as I have loved you" (Jn 13:34). "As I have loved you" points to God's kind of love, the love of costly self-giving. The diaconal deed of the Last Supper expresses the saving, community-creating love of service and friend-ship. According to John's Gospel, Jesus thought of his disciples as sharing in his diaconal work of cosmic redemption. "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son" (3:16). "In the world you have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world" (16:33). "He who believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I go to the Father" (14:12). Communion through Self-Expending Love Acts of self-expending love for others, rather than out-of-the-body experiences, are Christians' usual confir-mation of the life after death that the risen Jesus' appear-ances express: "We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brethren" (1 Jn 3:14). Paul relates Christ's love to our Christian belief in life after death: "I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rm 8:38-39). The completion of God's purposes for his entire creation and our individual destiny are indivisible, for our lives occur and develop in community. Our lives are incomplete without a depth of fellowship with God and with others, even though this fellowship is only a fore-taste of our joyful participation in God's glorious life, which is the ultimate object of our Christian hope. Review for Religious The Christian vision of God is incompatible with indifference to injustice and the suffering of others. Its vision is of a trinitarian God whose being is in commu-nity, and whose self-expending love creates community. In the light of this vision, salvation is participation with others in the goodness and beauty of God's self-giving love: "Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much as dawned on us what God has prepared for those who love him" (1 Co 2:9). Life and Death in the Paschal Mystery For Christians the risen Christ is the focal point of a theme common to all religions, the pursuit or convic-tion of the ultimate nature of reality. The resurrection of Christ is the key to meaningful life in a numinous but incomplete world. This awesome and fascinating event~ysterium tremendum et fascinans--is at the heart of the life coming out of death that is shown in love of our brothers and sisters (1 Jn 3:14). It is the key to understanding the fulfillment of our life stories in the perfect community of God's kingdom, and also to understanding the mission of the church in solidarity with all humankind. The community of Christian faith interprets the life story of Jesus Christ as a divine summons to a personal and social transformation that requires prayer, informed conscientiousness, and appropriate action. Paul is the community's spokesman both when he preaches what God has done for us in Jesus Christ and in his recogni-tion that the "old man," the old self, self-centeredness, does not die a sudden death. There is a phenomenol-ogy of both life and death at every level of our con-sciousness. There are incontrovertible signs of physical death, and there are incontrovertible signs of physical 129 67.2 2008 Na~one ¯ No Escape from Finimde life. There are similar signs at the psychic, affective, intellectual, and spiritual levels of our existence which are perhaps not as readily discerned. Many of the names or titles referring to Jesus are metaphors, Tides for the Life-Enhancing Jesus Metaphor is a way of grasping the unknown through the known, of relating our former experience, to our new experience. Our metaphors say a great deal about what we are, or are like, and about what we are becoming. They can express the self and help in telling life stories. They are a clue to our feelings about our relationships and about the Mystery which is their context. Many of the names or rifles referring to Jesus are metaphors. Jesus defines himself in terms of the life-enhancing effect he has on others, an effect which cre-ates a community. To John's disciples he says: "Go back and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, good news is proclaimed to the poor, and happy is the one who does not lose faith in me" (Lk 7:22-23). Jesus is what he does. He is sight for the blind, legs for the lame, purity for lepers, word for the deaf, good news for the poor, and the happiness of the believer. The community of faith manifests the new consciousness that Jesus Christ creates. Jesus' life shows the previous deficiency of individual and communal human existence. People diagnose illness from their awareness of what constitutes good health. Review for Religious Human Transformation through the Risen Christ "Almost twenty centuries have elapsed since the Christ-event took place, and yet no completely satisfy-ing overall explanation of that fact has been proposed," states Joseph Mitros sJ. Theological studies, the sciences, and philosophy have opened new vistas concerning the origin of humankind and its physical and moral state, concerning the problem of evil and liberation from it. These achievements and the data they provide must be evaluated and then integrated into present knowledge before more satisfying answers can be found. There is, however, no doubt among Christians about the risen Christ, the transformation of the apostles, and the community of Christian faith. The apostolic, evangelical, patristic, medieval, modern, and contem-porary theological attempts to explain the Christ-event originate in the reality of Jesus Christ's resurrection. Clement of Alexandria taught that the incarnate Logos illuminates the believer with his own incomparable light. Athanasius and Cyril of Alexandria wrote elo-quently of Christ as the light of the world and as the giver of the Spirit of truth, transforming humankind through enlightenment. There is no single formulation of the .doctrine of the Christ-event in the patristic period. The exemplarist tra-dition describes the effect of the risen Christ primarily as moral regeneration, a redirection of the human mind and heart. The Western liturgical tradition tends to note what Christ's self-giving love has achieved for others. The Eastern liturgies see the event as a rescue and a healing. Christ the victor has enabled us to experience a deliverance from evil, whereas Christ the illuminator explains our entry into a life-giving reality. Humankind has been brought from darkness to light, from blindness 13,1 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No Escape from Finitude to vision, from bondage to freedom, from turmoil to peace, through our participation in Christ's gift of his Holy Spirit, through our divinization (theosis), through our becoming brothers and sisters of Christ and sons and daughters of his Father. The experience of the lex orandi, of communion with the risen Christ in prayer, stimulates theological reflec-tion on his life story throughout the centuries. It bears witness to tile resurrection as God's action on behalf of humankind and as the transformation of humankind in relation to God. Christian Hope Transcends All Images For every doctrine which sees human lives in rela-tion to Jesus Christ's life stow, the elements of divine and human, of once-and-for-allness and human fulfill-ment, are essential. The saving effect of the risen Christ on our life stories is interpreted according to different models of various cultures throughout the centuries. When they clarify how, through the risen Christ, we may live life more fully, they serve God's people well. The community of faith, however, lives in a state of tension, aware of its limitations. It is only on the way to the fullness of life in the kingdom of God. Our present situation feels precarious, and the future kingdom seems remote. There is .tension between the kingdom to be revealed at the end of history and that same kingdom already present in the Christian faith community and in the lives of individuals going through the stages of their own life stories. Christians live in hope. There is a continuity between this hope and the grace-filled pull of God's eternal kingdom. There is, however, an obscurity surrounding this kingdom. The reason, according to Kevin McNamara, Review for Religious is that the object of our hope is none other than God, the question-raising and question-answering Mystery at the heart of all human life. And so any clear and definite idea of our true future can only be provisional. Christians cannot commit themselves absolutely to any blueprint for human happiness. We are always aware that something is missing, that our true hope eludes all human definition and planning. Josef Pieper says this about hope: "What marks the true hope is that [a per-son] holds himself in readiness for a fulfillment which goes beyond every imaginable human postulate." Hope, nevertheless, experiences the goodness and promise of the Mystery encompassing our life stories. Christian hope, defined by the Christ story, is not without some positive knowledge of what the future kingdom will be like. The titles and names of Jesus, the doctrines and models with which the church discusses our diviniza-fion in Christ, are all attempts to express this positive knowledge of and hope for the kingdom of God. Personal and Group Reflection 1. How have I handled the tension between realizing my desires and, by shutting out other possibilities, experiencing my limits? When have I experienced this tension as bringing me closer to Christ? 2. What is my response to the statement: "The face of God is revealed in personal crises" (p. 126)? 3. What name or title for Jes~s is my favorite? Can I explain the meaning of this title? " 67.2 2008 MARY JOSEPH SCHULTZ Being Burned by the Fire 134] l have come to set the earth on fire, and how I .~. wish it were already blazing" (Lk 12:49). Last year my mind and heart were caught up in this Gospel verse from a Sunday liturgy. Some phrase spoken by the homilist hit a nerve in me and inspired me to pon-der the symbolism and the reality of fire. Why do we use a flame to witness to the Eucharistic Presence in our tabernacles? Why are candles and flames frequent symbols of religious life? What is the primal image of fire saying to me today? How might God use me and my community to set the world ablaze? Open to the Fire Though I have never learned the art of creating fire, I know that kin.dling a flame from scratch requires effort, concentration, and patience. It also requires the proper materials. Using a match is so much easier, but how much more satisfying it must be to create a fire Mary Joseph $chultz SCC last wrote for us in our 65.2 (2006) issue. Her address is Assumption College for Sisters; 350 Bernardsville Road; Mendham, New Jersey 07945. Review for Religious using only rudimentary materials, persistent friction, and breath! Long ago Jesus desired to create a spark in me, at the first beckoning to religious life, when I was a child. He chose me, the most rudimentary of kindling, unknown middle child, shy and backward, plain and unassuming, and invited me to leave home and lend myself to the creation of fire. Calling me to join, at fourteen, a small and little-known religious community in a tiny, obscure New Jersey town, he knew his plan. He desired to use me as kindling, if only I would agree. The dry ordinari-ness of my life could actually catch fire more easily, I suppose. I was easily uprooted and picked up, and will-ingly I came. The chafing and friction began at once. Over these forty years, there has been constant rubbing. Isn't that what community life is for, at least in part? The twig with so many rough edges has lent herself to the Divine Hand. Personalities, assignments, self-knowledge, faults, losses, illnesses, disappointments and shattered idols-- all were offered for the kindling, warmed by the Spirit's breath, and the friction came fast, furious, and constant. How else to create a fire? God rarely uses a match! The twigs of my life were all laid bare, bark removed, and the quickening hand chafed a new spark, a blaze to be used for others. The breath of the Spirit has been ever present, gende, and at times unsettling, fanning the spark into flame. Imagine the patience of God! Most times the liv-ing Wind has been imperceptible to the kindling, stir-ring up smoke and covering its source, always keeping the promise of a blaze alive. Persistent breath needs to change direction if one side is unresponsive. The Breath never gives up in its passionate desire for flame. 135 67.2 2008 Scbultz, ¯ Being Burned by the Fire Eventually the Spirit came with greater urgency, the kindling was in just the right place and disposition for the fire to catch. Now the Breeze was more needed than ever to sustain the blaze, as is still the case. Where would I be without the constancy of the Spirit, nourishing, lighting, stoking the flame, and keeping the blaze alive? As I approach a fire I can choose to take one of three gtances: warmth, risk, or consummation, 136 Coming Close: Warmth, Risk, Consummation As I approach a fire I can choose to take one of three stances: warmth, risk, or consummation. Coming close, especially on a winter day, the warmth is delight-ful. It sets me at ease, calms the shivering limbs, and holds out to me a promise of comfort. I drop my burdens and begin to loosen my wraps, undo the scarves with which I am bound up, and settle in near the comforting warmth. The fireplace can be romantic., a rosy glow to melt away harsh realities and frozen relationships . . . the honeymoon of novitiate days and early ministries when all was right with the world. Soon a promise (threat?) of change creeps into the heart. The Spirit Breath is still blowing. The flames lick higher. Should I choose to back off?. Why risk losing comfort? The rosy glow lulls me, even into a trancelike state. It becomes easy to go through the motions of reli-gious life, near the fire but not in it. Content to observe, being warmed and even nourished, I need to take no risks and I am definitely not consumed. Safety is compromised Review for Religious by getting too close to the Fire, too involved. If I get too near I will be burned. And yet It draws me. I come closer, even at times reach out a hand, and I am singed. Fire purifies, but only when I am close enough. Gold is not refined, iron is not melted, food is not cooked, and a wick is not set alight when kept at a safe distance. I am useless unless I allow the Fire to surround me, catch hold and use me, draw me in to consume. For what else am I saving my life? The flames beckon, even mesmerize, as I contemplate them, but I had better be aware of the risks if I choose to draw closer. The Fire is painful. Over the years when times of suffering enveloped me I have rarely realized the close-ness of God. On the contrary, God seemed utterly dis-tant, mere vapor on the horizon. Only in retrospect did I realize that it was God's closeness and my immersion in the Fire that caused the pain. I could not draw close to a Flame without being burned. Risky? Yes! But also so necessary to be a part of the blaze set upon the earth. Being one with the Fire fulfills my purpose in being. Was I not called to be a holocaust? To remain on the periph-ery, insipid and lukewarm, might be safe, but it is surely not productive. Leaving the rosy, romantic glow of the fireplace to jump into the Blaze is what religious life is all about. I need to be enveloped if I am to be of any use. Being Fire Wood that is caught, right in the middle of the fire, takes on the appearance of the fire itself and loses its own identity. The log glows from within. No longer do sparks dance on the edge, no longer is there only risk of being singed, but now the blaze works its magic from the core. It consumes the willing fuel. Fire and fuel can no longer be separated. 67.2 2008 Schultz ¯ Being Burned by the Fire Leaving the rosy, romantic glow of the fireplace to jump into the Blaze is fohat religious life is all about, 138 Fire burns away the dross and purifies only as much as the wood lends itself. If I resist, roll away, fall off the pile back to a safe distance, my comfort zone, I will not be touched. I will save myself, but for what? I might still feel the warmth as I seek to return to the "safety" of my earlier days. But once I risk being part of a conflagra-tion I cannot go back or run away. My already singed self tells the tale. I had caught the light and begun to burn. Now nothing but total consumption can satisfy me. Why pretend otherwise? I have also learned that seasoned wood burns the best. Wood too moist, too green, too full of sap (self) leaves no room for the flame to take hold. It sizzles, spits, and smokes, too little fire to be of much use. I must let myself be alone to dry, to be cured, even to unfeeling brittleness, as the sap is drained from me and I lie lifeless on the ground, forgotten for the time being. The Stoker of the Fire will again pick me up when I am ready, gather me when I can be of most use, when the flames can really do their job. What does it mean to become Fire? To me it means nothing less than being Jesus, the Light of the world. He is the one who called me, the kindling. He lets me lie at times, unused because I am not yet useful., too green and full of the self-sap that deters the flame. I need to be seasoned, over and over again, dried out and left alone. Only when I am ready will he gather me up Review for Rdigious for kindling, hold me close and breathe his Spirit, all the while applying friction where most needed, turn-ing me this way and that, harder and faster for sparks to catch. There is nothing else for me but to become Fire. In this is my purpose, the purpose, I believe, of all religious men and women. Let God throw me into the Fire. Let Jesus take me over, glow in me, radiate warmth and light, and let me be a part of the blaze ignited by Love on earth. Let me be part of something much bigger than myself. In my consummation my life is fulfilled. Unveiled Hide not Your face. Show me Your face. And though that sight Be my death, I shall live indeed. Show me that incandescent, Altogether lovely face, That earth-splitting, Sky-rending, Fire-kindling face. Be my sole desire, Burn bright in me Until I am molten gold Reflecting only You. Teresa Burleson 139 67.2 2008 AVIS CLENDENEN witnessing Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley Do you remember having a Jeremiah experi-ence once a long time ago? You told God "I am only a youth" and God said, "Be not afraid for I am with you" (Jr 1:4-8). Do you remember that first consciousness of being called, when the clay of youth was moist and malleable? A time when you took for granted that the Potter was on your side, shaping you? When you felt that you and your companions were singing the new church into being? In your commu-nity, do you notice treasure dwindling away? In the anxiety and bewilderment of this our time, how desperately do you seek to prevent further loss? In these days, when I find myself among women and men religious to share faith and 140 Avis Clendenen wrote for us in the September-October issue of 1999. She is professor of Religious Studies at Saint Xavier University; 3700 West 103 rd Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Review for Religious community, I sometimes think of recalcitrant clay and a frustrated Potter. I wonder if some have adapted Jeremiah's words from "too young" to "too old": "Ah, Lord God! I am weary from speaking the truth in love. Our best days are behind us. I am too old." And God says: "Do not say, 'I am too old,' for even now to all to whom I send you you will go; be not afraid, for I am with you to deliver you." Jeremiah would understand and empathize with the disillusionment, even terror, of feeling that life is falling apart. The youthful Jeremiah found himself in the stocks in midlife. His view (Jr 20:1-9) provides a window into his soul. Walter Brueggemann reminds us that it is in prayer that this prophet of deep dispute finds sustenance for his life and ministry; he finds sus-tenance, however, only in continued dispute. Can you imagine the dialogue as Jeremiah struggles with the God who called him to his vocation in the first place?2 Was he not the one to whom Yahweh addressed the lovely words of "knowing him before he was formed in the womb, consecrating him, and appointing him prophet to the nations"? The help in destabilizing situ-ations, Brueggemann proposes, is honest conversation that draws God in deep and thick.3 Brueggemann goes on to say: "This is the very God to whom prayers can be reliably made, not a therapeutic God, not a warm fuzzy, not a dear uncle, but God of hosts, God with hard capacities and stern resolves. Jeremiah prays to and trusts this God, because alone he cannot withstand his persecutors and he will not appeal to a God who is kind but helpless.''4 Jeremiah's confinement is the kiln of his becoming. He finds a deep freedom; he finds duty and daring, cour-age for the next challenge. He is the patron prophet of 141 67.2 2008 lendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley 142 The Christian faith itself is built upon anamnesis/ best days ever before us, not behind us. What we know about the ministerial vocation is that it keeps unfolding in unexpected ways, that safety is never forever. We will feel fire in our bones from now till the time, as Rahner says, when the harvest of our earthly life is enfolded into the Incomprehensible Mystery of the One past-all- graspness. Until that day we are still in the world's grasp, striving to discern the Spirit's complicity in the losses we experience and to imagine a new vision from the confines of the stocks. How do we tend the fire when the embers are struggling for air? As people of faith we live in anamnesis: the retrieval of deep memory so powerful that reality being recalled from another time becomes present. The antonym of anamnesis is amnesia, the loss of a large block of inter-related memories. It is a catastrophic and sad reality to lose one's memory. People of the Book and those who treasure the long sweep of religious his-tory experience anam-nesis in their liturgical remembering and in the duty and daring of their vocation. The Christian faith itself is built upon anamnesis: "Let us proclaim the mystery of faith: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again." The lyrics of Marty Haugen's "We Remember" capture the why of our charge not to forget: "We remember how you loved us to your death, and still we celebrate that you are with us here" (GIA, 1980). This remem-bering roots us in a permanently meaningful past, holds us meaningfully in the present, and orients us toward the future whose meaning we are called to both wait Review for Religious for and bring about. Such Catholic remembering effects what it signifies by evoking and provoking what Johann Baptist Metz long ago called "dangerous memories." He said there are memories of earlier experiences that break through the center point of our lives and reveal new and dangerous insights for our present. They subvert our structures of plausibility. They are like dangerous and incalculable visitants from the past.5 Dangerous Memories Only those who have been transformed to some degree can be agents of larger transformations. Transformation usually relies on the ordinary forma-tive episodes of our lives. The Jungian scholar Murray Stein says, "The transforming person is someone who realizes the inherent self to the maximum extent pos-sible and in turn influences others to do the same.''6 Such an individual has the substance and style to inspire and elevate others to a greater moral largesse. Relatively few people desire to attain the social consciousness and do the soul-making inner work that would make them transforming and transformational persons. In describ-ing them Stein says, "Their lives show an extraordinary degree of uniqueness, imagination, and pristine indi-viduality." 7 Like the prophets of old, the 12th-century German Benedictine Abbess Hildegard of Bingen and the 19th-century Irish woman Catherine McAuley were two such transforming and transformational individuals with fire in their bones. Both women were-in their early forties when they took their first steps beyond what was toward what could be. Hildegard, a medieval theologian, visionary, and church reformer, and Catherine, the foundress of the Sisters of Mercy, were both fifty-two years old when 143 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley they faced and decisively overcame obstacles to bring their visions to fruition. Both developed extraordinary skill in conflicts with church authorities, and, interest-ingly, over three hundred letters of each remain. In short, Hildegard and Catherine are dangerous memories whose legacies of duty and daring remind us of our own often untapped potential. Episodes of duty and daring in the lives of these treasured visitants from the past suggest that they can work in weary souls like oxygen on embers. 1441 Portrait of Hildegard of Bingen On the nine hundredth anniversary of Hildegard's birth in 1998, the Hildegard scholar Barbara Newman wrote: Hildegard is the only woman of her age to be accepted as an authoritative voice on Christian doctrine; the first woman who received express permission from a pope to write theological books; the only medieval woman who preached openly before mixed audiences of clergy and laity with full approval of church authority; the author of the first known morality play, and the only 12th-century playwright who is not anonymous; the only composer of her era known both by name and by a large corpus of surviving music; the first scien-tific writer to discuss sexuality and gynecology from a female perspective; and the first saint whose official biography includes a first-person memoir,s Born in the summer of 1098 in Bermersheim, Germany, Hildegard was thrust upon the stage of life at the close of one century and the dawning of the next. The role of wise women, midwives, h~alers, and coun-selors fell under new suspicions. The practice of seeing the divine in all things was eroding. It was an epoch of spiritual fervor amid the growing corruption of a Review for Religious church bent on the Crusades, which led "poor and frail" women, like Hildegard, to rise up and challenge the clergy to reform. Hildegard wrote prolifically between the ages of forty-two and eighty-one. In addition to two major works on medicine and natural science, Hildegard completed a trilogy of theological works: the multimedia illuminated manuscript for which she is most famous, Scivias (abbreviated from the Latin for Know the Lord's Ways), The Book of Life's Merits, and The Book of Divine Works. She composed seventy-seven liturgical songs and wrote them down in the Symphonia: The Symphony of the ¯ Harmony of Celestial Revelations. Fifty of her homilies are extant. The historian Gerda Lerner says, "The life of Hildegard of Bingen exemplifies the breakthrough of a female genius who managed to create an entirely new role for herself and other women without ostensi-bly violating the patriarchal confines within which she functioned.''9 Hildegard thrived at a time of political and religious tumult not vastly different from our own. "Her sheer force of will," Newman says, "combined with a dazzling array of spiritual and intellectual gifts, a courage hardened by decades of struggle, and a pro-phetic persona, which she displayed in season and out, made her a formidable opponent; and she did not take defeat easily.''~° This could equally be said of Catherine McAuley. Portrait of Catherine McAuley The life and vision of Catherine McAuley, seven [ centuries after Hildegard, provide another deep story 14~ of a woman whose spiritual and intellectual gifts, cour-age hardened by struggle, and prophetic persona made her a formidable opponent; like Hildegard, Catherine 67.2 2008 Clendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine M~uley Hildegard thrivedat a time of political and religious tumult not vastly differen~ ~om our own. did not take defeat easily. From her childhood to her middle years, she knew what it was like to be forced to the edges of her culture and to experience the prejudice of being Irish and Catholic in an age of intolerance. ~t Catherine's efforts to accomplish something lasting have their roots in the faith and courage with which she faced hardship. She reflected often upon adversity as key to her theology of the cross, the central sym-bol of Christianit~,. Over her lifetime she experienced many losses: her father's death when she was five, their fami-ly's descent into poverty, and her mother's death in 1798, when Catherine was twenty. In 1827 she buried her sister Mary, mother of five children. She cared for her sister's children and outlived some of her beloved nieces and nephews. Inheriting in 1827 the for-tune of a couple she had lived with for twenty years-- and driven by her deep faith, her sense of Christian duty, and her compassion--she built in Dublin the first House of Mercy. Her selection of a site on Baggot Street, in one of the wealthiest and most exclusive sections of Dublin, flouted the as yet unrevoked late-17th-century penal code that prohibited erecting a Catholic building on a main thoroughfare of Irish cities and towns. This proved to be the first step toward the founda-tion, in 1831, of the Sisters of Mercy, many of whom would die from the cholera and typhus that plagued Ireland in those early years. Two letters to her younger, Review for Religious most trusted colleague Frances Xavier Warde provide a window into Catherine McAuley's spirituality of the cross¯ In 1840, after the death of two young novices while a new foundation was being proposed, Catherine wrote, "I suppose all will go on well to shew us that what we think a drawback will be followed by greater progress. If they should have a new foundation--it will not be without the cross.''12 In 1841, offering words of encouragement as Sister Frances faced a challenge to her religious leadership, Catherine reflected: I know it is an affliction to you--but rest assured, God will send some. distinguished consolation¯ This is your life, joys and sorrows mingled, one succeed-ing the other. Let us not think of the means [God] has employed to convey to us a portion of the Holy Cross, being ever mindful that it came from Himself¯ ¯. Far better and more profitable for you to receive with all your heart the cross which God will send you in any form or shape He pleases. I earnestly hope you will receive this trial so as to render it valuable to you.13 Catherine's Decision for George's Hill Catherine McAuley was in her forties when she experienced a defining moment in realizing her vision. The novelty of an intentional community of lay women without religious vows and enclosure brought such neg-ative attention that "the criticism threatened to discour-age young women from joining Catherine's endeavors and thus to undermine the very stability of the works of mercy to which she was committed, including visita-tion of the sick poor in their homes and hospitals.''~4 Catherine began "a long deliberation" on how to pro-ceed. On 8 September 1830 she, Anna Marie Doyle, and Elizabeth Harley entered the Presentation Sisters' con- 147 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley vent on George's Hill to serve the canonically required novitiate year before professing religious vows on 12 December 1831 as the first Sisters of Mercy.~5 These fifteen months away from Baggot Street were a pain-ful challenge for the fifty-two-year-old Miss McAuley. She spent the time surrounded by novices more than thirty years her junior. During the last seven months of her novitiate, a very strict mistress of novices made the duties of the time quite burdensome for Catherine. A letter from Mary Clare Moore to Mary Clare Augustine Moore describes the time: Catherine "often said it was so hard a struggle for her to remain [at George's Hill] on account of meeting there many things repugnant to her feelings that had she not the establishment of the Institute most deeply at heart she would (that very e~ce-ning) have sent for a coach to take her back to Baggot Street.''~6 This is a prime example of Catherine's sense of duty reshaping her earlier inclination to dare founding an unenclosed religious congregation. One can imagine how difficult the months of enclosure and silence must have been for a mature woman of such burning vision and apostolic zeal. Centuries earlier Hildegard had a different diffi-cult experience, but one that produced similar daring results. 148] Hildegard's Self-Awakening Following the custom of noble families, Hildegard's parents tithed their tenth child, Hildegard, as a tribute to the Lord when she was eight years old. She pro-fessed her religious vows as a Benedictine nun at the age of fifteen or sixteen. During these formative years, she watched as the original 7th-century Disibodenberg site was reconstructed into a small 12th-century Review for Religious German medieval city. It is interesting to speculate that Hildegard's own desire to found an independent monastery, which she eventually did, had its roots in a mind alert to all the construction going on around her. The physical buildings may have suggested to her young imagination the idea of being a spiritual architect. An unusual child, Hildegard confided in her mentor Jutta: "When I was three years old, I saw an immense light that shook my soul; but, because of my youth, I could not externalize it.m7 This light within her soul she would eventually name the umbra viventis lucis: a spiri-tual gleam or hint of the Living Light, appearing day or night, in full consciousness, and in multicolor brilliance accompanied by a "hearing in the soul." Hildegard, fear-ful of what others would think and what sanctions might be imposed upon her, remained silent with respect to the theological content of her visionary life. This silence and its consequent physical debilitation enfolded itself in Hildegard's daily existence. In 1136, when she was elected abbess, she received a new scope of authority. It was not uncommon for the abbess to be the magis-trate over dual monasteries of both monks and nuns. The authority of medieval abbesses included leaving the enclosure and entering into council with other abbesses. The abbess held spiritual power to bless, proclaim the gospel, instruct, lead Eucharistic processions, and hear the confessions of her nuns. Such powers exercised in Hildegard's time were forbidden a century later and have never again been held by women religious, even to the present day.18 At the age of forty-three, Hildegard finally broke silence on the content of her inner visions. She was "instructed" by the Living Light "to put her hand to writing" and "release the power and mystery of hidden 149 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and DaHng in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley A~ the age of forty-three, Hildegard finally b~oke silence on the content of her inner visions~ and marvelous visions." For the next thirty-eight years, she put her talents and spiritual gifts into both writing and public speaking. An official church commission went to Disibodenberg to examine her partially completed Scivias. The examiners took their findings to the Synod of Trier, where the well-respected Bernard of Clairvaux read portions of the Scivias aloud to the assembled bishops. Bernard urged the pope "not to allow such a brilliant light to be covered by silence, but rather to confirm this charism through his authority.''19 Pope Eugenius III gave Hildegard apostolic license to continue and told her to complete her "divinely inspired" work. (When completed, the Scivias was an illuminated manuscript of twenty-six visions with theological commentary address-ing an array of Christian doctrine.) Such ecclesiastical encouragement freed Hildegard to go forward into an unprecedented future. lyO Duty and Daring Both Hildegard of Bingen and Catherine McAuley successfully negotiated life at the crossroads. Living life on life's terms presents people with challenges to choose well and manage change. Hildegard and Catherine are models of midlife women who took themselves seri-ously as gifted gospel women and resisted the temp-tation toward being insubstantial, toward settling for less instead of more. Hildegard mustered the courage Review for Religious to break from her self-imposed and culturally enforced silence. On the other hand, Catherine chose to embrace the silence of enclosure at George's Hill and the confin-ing duties of the canonically required novitiate so that her vision might find acceptance. Each in her forties possessed an inheritance. Hildegard's was an internal, visionary, prophetic giftedness, and Catherine's was the material gift of £25,000 (a million dollars in today's currency) coupled with her social vision to make a dif-ference for the poor. Their midlife transition brought them to greater vistas of generativity. The poet Rainer Maria Rilke captures this moment when he writes: I love the dark hours of my being in which my senses drop into the deep. I have found in them, as in old letters, my private life, that is already lived through, and become wide and powerful now, like legends. Then I know that there is room in me for a second huge and timeless life.2° Both Hildegard and Catherine consistendy, albeit pain-fully, found within themselves a duty and daring in the daily struggle for what mattered most. Their stories help us do the same. They are dangerous memories. Hildegard's Decision to Leave Disibodenberg Hildegard experienced a vision calling her to leave Disibodenberg and establish her own independent mon-astery. The abbot dismissed the possibility of such an undertaking. Hildegard, in a pattern that marked her life, was stricken with a severe malady. She was filled with energy when she was advancing her outer and inner work and experienced terribly depleting episodes when she was impeded in what she believed to be God's will. Eventually the abbot came to see that the paralysis that 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley turned Hildegard's body stonelike was the result of his interference with God's will. He reluctantly conceded, granting his permission for her to proceed. After her move to Rupertsberg in 1150--an excep-tional action for one who described herself as "timid and lacking boldness"--Hildegard made arrangements to acquire complete canonical and legal separation from the monks at Disibodenberg. She wanted to choose the monks who would provide spiritual care for the nuns at Rupertsberg, to keep the dowries from the families of women who joined the order, to call the free election of superiors, to hold the deed to the property, and to be accountable solely to the archbishop of Mainz. She insisted that this (secret) arrangement be put in writ-ing, and she received it from the archbishop and from Frederick Barbarossa, king and emperor of Germany. Hildegard's memory of Disibodenberg's physical recon-struction now took wings. She supervised the erection of a 12th-century monastery with indoor plumbing, a complete sewage system, and a hospice for the sick and dying. The community grew from twenty to fifty nuns. While busy with preaching tours (begun at sixty), managing affairs at Rupertsberg, giving pastoral care to her nuns and others who requested it, writing The Book of Divine Works, and maintaining an active correspon-dence amid secular and religious tumult, Hildegard, fif-teen years after founding Rupertsberg, decided to found another congregation at Eibingen. With thirty nuns she set out down the east bank of the Rhine and established it on a site overlooking Rudesheim and across the river from Bingen. Hildegard kept living at Rupertsberg but traveled twice weekly to Eibingen until her death on 17 September 1179 at the age of eighty-one. Review for Religious Catherine McAuley and the Chaplaincy Crisis The McAuley scholar Sister Mary Sullivan writes, "In the six years since its founding in Dublin on 12 December 1831, the Institute of the Sisters of Mercy had merited episcopal approval and support . But the last months of 1837 were a very painful period in Catherine's life for one specific reason: in September a deep conflict arose between her and Dr. Walter Meyler, parish priest of St. Andrew's Church, over his unwilling-ness to assign a regular chaplain to serve the sacramen-tal needs of the homeless women and girls sheltered in the House of Mercy on Baggot Street"21--a situa-tion similar to Hildegard's centuries before. Catherine thought the continuity of pastoral care very important for both the Sisters of Mercy and the residents of the House of Mercy. "By depriving the House of Mercy a chaplain," says Sullivan, "Walter Meyler had, in effect, removed the possibility of daily, and even Sunday, Mass at Baggot Street. This meant that the forty or more servant women and girls living there had to go out to a parish church on Sundays, with the consequent free-dom to dally in the city and delay their return to the House--the very shelter created to protect them from the sexual and other dangers lying in wait for them on the streets.''22 Catherine wrote to Sister Mary de Pazzi Delaney, "My dearest Sister Mary, will you relieve me from the distressing business about the chaplain? It is constantly before me, and makes me dread going home. I know it is not possible for me to have any more argument with Dr. Meyler without extreme agitation . Do get me through this--don't be afraid.''23 Catherine's cor-respondence with Dr. Andrew Fitzgerald OP notes his seven-word summation of the controversy: "a wanton 67.2 2008 Clendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine Mc~luley unwarranted abuse of church authority.''24 Catherine wrote to Michael Blake, bishop of Dromore, who sup-ported her rationale for "one individual clergyman" as chaplain to the house and encouraged her to submit her case again. In doing so (to the Rev. John Hamilton), Catherine quoted from a letter she had sent to Dr. Meyler: We were happily at home today in time for all our dif-ferent duties., but our poor young women are still about the streets, taking advantage, to be sure, of the irregularity which has been introduced among them. I will make one more effort., to prevail on the Sisters to accompany me to their Bishop . We will shew what is lost by the change that has been made . This sad alteration in our once orderly establishment cannot fail to excite pity in a mind like his. At eight o'clock on Sunday evening, a letter was handed me from Doctor Meyler. It began thus: "When is your procession to take place? I should like to see the theatrical exhibition--the Bishop must be apprised--perhaps you may not admire the reception you will meet, for he is too straight forward a person to be caught by your Juggle." I read no more and put it out of my power ever to do so by burning the letter. I must now be done with the matter entirely. I will attempt nothing more.25 In a private letter to Frances Xavier Warde in January 1838 about the situation, Catherine said, "It is humiliating no doubt, a smart attack on self-importance, and if this part of it is well managed, it must turn to good account.''26 A few months later Catherine reported to Frances, "Our Mass is celebrated very regularly every day, and the confessions pretty well attended to--but I never feel reconciled to it . Pray fervendy to God to take all bitterness from me. I can scarcely think of what has been done to me without resentment.''27 Review for Religious Crises and Character The substance and style of Hildegard's leadership in moving her community from Disibodenberg and establishing the foundation at Rupertsberg, and the per-sonal cost and art-istry of Catherine's moving through the chaplaincy cri-sis, suggest some-thing important that has a bearing on leadership that would be trans-formational. They had the capacity for liminality and pos-sessed a prophetic passion. The term liminality is taken from the Latin limen, meaning threshold. Angela Bolster RSM defines limin-ality as "all about risk., a countercultural movement on the frontier, opening up new horizons, indicat-ing new possibilities . . . fueled by a new vision of the future.''28 Those on the limen, at the edge of new fron-tiers, can live in ambiguity and perceive opportunity. Like Jeremiah, they learn to bear disquietude and use agitation and anguish as kindling for the flame of zeal. Hildegard broke silence when she could no longer hold in the content of her visions. Catherine's daring social vision took her more than once to the edge of con-frontation with church authority. Their sense of duty provoked in them an adaptability that deepened them as churchwomen and staved off the bitterness, alienation, and cynicism people feel under the weight of perceived Catherine's daring social vision took her more than once to the edge of confrontation with church authority. 67.2 2008 lendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley injustice. It is especially poignant when the injustice is meted out at the hands of the church. It is easy to imag-ine each of these liminal women pr~ying with Jeremiah 20:7-9: You have seduced me, Yahweh, and I have let myself be seduced; you have overpowered me: you were the stronger. I am a daily laughingstock, everybody's butt. . . . The word of Yahweh has meant for me insult, derision, all day !ong. I used to say, "I will not think about him, I will not speak in his name any more." Then there seemed to be a fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones. The effort to restrain it wearied me, I could not do it. Both women's large-mindedness enabled them to sus-tain the distress of the life that wanted to live in and through them and, at the same time, animate others to help them realize the possibilities they perceived were of God and worth the cost. The liminal among us often dwell at the edges of society where the anawim of God live. Transforming and transformational leaders find a home among the homeless, in fact and in faith. They bear God's pro-phetic pathos as their own. They bear the cross where they find it, whether in the medieval crusades, the Irish penal laws, or the current building of walls at U.S. bor-ders. The prophetic personality struggles and stumbles but never succumbs to despair because the umbra viven-tis lucis--the gleam of the Living Light--stirs the soul of those who artfully integrate duty with daring and daring with duty. Such transformational persons are of biblical proportions, vessels of Holy Wisdom in every generation (Ws 7:21-28). The 12th-century German Benedictine Abbess Hildegard of Bingen and the 19th-century Irish Mother Catherine McAuley are two such liminal, passionate, and prophetic women. They wit- Review for Religious ness to other courageous lives lived within the difficult confines of changing eras and changing destinies. Their dangerous memories get into the marrow of our bones. Theirs is an irreducible legacy given to us. Their names are anamnetic and, when they come among us today, they are an oasis in the midst of wilderness wandering, bearing witness to the possible future always before us, especially in times like ours. Notes ' Attributed to an insight from Sister Doris Gottemoeller RSM, senior vice president, Mission and Values Integration, Catholic Healthcare Partners, Cincinnati, Ohio. 2 Walter Brueggemann, Inscribing the Text: Sermons and Prayers, ed. Anna Carter Florence (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2004), p. 156. 3 Brueggemann, Inscribing, p. 157. 4 Brueggemann, Inscribing, p. 159. s Johann Baptist Metz, "The Future in the Memory of Suffering," Concilium 76 (1972), p. 15. 6 Murray Stein, Transformation (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1998), p. xxiv. 7 Stein, Transformation, pp. 146-148. 8 Barbara Newman, ed., Voice of the Living Light: Hildegard of Bingen and her World (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), p. 1. 9 Gerda Lerner, The Creation of Feminist Consciousness (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998), p. 52. ,0 Hildegard of Bingen, Scivias, trans. Mother Columba Hart and Jane Bishop (New York: Paulist Press, 1990), p. 15. n See Angela Bolster RSM, Venerable Catherine McAuley: Liminalfor Mercy (Cork, Ireland: Sisters of Mercy, 1998). ,2 The Correspondence of Catherine McAuley, 1818-1841, ed. Mary C. Sullivan (Baltimore: Catholi~ University of America Press, 2004), p. 316. 13 McAuley, Correspondence, pp. 400-401. ,4McAuley, Correspondence, p. 33. ,s McAuley, Correspondence, p. 34. ,6 Mary C. Sullivan, Catherine McAuley ~nd the Tradition of Mercy [IY7 6Z2 2008 lendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine Mc~uley (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1995), p. 93. 17 Carolyn Sur, The Feminist Images of God in the Visions of Saint Hildegard ofBingen's "Scivias" (New York: Mellen Press, 1993), p. 26. ~s Margaret Wade Labarge, A Small Sound of the Trumpet: Women in Medieval Life (London: Hamish Hamilton Paperback, 1986), pp. 33, I01. ~9 Renate Craine, Hildegard: Prophet of the Cosmic Christ (New York: Crossroad, 1997), p. 26. 20 Rainer Maria Rilke, I Am Tob Alone in the World: Ten Poems, trans. Robert Bly (New York: Silver Hands Press, 1981), p. 4. 21 McAuley, Correspondence, p. 94. 22 McAuley, Correspondence, 2~ McAuley, Correspondence, 24 McAuley, Correspondence, 2s McAuley, Correspondence, 26 McAuley, Correspondence, 27 McAuley, Correspondence, see footnote 83, p. 112. pp. 96-97. p. 103. pp. 112-113. p. 119. p. 144. Time Dive Plunge into the.flow of time Ride the current moment Swirl awhile 'round bubbling eddies Bob lithely on sun glistened ripples Cascade over rapid rocky rills Float out into embracing arms of open sea Then soar aloft to clouds above And gently freefall Rain Drop in the river of time. Walter Bunofsky SVD Review for Religious JEANNE MCNULTY Weavers of God: The Warp and the Weft A nY artisan of handwoven fabric knows this: If the vertical threads (the warp) are weak and under uneven tension on the loom, no matter how the horizontal threads (the weft) are woven, the resulting cloth will be a puckered, slapdash mess. "Called to weave a new spirituality that generates hope and life for all humanity" was the theme of the plenary session of superiors general of women religious held in Rome in May 2007. The question was asked: "What thread are we religious, responsible for our con-gregations, called to weave in this moment in order to become prophetic and mystic 'weavers of God'?" Weaving has been a feminine image for centuries, and cave paintings document the existence of tapestry weaving as long ago as 3000 B.C. Handloom weaving flourished in the 1700s. Nowadays a few of us, mosdy women, but some men too, still send shuttles flying Jean McNulty SFO, OCV, a secular Franciscan and a consecrated virgin (see canon 604), wrote for us in 1997; she lives a semi-eremidc life. claire@wvadventures.net 67.2 2008 McNulty ¯ Weavers of God across warps and are delighted to see new designs pop up on the fabric or web before our eyes. Those who have persevered in the art can draw many analogies between our craft and the loom of our spiritual life. Everyone's vocation or lifestyle needs some structure. Without a plan, purpose, or focus, days and years may be frittered away. On a loom the "castle" is the outer encasement. Within the castle there are "harnesses," usually between two to eight of them. These are frame-like rectangles that hold the "heddles." The heddles are slender metal rods each containing a needle eye in the center. These are threaded in various sequences according to a pur-posed design. Below the heddles and harnesses, close to the floor, are the "treadles," which are attached to the harnesses in a specific arrangement. When the treadles are pedaled or tromped, the harnesses are raised and the "shuttle" (a little boat-like device that holds the bob-bin with the weft thread) flies over and under the warp threads. The interlacing threads form the pattern that begins appearing on the newly created fabric. Almost an infinity of designs can'be produced, and a great mul-tiplicity of shades and hues are made manifest as the various colored threads cross over and under each other on the web. Many designs were developed by those who have gone on before us. Others are waiting to be dis-covered. The threads on the loom can be compared to all the people that cross our paths in life and help us to become the persons we are. This interlacing of our lives with theirs helps develop the finished pattern on the web of life. On the loom there is a front and back beam. In the weaving that I do, the vertical threads are initially tied Review for Religious to the back beam, the farthest away from the weaver, and then threaded through the heddles toward the front of the loom and then through the "beater." This is a long rectangular device containing a reed with short thin metal rods. It can be expanded at least to the width of the warp. The reed keeps the threads from getting tan-gled .and also helps create the density of the fabric. The beater "beats" the weft threads into an even line across the warp, which is tied on to the front of the loom. The aim is to get all the warp threads through the castle and then though the reeds in the right sequence and then tied with even tension to the front cloth beam. This takes time and patience, and it does no good to try and expedite the process. An experi-enced weaver knows not to hurry because, if a thread is put through the heddles or beater in the wrong sequence, the whole pattern or design is flawed. It often means going back to square one with the threading. So it is better to do it right the first time and save hours of unnecessary labor. An analogy to the spiritual life is easy to see. Just as buildings need a firm foun-dation, so a weaver of a tapestry (or of the fabric of her life) should humbly spend the time and energy to thread her loom with order and precision. She should begin by looking to the future with humble and atten-tive prayer. Occasionally, despite very careful planning and execution, a warp thread will break in the middle of a weaving project. It will take a special knot with a piece of new thread in even tension with the others to fix it. experienced weaver knows not to hurry. 161 67.2 2008 McNulty ¯ Weavers of God This requires added time and effort, as it does in the spiritual realm when our sins and flaws require repen-tance, confession, forgiveness, fixing--the knot and thread renewing togetherness and integrity. In the repertoire of weaving designs, there are warp-faced patterns and weft-faced ones. This means that, in any piece of cloth, what meets the eye is either the pattern of the weft threads or the pattern of the warp. In traditional Navajo weaving, for example, the weft completely covers and hides the warp. It is considered a real flaw for a warp thread to be seen, and so the weft is always beaten tighdy into place. The contemplative life can easily be compared to the warp in Navaio weaving. It is so totally obscure. It is, however, the framework for the entire fabric. The warp threads have to be very strong to take the intense beat-ing and packing of the weft threads that will show on the sur- The contemplative life face. Strenuous active lives and ministries can easily be compared to can beat people down the warp in Navajo weaving, in their endeavors to make the world bet-ter. These endeavors, these activities, are what people see and value, but, if they are not sup-ported by the strong threads of contemplative union with God, they will not produce the desired beautiful patterns. Pope Benedict encouraged religious to "weave 62 the living fabric of a useful service to the church., yet always maintaining solid interior relations with Christ. In fact, only from this union with God can that 'pro-phetic' role of your mission flow and be nourished." Review for Religious He added: "Never yield, therefore, to the temptation to distance yourself from intimacy with your Heavenly Spouse by allowing yourselves to be overly attracted by the interests and problems of daily life." Our Holy Father encouraged religious to cultivate the mystical dimension of consecrated life, keeping united to God through contemplation. He said: "The authentic prophet, therefore, is not concerned so much to accomplish works, which undoubtedly are important but never essential. Above all, he tries to be a witness of God's love, seeking to live it among the realities of the world, even if his presence can sometimes be 'uncom-fortable' because he offers and incarnates alternative values." !n creating a piece of material on the loom, once the warp threads are threaded through the heddles and tied on to the back warp beam and the front cloth beam, and once the weaving has commenced, the warp threads can-not be changed without dismantling. It is different with the weft threads. In the active life we can change our occupations, put different yarns and a different picture on the loom of our existence, but always underneath there has to be the contemplative warp to hold things together. What is essential is our vertical and horizontal union with Jesus. If the love relationship is there and he decides to change the design, it can hurt, but it is not devastating because the contemplative warp is strong. There are times in life when the weft patterns seem to coalesce. Everything works out well, and we have a lot of good "yardage" to show, but then can come years when no matter what we do all seems insignificant. The Lord appears to be asleep in the boat, our litde shuttle, and we feel tossed about in darkness. In the obscurity of the night, we become mystic weavers who feel at odds 67.2 2008 McNulty .,Weavers of God with the surface of our life. We cannot see what is going on, but we hope and trust that something special and beautiful is happening in the context of our life. When I have thrown the shuttle for the last time on a long-woven piece of cloth, the moment has arrived to see the web completely finished. I take the scissors and cut each warp thread. I draw the material forward and fan-fold it on the bench in front of me. A passage from the Book of Isaiah comes to mind: "You have folded up my life, like a weaver who severs the last thread" (Is 38:12). We know this moment will arrive, the one when the Master Weaver severs our web from the loom of our earthly life and surveys the finished product. Then we hope that he will delight in the display of designs and intertwining coloi's. In this moment all of us are unique and original. No other person will have the same patterns, the same gifts to display in the king-dom of our God and before our sisters and brothers. Hopefully, our lives will have been prophetic examples of the gospel message, and we too will hear the words the Father spoke over Jesus at the river Jordan: "You are my beloved child. On you my favor rests" (Mk 1:11). Review for Religious DAMIAN C. ILODIGWE Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment Getting to know people is a process. It can be long and complicated, involving several phases that result in increasing knowledge of them. Yet the process can hardly begin effec-tively unless we are prepared to discover who the individual persons are and do not approach them merely in terms of what we think or what others say about them. To be sure, what we think or what others say is important and should not be ignored, but this is not enough if our concern is to know them personally and intimately. For this we need a firsthand experi-ence that gives them the opportunity to reveal themselves to us. Consider what happens when we meet peo-ple. It takes only a while before they begin to Damian C. Ilodigwe wrote on the Magnificat in our 66.3 (2007) issue. He is a priest and lecturer in philoso-phy at Ss. Peter and Paul Major Seminary; P.M.B. 5171; Secretariat P.O.; Ibadan, Nigeria. dammychuks2000@ yahoo.tom being disciples 67.2 2008 Ilodigwe ¯ Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment 166 reveal themselves to us in various ways. If we really want to get to know them, such rrioments are precious. We pause and listen to what they have to say. By so doing we might begin to penetrate the mystery that underlies their personality. Such attention involves a certain pas-sivity in the face of their self-disclosure. Indeed, this moment of self-disclosure must guide our subsequent effort to learn who they really are. The process would be skewed if we imposed some prejudice of ours on them before they had the benefit of self-disclosure. Difficult and complex though it is to get to know other people, the reward can be great even after only a little success, and the success is bound to grow the more we try. We become more comfortable in their presence, and with this at-homeness we are able to trust them and perhaps even depend on them. We grow in our appreciation of their worth, and this leads to a much better relationship. Before we realize it, the friendship becomes intimate and personal. We need such a friend-ship with Jesus. Peter's Significant Breakthrough Like all who are called to be Jesus' disciples, the apostles had to get to know Jesus. They were specially chosen by him and destined to play an important role in his mission, but that does not mean it was easy for them to get to know him. Having been with him for some time and having seen the deep impression he made on people, they held him in high esteem. They knew how much people appreciated his words and presence. They were familiar with what people thought about him (see Mk 8:27-29). Yet this did not mean they really knew him. Their knowledge of him, like that of people he healed, was at best superficial. They knew he was the Reviem for Religious son of Joseph and Mary, but it is not evident that they penetrated the mystery of his divine personality (see Jn 5:1-18). If they were to be his ambassadors, it was crucial that their knowledge of him was not superficial, limited to a few details of his parents, his hometown, and so forth. It was impor tant that they knew and understood him for who he really is. Their coming to know him was a long process indeed, which was not over until, after his resur-rection, they received the Holy Spirit (see Lk 24:13-35). Nonetheless, the event at Caesarea Philippi offered a preliminary advancement of their knowledge of Jesus. Jesus brought up for discussion the topic of his identity (Mk 8:27-38, Mt 16:13-20). It was almost like any con-versation in which we seek feedback from others about a particular issue. He began by asking them who people said he was. That was not a difficult question, for the disciples only needed to be steeped in current affairs to answer it, and they were not wanting in this regard. They mentioned the various perspectives that people had: "John the Baptist; and others say, Elijah; and others, one of the prophets." The answer touched the reality of Jesus' per-sonality, but still was superficial. Jesus did not evaluate their answer; he simply asked another question, a more personal one: "But you, who do you say I am?" This sort of question upsets people. It certainly upset them. It took them from the nonpersonal to the personal. It Jesus brought up for discussion the topic of his identity. 167 67.2 2008 Ilodigwe ¯ Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment had implications regarding their allegiance and commit-ment. The burden of responsibility became enormous. In such circumstances we usually censor what we say. We say only what we mean to say and what we have evidence for. We can imagine the disciples considering their words carefully. Indeed, it would not be surprising to discover that there was a long silence before an answer came. As usual, it was Peter who took the lead, saying: "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." We can almost imagine that Jesus was surprised, a pleasant surprise, for Jesus' true identity was and is always a kind of secret. People focused (and still do) on accidents of Jesus' birth and circumstances, as happened when he preached in Capernaum (Lk 4:16-28). Focusing on these things, they missed (and still do) the essen-tial Jesus. Peter, however, was absolutely correct. But how did this happen? What emerges is that Peter had been assisted. It was not as a result of any merely human agency that he was able to enter the mystery of Jesus' personality. As Jesus put it, "it was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven." We can recall here Jesus' words that no one knows who the Son is except the Father, and who the Father is except the Son and those to whom he reveals him (Lk 10:22). So it was not through Peter's human effort that he discovered this truth. It was through the Holy Spirit, of whom Paul was to affirm that "no one can say Jesus is Lord except in the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 12:3). It was the Holy Spirit that spoke in him. This was revelation, not merely natural knowledge. Not only was Jesus satisfied with Peter's answer, call-ing him a happy man, but he moved quickly to reward him: "You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church. And the gates of the underworld can never hold Review for Religious out against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven: whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven." The enormousness of this reward is breathtaking, but the content is also rel-evant to the future of Jesus' mission (see Jn 21:15-19). That declaration of Jesus' identity revealed imme-diately Peter's deep configuration to Jesus to the extent that he had the seal of the Holy Spirit upon him. Peter's reward can be understood only in the context of this deep configuration. And the logic of this is relevant to us as well, in our relationship with God and with one another. In penetrating the truth of the divine personality of Jesus, Peter moved from a somewhat superficial relation-ship to an intimate personal one. If we understand Jesus in the depth of his divine and human reality, this knowl-edge is utterly transforming, and with transformation comes the burden of commitment and responsibility. To know people at an intimate level is to become committed to them. When we recognize that our rela-tionship has reached this deeper level, we are more pre-pared to take them into our confidence and relate with them still more intimately.| I suppose we are familiar with this situation. When we consider it briefly, we real-ize that it fits well the new phase in the relationship between Jesus and his disciples. With Peter's confession, the disciples were no lon-ger outsiders. They were brought inside and enabled by God's grace to perceive what others longed to per-ceive but could not perceive. The veil was lifted, and they were privileged to perceive the Lord of all creation in his true identity. Now their knowledge of him went far deeper than what people were saying. It involved 67.2 2008 Ilodig'we ¯ Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment something intensely personal, something that commit-ted them to him irrevocably. It did not, however, mean they had mastered everything about this mystery.2 In their very grasp of the mystery, something remained mysterious. They were ever in need of divine assistance to relate with him at this profound level. Toknow Jesus in his divine reality is a transforming experience, and it is our portion as Christians to attain such knowledge: 170 Peter's Confession and Our Contemporary Situation Like Peter and the other apostles, we too need to get to know Jesus better. Indeed, we can regard our journey of faith as getting to know Jesus and experienc-ing the power of his presence in our life (see Ph 1:12- 30). Also, like Peter, we need divine assistance to enter the profound reality of Jesus' divine personal-ity-- beyond a minimal grasp of what the church teaches in the creed. We need that, of course, and we need to integrate it into our faith journey. To know Jesus in his divine reality is a transforming experience, and it is our portion as Christians to attain such knowledge. The deeper our knowledge, the more we see that Jesus is our companion on our journey through life (Col 3:1-17). We see that he cares and that his presence makes all the difference in our life. We see the goodness of committing ourselves to Jesus. Living in accordance with our deeper knowledge of Jesus and our commitment brings us more and more into the divine realm. To confess Jesus as a good man Review for Religious or even a great prophet is not enough. It is to miss the whole point of his mission and our relationship with him. In the face of the artificiality and superficiality of our world, there is a need for us to encounter the full reality of Jesus, not mere extrinsic details. We must not live as if our faith were separate from our lives. Peter's confession of Jesus as the Son of the living God should make us step back and examine our own relationship with Jesus. How deep does my relationship with Jesus go? Is my relationship with him personal, or is it superficial, based on mere secondhand knowledge? God created us to know him, love him, and serve him.3 Knowledge is the gateway of love. The more we get to know Jesus and his love for us, the more we are able to love him in return and commit ourselves to him. All this may seem a tall order. It is a challenge. But it is not impossible to attain, with the assistance of the Holy Spirit, our advocate and teacher. The Holy Spirit, the spirit of truth, knows the depth of every reality, including God (see Jn 16:5-15). If we listen, the Holy Spirit will lead us deeper into the truth of Jesus. He will help us integrate this truth into our faith journey. We turn, then, to the Spirit and ask that our eyes be opened that we may see, our minds opened that we may understand, and our hearts so inflamed with divine love that our lives may be more and more conformed to the life of Christ. Notes 1 See Joseph Ratzinger, Pope Benedict XVI, Jesus .of Nazareth (London: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2007), pp. 335-341. 2 See Henri J.M. Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership (Bandra, Mumbai: Society of St. Paul, 1999), pp. 29-32. 3 See the Catechism of the Catholic Church (Dublin: Veritas, 1994), §§356-361. 67.2 2008 Ilodigwe * Disdplesbip, Faith, and Commitment Personal and Group Reflection 1. How would I describe the process of getting to know another person? Do I find that this process is the one I use in getting to know Jesus? 2. In this article, I look at Peter in his coming to a deeper relationship with Jesus. Who else have been models for me in my own being able to grow as a friend of Jesus? 3. Have biblical studies been helpful or not in my coming to know Jesus? What part does prayer play in my growth? 172) Mary, at the Hour of Her Death "And not an easy dying," said her sister Mary the wife of Clopas, smoothing back Her own gray hair from a forehead marked With midnight watching; "but for all her Pain and the Weight of memories she and I Have shared, she went from us smiling." The ritual prayers she knew are said again; Lovingly, th.ey cover her. And while the women Of the cross go to buy the spices and prepare As once before burial, the Overshadowing Presence that she knew visits where she lies; When they return: Mary is not there. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious PETER SCHINELLER Seeing with the Eyes of Christ A bold statement! How can we claim to see with the eyes of Christ? We are weak, sinners. We live in a different time and place, two thousand years after Jesus Christ. Yet this is what Pope Benedict says in his encyclical "God Is Love." About loving our neigh-bor, he writes: "Seeing with the eyes of Christ, I can give to others much more than their outward necessi-ties; I can give them the look of love which they crave" (§18). Following the Holy Father's lead, we might try to understand and retrieve this part of our Christian tradition. Where is Jesus? We often speak of the presence of Jesus Christ in our midst, especially in other persons. A key text that points to that presence is Matthew 25: "I was hungry and you fed me, naked and you clothed me." When we reach out to others in compassion and love, it is Christ we are touching. Mother Teresa saw this clearly: "Every person is Christ for me, and since173 Peter Schineller SJ writes from America House; 106 West 56 Street; New York, N.Y. 10019. 67.2 200g Schineller * Seeing with.the Eyes of Christ Saints live and model the Christ-life in their own day and agei there is only one Jesus, that person is the only one per-son in the world for me at that moment." We often hear that the goal of the spiritual life is union with Jesus Christ. He is the way, the truth, and the life. We join our lives to Jesus through word and sacrament, through prayer and action. We move to the Father Jind to his kingdom as followers of Jesus Christ. But is there another even more intimate way to speak of our relationship and union with Jesus? Is there a way that lessens the separation or dis-tance between us and Jesus, so that we begin to feel and say with St. Paul, "I live, now not I; but Christ lives in me" (Ga 2:20)? Can we not dare to say, as Pope Benedict does, that we are "see-ing with the eyes ofChrist"? Can we be bold and daring enough to say that we are to put on the heart and mind of Christ? That we reach out with the hands of Christ? Are these words true, or are they mythical, oversimplified piety? There is a story about a statue of Christ in a church. It was wartime, and the church was bombed. The statue stood, but the arms of Christ, reaching out, were broken off. Rather than remove or replace the damaged statue, someone put a note on it: "He has no hands but ours." Is this just a pious tale, or does it express a deep insight into the Christian life? Christian Tradition Speaks This Way St. Paul certainly saw his own life and the Christian life as intimately joined with Jesus Christ. We live Review for Religious and die with Christ, in him, through him. The Pauline writings use these and similar prepositions about 165 times to describe our relationship with Jesus Christ. Paul explains that we are slowly, gradually being trans-formed into the likeness of Christ (1 Co 3:18). Writing to the Christians at Philippi, he urges them to put on the attitude or mind of Christ: "Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus" (Ph 2:5). All of our thoughts are to be "captive in obedience to Christ" (2 Co 10:5). With even greater boldness he says, "We have the mind of Christ" (1 Co 2:16). The Christian, through the power and reality of grace, grad-ually assumes the shape, the form of Jesus Christ. Saints live and model the Christ-life in their own day and age. We find a strong expression of how we put on Christ in a few words of St. John Eudes. He writes of the Christian's relationship to Jesus: He belongs to you as the head belongs to its mem-bers; all that is his is yours: his spirit, his heart, his body and soul, and all his faculties. You must make use of all these as your own, to serve, praise, love, and glorify God. You belong to him, as members belong to their head. And so he longs for you to use all that is in you, as if it were his own, for the service and glory of the Father. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, § 1698) How This Might Apply to Us The phrase "imitation of Christ" is a hallowed one in the history of Christian spirituality. It often refers to the classic book of Thomas h Kempis. What might it mean in light of what we have outlined above? Can we see our lives not simply as an imitation of Jesus Christ who is out there, over against us, but as one with us, cooperating with us, working in us in every good deed 67.2 2008 Scbineller ¯ Seeing with the Eyes of Christ that we perform? Can we see, think, act, with the eyes, mind, hands of Christ? Can this become a way of envi-sioning our lives? Here are a few examples. The eyes of Christ and our eyes. Jesus observed and learned lessons from the birds of the air, the lilies of the field. Jesus observed, and pointed out to the disciples, the great generosity of the widow who with her two coins put in more than all the rich men. Jesus saw with eyes of compassion the needs of the sick and the blind. Are we open to seeing the needs of others, and to seeing as Jesus saw? Or do we have a beam in our own eye and so fail to see the good in others, fail to see the needs of others, with the eyes of Christ? The mind of Christ and our mind. Jesus was one with his Father. His Father's thoughts of truth and peace-- were in the mind of Christ. Jesus emptied himself and thought of the good of others. Do we let Jesus enter into our minds and reshape our attitudes, our way of thinking? Do the needs of others have more weight than our own needs and desires? Does the truth prevail in our words and our conduct, or do we compromise and bargain with the truth? The heart of Christ and our heart. Christ says, "Come to me, all who labor and are burdened. I will give you rest." His heart went out in compassion for the crowd, hungry for food and for the word of life. His heart went out to the lepers. His heart was pierced on the cross, so much did he love us. He wants to transform our hearts into his own. From hearts that can be cold and insensitive, isolated and stubborn, he wants our hearts to become warm like his own, overflowing with love for his Father and for all God's children. The hands of Christ and our hands. As a youth Jesus assisted in the carpenter shop in Nazareth. In his min- Review for Religious istry Jesus reached out with a healing hand, a hand of friendship and blessing. Children came to receive his welcome and blessing. His hands shared food with his disciples and with the crowds. With his hands he washed the feet of Peter and the other apostles. Do we extend a clenched fist or the open hand of friendship? Do we let Christ work through our hands as we go about our daily tasks in the home, the workplace, the market? Do we see ourselves as instruments of his work, his care and concern? The feet of Christ and our feet. Jesus went about doing good. He continued steadfastly on the journey to Jerusalem, knowing that it would lead to suffering and death. He carried the cross to the hill of Calvary. In our walking and travels, are we instruments for the spread of the gospel and for works of charity? The ears of Christ and our ears. We sing with the Psalmist that "the Lord hears the cry of the poor." Jesus heard the blind cry out for help, the cry of the Syro- Phoenician woman for assistance for her child. Do we fill our ears with unnecessary noise and entertainment so that we have little time to hear the call of the child, the friend, anyone in need? The words of Christ and our words. Jesus spoke words of love and words of power. He spoke with authority. His words often evoked faithful, beautiful responses such as Peter's words "Depart from me, Lord, I am a sinful man." Jesus' words gathered apostles and follow-ers, and captivated the crowds. Do our words echo the words of Christ, so that Christ can.be said to be speak-ing in and through us? Do others hear the words of the gospel, good news, in our conversation? The prayer of Jesus and our prayer. Jesus prayed before major decisions such as calling the apostles. He prayed I177 67.2 2008 Sebineller * Seeing witb the Eyes of Cbrist _178] for Peter that his faith might not falter. Jesus called God "Father" and invites us to do the same. As we pray the Lord's Prayer, do we realize that it is Jesus praying in and with and through us? He prayed for forgiveness even for those who crucified him. Do we let the Spirit of Jesus, dwelling in our hearts, cry out, "Abba, Father"? Do we let Jesus pray in and through us for the needs of our world and our family and friends? The will of Christ and our will. Jesus came to do the Father's will. "Not my will, but yours be done." He became obedient even unto death, death on a cross. Do we let God direct our will, or do we resist handing over our will to the divine will? Are our choices in line with the way and the words of Jesus, letting his Spirit be the power, impetus, and guide for our choices? Prayers That Reflect This Vision Four prayers of the Christian tradition reinforce the thrust of this reflection. The first is the familiar prayer of St. Patrick on the presence of Christ, how it sur-rounds and fills us. Christ be with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left, Christ where I lie, Christ where I sit, Christ where I arise, Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me, Christ in every eye that sees me, Christ in every ear that hears me. A second prayer is from the Book of Hours, of 1514: God be in my head, and my understanding; God be in my eyes, and in my looking; God be in my mouth, and in my speaking; Review for Religious God be in my heart, and in my thinking; God be at my end, and at my departing. The third prayer comes from St. Ignatius Loyola. At the end of the Spiritual Exercises, we hand over ourselves completely to the Lord, to his transforming power, for him to do with us as he wills and as he thinks best: Take, Lord, receive, all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my will. All that I have and pos-sess. You have given all to me. To you, Lord, I return it. All is yours. Do with it what you will. Give me only your love and your grace, that is enough for me. The fourth prayer, more contemporary, the Grail Prayer, is an excellent prayer for Christians as they go about their daily responsibilities: Lord Jesus, I give you my I give you my I give you my I give you my I give you my I give you my spirit that you may pray in me. Above all, I give you my heart that you may love in me your Father and all humankind. I give you my whole self that you may grow in me, so that it is you, Lord Jesus, who live and work and pray in me. hands to do your work. feet to go your way. eyes to see as you do. tongue to speak your words. mind that you may think in me. One way to begin to live this seeing, thinking, and walking with the eyes, mind, and feet of Jesus is by making it part of our daily examen. Rather than exclusively focus on our sins and failings, or our dominant feelings or emotions, we might focus on how we have or have not spoken, lis-tened, and acted like Jesus. With this Christocentric per-spective, we reflect on how Jesus Christ, and the Spirit of Jesus Christ, lives in and through us. 67.2 2008 Scbineller ¯ Seeing witb tbe Eyes of Christ Jesus Christ was born 2000 years ago in Bethlehem. He will come again at the end of time. He comes now in word and sacrament, and he wishes to be born again in us. He wishes to reshape, reform, and transform our bodies into his own. He wants to speak his words of love through us, and to reach out in compassion to the needy through our arms. The poet Hopkins captures this vision in his "kingfishers catch fire" poem: Christ - for Christ plays in ten thousand places, Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his, To the Father through the features of men's faces. 180 Mourning "I'm so sorry for your loss," I said, or I think I said that, And held out my hand to a black glove that shook, then grasped hard and held on As if my outstretched palm held gold, gold for the going, For going home tonight and leaving him there cold, alone and lonely. No, he is no longer lonely or in pain, or alone - She is. Suzanne Mayer IHM Review for Religious JOHN J. FISHER The Celibate Aunt or Uncle: Another Blessed Vocation Byrother Joe and I worked together for thirteen ears at the Catholic high school that our religious order owns and administers. Beyond our shared ministry and living in community together, we did not have much in common. As facilities manager, he was concerned with heating, ventilating, and air conditioning (HVAC) issues and requests for proposals (RFPs) to read. As a (eacher and administrator, I was concerned with Scholastic Aptitude Test (SAT) scores and collegial observations to write. He loved Broadway music while I played rock and roll. He would go out for a bike ride while I went out for a run. The special thing about which we agreed was that there is no greater vocation than being a celibate uncle. With excitement we exchanged stories about fam-ily get-togethers, our nephews' and nieces' accomplish-ments, and their latest activities and e~iploits. We could John J. Fisher OSFS has worked for twenty years in secondary and now college education. His address is De Sales University; 2755 Station Avenue; Center Val!ey, Pennsylvania 18034. Email: john. fisher@desales.edu 181 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle Prayer is a special, gift we religious priests, brothers, and sisters offer to our nephews and nieces. 182 visit their homes, have tremendous fun with them, spoil them, sugar them up, hold the babies once changed, and then leave. We would brag about their strengths and minimize their growing pains. All of our friends heard many family stories. We knew that our nieces and neph-ews were a special grace toward living our religious life well. Let me share an anecdote. "To listen to your messages, press one; to get mes-sages, press two. 'Hey, Uncle John, this is Danny. Just calling to ask if you can pray for DJ, one of our basket-ball players at Central Catholic. He got in a car acci-dent driving home from the school dance. He must have fallen asleep and drove off into a ditch. The police didn't find him till the next morning. He's in a coma. Please pray for him. Okay? Love you.'" As Danny was only in fifth grade when he left this mes-sage, it tells me three things. First, Danny already has his sights set on playing basketball at the high school level. He even speaks as if he is already part of the team, telling me "we lost a close one last night." Second, not only does Danny believe in the power of prayer, but he is other-centered, especially if the other is a star athlete. Third, Danny looks to his celibate uncle as one to whom he can go for prayers of intercession. Danny is now in sixth grade, DJ is recovering nicely, and I am still blessed with the privilege of praying for the intentions of my siblings and their greatest gift to me: their sons and daughters. Review for Religious Prayer is a special gift we religious priests, brothers, and sisters offer to our nephews and nieces. Because of our vocation and its implicit commitment to individual and communal prayer, we become the obvious "go-to" people to pray for people's petitions. We are asked to pray for this nephew's intention, this niece's special favor,~ or that of someone we do not even know but who is dear to our loved ones. They believe not only in the power of prayer, but very specially in our including them and their intentions in ours. Our fidelity to prayer in our state in life frees us to do just that. Several years ago I was challenged by a classmate to include my family, naming each one individually, in the intercessory part of my prayer life. Daily, morn-ing and evening, I conclude the intercessory portion of my prayer by naming all my siblings and their children from oldest to youngest. I include the intentions I know abouh ones specially asked for and unvoiced ones I sense are needed. In a generic way, I pray through the inter-cession of our parents (the young people's grandparents) that all within the family may be safe, protected from harm, happy, healthy, faithful to parents' and grand-parents' good example, and open to the presence and blessing of the Lord. Depending on the situation, I add specific intentions, from guidance in choosing a college to success in a master's program. Including them daily in prayer brings to mind the gift they are as individuals and our special relationship with each other. It is also a daily reminder of the tremendous gift of prayer and the need to specially cultivate this treasure. In addition to prayer, there are other aspects of the spiritual place we have in our relatives' lives. We are always invited to receptions of a new sacrament, the yearly school Christmas plays, and every gradua- 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle tion. Our relatives expect something spiritual from us, whether it is a holy card or a blessing on their fore-heads. Our small monetary gifts are always appreci-ated in a unique way, for they know we do not have the wherewithal that other aunts and uncles may have. It is often the celibate aunt or uncle that remembers all the birthdays of nephews and nieces. They count on us for the yearly birthday card, perhaps one at Halloween, and a small gift at Christmas. They call on us for that spe-cial "religion project" or an answer to some theological question. Of course, this can be a mixed blessing. When we do not know offhand who was the mother of Ruth or the pope of frequent communion, they call into ques-tion how we got ordained or what kind of a religious we are. We are, though, privileged to baptize them, to give them their first Eucharist, to witness their exchange of marriage vows or to read at their wedding. We hear of them explaining our way of life to their friends with a sense of special pride, bragging in their own way. Many of them call us weekly to "check in," affording us the opportunity to affirm and to express our ongoing love for them. We are their personal cheerleaders in each and every adventure, whether it is a passing fad or a passion that perdures. They expect us to say that they played well regardless. They understand that we have a right to be biased in thinking they were the best on the stage, on the court, or on the playing field. Every picture they paint is a Rembrandt, and every musical composition borders on something worthy of Carnegie Hall. Our nephews and nieces give us joy and hope. We are privileged to share their lives and stories in a way that maybe their other aunts and uncles cannot, because they are necessarily attentive to their own children's Review for Religious journeys. With no children of our own, we have the freedom to be the special aunt or uncle. They all become ours in a special way, collectively and individually. In a special bond of trust, we may be privy to hear-ing something that their own parents do not yet know (one getting stopped by the police for driving over the speed limit or a niece protecting a nephew from getting into trouble). Such discreet listening is usually not seri-ous, and things turn out well. We serve as a compassionate ear when they are not ready to go to their parents. They come to us for hope, under-standing, and accep-tance. They know clearly that we would never withhold something their parents need to know, but we can still listen to them as they tell us that their parents do not understand or are being unreasonable. They hope that we may serve as the voice of reason interceding for them to have a cell phone, be allowed to drive to school, or stay out just a little longer. We may be able to reach them simply because we are not their parents. We can be their sounding board, and we can help them realize how deeply their parents love and care for them, sensitizing them to the delicate vocation of parenting. All of this allows us to bring, with pride and vital-ity, this great sense of family into our homilies or our classes. In understanding them, their accomplishments, and their gradual maturation, we are able to relate to parents to whom we preach or whose children we teach. We may be able to r each them simply because we are not' their parents. 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle Our love manifests itself in our being compassionate and gentle with those whom we serve and who in various ¯ ways are similar to our nephews and nieces. It lets us see that there is no vocation more difficult, more precious, and more needed than parenting. Invited into the homes and lives of our siblings, we get a real sense of what it means to parent and to grow up in this changing world as a child, teenager, or young adult. In sharing these sto-ries, our preaching and teaching become real, vital, chal-lenging, and spirit filled. We can offer a strong sense of faith because we have received it from these relatives of ours. Our siblings' fidelity to their spouses and children exhorts us to a renewed commitment to be poor, chaste, and obedient for our own sakes and for the world. The relationship afforded us as aunts and uncles reminds us that we were born into a natural family before entering our religious family. We journey like everyone else as we see our loved ones struggling in school, working tirelessly to afford tuition, striving to stay sober, searching for employment, or hoping to find that special soul mate. We prayerfully accompany their growing pains, seeing the cycle in one after another. We serve as one who, standing off in the distance, perceives the special quality in each of them and then helps them appreciate their own unique spark of the divine. With everyone we have different relationships that change and grow over the years. With each of several families, we may experience different traditions, habits, and customs. But we highlight for all of them a larger sense of family, a broad sense of gift, and the God who is the giver of all. We can also share with family our religious lives and what we have to offer from our own ministry. We can offer a sense of hope to siblings who are so closely con-nected to their children that they cannot see beyond an Review for Religious attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), a poor self-image, a lack of responsibility, an inability to make this team or star in that role. We can remind them that their children's growing edges are no different from other children's, and we can offer the assurance that "things take time" and "this, too, shall pass." We may downplay the seriousness they see as concerned parents, knowing ourselves the greater severity of some other peo-ple's worries. With the passing of years, - we can reflect back to our nephews and nieces and their parents the fine growth and maturing we have observed. At the same time, we may be disconcerted that they grow up so quickly. We take another look at ourselves, our mortality, the fragility of our life, and may wonder what lessons we will have handed down to them. Additionally, we share our religious family, its mem-bers, and its charism with our relatives. We occasionally invite our natural family into the intimacy of our reli-gious family, where a mutual enrichment is enjoyed that enhances each family. We enjoy hearing our nephews and nieces call our fellow religious by their first names (Bob, Jack, Mary, Pat), showing the close bond they share instead of using titles like Father, Sister, Brother. They become extended members of our various reli-gious orders, championing our cause and ministry, even becoming our cheerleaders, bragging about our spirit, charism, and apostolates. Later in life, they invite us into their newly formed families and homes. They come We can also share with family our religious lives and what we have to offer from our own ministry. 187 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle 188 to visit, take us to dinner, invite us on their vacations, and support us as benefactors. These sentiments and relationships may not always be the lived situation. For some religious, they might not be real or feel real. Perhaps we find ourselves at odds with members of our family. We religious are like people everywhere. Though wonderfully redeemed, we are keenly aware of our flaws and sinfulness, and our fellow religious remind us of them. This is a blessing of living the communal life. But, sadly, we may find our-selves estranged from members o~ one or both of our two families. If so, a question needs to be asked: Is there anything so devastating that prayer, grace, and the pres-ence of God cannot heal? Of course, we cannot make up for lost time direcdy. Our nephews and nieces only have one "first communion," special recital, or game-winning three pointer. But, still, let us work at being gende and loving toward members of our families. Let us be vul-nerable to their forgiveness or compassion so that their grace and spirit may enrich our lives and ministries. They have much to teach us about being pastoral. Our nephews and nieces have trust in us. They value our vocation as religious and the graced role we serve as their special aunts and uncles dedicated to God's wider family. They can inspire us to a tremendous sense of fidelity. They need us to be women and men of integ-rity, faithful to our calling and our ministry. When it becomes difficult to be faithful, when it feels desirable to be anything but poor, chaste, and obedient, who we are to them and for them can serve as our motive to be the religious we vowed to be in the presence of God, the church, and that family of ours. We must not dis-appoint them. Being a celibate aunt or uncle is more than another hat, another role, another relationship. It Review for Religious is a phenomenal blessing like few others that breathes meaning into who we are--and how we are that uncle or aunt for all of God's people. Brother Joe and I no longer live in the same local community. When we gather for a communal celebra-tion, we keep each other abreast not just of our doings, but rather of our lives as uncles, our blessing as uncles, and all the joy that our nephews and nieces bring to us. Personal and Group Reflection 1. How has this article stimulated me to reflect on my vocation choice as I relate to the younger members of my family? 2. Acknowledging the tensions that arise in family relationships, can I reflect on some success stories in handling a difficult time? Invitation to Prayer The lake reflects a mirror calm, scents of wildflowers fill the air, a lone deer at the water's edge stares into the depths of heaven. Evergreens frame the tranquil scene, fir and pine in a regal pose, anticipating the coming of the finch and wren and sparrow. It is a time to approach God, to savor his creations, to let him penetrate the soul, raise the spirit, possess the heart. Neil C. Fitzgerald 67.2 2008 DAVID L. FLEMING gnatian exercising What Is a "First Week Retreat"? The Ignatian retreat of a few days to a week has commonly been called a "First Week" retreat. Ignatius himself described an adapta-tion of the full four-week Exercises with the phrase "giving the First Week exercises." The assumed focus has traditionally been on "sin" as outlined by Ignatius in the five explicit "exercises" of the First Week. In the tradition it has been acknowledged that Ignatius allows for some instruction on prayer as described at the end of the Exercises and on the various examens that are briefly explained at the beginning of the First Week. In this brief study, however, I want to focus on the prayer exercises, not on the instructions the retreat director may give. :190 ] David L. Fleming SJ is nearing twenty years as this jour-nal's editor. He first published the following article in the Indian journal Ignis, volume 37, number 3. Review for Religious Despite the practice known as "traditional," espe-cially with the retreats preached in the 19th- and 20th-century retreat houses, I question whether Ignatius intends a closely literal interpretation of the First Week. Does Ignatius intend to restrict the prayer material for those making a shorter retreat to meditation only on sin? Do we not need rather to take into consideration the dynamic of the First Week in order to understand how to structure and adapt a First Week retreat? How might we describe the dynamic or movement of the grace of the First Week? It is the interplay between the grace retreatants seek and the colloquy or conver-sation they have with God in each prayer period. Although in this Week, in the second prelude, Ignatius usually suggests a specific way of praying for a grace, he also speaks generally about the way of conversing with God in the colloquies. Because he describes a colloquy as a friend talking to a friend (or perhaps a servant to his master), he presumes that the conversation flows and is not predetermined. The Ignatian dynamic appears in this interplay between the grace sought and the results of the conversation, the colloquy. In an individually directed retreat, the director listens to this interplay between the grace prayed for in the prelude and the grace received as described to the retreat director. The director thereby receives inti-mations for the direction of the following day's prayer. Ignatius places the emphasis, not on dwelling on personal sins or on evil in our world, but on being grateful t

ILLUSTRIERTE GESCHICHTE DES WELTKRIEGES 1914/15. FÜNFTER BAND. Illustrierte Geschichte des Weltkrieges (-) Illustrierte Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/15. Fünfter Band. (Fünfter Band) ( - ) Einband ( - ) [Abb.]: Erbitterterter Straßenkampf in Montigny. Die von der am Kampfe teilnehmenden Bevölkerung des Ortes versteckt gehaltenen französischen Soldaten überfallen die eingedrungenen deutschen Abteilungen aus dem Hinterhalt. ( - ) Titelseite ( - ) Kriegskalender zur original-Einbanddecke der Illustrierten Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Fünfter Band enthaltend die Ereignisse vom 1. August bis 31. Dezember 1916. ( - ) August. ( - ) September. ( - ) Oktober. ( - ) November. ([I]) Dezember. ([II]) Inhaltsverzeichnis. ([III]) Kunstbeilagen. (IV) Karten. (IV) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 101 (Heft 101) ([1]) [Abb.]: Deutsche Maschinengewehrabteilung beim Sturm im Caillettewalde vor Verdun. ([1]) [Abb.]: Das Innere der Feste Donaumont kurz nach der Eroberung durch die Deutschen. (2) [Karte]: Die Gegend von Vaux mit dem Caillettewald. (3) [Abb.]: Erstürmung des befestigten Dorfes Damloup südöstlich Vaux durch die deutschen Truppen. ([4 - 5]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Französischer Offizier in einer der neuzeitlichen Kriegführung angemessenen Schutzuniform. Er trägt Stahlhelm, Schutzmaske und, zum Schutz gegen die Nässe des Schützengrabens, Gamaschen. (2)Einer der neuen französischen schweren Mörser mit seinem Riesengeschoß. (6) [Abb.]: Französische Proviantkraftwagen fahren durch einen zerschossenen Ort bei Verdun. (7) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (7) Die Seeschlacht vor dem Skagerrak. (7) [Abb.]: Farbige Engländer an der Westfront. Englische Hindukavallerie reitet durch die Straßen von Marseille. (8) [Abb.]: Die Seeschlacht vor dem Skagerrak. Deutsche Großkampfschiffe vernichten am 31. Mai 1916 im Nachtgefecht englische Panzerkreuzer und Zerstörer. ( - ) [Abb.]: Abwehr eines Turko-Handgranatenangriffs westlich der Höhe 304 vor Verdun. ([9]) [Karte]: Der Schauplatz der Seeschlacht vor dem Skagerrak. Das Kreuz bezeichnet ungefähr den Mittelpunkt der Kampflinien. (10) [Karte]: Bildliche Darstellung der einzelnen Abschnitte der Seeschlacht vor dem Skagerrak. ([11]) Auf Patrouille. (12) [Karte]: Das Gelände östlich und südöstlich von Ypern, auf dem württembergische Regimenter in den Tagen vom 2. bis 5. Juni wichtige Erfolge gegen die Engländer errangen. (12) [Abb.]: Gefangene Engländer aus den Kämpfen bei Ypern vor ihrer Abführung ins Gefangenenlager. (12) [Abb.]: Württembergische Regimenter erstürmen am 2. Juni 1916 die englischen Höhenstellungen im Abschnitt von Ypern südöstlich von Zillebeke. ([13]) [Abb.]: Deutsche Torpedoboote auf der Suche nach dem Feind. (14) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der englische Schlachtkreuzer "Queen Mary", der in der Seeschlacht vor dem Skagerrak vernichtet wurde. (2)Der englische Panzerkreuzer "Hampshire", mit dem Lord Kitchener nebst seinem ganzen Stabe auf der Fahrt nach Rußland bei den Orkney-Inseln den Untergang fand. (15) [3 Abb.]: Die siegreichen Führer in der Seeschlacht vor dem Skagerrak. (1)Admiral Scheer, Chef der deutschen Hochseestreitkräfte. (2)Vizeadmiral Hipper, Befehlshaber der deutschen Aufklärungsstreitkräfte. (3)Deutsche Linienschiffe in der Nordsee in Kiellinie, klar zum Gefecht. (16) [Abb.]: Der Untergang des englischen Großkampfschiffes "Warspite", das in der Hochseeschlacht vor dem Skagerrak am 31. Mai 1916 mit dem deutschen Großkampfschiff "König" im Kampf stand und infolge schwerer Treffer durch eine Explosion vernichtet wurde. ([17]) Ein Kampf im Gletschereis. (18) [Abb.]: Die Franzenshöhe am Stilfser Joch mit dem Ortler und dem Gasthof Franzenshöhe. (18) [Abb.]: Abgeschlagener Angriff italienischer Alpini auf dem Ebenferner im Adamellogebiet. ([19]) Abbildung ([19]) [Abb.]: Luftbad an der Vogesenfront, 50 Meter vor dem Feind. (20) [Abb.]: Einmarsch der siegriechen Truppen der Armee des Erzherzog-Thronfolgers Karl Franz Joseph in Asiago. ( - ) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 102 (Heft 102) ([21]) [Abb.]: Erbeutete italienische Fahnen vor einem österreichisch-ungarischen Kommandogebiet in Südtirol. ([21]) [Abb.]: Straße in der von den Italienern durch monatelanges Artilleriefeuer zu einem Trümmerhaufen zusammengeschossenen Stadt Piazza im Terragnolotal, die von den österreichisch-ungarischen Truppen bei ihrem Vordringen zurückerobert wurde. (22) [3 Abb.]: (1)Zufuhr von Kriegsmaterial auf steilen Gebirgstraßen mittels eigenartiger italienischer Karren mit Ochsenbespannung. (2)Nach erfolgreicher Beschießung italienischer Stellungen in Südtirol werden die Minenwerfer wieder instand gesetzt. (3)Auf der Wacht in den Südtiroler Bergen. (23) [Abb.]: Abteilungen des bosnisch-herzegowinischen Infanterieregiments Nr. 2 und des Grazer Infanterieregiments Nr. 27 erstürmen den Berg Meletta. ([24 - 25]) [Abb.]: Die Wohnbaracke des Erzherzog-Thronfolgers Karl Franz Joseph auf der Hochfläche von Vielgereuth. (26) [2 Abb.]: (1)Gefangene Alpini aus den Kämpfen an der Front in Südtirol vor einem österreichisch-ungarischen Kommandogebäude. (2)Erbeutete italienische 28-cm-Mörser in dem am 23. Mai 1916 eroberten Panzerwerk Campomolon. (27) [2 Abb.]: Auf Posten in den wolhynischen Sümpfen. (2)Blick auf österreichisch-ungarische Stellungen in Wolhynien. (28) [Abb.]: Abweisung eines nach starker Artillerievorbereitung erfolgten russischen Waffenangriffs im Handgemenge bei Jaslowiec an der unteren Strypa. ([29]) [Abb.]: Verschanzte österreichisch-ungarische Stellung an der bessarabischen Front. (30) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (30) Friedensgefahren. (30) [Karte]: Das wolhynische Festungsdreieck Luck-Dubno-Rowno. (30) [2 Abb.]: (1)General der Infanterie Felix Graf Bothmer, der hochverdiente Führer der deutschen Südarmee und erfolgreiche Verteidiger der Strypafront gegen die große russische Offensive im Juni 1916. (2)General der Kavallerie Karl Freiherr v. Pflanzer-Baltin (Mitte], Kommandant der österreichisch-ungarischen Truppen in der Bukowina. Links ein höherer deutscher Offizier. (31) Die Erstürmung von Notdre Dame de Loretto. (32) [Abb.]: Maschinengewehrkompanie zieht im Vormarsch auf Libau durch das Stranddorf Skatre. (32) [Abb.]: Vormarsch an der kurländischen Küste. ([33]) Die Eroberung Kurlands. (34) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Soldaten in Stellung an der Ostsee zur Verteidigung der Küste Kurlands. (2)Russischer Gefangener bringt erbeutete Gewehre zur Sammelstelle. (34) [Abb.]: Sprengung einer Brücke bei Libau durch die Russen. (35) [Abb.]: Ein aus zwei zusammengesetzten Fischerkähnen errichtetes Postenhäuschen am Strande in Kurland. (36) Die Entwicklung unserer Unterkunftsbauten an der Westfront. (37) [Abb.]: Ertappte Plünderer: Kosakenhorden werden auf ihrem Raubzug von preußischen Dragonern vertrieben. (37) [6 Abb.]: Zu dem Aufsatz "Die Entwicklung unserer Unterkunftsbauten an der Westfront". (1)Mannschaftsbracke. Die niedrige Form wurde aus Sparsamkeitsrücksichten gewählt. (2)Offiziersblockhütte mit Gartenhäuschen. (3)Offiziershütte im Walde. (4)Zweistöckiges Wohnhaus in einem zerschossenen Stadtchen. (5)Pferdeställe aus Lehm und Stroh. (6)Wohnhütten aus Lehm und Stroh. ([39]) Die Eisenbahn im Kriege. (38) [Abb.]: Zu dem Aufsatz "Die Eisenbahn im Kriege". (40) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 103 (Heft 103) ([41]) [Karte]: Vogelschaukarte der Gegend östlich der Maas bei Verdun. ([41]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Leutnant Rackow, der am 2. Juni 1916 an der Spitze der 1. Kompanie des Paderborner Infanterieregiments, unterstützt von den 20. Reservepionieren, in die Feste Vaux eindrang und das Fort besetzte, während starke französische Kräfte sich noch in den Kasematten befanden. Vom Kaiser wurde er durch Verleihung des Ordens Pour le Mérite ausgezeichnet. (2)Aus den Kämpfen bei Verdun. Deutsche Sturmtruppen mit den neuen Stahlschutzhelmen. (42) [Abb.]: Die Nordgräben der Feste Vaux, in die deutsche Truppen am 2. Juni 1916 unter Führung des Leutnants Rackow eindrangen. (43) [Abb.]: Erstürmung der Feste Vaux. ([44 - 45]) [Abb.]: Immelmanns letzter Erfolg. Das von Immelmann am 18. Juni 1916 abgeschossene feindliche Kampfflugzeug Baby Mine. (46) [2 Abb.]: (1)Zum bulgarischen Vorstoß auf griechisches Gebiet. General Todoroff (1) mit dem Prinzen Cyrill, dem Generalstabschef Oberst Russeff (2) und dessen Stellevertreter Oberstleutnant Valroff beim Kartenstudium im Hauptquartier. (2)Eine deutsche Munitionskolonne überschreitet eine Schiffbrücke über den Wardar. (47) [Abb]: Transport Verwundeter durch Kosaken. (48) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (48) Kriegsprengmittel. (48) [Abb.]: Kosakengreuel am Grabmal des Imam Hussein bei Kasr i Schirin im Juni 1916. ( - ) [Abb.]: Vertreibung der Russen aus Kasr i Schirin. ([49]) [Abb.]: Von der Tätigkeit des türkischen Roten Halbmondes: Ein Saal des Seraigymnasiums in Galata, das als Lazarett dient. Die Schwestern sind türkische Damen, die in der Pflegerinnenschule des Roten Halbmondes ihre Ausbilung genossen haben. (50) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ankunft Djemal Paschas in Bir Saba im süden Plästinas. (2)Der Kommandant von Jaffa (Palästina) hält an die ausrückenden Truppen und das Volk eine begeisternde Ansprache. (51) Die Verluste der englischen Kriegsflotte seit Beginn des Krieges. (52) [Abb.]: Der russische Panzerkreuzer "Pallada" wird durch das deutsche Unterseeboot U 26 torpediert. ([53]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Feldmäßig bepackter Telegraphist. (2)Ordnung im Granatfeuer: Regimentsgeschäftszimmer in einem Keller. (54) Der Untergang des russischen Panzerkreuzers "Pallada". (54) Die Feldtelegraphie. (55) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine aufgefahrene Telephonabteilung in Deckung dicht hinter der Front. (2)Ausgabe der zur Legung einer Telephonleitung notwendigen Geräte an die Mannschaften. (55) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der von den österreichisch-ungarischen Truppen am 15. Mai 1916 erstürmte italienische Stützpunkt "Castello Dante" bei Rovreit. (2)Teil des Kampfgrabens im italienischen Stützpunkt "Castello Dante" bei Robreit nach der Erstürmung durch österreichisch-ungarische Truppen. (56) [Abb.]: Österreichisch-ungarische Truppen besetzen bei ihrem Vordringen in Südtirol am 18. Mai 1916 im Etschtale südlich von Rovreit den Ort Mori. ([57]) Die Kämpfe in Südtirol. (58 - 59) [Abb.]: Eroberung eines italienischen Dorfes durch österreichisch-ungarische Truppen. (58 - 59) [2 Abb.]: (1) Von der österreichisch-ungarischen Artillerie zerstörte Mörserbatterie auf Campomolon. (2)Bei den Kämpfen um die Doberdohochfläche übergelaufene italienische Bersaglieri werden von einem österreichisch-ungarischen Offizier des Generalstabes verhört. (60) [Gedicht]: Immelmann †. (60) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 104 (Heft 104) ([61]) [3 Abb.]: (1)Der neue italienische Kriegsminister Paolo Morrone unter dem Ministerium Bissolati. (2)Der neue italienische Marineminister Camillo Corsi unter dem Ministerium Bissolati. (3)Einbringung italienischer Gefangener mit französischen Stahlhelmen. ([61]) [3 Abb.]: (1)Zur Hochebene führende Straße eines von den Italienern zerstörten österreichisch-ungarischen Grenzstädtchens. (2)Von den Italienern zerschossenes österreichisch-ungarisches Grenzstädtchen: Blick auf die Kirche. (3)Blick auf die zerstörten Häuser am Marktplatz des Städtchens gegenüber der Kirche. (62) [Abb.]: Der berühmte Brunnen am Hauptplatze in Asiago, der trotz des ständigen Feuers der italienischen schweren Artillerie wie durch ein Wunder unversehrt blieb. (63) [3 Abb.]: Die italienische Panzerfeste Monte Verena, die von den österreichisch-ungarischen Truppen am 22. Mai 1916 erstürmt wurde. (1)Zwei der vier Kuppeln des italienischen Panzerwerks Monte Verena. Der Bericht des italienischen Generalstabes hatte die Zelte als lediglich "flüchtig besetzte Geschützstände" bezeichnet. (2)Die Panzerfeste Monte Verena. Am Gipfel das von den österreichisch-ungarischen Truppen eroberte Panzerwerk. (3)Die südöstliche Ecke der italienischen Panzerfeste Monte Verena. ([64]) [Abb.]: Eroberung des von Alpini stark besetzten Monte Castelgomberto, nördlich des Monte Meletta, am 8. Juni 1916 durch österreichisch-ungarische Truppen. (65) [Abb.]: Oberleutnant Albin Mlaker, vom k.u.k. Sappeurbataillon Nr. 14, der ungeachtet des beiderseitigen Feuers in das zur Befestigungsgruppe von Arsiero gehörige italienische Panzerwerk Casa Ratti eindrang, die Besatzung gefangennahm und so drei unversehrte schwere Panzerhaubitzen, sowie zwei leichte Geschütze erbeutete. (66) [Karte]: Kartenskizze zum Artikel: "Die Eroberung des Vorwerks Leonowka". (66) [3 Abb.]: Beilder von der österreichisch-ungarischen Flotte. (1)Österreichisch-ungarische Torpedobootpatrouille in der Adria. (2)Österreichisch-ungarische Kreuzerflottille in voller Fahrt, von einer Beschießung der italienischen Küste zurückkehrend. (3)Österreichisch-ungarischer Torpedobootzerstörer verläßt den Hafen von Lissa. (67) [3 Abb.]: Bilder von der österreichisch-ungarischen Flotte. (1)Österreichisch-ungarische Torpedobootpatrouille in der Adria. (2)Österreichisch-ungarische Kreuzerflottille in voller Fahrt, von einer Beschießung der italienischen Küste zurückkehrend. (3)Österreichisch-ungarischer Torpedobootzerstörer verläßt den Hafen von Lissa. (67) [Abb.]: Der Deutsche Kaiser bei der Armee des kommandierenden Generals Exzellenz v. Fabeck im Osten. Besichtigung der Truppen durch den Kaiser, an seiner Seite General v. Fabeck. (68) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (68) Die Eroberung des Vorwerks Leonowka. (68) [Abb.]: Erstürmung des Vorwerks Leonowka durch deutsche Truppen der Armee des Generals v. Linsingen. ( - ) [Abb.]: Einbringung gefangener Russen an der Front von Smorgon. ([69]) [2 Abb.]: (1)General v. Linsingen, der Leiter der deutschen Gegenoffensive im Raume Kowel-Luck. (2)Deutsche Truppen auf dem Vormarsch in Galizien. (70) Mißhandlung deutschen Sanitätspersonals in Frankreich. (70) [Abb.]: Österreichisch-ungarische Stellung am Strypaflusse. (71) [Abb.]: General Brussilow, der Kommandant der russischen Armeegruppe der Südfront. (72) [Karte]: Zu den Kämpfen an der bessarabischen Grenze. (72) Immelmanns letzter Flug. (72) [Abb.]: Österreichisch-ungarische Flieger belegen die Bahnhofanlagen Veronas am 14. Juni 1916 erfolgreich mit Bomben. ([73]) Feldmarschalleutnant Ignaz Trollmann, der Bezwinger des Lovcen. (74) [2 Abb.]: (1)Feldmarschalleutnant Trollmann, Kommandant der albanisch-österreichisch-ungarischen Streitkräfte in Albanien. (2)Albanische Gendarmerie, die den vordringenden österreichisch-ungarischen Truppen wirkungsvolle Dienste leistete. (74) [Abb.]: Aus dem Albanierviertel von Uesküb. Leben und Treiben vor den Albanierhütten, in denen auch deutsche Soldaten Unterkunft fanden. (75) Die Fliegersprache. (75) Der Krieg in Ostafrika im April und Mai 1916. (76) [2 Abb.]: (1)Oberst v. Lettow-Vorbeck, der Kommandeur der Schutztruppe für Deutsch-Ostafrika. (2)Deutscher kleiner Panzerdeckskreuzer "Königsberg", im Rufidji-Fluß (Ostafrika) eingeschlossen. (76) [Abb.]: Vom deutschen Heldenkampf in Deutsch-Ostafrika: Vorgehen deutscher Schutztruppenabteilungen im Kilimandscharogebiet . (77) [Karte]: Karte zu den Kämpfen in Deutsch-Ostafrika. (79) Das neue Reichsamt. (78) [3 Abb.]: (1)v. Batocki, der Präsident des "Kriegsernährungsamts", der neuen Behörde für die Lebensmittelversorgung des deutschen Volkes, früher Oberpräsident der Provinz Ostpreußen. (2)Dr. Clemens Delbrück, der ehemalige, um die Organisation der Lebensmittelversorgung des deutschen Volkes hoch verdiente Staatssekretär des Reichsamtes des Innern. (3)Ein guter Fang im Oberrhein an der Mündung der Kinzig. (80) [Abb.]: Abführung gefangener Franzosen nach dem Sturm auf Fleury in der Nacht vom 23. auf den 24. Juni 1916. ( - ) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 105 (Heft 105) ([81]) [Abb.]: Der Armeeführer Kronprinz Wilhelm vor Verdun und drei seiner mit dem Orden Pour le Mérite geschmückten Offiziere. Von links: Hauptmann Bölcke, Leutnant Rackow, Erstürmer von Vaux, der Kronprinz, Oberleutnant Brandis, Erstürmer von Donaumont. ([81]) [Abb.]: Das Schlachtfeld bei den Maashöhen vor Verdun. (82) [2 Abb.]: (1)Das von deutschen Truppen eroberte Dorf Fresnes vor Verdun nach der Erstürmung. (2)Das von deutschen Truppen eroberte Dorf Haucourt bei Avocourt westlich von Verdun, dessen Kirche von dem deutschen Artilleriefeuer verschont wurde. (83) [Abb.]: Vorbereitung zum Abschießen eines Lufttorpedos aus einem französischen Schützengraben. (84) [Abb.]: Abwehr eines Angriffs starker, zum Teil neu herangeführter französischer Truppen gegen die von den Deutschen am 23. Juni eroberten Stellungen bei Fleury durch Artilleriesperrfeuer und vorgehende deutsche Infanterie am 27. Juni 1916. Links Fort Souville, davor Chapitrewald, rechts das zerschossene Fleury. ([85]) [Abb.]: Blick in die französische Ortschaft Lavannes bei Reims in der Champagne. (86) [Abb.]: Ein Minentrichter auf der Strecke zwischen Perthes und Tahure in der Champagne. (87) [Karte]: Das Hauptangriffsgebiet der engl.-franz. Offensive. (87) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (87) Die Schwarzen greifen an! (87) [Abb.]: Kulturkämpfer für Frankreich und England. (88) [Abb.]: Schwere englische Haubitzen im Zusammenarbeiten mit Flugzeugen an der französischen Front im Abschnitt südlich von La Bassée. ([89]) [Abb.]: Generalleutnant R. Robertson, der neue Chef des englischen Generalstabs. (90) [2 Abb.]: (1)Regenschirme und Stahlhelme im englischen Schützengraben. (2)Rattenjagd im englischen Schützengraben. (91) Die Schlachtfelder Wolhyniens. (92) [Abb.]: Bajonettsturm türkischer Truppen gegen die stark befestigten russischen Stützpunkte auf der über 2000 Meter hohen Bergkette nördlich des Tschorokflusses im südlichen Kaukasus am Morgen des 22. Juni 1916. ([93]) Die Badener beim Sturm am Jahnwäldchen. (94) [3 Abb.]: Deutsche Fürsten an der Front. (1)Herzog Ernst August zu Braunschweig und Lüneburg spricht einem Infanteristen, der sich vor Verdun besonders auszeichnete, seine persönliche Anerkennung aus. (2)Erzherzog Adolf Friedrich II. von Mecklenburg-Strelitz überreicht bei einer Truppenbesichtigung auf dem östlichen Kriegschauplatz Offizieren Auszeichnungen. (3)Großherzog Friedrich II. von Baden bei der Besichtigung eines Regiments, das sich bei den Junikämpfen 1916 im Westen auszeichnete, im Gespräch mit einigen Soldaten. ([95]) [Abb.]: Sturm der Badener am Jahnwäldchen. ([96 - 97]) Legen einer Telefonleitung in den Dolomiten. (98) [Abb.]: Nachrichtendienst im österreichisch-ungarischen Heere. Ein Telefonunterstand an der Tiroler Front. (98) [Abb.]: Beim Legen einer Telefonleitung in den Dolomiten. ([99]) Die Wanderbühne im Felde. (98) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ankunft der Truppe des feldgrauen Wandertheaters in Alberschweiler. (2)Die gesamte Truppe des Wandertheaters, zum Teil in Kostümen, aufgenommen in Wieh. (100) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 106 (Heft 106) ([101]) [Abb.]: Russische Truppen ergeben sich. Ein Augenblicksbild aus den erfolgreichen Kämpfen der deutschen Truppen im Osten. ([101]) [Abb.]: Artillerieoffiziere beobachten von einem mit Soldatengräbern besetzten Hügel aus den Rückzug der Russen aus einem in Brand geschossenen Dorfe. (102) [3 Abb.]: (1)Ein Beitrag zur schonungslosen Hinopferung russischer Soldaten: Russischer Soldatenfriedhof in Wolhynien. Der Friedhof ist mehrere Kilometer lang. (2)Eroberte russische Reservestellung bei Tarnopol. (3)Mustergültig ausgebauter österreichisch-ungarischer Unterstand am Styr. (103) [Abb.]: Erfolgreicher deutscher Vorstoß in den russischen Stellungen nördlich vom Miadziolsee an der nordöstlichen Front am 26. Juni 1916. ([104 - 105]) [Abb.]: Generaloberst v. Woyrsch (1) mit Oberstleutnant v. Heye (2) und Oberleutnant Prinz Reuß (3) bei der Besichtigung eines österreichisch-ungarischen Regiments in Rußland. (106) [Abb.]: Zusammenbruch des russischen Reiterangriffs bei Tlumacz im Artillerie- und Infanteriefeuer deutscher und österreichisch-ungarischer Truppen am 2. Juli 1916. ([107]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Auf der Flucht vor den Russen. (2)Von den Russen angezündetes Dorf an der galizischen Grenze. (108) [Abb.]: Sturm thüringischer Truppen auf die Trümmer von Cumières im Morgengrauen des 23. Mai 1916. ( - ) [Abb.]: Heldenmütige Verteidigung von Domidowka, westlich von Dubno, durch österreichisch-ungarische Infanterie. ([109]) [Abb.]: Blick auf Tolmein am Isonzo. (110) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (110) Die große Offensive. (110) [2 Abb.]: (1)Österreichisch-ungarische Soldaten bereiten auf einer Berghöhe eine Steinlawine vor. (2)Italienische Stellung im Suganer-Tal, aus der die österreichisch-ungarischen Truppen den Feind im ersten Ansturm vertrieben. (111) Zwischen Forges und Cumières. (112) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im serbischen Hochgebirge. (2)Überschreiten eines Gebirgsbaches bei Krivolac in Südmazedonien. (112) [Abb]: Aus den Kämpfen der Österreicher und Ungarn mit den Italienern. Österreichisch-ungarische Truppen dringen auf dem Kamm eines Berges im Handgranatenangriff über die erste italienische Linie vor. ([113]) [Abb.]: Blick auf Zerstörungen im Rabenwalde bei Verdun. (114) [Karte]: Das Kampfgelände vor Verdun westlich der Maas aus der Vogelschau gesehen. (114) [3 Abb.]: (1)Eine Straße in Forges. (2)Erstürmte Straßensperre in Forges. (3)Zerstörte Häusergruppe in Forges. (115) Tapfere Schwaben. Neues vom Kgl. Württembergischen Gebirgsbataillon. (116) [2 Abb.]: (1)Drei wackere Schwaben vom Königlich Württembergischen Gebirgsbataillon. (2)Ehrenurkunde des Königlich Württembergischen Gebirgsbataillons. (116) [Abb]: Ein am 10. Juli 1916 angesetzter Sturmangriff der Senegalneger auf die Höhe von La Maisonette (Sommegebiet) bricht an den deutschen Hindernissen blutig zusammen. ( - ) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 107 (Heft 107) ([117]) [Abb.]: Abwehr eines britischen Gasangriffs im Handgranatenkampf. Die Mannschaften tragen Masken zum Schutz gegen die giftigen Gase. ([117]) [Abb.]: Gefangene Franzosen von der englisch-französischen Offensive werden vom Bahnhof Perconne weiterbefördert. (118) [Karte]: Vogelschaukarte zur englisch-französischen Offensive vom Ancrebach bis beiderseits der Somme. ([119]) [Abb.]: Zu den Kämpfen an der Somme: Angriff der preußischen Garde auf die englischen Stellungen bei Contalmaison. ([120 - 121]) [Karte]: Das neue Angriffsgebiet der engl. französischen Offensive. (122) [Abb.]: Zerstörte Straße in Albert mit der Kathedrale, die von den Franzosen als Beobachtungsturm benutzt wurde und deshalb durch deutsche Artillerie beschossen werden mußte. (122) [Abb.]: Französische Stellung an der Somme mit Mörsern und Schützengrabenkanonen im heftigen Feuer deutscher Artillerie. ([123]) [Abb.]: Erstürmung der französischen Stellungen bei der "Hohen Batterie von "Damloup" im Handgranatenkampf am Morgen des 3. Juli 1916. Die Stürmenden sind mit den neuen Stahlhelmen ausgerüstet. (124) [Abb.]: Sturm des 10. bayerischen Infanterieregiments "König" und des bayerischen Infanterie-Leibregiments nach wirksamer Feuervorbereitung auf den Höhenrücken "Kalte Erde" und auf das Panzerwerk Thiaumont am 23. Juni 1916. Die Truppen sind mit den neuen Stahlhelmen ausgerüstet. ([125]) [Abb.]: Von den Kämpfen an der Somme: Das von den Franzosen vollständig zusammengeschossene Maschinenhaus einer Zuckerfabrik. (126) [4 Abb.]: (1)Die Hausflagge der Deutschen Ozean-Reederei G.m.b.H., Bremen. (2)Kapitän Paul König, Führer des ersten deutschen Untersee-Handelschiffs "Deutschland", das am 10. Juli 1916 in Baltimore mit einer Ladung wertvoller Farbstoffe eintraf. (2)Kapitänleutnant Loth. v. Arnauld de la Perière, Kommandant des Unterseeboots U 35, das ein Handschreiben des Deutschen Kaisers an den König von Spanien und Arzneimittel für die in Spanien weilenden Kamerun-Deutschen nach Cartagena brachte und auf der Rückfahrt den bewaffneten französischen Dampfer "Hérault" versenkte. (3)Direktor Alfred Lohmann vom Norddeutschen Lloyd, Vorsitzender des Aufsichtsrats der Deutschen Ozean-Reederei G.m.b.H., Bremen, der den Gedanken eines Untersee-Frachtverkehrs mit Amerika erfolgreich durchgeführt hat. (127) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (128 - 129) Ein deutsches Husarenstück zur See. U 35 in Cartagena. (128 - 129) [Abb.]: Ein deutsches Husarenstück zur See. (128 - 129) Die Elektrizität im Kriege. (130) [2 Abb.]: (1)Hochgeschraubter Scheinwerfer in Leuchtstellung. (2)Auf Kraftwagen montierte französische Scheinwerfer an der Westfront. (130) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kleine Scheinwerfer werden betriebsfertig gemacht. (2)Elektrisch betriebener Militärlastzug durchfährt einen Ort in Galizien. (131) [Abb.]: Gesamtansicht der Stadt Buczacz, wo die Russen bei ihrer Offensive im Sommer 1916 wiederholt unter Einsetzung aller Kräfte durchzubrechen versuchten. (132) [Abb.]: Aus den Kämpfen der russischen Offensive im Raume von Buczacz. ([133]) Eroberung eines belgischen Panzerautomobils bei Buczacz. (134) [Abb.]: Eine Sanitätsabteilung in Wolhynien bei Holoby und Bol Porsk, wo heftige Kämpfe mit den Russen stattfanden, auf dem Wege zur Front. (134) Die große russische Offensive. (134) [Abb.]: Das brennende Swidnika an der wolhynischen Front, nordwestlich von Luck, ein russischer Stützpunkt, der von den deutschen Truppen genommen wurde. (135) [Abb.]: Der deutsche Kaiser bei einer Garde-Reservedivision im Westen. (136) [Abb.]: Kampf um den Monte Pasubio. ( - ) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 108 (Heft 108) ([137]) [Abb.]: Verbandplatz hinter der österreichisch-ungarischen Front gegen Italien, der in wenigen Tagen an der Landstraße angelegt wurde. ([137]) [Abb.]: Verwundetenfürsorge im Hochgebirge. Ein Verwundeter wird von einem Berggipfel herabgelassen, wo sich das Feldlazarett befindet. (138) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eigenartige neue Schützenstellungen der Italiener. (2)Italienische 28-cm-Mörser, der unversehrt österreichisch-ungarischen Truppen in die Hände fiel. (139) [Abb.]: Vom Treiben der Russen in der Bukowina: Die Bevölkerung wird gezwungen, unter Aufsicht russischen Militärs ein Schlachtfeld aufzuräumen. ([140 - 141]) [Abb.]: Stachelbandhindernis auf dem östlichen Kriegschauplatz. (142) [2 Abb.]: (1)Deutsche Stellung im italienischen Grenzgebiet. Das Bild zeigt die ungemeinen Schwierigkeiten, mit denen unsere Feldgrauen in Rußland zu kämpfen haben. (2)Horchposten in Mückenschleiern ziehen auf Wache. (143) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (144) Erwerbsmöglichkeiten für heimkehrende Kriegsteilnehmer in geistig arbeitenden Berufen. (144) [Abb.]: Der Kriegshafen von Reval mit den Werftanlagen. (144) [Abb.]: Deutsche Truppen in der Gegend von Baranowitschi halten heftigen Massenangriffen der Russen stand. ([145]) Die Tätigkeit der Armee Pflanzer-Baltin auf dem Gebiete der Wohlfahrt und Wirtschaft. (146) [Abb.]: Unsere Soldaten helfen in Feindesland beim Aufstapeln des Heus. (146) [2 Abb.]: Unsere Soldaten bei der Kartoffelernte in Feindesland. (1)Kartoffelmiete. (2)Die Kartoffeln werden zusammengetragen. (147) Türkischer Bajonettangriff in der Schlacht bei Felahie (22. April 1916). (148) [Abb.]: Leben und Treiben in der Hauptstraße Bagdads. (148) [Abb.]: Türkischer Bajonettangriff in der Schlacht bei Felahie. ([149]) Krieg und Geld. (150) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Wirkung amerikanischer Munitionslieferung. (2)Das Verhältnis der vom Weltkrieg geforderten Opfer an Toten und Verwundeten. (150) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die bis zum 31. März 1916 erwachsenen Gesamtkosten des Weltkrieges werden auf 160 Milliarden Mark beziffert. (2)Neunzig Eisenbahnzüge zu je 70 und ein weiterer zu 72 Wagen wären erforderlich, um die Masse des Goldes zu befördern, das den bis zum 31. März 1916 erwachsenen Gesamtkosten des Weltkrieges entspricht. (151) [2 Abb.]: (1)Zur Beförderung des Goldes, das jede Minute des Weltkrieges kostet, wären drei Mann erforderlich. (2)Bildliche Darstellung der Menschenverluste der in den Weltkrieg verwickelten Völker. (152) Überfall preußischer Dragoner auf einen russischen Proviantzug. (152) [Abb.]: Erbeutung einer russischen Fuhrparkkolonne durch preußische Dragoner. ([153]) Über Feldstand- und Kriegsgerichte. (154) [Abb.]: Straßenbau in Frankreich durch die dortige Bevölkerung unter Leitung deutschen Militärs. (154) [8 Abb.]: Feldgraue Handwerker. (1)Österreichisch-ungarische Feldküche bei Görz. (2)Ausnutzung von Altmaterial: Reste eines französischen Transportdampfers, von deutschen Soldaten zum Bau von Unterständen benutzt. (3)Mechaniker einer Kraftwagentruppe bei der Ausbesserung eines Motors. (4)In einer deutschen Feldbäckerei. (5)Feldschusterwerkstatt in den Ruinen eines Dorfes in der Champagne. (6)Feldgraue bei der Herstellung von spanischen Reitern (Drahtverhauen für die Schützengräben). (7)Feldgraue als Gärtner hinter der Front. (8)Verkleidung des Schützengrabens mit Drahtgeflechten gegen das Nachrutschen des Erdreichs. ([155]) [2 Abb.]: (1)General Wille (X), der Oberbefehlshaber des Schweizer Heeres, bei einer Truppenbesichtigung. (2)Der Vierverband. Lehmfiguren, geformt von einem deutschen Feldgrauen im südlichen Elsaß dicht an der Schweizer Grenze. (156) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 109 (Heft 109) ([157]) [Abb.]: Deutscher Infanterist in neuer Ausrüstung. ([157]) [Abb.]: Englische Kavallerie reitet zur Attacke an (Sommegebiet). (158) [3 Abb.]: (1)Blick auf eine Gruppe ehemaliger Wohnstätten bei Peronne. (2)Ruinen in einem vollständig zerschossenen französischen Dorfe (Gegend von Peronne). (3)Zerschossene betonierte deutsche Unterstände an der Somme, die beim ersten Anprall verloren, dann aber zurückerobert wurden. (159) [Abb.]: Zu dem beispiellosen Munitionsaufwand der Engländer im Westen: Zufuhr von Wurfminen in die englischen Schützengräben. (160) [Abb.]: Deutsche Maschinengewehrabteilung und Infanterie in Pozières verteidigen einen Straßeneingang. ([161]) [Abb.]: Zerschossene, mit Sandsäcken geschützte Straßenecke in Verdun. (162) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (162) Erwerbsmöglichkeiten für heimkehrende Kriegsteilnehmer in geistig arbeitenden Berufen. (162) [2 Abb.]: Verdun vor dem Kriege und während der Beschießung 1916.(1)Morgenstimmung am Ufer der Maas, Sommer 1913. Verdun, am Horizont Belleville. (2)Zerstörungen im unteren Stadtteil Verduns am Ufer der Maas. ([163]) [Abb.]: König Ludwig von Bayern und der deutsche Kronprinz schreiten eine Ehrenkompanie ab (westlicher Kriegschauplatz). (164) [Abb.]: Zu den Kämpfen im südöstlichen Kaukasus (Kurdistan): Russisch-kaukasische Aufklärungsabteilung fällt in einen kurdischen Hinterhalt. ( - ) Der Feldzug in Mesopotamien. (165) [Abb.]: Französische Überläufer vor Verdun werden eingebracht. Die Offiziere suchen sich durch Verdeckung des Gesichts unkenntlich zu machen. (165) [Abb.]: Djemal Pascha, Kommandant der Wüstenarmee. (166) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eine Abteilung des Roten Halbmonds auf dem Marsch in der Wüste. (2)Türkische Infanterie und Kamelreiter auf dem Marsch in der Wüste. (167) Der Übergang über die Meurthe am 24. August 1914. (170) [Abb.]: Übergang über die Meurthe am 24. August 1914. ([168 - 169]) Feld- und Etappenbäckereien. (170) [Abb.]: Eine Anzahl "Ausgehungerter". (170) [2 Abb.]: (1)Feldbäckerei an der Westfront in der Champagne, die Brot für eine ganze Division bäckt. Das frisch gebackene Brot wird zum Lagerraum gebracht. (2)Feldbäckerei an der Westfront in der Champagne, die Brot für eine ganze Division bäckt. Das Mehl wird zur Backstube getragen. (171) Nachtkämpfe am Hilsenfirst in den Vogesen. (172) [Abb.]: Am Brunnen in einem Vogesenstädtchen. (172) [Karte]: Skizze zu dem Aufsatz: Nachtkämpfe am Hilsenfirst. (172) [Abb.]: Nächtlicher Kampf am Hilsenfirst. ([173]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Zum Besuch des Kaisers und des Kronprinzen in den Vogesen. (2)Französische Fahnenwache in den Vogesen verläßt ihren Unterstand, um sich in das Kampfgebiet zu begeben. (174) [Abb.]: Sandsackstellung in sumpfigem Gelände in den Vogesen. (175) Generalmajor Maximilian Ritter v. Hoen, Kommandant des k.u.k. Kriegspressequartiers und Direktor des Kriegsarchivs beim k.u.k. Kriegsministerium in Wien. (175) [Abb.]: Generalmajor Maximilian Ritter v. Hoen, Kommandant des k.u.k. Kriegspressequartiers und Direktor des Kriegsarchivs beim k.u.k. Kriegsministerium in Wien. (176) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 110 (Heft 110) ([177]) [Abb.]: Zur Erweiterung des Befehlsbereichs des Generalfeldmarschalls v. Hindenburg. ([177]) [Abb.]: Rast österreichisch-ungarischer Truppen nach einem mühseligen Bergmarsch. (178) [2 Abb.]: (1)Beförderung eines italienischen Geschützes an einem zwischen zwei Berggipfeln ausgespannten Seile. (2)Österreichisch-ungarisches Flugzeug zum Aufstieg bereit. (179) [Abb.]: Abgeschlagener Alpiniangriff im Hochgebirge. ([180 - 181]) [Abb.]: Auf Feldwache in einem wolhynischen Haferfeld. (182) [4 Abb.]: (1)Gefangener Russe vom Kaukasus. (2)Von den österreichisch-ungarischen Truppen an der südlichen Ostfront gefangener Tscherkessenanführer in einer Prunkuniform. (3)Gefangener Russe kurz nach seiner Einbringung. (4)Gefangene Russen auf der Straße dicht hinter der Front in Wolhynien. (183) [Abb.]: Soldaten der bulgarischen XI. mazedonischen Infanteriedivision mit französischen Gefangenen. (184) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (184) Massenspeisungen. (184) [Abb.]: Im Gefecht abgesessene Reiterei im Osten schleicht sich an den Feind heran. ( - ) [Abb.]: Bajonettangriff bulgarischer Infanterie. (185) [Abb.]: Essenausteilung an unbemittelte Kinder. (186) [2 Abb.]: (1)Militärische Obstverwertungsanlage im Westen: Das Einkochen des Winterobstes. (2)Militärische Obstverwertungsanlage im Westen: Das Abfüllen des Fruchtsaftes und Einlegen des gekochten Obstes in die Gläser. (187) Der Kampf um die Feste Vaux. (186) [Abb.]: Französische Telephonleitung zu den vordersten Schützengräben. (188) [Abb.]: Zu dem Ringen um die Feste Vaux: Deutsche Truppen brechen aus dem Schützengraben zum Handgranatenkampf vor. ([189]) Neue Kämpfe in Wolhynien und den Karpathen. (190) [2 Abb.]: (1)Österreichisch-ungarischer Stab im Erdunterstand in Galizien. (2)Verlassene russische Stellung an der südlichen Ostfront. (191) [Karte]: Vogelschaukarte der Ostkarpathen und der Bukowina mit Daten, die das allmähliche Vordringen der Russen veranschaulichen. (192) Kaperkrieg an Englands Küste. (192) [Abb.]: Aufbringung eines feindlichen Handelsdampfers durch deutsche Hochseestreitkräfte an der englischen Küste. ([193]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Gekaperte Schiffe in flandrischen Häfen. Dampfer "Lestris". Vor ihm liegt ein Ladekahn. (2)Gekaperte Schiffe in flandrischen Häfen. "Brussels" und "Zaandstrom" im Hafen von Brügge. Die "Brussels" war das Schiff des erschossenen englischen Freibeuters Kapitän Fryatt. (194) Entwicklung und Ausbau unserer Schützengräben und Unterstände. (195) [Abb.]: Unterstand in den Vogesen, 40 Meter vorm Feinde. (195) [Abb.]: Aus Weidengeflecht hergestellte Barrikade an einem deutschen Schützengraben im Westen. (196) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 111 (Heft 111) ([197]) [Abb.]: Blick auf den Hof des Offiziersgefangenenlagers in der Zitadelle von Mainz, wo sich englische, französische und belgische Offiziere befinden. ([197]) [Abb.]: Englisches lenkbares Luftschiff, nach längerer Fahrt an seine Ausfahrtstation zurückkehrend. (198) [Abb.]: Eigenartiges Mißgeschick eines englischen Luftschiff-Beobachtungsoffiziers. Der Fallschirm seines Fesselballons wurde durch den Wind aus seiner Umhüllung gerissen und aufgespannt, wodurch der Korb des Beobachters in Gefahrt geriet, umzukippen. Nur durch schnelles Abschneiden des Taus vermochte sich der Insasse zu retten. (199) [Abb.]: Aus den Minenkämpfen im Westen bei der französisch-englischen Sommeroffensive 1916: Den nach vielstündiger Artillerievorbereitung vorstürmenden englischen Massen stürzen sich immer wieder aus unterirdischen Stollen, Minentrichtern und Granatlöchern deutsche Abteilungen entgegen, die den Engländern mit ihren Maschinengewehren, sowie im Nahkampf mit Handgranaten, Bajonett, Messer und Schaufel blutige Verluste zufügen. ([200 - 201]) [Abb.]: Großer Betonunterstand im Bau. (Westlicher Kriegschauplatz). (202) [Abb.]: Von der englisch-französischen Offensive im Sommer 1916: Schwere englische Haubitze in Tätigkeit. ([203]) [Abb.]: Ankunft tonkinesischer Schützen aus Französisch-Indochina in Paris. (204) [Abb.]: In Erdlöchern und Gräben verborgene deutsche Maschinengewehr-Abteilung hält dem nach stundenlanger Artillerievorbereitung durch das Stacheldrahtgewirr hereinbrechenden englischen Anprall erfolgreich stand. ( - ) [Abb.]: Sächsische Reserve schlägt am 10. August 1916 einen englischen Durchbruchsversuch hart nördlich der Somme zurück. ([205]) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (206) Der Kampf um die Feste Vaux. (206) [Abb.]: Englische Soldaten bauen eine Straße durch die Trümmer von Contalmaison, das durch Geschützfeuer vollständig verschüttet wurde. (207) Entwicklung und Ausbau unserer Schützengräben und Unterstände. (207) [Abb.]: Aus Azannes, nördlich von Donaumont bei Verdun: Deutsche Soldaten mit den neuen Stahlhelmen beziehen ihre Stellungen. (208) Militär-Lastkraftwagen. (208) [Abb.]: Abwehr eines Angriffs starker, zum Teil neu herangeführter französischer Truppen gegen die deutschen Stellungen zwischen Maurepas und der Somme durch Artilleriesperrfeuer und vorgehende deutsche Infanterie am 9. August. ([209]) [Abb.]: Hauptmann Kalau vom Hofe, Führer des 1. Bataillons des Grenadierregiments Nr. 12, wurde für die heldenmäßige Verteidigung der Feste Donaumont im Mai 1916 durch Verleihung des Ordens Pour le Mérite ausgezeichnet. (210) [2 Abb.]: (1)Mannesmann-Mulag-Panzerwagen. (2)Kraftwagenzug der Pioniere. (211) Die Russenschlacht in Nordostgalizien. (210) [Abb.]: Österreichisch-ungarische Tragtierkolonne auf dem Marsch in Nordostgalizien. (212) Überfall auf ein italienisches Lager in Tripolis. (212) [2 Abb.]: (1)Zu den Kämpfen in Nordafrika: Berittener Askari in der italienischen Kolonie Erythräa. (2)Überfall auf ein italienisches Lager in Tripolis. (213) Arbeit hinter der Front. (214) [Abb.]: Deutsche Organisation in Polen. Vor einer deutschen Kommandantur warten Arbeitsuchende auf Zuweisung von Arbeit. (214) [3 Abb.]: Vom Betriebe der polnischen Quarantäne-Anstalt in Modlin (Nowo-Georgiewsk). (1)Etwa 3000 flüchtige Bauern aus der Gegend von Minsk, Riga und Dünaburg kamen mit der Eisenbahn in dem von deutschen Truppen besetzten Gebiet an, wo sie in der Quarantäneanstalt entlaust, geimpft und von deutschen Militärärzten auf ihren Gesundheitszustand untersucht wurden. Nach Ablauf von drei Wochen wurden die Bauern, hauptsächlich Weißrussen, über die Kolonien in Polen verteilt. (2)Die gereinigten und gespeisten Flüchtlinge werden durch deutsche Soldaten in Gruppen eingeteilt zwecks Verwendung in verschiedenen Gebieten. (3)Ein Teil der Flüchtlinge mit den mitgebrachten Haushaltungsgegenständen. (215) Kriegsnotgeld. (214) [Abb.]: Ankunft von Liebesgaben auf einem Bahnhof im Osten. (216) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 112 (Heft 112) ([217]) [Abb.]: Die Piazuttakirche in Görz mit dem umliegenden zerschossenen Straßenviertel und Blick gegen das Kastell. ([217]) [Karte]: Görz und Umgebung aus der Vogelschau. (218) [Abb.]: Italienische Verwundete werden vom Schlachtfeld zum Verbandplatz gebracht. (219) [Abb.]: Die Stärke der europäischen Völkerschaften. (220) [Abb.]: Säuberung des Isonzoufers von den dort eingedrungenen italienischen Truppen. ([221]) [Karte]: Karte zum Vormarsch der Bulgaren an der mazedonischen Front. (222) [Abb.]: Zur Bekämpfung der auf dem Balkan besonders großen Seuchengefahr: Deutsche Soldaten werden zum Schutz gegen die Cholera geimpft. (223) [Abb.]: Blick auf Doiran am Doiransee an der serbisch-griechischen Grenze. (224) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (224) Die Kämpfe zwischen Pruth und Dnjestr. (224) [Abb.]: Generalfeldmarschall v. Mackensen (X) und der bulgarische General Bojadieff (XX) während einer Fahrt auf dem Ochridasee. (224) [Abb.]: Niederwerfung der Russen im Bajonett- und Handgranatenkampf am Skobrowabach 9. August 1916. ( - ) [3 Abb.]: (1)Von den Franzosen auf ihrem Rückzuge zerstörte Brücke in Mazedonien. (2)Eine Abteilung der bulgarischen XI. mazedonischen Infanteriedivision mit erbeuteten französichen Maschinengewehren. (3)Eine Abteilung der bulgarischen XI. mazedonischen Infanteriedivision in einem beim Vormarsch gegen die Franzosen aufgeworfenen Schützengraben. (225) [Abb.]: Serbischer Soldat in neuer Ausrüstung. (226) Russische Kampfformen in der Sommeroffensive 1916. (226) [3 Abb.]: (1)Generaloberst v. Teresztyanszky, Führer einer Armee an der Ostfront. (2)Der rumänische Ministerpräsident und Träger der vertragswidrigen Politik Rumäniens, Bratianu. (3)König Ferdinand von Rumänien. (227) [Abb.]: Essenfassen türkischer Truppen auf einem galizischen Bahnhof. (228) [Abb.]: Türkische Truppen in Galizien weisen am 17. August 1916 einen russischen Angriff an der Zlota Lipa zurück. ([229]) Körperpflege im Heere. (228) [Abb.]: Eine von deutschen Truppen errichtete Badeanstalt. Die Wände sind mit lustigen Zeichnungen geschmückt. (230) [3 Abb.]: (1)"Autobadewagen" auf der Fahrt. (2)Aufgeschlagener "Autobadewagen". (3)In Betrieb gesetzter "Autobadewagen". (231) Französische Feldbriefe. (230) Aus dem Kriegstagebuch eines Schwarzkragens. (232) [4 Abb.]: (1) General Schostow, Chef des bulgarischen Generalstabs, starb am 1. September 1916 an den Folgen eines schweren Anfalls von Blinddarmentzündung. (2)Die eiserne Gedenkmünze der Deutschen Reichsbank, die den Einlieferern von Goldgegenständen verliehen wird. (3)(4)Bescheinigung der Deutschen Reichsbank für den Umtausch von Gold in Kassenscheine. (232) [Abb.]: Deutsche Flieger über Belfort. ( - ) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 113 (Heft 113) ([233]) [Abb.]: Marktplatz von Peronne mit zerschossenen Häusern und dem Denkmal der heldenmütigen Jungfrau von Peronne. ([233]) [Abb.]: Der von den Engländern zu einem Trümmerhaufen zusammengeschossene Ort Mametz nördlich der Somme. (234) [2 Abb.]: (1)Eingang zu dem Dorfe Fromelles im Gebiet der englischen Offensive im Westen, wo die Bayern am 19. Juli 1916 starke englische Angriffe zurückwiesen. (2)Von Geschossen aller Art duchsiebtes Haus in Fromelles. (235) [Abb.]: Französischer Flammenwerfer. (236) [Abb.]: Essenholen vor dem Einrücken in die Kampfstellung am Vauxberg vor Verdun. ([237]) [Karte]: Vogelschaukarte zu den Kämpfen zwischen Thiaumont und dem Chapitrewald, um Fort Souville bei Fleury und Fort Tavannes vor Verdun. (238) [6 Abb.]: Zerstörungen in den Dörfern vor Verdun, westlich der Maas. (1)Granateinschläge, beobachtet von der Höhe 304 vor Verdun. (2)Sperrfeuer, von der Höhe 304 aus gesehen. (3)Trümmer von Haucourt-Malancourt am Fuß der Höhe 304. (4)Das gänzlich zerstörte Malancourt. (5)Der Fuß der Höhe 304 bei Haucourt-Malancourt. (6)Das gänzlich zerstörte Dorf Haucourt am Fuß der Höhe 304. ([239]) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (240) Seestrategie und Seetaktik. (240) [Abb.]: Die kühne Mannschaft des ersten Handelsunterseebootes "Deutschland" mit ihrem Kapitän König nach der glücklichen Wiederkehr von ihrer Amerikafahrt in den Bremer Freihafen. (240) [Abb.]: Die Einfahrt des ersten Handelsunterseebootes "Deutschland" in die Wesermündung am 25. August 1916. ([241]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Kapitänleutnant Walter Forstmann. (2)Abgeschossene französischer Kampfdoppeldecker mit zwei Motoren. (242) [7 Abb.]: Erfolgreiche deutsche Kampfflieger im Westen. (1)Leutnant Mulzer, Ritter des Ordens Pour le Mérite. (2)Oberleutnant Freiherr v. Althaus. (3)Leutnant Wintgens, Ritter des Ordens Pour le Mérite. (4)Leutnant Baldamus. (5)Leutnant Höhndorf, Ritter des Ordens Pour le Mérite.(6)Leutnant Parschau, Ritter des Ordens Pour le Mérite, starb den Fliegertod im Westen. (7)Leutnant Frankl, Ritter des Ordens Pour le Mérite. (243) [Abb.]: Deutsche Hochseestreitkräfte beim Vorstoß in die Nordsee am 19. August 1916. ([244 - 245]) Der Tod als Würger. (246) [Karte]: Vogelschaukarte zu den türkischen Angriffen an der Front des Suezkanals. (247) Aus der Sommeschlacht. (248) [2 Abb.]: (1)Rumänische Infanterie, ausgerüstet zur Front. (2)Rumänische Offiziere. (248) [Abb.]: Ein englischer Gasangriff auf deutsche Schützengräben an der Somme. ([249]) [3 Abb.]: (1)Gefangene Engländer aus der Sommeschlacht vor der Kaserne der Zitadelle von Cambrai (4. August 1916). (2)Gefangene weiße und farbige Franzosen aus der Sommeschlacht in der Zitadelle von Cambrai (4. August 1916). (3)Gefangene Engländer aus der Sommeschlacht in der Zitadelle von Cambrai (4. August 1916)- (250 - 251) Rumäniens militärische und politische Bedeutung. (252) [Abb.]: Rumänischer Kavallerist in feldmarschmäßiger Ausrüstung. (252) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 114 (Heft 114) ([253]) [Abb.]: Auf der Hauptstraße in Kowel. Deutsche Artilleristen auf dem dem Wege zur Front. ([253]) [Abb.]: Armeekommandant General der Kavallerie Erzherzog Karl (der österreichisch-ungarische Thronfolger Karl Franz Joseph) bei der Beratung mit den seiner Armee zugeteilten deutschen Führern. (254) [Abb.]: Beförderung eines 30,5-cm-Mörsers auf schwerer Etappenbrücke bei Stryj an der Strecke nach Chodorowo in Galizien. (255) [2 Abb.]: (1)Völlig erschöpfte russische Pferde in einem deutschen Pferdelazarett. (2)Verhör gefangener Russen kurz nach ihrer Einbringung. (256) [Karte]: Vogelschaukarte der deutschen und österreichisch-ungarischen Ostfront vom Meere bis zum Balkan. ([257]) [Karte]: Sonderkarte von Rumänien. (258) [Abb.]: Blick auf die an der Dreiländerecke, der Grenze Österreich-Ungarns, Rumäniens und Serbiens gelegene Stadt Orsova an der Donau, vom serbischen Ufer aus. (259) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (259) Keine kolonialpolitischen Verzichte! (259) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick auf Kronstadt (ungarisch Brasso) mit Umgebung in Siebenbürgen. Die Stadt wurde von den Österreichern und Ungarn vor den eindringenden Rumänen geräumt. (2)Straßenbild aus Herkulesbad (Herkules-Fürdö). Auf den Höhen östlich des bekannten ungarischen Heilbades wurden rumänische Angriffe abgeschlagen. (260) [Abb.]: Zur Vergewaltigung Griechenlands: Die englisch-französische Flotte vor dem Piräus am 1. September 1916. Links die Hafeneinfahrt des Piräus , rechts die Bucht von Phaleron, dahinter Athen. ( - ) [Abb.]: Stürmische Begeisterung der Bulgaren in Sofia anläßlich der Kriegserklärung gegen Rumänien. Bulgarische Truppen werden bei der Abreise zur Dobrudschafront von der Bevölkerung Sofias jubelnd begrüßt. Im Hintergrunde die Sobranje und davor das Denkmal des "Zar-Befreiers". ([261]) [Abb.]: Der französische General Sarrail, Oberbefehlshaber der verbündeten Truppen in Saloniki, wohnt der Ankunft des ersten italienischen Regiments bei. Hinter ihm ein italienischer höherer Offizier. (262) Seestrategie und Seetaktik. (262) [Abb.]: Stellungskizze zu dem Aufsatz "Seestrategie und Seetaktik". (263) [Abb.]: Vergeblicher Ansturm englischer Divisionen gegen die tapfer standhaltenden württembergischen Truppen bei Ovillers. ([264 - 265]) [Abb.]: "Nach zwei Jahren - Waffenbrüder. Eine Allegorie der Entente." (266) Aus der Sommeschlacht. (266) [Abb.]: Gefangene Franzosen aus den Kämpfen an der Somme warten am Bahnhof Ham in Nordfrankreich auf ihre Überführung nach Deutschland. (266) [Abb.]: Ein Riesenperiskop in hochgeschraubter Stellung. (267) Periskope des Landkrieges. (268) [Abb.]: Das Riesenperiskop fertig zum Transport. (268) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 115 (Heft 115) ([269]) [Abb.]: Ruhe nach schwerem Gefecht. ([269]) [Abb.]: Aufbruch einer Radfahrerkompanie zum Sturmangriff bei den Kämpfen der englisch-französischen Offensive. (270) [Abb.]: Erkundungsfahrt auf einem Neckarsulmer Motorrad durch einen von schwerem Granatfeuer umgelegten Wald. (271) [2 Abb.]: (1)Generalleutnant Hermann v. Stein, Führer eines Reservekorps an der Somme, erhielt den Orden Pour le Mérite. (2)Laufgräben zur vordersten Linie und unterirdische Stollen, die unter den Ruinen der Häuser hindurchführen. (272) [Abb.]: Gefangennahme einer englischen Abteilung in einer Dorfkirche nördlich der Somme. ([273]) [Abb.]: Vorgehen deutscher Sturmtruppen beim Haumontwald vor Verdun. (274) [Abb.]: Vorfahrende Munitionskolonne einer schweren Batterie vor Verdun. (275) [Abb.]: Bulgarisches Feldlager im Gelände von Tutrakan in der Dobrudscha. (276) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (276) Seestrategie und Seetaktik. (276) [Abb.]: Die siegreichen bulgarischen und deutschen Truppen in der Dobrudscha nehmen den stark befestigten Platz Tutrakan im Sturm (6. September 1916). ( - ) [Abb.]: Das Szekler Infanterieregiment Nr. 82 in erfolgreichem Kampfe mit rumänischen Aufklärungsabteilungen südlich Kronstadt. ([277]) [Abb.]: Petroleumtanks im Hafen von Constanza, dem stark befestigten rumänischen Kriegshafen an der Küste des Schwarzen Meeres, der bereits mehrfach von deutschen Luftstreitkräften beschossen wurde. (278) Beschießung deutscher Stellungen an der asiatischen Küste der Dardanellen. (279) [Abb.]: Zeltlager österreichisch-ungarischer Truppen an der siebenbürgisch-rumänischen Grenze (279) [Abb.]: Beschießung deutscher Stellungen an der asiatischen Küste der Dardanellen durch die englisch-französische Mittelmeerflotte. ([280 - 281]) [Abb.]: Mit Hopfen geschmückte französische Kriegsgefangene, die bei der Hopfenernte in der Holledau, dem hopfenreichsten Teile Bayerns, tätig sind und denen diese Beschäftigung eine angenehme Abwechslung in ihrer Kriegsgefangenschaft bietet. (282) Das Ringen um Görz. (282) [Abb.]: Wie nach englischer Darstellung die Italiener unter österreichisch-ungarischem Feuer den Isonzo durchquerten, um Görz zu erstürmen. ([283]) [Abb.]: Innenansicht einer von den Italienern völlig zerstörten Kirche in Görz. (284) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 116 (Heft 116) ([285]) [Abb.]: General v. Gerok, der in dem Armeeverbande des Generals der Kavallerie Erzherzog Karl den Russen blutige Verluste beiderseits der Narajowka beibrachte. Unter General v. Linsingen bei der Südarmee erwarb sich General v. Gerok im Juli 1915 den Orden Pour le Mérite. ([285]) [Abb.]: Schwieriger Vormarsch mit Ochsenvorspann in den Karpathen. (286) [2 Abb.]: (1)Vorgeschobene Fernsprecherpatrouille einer Kavalleriedivision vor ihrem Unterstand in der Gegend des Naroczsees, südlich von Dünaburg. (2)Deutsche Fußartillerie auf dem Marsch in Galizien. (287) [Abb.]: Schützengraben eines ungarischen Honvedregiments an der russischen Front. (288) [Abb.]: Die russische Niederlage bei Swiniuchy, südwestlich von Luck, im August 1916. ([289]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Österreichisch-ungarische Kraftwagenkolonne im Astachtal. (2)Österreichisch-ungarische Truppen nehmen Vorräte in Empfang. (Front gegen Italien.) (290) [Abb.]: Kampflinie im Karst auf 2100 Meter Höhe. (291) Illustrierte Kriegsbeilage. (292) Generalquartiermeister. (292) [Abb.]: Flüchtlinge von der Isonzofront bei der sechsten italienischen Angriffsbewegung. (292) [Abb.]: Einzug deutscher und bulgarischer Kavallerie in Silistria am 9. September 1916. ( - ) [Abb.]: Abwehr eines italienischen Überfalls am Berge Majo zwischen Etsch- und Astachtal. ([293]) Im Kampf gegen die Rumänen. (294) [Abb.]: Generalfeldmarschall v. Mackensen, der Führer der siegreichen deutschen, bulgarischen und türkischen Streitkräfte in der Dobrudscha. (294) [Karte]: Vogelschaukarte zum Vordringen Mackensens in der Dobrudscha. (295) [Abb.]: Einbringung der ersten rumänischen Gefangenen in Sofia am 11. September 1916. (296) Der Krieg in Ostafrika im Juni und Juli 1916. (296) [Abb.]: Von dem linken Flügel der russischen Kaukasusfront: Türkische Truppen überfallen infolge eines glücklichen Handstreichs russische Gräben Ende August 1916, wobei eine große Beute an Kriegsmaterial und über 5000 Gefangene gemacht wurden. ([297]) [Abb.]: Bahnhof und Bahnhofsgebäude in Mombo an der Usambarabahn. (298) [2 Abb.]: (1)Fort Kilimatinde in Deutsch-Ostafrika. (2)Eingeborene von Deutsch-Ostafrika, die Trägerdienste für das deutsche Militär leisten, rasten auf der "Barra-barra" (Karawanenstraße). (299) [2 Abb.]: (1)Blick auf die von den Engländern am 13. Juni 1916 besetzte ehemalige Station Alt-Langenburg am Nordende des Nyassasees. (2)Station Bismarckburg wurde am 11. Juni 1916 von den Engländern besetzt. (300) [Abb.]: Munitionskolonne überschreitet die Brücke über den Forgesbach in dem stark unter Feuer der feindlichen Artillerie von der Richtung des nördlichen Hessenwaldes und der Höhe 304 her gehaltenen Dorfe Forges. Im Hintergrunde der Rabenwald und ganz rechts hinten, in Granatenrauch gehüllt, der Tote Mann. ( - ) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 117 (Heft 117) ([301]) [Abb.]: Starke Grabenstellung im Westen mit Schulterwehren für den einzelnen Mann. ([301]) [Karte]: Die Front Gueudecourt - Bouchavesnes. (302) [Abb.]: Eine der neuen Errungenschaften des Krieges: Maskiertes französisches 24-cm-Geschütz an der Sommefront. ([303]) [Abb.]: Deutscher Flieger in den Wolken. (304) [Abb.]: Deutsche Infanteriepatrouille beim Sturm auf ein Blockhaus in der Champagne. ([305]) [Abb.]: An einem Berghang vor Verdun von den Franzosen staffelförmig eingebaute Befestigungen und Unterstände für die Soldaten, sowie sicher angelegte Munitionskammern. (306) [Abb.]: Französische Kulturkämpfer. (307) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (308) Die Kämpfe im Karstgebiet (September 1916). (308) [Abb.]: Leben und Treiben auf einer Etappenstrecke am Isonzo. Auf den Kraftwagen die flüchtende Bevölkerung. (308) [Abb.]: Österreichisch-ungarische Tragtierkolonne im krainischen Hochgebirge. ([309]) [3 Abb.]: Neue Ritter des Ordens Pour le Mérite. (1)Generalleutnant Ilse, Chef des Generalstabes eines Oberkommandos im Westen. (2)General der Infanterie v. Goßler. (3)General der Infanterie v. Hoehn, kommandierender General eines Reservekorps an der Somme. (310) [6 Abb.]: Neue Ritter des Ordens Pour le Mérite. (1)General der Infanterie Sxt v. Arnim, Führer einer Armeegruppe, die bei Thiepval besonders heftigen englischen Angriffen standhielt. (2)General der Kavallerie v. Laffert. (3)Oberst Heye, Chef des Generalstabes des Generalobersten v. Woyrsch. (4)Generalleutnant v. Kuhl, Chef des Generalstabes des Oberkommandos einer Heeresgruppe. (5)Generalder Kavallerie v. Bernhardi, der bekannte Militärschriftsteller, stellvertretender kommandierender General eines Armeekorps. (6)Königlich bayerischer General der Infanterie v. Xylander, kommandierender General eines Armeekorps. (311) Der Leuchtturm von Warnemünde. (312) [Abb.]: Küstenbeobachtungstation an der Ostsee: Der Leuchttum von Warnemünde. ([313]) Die stellvertretenden Generalkommandos und ihre Aufgaben. (314) [Abb.]: Zur Fleischversorgung im Felde: Soldaten treiben Vieh zu einer Korpsschlächterei im Osten. (314) [Abb.]: Der Wochenbedarf eines Armeekorps an Schweinen. (Westlicher Schauplatz.) (315) Die Feier des Beiramfestes am 31. Juli 1916 im Weinbergslager. (315) [3 Abb.]: Feier des Beiramfestes im Lager der mohammedanischen Kriegsgefangenen in Wünsdorf bei Zossen. (1)Die feierliche Ansprache und das Gebet. (2)Eine Gruppe gefangener Spahis während des Gebets. (3)Die gefangenen Russen mohammedanischen Glaubens während des Gebets. (316) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. heft 118 (Heft 118) ([317]) [2 Abb.]: (1)General v. der Marwitz, Befehlshaber der Truppen westlich von Luck, wurde unter Belassung in seinen Dienstverhältnissen zum Generaladjutanten des Deutschen Kaisers ernannt. (2)Ankunft frischer Truppen auf dem östlichen Kriegschauplatz: Nach dem Verlassen des Eisenbahnzuges. ([317]) [Abb.]: Blick auf ein deutsches Feldlager im Osten. (318) [Abb.]: Deutsche Armierungstruppen im Osten arbeiten an der Wiederherstellung von Festungswerken. (319) [Abb.]: Vergeblicher nächtlicher Sturm der Russen in den Karpathen. ([321]) [Karte]: Vogelschaukarte der Dobrudschafront. (322) [Abb.]: Eine Straße in Hermannstadt (Nagy Szeben) in Siebenbürgen, das zu Beginn der Kampfhandlungen mit Rumänien von den österreichisch-ungarischen Truppen geräumt und durch die siegreiche Schlacht vom 26.-28. September 1916 den Rumänen wieder entrissen wurde. (323) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (323) Zwischen Wasser und Feuer. (323) [2 Abb.]: (1)Generalleutnant v. Staabs, Führer deutscher und ungarischer Truppen in den wechselvollen Kämpfen gegen die Rumänen in Siebenbürgen im Raume des Balkan- und Szurdukpasses bei Petrofeny. (2)Die Talenge beim Szurdukpaß an der siebenbürgisch-rumänischen Grenze. (324) [Abb.]: Verfolgung der Rumänen in der Dobrudscha durch deutsche und bulgarische Kavallerie nach der Schlacht bei Dobric. ( - ) [Abb.]: Erstürmung des Szurdukpasses durch die Truppen des Generalleutnants v. Staabs am 19. September 1916. ([325]) [Abb.]: Generalleutnant Krafft v. Delmensingen, der Sieger am Roten-Turm-Paß in Siebenbürgen, südlich von Hermannstadt. (326) Krieg und Flachsbau. (326) [Abb.]: Flucht der Reste der in der Umfassungschlacht bei Hermannstadt von deutschen und österreichisch-ungarischen Truppen unter dem Oberbefehl des Generals v. Falkenhayn geschlagenen ersten rumänischen Armee über den Roten-Turm-Paß, wo sie von dem verheerenden Feuer bayerischer Truppen unter Generalleutnant Krafft v. Delmensingen empfangen wurden. ([327]) Besuch in Donaumont. (328) [Abb.]: General Schekow, Generalissimus der bulgarischen Armee, im Felde. (328) [Abb.]: Bulgarische Kavallerie zersprengt am 17. September 1916 südlich der Linie Poroj-Matnica am Fuße der Belasica Planina die weichende italienische Infanterie. ([329]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ankunft des ersten Abteilungstransportes des 4. griechischen Armeekorps in Görlitz. (2)In Görlitz am 27. September 1916 eingetroffene griechische Soldaten des 4. griechischen Armeekorps, das sich in den Schutz des Deutschen Reiches begeben hat und in einem Barackenlager bei Görlitz untergebracht wurde. (330) [2 Abb.]: (1)Im Kehlgraben 1 der völlig zerschossenen Feste Donaumont vor Verdun. (2)Statistik der jährlichen Baumwollernte der Erde. (331) Die Pistolkamera. (331) [3 Abb.]: (1)Die deutsche Pistolkamera im Gebrauch während des Fluges. (2)Die deutsche Pistolkamera von rechts gesehen. (3)Die deutsche Pistolkamera von links gesehen. (332) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 119 (Heft 119) ([333]) [3 Abb.]: (1)General der Infanterie v. Kathen. (2)General der Infanterie v. Boehn. (3)General der Infanterie v. Schenck. ([333]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Von den Franzosen durchlöcherter Fabrikschornstein bei Chaulnes. (2)Verheerungen durch einschlagende Geschosse in einem Wäldchen bei Perconne. (334) [Abb.]: Neue Reservemannschaften ziehen an die Front in Nordfrankreich. Ankunft und Ausladen von Geschützen an der Bahn von Bapaume. (335) [Abb.]: Aus den Kämpfen an der Somme: Unterirdische Geräusche kündigen an, daß der englische Schützengraben von deutscher Seite her untermininiert wird, wodurch die Besatzungstruppen sich genötigt sehen, ihre Stellung zu verlassen und den Graben zu räumen. Das deutsche Sperrfeuer zwingt sie jedoch in die Stellung zurück. ([336 - 337]) [Abb.]: neue belgische Riesenautomobile an der flandrischen Front. (338) [Karte]: Das bisherige Ergebnis der Somme-Offensive im Verhältnis zu dem Vorrücken auf Verdun und dem besetzten Gebiet. (339) [Abb.]: In der Sommeschlacht gefangene Franzosen werden auf dem Hofe des Kastells in Ham in Nordfrankreich mit Kaffee und Butterbrot gespeist. (339) [Abb.]: Von der Feier einer Fliegerabteilung im Westen bei Verleihung des Ordens Pour le Mérite. (340) [Abb.]: Thüringische Ulanen Nr. 6 (Hanau) überraschen und nehmen südöstlich der Stadt Tutrakan eine rumänische 15-cm-Batterie von vier Geschützen. ( - ) [Abb.]: Deutsches Fokkerflugzeug verfolgt einen Gegner. (341) [3 Abb.]: (1)Oberleutnant z.S. Peterson erlitt den Heldentod beim Luftangriff auf London am 23./24. September 1916. (2)Hauptmann Wilhelm Schramm Kommandant des Luftschiffes, das in der Nacht vom 2. zum 3. September 1916 über London im feindlichen Feuer abstürzte. (3)Kapitänleutnant Heinrich Mathy, Kommandant des beim Luftangriff auf London am 1./2. Oktober 1916 vernichteten Luftschiffes. (342) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (342) Thüringische Ulanen Nr. 6 bei Tutrakan. (342) [2 Abb.]: (1), (2)Lichtbildaufnahme des von deutschen Fliegern gesprengten englischen Munitionslagers bei Audruick, 16 Kilometer südlich von Calais, des größten Munitionslagers der Welt, am Tage vor und - nach dem Angriff. (342) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ein seltenes Denkmal: Der Mast des "Maori". (2)Matrosenkompanie auf dem Marsch an der flandrischen Küste. (343) Rettung französischer U-Boot-Mannschaft durch österreichisch-ungarische Flieger. (344) [Abb.]: Die Fliegeroffiziere einer österreichisch-ungarischen Flotten-Flug-Abteilung mit ihrem Kommandanten, Linienschiffsleutnant Konjovic. (344) Der Kampf gegen die Rumänen. 2. Die Befreiung Siebenbürgens. (344) [Abb.]: Heldenmütige Rettung der gesamten Mannschaft des versenkten französischen Unterseebootes "Foucault" durch zwei österreichisch-ungarische Seeflugzeuge. ([345]) Frauen als Kämpferinnen. (346) [4 Abb.]: Weibliche Mitkämpfer im österreichisch-ungarischen und russischen Heer. (1)Fräulein Maria v. Fery-Bognar, die beim österreichisch-ungarischen Heere als Kriegsfriwillige kämpfte, zum Korporal befördert wurde und für bewiesene Tapferkeit vom Kaiser Franz Joseph eine goldene Brosche mit Initialen erhielt. (2)Fräulein Jarema Kuz, Kadettaspirant der Ukrainer freiwilligen Ulanenschwadron im österreichisch-ungarischen Heere. (3)Fräulein Tania, eine sechzehnjährige Russin, die als Infanterist im russischen Heere mitkämpfte. Der Infanterist zu ihrer Linken ist ein fünfzehnjähriger russischer Freiwilliger. (4)Marsa Malko, die Frau eines russischen Unteroffiziers, die an dessen Seite kämpfte, bis er fiel, und selbst bei Schaulen in deutsche Gefangenschaft geriet. Im Gefangenenlager Laugszargen wurde sie als Frau erkannt und mußte ihre Uniform mit Frauenkleidern vertauschen. (347) Gold gab ich für Eisen. (348) [Abb.]: Gold gab ich für Eisen. (348) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 120 (Heft 120) ([349]) [2 Abb.]: (1)General v. Eben, Kommandierender General an der Ostfront, dessen Truppen nördlich Zborow russische Massenstürme im Bajonettkampf restlos zurückschlugen, erhielt vom Kaiser den Orden Pour le Mérite. (2)Anlegen von Drahtverhauen vor den österreichisch-ungarischen Stellungen an der bessarabischen Front. ([349]) [Abb.]: Russische Gefangene werden gleich nach ihrer Einbringung mit warmem Essen gespeist. (350) [Abb.]: Blick auf die Straße eines von den deutschen Truppen besetzten russischen Dorfes in der Gegend von Kowel. (351) [Abb.]: Malerische Ansicht aus einem von deutschen Truppen besetzten russischen Dorf in Wolhynien. (352) [Abb.]: Aus den Kämpfen in Wolhynien: eine Schwadron ungarischer Landsturmhusaren verfolgt bei Nowo-Poczajew zurückgeschlagene Russen. ([353]) [Karte]: Vogelschaukarte des Gebietes um Kronstadt. (354) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (354) Grandpré an der Aire und sein Schloß. (354) Österreichisch-ungarische Vortruppen im Kampf mit den weichenden Rumänen vor Kronstadt. (355) [Abb.]: Vom Kriegschauplatz an der siebenbürgisch-rumänischen Grenze: Die Südkarpathen südlich von Kronstadt, wo die verbündeten Truppen die Grenze überschritten. (356) Die Funkentelegraphie im Weltkriege. (356) [Abb.]: Leben hinter der Front: Vor dem Schloß in Grandpré. Ausrückende Ulanenpatrouille, rechts Speisung französischer Gefangener. ( - ) [Abb.]: Einzug der siegreichen deutschen Truppen in das befreite Kronstadt. ([357]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Der Franziskanerpater Kovács begrüßt vor der Kirche die erste Honvedtruppe, die in Kronstadt eindrang. (2)Ansicht von Monastir mit dem Peristerigebirge (2532 Meter). (358) [Abb.]: Angriff deutscher und bulgarischer Truppen auf befestigte Feldstellungen an der Cerna. ([359]) Der Sturmangriff bei Zillebeke. (360 - 361) [Abb.]: Die Erstürmung des Höhenrückens südöstlich von Zillebeke bei Ypern und der dahinter gelegenen englischen Stellungen durch württembergische Regimenter am 2. Juni 1916. (360 - 361) [Abb.]: Moderne Schutzwaffen: Die Stahlweste eines englischen Hauptmanns, die ihn vor dem sicheren Tode rettete. (362) Der weiße Krieg. (362) [6 Abb.]: Aus dem Gletschergebiet des Ortlers in Südtirol. (1)Beförderung eines Geschützes über die Ferner. (2)Abfeuern eines Mörsers. (3)Patrouille sicht sich ihren Weg durch einen Gletscherbruch. (4)Abseilen eines Verwundeten. (5)Beförderung von Holz durch Hunde. (6)Verwundetentransport vom Gletscher. ([363]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Telegraphenstation auf einem Farman-Zweidecker. (2)Automobilstation (Innenansicht). (364) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 121 (Heft 121) ([365]) [Abb.]: Kapitänleutnant Hans Rose, der das deutsche Unterseeboot "U 53" aus Wilhelmshaven in 17 Tagen über den Atlantischen Ozean nach Newport auf Rhode Island (Amerika) führte, wo er am 8. Oktober 1916 ankam. ([365]) [Abb.]: Exzellenz v. Lochow, Kommandierender General des brandenburgischen Armeekorps im Westen. (366) [2 Abb.]: Bilder aus den besetzten Städten Cambrai und Bapaume. (1)Eine Infanteriekolonne überschreitet den Marktplatz in Cambrai. (2) Straßenbild aus Bapaume. (367) [Abb.]: Blick auf ein Schlachtfeld an der Somme von einem Flugzeuge in 200 Metern Höhe aus während des Kampfes um Vermandovillers am 17. September 1916. (368) [Abb.]: Deutsche Truppen weisen im Nahkampf französische Angriffe aus dem Raume Morval-Bouchavesnes zurück. ([369]) [Abb.]: Flugzeug eines französischen Fliegergeschwaders, das den Auftrag hat, Bomben auf deutsche Städte zu werfen. (370) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (371) Der Unterseebootkrieg im Herbst 1916. (371) [Abb.]: Handgranatenwerfer mit Sthalhelm (Sturmpionier). (371) [Karte]: Karte der neuen russischen Bahn zur Murmanküste. (372) [Abb.]: Katharinen-Hafen bei Alexandrowsk auf der Halbinsel Kola, der Endpunkt der Murmanbahn. (372) [Abb.]: Der deutsche Tauchboot "U 53" an der amerikanischen Küste. Begegnung mit dem amerikanischen Zerstörer "Benham" beim "Nantucket"-Feuerschiff. ( - ) [Abb.]: Beschießung des Hafens von Alexandrowsk, des Endpunktes der russischen Murmanbahn am nördlichen Eismeer, durch ein deutsches Unterseeboot. ([373]) Die Vorbereitung der Friedenswirtschaft. (374) [Abb.]: Französische Truppen auf dem italienischen Kriegschauplatz bereiten sich ihre Suppe. (374) [Abb.]: Kriegshunde als Zugtiere in der österreichisch-ungarischen Armee an der italienischen Front. (375) Die Vertreibung der Italiener aus Tripolis. (375) [Abb.]: Österreichisch-ungarisches Maschinengewehr im Krn-Abschnitt in Stellung. (375) [Abb.]: Siegreicher Angriff der türkischen Freiwilligen unter Nuri Pascha, dem Bruder des Enver Pascha, auf die Italiener bei Mistrata in Tripolis (Juli 1916), wobei 200 Offiziere und 6000 Mann gefangen genommen sowie 24 Geschütze erbeutet wurden. ([376 - 377]) Neues von der Feldpost. (378) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Feldpost auf dem Vormarsch (östlicher Kriegschauplatz). (2)Feldpostexpedition im Unterstand (östlicher Kriegschauplatz). (378) [Abb.]: Die Feldpost in einer Stadt auf dem westlichen Kriegschauplatz. (379) [8 Abb.]: Unterhaltungen der Feldgrauen hinter der Front. (1)Kegelbahn hinter der Front. (2)Beim Krocketspiel in einem flandrischen Küstenort. (3)Kinovorstellung im Quartier. (4)Theatervorstellung im Unterstand. (5)Beim Boxen. (6)Beim Angeln in der Maas. (7)Kraftfahrerkapelle bei lustiger Musik. (8)Beim Skat vor dem Quartier. ([380]) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 122 (Heft 122) ([381]) [Abb.]: Oberleutnant v. Cossel und sein Flugzeugführer Vizefeldwebel Windisch. ([381]) [3 Abb.]: Aus den ostpreußischen Kriegsgefangenenlagern. (1)Baracken des Kriegsgefangenenlagers Tublauken bei Gumbinnen. (2)Die Kriegsgefangenen des Lagers Gumbinnen in ihrer Lagerstätte beim Morgenkaffee. (3)Ankunft der Post für die Kriegsgefangenen des Lagers Stallupönen. (382) [3 Abb.]: Aus den ostpreußischen Kriegsgefangenenlagern. (1)Russische Kriegsgefangene des Lagers Stallupönen beim Mittagsgebet. (2)Fünf verschiedenen Völkern angehörende Gefangene des Lagers Stallupönen beim Kartoffelschälen. (3)Engländer, Franzose, Serbe, Russe und Belgier in der Kantine des Kriegsgefangenenlagers Stallupönen (383) [Abb.]: Deutsche Infanterie und Artillerie bei Überschreiten der Narajowka. (384 - 385) [Abb.]: Zum Besuch König Ferdinands von Bulgarien bei der Armee des österreichisch-ungarischen Thronfolgers Erzherzog Karl, jetzigen Kaisers Karl I. (386) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (387) Die Bartholomäusnacht am Roten-Turm-Paß. (387) [Abb.]: Generalfeldmarschall v. Mackensen besichtigt von dem bulgarischen Thronfolger Kronprinzen Boris begleitet ein bei den Dobrudschkakämpfen hervorragend beteiligtes bulgarisches Regiment. (387) [Karte]: Kartenskizze zur Umklammerung Rumäniens. (387) [Abb.]: Im rumänischen Petroleumgebiet: Blick auf Petroleumquellen des Predealtales mit seinen unzähligen Petroleumtürmen (Sonden). (388) [Abb.]: Vorstoß deutscher Torpedobootstreitkräfte aus der Deutschen Bucht durch die Straße Dover-Calais bis zur Linie Folkestone-Boulogne im Kanal in der Nacht vom 26. auf den 27. Oktober 1916. ( - ) [Abb.]: Deutsche Flieger bewerfen die rumänische Hafenstadt Constanza am Vortage ihrer Einnahme mit Bomben. ([389]) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die unter König Karl I. von Rumänien erbaute große Donaubrücke bei Cernavoda, die von den Rumänen auf ihrem Rückzuge zerstört wurde. (2)Ein Teil der zerstörten Donaubrücke bei Cernavoda. (390) Die Vorbereitung der Friedenswirtschaft. (390) [Abb.]: Ein Bataillon schottischer Hochländer auf dem Marsche durch gebirgiges Gelände bei Saloniki. (391) Der deutsche Vorstoß in den Kanal. (392) [Abb.]: Vor der bulgarischen Kommandantur in Veles am Wardar. Die Vorderseite des Gebäudes zeigt zahlreiche Geschoßtreffer. (392) [Abb.]: Die malerisch am Wardar gelegene Stadt Veles in Mazedonien. (393) Helden der österreichisch-ungarischen Armee. (394) [Abb.]: Kommodore Michelsen, der Führer der deutschen Torpedobootstreitkräfte, die in der Nacht vom 26. auf den 27. Oktober 1916 aus der Deutschen Bucht durch die Straße Dover-Calais bis zur Linie Folkestone-Boulogne im Kanal vorstießen, wobei sie eine Anzahl feindlicher Vorpostendampfer und Zerstörer teils vernichteten, teils schwer beschädigten. (394) Feldgeistliche. (395) [3 Abb.]: (1)Seekadett Johann Ritter Fritsch v. Cronenwald, Flugzeugführer bei vielen erfolgreichen Unternehmungen, so am 2. August 1916 gegen italienische Luftfahrzeuge bei Durazzo. (2)Der in den österreichisch-ungarischen Tagesberichten mehrfach wegen seiner kühnen und erfolgreichen Seeflüge genannte Leutnant Gottfried Banfield. (3)Leutnant Karl Kaiser, der Held vom Monte Interrotto, der mit einer sechs Mann starken Patrouille 266 Italiener, darunter vier Offiziere, als Gefangene zurückbrachte. (395) [2 Abb.]: (1)Beim Feldgottesdienst. (2)Deutsche Feldgeistliche evangelischer und katholischer Konfession. (396) [Abb.]: Eine deutsche Kolonne mit Feldküche zieht durch ein Dorf vor Verdun. ( - ) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 123 (Heft 123) ([397]) [Abb.]: Besichtigung der Sommekämpfer. ([397]) [Abb.]: Eines der von den Franzosen an der Sommefront verwendeten schweren Geschütze, die auf fahrbare Gerüste aufgebaut sind und auf Geleisen schnell nach jeder beliebigen Stelle der Front geschafft werden können. (398) [2 Abb.]: (1)Verwendung farbiger Völker bei der Munitionsherstellung in Frankreich. (2)Verwendung farbiger Völker bei der Munitionsherstellung in Frankreich. (399) [Abb.]: Ein Opfer englischer Barberei. Kapitänleutnant Claus Hansen, Kommandant des deutschen Unterseebootes U 41, das am 24. September 1915 in der Nähe der Scillyinseln von einem englischen Dampfer unter amerikanischer Flagge vernichtet wurde. (400) [2 Karten]: (1)Kartenskizze zu den Kämpfen nördlich von Perconne bis zum 4. November 1916. (2)Kartenskizze zu den Kämpfen südlich von Perconne bis zum 4. November 1916. (400) [Abb.]: Störung englischen Fischfangs nördlich von Schottland durch ein deutsches Unterseeboot, das, plötzlich aus den Wellen auftauchend, die deutsche Kriegsflagge hißt und Befehl gibt, daß sich alle Fischermannschaften an Bord eines Fahrzeuges zu begeben haben, damit die übrigen sämtlich versenkt werden können. ([401]) [Abb.]: Feierliche Einholung der Leiche des Fliegerhauptmanns Bölcke. Die Eltern und Brüder begeben sich zur Totenfeier in die Kathedrale zu Cambrai. (402) [Karte]: Kartenskizze zu den Kämpfen am Karst. (403) [Abb.]: Eselkarren für den Wassertransport im Hochgebirge an der österreichisch-ungarischen Front gegen Italien. (403) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (404) Der Krieg in Ostafrika im August und September 1916. (404) [Abb.]: Mpapua in Deutsch-Ostafrika an der Usambarabahn, etwa 350 Kilometer westlich von Daresalam. (404) [2 Abb.]: (1)Ein Eingeborenendorf auf den Ulugurenbergen in Deutsch-Ostafrika. (2)Das Eingeborenenviertel von Kilossa in Deutsch-Ostafrika. (405) [Abb.]: Die Feste Mahenge in Deutsch-Ostafrika. Askari in Verteidigungstellung. (406) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Feste Tabora in Deutsch-Ostafrika. (2)Ein deutscher Militärkraftwagen in den Straßen von Daresalam in Deutsch-Ostafrika. (407) Die Grundlagen der britischen Seeherrschaft. (407) [Abb.]: Gefangennahme italienischer Truppen auf einem Berggipfel des Karstgebietes, der von österreichisch-ungarischen Soldaten im Sturm genommen wurde. ([408 409]) [Abb.]: Straßenverkehr in der von den deutschen Truppen besetzten russischen Stadt Lida. (410) [2 Abb.]: Auf dem großen Wochenmarkt von Lida in Rußland. (1)Deutsche Soldaten beim Einhandeln von Kälbern, in der Mitte die Marktpolizei (mit Armbinde). (2)In langen Reihen, wie ausgerichtet, stehen die Schlitten, auf denen die Landbevölkerung ihre Waren zu Markt bringt. (411) Leben und Treiben in der von den deutschen Truppen besetzten russischen Stadt Lida. (412) Französische Ritterlichkeit im Felde. (412) [Abb.]: Ein neuer Rettungsapparat für die Besatzung von Unterseebooten. (412) [Abb.]: Überfall des flüchtenden rumänischen Heeres am Roten Turm-Paß. ( - ) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 124 (Heft 124) ([413]) [Abb.]: General der Infanterie v. Beseler, Kaiserlicher Generalgouverneur von Warschau. ([413]) [Abb.]: Eine Abordnung von Offizieren der polnischen Legion im Hofe des alten polnischen Königschlosses in Warschau am Tage der Verkündigung des neuen Königreiches Polen, am 5. November 1916. (414) [2 Abb.]: (1)Generalmajor v. Woyna, unter dessen Führung am 9. November 1816 brandenburgische Truppen und das Infanterieregiment 401 in der Gegend von Skrobowa in etwa vier Kilometer Breite mehrere russische Verteidigungslinien stürmten und den Feind über den Skrobowabach zurückwarfen. (2)Blick auf Brzezany vom Kloster aus. (415) [Abb.]: Nach der Schlacht bei Brzezany. Der Zug der russischen Verwundeten wälzt sich unabsehbar über die vom Regen aufgeweichte Landstraße nach Osten. ([416 - 417]) [Abb.]: Deutsche Lazarettzelte auf der Paßhöhe des Prislop in den Waldkarpathen. (418) [2 Abb.]: (1)Beobachtender Offizier einer österreichisch-ungarischen Maschinengewehrabteilung während eines russischen Angriffs in den Waldkarpathen. (2)Feuernde Honvedfeldartillerie in den Siebenbürgischen Bergen. (419) [2 Abb.]: (1)Zerstörte Häuser in dem Kampfgebiet vor Predeal in Rumänien. (2)Deutsche Mörserbatterie beim Überschreiten der Grenzstraße vor Predeal. (420) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (420) Die Vorbereitung der Friedenswirtschaft. (420) [Abb.]: Die Erstürmung des von den Rumänen zäh verteidigten Bahnhofs von Predal am Nachmittag des 23. Oktober 1916. ([421]) [Abb.]: Gedenktafel des deutschen Alpenkorps am Eingang des Roten-Turm-Passes. (422) Die letzten Tage von Constanza. (423) [Abb]: Vogelschauansicht der rumänischen Hauptstadt Bukarest mit ihrem Festungsgürtel, der von einem deutschen Flugzeug mit Bomben belegt wird. (423) [2 Abb.]: (1)Übungen deutscher Artillerie auf dem Marsfelde von Konstantinopel. (2)Seine Exzellenz der türkische Kriegsminister Enver Pascha (X) und Admiral Souchon (XX), dem der Orden Pour le Mérite verliehen wurde, schreiten die Front türkischer Marinesoldaten ab. (424) [Abb.]: Einschiffung deutscher Truppen für die Suezkanal-Front im Goldenen Horn in Konstantinopel. ([425]) [Abb.]: Einige der von den Rumänen bei ihrer Vertreibung aus Constanza in Brand gesetzten Öltanks (der größte Teil der Anlagen blieb unversehrt). (426) Einschiffung am Goldenen Horn. (426) Die Franzosen an der Somme. (426) [Abb.]: Blick auf eine von türkischen und deutschen Soldaten belebte Landstraße in der Richtung nach Constanza. (427) [Abb.]: Vorbeimarsch deutscher Sturmtruppen an der Somme vor dem Deutschen Kaiser und dem Kronprinzen Rupprecht von Bayern. (428) Die Geschichte des Weltkrieges 1914/16. Heft 125 (Heft 125) ([429]) [Abb.]: Die Hauptstraße der nördlich der Somme gelegenen Stadt Bapaume, die infolge der Beschießung der Franzosen von den Einwohnern völlig geräumt wurde. ([429]) [Abb.]: Aus dem Kampfgebiet der Somme. (430) [2 Abb.]: (1)Sturmangriff deutscher Truppen an der Somme in der Gegend von Peronne. (2)Kriegsrat im Schützengraben an der Sommefront vor einem Erkundungsvorstoß. (431) [3 Abb.]: (1)Die Trümmer eines bei einem feindlichen Fliegerangriff auf süddeutsche Städte in der Rheinebene vernichteten französischen Großkampfflugzeuges und drei Motoren und einer Einrichtung zur Mitnahme von 30 Bomben. Die Größe des Flugzeuges läßt sich an den dabei stehenden Peronen erkennen. (2)Generalleutnant v. Höppner, bisher Führer einer Reservedivision, wurde zum Kommandierenden General der Luftstreitkräfte ernannt, da die wachsende Bedeutung des Luftkrieges es erforderlich machte, den Befehl über die gesamten Luftstreitkräfte und Flugzeug-Abwehrmittel des deutschen Heeres nur einer Dienststelle zu übertragen. (3)Nahansicht der zertrümmerten Motore des vernichteten französischen Großkampfflugzeuges. (432) [Abb.]: Abschuß englischer Flieger bei ihrem mißglückten Angriff auf Zeebrügge und Ostende am 10. November 1916. ([433]) [Abb.]: Ein neuartiges italienisches Panzerautomobil. (434) [Abb.]: Ein von den Italienern eroberter Schützengraben an der Karsthochfläche wird im Gegenangriff von k.u.k. Truppen zurückgewonnen. ([435]) Illustrierte Kriegsberichte. (436) Straßenkampf in Montigny. (436) [Karte]: Das serbisch-griechische Grenzgebiet zwischen Ochrida- und Doiran-See aus der Vogelschau. (436) [Abb.]: Wiedereroberung einer am 15. November 1916 von den Serben genommenen Höhe nordöstlich von Cegel. ([437]) Die Vorbereitung der Friedenswirtschaft. (438) [Abb.]: Im Sumpfgelände Wolhyniens. (438) Angriff der russischen transamurischen Division bei Kowel. (439) [Abb.]: Deutsche Husarenpatrouille in Wolhynien. (439) [Abb.]: Aus den Kämpfen um Kowel: Attacke der Transamur-Division gegen die deutschen und österreichisch-ungarischen Stellungen bricht im Sperrfeuer zusammen. ([440 - 441]) Der Feldzug in Siebenbürgen. (442) [2 Abb.]: (1)Die Reste eines abgeschossenen rumänischen Flugzeuges aus der Schlacht bei Hermannstadt in Siebenbürgen. (2)Besuch des Generalfeldmarschalls Erzherzog Friedrich (II) beim Armeekommandanten Falkenhayn (III) an der siebenbürgischen Front. General v. Morgen (I) hält dem Generalfeldmarschall Vortrag über die Kriegslage. (442) [Karte]: Vogelschaukarte zur Schlacht bei Hermannstadt. (443) [Karte]: Vogelschaukarte von Westrumänien. ( - ) [Rechnungsbeleg]: R. Pirngruber, F.S.L. Hof-Buch- und Kunsthändler, Linz, vom 22.VIII.1916 für 1 Ill. Geschichte d. Weltkrieges 101-110 über 3 K 80 h. ( - ) Einband ( - ) Einband ( - )