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Issue 60.3 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; Explorations Religious Life Heritages Faithful ~Witness MAY JUNE 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 3 Review for Re, ligious,helps people respond and he faithful to God's universal call to holiness by ~naking available t_o them the spiritual legacies tbat flow from the cbarisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: g~r,v.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2001 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this ~ssue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to t.he Editor, Review for Religious. for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann F~ppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling AdrianGaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Patricia Wittherg SC MAY JUNE 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 3 contents explorations 230 "Women Religious, Women Deacons? Phyllis Zagano explores why a woman, secular or religious, would seek ordination as a deacon and what questions this poses f6r the corporate life of a religious institute. 245 Confidentiality: Are Religious Superiors Always Bound? Vimal Tirimanna CSSR explores whether there are limits to the professional confidentiality to be kept by ministers and religious superiors and the need for appropriate norms and sanctions. 254 The Computer's Edge: Some Social and Ethical Concerns Linda Herndon OSB introduces some of the s~cial and ethical issues in the computer world, raising some questions, and proposing some practical responses, to stimulate further discussion. 262 269 religious life Authenticity and Contact with Youth Robert P. Maloney CM calls for an asceticism of authenticity that engages and challenges young people in their passion for Christ. Obedience: Vow and Virtue in Our Contemporary World Kathy Dunne RC looks at the vow of obedience as it is born of love, forms us as lovers, and bears the fruit of love. Review for Religious 277 286 heritages ¯ Mechthild of Magdeburg's Spiritual Pilgrimage William C. Zehringer traces the complex pilgrimage story of the medieval mystic Mechthild of Magdeburg. The Poverello's Legacy Bonaventure Stefun OFMCap gives many Franciscan exemplars of poverty as lived through the centuries, all united by Francis's key notion of attachment to Jesus. 295 308 faithful witness Here I Am You Called Me? Marie Beha OSC delves into the meaning of presence, considering especially how we might respond more fully to God and to others. Leap Over the Wall: Why Did I Not? Mary Anne Huddleston IHM offers her personal witness to the commitment value of consecrated life. departments 228 Prisms 314 Canonical Counsel: Requirements for Temporary Profession 320 Book Reviews May-June 2001 prisms To opposing tendencies vie within us from the very beginning of life. Human beings are described as always struggling to stay within the comfort life of the womb and yet pushing to find a con-tinuing newness of life outside the womb. We rejoice in the known, the familiar, what has always been, the traditional. We can be enlivened also by the unknown, what is new and untried, the innovative. A healthy passage between these two human tendencies is caught up in the activity called exploration. Our growth as chil-dren came through exploration; we grow as adults only if we continue regularly to experience the exploratory passage, a passage that joins the past to the future. When John Paul II made his appeal for a new evan-gelization, it was an exploratory call. It was not imme-diately evident to all of us Catholics how far this call extended. We are beginning to realize that a new evan-gelization takes in not just ways of proclaiming the gospel that are effective for our time but also ways of celebrating that proclamation. The latest revisioning of the sacramentary and lectionary is a part of this continuing renewal of our efforts in celebrating the Eucharist as the central mystery of our faith. We con-tinue to explore the passage between the liturgical rites as we have known them and a new formulation of these rites that may more effectively help today's people understand their meaning in relation to contemporary patterns of thought and expectation. A liturgical spirituality rightly has pride of place. But so-called "popular" devotions are important too. In the Roman Catholic Latin rite, expression found in liturgical prayer usually remains formal, with feelings restricted and subjective emotions set aside--whatever the vernacular translation. The more personal and emo- Review for Reli#ous tive piety that was characteristic of Catholic devotional life in the 19th and 20th centuries--expressed in popular language and images--necessarily had to recede in importance after Vatican Council II. The explorations central to our faith expression in baptism, Eucharist, and reconciliation focused all of our worship-ing energy. Marian devotions, Sacred Heart devotions, Eucharistic holy hours, and Stations of the Cross suffered a time of eclipse. Granted that the central place of the Eucharistic celebration and the other sacraments has been properly positioned for us Catholics, we are now enabled to express our persistent hunger and need to nourish our Catholic life also in nonliturgical or, perhaps more positively, more personal and popular ways. As an integral part of our actively entering into our new evangelization, we need to explore devotions that do not seem to be relics of the past, but rather are "new" prayerful ways of celebrating our faith that express the yearnings of our hearts today. What form will these explorations take? We cannot say since devotional life is so much shaped by the social and cultural milieu in which we live. Devotions need contemporary imaging, vocal expressions, and musical or quasi-musical rhythms that appeal to today's people. For example, does the May procession and crown-ing of Mary as queen--a memory many Catholics treasure-- emphasize rather the distancing of Mary from our daily experience rather than her closeness? What may have been "devotional" at a particular time may not be a fitting expression and imaging today. Does a 40-hour Eucharistic devotion fit the rhythm of our social milieu or would a 7 p.m.zto-12 midnight or a 24-hour, all-night vigil speak better? We need to explore how these "old" devotions can be truly a part of our new evangelization; our exploration is an effort to stretch personal and group memories into personal and group hopes and expressions. We may look to the renewal of some of our older devotions such as the devotion to the Sacred Heart (identified of old with the month of June) or we may seek to honor and find our own life-inspiration by devotions expressed for one of our newly canon-ized saints who combines charity with a j3rophetic thirst for justice. Regardless, we are responding to the call for a new evangelization. Exploration is necessary for a faith that is alive and well. No, bet-ter said, exploration is necessary for us believers who want to grow in our maturity in Christ. David L. Fleming SJ May-~une 2001 explorations PHYLLIS ZAGANO Women Religious, Women Deacons? In recent years, discussion about Catholic women's ordi-nation has centered on the priesthood, and the diaconate " has been seen primarily as a step toward priesthood. The official opposition to the ordination of women as priests is well and widely known. But the official position on the ordination of women to the diaconate is that it is "under study." Conflict about the impossibility of women becoming pries(s has obscured the possibility of their becoming deacons even though, after the revival of the per.manent diaconate in the West, the concept of permanent women deacons found significant support.~ Today wtrldwide requests by individuals and groups to have'women ordained to serve the people of God strengthen the notion that the church could restore the female diaconate.2 Such possi-bility, if not probability, provides the opportunity for apostolic institutes and individual religious t6 question whether ordination would be appropriate for them cor-porately, or individually, or both. Phyllis Zagano is founding cochair of the Roman Catholic Studies Group of.the American Academy of Religion and author most recently of.Holy Saturday: An ,qrgument for the Restoration of the Female Diaconafe in tbe Catholic Church (Crossroad). She can be reached c/o Crossroad Publishing Company; 481 Eighth Avenue, #1550; New York, N.Y. 10011; and at pzagano@rcn.com. Review for Religious Why would a woman, secular or religious, wish to be ordained? There is significant resistance among women to becoming involved in a system widely viewed as patriarchal, especially in what is arguably a subservient role. Some say there is no need for ordi-nation, since everything a deacon does can be done with special permission by a lay person. Some focus on other issues. Others say the diaconate is not enough. The answers that affirm a woman's request for diaconal ordi-nation are as individual as each person's vocation to live a life of prayer and service. The unfolding of a single lifelong quest for God has many different layers, and vocations often grow in unex-pected directions. The deacon's vocation is to a life as "minister of the word, of the liturgy, and of charity.''3 Numbers of women's institutes find one or another of these calls, perhaps all, in their founding documents. In fact, women religious are always involved in works of charity, as they can be most broadly described, and their service is similar if not identical to that of deacons. Hence, why should women religious not be formally present and repre-sented in the liturgy? It is women religious who most clearly and most publicly enflesh the gospel. Why should they not proclaim it at Mass and explain, it in a homily? Realistically speaking, women religious are increasingly involved in diaconal work and works, and the charism of orders could only strengthen their commitments and their service. The church itself, both informally and formally, has called forth women to expressly diaconal work and works, that is, work and works that could be more fully served by women deacons. As Doris Gottemoeller RSM pointed out a few years ago, women religious are increasingly parochialized~ to the point that hundreds are parish administrators and are also increasingly involved in professional institutional chaplaincy. Further, official Vatican documents repeat-edly call for inclusion of women in official roles in the church.4 As more women are more involved (even t~ull-time) in diaconal ministries, the need to ordain them becomes clearer, in order to better serve the people of God. For example, there are obvious drawbacks when a woman religious working as a pastoral associate or chaplain does not have the ordinary authority to celebrate bap-tisms solemnly, or witness marriages, or preach, or fully lead litur-gical prayer, all of which ordained deacons do when they have standard faculties.5 If women religious are already serving in clerical roles, why not May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? add diaconal ordination to their religious charisms? Perhaps obvi-ously the answer is that the nature of lay religious life is different from the nature of clerical religigus life. For an apostolic insti-tute to ordain members, or to incorporate new members already ordained, would imply a change in its nature. Since the church in the West might at any time return to its tradition of a permanent female diaconate, these considerations are real. Even if only hypo-thetically for now, women religious might individually and cor-porately consider the possibilities and consequences of ordination. Six questions asked by the ordaining prelate in the liturgy of ordination combine to form the perfect discernment tool with regard to religious life and the diaconate. The considerations given below do not and could not cover the combinations and permu-tations in every individual case. But they can open the door to additional individual or group discernment on this important pos-sibility. Can a woman religious answer yes to these six questions? More importantly, should she? 1. Are you willing to be ordained for the church's ministry by the laying on of hands and the gift of the Holy Spirit? The woman who might be ordained would be ordained to ministry--of the word, the liturgy, and of charity. A woman reli-gious, therefore, would have the nature of her public Commitment permanently changed. The ordination to ministry would not nec-essarily replace her celibate commitment to a life of prayer and service within her apostolic religious institute, but it would change it. Here she is asked to be available not only for the works of char-ity for which deacons are known, but for "the church's mi.nistry"-- the church's pastoral ministry--of baptizing, marrying, preaching, and burying the dead. This question asks if the deacon candidate will accept the pro-fessional obligations of ministry. The church's pastoral ministry already includes many apostolic women religious; they are pas-toral associates, performing almost every work an associate pastor might. In ~iddition, women religious run the parish soup kitchen and family center, oversee catechetics and the RCIA program. The gradual shift during the last century by institutes of apostolic reli-gious from teaching or nursing in their own institutions to other historically usual works of the deacon, often within the diocesan structure, underscores the whole church's calling women to wider ministries. Women, and especially women religious, are indeed doing the work of ordained deacons. But they are not ordained. As Review for Religious I have argued elsewhere, it is not desirable for the church to con-fuse vows with ordination,6 and so I would argue here that those who are already involved in "the church's ministry" might consider the strengthening of their pastoral charisms through ordination. For the sake of discussion, we can assume that the majority of women religious who would seek diaconal ordination would also choose to remain members of their own religious institutes. Their vocational discernment would need to separate the charism of celibacy in consecrated life from the charism of ordained diaconal life, which does not require celibacy, and from the charism of celibate ordained life. While the vocation to celibate life in community is not identical to the vocation to ordained life, the two vocations are not mutually exclusive. That is, consecrated celibacy and ecclesial ministry are not mutually exclusiye, but each requires separate consideration and support. As Sandra Schneiders has recently pointed out, a "coherent theological framework within which prayer, sacramental life, and ministry make sense in themselves and in relation to each other is cru-cial to the relationship with Jesus Christ that alone justifies com-mitment in consecrated, celibacy that is at the heart of religious life.''7 By contrast, professional ministerial commitment is open to all, celibate or married, "~ho find themselves called to identify with the ministry of Christ: The charism of celibacy can be seen as analogous but not identical to the deacon's call to be minister of the word, the liturgy, and of charity. Again, the call to diaconal ministry does not nec-essarily include celibacy. While the charism of consecrated celibacy might be more broadly experienced by the church if the majority of ordained women religious remained in their institutes, as such this charism should not be confused with the separate and distinct call to diaconal orders. The call to the diaconate is specifically and primarily "f6r the church's ministry," not for an apostolic min-istry arising from celibate commitment within a religious .insti- I would argue that those who are already involved in "the church's ministry" might consider the s~rengthening of their pastoral charisms through ordination. May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? tute, even though the two calls may coexist in one person and in one institute. The operative points in this question are whether and how the woman religious would participate in the church's ministry while remaining a member of her institute. Those are matters of discernment to be taken up by her,.her superior, and--if she is the first of her institute to ask to be ordained--by the chapter of her institute. 2. Are you resolved to discharge the office of deacon with humility and love in order to assist the bishop and the priests and to serve the people of Christ? There is an ancient document in which a bishop sets forth the qualities necessary for women to be ordained deacons. His major concern is that they be able to get along with the priests.9 Church history, then and now, is replete with examples of ten-sions between priests and deacons. Humility is not humiliation, but many contemporary deacons suffer the latter in their relations with priests, who in many cases just do not know what to do with them and are often threatened by their presence. These insecuri-ties will not be cured by adding ordained women to the mix, but they might be overcome through hard work and loving consider-ation on both sides. There is no question that priests need assis-tance in the pastoral care of souls, and many have learned how to effectively and professionally accept the assistance both of women, secular and religious, and of deacons; the new challenge would be to accept the assistance of women deacons. But the diaconate is not the priesthood, and an objection to the church's potential returning of women to the ranks of ordained deacons (without creating women priests) is that the women dea-cons would still be serving in subordinate positions to men. In many cases, of course, this is true. Yet significant numbers of men serve in the same subordinate positions to other men. Also, many deacons serve in leadership positions in rural dioceses and mis-sion territories. The many women serving in similar situations would be able.to expand their ministries if they were ordained. One source of tension between priests and deacons might dis-appear if the majority of women ordained were to remain as mem-bers of their religious institutes. Currendy most permanent deacons are married. Very few of the unmarried deacons are religious, pointing to a clear distinction between the vocations even though they are combined in the lives of some individuals. There are Review for Religious 25,345 deacons in 129 countries around the world, of whom 514, or two percent, are religious,l° In contrast, there are 404,208 priests in the world, of whom 140,687, or thirty-five percent, are reli-gious, l' These statistics seem to indicate that the distinction between celibate secular and religious life among the ordained is clear, but the vocations are not mutually exclusive. Whether thirty-three percent (the percentage of religious among today's deacons and priests) of the women ordained to the diaconate would become or remain members of religious insti-tutes is, of course, unknown. It is not likely that women candidates for the dia-conate would come mostly from women religious. Rather, many older married women and widows might seek to ratify and intensify through diaconal ordina-tion their commitments to their current volunteer or professional service of the people of God as catechists, lectors, Eucharistic ministers,.and chaplains or pastoral associates. Similarly, young Catholic women now in master-of-divin-ity programs in Protestant and Catholic .seminaries might seek diaconal ordination. Current statistics on lay catechists and other church workers suggest that seventy per-cent of women deacons would be married or single seculars and thi'rty percentof women deacons would be members of religious institutes. The challenge to all the women who envision possible ordi-nation to the diaconate is to recognize with h.umility and love that, practically speaking, they would be assisting the priests, but that their reason for being ordained is to serve the people of God. 3. Are you resolved to hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience, as the Apostle urges, and to proclaim this faith in word and action as it is taught by the gospel and the church's tradition? A significant number of the women presently engaged in min-isterial studies are in programs at denominational or interde-nominational Protestant seminaries. There are many reasons for this. Such seminaries are generally in cities, often near or even attached to major" universities, and therefore accessible. These seminaries are often well endowed, and they have substantial schol- It is not likely that women candidates for the diaconate would come mostly from women religious. May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? arship programs available to women. And master-of-divinity pro-grams at American Catholic seminaries, and specifically at dioce-san seminaries, are not generally available to women. VChile many Catholic seminaries have a second-track "institute" that allows those who are not candidates for priesthood to study with the same faculty, the training offered is not identical and formation possibilities are often minimal. The extraordinary success of the programmatic exceptions to these general statements proves the thirst of many for professional training and ministry formation by and for Catholics. But, in fact, many Catholic women have studied and continue to study at Protestant seminaries; they are or soon will be ministering in dia-conal roles throughout the country. Not all are fully convinced of all church teachings, and their Protestant training has not pro-vided support for such acceptance. It remains to be seen whether they could be resolved to hold with a clear conscience "the mys-tery of the faith., and the church's tradition." The controversial issues that secular women students and min-isters presently consider, sometimes outside the boundaries of ordinary church teaching, might not be so prevalent among reli-gious, or at least among women religious who might be ordained to the diaconate. Even so, there are current ways of discussing certain topics, principally homosexuality, abortion, contraception, and priestly ordination for women, that could render women can-didate~ ineligible for diaconal ordination. Further, there are mis-conceptions and misperceptions about certain church dogmas, from Eucharist to original sin, that would similarly end an indi-vidual candidacy on its merits rather than on the question of gen-der. If these variant positions are indelibly held, for whatever reason, then the woman in question might still be able to minis-ter as a lay catechist--as many currently do--without diaconal ordination. In fact, some might considerdiaconal ordination a hindrance to ministry rather than an enhancement. There is a trend toward this way of thinking among some women in the church. The issue is not necess~arily bound up with any of the neuralgic questions listed above; it is, rather, managing to live a ministerial life without entering the hierarchy or, bluntly, the "male" system. The individual woman not in diaconal orders is in no way bound to the bishop and need not fear his pro-nouncements except insofar as she is employed by him or by one of his parishes or agencies. Even so, many parishes and agencies Review for Religious retain employees whose full consent with all church teaching is neither required nor requested, except perhaps officially. Any effort by an individual bishop to formally require such consent is viewed as draconian at best, and so short-staffed bishops in good economic times can tend to let well enough alone, and not enter too deeply into parish and agency employee matters. The woman, secular or religious, who would seek diaconal orders would have to answer some difficult questions in her own heart and mind about Magisterial teaching, not the least of which would be the theological anthropology, history, sacramental the-ology, and ecclesiology that would allow her to be ordained a deacon while refusing her priestly orders. Hence there is every possibility that individual women can-didates for ordination might have problems when asked if they "hold the mystery of the faith with a clear conscience, as the Apostle urges, and [will] proclaim this faith in word and action as it is taught by the gospel and the church's tradition." 4. Are you resolved to maintain and deepen a spirit of prayer appropriate to your way of life and, in keeping with what is required of you, to celebrate faithfully the liturgy of the hours for the church and for the whole world? This is an interesting consideration for apostolic women reli-gious. The celebration of the liturgy of the hours generally required of all clerics includes the office of readings, morning prayer, one daytime prayer, evening prayer, and night prayer. Though this fourth question includes some interesting phrases, "appropriate to your way of life" and "in keeping with what is required of you," one can .assume that up to an hour of each day is expected to be devoted to the liturgy of the hours, in addition to the time given to the liturgy of the Eucharist and any private meditation, scripture study, and spiritual reading. This is a significant commitment of time. Contemplative and monastic orders celebrate the full liturgy either publicly (spending considerably more than an hour) or both privately and publicly, but many apostolic women religious are no longer accustomed to praying even a portion of the liturgy of the hours, even privately. Along with their living more in nontradi-tional settings, formal prayer in choir has diminished. These changes in institutional religious life at first created a growth medium for different types of communal prayer, often developed by individuals 6r by individual communities. Continued changes May-ffune 2001 Zagano ¯ Wonten Religious, Wotnen Deacons? in communal life, however, have often led to the dropping even of these individualized prayer services from daily to perhaps monthly gatherings, usually with members of 'an intentional prayer group rather than with the "same roof' community. Each permutat!on moves apostolic religious farther from the tradition of praying the liturgy of the hours "for the church and for the whole world," both publicly and privately. A woman religious who would accept the obligations of the liturgy of the hours might find herself limited by time and space from participating in the life-giving communal prayer that nour-ished her desire to seek ordination in the first place. It wouid be as difficult to choose one or the other as it would be to choose both. Where the development of differing types of communal prayer for and among women religious has in many cases created opportunities for growth, it has also intensified the male-female divide, where most of the men (as clerics) and most of th~ women (as apostolic religious) have habits of prayer that are distinct from each other. (In North America, as is true worldwide, there are about twice as many apostolic women religious as priests, secular or religious.12) One would think, therefore, that the obligation to pray the liturgy of the hours might present a challenge to women. But, while all clerics are obliged to celebrate the liturgy of the hours, diocesan directors of diaconate programs state that few deacons do. This is the import of the phrases "appropriate to your way of life" and "in keeping with what is required of you." Typical married working deacons are sincerely encouraged to pray at least thd "hinges" of the day: morning and evening prayer, and night prayer too. Many, if not most, cannot pray the office of readings. Some cannot attend daily Mass. Some do not engage daily in extended personal prayer or scripture reading. While this information is anecdotal at best, it seems little would be actually added to the schedule of a woman religious, whose personal and communal practices probably already exceed those of the typical deacon. So this question could clearly be answered in the affirmative by the. woman religious who sought ordination to the diaconate. 5. Are you resolved to shape your way of life always according to the example of Christ, whose bo.dy and blood you will give to the people? The question is deceptively simple for women religious, whose lives are a constant endeavor to conform their whole' beings to Review for Religious Christ. That they have been engaged in such a struggle for their entire adult lives creates in some cases a distance between them and most secular candidates for the permanent diaconate or the priest-hood. While the emphasis in religious formation is on formation, and in seminary training on training, deacon candidates do receive a certain amount of formation. But religious formation-- focusing as it does, or at least has done, on prayer, life in community, and participation in institutional ministries--creates a qualitative dif-ference that is sometimes strikingly obvious. Many personal qualities stressed in the formation of women religious can translate positively to ordained diaconal service, just as in the case of the ordained service of men religious. A specific attitude of prayer, and selfless ded-ication to mission, are sometimes difficult to obtain later in life, especially by married candidates for orders who have the complica-tions of their secular lives to deal with: spouses, children, grandchil-dren, mortgages, careers, and political life. Of course, the differences can be seen both positively and nega-tively. Since the secular laity con-stitute ninety-nine percent of the church, one might argue that, rather than from among women religious, deacons ought be taken from among mature lay people. One might theorize that some of today's criticisms of celibate sec-ular (male) priests would be leveled at celibate secular (female) deacons. Criticisms of religious priests, which could be equally leveled at religious deacons, often revolve around the apparent and sometimes real financial and personal security of priests and religious. Secular lay persons often complain of a sort of "macu-lar degeneration" in the worldview of religious, ~ blindness to cer-tain exigencies of secular life, a chasm of nonunderstanding. While religious, as countercultural witnesses to the gospel, must be inde-pendent of political exigencies, they must recognize and constandy guard against such blindness. The very fact that women religious are personally and financially free to give prophetic witness to unpopular causes runs the risk of overpowering the poor, whom they most wish to serve. Criticism comes easily, and, since no one Many personal qualities stressed in the formation of women religious can translate positively to ordained diaconal service. ~lay-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? knows precisely what it means to be a woman deacon, these shoals and narrows must be viewed as opportunities. The delicate nature of ministry is enclosed in this question: Can the candidate for the diaconate shape a "way of life always according to the example of Christ"? It would be a radical chal-lenge for a woman religious to continue to live her religious pro-fession completely and freely while adding the responsibility of living out the charism of orders. Would she better continue to serve as a lay religious in commitment to the gospel, or would she better combine that commitment with the charism of ordained service? Beyond, would she better incorporate in her religious life and ministry the charism of ordained diaconal service, for which there is little precedent? In fact, the spiritual!ty of the diaconate is not well developed. For the deacon, what does it Mean to shape a way of life according to the example of Christ? What does it mean to shape a way of life according to the example of Christ for the woman who would be a deacon, and who would be considered in rank with other mostly married male deacons? These are questions that will.really only be answered by the first few women deacons. Practically speaking, it may only be women religious who are available to make the rad-ically prophetic choice to be ordained and serve as deacons in what are mostly uncharted waters. 6. Do you promise respect and obedience to me and my successors? Ordained women religious would remain bound to their supe-riors; ordained secular women would become bound to their dioce-san bishop. When asked of secular candidates, this question would bind a woman to her bishop for all matters: assignments, faculties, man-ner of dress, and so forth, and through him to the universal law of the church. The ordination of secular women to the diaconate would create a class of women whose ministry would be specifically at the disposal of the diocesan bishop. However, when a religious is ordained to the diaconate, this last question refers only to the religious superior and is generally rephrased to reflect the obedience of vowed religious. Only the religious superior gives permission to a member to be ordained; only the religious superior decides what work the religious cleric will take up. No bishop may unilaterally assign a religious to a work, and the local ordinary has authority and jurisdiction only Review for Religqous over what is done in his name, for example, the celebration of liturgies and sacraments (baptisms, marriages, and so forth) and actual work within the diocesan structure. Practically speaking, there may be no advantage to orders for the woman religious outside the diocesan ~tructure, because any-thing she might do that requires clerical status (with the possible exception of preaching homilies at Eucharistic liturgies) would be done in the name of the bishop and with his permission. So the determination here would be whether her religious superior would find ordination necessary for the individual religious's assigned work. That said, there are women reli-gious in the diocesan structure, and the needs of the people of God whom they serve as pastoral associates, tri-bunal judges, chancellors, and chap-lains would be better addressed by a more permanent.authorization, rather than by temporary or ad hoc lay juriso diction.13 The deeper question regarding the ordination of wtmen religious centers on authority and jurisdiction within the religious institute. Institutes of consecrated life are either diocesan or pontifical. Neither is exempt from obedience to ordinaries in matters pertaining to their episcopal authority, but superiors and chapters of institutes retain their power over their members, even if some or all of their members are clerics (canon 596). Canon Law provides for only two types of religious institutes: clerical and lay (canon 588). While, stricdy speaking, clerical insti-tutes must be headed by clerics, men's institutes that include lay brothers have obtained rescripts, or special permissions, to include brothers in their governments. These rescripts indicated that a clerical member of the institute be designated to carry out acts of jurisdiction requiring orders, and it is not clear the need would arise if the only clerical members were deacons. Since the Second Vatican Council, lay institutes have been able to allow members to be ordained without changing the nature of the institutes from lay to clerical.'4 After the 1994 Synod on Consecrated Life, Pope John Paul II established a special com-mission to study jurisdiction questions within mixed (clerical-and- The deeper question regarding the ordination of women religious centers on authority and jurisdiction within the religious institute. Zagano ¯ Women Religious, Women Deacons? lay) institutes, but the provision for lay institutes to remain lay while allowing some of their members to be ordained already exists. So there is no need to assume that the woman religious deacon would automatically cause her institute to give up its essen-tially lay status by allowing her ordination.'s The considerations implied by this final question about respect for and obedience to the ordaining prelate include whether insti-tutes might admit women who were previously ordained. Canon law provides for these exigencies in the case of men previously ordained who wish to enter religious orders, and there is no reason to think, theoretically at least, that ordained secular women could not become members of apostolic institutes of women religious. In discerning her vocation to orders, however, a woman religious would have to discern whether she would choose ordi-nation over membership, should her institute in chapter decline to include ordained members or should her superior decline to give her permission to be ordained. This presents a radical challenge of both vocation and obedience, and underscores the authority of superiors and chapters. These painful possibilities of growth are facts of life. Some women religious might be required to choose between ordination and their religious institutes, but not necessarily between ordi-nation and religious life. Women religious who chose orders over membership might well form new religious institutes, either wholly clerical or clerical-and-lay, creating a new expression of religious life. The larger consideration for women religious corporately is their insertion in the lay state. While canon law says that by its very nature religious life is neither clerical nor lay, women religious can rightly claim "outsider" status to the hierarchical system, even though their public pronouncements and political involvements are identically restricted. It is both significant and interesting that most women's institutes are more clearly led by the Leadership Conference of Women Religious than by the National Conference of Catholic Bishops. This is not new: monastics have always sought to be independent of local ordinaries. Whether ordained women religious would shift the balance of an institute remains t6 be seen, but their ordination would clearly depend, among other things, upon the needs of their institute and of the church at large. In this matter the specific charism incorporated in lay religious insti-tutes would need to be guarded, and an institute's decision against Review for Religious their members' becoming ordained would probably depend chiefly upon such a safeguard. Women religious, especially in the United States, are poised in a particular moment of freedom to raise their voices in defense of the poor and the marginalized. Though they comprise an aging population--the median age is approximately sixty-nine--women religious might, in prophetic witness to the gospel, decide that as lay religious they have nothing left to lose and clerical status might change that.~6 But, then again, it might not. The church needs the service of women and of all who would seriously take up the challenge of the gospel. One might say, "Would that all God's people were prophets!" Let us acknowledge that some women religious might better serve as clerics, and others not. Either choice is prophetic. Notes ~ The 1971 report of a committee of the Catholic Theological Society of America, "The Office of Deacon as a Lifetime State," recommended ordaining women deacons and was printed in American Ecclesiastical Review (March 1971), Crux (19 March 1971), Worship (April 1971), and Catholic Mind (May 1971). See also Clergy Review 56 (1971): 891-893. Additional contemporary discussion on the topic can be found in Agnes Cunningham SSCM, "Women and the Diaconate," American Ecclesiastical Review 165 (1971): 158-166; Peter HiJnermann, "Note: Conclusions Regarding the Female Diaconate," Theological Studies 36 (1975): 325- 333; A.M. Tortras, "Women Priests or Women Deacons?" Theology Digest 29, no. 3 (Fall 1981), translation of "~Mujeres Presbftero o Mujeres Di~cono? Apuntes para una Ordenaci6n de la Mujer," Estudios Eclesifisticos 55, no. 214 (1980): 355-368. ' I have presented an argument from theological anthropology, sacra-mental theology, history, ecclesiology, and law in Phyllis Zagano, Holy Saturday: An Argument for the Restoration of the Female Diaconate in the Catholic Church (Crossroad/Herder, 2000). 3 Roman Ritual, Ordination of Deacons. 4 Doris Gottemoeller RSM, "The Priesthood: Implications in Consecrated Life for Women," in A Concert of Charisms: Ordained Ministry in Religious Life, ed. Paul K. Hennessy CFC (New York: Paulist Press, 1997), pp. 127-138. s The Archdiocese of Anchorage, Alaska, first received a renewable rescript to allow lay persons to solemnly baptize and to witness mar-riages in 1990. A few women religious who are administrators of rural parishes and two other lay person.s have been so authorized on a case-by-case basis. 6 Zagano, Holy Saturday, pp. 142-145. 7 Sandra M. Schneiders IHM, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic May-June 2001 Zagano ¯ Women-Religious, Women Deacons? Religious Life in a New Ecdesial and Cultural Context (New York: Paulist Press, 2000), p. 149. 8 Schneiders rightly points out that the specific charism of celibacy for religious is distinct from the unmarried state of the secular cleric. 9 Apostolic Canons of the Church, canon 21. See Josephine Mayer, Monumenta de viduis diaconissis virginibusque tractantia (Bonn: P. Hanstein, 1938), which includes a significant collection of early documents about women deacons. 10 "The Permanent Diaconate Today," A Research Report by the Bis}~ops' Committee on the Diaconate of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops and by the Center for Applied Research on the Apostolate (June 2000), p. 2. " 2000 Catholic Almanac (Huntington: Our Sunday Visitor, 2000), p. 345, citing Statistical Yearbook of the Church, 1997. 12 There are 819,279 sisters and 404,208 priests. Statistics do not dif-ferentiate between women religious who are "sisters" in apostolic insti-tutes and those who were formerly called "nuns" in cloistered orders. 2000 Catholic Almanac, p. 345. 13 A committee of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious, drawing on the LCWR "Benchmarks" study, is analyzing lay jurisdiction. See Jeanean D. Merkel, ed., Creating a Home: Benchmarks for Church Leadership Roles for Women (Silver Spring, Md.: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1996). 14 Canon Law Society of America, The Canonical Implications of Ordaining Women to the Permanent Diaconate (Washington, D.C.: Canon Law Society of America, 1995), pp. 47-48, citing Vatican Council II, Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life (Perfectae caritatis), §10. See also Paul Vl, Sacrum diaconatus ordinem, §32, which provides for religious institutes to have some permanent deacons among their members. ~s Territorial monasteries of women present a special case because their prioresses and abbesses have historically had quasi-episcopal author-ity. For the sake of the argument here, we consider only apostolic insti-tutes of women. t6 As of 30 December 1999, the median age of women religious in the United States was 68.49, up from 67.87 in the previous year, according to a study commissioned by the National Religious Retirement Office, Washington, D.C. Review for Religious VIMAL TIRIMANNA Confidentiality: Are Religious Superiors Always Bound? In the Catholic tradition the superiors or animators of reli- .~. gious congregations and communities are expected to respect confidentiality, especially with regard to delicate personal, infor-mation regarding members, to which they have relatively easy access. In church discipline, howdver, there is no official sanction or limit attached to this conventional norm. On the one hand, if a superior violates such confidentiality and thus damages the good name of the confiding member, there are no clear prescriptions in the church's universal law about how the superior is to be dealt with. On the other hand, it is not officially established how a supe-rior ought to act when a member violates the confidentiality and unjustly damages the good name of the superior. Is it only the superior who.is bound by confidentiality? Or, when a member vio-lates confidentiality and damages:the superior's good name (or anyone else's), is the superior still bound by confidentiality? In this essay I attempt to answer these questions, using tradi-tional Catholic moral principles. First I illustrate the point at stake with a real incident well known among religious in Sri Lanka. Then I briefly analyze this kind of confidentiality in terms of its close associate, the professional secret. I examine why conflden- Vimal Tirimanna CSSR is provincial of his congregations's Sri Lankan province and president of the Conference of Major Superiors of Sri Lanka. His address is: 80, Amfritiya Road; Kandy; Sri Lanka. May-.]une 2001 Tirimanna ¯ Confidentiality tiality is essential in certain professions and ministries. Finally I examine whether such professional secrecy always binds the pro-fessional, the minister, the religious superior. A Real Case In 1998 two temporarily professed seminarians (one for four years, one for three) belonging to a clerical religious congrega-tion wrote to their major superior for his approval of their going out to do secular work for a couple of years and thereby testing their vocations. Since the formators and the superiors were already having some serious doubts about these two seminarians' suit-ability for consecrated life, the major superior, with his council's consent, readily approved the request. In the same year another seminarian (temporarily professed for two years) applied for dis-pensation within a week of renewing his vows, saying he Wanted to help his family financially by getting a.secular job. After much hesitation and dialogue, the major superior together with his coun-cil granted the dispensation. At the beginning of the year 2000, all three of these seminar-ians-- with the help of a former, major superior of the same con-gregation (who had been living outside his community illegitimately ever since he left office) and a disgruntled priest member of the same congregation (who had been illegitimately ~bsent for almost two years)--applied to join a diocese in Australia. All three were accepted for the diocese without any consultation of their major superior. The major superior wrote to the Congregation for Catholic Education in Rome, inquiring whether such circumventing of him by the bishop was licit. The Roman congregation asked the bishop for an explanation, and the bishop brought this to the notice of the three seminarians. In the mean-time the disgruntled priest member, living in the same diocese, got hold of the three seminarians and together they wrote a letter to Rome maligning the good name of the present major superior, their intention being to belittle his credibility in the eyes of the Roman dicastery and thus influence the latter's decision. The major superior's predecessor also wrote a letter, to the bishop in Australia, holding the present major superior responsible for the "ruin" of the congregation in Sri Lanka, especially for the dwindling number of members, and charging that it was the same superior's ruth-lessness that drove the three seminarians away from the congre- Review for Religious gation. He sent copies of the letter to several bishops and major superiors in Sri Lanka, obviously with the intention of eroding fur-ther the credibility of the major superior. Note here that the major superior, together with his council, had already initiated a canon-ical process against the disgruntled priest who was illegitimately absent in Australia and against the ex-major superior, also illegiti-mately absent from his religious community. Could this be their, way of settling scores with the major superior? On his part, the Australian bishop sent a copy of this let-ter of the ex-major superior to the above-mentioned Roman dicastery to justify his action of not consulting the major supe-rior before he accepted the three semi-narians to his diocese. After weighing all the matters at stake, the Congregation for Catholic Education instructed the Australian bishop, to consult the Sri Lankan major superior, saying that, acc.ording to the accepted official prac-tice, he ought to have consulted him before taking those three seminarians into his diocese. Apparently the Roman congrega-tion's stipulation to consult the major superior at least at that late stage was the only way of settling the issue in a spirit of Christian charity. But what about the damage this entire episode caused to the major superior? His good name was unjustly tarnished, and he had no way of defending himself, which was surely a legitimate right of his. As the major superior, he could not simply divulge certain vital information regarding the three seminarians and two priests-- which would have given the other side of the story and defended him. He was bound by confidentiality. Ironically, confidentiality, which normally serves to protect the good name of the persons involved, has in this case served to silence the major superior and prevent him from defending his own good name. In the light of this real-life situation, one may ask: In religious life, should con-fidentiality serve all the members of a congregation except supe-riors? Should superiors be the victims of confidentiality? Are there circumstances when the superiors would not be bound to confi-dentiality? In religious life, should confidentiality serve all the members of a congregation except superiors ? May-ffune 2001 Tirimanna ¯ Confidentiality What Is Confidentiality? The term confi'dentiality normally has to do with keeping secrets. Something becomes confidential when a private matter is imparted in secret with the trust that it will not be revealed to anyone else.l According to the moral philosopher Sissela Bok, confidentiality refers to the I~oundaries surrounding shared secrets and to the process, of guarding these boundaries. While confi-dentiality protects much that is not in fact secret, personal secrets lie at its core.2 In confidentiality, then, what is at stake is the fidelity, keeping faith with those who have confided their secrets on condition that they not be revealed) Understood in this sense, confidentiality covers a wide range of ordinary day-to-day human dealings, in which two parties or more are bound, at least by tacit agreement, not to reveal what has been confided. Some promi-nent examples have to do with what is called professional secrecy. In his classic work written more than fifty years ago, Robert Regan defined it as follows: The term professional secrecy denotes a specific moral duty inherent in certain offices or functions of a confidential nature exercised in society. It connotes in its simplest form a relationship between one person constituted in some sort of need and another person expert and skilled in caring for such needs and with official or quasi-official authorization to do so. Professional secrecy may be defined as a special moral obligation, binding in both commutative and legal justice, incumbent upon the members of certain confidential pro-fessions, of maintaining a discreet silence with reference to the confidential communications received by them in the course of duty.4 The professional secret, then, springs from the contractual nature of the relationship between the professional and the client. Doctors, lawyers, and priests are traditionally expected to main-tain confidentiality; they are expected not to reveal to third parties the confidential information they receive in their professional capacity from their clients. The well-known Hippocratic oath of doctors and the confessional seal of Catholic priests indicate that such confidentiality has had a long history with regard to some professions. It would be a mistake, however, to believe that pro~ fessional secrecy is expected only from those professions. Many others members of society--such as counselors, government min-isters, bankers, and accountants--are expected to honor this obli-gation of secrecy, though they may not be bound by any official Review for Religious oath or law. Religious superiors would fall into this latter category, and so, in the rest of this essay, one may see religious superiors as "professionals" and members of religious congregations as "clients." On the one hand, the duty of confidentiality enables the pro-fessionals to gain more information in order to offer help to their clients, and, on the other hand, it enables the clients to open them-selves more freely to the professionals in order to receive the help they need. Patients often share with their physicians information so private that they would not consider sharing it even with their closest friends and relatives. Such information is obviously essen-tial for correct diagnosis and appropriate therapy. Confidentiality, professional secrecy, enables patients to reveal such information to physicians. Thus, professional secrecy, while strengthening the professionals' claim to their professional status, is first and fore-most for their clients' benefit.5 Take, for example, a battered wife who has shot her husband in self-defense.6 She might deny that she has shot him at all because, not knowing that killing in self-defense is lawful, she falsely believes herself guilty of murder. In order to give her a fair trial, it is extremely important for her lawyer to get all the relevant information that led to the .shooting so that he can build a case of self-defense in her favor. But, to reveal such information, the client normally needs at least tacit assurance of confidentiality from the lawyer. It is exactly this tacit assurance of confidentiality that professional secrecy normally gives to clients seeking professional assistance. Note here that under normal circumstances, if what has been confided is revealed, the one who confided will again be victimized. The whole purpose of confidentiality is to protect such victims. What we are dealing with in this essay, however, is the peculiar case of confidentiality making a victim of the professional when the one who confided the private information takes undue advantage of the silence that confidentiality demands of the professional. In the relationship we are considering in this essay, namely, that between superiors and members, the "victims" (or clients, mem-bers, receivers of authorized "professional" leadership) become the assailants, using loose talk, letter writing, and other weapons of calumny or slander to attack the professionals. Although reli-gious superiors may have sufficient information at their disposal to defend themselves, they are bound by the obligation of confiden-tiality and thus become victims--as in the real-life illustration we sketched above. May-ffune 2001 L-249-:--- --- 2-5.0A Tirimanna ." Confidentiality May the Confidentiality Assured by the Professional Secrecy Ever Be Violated? From the discussion we have had so far, it should be clear that the obligation to keep professional secrets is mainly justifiable on the grouhds that it assures clients a clear guarantee that the infor-mation confided in professional secrecy would never be revealed and that such a guarantee evokes a sense of trust and credibility in the clients so that they feel free to share information that would help them in seeking professional assistance. Leroy Wakers holds that the main moral justifications for professional confidentiality fall into just two main categories: The major moral justifications for confidentiality fall into two broad categories: consequentialist and nonconsequen-tialist . Consequendalists generally justify the social prac-tice of preserving confidentiality in certain contexts by. arguing that the efficient functioning of the physician-patient or lawyer-client relationship would be impeded without it. Nonconsequentialists (or deontologists) usually justify con-fid~ ndality by relating it either to the duty of promise-keep-ing, if an implied or explicit promise has been made, or to the duty to respect the autonomy of persons, who in this case would otherwise lose control over important information about themselves.7 Having thus very briefly examined the moral justifications of the obligation to keep the professional secrets, we now move on to whether there can ever be circumstances in which such an obli-gation ceases. In other words, are there circumstances that permit or even necessitate the revelation of a professional secret? Should a physician tell an HW-positive patient's spouse or lover about the illness so that he or she can avoid risky sexual behavior? Regan draws attention to a principle, which he attributes to ¯ theologians, that may be useful in questions of this kind: "The professional person is obliged to keep the client's secre~ as long as the client retains the right to his secret.''8 In using this guiding principle, the crucial question one has to raise whenever a doubt arises is: Has the client 'the right to keep this matter secret? If the client retains that right, then the professional person must keep the secret. However, if the client for one reason or another has for-feited his or her right to secrecy, then the professional person is not bound to secrecy "and normally must take advantage of the free-dom and reveal the secr,et.''9 According to Regan, the causes that will permit or necessitate the revelation of another's secret, includ- Review for Religious ing professional secrets, are generally reducible to three categories: the consent of the client, publication of the fact or knowledge of it from another source, and the necessity of preventing harm from befalling either the community or individuals2° In this essay, what interests us is the last category: What kinds of harm to the com-munity or individuals is it necessary to try to prevent? Regan lists four main ones: .the necessity of preventing harm from befalling the community; the necessity of preventing harm from befalling clients themselves; the necessity of preventing harm from befalling an innocent third party; and the neces-sity of preventing harm from befalling oneself (the professional person). Of these four cases, what is rel-evant directly to us in this essay is the fourth case, namely, preventing harm from befalling oneself---in our case, the religious superior himself or herself. Sissela Bok seems to agree with Regan's first thre~ cases listed above. For her, harm to clients themselves, harm to other specific individuals, and harm to unknown persons or groups of persons in society are the three main limits to the obligation of keeping professional secrecy.11 She says: The premises supporting confidentiality are strong, but they cannot support practices of secrecy--whether by individual clients, institutions, or professionals themselves--that under-mine and contradict the very respec.t for persons and for human bonds that confidentiality was meant to protect.12 It is clear that keeping a professional secret is obligatory almost always. This obligation, however, has limits. In other words, while there is a strict obligation to guard the confidentiality of clients, there are circumstances in which professional secrets may be revealed. Surely one such circumstance is the case .where the pro-fessionals (religious superiors) are unjustly victimized by their clients (members of their religious congregations). Within church life there are many areas in which confiden-tiality is called for. However, except in the case of the confessional seal, church discipline does not seem to have indicated the impor- Are there circumstances that permit or even necessitate the revelation of a professional secret ? May-ffune 2001 Tirimanna ¯ Confidentiality tance of confidentiality by enunciating specific norms with clear-cut sanctions. In the case of the pontifical secret, for example, when people are consulted in connection with choosing a bishop, in the case of counselingi and in this essay's case about religious superiors, it is not sufficient merely to declare the Feed for con-fidentiality. Today it has become important to enunciate what such confidentiality means and why it is necessary, what its norms are, and what its sanctions and limits are. Or else, as we saw in this essay, some parties (in our case, the religious superiors) can unjustly become victims of this very much needed confidentiality. That the religious superiors are morally bound to respect confidential-ity with regard the members of their congregations is beyond dis-pute. The question I have highlighted is this: Do religious superiors have to maintain professional confidentiality absolutely, or are there circumstances when they have the moral "duty not to adhere to such confidentiality, particularly when it damages their good name? To me it seems there are occasions when they are not bound and that such occasions need to be recognized officially by the church in the form of clearly stipulated norms with appropri-ate. sanctions and limits attached to them. Such norms would surely enhance the common good of a given religious congregation whereas their continued absence is likely not only to cripple or paralyze religious superiors or animators, but also to negatively affect the work and welfare of the congregation as a whole. Notes ~ See Shaun McCarty ST, "Confidentiality Issues in Spiritual Direction," Review for Religious 56, no. 4 (July-August 1997): 370. 2 Sissela Bok, Secrets: On the Ethics of Concealment and Revelation (New York: Vintage Books, 1989), p. 119. 3 Bok, Secrets, p. 156. 4 Robert E. Regan OSA, Professional Secrecy in the Light of Moral Principles: With an Application to Several Important Professions (Washington, D.C.: Augustinian Press, 1943), p. 47. s See Bok, Secrets, pp. 116, 122. 6 This example is taken from Alan Donagan, "Confidentiality in the Adversary System," in Ethical Issues in Professional Life, ed. Joan C. Callahan (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), p. 253. 7 Leroy Waiters, '.'Confidentiality," in A New Dictionary of Christian Ethics, ed. James E Childress and John Macquarrie (London: SMC Press), 1986), p. 112. 8 Regan, Professional Secrecy, p. 9~. Review for Religious 9' Regan, Professional Secrecy, pp. 97-98. 10 Regan, Professional Secrecy, p. 101. 1~ See Bok, Secrecy, pp. 124-131. ~2 Bok, Secrecy, p. 135. See also Karl H. Peshke, Christian Ethics: Moral Theology in the Light of Vatican H, rev. ed., Vol. 2 (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1992), pp. 379-380. Acceptance I know you well, my sins. Like an outworn glove creased and molded to my hand I know you. Fiber-woven we have grown together through the years, and I have come to know your intertwining even in the warp and woof of each shuttled day until you and I are indefinable. I know you wall, my friends, ¯ though not always was it so; and even now I do not wish too much accommodation. But life together holds some gratitude (albeit given grudgingly). Without you being who you are I would not be who I am. Marie LeClerc Laux SSND May-.~une 2001 LINDA HERNDON The Computer's Edge: Some Social and Ethical Concerns ComunmitpiUest etorsd ahya.v Ce obmecpoumteer sa amrea iunssetady t oin w mriotes tl erettleigrsio, utos kceoemp-track of community finances, to hold databases of information about community members and benefactors, to order library mate-rials, and to do some community business. The World Wide Web and email correspondence provide many helpful connections. Many religious have been involved in discussions about which type of computers to buy, what word-processing software to use, whether community members should all have the same type of computer and software, and other similar issues. Beyond these computer applications and issues, there are other computer matters that matter too, and our religious communities may be less alert to them. I suggest that, to begin with, we should be' talking seriously about some social and ethical issues in the computer world, such as equity of access, gender issues, privacy concerns, and the ways computer use can affect our relationships with others. On these issues I will make some remarks, raise some questions, and propose some possible practical responses, in the hope that religious communities will start similar discussions on these and other questions and find answers pertinent to their own situation. Although computers become less expensive with each passing year, they are not cheap. At present, in the first world, computers Linda Herndon OSB, of Mount St. Scholastica in Atchison, Kansas, writes from 409 N. Eau Claire Avenue, #I 10; Madison, Wisconsin 53705. Review for Religious are not necessities in the same way that telephones and cars are, but those of us who use computers regularly would find our work and our communication more difficult without them. Having com- ' puters available in our communities sets us apart from the poor. A recent study by the Fleet Boston Financial Foundation reports that in five northeastern cities fewer than half of the respondents with incomes under $40,000 a year have computers in their homes, and only 32 percent are connected to the Internet.t In 1999 a front-page article in USA Today said, "The Internet revolution is largely bypassing the poor, minorities, and those who live in rural communities and inner cities.''2 The article went on to say that Internet access was becoming both an economic and a civil-rights issue. More and more studies and articles report this. As regards the elderly, the article .said that only "15 percent of peo-ple 55 and over are on line." Although this number has surely increased by now, there is still reason for concern about older people's lack of computer knowledge and access, for with time more and more information is available only on line and not in traditional print formats. Lack of equal access to computers and the Internet, often referred to as the "Digital Divide," poses difficult questions with no simple answers, Are we in religious communities even aware that this situation exists and is a problem? How can we justify set-ting ourselves apart from significant portions of society by our possession and use of computer technology? Do we allow our employees Use of community computers? If we do, do we provide the training they need to use this often intimidating technology? Do we provide adequate computing facilities, including Internet access, for the schools and institutions that we sponsor? There are things we can do to alleviate this access problem. We can donate our older, but usable, comp~lters to community-action organizations that concern themselves with people who do not ordinarily have access to this technology. We can encourage businesses to do likewise. The Washington Post explored such possibilities in a 21 December 2000 article, "Who wants your old computer?" 3 Another way our rel!gious communities can assist organiza-tions that are working to overcome this problem of computer inac-cessibility is by sharing with them our skills in grant writing. We can become more informed about the inequity of access to both computers and the Internet, and we can stir others to address this May-June 2001 Herndon ¯ The Computer'sEdge major social and educational concern. Each .community needs to look at its charism, community resources, and ministries to decide how to address the "Digital Divide." Along with such physical access to computers and the Internet, is our community's Website accessible to all?4 Although court cases have determined that Websites do not need to meet the guide-lines set forth in the Americans with Disabilities Act,s it seems that, in ~he interest of hospitality, we will want our community Websit~ to be accessible to all who try to visit.6 Is our.Website accessible to the blind or to those who are limited to a text-only browser? Websites with the latest "bells and whistles," such as Javascript, multiple frames, sound, and even animation, may make a site inaccessible to those who are running older browsers, are visually impaired, or are accessing the site over a slow modem. As communities of women and men religious, we need to explore the type of image we wish to portray to those who visit us in cyberspace. These decisions will need to be conveyed to those who design and maintain our community Websites. Such deci-sions, if they include not having the latest innovations, may not be understood by our Website creator and may provide occasion for ongoing dialogue with and education of the Web-page designer, community decision makers, and the community as a whole. A study conducted by the American Association of University Women released in October 1998 showed that "technology is now the new 'boys' club' in our nation's public schools.''7 Their 2000 report, "Tech-Savvy: Educating Girls in the New Computer Age," found similar results.8 The current computer climate does not tend to attract girls. Girls dislike the violence present in many computer games and are looking for "high-skill, not high-kill." The entry position of girls into computi.ng is often the 2001 equiv-alent of typing and word processing. These observations, coupled with the steady decline 6f the number of women going into com-puter science and related areas for the past fifteen years, are cause for great concern. The potential contribution that women have to offer in the area of technology will be lost as long as these trends continue. The "gender gap" in technology use raises several questions for us to consider, especially those of us who are members of com-munities of women religious. Do we encourage members to con-sider technology as an important and significant area of study? Do we encourage the girls and women with whom we have con- Review for Religious tact to study computer science and other areas of technology? Do we offer women any training programs in computer skills? Do we sponsor for girls special classes or workshops in technology? These are a few ways that we can help society benefit from the gifts and skills of women in the area of technology. Is it possible for those of us with extra buildings and superfluous space to use some space for computer learning labs specially designed for girls and women? Do we help and support those who are look-ing for foundation, funds for projects that empower girls and women in the use and study of technology? In an attempt to reverse these trends, Anita Borg recently created the Institute for Women and Technology9 as a way to "increase the impact of women on technologyand to increase the positive impact of technology on the world's women.''1° Another group, Women in Technology International, seeks to empower women through technology.~1 If even a small fraction of our religious commu-nities would help support these or similar ini-tiatives where we are--elementary schools, secondary schools, universities, wherever--what a difference we could make for young girls and women. We can encourage and lobby manufacturers of computer games .to explore other, less-violent options. What a great gift this would be to today's youth and to future generations! Lack of privacy is becoming a major concern in our society. Databases containing social-security numbers, driver's license data, health information, banking and credit information, residence and real-estate information, political-party affiliation, and more are available to all kinds of individuals, agencies, and businesses what-ever their purpose. As making purchases on' the Internet by credit card becomes common practice, the need for secure channels grows. Not all transmission of sensitive and personal information is secure; and this poses significant danger to privacy. And there is the question of the privacy of email. Email is not protected by the laws that protect the privacy of mail delivered by the United States Postal Service. Some companies and busi-nesses regularly, and legally, screen the email of their employees. Email is not secure and can be viewed at any of the computers through which it passes' on the way to its destination. At every We can encourage and lobby manufacturers of computer games to explore other, less-violent options. Herndon ¯ The Computer's Edge. "stop" along its path, a copy of the email is.downloaded before it is sent on its way. Since backuPs of these intermediate computers are made regularly, copies of our email are stored for some days, weeks, or even months. Most people are not even aware that copies of their email exist at various unknovcn computer locations. Unauthorized access by others to an individual's email is not likely to occur, but the possibilities do exist. There are many complex questions in the area of privacy. Are we aware of the problem of the lack of privacy that massive databases and the Internet present? Are we aware of what we can do to increase our own and others' personal privacy? Are we advo-cates for email privacy, .especially in the workplace? Do we educate ourselves and our community members about privacy and security concerns in the use of the Internet? Often new users of the Internet, especially older people, are not aware of the need for precaution. We can encourage our com-munity members not to give out unnecessary information about themselves, whether on the Internet, on questionnaires, or over the telephone. The more we can keep the various pieces of informa-tion about ourselves (such as name, address, phone number, social-security number) private, the harder it is for those using multiple databases to put together ~11 the pieces for a "picture" of us. Social-security numbers are probably the single best source of information about people.2 For convenience, many agencies and institutions use s0cial-security numbers for identification num-bers. Unless required by law (as in some financial matters), no one can require that your social-security number be used for your identification number. In Kansas, where I reside, people getting a driver's license may be asked for their social-security number for use on the driver's license, but they can request another number and it will be given. I suggest that, as women and men religious, we speak out against using social-security numbers for identifica-tion. Often people's phone number, date of birth, and so forth are routinely requested on warranty applications and the like. This information is usually not necessary and need not be given out to "strangers" for a database somewhere. After educating ourselves and our community members about these privacy matters, we will be better able to educate others as well. Does our use of the computer and the Internet affect the way we relate to others within and outside our religious community? A recent study found that "the nation's obsession with the Internet Review for Religious is causing many Americans to spend less time with friends and family" and that, the more time people spend on the Internet, the less time they will spend with real human beings.13 If members of religious communities are typical of the people studied, what ai-e the implications of flaese findings for us? There is no doubt that the Internet and email can be used to keep the membership informed and in touch with leadership and its decisions and also with others in the community. But do Internet browsing~ chat rooms, and email take members away from community time and from relating with others with whom they live? Is it safer to relate to another community member at a distance, even someone we have never met face to face, than to relate to our sisters or brothers close by? A related concern is addiction to computers. Compulsive behavior can be exhibited in game-playing, chat rooms, and surfing the Web. Do these things take religious away from their min-istry and their relating with others in normal ways? If so, there is a problem that needs to be dealt with. Seeking pornographic sites would, of course, be a problem in itself. There may be no way to legislate computer use, but religious communities can take some steps to prevent or alleviate various problems. If communal living is a priority, perhaps members should not ha~e "their own" computers. Of course, computers are pro-vided in offices, and also for ministries as needed or desirable, but these probably should not be in private rooms. Communities can have a "general access" computer or computers. Simply having them out in the open could help towards moderate use and a gen-eral sense of community. No doubt computers are here to stay. I have suggested look-ing at a number of social and ethical issues concerning computer use that'go beyond what computers to buy and which software programs are best. I believe that we women and men religious have something significant to offer in the area of computing tech-nology. It seems natural for us to become a voice regarding the social and ethical issues that computers and the Internet raise24 It will take time, much discussion, and a serious search to find answers for ourselves and our religious communities. If we com-mit ourselves to go beyond the obvious, we can bring about a Compulsive behavior can be exhibited in game-playing, chat rooms, and surfing the Web. May-June 2001 Herndon * Tbe Computer's Edge more humane and heal.thy world of computing for ourselves, our religious communities, and the wider world that our lives touch. Since these issues are multifaceted and I have just begun to scratch the surface of them, I have created a Website with links to online resources at: http://www.mountosb.org/social-issues.html. This Website contains links to issues that I have not addressed in this article. Among them are those related to health concerns (including repetitive-stress syndrome) and to environmental con-cerns (called "green computing"). These resources provide fur-ther educational information and can help you and your community develop your own way of handling various issues. This Web page will be updated with new information and links as they become known. I invite you to contribute to making this page a useful resource for all communities of women and men religious as they continue to face or raise issues of social and ethical concern in and around the world of computers. Notes ~ The report is summarized in "News, Resources, and Trends: An Online Newsletter from Syllabus Press," a listserv email of 17 January 2001. 2 D. Lieberman, "Internet gap widening. Study: Revolution bypass-ing poor, minorities," USA Today (9-I 1 July 1999), p. 1. 3 Available at: http://washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/articles/A37762 -2000Dec21 .html 4 "Towards Equal Web Access for All," by Jim Isaak (14 January 2001): http://www.computer.org/itpro/Nov_Dec.htm s "Does the ADA Apply to the Web?" by Michael Mason (25 September 2000): http://www.wtonline.com/vol 15_nol 3/federal/1815 - 1 .html 6 For complete guidelines see the Website for the Web Accessibility Initiative: http://www.w3.org/WAI 7j. Kornblum (14 October 1998), "Study: Tech gender gap widening," CNET News.Corn, available at: http://www.news.com/News/Item/0,4,27550,O0 .html?st.ne.ni.lh 8 "Why Girls Don't Compute," by Kendra Mayfield, Wired News (29 December 2000): http://www.wirEd.com/news/culture/0,1284, 35654,00.html 9 For more information see the Women in Technology home page at: http://www.iwt.org ~0 A. Borg (March 1999). "Expanding the Pipeline: Models for Innovation Bring Women to the Table." Computing Research News, p. 2. ~ The home page for Women in Technology International is: http://www.witi.com/index-c.shtml Review for Religious ¯ ,2 This site; "Some Freqtiently Asked Questions on SSNs," maintained by Computer Scientists for Social Responsibility, is an excellent source of more information: http://www.cpsr.org/cpsr/privacy/ssn/ssn.faq.html ,3 "Study indicates Internet use changes social patterns," by John Markoff (16 February 2000): http://wwwlkcstar.com/item/pages/home.pat,local /37743 d 15.216,.html 14 One order's attempt to deal with these questions is the report of the Benedictine Internet Commission, a group of Benedictine women and men from around the United States. Their final report, issued on 15 January 1998, is available at: http://www.osb.org/bic/report.html Only to This Don't try to look as though you had no problems. Who doesn't ? Don't try to act as though you had it all together. Who does ? Don't think that you cannot be defeated. You can be crushed. Only to this must you witness. That in your problems God is there. That in falling apart you are held together. That in being crushed you are already being raised up again. As the crushed grape yields fine wine, and the crushed olive yields rich oil, so does your body yield, and does its yield give life. Paul N. Duckro May-June 2001 ROBERT P. MALONEY Authenticity and Contact with Youth religious life I love this little verse from Isaiah:"Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord Yahweh has opened my ear" (50:4-5). God is always try-ing to communicate with us. The Scriptures' powerful words and life's dramatic events seek contnually to rouse us from our distractedness, but often, as Isaiah laments, "hearing we do not hear." The whole New Testament, very mindful of Isaiah's words, is a trumpet call to conversion. The good news begins with a herald's cry in the desert: "Change your way of life. Prepare the way of the Lord." And when John the Baptist presents Jesus as the central figure on the New Testament stage, Jesus' message is simple and clear: "This is the time of fulfillment. The reign of God is at hand! Reform your lives and believe in the good news!" (Mk 1:15). Religioiis, first in their baptism and later in their vocational option, commit themselves to the conversion process of which the gospels speak. But this call to be a new creation is continual. It comes at every stage in our development. It says: Change your way of life now. As Karl Rahner once wrote, "none of us can enter the king- Robert P. Maloney CM, superior gene~,al of the Congre-gation of the Mission, writes again from Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. Review for Religious dom of God as we are." To narrow down this broad topic drasti-cally, I describe in this article one way of constant conversion, that proposed by Vincent de Paul. I analyze it briefly in terms derived from Be/nard Lonergan and then draw a few practical conclusions. Hunger for Truth as Constant Conversion Vincent de Paul wrote to his friend Franqois du Coudray on 6 November 1634: "Simplicity is the virtue I love most" (SV I, 284).1 Almost twenty years later he said to the Daughters of Charity, "I call it my gospel" (SV Ix, 606). Just a year before he died, he told the members of the Congregation of the Mission that everyone loves those who are authentic, whose words match what is in their hearts and whose actions match their words (SV XII, 171). Vincent proposed this "way" to the many groups he founded. It is clearly the virtue he loved most. Today we give simplicity many names: genuineness, sincerity, transparency, integrity, authenticity, hunger or thirst or passion for the truth. I suggest that simplicity is a path of continual con-version. This conversion manifests itself in: ¯ listening for the truth, searching for it humbly as a wayfarer rather than thinking to possess it as an owner; ° speaking the truth (a difficult disci-pline, especially when one's own convenience is at stake or when the truth is embarrassing); ¯ witnessing to the truth, or the personal authenticity whereby one's life matches one's words; ¯ practicing the truth through works of justice and charity; ¯ striving for sin-gle- minded truth, or purity of ihtention; ° living truthfully as a servant of the poor, having modest possessions and sharing what one has; ° expressing the truth clearly, using attractive, transpar-ent language, especially in teaching or preaching. The Asceticism of Authenticity Simplicity or authenticity is impossible without asceticism. The path of simplicity requires a long-sustained exercis~ of atten-tiveness, understanding, reasonableness, and responsibility. Authenticity, in other words, rests on a positive response to what Bernard Lonergan calls "four transcendental precepts": (I) be attentive, (2) seek to understand, (3) be reasonable, (4) be respon-sible. Attentive people observe precisely what is going on. Understanding people search out the meaning of what they see May-June 2001 Malone2/ ¯ Authenticity and Contact with Youth Drifting is the contemporary form of lukewarmness, of being "neither cold nor hot." and hear. Reasonable people formulate possible changes for the better. And responsible people weigh in the balance their short-and long-term advantages and disadvantages, and then choose. On the path that lies between inauthenticity and authentic-ity, there are two great dangers. The first danger to authenticity is bias. All of us have individual biases. They are self-deceptions that we create to protect ourselves or make us feel ¯ more secure. Others often see them in us much more quickly than we do: prejudices, labeling of others as liberals or conservatives, comfortable but unexamined choices, unchangeable patterns of behavior. One of the commonest individual biases I know in com-munity life is intolerance of differing pastoral approaches. Group bias is more subtle. We do not eas-ily identify it, because we share it with those around us. But it is very dangerous. It gives rise to unjust laws, persecutions, wars, abuse of others because of their race, sex, ethnic ori-gin, or religion. In clerical circles there still are strong group prejudices against women. These are especially striking in many European countries, in Africa, and in Asia, but they are found almost everywhere. Common bias is the most difficult of all to discern. It exists not just in individuals and particular groups; just about everyone suf-fers from it. It comes from looking at life in ways that no one reflects about and almost no one perceives as quite unacceptable. For centuries most people, Chris6ans included, regarded slavery as licit. Most of us live and die with common biases, without ever recognizing them. Prophetic voices attempt from time to time to shock us out of them. I am sorry that I cannot point out today's common biases, because, being afflicted with thgm, I am blind to them myself. But I am sure that someday people will shake their heads about us and our blithe assumptions, and ask, "How could they have thought that?" Whht are my biases? The second great danger is drifting. People who have entered the vowed life seldom deliberately choose to be inauthentic. In the contemporary world the great danger is that they might not deliberately choose anything at all. Drifting is the contemporary Review for Religious form of lukewarmness, of being "neither cold nor hot" (Rv 3:15). Drifters find themselves .incapable of moving resolutely toward authenticity. They skip across surfaces, never listening attentively, not searching out life's meaning, unalert for the right path or unwilling to choose it firmly. Do I drift? Levels of Conversion The quest for authenticity and the overcoming of our biases involves conversion on three levels. 1. Intellectual conversion. Staying aliveintellectually is crucial. I am not referring here to abstract, theoretical, high-flying intel-lectual voyages. No, I mean that we nourish our minds; that we read and reflect critically; that, when we ponder the word of God, we apply the four transcendental principles. Be attentive: hear what it is saying. Search out its meaning: understand it in the light of good commentators. Be reasonable: formulate what it may be asking of us. Be responsible: decide and act on the word. The focus of intellectual conversion is the true. 2. Moral conversion. The key to moral conversion is a change in the criterion for our choices, from personal satisfaction to val-ues. It is crucial in life that we decide what our key values are-- something drifters never do--and that we make them the basis of our judgments. The focus of moral conversion is the good. 3. Religious conversion. In religious conversion we are grasped by an ultimate concern. We surrender ourselves to God. Genuine religious conversion is pure grace. It is,not that we grasp God; God grasps us. The focus of i-eligious conversion is the holy. In each of these stages, we make choices and tfltimately our choices make us. We become what we choose. When we choose the true, we become true. When we choose the good, we become good. When we choose to allow the holy to possess us, we become holy. Am I in the process of being intellectually, morally, and reli-giously converted? Toward Being a New Creation Sixty-four percent of the world's population is under twenty-five years of age. These young people are the hope of the future. They are the future. Authenticity is immensely attractive to them. 2Ylay-June 2001 ¯ " Maloney ¯ Authenticity and Contact with Youth They yearn for the truth, hungering for it and rejecting what they consider its bogus forms. Let me suggest some specific ways in Which religious as indi-viduals and as communities can become more authentic. I am convinced that these will be of immense help in our efforts to reach out to the young. These are my dreams for all of us: ¯ My dream: that we become families that pray mightily and beautifully. I start with an aspe.ct of religious conversion. Do people say of our communities, "They really know how to pray"? People surely know many religious communities for their works. When posing this question to the Vincentian family, I put it this way: "The name Vincent de Paul is synonymous with works of practical charity. But do people also see us as a group that is deeply committed to prayer? Do the young people who come among us feel attracted by experiencing how we pray? Vincent himself was an extraordinary pray-er. His contemporaries readily recognized him as a contem-plative in action. He placed great emphasis on mentai prayer, on attuning ourselves to the rhythm of the church's liturgical life, and on celebrating it beautifully." My hope is that religious can support one another in medi-tating daily and fruitfully and that their common liturgical prayer will be "something beautiful for God" and attractive to the young. Do young people feel at home praying with us? Does our prayer ring true to them? ¯ My dream: that we create formation programs for the young. I hope that we can be masters and guides in the spiritual jour-ney. It is most important that we ourselves be rooted authenti-cally and experientially in the mystery of God's love if we wish to help young people share deeply in that same mystery. The mis-sion of the church is, after all, to announce this mystery joyfully. Formation is crucial for helping young people know and feel the good news that God is alive, that he lives within us, that he wbrks among us, and that he has a special love for the poor. Good formation demands hard work, creativity, the preparation of attrac-tive materials, and the dissemination of these materials far and wide to thousands and millions of young people who hunger for the truth. In the schools, parishes, and social centers where many reli-gious serve, have we created effective formation programs for Re~iew for Religqous young people? Have we developed a pedagogy of the experience of God? Can we communicate to the young our passion for truth and accompany them in their longing to be true? ¯ My dream: that we form youth groups and offer young people the opportunity to join in the service of the poor. ¯ Is there any sector of society that Pope John Paul II has focused on more clearly than youth? Today everyone talks about the new millennium. Young people are the third millennium. It belongs to them. If the Church is to be fully alive in this millennium, it will be because it is energized by young people who believe deeply. The young are the future evangelizers of the world and servants of the poor. Most religious active today will scarcely cross the threshold of the third millennium. If statistics hold true, I will not survive its sec-ond decade. But today's young people will be alive and full of energy long after that. And so I suggest that there is no apostolic goal more important for the church today than to reach. out to young people and offer them a strong Christian formation. We have a wonderful gift to offer them. We must bring it to them joyfully and generously. The presence of two million young peo-ple at World Youth Day in Rome last August was striking. Are we actively engaged in form-ing youth groups? Is the truth of our religious charism so important to us that we are eager to share it with them? ¯ My dream: that we offer the young the opportunity to serve in other countries. We live in the global community. Today events everywhere in the world affect us quickly. If the yen is weak, the New York stock market dives. If there is violent trouble in Central America, the number of undocumented people in Los Angeles increases. I urge religious to help young people to see the .plight of the poor throughout the world. Almost four centuries ago, when it was alto-gether common for young and old to die within five miles of their birthplace, Vincent de Paul established lay groups and two inter-national communities of priests, brothers, and sisters that spread quickly from France to Poland, Italy, Alge.ria, Madagascar, Ireland, Scotland, the Hebrides, and the Orkneys. There is no apostolic goal more important for the church today than to reach out to young people and offer them a strong Christian formation. May-June 2001 Maloney * Authenticity and Contact with Youth Do we offer young people the opportunity for commitments of two, three, four, five years in foreign missions? Do we encour-age them to be true to their inner desires in palpable ways, to be free to extend themselves, to take risks, to make temporary com-mitments and even permanent ones? Does the truth of our mis-sionary vocation so burn in our hearts that it carries over to others, brightening, w.arming, building a fire in them as well? In the mid 19th century, Henry David Thoreau went off into the woods and lived fo~: two yea~s more or less as a hermit a~ Walden Pond. It was a time of conversion for him, an intense period in which he sought meaning in his life. One day last sum-mer I visited Walden Pond, walked around its perimeter, and took a swim. In the evening I picked up Thoreau's famous book and read the words that he wrote when he returned to society after two years of searching: I learned this, at least, by my experiment: that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a suc-cess unexpected in common hours. He will put some things behind, will pass aia invisible boundary; . . . and he will live with the liberty of a higher order of beings. In proportion as he simplifies his life, the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor poverty poverty, nor weakness weakness. If you have built castles in the air, your work need not be lost; that is where they should be. Now put the foundations under them. How can we help young people dream dreams of the king-dom of God and build the foundations that will make those dreams come true? How can we communicate to greater numbers Of them a passion for the truth, a passion for the person of Jesus, a pas-sion for justice, a passion for the poor? Passion in its root sense includes suffering--can we help young people to be willing even to suffer for the truth they believe in? Note 1 SV refers to the fourteen-volume French edition of St. Vincent de Paul's works, edited by Pierre Coste (Paris: Gabalda, 1920-1925). Review for Religious KATHY DUNNE Obedience: Vow and Virtue in Our Contemporary World Ibt was a breezy, hot summer day in 1958. I was sitting on the ack steps of our suburban Long Island home with my friend Linda. We were both about six or seven years old. My morn had just made cupcakes, but told us we could not have any until after ¯ dinner that evening. Linda and I were discussing the merits of "snitching" a cupcake when my mom was not looking. I held that it would be stealing because they did not belong to us. Since this would be a mortal sin in our° theological framework, I did not think this was such a good idea. I did not want to die that night and go to hell! Linda, more practical-minded, said she thought it would only be a sin of disobedience since my mom said we could not have one until later. That would only be a venial sin! Since my mom stayed in the kitchen, we did not have a chance to take the cupcake. As I reflect on that event, I see that our notion of obedience was rudimentary. We lacked maturity, of. course, and our moral framework was that of young children. After many years of growth in discipleship and in my religious vocation, I found myself with a deeper understanding of the vow of obedience. Obedience means more than acquiescing to external authority; it is a more mature, discerning stance that includes inner authority within the context of community, the church, and the world. Kathy Dunne RC is a spiritual director and works with her commu-nity's affiliates. She wrote "The Still Point" for our issue of January- February 1999. Her address is Cenacle Retreat House; P.O. Box 8115; Metairie, Louisiafia 70011. May-June 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtue This article looks at obedience as an evangelical counsel, lived as vow andvirtue. It approaches obedience from three perspec-tives: the scriptural, especially as seen in Jesus' relationship with the One he called Abba; that of religious life today; and that of con-temporary spirituality, that is, living the Spirit of the Gospels in one's life. Obedience, which comes from the Latin audire, means to lis-ten or to hear. In The New Catholic Dictionary of Spirituality, obe-dience is defined as "receiv!ng and responding appropriately to a message--or Word--from God.''l Jesus Christ, in his fidelity to his Abba (his Father), is the model par excellence of this obedience. Jesus lived in a deep relationship with his Father, modeling for us what intimacy means. Jesus' life of deep prayer, listening, and response to his Abba lies at the heart of obedience. The Scriptures tell us that by his obedience Christ was able to "reconcile all things to himself." In a world fractured by sin and division, Jesus shows us how to be at one with God, with each other, and with the whole cosmos. We are called to obedience in the deepest recesses of our being. We are invited back to primal unity and original innocence. By reconciling all things and all people in Christ Jesus, God invites us back to what life was like before original sin. This original unity models love, inclusivity, respect, reverence, mutuality, and care of the ea~'th and all living things. It is nonabusive and "does not rejoice in the wrong but rejoices in the truth" (1 Co 13:6); there "is ntither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free person, male nor female, for all are one in Christ Jesus" (Ga 3:28). Original Sin Original sin, the sin of fundamental disobedience, echoes Lucifer's "I will not serve." It prevents us from accepting and liv-ing the truth of who we are given to be. It blinds us from seeing with the eyes of Christ. Unable to see clearly, we live in a fog or mist of confusion, contradiction, and rationalization. We are often unaware of the needs of those around us. We justify our thoughts, attitudes, and behavior in the name of expediency. We participate, often without realizing it, in the escalating violence and destruc-tion that affect all persons and all creation. We do this by our presence and by our silence. This happens in personal and in struc-tural acts of sin. By our acts of commission and omission, we are Review for Religious involved both in petty acts of selfishness and in the much larger realms of evil, including prejudice, racism, and sexism. We are called, as Christians and particularly as religious, to stand against this fundamental disobedience. We are called to be in harmony and in relationship with all of creation, with one another, and with Christ in God. Obedience is not easy, nor is it an escape from discerning what God asks of us each day. As Dietrich Bonhoeffer said, "There is no cheap grace." Neither is there cheap obedience. Obedience does not give license to opt out of personal or communal responsibility. Rather, obedience is being in fundamental relationship with Jesus Christ as he was with his Father. For many of us that relationship is also mediated through the church and the profession of religious vows. But, primarily and before any type of mediated relationship, we are called to be disciples. Discipleship is the call to be learners, to stand before God with, in, and through Jesus Christ as persons who desire to do God's will and beg for the grace of actually doing it in all the circumstances of life. Obedience is being in fundamental relationship with Jesus Christ as he was with his Father. Seeking the Will of God There are various ways of seeing the will of God. Some see it to be preset or preplanned, a blueprint thatlone just has to dis-cover in order to be obedient. Others consider it as unfolding in the events of daily life. Some experience God's will as some com-bination of the two. Perhaps another way to see its essential nature is to look at Jesus and his relationship with the One he called Abba. John's Gospel in particular stresses this relationship: "I always do what pleases him"; "I have come not to do my own will but the will of him who sent me"; "I am in the Father and the Father is in me" (John 6 and 14:10). Jesus' obedience hinges on this relationship with his Abba. It is not a driven or mechanical relationship. It is a matter of love and deep passion that God's dream for our world will come to fruition. This type of union flourished with Adam and Eve, as God walked in the garden with them in the cool of the evening. When Adam May-ffune 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtue and Eve ate of the fruit of the tree of good and evil, their eyes were opened. They lost their primal innocence. The Evil One said they would become like gods. Instead, they lost their innocence and were removed from the gard.en (Gn 3:1-19). Jesus, in the words of the Easter Proclamation, "restores lost innocence." The innocence and candor of little children are often spoken of as a kind of na'ivet~. As we experience more of life, we lose that innocence and na~'vetd. Disillusion and disappointment contribute to this loss. As we grow in the spiritual life, studying and reflecting on experience, we may come to what Paul Ricoeur calls 'the second na~'vetd, a kind of innocence that is far from na~'ve. Jesus grew in "wisdom and age and grace"; he taught us by his living, his dying, and his rising what obedient living and loving are about. He models for us the innocence that can be restored in us by obe-dience, by being in relationship with God, from whom all things come and to whom all things return.2 Christ's obedience was part of his relationship of love with his Abba. Deep love of God includes deep interior freedom. Such freedom is not a license to follow our inclinations and impulses into unregulated attitudes and behaviors. Rather, such interior freedom seeks to discover what God is asking in each situation or event of our life. There is no plan that anticipates exactly what to do in any eventuality, but there are general guidelines. The teach-ing of the church, refined by centuries of gospel living and of seek-ing and finding what works best as circumstances change, provides a major guideline. The Scriptures provide another. Individual con-science, our culture, and the mores of our country and society also provide guidance. But none of these is enough by itself. The way God leads us within and sometimes beyond these guidelines must be discerned. Some people are ~alled to be prophets and to challenge the status quo. Some, called to be prophets of justice, challenge church " and society teachings on the roles of women, of minorities, of the poor and dispossessed of our world. Others are contemplatives and mystics, women and men who remind us that, without deep and sustained prayer born of a desire to respond to a loving.God, all our work is for nothing. All must listen to the "still small voice" (1 K 19:12) within in order to be obedient to the call which God gives each of us for building up the reign of God. Paul tells us that there is one Spirit but many gifts for the building up of the kingdom. Some are called to be teachers, some Review for Religious prophets, some administrators; some to speak in tongues and some to interpret the tongues (1 Co 12:4-10). Paul tells us that now we know in part and see in part, but then we shall see face to face. He tells us that all other gifts will disappear, that prophecies will be no more, but that faith, hope, and love remain and that the greatest of these is love (1 Co 13:8-13). Call to Love This call to love, to a growing union and familiarity with God and the things of God, is central to the vow and virtue of obedi-ence. Obedience does not mean going "against the grain" in a mechanical way. Rather, it is a delicate dance in which our choices--our ways of being, thinking, and doing--are gradually transformed. We are gentled, so to speak, discovering the strength that comes from God and not from self. Disciples move from exte-rior conformity to inner listening, listening for what Jesus, the Beloved, would have us do. The hours of prayer that we spend overflow into our life, and the events of our life also lead us to God. We become familiar with God's heart and desire God's mercy and justice for all people everywhere and always. Our heart expands to embrace all and thus grows in compassion. The vow can become virtue. Our growing interior freedom lets go of all that is not God, desiring only God and that which God desires. As disciples we let go of compulsions and addictions, sometimes with the help of support groups, ther-apy, spiritual direction, and study, but always with prayer. Over many years we let go of habits, even preferences for doing things a certain way. Fundamental desires are transformed. We now desire the truth and integrity of heart that come from the interior action of the Holy Spirit. We become obedient out of a growing desire to mirror God's trinitarian love in our life. How do we get to where God's nature becomes ours, where it is second nature for us to make decisions--and actually to live-- as God dreams for us? First, baptism gives us the basic operating system of the Christian life. Through years of praying and study-ing the Scriptures, we come to know Jesus Christ ever more deeply. The church's teaching in all areas, particularly justice and mercy, guides our learning and our praying. We grow in our willingness to be open to all of that teaching--and not just what is convenient or feels good. May-June 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtue In addition, we learn as religious the Rule and constitutions of our particular institute. We move from the externals of the vow of obedience to an inner disposition. We begin to find our own way within the congregation and the church. Our particular talents and learned skills come to light and eventually to fruition. We ¯ learn to use these gifts generously and, when we can, to encourage others to grow in discipleship. Over time the vow gradually becomes virtue. No one can map this out for another in exact detail. What a guide can do is listen with us for the signs of how God is at work and suggest ways to cooperate more fully with God. As we let go of less-than-produc-tive ways of being and doing, we gradually find that, much as Jesus did, we grow in age, grace, and wisdom. Ingrained habits give way to the desires and habits of God. We come to desire love, the unity of all persons and all things in God. As disciples we find ourselves fulfilling our living and loving desires in the concrete actions of daily life~ We find that we must live the gospel radically if we are to be faithful. All that life asks must be integrated in an incarna-tional way with the demands and challenges of the gospel, or we live in vain. Living Obediently How do disciples live this challenge? We pray and we act. We act and we pray. There is really no other way. We do not live iso-lated on our own island. A survival-of-the-fittest mentality does not rule our life. Rather, we cooperate with each day's graces and meet each day's challenges. A living obedience to the demands made each day and a willingness to embrace all that life asks call us to greater fidelity. Just as Jesus' love and mission were not only for the Jewish people of 1 st-century Palestine,' the call to obedience is not limited to "my family, . my community," and "my country." As Jesus' mission was for all people and for all time, so obedience embraces all and thus becomes universal. We are called to be compa?sionate with all people who suf-fer, who are poor, excluded, and marginalized. This demands a range of vision impossible without profound grace. We are so con-ditioned to "get ours" or do things our own way that it takes the wide-angle lens of the gospel and of the church's social teaching, accompanied by much prayer and meditation on these documents, to move beyond our myopic viewpoint. We are called by obedience Review for Religious to embrace all and to include all, not just in an intellectual way but in our loving, our praying, and our acting. We have to think globally even as we act locally. The way we do this is unique to each of us and must be dis-cerned. But act we must, or our religion is in vain. But our activ-ity must not be a mere "clanging cymbal" (1 Co 13:1). We must be, like John the Baptist, "a voice crying in the wilderness" (Mt 3:3) or, like Paul, one who proclaims the gospel "in season and out of sea-son" (2 Tm 4:2). We will not be popular, and we may indeed be martyred--if not by stoning or crucifixion, at least by rejection and hurtful words. Nonetheless, we are called to be like Jesus Christ, who "was crucified for our sakes" (1 Co 15:3). If Jesus Christ suffered and died for what he believed and proclaimed, so shall we. We are like the one we Wofess to follow. Obedient love demands such life and response from us. We know that death is not the end of the story. Jesus was raised to new life. We too will rise, not only on the last day, but each time we die to ourselves and surrender ourselves to our good God. The Scriptures tell us that God will not be outdone in gen-erosity. A generous and obedient heart leads us deeper into God's own heart and calls us forth to minister and to love as Jesus did. As we continue .to die to ourselves each day, we are raised up. As we grow in the vow and virtue of obedience, we see our wdrld with God's eyes and with God's heart. But, because we are human beings and not God, we act accordingly. We make mis-takes. We learn, however, to forgive others and ourselves because God has first forgiven us. We forgive and are gentle because that is the very nature of love and the heart of obedience. Able to laugh at ourselves, we do not take ourselves too seriously. This is, after all, God's world and God's creation. The Potter asks only for our cooperation, that we let go of control. Like Jesus, we are in rela-tionship with our Abba/Amma, our Father/Mother God. We are in an interdependent relationship with God, sharing mutually the fruit of otir love and our labor:3 God is as dependent on us as we are on God in this relationship. As we grow in the ways of God, we become ever more fully ourselves. We rejoice because we are one with the God we love and with all whom God loves. Through the vow and the virtue, we are obedient in heart and spirit. We rejoice in the truth. We live simply and we live radically because we live with Christ, through him and for him who is before all else that is. We are his, and he May-June 2001 Dunne ¯ Obedience: Vow and Virtu~ is ours. We are in relationship and in love. We are obedient. Notes L Richard M. Fragomeni, "Obedience," The New Catholic Dktionary of Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), p. 709. 2 See St: Boflaventure, "Contemplating the Divine Unity through Its Primary Name Which Is Being," in Bonaventure: The Soul's Journey into God, The Tree of Life, The Life of St. Francis, trans. Ewert Cousins, Classics of Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), pp. 94-101. 3 See David Fleming SJ, Draw Me into Your Friendship: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading of the Spiritual Exercises (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), "Contemplation to Attain the Love of God," §§230-234. Suggested Readings Foley, John B., SJ. "Stepping into the River: Reflections on the Vows." Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 26, no. 4 (September 1994). Langan, John P., sJ, "The Good of Obedience in a Culture of Autonomy," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits 32, no. 1 (January 2000). Rolheiser, Ronald, OMI. Holy Longing: The Search for a Christian Spirituality. New York: Doubleday, 1999. Schneiders, Sandra, IHM. New Wineskins: Re-imagining Religious Life Today. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1986. --. Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000. Wittberg, Patricia, SC. "Community and Obedience: Musings on Two Ambiguities." Review for Religious 59, no. 5 (September-October 2000): 526-536. NEW ON OUR WEBSITE Complete text of A Spirituality for ContemPorary Life: The Jesuit Heritage Today edited by David Fleming SJ and containing articles by J.J. Muetler s J, Walter Burghardt S J, David Fleming s J, Monika K. Hellwig, Jon Sobrino S J, Elizabeth Johnson CSJ, and John W. Padberg sJ ° ¯ An ARCHIVES section containing indices, abstracts, and summaries of our iournal articles from January-Februau 1995 to the current issue VISIT US AT: http://www.reviewforreligious.org Review for Religious WILLIAM C." ZEHRINGER Mechthild of Magdeburg's Spiritual Pilgrimage '~md where is this inaccessible light, or how can I approach the inaccessible light? Or who shall lead me and take me into it that I may see you in it?" So wrote St. Anselm in his Proslogion at the end of the 11th cen-tury. A lifelong searcher for that divine light was Mechthild of Magdeburg (ca. 1212-ca. 1282), one of the greatest women mystics of the Middle Ages. The ardu-ous and triumphantly successful spiritual pilgrimage of that remarkable woman is recorded in her enduring book, Das Fliessende Licht der Gottheit (The Flowing Light of the Godhead), the first mystical work to have been composed in the author's native language, and a book which "defies genre conventions.''~ So, it might be added, does her life in religion. Mechthild is unique among the female mystics of her time and place, both for the changes that took place in the form of her vocation throughout a long life and for the distances that she traveled before finding, at the last, her soul's rest. "My body," wrote Mechthild early in her Flowing Light, "is in great torment, my soul is in sublime bliss; for William C. Zehringer, a medievalist and free-lance author, received his doctorate from Temple University. His publi-cations include a college writing textbook; this article is adapted from a chapter of a book in progress. His address is 364 E. Second Street; Bloomsburg, Pennsylvania 17815. May-June 2001 heritages Zehringer * Mecbtbild's Spiritual Pilgrimage she has both gazed upon and embraced her Lover in her arms."2 These words summarize her turbulent life, for she long endured both ill health and afflictions from her adversaries, while also expe-rienci. ng deep consolations within her soul. As Emilie zum Brunn and Georgette Epiney-Burgard say, "The return of the soul to its original being in G6d--that is what motivates her desire."3 The revelations and sublime insights of The Flowing Light, which she worked on until the end of her life, won her, in her later years, a devoted following among the wisest of her contempo-raries. These included Meister Eckhart and the h01y nuns ofthe convent of Helfta.4.What.was the source of her appeal to these far-seeing men and women? Perhaps one may attribute it, and the hardy endurance of her single mystical.work through centuries of studied neglect, to the potent force of her convictions and the power of her expression in her'native language. Mechthild's book is remarkable in the way the clarity of her vision emerges from the diverse forms of expression she employs, from prayer to exhortation. Carol Lee Flinders has said, "The over-all coherence of the work derives not so much from formal qualities as from a consistency in preoccupation of the kind that knits together a collection of lyric poetry.''5 This all-consuming preoc-cupation is best told in her own impassioned words: "Then she soars further to a blissful place," and, "when infinite God brings the unfathomable soul to the heights, she loses sight of the earth in her astonishment and is not aware of ever having been on earth" (41).6 These and other startling paradoxes which the saint finds in her soul as she approaches the Sacred Presence are a proof of her lifelong (and ultimately successful) attempt to spiritualize her deep and abiding suffering. But they are also her wayof explaining the experiences which she took pains to have recorded, for the edifi-cation of her fellow Christians. The movifig story of her spiritual pilgrimage is above all a lesson in the way all searchers for.the Source of light and love must chart their courses. As Pierre Teilhard de Chardin so memorably wrote, "Union ir~creases only through an increase in consciousness, that is to say, in vision. And that, doubtless, is why the history of the living world can be sum-marized as the elaboration of ever more perfect eyes within a cos-mos in which there is always something more to be seen.''7 These words apply well to Mechthild's life. And a stirring picture of the price of such vision may be found in "The Lament of the Loving Soul" (Flowing Light, Book 2, ~hap. 25): "Oh, you infinite glory Review for Religious in the power of your nobility! How painfully I long for you when you want to spare me" (92). If one searched The Flowing Light for momentous earthly events, one would bE disappointed, but, read as a narrative of Mechthild's interior journey, the book describes vividly her cease-less hunger for heaven's heights,s It was often the depths of the human spirit that this sen-sitive soul traversed. Mechthild knew darkness and periods of dryness. Albert Camus, that pellu-cid and unresting agnostic searcher, has declared: ~"There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night.''9 But passages such as the one quoted above also bear witness to another cause of Mechthild's suf-fering: the unjust criticism that was hurled at her by clerical authori.ty when she denounced the vices that flourished in the church of her time. As Michael Novak wisely observed, "the experiences whence language about God springs--freedom, honesty, community, and courage--abut on pol-itics. They will not be contained.''1° In Mechthild's life they were not contained, any more than they were in the lives of Hildegard of Bingen, Birgitta of Sweden, or Catherine of Siena. Here is her heartfelt summary of her interior and exterior afflictions (Book 3, chap. 5, "How the Soul Laments that It Cannot Hear Mass or the Daily Offices"): "Ah,' dear One, how intimately you speak to me. And yet I never dare think upon these words in joy. For I constantly notice with anguish the stench of that dead mongrel, my body; and I, Lord, when I consider the matter, have no idea how things shall turn out for me in the end. What is more, just beholding you I lose all awareness of suffering" (112). The words that I have italicized are as characteristic of Mechthild's spiritual life as are the laments that precede them. How could they not be? For all true mystics believe that an essen-tial task of souls who ha(,e answered the call to holiness is to show a sorely burdened humankind how to avoid the paths that lead to One would gravely misrepresent Mechthild of Magdeburg by dwelling only on the slanting shadows of her thought and ignoring the record of the supernatural joys she experienced. May-June 2001 Zebringer ¯ Mecbtbild's Spiritual Pilgrimage despair.~1 And they most surely accomplish this by relating their own ascent past slippery edge,s,tz One would gravely misrepresent Mechthild of Magdeburg by dwelling only on the slanting shadows of her thought and ignoring the record of the supernatural joys she experienced. There is more light than darkness to be found in The Flowing Light of the Godhead. Mechthild's active compassion and love for the suffering poor as a beguine in Magdeburg is al~other aspect of her spiritual voca-tion. She carried the interior joys of her heart to a world that needed them as surely as ours does. Father Odo Egres called her an angel of mercy who "gave love and consolation to those who in their misery looked for a ray of hope."'3 Her life, then, was not given ?ver completely to serene med-itation on the divine mysteries. The practice of prophetic speech that led to charges of heresy and hard missiles of condemnation was one to which she felt compelled by God's command. In Book 4, chapter 24, she calls her fellow pilgrims to carry out the duties of their state of life so that they find at the end that "God crowns three kinds of people with his fatherly hands: virgins, widows, and married people" (168). Not surwisingly, than, does Caroline Walker Bynum find that "Mechthild of Magdeburg sees herself as a teacher, counselor,'and mediator." 14 But there is another dimension to that part of her life when she lived as a mystic in the world. Mechthild is also a fine poet of the spiritual life and of mystical marriage with her Lord. Bea.uty and pictorial splendor are characteristics of her later work. Lucy Menzies, a 1953 editor of Mechthild's book, says, "Thehuman passion of the younger years gradually gives place to the mature spiritual poise of the late period, when like an eagle 'she soars up to gaze into the face of God.'''is That is a valid judgment, for the knowledge that she was advancing toward her lifelong goal, union with Divine Love and Truth, came steadily to the saint as she con-tinued to labor and pray. Perhaps that is why there is a joining, in her earlier visions, of what seem at first to be opposed ideas (as in the words quoted above: "Dear One, how intimately you speak to me. And yet I never dare think upoh these'words in joy"). These most likely represent, at one and the same time, Mechthild's unsettled response to the overpowering presence of her Savior, her consciousness of sin,.and her aching desire for bliss. Peter Dronke speaks perceptively of"Mechthild's anguished evo-cations of the 'fatal' quality of her love. For all its torments, she Review for Religious cannot help her longing--it is her destiny to sing of love through pain, like the nightingale." 16 And yet, in some of the later por-tions of The Flowing Light, there are harmonious images that sup-port an assured and serene conclusion. In Book 5, chapter 22, "The Seven Things of Judgment," Mechthild proclaims that "the greatest delight in doing comes from keeping one's integrity in all that one does" (196). A beautiful and unique feature of her book is the intense response of the Lord to her plaintive pleas for a surcease from suffering. Divine speech (as in Book 2, chapter 25) is expressed in ¯ cumulative phrases that pierce the heart: Your secret sighs shall reach me. Your heart's anguish can compel me. Your sweet pursuit shall so exhaust me That I shall yearn to cool myself In your limpid soul, To which I have b

Issue 58.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1999. ; f 0 r relig i ous Christian Heritages and ,Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1999 * VOLUME 58 ¯ NUMBER 3 Review for Religioug is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who J~nd that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ° 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP P.O. Box 29260; ~,rashington, D.C. 20017 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN ~5806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1999 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Riehards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Heritages and Contemporary Lfiv~ng MAY-JUNE 1999 * VOLUME58 * NUMBER3 contents 230 251 women religious Charism or Deep Story? Towards Understanding Better the 19th-Century Origins of American Women's Congregations Margaret Susan Thompson suggests that emphasis on "charism" may not be helpful in explaining the ,founding experiences of many women's communities in 19th-century America, and identifies some of the reasons why "deep stow" may be a more usable concept. The Need for Self-Criticism: Affirmative Comments Elizabeth McDonough OP suggests that the time has come for United States religious women to initiate some possibly difficult but genuinely constructive self-criticism and some corrective change of course in various aspects of postconciliar renewal. 261 266 women and the church The Annuario Pontificio: The Vatican's "Pontifical Yearbook" and a Recent Editorial Decision Larry N. Lorenzoni SDB updates a bit of history about who are included in the Vatican's "Pontifical Yearbook." Women and Canon Law Joan A. Range ASC investigates the extraordinary recent history of women entering the field of canon law. Review for Religious 286 295 mary Five Faces of Mary Robert P. Maloney CM offers five Marian faces as a way of meditating on the rich, varied tradition surrounding the Virgin Mary. The Temple and the Journeying: Mary of Sorrows Joel Giallanza CSC draws directions for our spiritual life's journey from reflecting on the traditional seven sorrows of Mary. 3O5 314 witnessing Blessed Maria Droste: A Good Shepherd Motif in Sacred Heart Spirituality Juliana Devoy RGS tells the story of Blessed Maria Droste, which gives witness to her vision of God's merciful love reflected in Sacred Heart spirituality. Echoes from My Fifty-sixth Annual Retreat Robert F. Drinan sJ shares reflections on God!s grace stirring thoughts and feelings in a retreat. 228 32O 325 departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Visitation by External Authorities Book Reviews May-.~une 1999 227- Whoever has seen me has seen the Father. --John 14:9 Wean talk about God in some very un-Christian ways. As we "dress up" God in the various cultural and time-bound categories of our human world, we are inevitably limited, in both our reasoning and our imagining. When we get swept up into a highly intellectualized philosophical approach, we find our-selves projecting a vague abstract and sometimes fright-ening power and a childishly understood world. God without a face. Although Jesus lived within human limitations of time and culture, he dared to speak "with authority" about the reign of God in images and parables that tore down the temple curtain of separation to let people catch some glimpses of God that are new. The synoptic Gospels--Mark, Matthew, and Luke--talk of a celebra-tory invitation to a banquet, of a shepherd doggedly searching out a lost sheep, so that we come to know and relate to God with fresh affective response. But the Gospel of St. John stands out as the Gospel of the God revealed to us by Jesus as "Father." Few are the chapters in John's Gospel that do not have explicit reference to God as Father. The qualities of this Father-God tumble out. This God is the God of life: "Just as the Father who has life sent me and I have life because of the Father." Jn 6:44. This is a God who works: "My Father is at work until now, and I am Review for Religious' at work as well" Jn 5:17. This is a God who teaches: "My doctrine is not my own; it comes from him who sent me" Jn 7:16; "I say only what the Father has taught me" Jn 8:28. This is a God who cultivates growth: "I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower" Jn 15:1. Above all, this God is the one who loves: "The Father loves the Son and has given everything over to him" Jn 3:35; "the one who loves me will be loved by my Father"Jn 14:21. In retreat notes published as a book, The Ignatian Exercises in the Light of St. John, Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini SJ reflects that a way of considering the Fourth Gospel is to see it as a gospel of prayer, It is prayer not just from people responding to Jesus as we do so often in our prayer lives, but prayer also from Jesus to the one he lovingly calls Abba-Father. From Jesus We learn how we are meant to grow in our relationship with God. And so this Gospel, in teaching a way of relating to God for the mature Christian, is paradoxically the Gospel most insistent in remind-ing us that we are still "children" who have--and who need for our very existence--a Father. We are called, in imitation of Jesus, to relate to a God from whom we have everything--all that we are and all that we would call "our own." This is the God that Jesus describes as the One apart from whose words he himself has nothing to say, the God apart from whose works he has no work to do. As Christian evan-gelizers, then, we need to follow the example of Jesus so that what we say flows from our union with this God. As Christian ministers we need to strive that all our deeds and good works flow from the baptismal grace given by God that makes us all very special children, God's sons and daughters. It is from this God we have come--a Source we call by Jesus' word Father-- and it is to this God we direct our whole life as the One we, with John, identify as Love. If we let the words of St. John enter more deeply into our very being, we will find ourselves being shaped and molded by the reality behind our personally limited understandings of God as Father and God as Love. This is the revealed God of Scripture we seek to know and make known ever better in this year dedi-cated to God the Father. David L. Fleming SJ '229 May-June 1999 MARGARET SUSAN THOMPSON Charism or Deep Story? Towards Understanding Bett@r the 19th-Century Origins of American Women's Congregatigns Since the Second Vatican Council, the term charism increasingly has become associated with the identity, and .even the integrity, of religious congregations.1 Literally dozens of published essays explore the term's meaning and significance~ A substantial number of the community websites created in recent years contain a page about-- or at least an allusion to--the group's "charism," as do postconciliar constitutions, mission statements, and voca-tion paraphernalia. The hierarchy of the Catholic Church has not been silent either, particularly during the current papacy. For example, in its 1983 document "Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life 'as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate," the Sacred ~Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes used ~the term ten times, and it shows up a whopping eighty-six times in//Tta con-secrata, John Paul II's apostolic letter in response to the 1994 Synod on Religious Life. . Ironically, the word itself is not: to be found in Perfectae caritatis, the council document which treats the Margaret Susan Thompson PhD has written and lectured extensively on the history of women religious in the United States. She is associate professor of history and political sci-ence at Syracuse University; Department of History; 145 Eggers Hall; Syracuse, New York 13244. Review for Religious "Adaptation and Renewal of Religious Life." In fact, its first appearance in a magisterial treatise seems to be in 1971's Evangelica testificatio. Addressing religious themselves, Paul vI speaks of the "charisms of your founders" and the "charisms of the various insti-tutes" (§§11, 32), assuming, probably with justification, that the terminology would be familiar to his intended audience. But, for those in doubt about this nomenclature, Paul cites Perfectae cari-tatis §2b, which calls upon members of religious institutes to respect their "particular characteristics and work" and "their founders' spirit and special aims" as they proceed with their groups' renewal. Paul extends the discussion in Mutuae relationes (1978), using the term nineteen times and declaring, among other things, that "the very charism of the founders (Evangelii nuntiandi, §I 1) appears as an 'experience of the Spirit'" and that "every authentic charism implies a certain element of genuine originality and of special initiative for the spiritual life of the church" (§12). By now, therefore, one would assume that the meaning of a term so widely and authoritatively used would be clear, and one might also assume that the reality of the thing known as "charism" would be easily identifiable and inherent to religious life. Indeed, this seems to be implicit in various references from the two doc-uments of the current pontificate mentioned above. The first para-graph of "Essential Elements" refers to "the founding charism of a particular institute" and later even says that, through its appro-bation of a community's canonical status, the "God-given ministry of the hierarchy" has ratified the "authentic discernment of its founding charism" (§41):2 The references in Vita consecrata are too numerous even to summarize, but here are a few of them: "charisms proper to the various institutes," "fidelity to the found-ing charism," "[an institute's] Rule and constitutions [are approved] in accordance with a specific charism confirmed by the church," and "the uniqueness of their different ~harisms' (§§19, 36, 37, 53). Surely, then, "charigm" is intrinsic to religious life. Every con-gregation must have one, unique to that particular institute and traceable directly to its individual founder., But the rationale for this essay is precisely that none of the assumptions above seems necessarily to be the case. It is my con-tention that, in much of its current usage, charism is a term of such vagueness and ambiguity as to be almost meaningless. More impor-tantly, even if we can accept the connotations that John Paul II apparently regards as definitive (and he is hardly alone in this atti- May-~tune 1999 -231 . Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? tude), I would argue that a good many of the women's apostolic congregations that ministered in the 19th and early 20th century in the United States have no such thing as a "charism" according to this understanding. Thus, if, as John Paul II suggests, "charism" is an "essential element" of religious life, the very legitimacy of these congregations seems to be east into question--surely a seri-ous, perhaps even disastrous, consequence for the groups involved. What is needed, therefore, is some alternative to charism, some concept that is more in accord with the historical reality of many institutes and legitimates their experience and continued existence. It is unlikely that my consideration here will arrive at any defini-tive conclusions, but I hope to suggest some alternative ways of thinking that may prove useful in framing the historical and cur-rent context of sisters' experiences and perhaps assist in the pro-cess of religious revitalization and renewal. At the very least, from my ongoing research into women's religious life in the 19th-cen-tury United States, I think I can explain why the emphasis on "charism" in contemporary thinking about religious life is prob-lematic and historically unjustified, at least as a universal norm. Before we proceed, a few assumptions need to be made explicit. First, I believe that some congregations do have a charism and that in some cases it is traceable, at least in some degree, to an individual "founder." In other instances, its origin may lie with a founding group of individuals (a "founding generation"), while in still others a charism may have emerged later in a community's history--or a buried, neglected, or even repudiated charism may be discerned or refurbished by subsequent generations. Second-- and in this I am confirmed by the usages of several scholars as well as by both Paul vI and John Paul II--I believe there is also some-thing generic that can be called "a charism of apostolic religious life." Third, the lack of a particular charism does not render an institute (or its members or ministries) less significant, "spiritual," or legitimate than those which do have such a "gift":--just as the existence of one does not indicate superiority or greater validity. Indeed, given that the use of the term charism in connection with religious life is of such recent provenance, its application to past experience--particularly if it is considered to be some sort of uni-versal norm--actually may be ahistorically anachronistic. The word charism, of course, is Greek and means "gift." In contemporary Christian usage, it refers specifically to a spiritual gift, that is, "a free gift of grace." Moreover, virtually all Catholic Review for Religious scholars agree that a charism is not solely for the benefit of its direct recipient; rather, "it is a supernatural gift bestowed by the Holy Spirit for building up the body of Christ" or, in simpler terms, a "divine spiritual gift to individuals or groups for the build-ing up of the community." Within the context of religious life, the charism presumably is received initially by an institute's founder, who transmits it on to her followers. It is this "gift of grace" which is to imbue the community with its unique character or identity; as Richard McBrien puts it, "the unique gift of the founder., is given to every member from one generation to the next."3 Between 1727 and 1917, at least 422 Catholic apostolic con-gregations of women religious were active within the United States.4 Some were short-lived, but four hundred of them contin-ued to exist in 1917, and the overwhelming majority are extant today. Of the 422, a total of 273 belonged to one of ten large reli-gious "families," each of which could trace its birth to a particu-lar founder or pair of founders (see Table 1). Thus, each of these could be presumed to be a beneficiary of the. "charism" of the per-son or persons with whom that family began. Moreover, many of these groups also regard themselves as having their own particular founders, who "re-visioned" the familial identity in some way that imparted a special or distinct character to it.s Table 1 U.S. Al~ostolic Women's Communities andTheir Religious "Families" . FAMILY FOUNDER(S) NO. OF COMMUNITIES Benedictine Benedict, Scholastica 32 Carmelite (reform) Teresa of Avila 3 Dominican Dominic 30 Franciscan Francis 54 St. Joseph Jean Pierre Medaille 27 Mercy Catherine McAuley 65 Presentation Nano Nagle 7 Ursuline Angela Merici 30 Vincentian Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marfllac 10 Visitation Francis de Sales and Jane Frances de Chantal 15 May-June 1999 233 Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? No one can or will deny that these communities have---since their founding, in most cases--been known by one of these "fam-ily names." Still, this begs some important questions. How many of even these congregations can be said to have been "birthed" into the charism of their family forebears? How many incorpo-rated themselves into a particular family with explicit awareness of the spiritual and ecclesial consequences? How many can assert with confidence that their history is one of explicit and consistent acknowledgment of and fidelity to that charism? In other words, to what extent did "charism" traditionally play a part in shaping the identities of at least some of these institutes? Alternatively, how many of them became, in fact, "generic" apostolic entities doing good work, composed of good (even holy) people, but ~undistin-guished by any familial or "particular" spiritual identity that would differentiate them clearly from others of theoburgeoning number of women's religious orders that came increasingly to "do their thing" in the United States in, the 19th and 20th centuries? Finally, most of the nearly one hundred fifty other women's congregations I have studied also assert that they have particular "founders' charisms." Are all of them justified in their claims? It naturally is impossible to provide in one article definitive answers to any of these questions. Instead, I intend to offer some representative examples from the histories of the communities I have studied, examples that I believe will demonstrate some of the major problems with the assumptions about charism that charac-terize so much of what has been said about religious life in the past quarter century. Let me emphasize thavnone of these exam-ples is unique; rather, each is suggestive of all-too-typical congre-gational experiences. Each indicates some aspect of why I believe that the notion of a "founder's?' or "founding" charism is so prob-lematic and why the notion may, in fact, do more to obscure the realities of women's religious history than to illumine it. The Most Common Scenario: Instrumentalism Throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries, the Catholic population of the United States exploded. As early as 1850, Catholics constituted the largest single body of believers in the nation, a ranking they have maintained ever since. But, hardly monolithic, they consisted of an ecer growing number of proudly distinct (and sometimes mutually antagonistic) ethnic groups, many Review for Religious of which came to the New World specifically to escape religious persecution or to preserve their cultural identities. Most were poor when they arrived in their new nation; few except the Irish spoke English. Their secular and Protestant neighbors greeted them with suspicion and often with overt hostility. Clearly, these were peo-ple with numerous and diverse needs to be met, and church lead-ers, beleaguered and fearful of "leakage" from the faith, sought ways to respond effectively. It is not surprising, therefore, that dozens of institutes were started in or brought to the United States to provide practical ser-vices, often to specific subgroups of Catl~olics. Both individual community histories by the score and various more com-prehensive works attest con-vincipgly-- and, before 1965, unapologetically--to what I call the instrumental motivation for so many foundations: to teach the ever growing number of school-age children,6 to provide healthcareand relief (primarily, of course, but not only to Catholics), and, increasingly, to work with persons from partic-ular immigrant groups who needed ministers who understood both their languages and their traditions and could both foster cultural survival and ease the pro-cess of Americanization. Others were started for equally functional purposes: to do housework for priests or to offer catechetical instruction to children outside the parochial schools. Consider, for instance, the following accounts of foundings, taken almost randomly from the 1964 edition of Thomas McCarthy's Guide to the Catholic Sisterhoods of the United States-- perhaps the most successful comprehensive "vocation book" ever published in this country:7 [Sisters of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin:] A school, but no teachers, and none to be had from any religious commu-nity in spite of numerous requests by Father Jean Harper. ¯. He decided to act upon his curate's suggestion: "We can-not obtain nuns? Then, let us make some!" And so the con-gregation came into existence . . (p. 192). Dozens of institutes were started in or brought to the United States to provide practical services, often to specific subgroups of Catholics. 235--- May-~une 1999 Thompson * Charism or Deep Story? [Franciscans of Tiffin, Ohio:] Father Joseph L. Bihn . . . founded this Franciscan community to help him care for the many children orphaned as a result of the Civil War. Three of his parishioners, Elizabeth Schaeffer, a widow, and her two daughters, formed the nucleus of this congregation. (p. 271). [Sisters of Sts. Cyril ahd Methodius:] The early 1900s was a critical period for the many immigrants from Slovakia who setded in the United States. Father Matthew Jankola of the Scranton diocese was keenly aware that this adjustment required not only the building of schools but also of secur-ing sisters to staff them. As a result of his efforts, this dioce-san congregation was established in 1900 (p. 189). [Sisters of the Holy Family, San Francisco, California:] "I have another work for you to do," Archbishop Joseph S. Alemany OP said to young Elizabeth Armer when she came to consult him about entering a contemplative order. The archbishop unfolded to the future Mother Dolores his plans for an insti-tute to give religious instruction to children who could not attend Catholic schools. (p. 295). [Little Daughters of St. Joseph:] Father Antoine Mercier, a Sulpician priest., who desired to establish a congregation of nuns who would consecrate themselves to the spiritual and material welfare of the clergy and seminarians, founded this community with the assistance of Miss de Lima Dauth, the co-foundress. On April 26, 1857, both began this eminently apostolic work of helping priests and seminarians by means of a life of prayer, self-denial, and manual labor (p. 36). [Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word, Houston, Texas:] "A multitude of sick and infirm seeks relief at your hands" was the irresistible plea of Rt. Rev. C.M. Dubuis when he went to France to seek volunteers to help him in his missionary labors in Galveston, Texas. Three young women answered his appeal and with these he founded the congregation in 1866. The community, which built the first Catholic hospital in the state, has papal approval and conducts twenty-six insti-tutions. (p. 120). 236 Where, in any of these stories, can one discern a charism? Ministry, yes; inspiring service to needy people, certainly. But two obstacles to discerning a "charism of the founder" recur in each instance. First, the reason each community came into being was functional, not charismatic. And, second, at least as these accounts would have it, the initiating impulse came not from the women who would offer to respond, but from clerics--men who, by def- Review for Religious inition, were persons outside of the community itself and thus hard to recognize as part of the group's intrinsic "lived tradition.''s Random Rule Selection and the Problem of Charism Every autonomous congregation has its own constitution, but, properly speaking, only four Rules (St. Basil, St. Augustine, St. Benedict, and St. Francis) were approved by Rome, and every com-munity had to select one of these as the basis for its organization and gov-ernance. 9 This helps to explain, for example, why so many women's con-gregations belonged to the Franciscan "family"--generally speaking, it was considered the most "flexible" of the four and therefore the easiest to adapt to a variety of instrumental purposes. To assume, then, that every commu-nity designated as "Franciscan" also and intentionally embodied a Franciscan charism requires an enor-mous leap of faith; in fact, even some founders who wanted to be "Franciscan" sometimes began by organizing themselves by another Rule. Two contrasting examples will illustrate the problem. First, there is that of the Sisters of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration, originally founded in Olpe, Westphalia, in 1859 (and eventually established in the U.S. in 1875). The founder, Mother Mary Theresia (Aline) Bonzel, had great devotion to St. Francis and wanted to be Franciscan, but one of her co-founders, Clara Pfaender, had previously belonged to a con-gregation which followed the Augustinian Rule. We may let the community's first historian, an unusually forthright individual, take the story from there: Aline Bonzel wanted the Franciscan Rule by all means. But seemingly she was not well acquainted with the basic Rule of religious orders . Clara Pfaender knew the Augustinian Rule from her convent days with the Sisters of Christian Charity. She felt she could write a constitution based on that Rule. Since she was the superior and responsible for admit-ting candidates into the community, it s~emed advisable, in this very beginning, that she have the liberty to employ her To assume that every community designated as "Franciscan" also and intentionally embodied a Franciscan charism requires an enormous leap of faith. 237 May-June 1999 Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? full experience in religious life. Only on this basis can one explain how a community which uniformly desired to live according to the Franciscan Rule began with the Augustinian Rule, but with the intention of later converting to the Franciscan Rule. In this procedure the character of the times can readily be detec(ed. Many most likely saw basically lit-de difference whether one lived according to the Augustinian or the Franciscan Rule. The development of a specialized spirituality came later and in many instances vqry much later. As this author put it elsewhere: So many religious congregations came into being in the 19th century, and many chose their Rule by chance. Charitable activity called, and congregations were founded to fill the need to serve God and man. With some it seemingly made no difference what religious Rule was followed, for all were good and sanctifying~ . . . Foundations flourished which at first simpl); set up the aciivities and objectives of the apos-tolate and later wrote the rule and constitutions. Often enough at the very beginning it was purely accidental rather than a conscious effort that one or the other rule took hold.l° Contrast this with the experienqe of the Sisters of St. Joseph of the Third Order of St. Francis (SSJ-TOSF). Their history has been recounted superbly in two volumes by Josephine Marie Peplinski; basically, the group owed its origins to ethnic conflict within the School Sisters of St. Francis. The School Sisters were predominantly German, and the founding SSJ-TOSFs were Polish members who, after many incidents distressing to them, decided in 1901 to break off and found their own congregation. They took the Rule and name of "Franciscan" with them, but their self-claimed identity was fundamentally Polish. Indeed, as Peplinski has docu-mented, part of the problem was that, for its first few decades of existence, the community's leadership was passed back and forth between two very different individuals, one of whom (Mother Mary F~licia Jasku, lski) had a real devotion to St. Francis, while the other (Mother Mary Boleslaus Rybicki) "moved the congre-gation toward a popular Jesuit interpretation of obedience and authority--military in tone." As Peplinski puts it, "She exerted great influence in developing the spirituality of the congregation throughout her lifetime . . . and afterwards through those who adopted her ideals. It is ~v0rthy to note that until 1940, fourteen years after Mother Mary Boleslaus's death, almost all of the retreat masters invited to th~ congregation were Jesuits." Peplinski describes tlie congregation during its first sixty years as a Review for Religious "Franciscan sisterhood adapted to the post-Tridentine paradigm of religious life serving the American immigrant church . A basic problem was that canon law rather than the gospel law of love was set up as the ideal." In fact, not until after Vatican II, under Peplinsld's own leadership (she led the congregation 1968-1976), did the SSJ-TOSFs make a concerted and systematic effort to dis-cover what "bein~ Franciscan:' was all about. But, while they in fact embrace a Franciscan spirituality as they enter into their sec-ond century, is it at all accurate, despite their name, to regard it as their "founding charism"?II What Happened to the Benedictines? .Peplinski's congregation was not the only one "adapted to the post-Tridentine paradigm of religious life serving the American immigrant church." What happened to the Benedictines was equally dramatic and potentially of even more profound conse-quence to what they were supposed to be all about. It is a com-plicated story, ably told from somewhat different perspectives by Judith Sutera, M. Incarnata Girgen, and Ephrem Hollermann.12 The first nuns came to St. Marys, Pennsylvania, in 1852 from Eichst~itt, Bavaria, where they had lived in a way that permitted full cenobitic, monastic observance, including recitation of the Divine Office and solemn vows according to the Benedictine formulary: stability, conversatio ("conversion of life"), and obedience, However, within less than ten years after their arrival in the United States, a complicated series of events ensued, resulting in fundamental alterations to their tradition. Stated simply, the right to take solemn vows was abrogated (because the women were unable to observe strict enclosure), pressures of "life in mission territory" (as well as the elimination of solemn vows) led to "permission" to miti-gate the requirement to recite the full Divine Office (allowing substitution of the Little Office of th~ Blessed Virgin Mary, parts only of the Divine Office, or ~ven rosaries and other devotional practices), the jurisdiction of community leaders was made sec-ondary to that of diocesan, bishops (who could, among other things, approve or reject the election of prioresses and the admission of new members--something unheard of, normally, in Benedictinism). Even the simple vows the women now professed wer~ not neces-sarily the Benedictine ones. As Sutera explains, some took the tra-ditional vows, some took the three vows common to other May-June 1999 Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? communities (poverty, chastity, obedience), Others took five vows and some four (not stability, because there were rumors that the women were to be reorganized into a large congregation complete with provinces, regional novitiates, and so forth). She summarizes the consequences this way: "What Rome had done was to create a canonical anomaly, a group of unenclosed monastic women who retained the right to the designation of 'O.S.B.' This right implied some recognition that they were nuns of the ancient order rather than sisters of a later congregation despite their simple vows. However, it left them as technically neither one nor the other. [Practically speaking,] they faded into the mass of apostolic orders." 13 Sutera and Hollermann's books, especially, are potent wit-nesses to the extent to which American Benedictines struggled over the following century both to respond 'to the ministerial and apostolic demands placed upon them and to remain as faithful as they could to their Benedictine heritage. Both accounts verify the existence and persistence of Benedictine charism, however "re-visioned" in the American context, despite the many and substan-tial obstacles put in the sisters' way. Thus, when Vatican II came along, with its call for renewal in the spirit of the founders, the Benedictines had a strong foundation on which they could rely. Nonetheless, the disparate experiences of the various autonomous foundations during the years between their foremothers' arrival in the U.S. and the postconciliar period raise important questions about how, and the extent to which, "fidelity to charism" shaped the historical reality of American Benedictine sisters. If one reads the descriptions of them in McCarthy's 1964 compendium, for instance, they seem virtually indistinguishable from the plethora of apostolic institutes that surrounded them.14 "Charisms" Buried, Repudiated, or Denied At least the Benedictines had a strong tradition, never com-pletely lost, that they could revitalize when called to do so by the Second Vatican Council, Others, however, were not so fortunate, The situations of those who chose their traditions randomly, or who were founded for largely instrumental purposes, have already been discussed. But what about those who did have more charismatic founders, whose legacies, for various reasons, were obscured or even rejected? Probably the most famous such case is that of the Institute Review for Religious of the Blessed Virgin Mary, founded by the remarkable Mary Ward in 1609; not until the papacy of Pius XI! were they able to claim her officially as the founder of their congregation. But other instances pertain more directly to the U.S. Catholic experience; here I will refer to just three of them (by no means the only ones). As late as McCarthy's 1964 Guide (p. 317), the sisters founded by Margaret Anna Cusack in 1884 were identified unqualifiedly as the "Sisters of St. Joseph of Newark" and were described as having been founded by "Bishop Bagshawe of Nottingham, England . . . in 1888." Then, we are told, Bishop Michael Wigger of Newark, New Jersey, "received the community into his dio-cese shortly after its establish-ment." The latter sentence, technically, is true, but the foundation was in 1884; by 1888 the controversial Cusack had left both Newark and the Catholic Church. The myth of Bagshawe's role, as well as the rather skewed chronology, evolved largely to bury the fact that this group's founder--a woman who did, I believe, have a charism and who had a very revolutionary vision for her community--was regarded at the time of her death as an "apostate." Dorothy Vidulich has provided a first-rate account of how Cusack's community rediscovered her in the aftermath of Vatican II, officially reclaiming her in 1970 as their founder and reclaiming, too, her original name for the congregation: the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace. Since then, the group has devoted enormous effort to uncovering and taking ownership of her and their charism; nonetheless, the fact that her very connection with the institute was buried for eighty-five years (starting less than four years after it began) makes it difficult to discern the extent to which her charism ever played a meaningful role in its earlier historical expe-rience. Is the identity of this community primarily traceable to Cusack? Or, like an adopted child, must this group, like it or not, acknowledge that other "parents" may actually have been more significant in shaping their ongoing lived reality? 15 American Benedictines struggled both to respond to the ministerial and apostolic demands placed upon them and to remain as faithful as they could to their Benedictine heritage. May-June 1999 Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? Which person or persons must be acknowledged as having contributed-- and how--to the congregation's actual history ? The founder of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, of Monroe, Michigan, was never, stricdy speaking, denied; her central role in the congregation's founding was, how.ever, unde-niably minimized and obscured. Theresa Maxis Duchemin was the offspring of an unwed "woman of color." Both her "race" (her mother was an immigrant to the U.S. from what now is known as Haiti) and her "illegitimate" parentage were, of course, problem-atic. So was the fact that she obscured both of them when she came to Michigan in 1845 to found the congregation ("passing" as "white")--in doing so, she left the commu- 'nity she had belonged to since 1829, the Oblate Sisters of Providence. (This group was the first African American con-gregation in the history of Catholicism. Duchemin was one of its first ,four members, its only American-born founder, and was onetime superior gen-eral of it. In the 1830s her mother, too, joined the community.) What perhaps contributed most, however, towards her role in Monroe IHM history becoming "shadowy" were her ongoing con-flict with Edward Joos (an early spiritual father assigned to the congregation by the bishop), her decision to establish a foundation in Pennsylvania (which the bishop did not approve of, and which soon turned into two), her subsequent conflicts with the .authori-tarian bishop of Philadelphia who succeeded Duchemin's beloved John Neumann, and tier resultant eighteen years of exile in Canada, during which she was forbidden contact with any of the three IHM communities she had founded. Eventually Duchemin was allowed to return to the Philadelphia foundation; ironically, however, only the Scranton one has always acknowledged her role in its begin-nings, In Monroe, meanwhile, Mother Mary Joseph Walker, who succeeded Duchemin as superior in 1859, was becoming regarded as the group's "true foundress," while Joos, who served 'as its eccle-siastical superior from 1857 to 1901, was referred to as the "beloved father." 16 How is a grouplike this to return to the "charism of the founder"? Even in the 1990s the Monroe community is ambivalent Review for Religions as to how it should refer to Duchemin: was she their "founder," their "co-founder" (along with Louis Gillet, the Redemptorist who called her to Michigan in 1845 and departed' abruptly two years later), or simply one of the "first four"? What about the "found-ing" and "formative" roles of Walker and, especially, Joos? At the time of the latter's death, his loss was apparently considered so traumatic that the then general superior "had to assure the sisters that it was possible for the congregation to continue without him." True, Margaret Brennan IHM has documented the persistence of certain very specific elements of Duchemin's spiritual legacy, even through the decades when her contribution was denied, but impor-tant questions still remain.~7 As with the Sisters of St. Joseph of Peace, which person or persons must be acknowledged as having contributed--and how--to the congregation's actual history? "The Most Reverend Archbishop William Gross CSSR of Oregon City founded [the Sisters of St. Mary of Oregon] in Sublimity, Oregon, in 1886 . A vastly scattered flock, with . only a few religious to care for them, made Archbishop Gross determined to establish his own community of sisters."18 It seems a typical 19th-century story; unfortunately, it has almost no basis in reality. The real root of this community is a group of lay peo-ple who more than a decade earlier followed a schismatic priest of the Congregation of the Precious Blood, Charle~ Albrecht, out of Ohio into exile in Wisconsin and Minnesota (where Albrecht died) and then moved (with Albrecht's body) on to rural Oregon. There a young,girl in the group--who had been "bequeathed" to the cultish "trusteeship" of a trio of laymen ("devotees" of Albrecht, whose body during many months after his death,was kept in a cof-fin mounted above the dining table in the group's community room in Minnesota and then, quite ossified, was transported illegally to Oregon)--sought help from some Benedictine monks of Mount Angel Abbey, who put the future Mother Wilhelmina Bleily in touch with Gross, who eventually "regularized" the status of those who sought it and provided official recognition for the "sisters." Shortly thereafter he deposed Wilhelmina from the superiorship to which she had been duly elected, brought in a sister from Wisconsin to provide "formation" for the. community, and reshaped its identity completely. Although the original sisters had retained a strong devotion to the Precious Blood from their Ohio heritage, for instance, Gross refused to allow them to include this in the name of their congregation. By the 1960s, after decades of denial, May-June 1999 9A2 Thompson * Charism or Deep Story? Inappropriate reliance for spiritual grounding upon "a" founder and her or his significance can lead to a spirituality that is static or reactionary. Wilhelmina's contributions had been forgotten (and her diary, which recorded all that had happened, both before 1886 and after, lay gathering dust in the community's attic, not to be rediscov-ered until a new motherhouse was constructed in the 1970s), and the only things that remained from their roots were a red cord (on which they wore a crucifix around their necks) and a vague acknowledgment of a "devotion to the Precious Blood," one among many devotions that had been accepted without explanation for several generations29 More than either of the other two groups dis-cussed. here, the SSMO's decision to bury its past (not to mention Albrecht's body) certainly is understandable. It is also under-standable that, because of their "rescue" from the "trustees" by Gross, this really rather remark-able group has always prided itself on its loyalty to and reverence for the hierarchy. But how to imple-ment that loyalty whe, n the hier-archy charges one with "restoring the founder's charism"? In this case, what are they to do with Albrecht, with the trustees, with years of schismatic and extremely odd cultic spirituality, with the deposing of Wilhelmina, and with the clearly subordinate status that "in gratitude" the SSMOs were expected to tolerate in the Portland Archdiocese for most of the yea.rs of their existence? In this paper I have offered reasons why emphasis on the founder's charism--which has characterized so much of post- Vatican II religious renewal--deserves reexamination regarding its relevance and utility to the histories (and subsequent revitaliza-tions) of many religious congregations. Clearly, in many cases it is not something that can be easily identified, and, in some cases where it can be, that very recognition leads to problems of a dif-ferent sort. I could have discussed other issues as well: that certain congregations owe their origins to groups rather than to individ-uals, that emphasis on "formal" founders (founders who have offi-cial canonical recognition from the [male] prelates charged with 9rid "verifying" the "authenticity" of a congregation, and many of Review for Religiotts whom, for women's congregations, have erroneously been identi-fied as men) tends to obscure the cumulative and ongoing respon-sibilities that all community members have for their collective spirituality, and that inappropriate reliance for spiritual grounding upon "a" founder and her or his significance can lead to a spiritu-ality that is static or reactionary. All of these matters deserve explo-ration; unfortunately, constraints of space in the present circumstances prevent their serious consideration here. What I do offer for present consideration is an alternative approach to "charism" that may prove of value to communities that recognize some of their own histories in what I have been able to include in this essay. It is developed most fully, perhaps, in a 1989 article in Review for Religious by Bernard Lee SM.2° Lee begins with a clear assertion: The "recovery of charism" may be one of the most unsup-portable and unnecessary burdens a religious institution has ever been asked to bear, because it cannot be done. Charism is not a property. It is not a possession. It is not transfer-able, not transmittable, and not controllable. Charism is a deeply historicized social phenomenon. It cannot be dupli-cated in any other time or place. Charism has never been a movable feast. (p. 124) Instead, Lee suggests the notion of "deep story" as an alter-native to the emphasis on charism. He defines this as a category of interpretation that comes out of structuralism, which is a method for interpreting group identity. It pre-supposes that group identity is rooted in a narrative structure, that is, in recurring patterns of relationships and social activ-ities. The narrative structure of any complex and interesting group, however, is extremely elusive because it is instinctual and unconscious even more than it is deliberate and self-conscious . Deep stories are exhibited in rituals that cel-ebrate them (for example, rituals of profession), in special words and phrases that belong especially to them. Stephen Crites says that all of these things are elusive expressions of deep stories (he calls them sacred stories) "that cannot fully be told, because they live, so to speak, in the arms and legs and bellies of the celebrants. These stories lie too deep in the consciousness of a people to be directly told: they form con-sciousness rather than being among the objects of which it is directly aware." (p. 126)z' What Lee intends to suggest by all this, I think, is the con-tinuous and cumulative process of a community's identity forma- Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? tion--its spiritual nature (my term), its history--which, of course, in sacred time and space, encompasses the present and future as much as the past. Thus, to turn to Lee once again, "the founder's or foundress's gift is not a community's charism. The real found-ing gift is a narrative structure that supported and reflected a charismatic event in the foundation's birth, and may do so again" (p. 129). But, as I understand this, it cannot remain static; instead, a "community of memory"--while "creatively rooted" in, or faith-ful to, its deep story--must always be on its way to the realization of a new charismatically gifted reality, one in which all members must participate and assume responsibility. I believe that the notion of deep story--as a paradigm--can help all of us cope with ongoing foundings and refoundings in religious life. Seen as participants in deep story, Wilhelmina Bleily, Charles Albrecht, and William Gross, Theresa Maxis Duchemin and Mary Joseph Walker and Edward Joos, Mary Felicia Jaskulski and Mary Boleslaus Rybicki, Margaret Anna Cusack, Theresia Bonzel, and Clara Pfaender, countless Benedictines, and tens of thousands of others, living and dead, can all find space and be "at home'--not comfortably, perhaps, or e~sily, but the Christian story, the deep story, is never easy or comfortable. It is, however, real, as real as the ongoing spiritual "gift" (dare I, after all this, say "charism"?) that has called so many over the centuries to fol-low the path of religious life. Notes ~ This essay was presented originally at the 1998 History of Women Religious Conference in Chicago. Though not every point is supported by refei'ences, this essay rests upon my decade-long research into the history of American women religious, including work in the archives of about seventy-five congregations and familiarity with virtually all the published materials on this subject, including historical and biographical works on over three hundred individual communities. On the subject of charism, I read all Vatican documents dealing with religious life, as well as approximately three dozen articles directly or indirectly on this sub-ject that have appeared in Review for Religious (U.S.A.) and Religious Life Review (Ireland). Many of the incidents and ideas recounted here are developed more fully in some of my previous publications; see, in par-ticular, "Discovering Foremothers: Sisters; Society, and the American Catholic Experience," U.S. Catholic Historian 5 (Summer/Autumn 1986): 273-290; "To Serve the People of God: Nineteenth-Century Sisters and the Creation of an American Catholic Religious Life," Cushwa Center Working Papers, Series 18, no. 2 (1986); "Women and American Review for Religious Catholicism, 1789-1989," in Perspectives on the Catholic Church in America, 1789-1989, ed. Virgina Geiger and Stephen Vicchio (Westminster, Maryland: Christian Classics, 1989), pp. 123-142; "Sisterhood and Power: Class, Culture, and Ethnicity in the American Convent," Colby Library Quarterly 25 (1989): 149-175; "Women, Feminism, and the New Religious History: Catholic Sisters as a Case Study," in Belief and Behavior: Essays in the New Religious History, ed. Philip VanderMeer and Robert Swierenga (New Brunswick, New Jersey: Rutgers University Press, 1991), pp. 136-163;."Cultural Conundrum: Sisters, Ethnicity, and the Adaptation of American Catholicism," Mid-America 74 (1992): 205-230; "The Validation of Sisterhood: Canonical Status and Liberation in the History of American Nuns," in A Leaf of the Great Tree of God: Essays in Honor of Ritamary Bradley SFCC, ed. Margot H. King (Toronto: Peregrina Publishing Co., 1994), pp. 38-78; and "Concentric Circles of Sisterhood," in Building Sisterhood: A Feminist History of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1997), pp. 1-21. For their insights into this subject, I offer my thanks to Ritamary Bradley SFCC, Thomas J. Costello, Barbara Garland SC, James Hennesey SJ, Mary Ann Hinsdale IHM, Elizabeth A. West ICM, and many of the participants in the Sister-L internet discussion group 2 In this, SCRIS reiterates a point made in a document it issued five years earlier, Mutuae relationes: "Bishops, in union with the Roman pon-tiff, receive from Christ the head the duty (see LG §21) of discerning gifts and competencies, of coordinating multiple energies, and of guid-ing the entire people in living in the world as a sign and instrument of salvation. They, therefore, are also entrusted with the duty of caring for religious chariSms" (§9); and "It is .the duty of bishops as authentic teach-ers and guides of perfection for all the members of the diocese (see CD §§12; 15; 35, 2; and LG §§25, 45) to be the guardians likewise of fidelity to the religious vocation in the spirit of each institute . Bishops, along with their clergy, should be. firm guardians of the specific character of each religious family both in the spiritual and in the apostolic field" (§28). These passages, as well as that from EssentialElements (§41), raise some serious questions about the autonomy and integrity of religious charisms, since the implication is that they cannot be presumed to exist "authentically" until those in (external) hierarchical authority say they exist. Certainly, this is a matter deserving of substantial Consideration; but, unfoi'tunately, that is outside the scope of this paper. 3 Wilfrid Harrington, "Charism," in A New Dictionary of Theology, ed. Joseph A. Komonchak et al. (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1987), p. 180; The HarperCollins Encyclopedia of Catholicism, ed. Richard E McBrien (HarperSanFrancisco, 1989), pp. 299-300. 4 These figures, as well as information included in Table 1, are derived from a detailed listing of all Catholic women's apostolic communities that I have located to date that existed in the United States between 1727 and 1917. Included in this list are com.munities which, for most or all of their existence, engaged in some form of active ministry. Thus, for May-June 1999 247 24S Thompson ¯ Charism or Deep Story? instance, contemplative Benedictines are omitted, as are purely contem-plative Visitation monasteries. In compiling these data, principal sources were: Elinor Tong Dehey, Religious Orders of Women in the United States, rev. ed. (Hammond, Indiana, 1930); Joan M. Lexau, Convent Life: Roman Catholic Religious Orders for Women in North America (New York, 1964), pp. 209-387 (Index of Orders); and Evangeline Thomas, Women Religious History Sources: A Guide to Repositories in the United States (New York, 1983), pp. 169-176 (Table of U.S. Founding Dates). Some information came from other sources, which are identified on the comprehensive list in my possession. s In that respect, they bear a similarity to the rest of the 149 U.S. con-gregations that have more individualized origins and have "founders" that they share, if at all, with only a handful of others. I shall return a bit later to the question of charism as it affects them. 6 All eight of the first indigenous communities of women studied by Barbara Misner in her landmark work, "Highly Respectable and Accomplished Ladies": Catholic Women Religious in America, 1790-18Y0 (New York: Garland, 1988), devoted most or all of their early ministerial energies to teaching. So did the vast majority of foundations initiated from abroad-- including the first in what is now the United States, the New Orleans Ursulines (founded in 1727). By 1884 the U.S. bishops, gathered at the Third Plenary Council of Baltimore and extremely concerned about "leak-age" from the faith, paid tribute to the success of these pioneers (and to their belief that the education of youth was the best way to keep people within the church) by their declaration that every parish in the country should establish at least one school within the next two years. That, in turn, increased the demand for religious teachers (the overwhelming majority of them women, and sisters), just as the "new immigration" (c. 1880-1917) from heavily Catholic eastern and southern Europe was get-ting underway. See also Gerald Shaughnessy, Has the Immigrant Kept the Faith? (New York: Macmillan, 1925); "The Pastoral Letter of 1884," in The National Pastorals of the American Hierarchy (1792-1919), ed. Peter Guilday (Washington, D.C.: National Catholic Welfare Council, 1923), pp. 280-282; Thompson, "Women and American Catholicism," p. 125. 7 This Guide (Washington, D.C.: Catholic University of America Press, 1964) appeared in six editions, the first in 1952 and the last in 1966. The 1964 edition was selected for use here because it appeared only one year before Perfectae caritatis called upon religious to renew themselves "in the spirit of their founders," thereby initiating the whole postconciliar emphasis on "charism." It should be noted that McCarthy acquired his information from the communities; therefore, these are the founding stories that the sisters themselves had identified and transmit-ted to him for inclusion. s I have written extensively elsewhere about the fact that many of these stories bear little or no resemblance to reality. That is, communi-ties which traditionally cited clerics as founders have, since Vatican II, in quite a number of cases, identified and reclaimed women as their prin- Review for Religious cipal initiators. Nevertheless, we cannot dismiss the significance of these founding stories (often recounted and thereby reinforced for several gen-erations) either. Whether or not men actually took the principal initia-tive in founding particular communities, it did affect the self-understandings of hundreds of sisters who were taught, and who believed, that the men had done so. 9 William Humphrey SJ, Elements of Religious Life, 2nd ed. (London: Thomas Baker, 1903), p. 164. 10 p. Lothar Hardick OFM, He Leads, I Follow: The Life of Mother Maria Theresia Bonzel, Foundress of the Sisters of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration, trans. Sisters M. Honora Hau and M. Clarahilda Fischer (Colorado Springs, I971), pp. 23, 30-31, 185-186. Ironically, perhaps, Pfaender later separated and founded her own religious congregation, which also was Franciscan (known in the U.S. as the Wheaton [Illinois] Franciscans): M. Brunilde Probst, The Burning Seak Mother Mary Clara Pfaender, 1827- 1882 (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1960). n The founding of the community is recounted in great detail in Vol. 1 of Josephine Marie Peplinski SSJ-TOSF, A Fitting Response: The History of the Sisters of St. Joseph of the Third Order of St. Francis (South Bend, Indiana: priv. pub., 1982, 1992); material here is taken specifically from Vol. 2, pp. ix, 49-50, 239 (italics in the original). Jaskulski was superior general for 1902-1908, 1918-1928, 1940-1942 (when she died); Rybicki was superior general for 1908-1918. Both were perpetually in leader-ship, either as head of the congregation or on its council, from its foun-dation until their deaths (Ryb!cki died in 1926); their lives, spiritualities, and contrasting administrations are described meticulously in chapters 1, 4, and 5 of Vol. 2. I also have written about the SSJ-TOSF story; see esp. "Sisterhood and Power" and "Cultural Conundrum" (see note 1). 12Judith Sutera OSB, True Daughters: Monastic Identity and American Benedictine Women's History (Atchison: priv. pub., 1987); M. Incarnata Girgen, Behind the Beginnings (St. Joseph, Minnesota: priv. pub., 1981); Ephrem Hollermann, The Reshaping of a Tradition: American Benedictine Women, 1852-1881 (Vv'inona: St. Mary's Press, 1994). ~3 Sutera, True Daughters, esp. chaps. 4-5 and pp. 38, 42, 53-56. 14 McCarthy, 1964 Guide, pp. 195-197. ,s Dorothy A. Vidulich, Peace Pays a Price: A Study of Margaret Anna Cusack, the Nun ofKenmare, 2nd ed. (Washington, D.C., priv. pub., 1990; orig. 1975); see also Irene Ffrench Edgar, Margaret Anna Cusack (Dublin: Women's Press, 1979); Margaret Anna Cusack, The Nun of Kenmare: An Autobiography (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, 1891). 16 The Monroe IHM story is told in fascinating detail throughout Building Sisterhood (see note 1, above); see, in particular, Marita-Constance Supan IHM, "Dangerous Memory: Mother M. Theresa Maxis Duchemin and the Michigan Congregation of the Sisters, IHM," pp. 31-67; Suzanne Fleming IHM, "She Who Remained: Mother Mary Joseph Walker and the 'Refounding' of the IHM Congregation," pp. 69-92; and Thompson, May-Jutte 1999 Thompson ¯ Cbarinn or Deep Story? "Concentric Circles," esp. pp. 5-8, and "Part l:The Context," pp. 25-28. L7 Fleming, "She Who Remained," p. 91; Margaret Brennan IHM, "'No Two Exactly Alike': IHM Spirituality," in Building Sisterhood, pp. 95-109; see also Rosalita Kelly IHM, No Greater Service: The History of the Congregation of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (Monroe: priv. pub., 1948), esp. p. 132. L8 McCarthy, 1964 Guide, p. 325. ~9 The SSMO story is told with honesty in Wilfred P. Schoenberg SJ, These Valiant Women: History of the Sisters of St. Mary of Oregon, 1886- 1986 (Portland: priv. pub., 1986)~ I also have read Wilhelmina's diary in the SSMO archives, Beaverton, Oregon. Three of the original members of the Ohio group left it during the days in Wisconsin and became found-ing members in 1869 (one of them first superior when the group was of officially established) of the Franciscan Sisters of Christian Charity in Manitowoc; see M, Teresita Kit~:ell OSF, Refining His Silver: Pioneer Days of the Franciscan Sisters of Christian Charity, Manitowoc, Wisconsin, 1866- 1911 (Manitowoc: priv. pub., 1979). This, among other things, serves to document the length of time that the: schismatic "cult" was in existence before the SSMO's "founding" in 1886. 20 Bernard Lee SM, "A Socio-Historical Theology of Charism," Review for Religious 48, no. 1 (1989): 124-135; see also Doris Gottemoeller RSM, "Befriending the Wind," Review for Religious 53, no. 6 (1994): esp. p. 811. n See also Stephen Crites, "The Narrative Quality of Experience," Journal of the American Academy of Religion 39 (1971). Open Wounds Be bold, twin brother. Probe the wounds doubt demands to see. The gash is but entrance to his heart. Pry it wide to penetrate the core. Review for Religious Demand and desire, too, are twins that seek to let his hallowed, hollow hands transform old hurts to quiet awe. , ~Eugene Cartier ELIZABETH McDONOUGH The Need for Self-Criticism: Affirmative Comments I n the United States the precipitous decline in numbers of postolic women religious since Vatican Council II will surely have far-reaching consequences for all segments of the church as the third millennium begins. Church-related educational and healthcare institutions will probably continue to be transferred to nonecclesial and sometimes for-profit auspices, and many Catholics may grow up unaware that apostolic congregations of women reli-gious exist as ways of life that could have appealed to them. ~ Recently, in commenting on the years of renewal in religious life since Vatican II, Sister Doris Gottemoeller RSM noted that "for the most part we have not identified and reflected on the learnings" from this experience and that "critical reflection on our present reality" has been lacking.1 She is currently president of the Sisters of Mercy of the Americas, is a recent past president of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR), was a participant in the 1994 Synod on Consecrated Life, and is one of the original members of the Catholic Common Ground Initiative. Her comments may represent a pivotal change in perspective by someone in an influential leadership position. And, since critical self-appraisal has been neither prevalent nor popular among American women religious since Vatican II, her comments may also represent a significant change at this time. Elizabeth McDonough OP has written the Canonical Counsel column in this journal since our issue of July-August 1990 and has contributed several other articles as well. Her address is P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. ,~'h~y-~une 1999 McDonougb * The Need for Self-Criticism Though voices of criticism have consistently been raised about the postconciliar renewal efforts of religious life--by members of the hierarchy, by diocesan and religious clergy, by lay people, and by sisters themselves--critical reflection from without or from within has frequently been openly excluded Or quietly ignored in many, and perhaps most, women's apostolic communities. Over the years, members of women's religious communities have, in both speech and writing, lodged various objections to the general direction the path of postconciliar change was taking, a path that people now see as leading to pos-sible demise. The objections made over the years concerned, among other matters, the tendency towards having women religious governed by groups or by intermediate administrative personnel rather than by specific individuals elected to particular offices; the steady move-ment towards (so-called) total-participation chapters, which fre-quently exclude actual participation for many sisters; the general abandonment of easily recognizable identity symbols, along with the failure to maintain various community practices that many found meaningful; the increased use of open placement regarding sisters' employment, with the concomitant results of expanded apostolic diversity, an inability of congregations to make or meet institutional commitments, and the lessening of opportunities for community living. But in many women's congregations such objec-tions have not been well received by leadership or by segments of the membership. Moreover, although explicit internal objections regarding prevalent renewal patterns seem to have diminished over the years and to be somewhat rare now, it seems that members who still wish to embrace a renewed but traditional form of religious life (and who may be in their sixties, seventies, or even eighties) now channel their efforts elsewhere because of their experience of func-tional or systematic exclusion from effecting changes in internal governance. Many now direct their energies to living the remain-ing years of their vowed life by witnessing simply to the values they have consistently embraced but felt circumstantially unable to practice during much of the course of renewal. That is, they now consciously seek opportunities to live in common, to share com-munity prayer, and to minister in an apostolate traditionally related to their charism. Meanwhile, younger members--that is, mem-bers mostly under fifty--have initiated regular intra- and inter- Review for Religious congregational gatherings and networking in search of mutual sup-port and deeper religious meaning. Regarding various community renewal policies and proce-dures, then, numbers of community members have voiced explicit criticism--and by their practice have made some implicit criticism unmistakably clear too. Beyond this criticism arising from within apostolic communities of women religious, critical assessments have come also from people outside these communities. These assess-ments have been met with a similar pattern of rejection. Comments that even border on being critical have been categorically discountenanced as arising variously from arrogant, intemperate, shallow, uninformed, traditionalist, or ignorant sources. Criticism from the hierarchy and diocesan clergy seems often to have been excluded because they are regarded as hopelessly embedded in patriarchy. Criticism from religious priests seems to have been judged unacceptable because they are con-sidered to be unduly influenced by their experience of clerical advantage. And criticism from lay people seems to have been readily rejected because many of them are viewed as harboring unrealistic expectations of a lifestyle in which they do not share. Indeed, a pattern of negative reaction to critical assessmentsof what has happened since Vatican II is evident in responses to a recent article concerning possible causes for the current dearth of religious vocations in some communi-ties) It often appears that only certain internal, ostensibly self-perpetuating authorities or select special-interest groups are judged as adequately expressing the renewa! process among women reli-gious. Any suggestion from any source that any viable religious life in the future might diverge from the direction envisioned by the prevailing progressive model seems to be all too readily con-sidered as patently reactionary, as categorically negative, as arro-gantly uninformed, as judgmentally ignoring women's unique lived Any suggestion from any source that any viable religious life in the future might diverge from the direction envisioned by the prevailing progressive model seems to be all too readily considered as patently reactionary. ;'~,lay-JuJle 1999 254 McDonough ¯ The Need for Self-Criticism experience, as unfairly critical, or as an emotionally immature attachment to a former way of life) Furthermore, as postconciliar renewal has continued, it is not only critical observations that have been shunned .by women reli-gious in this country. Significant research data and pointed rec-ommendations from comprehensi'be sociological studies have also been embraced only selectively and implemented only sporadi-cally. Results from the ongoing, multifaceted, and controversial "Sisters' Survey"--as formulated and conducted under the direc-tion of sociologist Marie Augusta Neal SNDdeN--were systemat-ically distributed to participating congregations, published in several books~ and regularly reported at national meetings of major superiors from 1967 through the late 1980s. In stark contrast, amazingly little attention has been given to the more recent findings of psychologists David Nygren CM and Miriam Ukeritis CgJ. These researchers surprised participants at a 1992 Chicago workshop when, in presenting data from their study on the Future of Religious Orders in the United States (abbreviated as FORUS), they announced that many religious communities in this country had only a "ten-year window" in which to alter the present course of decline if they wished to perdure many years into the third millennium. The conferences of major superiors (CMSM and LCWR) were directly involved in the planning and execution of the FORUS study, which rendered some startling results about reli-gious in the United States. Included in these discoveries were. a lack of role clarity among religious (especially in apostolic groups of women), a high degree of cultural assimilation by religious, a general ministerial invisibility of religious, a relative dearth of effec-tive leadership in most religious communities, an apparently less-ened inclination to sacrifice among religious, and a widespread loss of institutional commitments by religious congregations.4 More than half a decade has passed since Nygren and Ukeritis projected that there was only a "ten-year window" of opportunity for the viability of religious institutes in America. During this time the FORUS findings seem to have gone largely unheeded or to have been relegated to convenient oblivion. Could it be that this study was greeted with a less than enthusiastic response precisely because its findings were unpopular among the group being assessed? For, indeed, the FORUS results did not shower unbounded accolades on the postconciliar transformation of reli-gious life in America; did not unquestioningly advocate contin- Review for Religious ued pursuit of the progressive model of renewal, and did not offer unrestrained optimism for the future prospects of religious insti-tutes. Or could it be that the FORUS findings, perceived as being all too accurate, were simply too painful to accept and conse-quently were met with at least unconscious denial at individual and collective levels in most congregations, particularly those of women religious? Over the years, religious in several areas of expertise have also sounded calls for critical reassessment of current practices in light of the manifest patterns of continuing decline in religious institutes. These calls, too, seem largely unheeded. The historical and sociological analyses of Raymond Fitz SM and Lawrence Cada SM, which appeared in the mid 1970s, got little attention after several months of popular discussion. Their work said quite clearly that probably only a small fraction of the then extant communi-ties would successfully negotiate post- Vatican renewal efforts,s Might the brief notice that Fitz and Cada's anal-yses received.be due, at least in part, to their intimation that religious con-gregations over the centuries have had identifiable lifespans, that many con-gregations did not last long after a per-vasive experience of absolute doubt regarding purpose, and that this seemed to be precisely the situa-tion at that time for thousands of religious in America? In 1983 CARA (Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate) in Washington, D.C., published a translation of the 1972 land-mark monograph of Raymond Hostie SJ, Vie et mort des ordres religieux, on which the Fitz and Cada material was directly based.6 The introduction to this booklet, by historian Dolores Liptak RSM, explains its significance, its application to ~enewal among American religious and specifically women religious. But this, too, appears to have received only scant attention within women's communities in the United States. All through the early 1990s, Eleace King IHM, of CAR& pub-lished data about--and reasons for--the steady decline in voca- Religious in several areas of expertise have also sounded calls for critical reassessment of current practices in light of the manifest patterns of continuing decline in religious institutes. 255 May-,]une 1999 McDonougb * The Need for Self-Criticism tions to progressively oriented communities along with parallel data about the constant flow of vocations to traditional groups.7 Little note, however, has been taken of these results. At the beginning of this decade, David O'Connor ST offered a balanced and readable summary of the various cultura!, eccle-sial, theological, and ideological shifts that may be contributing to the (possible) disappearance of many religious institutes in this country; but his work is rarely cited or even referenced in reli-gious- life circles.8 In 1991 I myself published what the editor of America magazine referred to as a "trenchant critique" of the then prevailing trends in religious life, while the editor of First Things described it as "a first-rate analysis of what has gone awry in the many worlds of American religion."9 This analysis and critique received an overwhelming positive response from members of reli-gious communities around the world, but it was simultaneously greeted with resounding silence from those in leadership. Albert DiIanni SM has offered thoughtful considerations based on his experience of the renewal of religious life as it currently relates to religion, to modernity, to modern psychology, to com-munity, to decreasing vocations, and to certain laicizing trends in the post-Vatican II era; but his observations have been met with either studied unconcern or strident rejectionJ° And little heed has been paid to the recent, assessment of sociologist Patricia Wittberg SC that the future of most religious communities is severely limited--if not rather bleak---precisely because a coinci-dence of internal and external factors has resulted in a collapse of their ideological framework and a lessening or elimination of their functional supports.~ Regarding postconciliar religiousqife trans-formation, are only laudatory comments able to be perceived as having any meaning and value for communities of women reli-gious in America today? In many of these communities, a pattern of dismissing with studied disdain or even open derision any factual data that leads to disconcerting conclusions about their lives has been ill too evi-dent in the response to Ann Carey's recent book, a book (widely conceded to be well documented) that details decisions and actions taken in the decades since Vatican II within the conference of major superiors for women's institutes.~2 Note, hbwever, that Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN published a book earlier in the decade that traced precisely the same era of transi-tion and detailed most of the same topics, but from a different Review for Religious perspective and with less specific documentation.13 In contrast to Carey's work, the Quifionez-Turner book was well received and has been highly touted as an accurate portrait of renewal. Yet both books present renewal as deliberately intended and carefully planned. Both books address the influence of cultural context, the impa6t of the Sisters' Survey, the effect of feminist initiatives, the disruption from internal conference conflicts, the consequences of hierarchic confrontations, and other such topics in reference to postconciliar religious life. Both books name those who were instrumental in the renewal process at national and local levels in this country. And the authors of both books offer assessments of what has actually occurred. Could the disparity in recep-tion of these two works be due at least in part to the fact that the Quifionez- Turner book evaluates these happen-ings positively while the Carey book views the results as more than slightly wide of the mark envisioned by Perfectae caritatis? To be sure, journalist Carey is a laywoman who judged the evidence she amassed as anything but complimen-tary to the renewal process and those who directed it, and she called for critical reassessment of renewal results. On the other hand, Quifionez and Turner are women religious--both former executive secretaries of LCWR and both instrumental in effecting the postconciliar transformation--who judged the results thus far as entirely positive and urged further development along the same course of renewal. It is a truism of historical scholarship that those attempting an analysis of a set of events need a realistic broad familiarity with the historical context. But does this explain why the perspective on religious-life renewal presented by those who guided it should so readily be judged more accurate or more objective or more accept-able than the perspective of someone who has carefully pored over official documentation and verifiable data and has her own lived familiarity with post-Vatican II renewal? Could it be that negative assessments of religious-life renewal from whatever source are Could it be that negative assessments of religious-life renewal from whatever source are simply unacceptable to women religiousm for whatever reason ? 257 May-June 1999 McDonougb ¯ The Need for Self-Criticism t_g_ 1 simply unacceptable to women religious--for whatever reason? For an explanation of the present situation of decline and demise, are many women religious simply incapable of looking further than a speculatively fascinating and vaguely consoling convergence of sociological circumstances that impact religious life fr0m outside? Is none of the decline and demise of the past thirty-three years attributable to decisions made and actions taken within religious communities? Have dispersed ministries and secular attire (with lapel pins) and apartment living had absolutely no detrimental effect, whether expected or not? Are women religious able to look at none of the above? And, if so, why? Though the suggestion made ten years ago by sociologist Wittberg that the behavioral patterns among congregations of women religious might "actually be dysfunctional for organiza-tional survival" appears to have been effectively ignored, it may well identify a pertinent reality that needs to be at least acknowl-edged- if not directly addressed--by religious congregations of women today.14 And perhaps women religious would also do well to attend to the warning, offered in 1988 by psychologist Donna Markham OP, that the positive perception they had of themselves did not match the perception of others--something that did not bode well for vocations.~s Indeed, with rare exception, vocations have declined steadily throughout the decade since Markham's observation, and in most communities of apostolic women reli-gious the median age has gradually increased. " True enough, religious life is not merely a functional institu-tion, and it certainly ought not to be reduced to a numbers game. But is it unrealistic to suggest that a minimal number of members is needed for a community to perdure, to serve effectively, and to hand on a religious tradition? And, when women religious look over their shoulder for younger women walking in their footsteps and see no one there, is it really unfair to surmise that what they have been fashioning since Vatican II may not be a viable form of future religious life after all? Or, again, when congregations begin realistically to project that by the year 2010 fewer than ten percent of their members will be under sixty-five years of age, is it unduly critical to suggest that someone somewhere somehow may have made some decision(s) in the three-plus decades of post-Vatican II renewal that ought seriously to be reassessed and perhaps even altered? I think not. Review for Religious Indeed, on the part of women religious in America (and per-haps elsewhere in the world, too), some possibly difficult but gen-uinely constructive self-criticism and some corrective change of course in various aspects of postconciliar renewal ought to be hon-esdy welcomed.'6 And both may be long overdue, because the real-ity at issue has import far beyond the ever-dwindling numbers of ever-aging apostolic women religious themselves. Notes 1 Doris Gottemoeller, "Religious Life: Where Does It Fit in Today's Church?" in Review for Religious 57, no. 3 (March-April 1998): 146- 160. 2 Albert Dilanni, "A View of Religious Vocations," America 178, no. 6 (28 February 1998): 8-12. 3 See various responses to the Dilanni article (note 2 above) among letters to the editor in the March and early April issues of 1998. 4 David J. Nygren and Miriam D. Ukeritis, "The Religious Life Futures Project: Executive Summary," Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55; also. Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992): 257-272. s Lawrence Cada and Raymond Fitz, "The Recovery of Religious Life," Review for Religious 34, no. 5 (September-October 1975): 690-718. 6 Raymond Hostie, /,qe et mort des ordres religieux (Paris: Descl~e, 1972), translated for a limited English edition as The Life and Death of Religious Orders (Washington, D.C.: CAP, A, 1983). 7 See the CARA Formation Directory for Men and Women Religious (Washington, D.C.: CARA) as edited by Eleace King IHM for the years 1991, 1992, 1993, and 1994-1995. s David O'Connor, Witness and Service (New York: Paulist Press, 1990), pp. 145-162. 9 See, respectively, Elizabeth McDonough, "Beyond the Liberal Model: Quo Vadis?" Review for Religious 50, no. 3 (March-April 1991): 178-188; editorial in America for 13 July 1991; and "The Public Square," First Things, no. 17 (November 1991). ,0 Albert DiIanni, Religious Life as Adventure (New York: Alba House, 1994). " Patricia Wittberg, The Rise and Fall of Catholic Religious Orders (New York: SUNY Press, 1994). ,2 Ann Carey, Sisters in Crisis (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor, 1997). ,3 Lora Ann Quifionez and Mary Daniel Turner, The Transformation of American Catholic Sisters (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992). ,4 Patricia Wittberg, "Outward Orientation in Declining 259 May-June 1999 McDonough ¯ The Need for Self-Criticism Organizations: Reflections on LCWR Documents," in Claiming Our Truth, ed. Nadine Foley (Washington, D.C.: LCWR, 1988), pp, 91-105. 15 Donna Markham, "The Decline of Vocations in the United States: Reflections from a Psychological Perspective," New Catholic World 231, no. 1381 (January-February 1988): 13-17. 16 See, for example, the recent comments of Doris Gottemoeller, "Religious Life in Crisis," Origins 28, no. 36 (25 February 1999): 634- 638. The Treasure Long ago a rainbow arc'd my storm-tossed sky, and the pot of gold I found then is still bottomless. Since that serendipitous moment, faith has claimed its reality. I see with clarity--over the clouds, beyond the rains--that joy and pain alike qualify to mine the treasure, provide the coin to buy the Kingdom, here on the green earth for a time, and there in the meadows of Eternity. Anna Marie Mack SSJ Review for Religious LARRY N. LORENZONI The Annuario Pontificio The Vatican's "Pontifical Yearbook" and a Recent Editorial Decision Fourteen years ago the Religious Life Review, edited in Dublin by Father Austin Flannery OP, published an arti-cle with the catchy title "The Single Sex Church of the Annuario Pontificio." Its opening paragraphs noted the almost total absence of women's names in the church's official directory. The same article was later reprinted in Sisters Today with a milder title: "The Annuario Pontificio and Women in the Church." The Annuario Pontificio is the 4.25"-by-6.5" 2500- page yearbook of the Roman Catholic Church. Bound in red cloth with a golden papal coat of arms on the cover, it contains annually updated information about the College of Cardinals, all archbishops and bishops (with basic facts about their respective dioceses), all prelates and abbots, the secretariat of state, the Roman tribunals, congregations, councils, and commissions, the Vatican Library, the church's worldwide diplomatic representa-tives (nuncios and pronuncios), all the ambassadors accredited to the Holy See, the administration of Vatican City, all officially approved religious orders of men and Larry N. Lorenzoni SDB, a Salesian priest, served in the late 1980s as director of the documentation, information, and press office of Caritas Internationalis in Rome. Currently director of development for his province, he may be addressed at Salesians of St. John Bosco; 1100 Franklin Street; San Francisco, California 94109. 1999 261 A former noteworthy feature of the Annuario was the almost total absence of females in its pages. 262 Lorenzoni ¯ Tlse Annuario Pontifido of women, academies, atheneums, pontifical universities (six: Gregoriana, Lateranense, Urbaniana, San Tommaso d'Aquino [Angelicum], Salesiana, and the new Santa Croce), a number of seminaries and colleges, and various other institutes and cultural organizations. The Annuario closes with a hundred pages of historical notes and six hundred pages of alphabetical lists: names of all the dio-ceses, prelatures~ and titular dioceses (in their Latin adjectival form, Latin noun form, and modern Roman-alphabet form) and the names and page references of some 25,000 persons. It is a fascinat-ing book. Of the 151 living cardinals listed in the 1997 Annuario (to cite a rather significant fact one can easily cull from its pages), 4 were created by Pope John xxIII, 31 by Paul vI, and 116 by Pope John Paul II. A former noteworthy feature of the Annuario--it used to distinguish it from virtually eve .ry other directory in the world--was the almost total absence of females in its pages. The alpha-betical list at the end of the directory was conse-quently 99.99 percent male. Historical, doctrinal, and traditional considerations are essential for a proper understanding of this situation. One page from the 1985 article (in RLR) found its way to the Vatican underground and quickly became the subject of some interesting conversa-tions during my four years (1986-1990) at Caritas Internationalis, the church's worldwide charity wing. In the penthouses of Palazzo San Callisto, where the Caritas offices are located (near Santa Maria in Trastevere), lived a number of active and retired cardinals (Roger Etchegaray, Bernardin Gantin, Paul Poupard, Ferdinando Antonelli, Francesco Carpino, and Francis Arinze). I came to know best Cardinal Francis Arinze, from Nigeria, the genial president of the Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue. Occasionally I see him mentioned among the papabili and featured as a speaker on Mother Angelica's EWTN television programs. He is keenly intelligent and friendly, a good listener, articulate and ever an opti-mist. Open to new ideas, he weighs carefully all arguments against the truths of the faith and then follows them courageously t6 their logical conclusions. I remember in particular one conversation I had with him at Review for Religious Palazzo San Callisto, a conversation occasioned by some para-graphs from that December 1985 article (of mine) in RLR, which some friend had shared with him. The paragraphs are these: One glaring lacuna [in the Annuario Pontificio] is hard to understand, and even harder to accept, because of the anger it is likely to provoke today when everyone is being increas-ingly sensitized against all kinds of discrimination. I am refer-ring to the omission of the names of the superiors general of women religious where the individual congregations are listed with the address of the generalate and current information as to the number of foundations and of professed members. .This anomaly came to my attention when I needed to check the spelling of the name of the new mother general of our Salesian sisters. I had just looked up the name of the superior general of the Fathers of Mercy (whose ad I had seen in The Wanderer), so I turned instinctively to the Annuario for the answer to my question. It was not as sim-ple as I thought. For every male congregation, the name of the superior general is invariably given (and, in 99 percent of the cases, also that of the procurator general). One learns, for instance, that the Very Rev. John O'Brien is the superior general of the Fathers of Mercy (an order founded in 1808), even though the order has only seven members worldwide. Fifty-four religious orders of men have less than I00 pro-fessed members, seven have 25 or fewer, but in each case the name of the general is prominently displayed. I was chagrined to discover that in the case of the orders and congregations of women one looks in vain in the Annuario for the names of the mothers general. Some 120 of those congregations have a membership of over 1000 sis-ters. In vain did I look for the name of the superior general of the Salesian sisters, even though the Daughters of Mary Help of Christians, as they are officially known, have a worldwide membership of nearly 18,000. They are the sec-ond largest congregation of women in the church, after the 34,000 Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul. Such a discriminatory omission tends to reinforce all the worst stereotypes one hears about the institutional church and its treatment of women, since it conveys a number of admittedly unintentional but nonetheless inescapable mes-sages: (1) Women are of little consequence in the church. (2) The father superior of ten men is more important than the mother superior of I0,000 women. (3) Names of females, no matter how important, need not be listed in the Annuario because the church does not discuss matters of consequence with them anyway. (4)Male religious superiors are routinely consulted, and hence it is necessary to have their names listed May-June 199.9 Lorenzoni ¯ The AnnuarioPontificio in the Annuario, but listing the flames of the superiors gen-eral of women does not serve any useful purpose since very rarely does one need to know who they are and even less deal or correspond with them. (5) Sisters are supposed to accept obediently and without too many questions whatever Holy Mother Church says. Unfortunately, in the thinking of many, Holy Mother Church is often equated with male power structure. No dissenting voice was heard from those who had joined our conversation. Both retired Cardinal Francesco Carpino (a man of rare nobility, who died 5 October 1993) and Cardinal Francis Arinze agreed that the Annuario should at long last join the mod-ern age and list the names of women religious superiors alongside those of their male counterparts. But Rome moves slowly. The 16 December 1994 issue of Commonweal carried this item under its Et Cetera rubric: Speaking in support of requests by women's religious orders for an end to discrimination by the church against women, Archbishop Maurice Couture of Quebec pointed to the 1993 Vatican Yearbook (Annuario Pontificio); it lists the names of the superiors general of all institutes of men, but none of the names of the superiors general of women (Origins, November 3). Good for the archbishop, but he's ten years late. Writing in Religious Life Review for November-December 1985, our correspondent Larry Lorenzoni SDB [Correspondence, November 18] recalled turning to the Annuario to find the name of the superior general of the Fathers of Mercy, an order founded in 1808 which has seven members worldwide. The name was there: the Very Rev. John O'Brien. He also looked for the name of the superior general of the Salesian sisters, the second largest congregation of women in the church: nearly 18,000 members. No name. Some of the mes-sages conveyed (Father Lorenzoni, a kind man, says they are "admittedly unintentional but nonetheless inescapable"): "Women are of little consequence in the church; the father superior of ten men is more important than the mother supe-rior of 10,000 women; there's no point in publishing the names of women superiors because who needs to know them." I have before me the 1997 edition of the Annuario Pontificio. I see with some personal satisfaction that each religious congrega-tion of women now routinely carries, as an additional entry, the name of the mother general. The change can safely be labeled "routine" since it started with the Annuario's 1996 edition. Review for Religious No doubt, some gentle nudging by a few highly placed mem-bers of the College of Cardinals, as well as by bishops convinced that the previous practice was clearly discriminatory, helped level the field. Word eventually reached the offices of the Vatican sec-retariat of state, on which the Annuario Pontificio depends, and suitable action followed with the publication of the 1996 edition. A recent phone call to the secretariat of state enabled me to reach Angela Zanetti, a most personable and knowlegeable lady who was for twenty-six years connected with the production of the Annuario. Her new supervisor, Monsignore Fermenti, intro-duced her to me as a "walking encyclopedia on the history of the Annuario Pontificio." Here are some interesting facts from our con-versation: ¯ The first list of male religious orders (Istituti Mascbili) appeared in the 1838 edition of the Annuario. ¯ The first list of female religious orders (Istituti Femminih) appeared 98 years later, in the 1940 edition, without the name of the mother general. ¯ The two lists continued to be published (Ordini Mascbili first, Ordini Femminili second) in the years following, each order of men shouting prominently the name of the general, each order of women lacking that particular information. * At last, in the 1996 edition, for the very first time, the information concerning each religious order of women included also the name of the mother general, as had previously been done for even the smallest reli-gious orders of men. I am reminded of what Pat Paulsen, the late tongue-in-cheek presidential candidatei once said with his usual aplomb: "No one should be denied equal rights because of the shape of their skin." Subs'criptions to Review for Religious can flow b~ ordered,or renewedoby FAX; and paid forby Ma~terCard ~o'r Visd. FA~ the order form inside the back cover, or cALL our o~c~ ~wi~ "th your credit card number: IF~: 31z~-977~7362 0, ~'HONE: 314-977-7363 1999 JOAN A. RANGE Women and Canon Law Cbanon law, as a support for the life of the community of elievers, that is, the church, has a history almost as old as the community itself. Over the centuries, its formulation has not been the work of women, a fact that is readily understandable. Women did not have the status nor society the liberality for that kind of contribution. Women were, however, a vital part of the church and society: in the church as members of the various ordines that supported the living community and in society as wives and mothers2 History witnesses to this fact and those roles. Women's lives, moreover, were guided by the protection, pre-scriptions, and sanctiohs of the church's law. In church courts of the ¯ Middle Ages, women were parties to suits brought against alleged violations and also were sued for alleged violations of others' rights. The activity of women in the world of canon law is well attested to in the church's history.2 But as members who formulated the law or who addressed the church's courts (defending others or doing advocate work for oth-ers) or judged cases (even as collegiate judges), all this women never did until this century. In this century women have performed all these functions in their own right as members of the church and as canon lawyers. The future is clear for their continued func-tioning to be even more vigorous. This rather astonishing fact needs consideration. Given the absence of women in all these roles before this century, how did this change come about? Joan A. Range ASC is associate professor in the Department of Theological Studies at Saint Loui~ University. Her address is Humanities Bui_lding; 3800 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Relig4ous Women's Status in Canon Law ~ Before this century, as a rule women's status was that of persons limited before the law. Mostly, women were considered--as were minors and the mentally incompetent--unable in their own person and name to bring a case before the court. This reflected Roman law, from which much of canon law is derived. When, however, asso-ciations of women became moral persons with rights and duties in the law, they were able to bring cases to court, as history shows. Besides bringing cases to the church's tribunals when their rights were being infringed or violated, women were also sued by others if the petitioner felt that his own rights were being infringed or violated by women. This was often a matter of property rights. As time progressed it might also be a matter of marriage rights as well, especially when it concerned the legitimacy of children and their right to inherit. Other than these cases, however, women's presence in~ the laws themselves usually had to do with their status within the church and society, that is, as daughters, wives, moth-ers, widows, nuns, or women of ill repute. Beginning early in the church's history, the protection of wid-ows and orphans was a great concern since these groups were socially the most vulnerable. As time passed and Roman law found its way into the church's mentality, other laws concerning women were developed to protect the virgin from marriage if she resisted, from abduction and rape, and later as a member of a community of consecrated women) Most of the legislation had to do with the women as wives and mothers, however, and especially with their ability to bear children. Laws agains.t adultery, contraception, and abortion were the most prominent since they infringed upon the husband's potency, paternity, or virility.4 Apart from these matters, women as individual persons were not dealt with in the church's laws. The 1917 Code did not always treat women equally with men, as studies testify.5 The 1983 Code, in contrast, states that the "there exists among all the Christian faithful a true equality with regard to dignity and the activity whereby all cooperate in the building up of the Body of Christ in accord with each one's own condition and function.''6 The excep-tion to this is when the nature of the case clearly indicates other-wise, such as the laws having to do with ordination.7 Women began to engage themselves in the activities of the Canon Law Society of America (CLSA) since about the middle of this century. It is that story upon which we now focus. May-June 1999 ,267 Range * Women and Canon Law Women and the Canon Law Society of America The pivotal event for the growth in female membership in the CLSA was the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965).8 Before that event there were clear hints that the status of women in the world and in the church needed to be addressed.9 The council documents, too, indicated those concerns,l° In the United States, women's professional involvement in canon law began in the mid 1960s. Clara Marie Henning, the first woman to become a member of CLSA, applied for membership in 1968. She was then a student in the School of Canon Law at the Catholic University of America, from which she later received the licentiate in canon law (JCL). Other women were members of the CLSA, but their reason for membership was their position as supe-riors of religious orders, not their status as canon lawyers. Even before Vatican II, beginning with Pope Pius XrlI, efforts had been made by the church to bring about a simplification and an updating within the various orders and congregations of women religious worldwide.~ This was a remote cause for interest in canonical matters and membership in the CLSA. After the documents of the council and the implementation decrees of Pope Paul vI had been issued, there was a need and desire to learn about canon law and its usefulness in the efforts of religious congregations toward adaptation and renewal. These efforts had a significant effect on the work during the 1970s toward formulating the new and revised Code. Initially, then, the impetus for women to become members of the CLSA was that congregations of women religious might derive more benefit from canon law. Another reason for women to begin studying canon law and to become members of the CLSA was an academic one. As Catholic universities opened graduate programs in theology for lay people, some women students became interested in pursuing degrees in canon law. This interest included both the relation of canon law to theology and the historical development of canon law. The membership records of the CLSA are limited in a number of ways. For many year~ the records were the responsibility of the coordinator and were not kept in a permanent office. It was only in 1980 that a full-time director and staff began to have an office (with a permanent place for records)at the Catholic University of America. The records up to 1979 were given to the Cushwa Center for .the Study of American Catholicism and are available there as archival records. The membership records are incom- Review for Religious plete, however, because they were not systematically kept, a not uncommon omission when an organization's importance is not understood in its early days22 Nevertheless, the records show a remarkable growth in female membership after the mid 1960s. In 1968 there were hardly five women members. In 1971 the first woman was elected to national office in the CLSA.13 This event witnessed to a movement within the society to include women as active members. In 1976 there were 38 women members; by 1984 there were 139. The 1990 directory lists almost 200 women members.~4 At' the time of the 1996 direc-tory, the female membership stood at 223 out of a total of 1557 members, or about 14 percent. The history of the growth of the membership of women in the CLSA is part of the growth of la~Yomember-ship. Already in1,37 the CLSA's committee on membership was concerned with appropriate criteria. The concern was not specif-ically about women, but about qualifications that would assure that interested persons, lay or clerical, would have knowledge about the science of canon law. Before this point a potential mem-ber was sponsored by a current member and his name given to the committee on membership for its approval before being voted on by all those gathered at the national convention. That this rather cumbersome way of enrolling new members needed to be revised was a common opinion at the time. Thomas J. Lynch,~5 chair of the committee on membership, wrote in a report to the board of governors that, in the proposed revision of the constitutions (1967), the CLSA will "rid our con-stitution of any unnecessary clericalism and will also insure that the active and voting membership of the society will be composed of persons whose professional qualifications give them a special com-petence in matters of renewal and revision of law." ,6 As executive secretary, after receiving increased correspon-dence from many interested parties, James Provost laid his con-cerns about qualifications for membership before the board of Initially, the impetus for women to become members of the CLSA was that congregations of women religious might derive more benefit from canon law. Mt{y-June 1999 Range ¯ l, Vomen and Canon Law governors.'7 In 1980 a constitutional amendment was finalized requiring a person to have a degree in canon law in order to be an active member. Others could be associate members, but without the right to vote at the conventions.~s In 1995 a survey was distributed to women members at the annual convention held in conjunction with the Canadian Canon Law Society in Montreal. Its purpose was to discover the experi-ence of women as members of the CLSA. One hundred three responses were returned, with seventeen women indicating asso-ciate membership, the rest active membership. The responses demonstrated a positive experience within the society; there were a few exceptions, but even they did not indicate major difficulties. One commented that the CLSA was "one of the best kept secrets of the American Church." A tone must have been set many years ago, another respondent speculated, to be inclusive of women.19 Although there is no documentation of a policy decision that ver-ifies that statement, the facts sifice 1968 attest to its reality. The inclusion of women on committees, their election to national posi-tions as officers and consultors, and their presentations at plenary sessions and seminars during regional and national conventions-- all this has been remarkable over the last thirty years. Already in 1971 a woman was a member of the religious-affairs committee; in 1972 a woman was on the legal-council committee as well.2° Twice women have been elected vice-president/presi-dent- elect and have assumed the full responsibility of that office. This office is a challenging one for its incumbent, whether male or female, and certainly for a nonordained female. In addition to chairing the board of governors, the president's responsibilities include communications with the hierarchy of the United States, with the various dicasteries of the Vatican, with the canon-law societies of other countries, and with the members of various dioce-san offices throughout the country. The leadership of the society is challenging internally also, since most of the members are still clerics, including bishops, archbi.shops, and cardinals. Besides the increased membership of women in the society and their activity within it, the agendas of the CLSA have been modified because of the interests of the women members and the" commitment of the leadership and membership to women's issues. Already in 1970, at the national convention in New Orleans, a resolution was passed that stated: "The Canon Law Society of America instructs the subcommittee of its task force on the revi- Review for Religious sion of the Code of Canon Law to study the canonical institutions concerning the dignity, freedom, rights, privileges, offices, and obligations of women in the church and to propose those changes necessary to ensure the equitable consideration of all persons regardless of sex by the law of the church.''2~ In 1973 the society cosponsored with the Adrian Dominican Sisters a meeting of canonists and theologians at their college, Siena Heights, to address the question of the ordination of women from a variety of per-spectives?~ In 1972 the board of governors established an ad hoc com-mittee on the status of women in the church; it became a regular committee in 1973.23 At the conven-tion of 1975, Margaret Brennan IHM presented a major address titled "Standing in Experience: A Reflection on the Status of Women in the church." In 1976 a symposium was held at Rosemont College in Pennsylvania on Women and Church Law; in view of the revision going on at the time, it studied how the law addresses women. It published a con-sensus paper, signed by the twenty-four participants, with sug-gestions concerning how the church in the United States might address some of the inequities from which women suffered.24 In 1987 the members of the committee on women raised the question of its future viability. Even though it regularly invited the society's membership to present it with significant issues, the committee had little business to deal with, This was the reason for the eventual elimination of this committee. Its concerns were taken up by a new committee on the laity in the church?5 From 1988 on, some members of the CLSA were involved with the canon-ical dimensions of the U.S. bishops' Letter on Women that was eventually published in 1990.26 A resolution was taken by the society in 1992 to study the question of the diaconate for women. In 1995 the report by the ad hoc committee, "The Canonical Implications of Ordaining Women to the Permanent Diaconate," was presented to the national con-vention and accepted by the membership.27 This document received a wide distribution to other professional societies and to the National Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB). A resolution was taken by the society in 1992 to study the question of the diaconate for women. 271 May-.Tune 1999 Range ¯ Women and Canon Law With the promulgation of Pope John Paul II's apostolic let-ter Ordinatio sacerdotalis stating that the church has no authority to ordain women, the activity of the society on some of these issues perforce ceased, and no new initiatives on this issue have been forthcoming. Some study is being done on the question of the laity sharing in the power of jurisdiction, obviously an important issue, for .lay people function more and more in various offices in the church, It remains to be seen, however, if gender-specific issues will continue to inform the society's agenda. Participation in the annual conventions also reflects the change in the presence of women. In 1967 there were no women at the national convention. In 1968 the female participants were superi-ors of religious orders. In 1969-1970 some women religious were present as well as some major superiors.2s In 1971 there were 9 women registered at the convention in Atlanta, out of 224 partic-ipants. As more and more women begame members of the CLSA, more and more of them have attended both the regional and national conventions.29 In the women's responses to the question-naire mentioned above, they noted the quality of exchange at both regional and national conventions. They are a continuing educa-tional experience for the female membership, as they are for oth-ers who attend these meetings. 272 Women's Education in Canon Law It is clear that many of the women members of the CLSA are active members with degrees in canon law. The obtaining of these degrees is a completely novel achievement in the history of women and canon law. In North America there are two schools from which a woman can receive a degree in canon law: the Catholic University of American in Washington, D.C., and St. Paul University in Ottawa. Most U.S. women have chosen one of these two schools for their canonical education. Among the European schools, most women have chosen the Angelicum, which teaches courses in English, and a few the Gregorian, which until onl~ recently taught its courses in Latin. In 1990 John E. Lynch CSP published an interesting and infor-mative article about the history of the Department of Canon Law at the Catholic University of America, "Laying Down the (Canon) Law at Catholic University.m° The occasion for the article was the centenary of Catholic University. In it he remarked that in Review Jbr Religious 1959 women were enrolling in canon law in Rome.3' That had not yet occurred in North America and not at Catholic University, but it would occur in 1967. The first woman to enroll was Clara Marie Henning, a native of Germany. After that, the numbers of women students increased gradually and now have remained con-stant for some time. The first women students, except for Ms. Henning, were women religious.32 The topics of their theses and dissertations represented the concerns of women in the early 1970s, after the close of the council: religious formation, authority, the LCWR, the legal status of women, the pastoral nature of canon law.3~ Besides this continued interest in the concerns of women religious, later tides indicate an interest in the position of lay people in the church: for example, participation in the munus sanctificandi, and ministry and the layperson.34 Still later tides indicate a broadening of inter-est: for example, the relation of canon law to civil law, and the relation of bishops to diocesan church institutions. Licentiate (JCL) theses usually presaged what those who con-tinued on to the doctorate in canon law (JCD) would write their dis-sertations about. Many of the topics arose from the first draft of the soon-to-be-revised Code: lay employees, rights and obligations of Christian parents, tribunal personnel. Also, a number of theses compared the historic 1983 revision with the 1917 Code. When women first entered Catholic University's Department of Canon Law as students, it could be presumed that they would make a difference in the classroom. After the early wave (women religious, all but one), a number Of lay women as well (and men, too) entered the ranks of students. To assess this presumption of difference, I seized an opportunity to interview the faculty of the department in December 1996: Father James Provost (chair), Father John E. Lynch CSP, Father Thomas Green, Father Edward Pfnausch, Sister Rose McDermott ssJ, and Father John Beal.3s Their reflections on the difference women make are interesting and substantiate what I consider an exceedingly important dimen-sion of women's contribution to canon law, that is, women's human-izing effect. Every one of the faculty indicated that the presence of women made the conversation within the class richer; the questions they asked and their observations were different from the ques-tions of the traditional clerical students.36 At first the women stu-dents did not know some of the vocabulary (nor did entering laymen). One of the faculty recalls mentioning the title "vicar May-ffune 1999 273 Range ¯ Women and Canon Law forane," a term completely unfamiliar to the women. But, when this and other technical phrases were learned, the difficulty was sur-mounted. Women and men, according to ~he faculty members inter-viewed, are equally intelligent. A number of them indicated that women seem to work harder, perhaps to catch up with the clerics because of the unfamiliar discourse, perhaps because of a greater personal commitment to learning the field. By and large women are eager students and indicate an appreciation for the dedication of their ifistructors. They suffered from some rather mediocre teaching, but the men suffered from them equally with the women.37 No resentment toward women students precisely because of their gender, however, seems to have marred their educational experience, Women have been elected to leadership within the student body and have functioned well in those positions. They quickly initiated social events that, rich in student exchange, aided schol, arly interests along with providing amiable relaxation. The male students in those same positions of leadership had not been as cre-ative in these important social dimensions of student life. The mission of the faculty in this department derives from their conviction that canon law is g/tided by its theological and pastoral nature. This conviction permeates the curriculum and challenges the students to understand it as an ecclesial discipline, a sister to scriptural, systematic, moral, and church-history stud-ies and influenced by the conclusi6ns of those studies, even as canon law has an influence on them. This understanding of the nature of canon law informs the entire curriculum and therefore shapes the intellectual formation of the students for their future careers as canon lawyers. In my discussions with the faculty, the question arose about the influence of feminism on canon law. In general, the faculty agreed that the agenda of feminism, as various as it is, does not signifi-cantly influence either the students or the classes. Earlier on, given especially the newness of women to the field, the place of women in the 1917 Code, and the questions about women's place in the revised Code, women's'issues had more sig-nificance than they currently have. At that time (through the 1970s) some of the female students manifested some anger due to these issues. Today, however, the nature of law seems to move the direc-tion of the students' questions and concerns much more than gen-der issues do. The women students are not angry, nor are their Review for Religious instructors. Rather, they are typical students focused on complet-ing their studies and finding positions that fulfill their educational goals. The question of secure employment in the church, with its attendant concerns, is more of an issue with them, women and lay men alike, than gender issues. However, as justice issues, gender concerns remain for both instructors and students, now usually subsumed in the issues of the role of the layperson in the church. Women's Involvement in. Writing Canon Law Perhaps the most original activity that women have engaged in regarding canon law is the actual writing of legislation intended to be incorporated within the revised Code of Canon Law. Whether or not the canons made their way into the final text of the 1983 Code is not the point here. Rather, it is the activity itself, utterly newin the history of the church as far as I have been able to determine. How did this creative effort on the part of women begin? Sister M. Luke Tobin SL, president of the CMSW from 1964 to 1967, was invited in 1964 to be an official observer at the Vatican Council during the 1964 and 1965 sessions. This invitation itself indicated that the council fathers wanted the participation of women in the process of developing the church's self-understand-ing in the modern world?8 The law of the church, canon law, needed to express this new self-understanding ,as well. In the United States, women religious felt that their experience of their own lives as women religious was an important contribution towards an appropriately revised Code of Canon Law. This activ-ity would engage many of the members of the CMSW during the late 1960s and the 1970s. The board of CMSW began in 1965 to consider writing the regulations for ~governing the lives of women religious in the Code of Canon Law)9 It initiated a project for accomplishing this. Committees were formed in the several regions to write proposed canons dealing with the various aspects of religious life: the vows, authority, community life, formation, apostolate, prayer, and so forth. At the annual conventions of the CMSW from 1967 to 1971, the committees gave reports about the progress of their work. Eventually the conference published a document containing the proposed norms. It received a wide distribution in this country May-June 1999 275 276 Range ¯ Women and Canon Law and abroad, going to all the religious congregations and to the bishops.4° As this endeavor continued, the confidence of the women grew; they recognized the possibilities of the project. Moreover, they sought assistance from canonical experts to assist them in this unique activity. The CLSA was instrumental in assisting the various committees in this endeavor. Father Paul Boyle CP, a canon lawyer, was out-standing in his leadership in this area for women religious.4' Already as president of CLSA, he had communicated his vision of including women in the revision process. Later, as executive sec-retary, he increased his activity along this line. The recognition by the canonists of women's lack of education in canon law led to the establishment of summer institutes for a number of them. Certificates were earned and credit gained for these educa-tional endeavors. Father Kevin O'Rourke OP assumed the respon-sibility for these institutes by sponsoring them, developing them, enlisting the faculty for them, and negotiating their locations. They were held in different Catholic colleges in the country. A number of the graduates of these programs later completed their education in canon law at pontifical schools of canon law. Besides this educational assistance, the CLSA, following Paul VI's Ecdesiae sanctae (1966) implementing the conciliar document Perfectae caritatis, developed institutes to assist women religious in managing the process of renewal in their congregations. Pope Paul's decree instructed communities to hold general chapters to write their constitutions and to somehow engage the entire con-gregation in that effort. Experimentation, too, was mandated. Experimentation and writing canonical documents were some-thing for which most religious communities needed assistance. These endeavors of the CLSA were empowering experiences for the women and their religious communities. Hitherto the women were by and large ignorant of canon law and canonical procedures. They were, however, well-educated, intelligent, competent leaders within their religious congregations and deeply committed to the renewal that the church had mandated. The assistance of the CLSA empowered them and many other women in their congregations. Enthusiasm to recover the origins of their congregations, to learn about the remarkable women who had founded them, to encounter the Word of God through a knowledge of the Scriptures, and to assess the needs of the world through a study of the "signs of the times" generated an enormous energy within these communities.42 Review for Religious The results of this monumental effort have not yet been com-pletely assessed. Many studies today record it, some positively, other negatively, but it is still too close chronologically for it to be judged adequately.43 The energy, however, remains within reli-gious communities, smaller and older though they may be. Initiatives in forming new kinds of religious communities con-tinue in the church as well.** The renewal enterprise conducted among the CMSW, the reli-gious communities, and the CLSA is one of the finest stories to come out of the post-Vatican II Church. It included not only these organizations, but also the hierar-chy of the United States. There was an extraordinarydemonstra-tion of mutual encouragement and support among these diverse orga-nizations regarding the revision of the Code of Canon Law. The pos-sibility of participating together in the revision of the canons that governed the life of women reli-gious was realized through this " effort. The Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM) was obviously interested in the same endeavor.4s The Canon Law Society of America responded to the announcement by Pope John XXIII as professional canon lawyers whose expertise was not sim-ply in the practice of law, but in developing it through the proposed revision process.46 These three organizations joined in this endeavor with an unusual demonstration of cooperation. Besides these, the bishops' conference in the United States became the conduit through which the efforts of the organiza-tions were channeled to the Pontifi(al Commission for the Revision of Canon Law, whose responsibility it was to finally formulate the revision. Communication among these organizations was full of enthusiasm and respect. There was no hint of competitiveness, no turf war, no condescension toward women, who were at that time uneducated as canon lawyers. What was desired from the women was the expression of their experience of their own lives and their reflection upon that experience. The mutuality of this common endeavor is one of the finest examples of how women and men can work together to accom- Experimentation and writing canonical documents were something for which most religious communities needed assistance. 277 May-.~une 1.o99 Range * Women and Canon Law plish something for the benefit of all. As the process of revision continued, difficulties emerged, of course. When the canonical text, the Code itself, and the communities' constitutions were finalized and promulgated, the energy that had informed the orig-inal process waned. The vitality of experimentation, of developing powerful and inspiring texts, of consulting all the members of communities in that effort, of creating a vocabulary that resonated with the language of the documents of Vatican II and with the pat-rimony of individual communities--all this vitality wound down as perhaps it inevitably had to after final, authoritative texts were promulgated. As rdigious communities developed their constitutions during these years, their experience shaped their identifies in a remarkable way. The expressions within many of these constitutions were utterly original as documents for identifying and regulating the lives of women religious. In the process of havin~ their constitu-tions reviewed, both the Congregation. for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life and the individ-ual congregations had much to learn. Although by now most of the problems have been resolved, there are still some communities that do not have their constitutions approved. This phenomenon bears the marks of the encounter between creative initiatives, orig-inal expressions of religious life, and traditional modes of canon-ical expression. The Code defines the constitutions of religious communities as' their particular law. The universal law within the Code presents the guidelines for the constitutions, but does not provide their content. Nevertheless,.the originality of many of these documents from religious communities presented new difficulties for both the congregations themselves and the Vatican officials, who had never seen such documents before. This encounter has been very instructive for all the institutions involved. With the promulgation of the revised Code of Canon Law in 1983 and with the finalization of their constitutions, women are no longer engaged in writing the law that regulates their lives. Periodically constitutions need to be resubmitted to the church for approval. Calls for change and for dispensations are part of the regular communication between the Vatican and women's con-gregations. But creativity and initiatives no longer inform the legal expressions of women religious. Extraordinary documents, though, still emerge from congregational meetings addressing the issues Review Jbr Religio~ts that women religious face at the end of the second millennium. How these documents influence the legally binding texts remains a question for the future. Past, Present, and Future This article has investigated the extraordinary entrance of women into a

Issue 57.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1998. ; f,o r r eltg ous Christian Heritages and Contempora~ Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER1998. VOLUME57. :NUMBER5 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles .in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, bistorical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological _or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU 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 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 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. ©1998 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 per,nission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe TracT Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wktberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 5 contents 454 feature Learning Communities: A Spirituality of Work for the Information Age Michael Skelley proposes that a spirituality which focuses on creating learning communities promises to be especially appropriate for work in the info~'mation age. He integrates theological concepts with ideas from organizational development research. 472 484 491 ignatian spirituality The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises John J. Begley SJ offers a contemporary understanding of Jesus' parables that inserts their use within the Ignatian Exercises and so facilitates a retreatant's entering into the experience of Jesus. St. Ignatius and My Piano Anita J. Baly reflects on how her experience of the Ignatian Exercises gave her insight about playing the piano and praying as complementary processes that call on remarkably similar skills. consecrated life The Experience of God in Consecrated Life during the 20th Century Joseph A. Tetlow SJ sums up the differences between the pre-Vatican II and Vatican II approaches to consecrated life in terms of the postmodern understanding of experience as constructed, derivative, intentional, and dialogic. Review for Religious 513 Gathering the Fragments: Associate Leaders Reflect on Their Experience Roberta Archibald SSJ, Joanne Bauer SBS, and Jean Ustasiewski OSF share the experience of a group of associate leaders who meet regularly in the Philadelphia area. 522 529 536 prayer Unceasing Prayer: Romancing the Divine Jerry D. Keeney develops the image of romancing the Divine for shaping our relationship with God. Prayer Joseph McCloskey SJ draws upon his experience as a pray-er to describe some necessary elements in a prayer life. Renewal of Prayer Mary Terese Donze ASC explores ways in which the word of God inspires and nourishes our prayer life beyond and above every book on prayer. departments 452 Prisms 541 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Obedience: Key Current Legislation 547 Book Reviews September-October 1998 That they may be one, as we are one. prisms Rpe John Paul II wrote the encyclical That They May Be One (Ut Unum Sint) in 1995. This document, dealing with our Christian commitment to ecumenism, took its title from the petition spoken by Jesus in his Last Supper discourse as remembered in the Gospel of St. John. Jesus prayed that all his followers would be blessed with the unity, the oneness which his Abba-Father and he enjoyed: "That all may be one as you, Father, are in me, and I in you; I pray that they may be one in us" On 17:21). A most pervasive tendency among us is to make a divi-sion of any grouping into "them" and "us." It happens in families, between those "siblings or relatives who are "out" and those who are "in." It occurs in the way male and female differences have become "them" and "us" in the gender movements of our day. It is evident in the struggles caused by racial, ethnic, or religious distinctions. Witness our contemporary history of the United States, Bosnia, Sudan, and Rwanda. It is found in the church whether between hierarchy/clergy and laity or between liberal and conservative/traditionalist. Even an official church action like excommunication pronounced by local bishops or by Vatican congregations seems to divide off members into a "them" against an "us." Historically it has been true that religious congregations vied with each other within the church, for example, the competition between branches of 14th-century Franciscans and between 17th-century Dominicans and Jesuits--something in consecrated life, Review for Religious thank the Spirit, which seems less a problem in our time. It is writ large in the struggles in our economic world between east and west and between north and south--the "have's and the have-not's." The "them" and "us" (or, at its personal ultimate, "the world" and "me") mentality seems to be in the very air we breathe. What does this year dedicated in a special way to the Spirit call forth in us? Our desire could well be that the Spirit gift us with various prisms through which to view life and our relation-. ships with others in more accepting ways. We might pray that the Spirit become for us the pervading atmosphere in which we live and move and have our being. We need to stir ourselves to take the first few steps away from "political maps" that divide everything into a "them" and "us." We could decide to take action by our daily examination of conscience~ We begin our examen by thanking God for the small ways in which we have allowed the Spirit to unite ourselves with others in our thinking about them and in our acting towards them. We then examine ourselves and note the occasions when we have succeeded in avoiding a "them" and "us" attitude and the occasions when we have not. We, moved by the Spirit, beg God's forgiveness for the obtuseness of our minds and the hardness of our hearts in choosing and reinforcing the deadly worldview of division in our behaviors of this day. Finally we ask ever more fervently for the outpouring of the Spirit upon us to strengthen us in our mission. Empowered by the Spirit, we dedicate ourselves anew to struggle at eliminating the "them" and "us" mentality in our family, in our community, in our parish life, in our work life, and in whatever other areas it seems to pre-vail. The Spirit is the Love-Reality, the very communio, of God's life. The Spirit, we might ~ay, is the Love-touch of God's life in us, and so the Spirit's presence in our lives means our communion of life with our Trinitarian God. The Spirit's activity is God's cre-ating the communio among all of us here and now. Christ's prayer, then, becomes more insistently our prayer and moves us so to work to bring about a world that is at once more human and more divine--that all may be one. David L. Fleming SJ September-October 1998 feature MICHAEL SKELLEY Learning Communities: A Spirituality of Work for the Information Age Many spiritualities of work have been developed by the world's religious traditions. The differences between these spiritualities come not only-from their various theological presuppositions, but also from the various economic and social realities they address. As the nature of work has changed over the course of human history, so too have the religious interpretations of work. We have entered a new era in the history of work, the information age. The new realities of the workplace pose an immense challenge to workers and to the theologians, pastoral counselors, and ministers who want to help them develop a spirituality of work. How can we articulate, fos-ter, and practice a spirituality of work appropriate to the information age? We may not simply assume that a spir-ituality deduced from past theologies will fit our present situation. If the nature of work truly has changed, then a different kind of spirituality will be required.~Nor can we assume that theologians have the competence by them-selves to develop a new spirituality of work. This task requires ~hat we dialogue with a wide range of scholars who study contemporary work organizations. The potential number of partners and possible agen-das for such a dialogue is immense, and we cannot engage Michael Skelley is a full-time faculty member and the director of the undergraduate program at DePaul University's School for New Learning. His research and publications have focused on spirituality, worship, work, and learning. His address is DePaul University; 243 S. Wabash, #700; Chicago, Illinois 60660. Re~iew for Religious them all. Nor will we survey the historical development of the theology of work; that has been done quite well elsewhere.~ We will integrate some insights from this tradition with a few ideas from scholars of information-age work. The growing consensus in the latter field is that the primary challenges and opportunities of the information-age workplace revolve around learning. In the Christian tradition, coincidentally, learning has long been seen as a path to holiness. This paper, therefore, will explore how a spirituality focused on transforming our workplaces into learn-ing communities might be an apt spirituality of work for the infor-mation age. The Spirituality of Work Throughout the Judeo-Christian tradition, work has been seen as both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, we some-times experience work as an opportunity to display our talents, develop our gifts, contribute to the common good, and exercise our creativity. When work is like that, it is joyful, engaging, and fulfilling. Such work experiences return intrinsic rewards that far outweigh their extrinsic compensations: they satisfy some of our deepest needs and highest aspirations. But, on the other hand, we also experience work as overwhelmed by impossible demands, torn by interpersonal conflicts, dehumanized by trivial proce-dures, and oppressed by unjust practices. Such work causes frus-tration, anger, and despair. Whatever compensation we receive, then, cannot repair the damage done to our spirits and bodies. When our work is like this, it poisons us and our family, friends, and communities. Work brings out the best and the worst in us. We need a spirituality of work precisely because work is so ambivalent. As our spiritual predecessors did in their own cir-cumstances, we search for ways of working which might help us taste more of work's blessings and fewer of its curses. We search, in other words, for ways to transform our ambivalent experiences of work into a consistent experience of God. Our positive expe-riences inspire us to believe in the goodness of work. Can we, then, find ways of working which regularly evoke the best in us and our work? Our negative experiences test our character and challenge us to change. Can-wE find ways of working which will liberate us from the destructive aspects of our work and our work-places? This transformation is the task of a spirituality of work. September- October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities A spirituality of work is a way of working that helps cowork-ers to achieve together our fullest development as human beings. Three points are important about this definition. Thefirst is that a spirituality of work is a way of working, not a way of promot-ing religious ideas and practices. Work can be integrated into spirituality without being interpreted in explicitly religious ways. We need to challenge that ancient legacy of dualist thinking which still conditions most people to assume that secular activities can-not, by definition, be sacred. That is why P~re Marie-Dominique Chenu, a pioneer, in the modern effort to develop theologies of work, said that the question of the relationship between nature and grace is fundamental to the spirituality of work.2 When people see grace and nature as separate and opposed realities, they think that the task of a spirituality of work is to make work explicitly religious. Spirituality then becomes the intrusion of something foreign into the work. Unfortunately, most of what is touted today as spirituality of work suffers from vari-ous degrees of this dualistic thinking. Such spiritualities impose religious ideas, language, and practices on work. The vigorous resistance that many working people have to these intrusions is justified, not simply because these spiritualities discourage humane work, but also because they encourage questionable theology. But when grace and nature are seen as inseparable, the task of a spirituality of work is to enhance something that is already pres-ent in the work. Spirituality then becomes a matter of making explicit what is already implicit. If, as Karl Rahner said;, our world is permeated with the divine self-communication, we can experi-ence God and achieve our fullest human potential even in the most ordinary kinds of work.3 Work becomes spiritual, not by becoming religious, but by becoming more truly work, by being true to the spiritual dimensions already part of its character. This does not diminish the important and proper place of religion; rather, it points to religion's roots in daily life. Such a spiritual-ity of work is concerned with fostering human development in ways which are appropriate to the workplace. It supports the potential we already know work possesses to engage our gifts and contribute to the common good. ~ Second, the definition above implies that a way of working is a form 6f spirituality to the extent that it supports our complete human development. Holiness is a matter of wholeness, and so whatever fosters our holistic human development leads us toward Review for Religious spiritual maturity as well.4 Or, as Irenaeus taught, God is glorified when human beings are fully alive. The major religious and spir-itual traditions of the world have proven successful at furthering the kind of human development we seek. They provide us with a wealth of complementary images of the breadth and depth of our potential as human beings. Obviously, each of these traditions has been guilty at times of fostering narrow-minded notions of virtue that highlight only some aspects of what we are capable of becoming. But, when they are seen together, it is clear that they share some fundamental values, attitudes, and standards that lead people toward fulfilling their human poten-tial and help them understand this effort,s The task of a spirituality of work is to root our ways of working in these basic understandings of holistic human development. This second point does not con-tradict the first one, namely, that the spirituality of work is a way of work-ing and not a way of promoting religious ideas. To say that a spir-ituality of work needs to be rooted in the values of the world's religious traditions is simply to propose that we need to be reflec-tive about the assumptions we bring to our work. The ways we work necessarily presuppose certain ideas, frequently muddled and usually unarticulated, about the values that guide our lives. The question is not whether we want to have a spirituality of work or not; everyone already has some sort of spirituality of work, although we are rarely conscious of this fact. Nor is the point to advocate the values of one particular religious tradition, no matter how emi-nent they may be. To do so would be to presume a consensus in the workplace about religion that is unlikely to exist. The goal is to be reflective about our fundamental values and to ensure that they support not only efficient and effective work, but fully humane work as well. We can do so by rooting our work in the most uni-versal possible expressions of basic human values. The third point we need to notice about the definition above is that a spirituality of work is about achieving our full human development together, in common, not just individually. It is a Work becomes spiritual, not by becoming religious, but by becoming more truly work, by being true to the spiritual dimensions already part of its character. Septentber-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities way of working together with our coworkers for the transforma-tion of our work and our workplaces so that all of us can develop our full human potential. In other words, we need to challenge another kind of dualism, that between our private, individual selves and our public, communal selves. Popular spiritualities today typically identify the spiritual with an individual's interior experience. People seldom connect work with spirituality, for it is associated with the public and exterior dimensions of our lives.6 Popular attempts .to develop a spirituality of work typically assume that their task is to enhance our individual, interior development. They rarely reflect on how the spirituality of work could and should be something that all workers share. This dualistic think-ing does a disservice both to work and to spirituality. It ultimately reinforces the kind of depersonalized, mechanistic approach to work associated with Frederick Taylor, the inadequacies of which are now widely recognized.7 And it misses the critical insight of liberation and feminist theologies that transformation of the social, political, and communal dimensions of our lives is an essential part of spiritual development. Work in the Information Age: Organizational Learning After this review of the task faced by a spirituality Of work, we now need to explore how the information age has changed the nature of the work we do. This will prepare us to think about how a spirituality of work needs to be different today. At the beginning of this century, most workers in the United States were either farmers or domestic servants. By 1950 the com-position of the workforce had completely changed, and most workers were engaged in some form of industrial labor.8 The the-ologies and spiritualities of work that have appeared in the last fifty years focus on the issues of that industrial age, not recognizing how work has changed.9 At the end of the 20th century, it is clear that we have entered an entirely new age in the history of work. We live in a postindustrial society of "knowledge work," the infor-mation age. A significant but steadily shrinking number of work-ers are still employed in the industrial sector, and many others work in service jobs, but the largest portion of the workforce now consists of knowledge workers. By the year 2000, only ten percent of the workforce in the United States and other postindustrial countries will be directly involved in making things.19 Review for Religious While our parents and grandparents usually worked with their hands, moving and making things, most of us work with our heads. The work we do involves knowing, thinking, and learning. Our jobs do not simply require more educational preparation than the work of previous generations did. They require us to do some-thing fundamentally different: to create, interpret, organize, apply, transfer, and manage knowledge. Knowledge work radically changes the nature of a market economy and redefines the rela-tionship between workers and the means of production. This is a new kind of economy and a new kind of work.1~ As Peter Drucker has said, "The social center of gravity has shifted to the knowledge worker. M1 developed countries are becoming postbusiness, knowledge societies. Access to good jobs and career opportunities in developed countries increasingly requires a university diploma. Looked at one way, this is the !ogical result of a long evolution in which we moved from working by the sweat of our brow and by muscle to industrial work and finally to knowledge work. But the development also represents a sharp break with the past."12 Knowledge work requires new abilities to continually learn from and think with one's coworkers. In the past, tasks that required thinking could typically be carried out by individuals using general knowledge. Much of today's knowledge work, in contrast, is too complex for any generalist to accomplish alone. It requires the coordinated efforts of a variety of specialists. People must be able to share their expertise with one another for the work to get done. The primary agent of knowledge work, there-fore, is an organization, not an individual. This fact need not diminish the importance or dignity of the individual worker. It is a consequence of the highly specialized expertise that individ-ual knowledge workers have. Together they are able to create some-thing that none of them could create alone: Knowledge work is a multifaceted task that requires the collaboration of a variety of experts and specialists. It must be done by an organization con-centrated on a particular task. Effective organization, then, is a necessary condition for knowledge work.13 Consequently, as knowledge workers we must work not just for an organization, but at it. That is to say, we must work con-tinually at growing with our colleagues into a community that can do real knowledge work. The organization is not just where we work; it is an essential outcome of our work itself. The task of cre-ating an effective organization where knowledge work is possible Septe~tber- October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities is an inescapable part of each knowledge worker's creative efforts. The nature of knowledge work requires us to deal continually with organizational change, development, and transformation. The academic or professional discipline which concentrates on organizational change is commonly called organization develop-ment. L4.Organization development systematically applies behav-ioral science knowledge to the planned development of organizational strategies, structures, and processes in order to improve an organization's effectiveness.~s Organization develop-ment is practiced in many different ways. Most recent approaches, however, emphasize increasing the organization's capacity to learn.~6 For example, Peter Senge, director of the Center for Organizational Learning at MIT's Sloan School of Management, focuses on creating learning organizations, "organizations where people continually expand their capacity to create the results they truly desire, where new and expansive patterns of thinking are nurtured, where collective aspiration is set free, and where peo-ple are continually learning how to learn together."~7 Organizational change experts focus their efforts on organi-zational learning for many reasons. They hope that learning will simultaneously foster the development of the people in the orga-nization and provide superior economic performance. They see it as an extension of the movement to improve the quality of prod-ucts and services. They see it as a way of managing the increas-ingly rapid pace of social and technological change.~8 But, most basically, they recognize that there cannot be any consistent change for the better in work organizations unless these organi-zations are able to learn. All planned change presumes learning, and so leading change is a matter of facilitating learning. Argyris and Sch6n speak of this "learning imperative": "Now in the mid-1990s, it is conventional wisdom that business firms, governments, nongovernmental organizations, schools, health-care systems, regions, even whole nations and supranational insti-tutions need to adapt to changing environments, draw lessons from past successes and failures, detect and correct the errors of the past, anticipate and respond to impending threats, conduct experiments, engage in continuing innovation, build and realize images of a desirable future. There is a virtual consensus that we are all subject to a 'learning imperative,' and in the academic as well as the practical world, organizational learning has become an idea in good currency.'''9 Review for Religious But it is not proving easy to transform our work organiza-tions into learning communities. Organization-development spe-cialists agree that our work organizations have handicaps that prevent them from learning effectively. Senge thinks that funda-mental difficulties most organizations have in becoming learning communities can be traced in part to traditional Christian spiri-tualityd° He says that our work organizations have been rendered dysfunctional by three problems: reactiveness, fragmentation, and competition. These problems reflect deeper cultural problems that are due in large part to a tradition of dualistic thinking in Western society. From his reading of Thomas Merton, Joseph Campbell, Raine Eisler, and Elaine Pagels, Senge thinks that Christianity insti-tutionalized this dualistic thinking. Obviously, Senge's critique of Christianity would need to be more carefully nuanced and solidly supported, but in its broad outlines it is consistent with the critiques made by lib-eration, feminist, and ecological theologians.21 The problem is not spirituality per se,. but the consequences of dualistic, hierarchical, and patriarchal spiritual-ities. Dorothee Soelle, for example, says: "The tendency to isolate Christian faith from the social order has meant, among other things, that mainstream theology has failed to address work in the context of creation and redemption. It has ignored the worlds of pain created by the structural organization of our work. It has unconsciously or often even cynically obscured our creation as workers in the image of 'the great artist.' Christianity has a long record of complicity in bad, meaningless, or harmful work. This is the result not just of insufficient ethical reflection, but also of the inability to perceive Christ's work in returning the world to its people. Resurrection from sin's power happens in good work. We still wait for good work. Through good work we are revealed, in our creative empowerment, as children of God.''22 Senge is one of many organizational-change experts who see a pressing need for a new, holistic spirituality of information-age work.23 Senge's comments about spirituality and organizational change are particularly striking both because of the wide accep-tance his approach to organizational change has gained and because of the scholarly foundation that supports his work. The "Christianity has a long record of complicity in bad, meaningless, or harmful work." September-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities fact that Senge and his colleagues stress spirituality so strongly, albeit clumsily, indicates that this area is being given more and more serious consideration by professionals in the field of orga-nization development. It is clear, therefore, that the only certainty amidst the turmoil in our workplaces today is that we must learn how to learn. A host of inexorable forces such as the explosion of information, the shrinking of the global marketplace, the reordering of social priorities, and the emergence of new technologies is reshaping every sector of the working world. Both the environment and our work requirements are changing, and changing more and more rapidly. In times of such pervasive change, neither individual workers nor work organizations are likely to be effective unless they can learn easily, quickly, and well. An important part of all knowledge work today is the transformation of our work organi-zations into learning communities. The Spirituality of Learning Learning is not only a critical issue for the information age; it is also a fruitful theme for spirituality. Learning has often been seen by the spiritual and religious traditions of the world as a path to holiness. Jean Leclercq's classic work on medieval monas-ticism, The Love of Learning and the Desire for God, beautifully cap-tures one manifestation of this intimate relationship between learning and spirituality.24 We do not have space here to sample all the rich and varied ways theologians have interpreted the role of learning in spirituality. We will focus instead on just one the-ologian who has had a widespread effect on contemporary Christian theology, Karl Rahner. Epistemological concerns are at the foundation of Rahner's understanding of Christianity, and in that sense his theology is a theology of learning. His insights can readily be translated into a spirituality of learning which deep-ens the way we see the purpose, process, and products of learning. First, Rahner changes the way we see the process of learning by showing us that learning always involves self-transcendence.2s For Rahner, learning is an activity which is necessarily rooted in our nonconceptual awareness of God. We can know finite things only because we can transcend them and experience God. Learning is possible for us because we are embodied spirits (Geist-irn- Welt) capable of self-transcendence. We are able to learn about Reviezv for Religious our material, temporal world precisely because we can reach beyond it and open ourselves to the infinite horizon of absolute mystery. This preapprehension (Vorgriff) of God is the condition for the possibility of any and every act of learning. Every time we learn anything, we experience our transcendental openness to God. When we explore the spirituality of learning, we are not introducing a transcendent element to the learning process, but rather affirming one that is already there. This means that we can never entirely understand, much less hope to control, the process of learning. We generally think of learning as a skill that we can direct and develop, and it is. Most of us expend energy throughout our lifetimes not only learning but learning how to learn. As teachers, parents, colleagues, or friends, we are also regularly called upon to direct the learning of others. We even assume that some people are such proficient learners that they will inevitably be master teachers. But the fact that our ability to learn depends upon our transcendental open-ness to the horizon of absolute mystery means that the learning process transcends our control. All learning requires that we sur-render ourselves to our capacity for self-transcendence. And, if we want to help others learn, we have to support their self-tran-scendence. We will generate very little new learning if we restrict or manipulate the learning process. Ultimately, learning is not a skill to be mastered but a mystery to be loved. Practicing a spir-ituality of learning, then, means creating space for the experience of self-transcendence to happen. Second, Rahner's theology of freedom changes the way we see the products of learning by showing that learning always involves our free self-creation.26 Learning is an expression of the capacity we have as embodied spirits to act freely. The prod-ucts of our free acts are not simply choices between particular goods. Freedom is also a process through which we create our-selves. Whenever we exercise our freedom, we not only make a choice about a particular good; we also make a choice about our-selves. The decisions we make determine who we are as persons in relationship to God and the world. Some of our free acts so totally engage us that they constitute fiandamental choices about who we are. Other acts engage us less completely and serve to confirm or,deny the fundamental selves we have chosen to become. But every exercise of our freedom in some way is an act of self-creation. Septentber-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities Since we exercise our freedom whenever we learn, every act of learning is an act of self-creation. We usually assume that the products of learning are new ways of thinking and acting. But, for Rahner, our own self-creation is also a product of every act of learning. Whenever we learn, we not only learn about something particular; we also help determine who we will become as per-sons. Learning is not just a process through which we adopt new behaviors or ideas; it is a process of creating ourselves. Each choice we make about what, why, or how we will learn contributes in some way to our self-realization. The criteria by which we assess the products .of our learning, therefore, need to include the question of whether we are becoming more fully human, Measured by this criterion, learning which does not support holis-tic human development is fundamentally flawed. People who resist learning risk dehumanizing themselves just as much as those who resist loving. This is not to say that our value as persons is depen-dent upon how bright we are. Learning can no more be reduced to intelligence than love can be reduced to emotion. But learning and loving are critical to our self-realization because both are ways we fulfill our human potential for relationship with the world and the mystery of God. Practicing a spirituality of learning, therefore, means honoring this process of self-creati0n. Third, Rahner's theology of grace changes the way we see the purpose of learning.27 For Rahner, our transcendental orientation to the holy mystery has been universally graced by God's self-communication. Grace is not a gift from God but the gift of God, In our "natural" experience of transcendence, the absolute.mystery of God is present to us as the horizon which we can only approach asymptotically. We believe, however, that God has not remained the distant horizon of human transcendence, but has graciously drawn near to us as free and forgiving love. We never experience our transcendence, therefore, as purely natural and ungraced. The transcendence we actually experience has been radically trans-formed by God's self-gift, which is always present at least as an invitation made to our freedom. Grace is the fulfillment of our deepest human potential as embodied spirits to be filled with the infinite God. Grace makes possible for us the immediate experi-ence of God, which is always mediated by our historicity and mate-riality. But God becomes closer, not less of a mystery, in the experience of grace. Grace is the self-communication of God as the absolute mystery who remains absolute mystery. Review for Religious This theology of grace implies, then, that the ultimate purpose of learning is not to know more, but to be known more.28 When we learn, we do not simply gather new information or master additional skills; rather, we open ourselves to the self-communi-cation of God. The deepest purpose of learning is that it leads us to the point where we surrender to God's knowing of us. Learning is a privileged opportunity to enter more deeply into the abyss of the absolute mystery of God. Learning is at its best not simply when it is rooted in good principles of pedagogy or andragogy, but when it is a form of mystagogy. The process of learning, then, develops our potential to be mystics. Rahner believed that everyone is called to be a mystic.29 Mysticism is not primarily about paranormal experiences, but about attending to hidden experiences of the mystery of God in daily life. It is difficult to be a mystic, not because God is so distant, but because. God is so present. The challenge isto find ways to notice the gracious presence of God in the midst of everything in our lives, This is easier to do in some expe-riences than others. Oddly enough, our experiences of the goodness and beauty of life are not necessarily the best places to look for God. Rahner believed that we perceive the presence of God most clearly in those events in which we struggle with our limitations. Our experiences of lim-itation bring us right to the threshold of the presence of God. To the extent that we can attend to how we transcend the limita-tions we face, we open ourselves to the mystery of God. The pro-cess of learning offers abundant opportunities to struggle with limitations and experience God. Whenever we really attempt to learn, we strain to see beyond the limits of what we currently know. If we have the courage to face the limits of what we know, therefore, we invite God to enter more deeply into our lives. Rahner shows us that the process, products, and purpose of learning have spiritual depths that we normally overlook. Learning is not a neutral process of inquiry that only takes on a spiritual character when we choose to focus it on religious phenomena. Learning is intrinsically spiritual and is one of the most impor-tant ways we have to experience God. It is not surprising that tell- Learning can no more be reduced to intelligence than love can be reduced to emotion. September-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities gious traditions throughout the world have revered learning as a path to holiness. Whatever enhances our capacity to learn fosters our spiritual, development, whether we recognize it as such or not. Disciplines for Creating Learning Communities As the 20th century draws to a close, we are beginning to glimpse how our lives will be different in the information age. But, because this new age of work is only now coming into focus, it is impossible to see yet what all of its spiritual opportunities and challenges will be. Nonetheless, we can be certain that learn-ing will become increasingly important to the work we do. The growing significance of learning makes a new way of integrating spirituality and work possible. The most effective spirituality of work for the information age will be one based on helping us transform our workplaces into learning communities. We defined the spirituality.of work above as a way of work-ing which fosters the transformation of our work and our work-places so that together with our coworkers we may achieve our fullest development as human beings. This means that a spiritu-ality of work should be a way of working, not a way of practicing religi6us activities or enjoying esoteric experiences. It should sup-port our complete human development. And it should foster the transformation of our work communities, not just our growth as individuals. A spirituality of work which is based on creating :learn-ing communities meets these three criteria. First, since it focuses on learning, such a spirituality advocates a way of working which is not explicitly religious, and which is appropriate, even vital, to the information-age workplace. Second, since the learning process engages the fundamental basis of our human identity, our capac-ity for self-transcendence, the process of learning is a particu-larly powerful way of supporting holistic human development. Third, such a spirituality of work draws us beyond caring for our individual growth into building learning communities with one another. But, if it is to help us engage in the difficult process of con-version and growth,, this spirituality of work needs to be incarnated in particular disciplines. The major spiritualities of the West have generally encouraged disciplines such as meditation, prayer, fast-ing, reading, and service as concrete means of achieving spiritual growth. There is no qu~sti6n that such disciplines will continue Review for Religious to have an important role in a fully developed spiritual life. But, since the spirituality of work attempts to engage us in a different and more specific kind of transformation than that of traditional spiritualities, it will need to encourage some additional, new dis-ciplines. The disciplines for a spirituality of work in the infor-mation age will be the disciplines for developing organizational learning. Organizational-learning researchers have over the past fifty years advanced our understanding of what those disciplines are. Peter Senge, for example, has organized them into five sets: per-sonal mastery, shared vision, mental models, team learning, and systems thinking. Each of these disci-plines has to do with helping us develop the skills to learn effectively as individ-uals and groups. There are three distinct levels to these disciplines: practices, principles, and essences. The practices are the specific activities which con-cretely express the discipline. They are the primary focus for those beginning to follow the discipline. The underlying principles are the theoretical bases for the practice of the disciplines. Progressing in the disciplines requires following the practices and understand-ing the principles. The essences are the state of being which comes to be experienced by individuals or groups that have mastered the discipline. At this level Senge's learning disciplines are united by a common sensibility: that we are learners in an intrinsically interdependent world.3° Personal mastery is the discipline of continually clarifying and deepening our personal vision, of focusing our energies, of developing patience, and of seeing reality objectively. It involves learning to expand our personal capacity to create the results we most desire and to create an organizational environment that encourages all its members to develop themselves toward the goals and purposes they choose. The practices of this discipline include various techniques for clarifying our personal vision and for holding a creative tension between the results we desire and our grasp of current reality. Senge sees the discipline of personal mastery as the spiritual foundation for a learning organization. The disciplines for a spirituality of work in the information age will be the disciplines for developing organizational learning. September-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities The discipline of shared vision is the collective version of the discipline of personal mastery. The discipline of shared vision builds a sense of commitment in the groups we work with by developing shared .images of the future we seek to create and the principles and guiding practices by which we hope to get there. The practices of this discipline involve techniques for helping groups both acknowledge their current realities and develop a shared picture of their future that fosters sincere commitment. This discipline assumes that, when there is genuine shared vision, people excel and learn because they want to, not because they are told to. Like the discipline of personal mastery, the discipline of men-tal models is an individually oriented dis.cipline. Senge sees men~ tal models as the deeply ingrained assumptions and generalizations that influence how we understand the world and take action. The discipline of mental models helps us reflect upon, clarify, and improve these internal pictures of the world and see how they shape our actions and decisions. The practice of this discipline also helps us learn how to carry on "learningful" conversations that get us to expose our own thinking effectively and make that thinking open to the influence of others. The discipline of team learning is the collective counterpart of the discipline of mental models. This discipline transforms conversational and collective thinking skills so that a team of coworkers increases its collective intelligence and its ability to take coordinated action. The heart of this discipline is the theory and practice of dialogue. Dialogue challenges team members to suspend assumptions and enter into genuine thinking together. Team learning also involves recognizing the patterns of interac-tion in teams that undermine learning. The most critical learning discipline for Senge is the disci-pline of systems thinking. He sees it as the discipline that inte-grates the other disciplines into a coherent body of theory and practice. Systems thinking is a way of thinking about and a lan-guage for describing ~he forces and interrelationships that shape the behavior of systems. It makes the full patterns of a system clearer and helps us see how to change them effectively. Systems thinking helps us shift from seeing problems as caused by some-one or something external to seeing how our own actions create the problems we experience. Once we discover how we create our reality, we can then change it. Review for Religious When they are used together, the methods of organizational learning represented by these five disciplines have been proven to have great potential for transforming our workplaces into learn-ing communities. They provide us with the concrete theories and strategies we need so that together with our coworkers we can not only learn, but learn how to learn. By virtue of the fact that they expand our capacity to learn, these disciplines also foster our spiritual development. The disciplines of organizational learn-ing help us to learn in new ways and so broaden our opportuni-ties to experience the spiritual depths of learning. The most effective spirituality of work for the information age will focus on transforming our work organizations into learn-ing communities. It will do so by integrating disciplines of orga-nizational learning with insights from the spiritual traditions. This paper has contributed to this integration. New approaches to organizational learning such as the ones we have mentioned here provide the spirituality of work with the concrete disciplines it needs to develop learning communities. At the same time, the insights which our spiritual and religious traditions can provide deepen our understanding of what is at stake in the transforma-tion of work. We will be able to create meaning~l spiritualities of work in this new era only if we continue to engage in this process of integration. Notes ~ William E. May, "Work, Theology of," in The New Dictionary of Catholic Social Thought, ed. Judith A. Duryer (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1994), pp. 991-1002; Karen Ready, "Work," in The Encyclopedia of Religion, ed. Mircea Eliade (New York: Macmillan Publishing Co, 1987), vol. 15, pp. 441-444; Edward C. Sellner, "Work," in The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), pp. 1044-1051; Francis Schiissler Fiorenza, "Religious Beliefs and Pr'axis: Reflections on Catholic Theological Views of Work," in Work and Religion, ed. Gregory Baum (New York: Seabury Press, 1980), pp. 92-102. 2 Marie-Dominique Chenu, "Work," in Sacramentum Mundi: An Encyclopedia of Theology, ed. Karl Rahner (New York: Herder and Herder, 1970), vol. 6. 3 Karl Rahner, "Concerning the Relationship between Nature and Grace," in Theological Investigations (Baltimore: Helicon, 1961), vol. 1, pp. 297-317; "Nature and Grace," in Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1982), vol. 4, pp. 165-188; Foundations of Christian Faith: An Introduction to the Idea of Chr#tianity (New York: Crossroad, 1978). 4Walter Principe, "Toward Defining Spirituality," Studies in Religion Septentber-October 1998 Skelley ¯ Learning Communities 12 (1983): 127-141; Sandra Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 676-697. s Hans Kiing and Karl-Josef Kuschel, A Global Ethic: The Declaration of tbe Parliament of the World's Religions (New York: Continuum, 1993). 6 Joseph Holland. Creative Communion: Toward a Spirituality of Work (New York: Paulist Press, 1989), pp. 24-26. 7 Frederick W. Taylor, The Principles of Scientific Management (New York: Harper and Bros., 1911); Marvin R. Weisbord, Productive Workplaces: Organizing and Managing for Dignity~ Meaning, and Community (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1987), pp. 50-69, 8 Peter Drucker Post-Capitalist Society (New York: HarperBusiness, 1993), p. 5. 9 "John Paul II, On Human Work (Laborem Exercens) (Washington, D.C.: United States Catholic Conference, 1981); Dorothee Soelle with Shirley A. Cloyes, 7~ Work and to Love: A Theology of Creation (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1984); Joe Holland, Creative Communion; Lee Hardy, The Fabric of This World: Inquiries into .Calling, Career Choice, and the Design of Human Work (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1990); Miroslav Volf, Work in the Spirit: Toward a Theology of Work (New York: Oxford University, 1991); John C. Haughey, Converting 9 to Y: A Spirituality of Daily Work (New York, Crossroad, 1989). l0 Drucker, Post-Capitalist Society, p. 5; Charles Handy, The Age of Unreason (Boston: Harvard Business School, 1989), pp. 34-35, 50-51. *~ Drucker, "The Age of Social Transformation," Atlantic Monthly (November 1994): 53-80. ~2 Drucker, The New Realities (New York: Harper, 1989), p. 173. ,3 Drucker, Post-Capitalist Society, p. 49. 14 A large and important segment of experts in this field prefers to call.the discipline "organizational transformation." See John D. Adams, ed., Transforming Work: A Collection of Organizational Transformation Readings (Alexandria: Miles River Press, 1984). ,s Thomas G. Cummings and Christopher G. Worley, Organization Development and Change (Minneapolis: West Publishing, 1993), p. 2. ~6 Chris Argyris and Donald A. Sch6n, Organizational Learning II: Theory, Method, and Practice (Reading: Addison-Wesley Publishing, 1996), ~7 Peter Senge, The Fifth Discipline: The Art and Practice of Learning Organizations (New York: Doubleday, 1990), p. 3. 18 Peter Senge et al., eds., The Fij~h Discipline Fieldbook: Strategies and Tools for Building a Learning Organization (New York: Doubleday, 1994), pp. 9-12. 19Argyris and Sch6n, Organizational II, p. xvii. 20 Senge, "Communities of Commitment: The Heart of Learning Organizations," in The Learning Organization in Action: A Special Report from Organizational Dynamics (New 'York: American Management Association, 1994), pp. 9-15. Review for Religious 21 Holland, Creative Communion, pp. 18-42, and Matthew Fox, The Reinvention of Work: A New Vision of Livelihood for Our Time (HarperSanFrancisco, 1994). 22.Soelle, 7~ Work and to Love, p. 112. 23 Adams, Transforming Work; Peter Hawkins, "The Spiritual Dimension of the Learning Organization," Management Education and Development 22 (1991): 172-187; Peter Block, Stewardship: Choosing Service over Self-Interest (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler, 1993); Alan Briskin, The Stirring of Soul in the Workplace (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 1996); Harrison Owen, Spirit: Transformation and Development in Organizations (Potomac: Abbot, 1987); and Tony Smith, Parzival's Briefcase: Six Practices and a New Philosophy for Healthy Organizational Change (San Francisco: Chronicle Books, 1993). 24 Jean Leclercq, The Love of Learning and the Desire for God: A Study of Monastic Culture (New York: Fordham University Press, 1961). 2s Karl Rahner, Spirit in the World (Montreal: Palm Publishers, 1968), pp. 57-383; Hearer of the Word(New York: Continuum, 1994), pp. 1-54; and, Foundations of Christian Faith, pp. 14-23, 26-35. 26 Karl Rahner, "Theology of Freedom," Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1982), vol. 6, pp. 178-196; Foundations of Christian Faith, pp., 35-39; "The Dignity and Freedom of Man," Theological Investigations (Baltimore: Helicon, 1963), vol. 2, pp. 246-263. 27 Karl Rahner, "Concerning the Relationship between Nature and Grace," pp. 297-317; "Some Implications of the Scholastic Concept of Uncreated Grace," Theological Investigations (Baltimore: Helicon, 1961), vol. 1, pp. 319-346; "Nature and Grace," Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1982), vol. 4, pp. 165-188; Foundations of Christian Faith,. pp. 116-133. 28 Parker J. Palmer, 7b Know as We are Known: Education as a Spiritual Journey (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1993). 29 Karl Rahner, "The Experience of God Today," Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1982), vol. 11, pp. 149-165; "Experience of the Holy Spirit," Theological Investigations (New York: Crossroad, 1983), vol. 18, pp. 189-210; "Christian Living Formerly and Today," Theological Investigations (New York: Seabury, 1977), vol. 7, pp. 3- 24. 30 This and other ideas below are developed in Senge, The Fifth Discipline, and in Senge et al., The Fifth Discipline Fieldbook. Septe~nber-October 1998 gnatian spirituality JOHN J. BEGLEY The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises This article~ proposes a contemporary understanding of Jesus' parables, and it shouts their importance for the dynamic of the Spiritual Exercises. Those familiar with St. Ignatius's book are aware that he does not propose the parables for prayer during the Exercises. Several reasons, however, prompt the exploration of this relationship. First, contemporary scripture studies stress the importance of the parables in the Jesus' teaching, and including them within the Exercises can enrich that experience. Second, we take the New Testament seriously as the starting point of our prayer, and we want that prayer grounded in the best understanding of the New Testament that solid con-temporary scholarship can provide; Third, the parables make up a full third of Jesus' teaching, and so any attempt to "put on the mind that was in Christ Jesus" (Ph 2:5) cannot afford to overlook them. Finally, for retreatants who are troubled by doubt concerning what Jesus really said, the parables deserve our close attention. As a pio-neer of modern parable study has said, "We are standing on a particularly firm historical foundation., part of the bedrock of tradition. We are standing right before Jesus when reading his parables" (Jeremias, p. 5). Later we will discuss the dynamic of the Exercises in some detail. For the moment it will be useful to recall John J. Begley SJ teaches in the Department of Theology and Religious Studies; University of Scranton; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18510. Revie~ for Religious both the purpose of the Exercises and the purpose of the parables. Their similar purposes will readily appear. The purpose of the Exercises is "the conquest of self and the regulation of one's life in such a way that no decision is made under the influence of any inordinate attachment" (§21). Behind the somewhat archaic phras-ing is the understanding that the Exercises have as their purpose to lead "a person to true spiritual freedom, so that we make no choice or decision because we have been influenced by some dis-ordered ,attachment" (Fleming, Spiritual Exercises, §21). Similarly, the. parables' "purpose is to effect a change in the hearer, to lead to decision or action" (Boucher, p. 16-17). We begin with the parables. As Raymond Brown has remarked, "The study of the parables has generated an immense literature and sharp debates" (p. 132). We' will try to make the most of recent scholarship and to avoid controverted issues. Given the literature and the debates, it is difficult to capture the mean-ingof the parables in a single definition. J.R. Donahue in his Gospelin Parable (p. 5) cites approvingly C.H. Dodd's inductively derived definition; it will serve our purpose well. "At its simplest the parable is a metaphor or simile drawn from nature or common life, arresting the hearer by its vividness or strangeness, and leav-ing the ,mind in sufficient doubt about its precise application to tease it into active thought." As metaphor, the familiar and better known--a mustard seed, for example--is compared to the less familiar kingdom of God. The kingdom is compared to and illuminated by something bet-ter known and more readily imagined. In the context of a retreat, the astonishing growth of a tiny mustard seed into a large bush illumines the growth of the retreatant's relationship with God, which is God's work in the retreatant. As a metaphor, it moves people, to greater participation in the more obscure retreat mate-rial being described or explained. Metaphor talks of the familiar so that one can participate in the less familiar (Crossan, p. 16 ). We may note that there are parables in the Hebrew Bible: the trees (Jg 9:7-15), for example, and the ewe lamb (2 K 12:1-4). The rabbis used parables for the normal pedagogical purposes of illustrating and illuminating their teaching. The listeners of Jesus were familiar with the genre. Jesus subordinated the familiar uses of the parable to his primary purpose of proclaiming the king-dom, of sounding the call and challenge to embrace the conditions of living in the kingdom. The parables of Jesus transcend any September-October 1998 Begley ¯ The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises previous use, for he thereby expresses what cannot be expressed by any other means than symbol and metaphor: the kingdom of God. The parables, like other, symbolic expressions, are polyva-lent. No single meaning exhausts their content. Parables cannot be reduced to a proposition. Modern parable study begins with several commonly accepted suppositions. First, the early church supplied the context of the parables as they appear in the narratives of Jesus' ministry, and we must bracket off that context if we wish to hear the parable as Jesus spoke it. For example, the command "Go and do likewise" (Lk 10:37) presently concludes the parable of the Good Samaritan. The common judgment, however, is that it does not belong to the parable as Jesus taught it, and so we exclude it from consid-eration. As we will see, the bracketing changes the parable's mean-ing dramatically. Second, the tradition has at times changed a parable of Jesus into an allegory. For example, in Mark's Gospel the parable of the sower appears both as Jesus taught it (4:3-9) and as the early church preserved it as an allegory (4:13-20). This is not to say that allegory is improper. However, to recover the para-bles as Jesus taught them, we avoid the allegorical interpretation. Other parables, such as that of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10:29-37), have in their transmission become example stories. As the message about Jesus was proclaimed in a non-Jewish culture, its second generation non-Jewish listeners were unfamiliar with the mean-ing of Samaritan, priest, and Levite. The parable became an exam-ple story, lessening the challenge of the original parable. We are not suggesting a single interpretation to the exclu-sion of all others, whether that interpretation is traditional or contemporary. The parable of the prodigal, for example, is fre-quently understood as a parable of God's mercy. As the First Week progresses, a retreatant may suggest to her director, as the result of her own understanding and experience, that she would like to spend some time during the First Week praying over The Prodigal as a parable of God's merciful love. The director must respect the retreatant's freedom and the gift of her prayer. In days to come in the retreat, as discretion suggests, the director can pro-pose the parable once again with a different interpretation drawn from modern parable study. Both interpretations are valid. Retreatants find two contributions of J. Dominic Crossan particularly helpful. First is the manner in which he has located the parables in Jesus' own experience. To a previous observation Review for Religious that parables move people to greater participation in the matter a parable illustrates, it is important to add that "Jesus' parables are radically constitutive of his own distinctive historicity, and all else is located in them" (Crossan, p. 33). They proclaim and they establish the historicity of Jesus' response to the kingdom. There is an intrinsic bond between Jesus' experience and his expression of that experience in parables. Parables are cause and not effect of what Jesus said and did (Crossan, p. 32). Retreatants find it very attractive to pray over the parables and thereby to enter into the experience of Jesus. Second, Crossan's classification of the various parables as expressions of the kingdom's temporality (as advent, as reversal, and as action) is most help-ful. As we'will see, the parables of reversal in particular have an important role to play in the Exercises. One final observation is important. For some few commentators, Crossan among them, the urgency of the para-bles is related to the ever present now of the kingdom. While it would be interesting to consider the range of scholarly opinions on the relation of the kingdom to the end time, it seems better to avoid the confusion which could result. One scholar, Donald Senior, has preserved the urgency of the parables without enter-ing into the controverted question of eschatology. He writes, "The kingdom may be future but the choice is now" (Senior, p. 93). The temporality of the kingdom in terms of advent, reversal, and action appears in two paradigmatic parables which model all three modes of the kingdom. "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which someone found and hid; then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field" (Mr 13:44). "The kingdom of heaven is like a merchant in search of fine pearls; onfinding one pearl of great value, he went and sold all that he had and bought it" (Mr 13:45-46). The parables are simi-lar in structure, as revealed by the three verbs common to both. To unpack but one, in the parable of the treasure hidden in a field, we hear of a man whose nor.mal past-present-future is rudely but happily shattered. The future, which he has presumably planned and projected for himself, is totally invalidated by the finding (advent) of the treasure, which opens up new worlds and There is an intrinsic bond between Jesus' experience and his expression of that experience in parables. September- October 1998 Begley ¯ The Parables of Jesus and the I~natian Exercises unforeseen possibilities. In the force of this advent, he willingly reverses his entire past and acts to sell all that he has. From this advent and this reversal, he obtains the treasure that now dictates his future history in a most concrete way. It gives him a new life that he could not have planned for~himself and a new world in which to live this life (Crossan, p. 34). Advent parables are fewer than parables of reversal, ~which in turn are fewer than those of action. The frequency distribution probably reflects later tradition's needs rather than the frequency with which Jesus spoke them. Later generations experienced the advent of God in the paschal mystery of the death and resurrection of Jesus and so felt less need to preserve the parables of advent. Advent parables stress one or another of three themes: hid-denness and mystery, gift and surprise, discovery and joy. For example, in the sower and mustard-seed parables, there are sharp juxtapositions of two states. In The, Sower, three instances of sow-ing loss are contrasted with three instances of harvest gain. In The Mustard Seed the contrast is between the small seed sown and the ample shade of the fully grown plant. The parables are not concerned with growth but with miracle, "not the organic and biological development but the gift-like nature, the graciousness and surprise of the ordinary, the advent of the bountiful harvest despite the losses of sowing, the large shade despite the small seed. In these ways the kingdom is advent. It is surprise and it is gift" (Crossan, pp. 37-51, emphasis added). To turn now to the First Week of the Spiritual Exercises, con-temporary experience of both directors and retreatants under-scores the advent character of the First Week. It would be impossible to number the retreatants who have summed up their First Week experience by saying, "It is all gift." In whatever man-ner the topics Ignatius proposes for prayer are treated--topics such as sin and punishment in the history of the world and in the self, past and present--the result is not a self broken by sorrow and remorse, but rather a self healed and given new life and freedom. It is an experience of one's own sinfulness, to be sure, but it is much more an experience of God's love embracing me with all of my sinfulness. The darkness of my sinfulness is shattered by the brilliance of God's reconciling, healing love. The modern mind reading the Exercises understands Ignatius's "cry of wonder" (§60) to rise from the felt awareness of God's love as experienced in the wonder of creation, in the wondei" of Review for Religious others who have been sources of life for me, in the wonder of myself as gifted, graced, and loved. The retreatant realizes, in the phrase that has become a familiar experiential reality for those who have made at least the First Week of the Exercises, that she is a "loved sinner." Mthough memories of the past, or feelings of inadequacy, fear, or self-rejection may have gripped the retreatant, now the redemptive love of God has set the exercitant free, desirous of reordering her life more effectively "to the end for which we are created" (§23). At this point the retreatant has experi-enced what in Crossan's language is called advent. To the retreatant have been revealed the hiddenness and the mystery, the gift and surprise, the discovery and joy of the king-dom. One or another of all these parable themes describes the retreatant's experience as she concludes the First Week. What had remained hidden, the mystery of the self as loved by God, has been discovered with joy as the surprising gift of God's love. In the manner of the discovery of a pearl of great price--which cannot be explained by either the skill of the direc-tor, the dispositions of the retreatant, or natural psychological development--the retreatant experiences the sheer joy of one who is loved and affirmed in the depths of the self, not despite who one is but precisely as one is. This is the important meaning of the advent parables of Jesus, and the retreatant can profitably pray over them during the First Week. From the first meditation of the First Week, the retreatant's attention has been focused on the crucified Lord, whose love for-gives and frees. In his presence the retreatant has asked, "What ought I to do for Christ?" (§53). Having experienced advent, the retreatant is now in a position to consider what return she shall make to the Lord whose love has opened for her a new way of life, more abundant than she ever thought possible. The loved sinner desires to be a loving servant. The retreatant is ready for the Second Week, in which parables of reversal and action have an important part to play. These parables have. as their purpose "to effect a change in the hearer, to lead to decision or action" (Boucher, pp. 16-17). More To the retreatant have been revealed the hiddenness and the mystery, the gift and surprise, the discovery and joy of the kingdom. Septentber-October 1998 Begley ¯ The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises dramatically but not less surely, the parables of reversal look to the situation where "the last becomes first and the first becomes last, We have a polar reversal, When the north pole becomes the south pole and the south the north,, a world is reversed and overturned" (Crossan, p. 55) The world that is meant here is the inner world of values, priorities, and motives. It is the inner world of atti-tudes, dispositions, habitual judgments, This reversal is very much what Ignatius proposes to the retreatant at this point in the Exercises. The readiness to turn my familiar world upside down is the necessary predisposition for a good election. Ignatius underscores this in his singularly important consid-eration on the Two Standards. In an introduction to this medita-tion (§135). Ignatius reminds us that the following of Christ in loving service admits of various degrees; the sincere following of the commandments, which has been considered in meditating on Jesus' obedience to his parents, and the state of evangelical per-fection, which was considered in the youthful Jesus remaining behind in the temple. Now the retreatant, while continuing to investigate his life, is to begin to consider and to pray for a knowl-edge of the kind of life to which the Lord summons her. In the Two Standards Ignatius asks the retreatant to imagine Christ mak-ing an address "to all his servants and friends whom he sends on this enterprise." In his address he reverses the strategy of his adversary, "the chief of all the enemy," who stands beneath the first standard. As Ignatius sums up what the retreatant is, to con-sider, he says, "Hence there will be three steps: the first, poverty as opposed to riches; the second, insults or contempt ~as opposed to the honor of this world; the third, humility as opposed to pi'ide (§146, emphasis added). The .colloquy that concludes the Two Standards meditation is to be repeated at the end of each of the five periods of prayer every day until the election has been made. This threefold collo-quy addressed first to Mary, then to her 'Son, and finally to the Father is for the grace to be received under his standard, where the disciple of Christ can expect to bear poverty and humiliations in imitation of him. In a note to the subsequent Meditation on Three Classes of Men, Ignatius advises the retreatant: "It should be noted that when we feel an attachment opposed to actual poverty or a repugnance to it. it will be very helpful in order to :overcome the inordinate attachment, even though corrupt nature rebel against it, to beg our Lord in the Colloquies to choose Review for Religqous us to serve him in actual poverty" (§ 157). As Ignatius makes clear, such a disposition does not come easily: "We should insist that we desire it, beg for it, plead for it, provided of course that it be for the service and praise of the DiVine Goodness" (§157). At the critical time of making a decision that will define the self in relation to the Lord, to others, and to the contingencies of experience, the parables of reversal will serve the retreatant's need very well. It is helpful to recall that the parables represent a call which is absolute (the kingdom cannot be subordinated to any other concern) and that this absolute call is not specific (as the command to love is not specified for each particular circumstance of human life). Indeed, it is the absolute but nonspecific nature of the call of Christ to "follow me" (here and now, or later?) that requires discernment in order to come to a properly ordered deci-sion. The absolute but nonspecific call of the parables is empha-sized in the Exercises as well. The call of Christ in the Meditation on the Kingdom is abso-lute: "Whoever wishes to join me in this enterprise must be will-ing to labor with me, that by following me in suffering he may follow me in glory" (§95.). However, the manner in which one "labors with me" is not specified. Ignatius, in the oblation which concludes the Kingdom, speaks of poverty, humiliatiqns, and humility, but ~does not specify the manner in which "those who wish to give greater proof of their love, and to distinguish them-selves in whatever concerns theservice of:~the eternal King" (§97), will incarnate the proof of their love. The specification is the goal of the retreat and requires the prayer and discernment of the retreatant. Second, the change in the "world" of the retreatant, which the First Week begins and the Second Week develops, is precisely the retreatant's world of values and judgments, of desires and priorities, of hopes and dreams. The parables of reversal chal-lenge this world of the retreatant, who, through the reciprocal process of praying the parables and "reflecting on myself," begins to investigate and ask in what kind or state of life God wishes to make use of me (§135). The retreatant enters into "the mind of Christ" (Ph 2:5) and prays to make his mind her own. The parables, which communi-cate the experience of Jesus and not conclusions or admonitions, assist the retreatant to enter into her own experience of the Kingdom and to draw from that experience her own way of life. To accept the parables and the experience they offer is to take on September-October 1998 Begley ¯ The Parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises a new personal perspective, a new way of interpreting and valu-ing, of deciding and acting. In a word, the retreatant develops a different and more refined set of principles, insights, and critical judgments which can be termed a personal hermeneutic. It is to grow in faith. It is worthwhile to note that the theme of reversal is an essen-tial theme of the teaching of Jesus and of the parables. The beloved Good Samaritan parable (Lk 10:25-37) has tradition-ally been heard as an example of neighborliness. In the wake of Jeremias's study, commentators today suggest that the parable has been reconstructed in the course of transmission. The con-text (Jesus' conversation with a lawyer) and his concluding com-mand ("Go and do likewise," §37) have been provided by the early church and have to be removed from consideration if we are to .come closer to the parable as Jesus spoke it. At a distance both geographical and temporal from the world of Samaritans, priests, and Levites, the story lacked the immediacy that it had for the first listeners of Jesus, and this parable of reversal has been changed by the second-generation of Christians into an example story. Once the parable is allowed to stand on its own, it is no longer simply a story of the neighborliness that fulfills the law, but becomes a parable of reversaL Crc;ssan has brilliantly noted that, if the parable is primar-ily to provide an illustration of neighbor love or an indictment of heartless religious leaders, then help offered by a Jewish layperson would have made the proper point. The shock is that it is the Samaritan who stops. At the remove of centuries, it is easy for us to overlook the hatred that existed between Jews and Samaritans. During the period of the Exile, the Samaritans had intermarried with non-Jews, had opposed the restoration of the Jewish temple, and in the 2nd century B.C. had actually helped the Syrians in their wars against the Jews. The Jewish high priest had burned the Samaritan temple on Mount Gerizim, and the Samaritans had scattered the bones of a corpse in. the Jerusalem temple, thereby defiling it and making it impossible to celebrate Passover. The Samaritans did not accept the whole of the canon-ical Jewish Scriptures. They refused hospitality to Jesus and his disciples because they were on their way to Jerusalem (Lk 9:52- 53). The Jews believed they had insulted Jesus by calling him a Samaritan (Jn 4:7-10), and Jesus himself warned his disciples to avoid the Samaritan territory (Mt 10:5). Review for Religious The shock of the parable, calling for a reversal of attitudes on the part of its hearers, is that the one who helps the Jewish victim and fulfills the law is the enemy and religious apostate. The parable reverses our understanding of who God is and whom God approves. It destroys a narrow, legalistic under-standing of the law and reveals the hatred and divisions which had become institutionalized. The world of the lawyer and his fellow listeners is turned upside down. They are to speak the unspeakable; they are to join the apparent contradictories "good" and "Samaritan." Another parable of reversal that can be useful during the Second Week is that of the Prodigal Son. It is lengthy (Luke 15:11-32) and so well .known that we need not retell it here. In Crossan's interpretation the reversal is located in the presence of the prodigal at the banquet while his dutiful older brother is out-side pouting (Crossan, p. 75). Merely to state the reversal in this way is to grip the imagination of the retreatant. It calls for a rever-sal of mind and heart that must be prayed over until it is interi-orized and can then move the retreatant toward her election/decision with gratitude and enthusiasm. Another approach to the Prodigal Son (Donahue, pp. 151- 157) may be even more helpful to the retreatant. Here the rever-sal is in our understanding, of what constitutes a relationship to God. Both sons define sonship in terms of servile obligation: "Treat me as one of your hired servants," says the younger son; "I have slaved for you," says his older brother. Each in his own way destroys the family. "As the younger son felt that the way~ to restore the severed relationship was to become a servant, the older brother maintained it by acting as a servant. Between the dutiful son and the prodigal is a bond much deeper than is visible on the surface . A relationship . . . worked out in terms of servility leads to destruction. The relationship as redefined by the father leads to joy" (Donahue, p. 157). Some women may find it difficult to pray with the images of "father" and "sons." Sandra Schneiders has captured the power of the parable from a feminist perspective: "Jesus' parable about the father actually constitutes a radical challenge to patriarchy. The divine father who has been understood as the ultimate justification of human patriarchy is revealed as the one who refuses to own us, demand our submission, or punish our rebellion. Rather, God is the one who respects our freedom, mourns our alienation, waits Septentber-October 1998 Begley * The Parables of yesus and the Ignatian Exercises patiently for our return, and accepts our love as pure gift" (cited by Donahue, pp. 161-162). The parable conveys the essential mindset for understanding discipleship and for making the decision that leads to more faith-ful discipleship. Crossan has expressed it perfectly in his discus-sion of the primary issue between Jesus and the Pharisees: "Obedience does not lead to God, God leads one to obedience" (Crossan, p. 80). The Two Standards! Ignatius focuses the retreatant's attention upon the activity of the poor and humble Christ, and so the prayerful consideration of the action parables may be somewhat less necessary than those of advent and reversal. The action parables, though, do portray cru-cial or critical situations that demand prompt and energetic deci-sion, firm and resolute action, that are very much in line with retreat purposes. They summon us to commit ourselves in response to the advent of the kingdom regardless of the reversal they demand, and so they, can prove helpful in the later days of the Second Week. They reflect the situation of the retreatant as she moves towards free self-disposition in response to her experience of the advent of the kingdom. Parables of action portray three different responses to the urgency of action (Crossan, pp. 84-85). As examples of one response (see the parable of the friend at mid-night [Lk 11:58] or the unjust judge [Lk 18:2-5]), we meet persons who accept the inevitability of what must be done and take action. In other parables (for example, the rich fool in Lk 13:16-20), the person fails to recognize the urgency of the situation and so fails to act. A third set of action parables (for example, the bridesmaids, Mt 25:1-13) describes those who respond adequately and those who do not. These parables of Jesus can effectively move the retreatant to overcome her natural hesitancy to choose what is beyond the strength of her own resources: to choose, with faith in the advent of the kingdom within her, what "would be more for his praise and glory" (§180). The explanation of the relationship between the parables of Jesus and the Ignatian Exercises has been long. A director may well question the advisability of proposing such an explanation when Ignatius expects the director to "adhere to the points, and add only.a short or summary explanation., for it is not much knowledge that fills and satisfies the soul, but the intimate under-standing and relish of the truth" (§2). Despite the length of this article's explanation, experience has shown that it is possible to l~eview for Religio~a give retreatants a "summary explanation." Retreatants easily grasp the primary idea of the different parables, are comfortable with the understanding proposed, and experience an unexpected delight in praying the parables of Jesus. A Selection of Parables Advent parables: The leaven, Mt 13:20-21; the sower, Mk 4:3- 8; the mustard seed, Mt 4:30-32; the lost sheep, Mt 18:12-13; the lost coin, Lk 15:8-9. Reversal parables: The Good Samaritan, Lk 10:30-37; The Prodigal Son, Lk 15:11-32; the rich man and Lazarus, Lk 16:19- 31; the Pharisee and the tax collector, Lk 18:9-14; the wedding guest, Lk 14:1-24; the great supper, Mt 22:1-14; the sheep and the goats, Mt 25:31-46. Action parables: the wicked husbandmen, Mk 12:1-,12); the doorkeeper, Mk 13:33-37; the talents, Mt 25:14-3 O; the unmerciful servant, Mt 18:23-38; the unjust steward, Lk 16:1-7; the workers in the vineyard, Mt 20:1-16. Bibliography Boucher, Madeleine I. The Parables. Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1981. Brown, Raymond E. An Introduction to the New Testament. New York: Doubleday, 1997. Crossan, John Dominic. In Parables. New York: Harper and Row, 1970. Donahue, John R. The Gospel in Parable. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1988. Fleming, David L. The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading. St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978. Henog, William R. Parables as Subversive Speech. Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1994. Jeremias, Joachim. Rediscovering the Parables. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1989. Puhl, Louis J. (trans.). The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius. Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1951. Senior, Donald. Jesus: A Gospel Portrait, 2nd ed. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1991. September-October 1998 ANITA J. BALY St. Ignatius and My Piano One of the best things I got out of making the thirty-day Spiritual Exercises was learning I could play the piano. That is not all that I experienced in the long retreat, by any means. And Idid not know I was taking away that particular fruit when the retreat ended. At a distance of two years, however, I sense that that.gift of musical empowerment is closely linked with my spiritual journey. What would St. Ignatius think of my response to his Exercises? Would palm slap forehead in pained frustration at my lack of com-prehension? Would he laugh--or cry? Would he sharply insist that I had trivialized the meaning of his work--and knew it? Would he smile ever so slightly and nod approval? I would not presume to read back into the saint's mind. I am even clueless as to how oth-ers who have completed the Exercises would react. In the silent and solitary conduct of the Exercises, it is impos-sible to know for sure what other retreatants derive. One can make some guesses based on body language and apparent changes, but there is no way to check out assumptions orhlly. At the con-clusion of my retreat, half a dozen of us retreatants sat and tried to share with one another what had occurred for us. What impressed me that evening was how different the perceived fruits seemed to be for each participant! It was also pleasing to see how diverse outcomes seemed to comport with the Exercises. Anita J. Baly JD, MDiv, PhD, is interim pastor of the Lutheran Church of Our Saviour and an adjunct faculty member in theology at Union Theological Seminary in Virginia and the Presbyterian School of Christian Education. Her address is 3001 Libby Terrace; Richmond, Virginia 23223. Review for Religious The Spiritual Exercises are not a map that points in only one direction via a single route. The end desired is surely the same for all Christians: that we grow continually in faithfulness to the Lord's person and work, approaching more and more the fullness of the fruits of the Spirit; that we grow in the capacity to attain, relish, and express the love of God. Or, as St. Paul says so suc-cinctly: the end (telos) the Christian seeks is "eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rm 6:22-23).~ The means to achieving that end, however, clearly differ according to God-given differences in per-sonalities, capacities, and experiences. No means are excluded automatically since "all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose" (Rm 8:28). The Exercises affirm, support, and foster individual wrestling with God's individual graces, to attain the end that is at once universal and also particular. The Exercises, that is, attune to the fact that the Spirit blows how, as, and where it wills. Each exercitant's task is to meet that universal Spirit in the exact par-ticularity of who he or she really is. Were this not to occur, the positive effects of the Exercises in fostering "the salvation of souls and their spiritual profit" would likely be severely limited.2 Theologically this makes sense: incarnation is God's presence and manifestation only in what is really there. God does not meet us inthe past, in the future, or in the way we wish things were. Incarnation means that God meets us precisely here, immediately now. It is, I believe, out of respect for God's ways of working dif-ferendy with different individuals that St. Ignatius urges the direc-tor to be brief in explaining the meditations and contemplations (§2). The saint seems to find it acceptable that exercitants work out much of the matter of the Exercises alone, with God's help. In this way, inevitably, exercitants will surely miss some details and fine points. Ignatius's sense of the compensation for this loss is clear. He says: "It is not in knowing much, but realizing and rel-ishing things interiorly, that contents and satisfies the soul" (§2). My own journey with the Exercises involved the discovery that I could play the piano. As I see it, that was not just a nice My own journey with the Exercises involved the discovery that I could play the piano. September- October 1998 Baly ¯ St. Ignatius and My Piano thing--though it is wonderful! Studying piano has actually become a major support of my continuing spiritual journey. It was a dis-covery I in no way sought, envisioned, or wanted. It came about in response to the circumstances of my long retreat. I made the Exercises at one of the large houses that groups retreatants together with multiple outside directors for one or a few events each year) Our group of retreatants and directors numbered close to seventy people, with an overall director who is a musician. He wanted music provided for the daily liturgies and asked for vol-unteer music leaders. Although there were one or two profes-sional- quality musicians among the group, they, understandably, wanted to retreat from musical production. That left canvassing the rest of us for volunteers, and five or six of us agreed to "do something" according to our capacities. In my case that was to mean simply leading hymns and responses and functioning as a cantor. I could sing and read music, but I played no instruments. As the retreat went on, the strain of producing coordinated music in an atmosphere of total silence showed on some of the original musical volunteers, who quit. That left fewer of us respon-sible for more liturgies. So I was providing music leadership to liturgies every few days with nothing but voice--and boring myself. Besides that, the various celebrants wanted different set-tihgs of liturgical responses. In order to be able to lead those, I had to try to hear them. In the silence, no one could sing them to me beforehand. There was, however, a brief daily period when all retreatants had access to the lone piano. I managed to find the notes to plunk out the melody lines of responses. I knew where the notes were on the keyboard from years of finding singing melodies with a one-finger, hunt-and-peck .method. It was, however, a sort of desperation for variety and for beauty that prompted me to take the next step. I finally made a few attempts to play a melody line under a hymn or two and once even attempted to play something as postcommunion meditation music. Those attempts resulted in poor music that did not enhance the services, in my opinion, and embarrassed me. I suppose I would have quit trying and that would have been the end of it, were it not for the movements of a few people there. One of the directors saw my embarrassment at the poverty of my tries at accompaniment. He managed to honor that pain by helping me try again in a safer way. And, when the retreat ended and we could speak, I learned that a few of the retreatants actually assumed I was Review for Religious a professional music minister! I suppose it was that small amount of affirmation and the serendipitous discovery of pleasure in a new "skill" that prompted me to continue. Once home, I had access to a piano--through the grace of two other friends. For a year I tinkered with that piano on my own, trying to teach myself, sensing in some vague way that for me the piano was a way of continuing to connect with the graces of the retreat. A year after the retreat, I began taking formal lessons. Those have now con-tinued for over a year. The piano is one among those created things that Ignatius would urge using or discarding according to its effect--for the individual pianist--in fostering or detracting from the praise, rev-erence, and service of God (§23). Music can be perverted in var-ious ways. Of itself, though, it does seem to enjoy divine approbation. The Bible in many places, especially in the Psalms, enjoins us to sing to the Lord, to make a joyful noise, to praise our God with timbrel and trumpet, voice, dance--and strings.4 Why would music be so privileged? Maybe God just likes music. That is, the use of music for religious expressions may be linked to something in God's being. Maybe music is special because it is always a common expression, a community endeavor. Even solitary composers or musicians do not invent their instru-ments. Neither do they create the musical notes and their fun-damental relationships--though composers group in "new" ways and patterns the notes and chords they have .been given. The musical givens are built right into~the world. One who discovers them is in dialogue with God the Creator. Because I only play the piano, and do not compose music for it, I dialogue with the Creator about music at one remove. My communion with the composer provides a way for me to make my musical connection with the Directing Source. When I attend faithfully to playing that music as it is written down, I know something too of God's conducting. That faithful attempt to connect with the composer's aural "vision" helps me understand and even "hear" that my studying and playing piano is connected also with my spiritual journey. For me, both praying and piano playing seem more satisfying and closer to hitting the mark when I approach them with a certain kind of discipline. Ignatius illuminates the fact that successful meditation involves the integration of memory, reason, will, and feelings (§50). And the good progress of the Exercises seems to verify that pro- September-October 1998 Baly ¯ St. Ignatius and My Piano found insight. To me, it proves the saint was truly a spiritual genius, As one who .once scored a hundred percent on the feeling compo-nent of the Myers-Briggs Preference Test, my psyche is perpetually on the edge of drowning in emotion. Besides that, my imagination is so strong that I could almost live in it. Now, imagination and feeling are essential for getting through the Exercises. It is difficult to see how an Application of the Senses meditation, for example, could progress without them (§123). The same is true for music. Without feeling, it is lifeless and powerless. Imaginative hearing certainly helps in the process of learning music. Feeling and imagination are good things in moderation. As an extreme "feeler" and "imaginer," however, I cleave to the Ignatian system because of the constant pressure it exerts on me to think and to perceive what is actually there in the world. Overly enthu-siastic thinkers and sensers probably value the Ignatian system for the opposite reason: the pressure it exerts on them to feel and to imagine. One of the supreme marvels of Ignatius's method is the way it teaches, inculcates, presumes, and honors balance. Such balance and integration are often difficult, to keep up in daily life. They are particularly hard to sustain at times of stress when the temptation is to fall back into the ways of reacting that are most automatic and comfortable for us. Our customary responses may be too lopsided to be effective--or holy. It is aware-ness followed by practice, building habits of mind and heart, that can help us to redirect our responses away from the habitual and into more prudent directions. The practice of Ignatian prayer helps with this. In a very similar way, the study of piano also teaches me to strive for balanced, integrated responses. Playing piano, like praying in the lgnatian.mode, requires using memory to aid the intellect, engaging the will in the endeavor, and aligning feelings with the will. My teacher, thus, emphasizes for me the importance of learning chord relationships and learning and remembering proper fingering. In this way my memory assists my reasoning about how to play a new piece of music. And only when my will controls my~ feelings can I keep my enthusiasm from ruining the dynamics and phrasing of com-positions. For me it is truly useful discipline to have to count continuously, thereby exercising a form of reason. My teacher also patiently reminds me that I must play the piece as it is writ-ten-- not as I may prefer or wish it to be, nor as I would find it easier to play. Those reminders are echoes of incarnation! When Review for Religious I lose the balance and proper relationship of memory, reason, will, and feelings, the pieces do not sound right. They cease to please the ear. In a profound sense they are no longer "good." In turn, that reminds me that, when I lose the balance in my spiri-tual life, it too is swerving from the best direction. One particular place where Ignatius urges balance and indif-ference is in making an election (§179). The single criterion of election is that a given alternative seems to lead more to the glory and praise of God and to the salvation of one's soul. The ideal choice, thus, is very pure and very disciplined. In a similar way, the best choice in playing music will be to put aside any personal inclinations or biases or even technical insufficiencies. The goal is to play the piece as near as possible to the composer's intention. The search for that intention can be like discerning the will of God. Sometimes neither the one nor the other is apparent on the surface. It is in both cases openness, dialogue, respect, fidelity, and persistence that create the atmosphere in which disclosure becomes more likely. Within all the balance and indifference in prayerful elections, however, it does seem that reason takes primacy (§ 182). Ignatius seems almost to anticipate the Kantian ethical principle about acting in ways that would please you if they became universal law. The saint counsels us to imagine advising an unknown person whose sanctification we desire, within the context of our own sense of what best conduces to God's glory. Having determined that advice, we are ourselves to follow it (§185). So too in music, where it is hard to imagine advising anyone to play a work other than as it is written. Once reason has helped us to know the goal for living well or for playing music well, the honorable course is to set about engaging the other parts of the personality to col-laborate in moving to this end, and in practicing and honing needed skills for doing so. Relaxation and trust enhance both instrumental playing and prayer. At a recent lesson, my piano teacher watched and heard me struggle through a work white-knuckled, tight-shouldered, gri-macing, and gritting my teeth. She then inquired, sweedy, whether I found it easier to play tense or relaxed. That reminded me of the priest at my last directed retreat who kept urging me to pray in Imaginative hearing certainly helps in the process of learning music. Septentber-October 1998 Baly ¯ St. Ignatius and My Piano peace and serenity--until I finally did. Tension and trying to retain control do not facilitate progress in either prayer or piano. Humility certainly helps in both spheres. Ignatius specifically counsels cultivating the attitude of humility at those times we contemplate our sins. He says that we are then to "lessen" our-selves via various imaginative comparisons (§58). The whole envi-ronment of the Exercises, moreover, induces humility. Much in the system cooperates to encourage the exercitant to esteem God's control and another's direction over what comes from the self alone. For me the Exercises went best at those times when I was most teachable and directable. The same is true of piano study: I play better by attuning to what is there musically and to the teacher. Playing the piano and praying are complementary processes that call on remarkably similar skills. As I hone technique in one area, I also seem to position myself for advancement in the other activity. A kind of cross-leavening seems to occur. As I attend con-sciously to what happens, it seems as though piano learnings tend to foster px:ayer learnings, not vice versa. I think that is because progress in piano happens in an external realm where any who wish may hear, measure, compare, iudge, criticize, and so forth. The no-less-real results of prayer exist in' an internal sphere fully accessible neither to others nor even to myself. Whatever helps someone to understand more of what occurs in personal prayer and to be able to communicate that has to be a boon to progress in prayer. Piano does those things for me. Piano also intimates to me and gives me the hope that King Hezekiah expressed: "The Lord will save me, and we will sing to my stringed instruments all the days of our lives, at the house of the Lord" (Is 38:20). Notes 1 Scriptural citations are from the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible. 2 The quoted words are from the Papal Approbation of St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises in 1548, as given in David L. Fleming SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978), p. xxiii. Other citations (§) are standard paragraph numberings used in this and other modern trans-lations of the Exercises. 3 Jesuit Retreat House, Los Altos, California. 4 Psalms 33, 68, 81, 92,144, 149, and 150 all direct the use of musi-cal instruments in praising God. Review for Religious JOSEPH A. TETLOW The Experience of God in Consecrated Life during the 20th Century In this article I try to describe the experience of God, not to prescribe for it. I begin, first, with the meanings of the terms spirituality and religion and the content of the term experi-ence. Second, I characterize modern times just before Vatican Council II under three headings: aggressive realism, methodi-cal universalism, and rugged individualism. I do this because modernity has marked consecrated life deeply and in some mea-sure still marks it, and because, when conservatives talk about the past, this is the past they mean. Third, about the council, I note only that the reform of church structures and the renewal of consecrated life brought out deep problems with authority and with our concept of the self. Finally, coming to today, I urge that we can appreciate consecrated life well in terms of the postmodern understanding of experience as constructed, derivative, intentional, and dialogic. I hope these somewhat scattered theoretical points will deepen our reflection on what the experience of God has been in consecrated life during the cen-tury that is now ending. Spirituality. For us spirituality means the experience of God in Christ. For others it means other things. The Communist government of China, for instance, has begun Joseph A. Tetlow SJ makes available here a talk that he pre-sented in Rome at a workshop attended by members of the union of major superiors of men religious; it retains something of that provenance. No newcomer to these pages, he is director of the Secretariat for Ignatian Spirituality; C.P. 6139; 00195 Roma Prati; Italy. consecrated life September-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience o[ God in Consecrated Life promoting what it calls a "spiritual civilization." Alcoholics Anonymous acknowledges only a "Higher Power" but has a spir-ituality. So has the New Age pseudo-philosophy. In this article the word spirituality is used in none of those vague senses. Here it means the experience of God in Christ, always incarnated in a tradition of prayer and interior discipline.~ A spiritual life, consequently,is the ongoing, cherished, fos-tered experience of God in Christ in one of the great consecrated-life traditions.2 Shifting "from the former stress on the rational to the experiential," serious theologians now recount "the in-break-ing God of personal experience.''3 Karl Rahner, certainly a spec-ulative theologian, was deeply stirred by Ignatius's conviction "that he had in fact experienced God directly and that others may do so as well.''4 Rahner wrote many prayers like this one.- "Thanks to your mercy, O infinite God, I know somethingabout you not only through concepts and words, but through experience . Yes, really you yourself, not just a concept of you, not just the name which we ourselves have given you.''5 John of the Cross experienced God, not an idea or a poem, and so did Don Bosco, St. Benedict, the author of the Cloud. Each experienced God in the specific way God chose~ All those who follow each of them adopt the perspectives, perceptions, and values of their masters, desiring and determined to know God as their tradition knows God. This is what we mean by spirituality. It differs from religion. Religion. Religion is the experience of creed, code, cultus, and culture and, in and through these creatures, the experience of God. Hinduism; Buddhism, Islam, even animism yield the expe-rience of God in the experience of creed, code, cultus, and cul-ture. 6 Islam, for instance, holds faith in Allah and in the prophet Mohammed, follows a moralistic code, practices cultus six times a day and a month each year, and has spread into a vast poly-morphous culture. Each Muslim experiences these creatures directly and, in them, God. The "ordinary Christian" who spent three hours worshiping in St. Peter's Square on Palm Sunday felt the presence of God in the liturgy. True, many ordinary Christians may have momentary "mystical experiences"; Andrew Greeley reported in one survey that perhaps eight in ten American Catholics have had such experiences, and we have no reason to think Americans more mystical than any other people. But those "mystical experiences" come as a surprise, for religious people Review for Religious experience God indirectly, through the created creed, code, cul-tus, and culture in their everyday lives. Religious leaders need to note two points connected with this: first, about the apostolate. The people we serve, the "millions in the middle," in Cardinal Joseph Bernardin's phrase, experience God in and through their religion. When the powerful or the super-spiritual despise these people's religion, the people suffer; for their special experience of God seems despised and degraded. Perhaps the church harmed them inadver-tently when it swiftly and almost wordlessly dismantled the liturgi-cal use of Latin and quotidian laws about fasting and communion on the tongue, Yet for centuries the church had called the full, whole-hearted living of religion, just reli-gion, "spirituality." Only a few centuries ago did theologians begin using the word spirituality for the life lived by an active, dedicated, religious elite, and only in the last two centuries did theologians begin separating the experience we call spirituality from the experience we call religion. We who find ourselves in this "elite" run the risk of so raising up spirituality as to depreciate religion. This is wrongheaded. The second thing superiors might note here concerns our own congregational lives. Are there not men in every congrega-tion who live the charism in wholehearted ways and yet cannot say they know God? We all know men who have pictures of the Holy Father, of saints and holy places, all over their rooms and offices. Perhaps they are living religion--creed, code, cultus, and cul-ture- as religion is embodied in a congregation's way of life, with all its pious practices. (Somebne told about a man who was watch-ing television and reading his breviary during the commercial breaks. He explained that Jesus had instructed us to "watch and pray.") Above all, perhaps we should consider whether the strongly conservative among us may live their interior lives in this way of religion. How do they experience God? Experience. Our topic is experience. As everyone does today, I have been talking about experience as though we all mean the same thing. But we do not. Some say experience includes just what Only in the last two centuries did theologians begin separating the experience we call spirituality from the experience we call religion. September-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience of God in Consecrated Life happens; some, that experience includes only what I am conscious of happening; some tinsist that human experience always includes language. Every one of. us, also, varies what he includes in the term. What does our topic mean, "The experience of God in con-secrated life"? Obviously, we cannot work out a perfect descrip-tion of experience here and now. Also obviously, we are probably not going to talk about it the way "scientific" philosophers talk about it. We are going to talk about experience, most likely, as Vita consecrata does.7 Perhaps, though, we need to notice, on a slightly theoretica,1 plane, that today people regularly talk about experience by using seven categories. A sort of common philosophy holds that each and every experience unfolds in seven dialogically inter-related elements: context, perspective, perception, value, desire, decision, and habit. We tend to think that any and every experi-ence is adequately described when each of these elements is accounted fo~, both in itself and in its relationship with each of the other elements. So, biographers get the concrete details of their subjects' time and place and recount how their context shaped their perspectives, how their values shaped their perceptions, and so on. Scripture scholars try to recapture the context of Jesus' life and the perspectives, perceptions, and values with which his context would have imbued him. When we look at a man's expe-rience to see whether he has the capacity to govern, we weigh his decisions and hal6its, how he perceives, what he values. Things like these constitute our view of his experience. So, at least for now, let that stand for what experience is. The description is hardly .satisfactory, so why did I raise the question? For two reasons. Fil:st, we whose main task is listening to .others must keep in mind that there is no such thing as a naive appeal to experience. The man who says, "Well, my experience tells me such-and-such" has not ended discussion, but just begun it. As philosophical theologiaJ~ John Smith argues, every appeal "carries with it a theory of experience, some principle indicating what expe-rience is and how much it is supposed to contain.''8 Conflicts between superiors and consecrated men, between individuals and their communities, commonly grow from different appreciations of experience. The second reason we need to be aware of the con-tent of experience is that the teaching church is changing its approach to experience, but is no more consistent than any of us in what content it puts into the word. Review for Religious Now let me turn to the three topics I mean to open: the pre-conciliar and modern, the council, and the postconciliar or post-modern. Preconciliar and Modern Times I begin with a story. In 1947 a young man of sixteen boarded a train on his way to a novitiate. Answering the questions of the novice-master, his back straight and shoulders squared, he explained his call. He felt drawn to a military life (his father had sent him to a military school). But he thumped the oak arm of his chair--absolutely, God wanted him to be a religious and a priest. Fifty years later, he remains both. The year 1947 came in the evening of modern times. What is modernity? How had it affected our experience of God in Christ? Intellectual historians generally concur on certain qualifies. Albert Borgmann, for instance, identifies as marks of modernity an aggressive realism (we experiment to know and we intend to con-trol life and nature with our knowledge); methodical universalism (any empirically established truth is true in every realm and in any culture); and rugged individualism (the person comes to be over against the community). Aggressive Realism. In the 1950s we perceived the modern uni-verse, unlike the medieval Christian cosmos, as impersonal and governed by regular laws that had to be understood mathemati-cally. We felt free to tear out forests, dig up mountains, and blow a hole in the earth's atmosphere. As we grew absorbed in this aggressive realism, in Richard Tarnas's words, "God was now dis-tantly removed from the physical universe, as creator and archi-tect, and was now less a God of love, miracle, redemption, or historical intervention than a supreme intelligence and first cause.''9 1 have the clearest recollection from the early 1950s of being instructed by a spiritual book written by a Frenchman and translated by a North American to turn at the end of a period of prayer and with whole heart and great fervor pray to "my First Cause." 10 This kind of realism seriously trammeled our experience of God, in part because that realism was magnified by a centuries-long failure in the church to develop anything like an adequate theology of creation,~ as John Courtney Murray argued in his book, The Problem of God. In modern times we spoke about God's Septonber-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience of God in Consecrated Life providence or God's will, both exercised, in some measure, in dis-tans. But we had lost the strong sense of God continually, con-stantly creating us and personally calling us.~2 Most religious are still surprised and delighted to hear that we are in an intimate relationship with God the ongoing Creator. In truth, our God had some of the aspects of the rationalists' Great Watchmaker who created the earth and spun it off to do its own work. Notice that the experience of God in consecrated life in the West has been countercultural and is an important gift to the Western church, as Vita consecrata points OUt.13 It also has to be the source of a renewed theology of creation for the church (one thinks of Teilhard de Chardin). Rugged Individualism. Just a century ago the West gave scien-tific sanction to individualism in social Darwinism's "survival of the fittest." So the powerful grabbed oil, railroad lands, monopolies in finance, and so on; the less than powerful were taught to blame themselves. Between Vatican Councils I and II, between the first automobile and the first manned space vehicle, the socioeconomic program of the West, in Roberto Mangabeira Unger's words, was "to turn all society into a world of patrons and clients.''~4 Furthermore, this was certainly the methodical program of the Communist elites (only six percent of China's population) and arguably the established program of the rest of the world. Princes and rich landowners lavished patronage; their clients begged help. Colonial powers favored a native elite (that now rules seventy-five new nations); the natives depended on them. Bosses ruled "their" workers; bishops had "their" priests; religious superiors had "their" subjects. All these were "clients," including the reli-gious, who leaned on (the Indo-European root of "client" is klei, to incline to or lean on). their superiors. This patron/client relationship flourished in the church, which Catholics were taught to conceive of as a "perfect" society, that.is, a visible society fully equipped for its purposes with autonomous rights and resources, with powers of jurisdiction, legislation, and administration, and, in words of Pius XlI in Mystici Corporis, a society lifted "above the whole natural order [by] the Spirit of the Redeemer, who., penetrates every part of the church's being and is active within it.''~s We religious exhorted one another to dependence on our superiors. I do not speak critically here. We must empathize with this earlier perspective on authority. Authority was felt to be, in itself, profoundly benevolent to the Review for Religious subject, creative, and ultimately successful in making people what God wished them to be, Modern people simply did what they were told by superiors, and if some of them acted immorally-- remember Eichmann--many others flourished under good lead-ership. And tens of thousands of consecrated men lived holy and productive lives by doing what they were told. It was in this con-text that a young man (just like the one who took that train in 1947), when told .by his master of novices to tie his hands to his bedstead to avoid nocturnal pollution, at first obeyed confidently. I say "at first," for there was a shadow side to this embrace of authority. As Donald Gelpi has written, "submission of one's own will to a superior [was] subtly trans-formed from a means into an end in itself." 16 The religious subjects had an. easy way to personal holiness, and, superiors could ask them to be instruments of our congregations, instruments, we confidently believed, in God's hands. Very commonly it is this instrumentalism that conservatives yearn to recapture. One man said as much to me as he was planning a par-ticularly egregious action against some liberal Christians: "I just want to be a hammer in God's hands." What did he think he is? Who had responsibility for his harmful activities? Authority, and its instruments, were experienced as univer-sally valid until the very late stages of modernism. This century's experiences--the Holocaust, the Soviet Union's Gulag, Idi Amin, My Lai, terrorism, governmental lying, the totalitarian habit of "disappearing" people---have changed our appreciation of author-ity. In earlier modernity it was perceived as benevolent; at moder-nity's end, it has come to be perceived as malevolent or at best deeply ambiguous. Even consecrated men may nowadays won-der, at a letter from superiors, What do they want now? At the end of modernity, as Hannah Arendt argued, we have to study what authority once was to come to any realistic appreciation of it. This situation is, in part, the fruit of rugged individualism. Methodical Universalism. If the secular world gladly embraced empiricism as a universal method, the church embraced scholas- We had lost the strong sense of God continually, constantly creating us and persona, lly calling us. Septentber-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience of God in Consecrated Life ticism as gladly. Before Vatican II, the teaching church was insist-ing on a unique philosopbia perennis, a single intellectual approach to meaning in human life. This insistence expressed a methodical universalism; it belonged more to modernity than to revelation. Scientists rigidly adhered to what they considered induction; Catholics rigidly adhered to deduction. One reviewer in 1949 called a masterwork by Garrigou-Lagrange "an outstanding exam-ple of the ability of a master scientist to draw a whole system of practical conclusions from a single principle.''17 The book was The Three Ages of the Interior Life, and the reviewer resonated with the book's methodical universalism.18 Integral to that methodical universalism was the firm con-viction that nature had an intrinsic order, put there by God and functioning flawlessly. Unaided reason could perceive this order with certitude (one of my philosophy professors liked to cite the Letter to the Romans). This modern trust in reason unrelated to God'.s "ongoing revelation transmuted the church's philosophical commitment to a "natural law." The trust in reason and law affected consecrated life, too: "Keep the rule, and the rule will keep you." As the 20th century progressed, we learned that nature ordered itself by evolution--having been so created by God at the time of the Big Bang. Catholics were quicker than most to accept that scientific theory as fact. Then we learned also that each person evolves, comes to be, grows, from some interior prin-ciple. The combination, grew to an insistence on "authenticity." Hence, as one author summarized the development, "in contrast with the medieval Christian worldview, modern man's indepen-dence- intellectual, psychological, spiritual--was radically affirmed, with increasing depreciation of any religious belief or institutional structure that would inhibit man's natural right and potential for existential autonomy and individual self-expres-sion." 19 He has caught most of the shibboleths of the 1960s, the pseudo-ideas, the decaying core convictions of modernity: inde-pendence, radical, institutional, structures, natural right, auton-omy, self-expression. These are the "plastic words" that many of us used when pushing far in the conciliar reforms.2° Vatican II and the Return to Roots Here is another story. Around 1967 a man from a religious com-munity made a workshop-retreat. He had been busy running a college Review for Religious and raising funds; he had never made a directed retreat or listened to one of the well'known spiritual gums. About a month a#er his expe-rience, he told another man in his community that the retreat had been powerful. He had never known, really known, that God accepts him, that God loves him as he is. He wept as he recounted the experience. In complex and varying ways, modernity had shaped the con-secrated life before Vatican II. Now we were called by the great decree Petfectae caritatis to return to our roots, to leave nature alone for a w, hile and go back to history. We needed to re-create our communities, an immensely conse-quential effort, which meant recovering ¯ our history. Some of us found that our communities were hardly living our full histories. I was astonished, for instance, to find out that St. Ignatius Loyola did not found the Society of Jesus all alone, but led a committee of friends in the Lord. to found the Company. (I have never been sure what that committee tells us about Jesuits.) One of the great consequences was a deep shift in leadership style from hierar-chical power to discerning authority, a genuinely splendid achieve-ment. Superiors decided that they were called, in Ann Ida Gannon's bold phrase, "for the service of [their] fellow religious.''~ They learned to be servant-leaders, adopting a leadership style that rejects power and governs by authority. So we began to reha-bilitate authority, and to reconnect the modern individualist to the community. Authority, which humankind always needs, is the ability so to arrange a lifeworld that those served by authority desire in great freedom to follow its decisions. Fully exercised, leadership by authority elicits and empowers the authority of every individual. For in its roots--note the Latin nounauct0r (originator, doer, author) and verb augere (increase)~authority names a human per-son's self-actualization and growth, which cannot happen to a person except in connection with a community. We need to pur-sue a difficult notion here: the concept of the self. Under the weight of modern individualism, we came to think of the self as isolated, estranged--all those anguishes of existentialism. We came to appreciate the self as having no extension, independent Fully exercised, leadership by authority elicits and empowers the authority of every individual. Septentber-October 1998 Tetlow ¯ The Experience of God in Consecrated Life not only of our bodies but even of our experiences. We have all heard people say that they can "use their experience," as though it were a computer program. We have heard that a woman "has a right over her own body" as though it were something like a suit-case. Charles Taylor summarized all this as "the punctiliar self.''22 The self has become like a little point floating through our life-world, our own life history, our experiences, convictions, body parts. For our topic, the important thing to notice is that, when the conciliar renewal arrived, we were all thinking of the self detached from our own experience and over against the commu-nity. When one of us said "I personally think." he really meant "I individually think"--that is, over against the rest of society. For person had come to mean individual and had been cut off from society. Only during postmodernity, with its search for commu-nity, did we recover the truth that no human person can exist apart from the human community. We are not angels. We might note one final rather abstruse but intensely conse-quential point. The modern concept of self, split off in Catholic life from any adequate theology of ongoing creation, let us conceive of our autonomy as almost divine. That concept entailed both the "denial of death" that philosophers have noted in some cultures and also an attempt at repudiating creaturehood. Thus, many could retract their permanent commitments and their priestly vows: "It was not my true self." At the beginning of this century, theolo-gians wrote of a triad: God, man, and creatures. Listen to the incompleteness of the modernist expression in Canon Four of the Roman Missal: "You have created man and set him over all crea-tures." Not "over all other creatures"; just "over all creatures." After the council we in consecrated life once again began to hear all other creatures "speak to us in 'their own right," and it is not an accident that consecrated men and women have been leading the so-called "ecological spirituality" movement.23 Postmodernism and Expe~ience A thirdstory. In 1987 more thanfifty men from oneprovince made a retreat together. They listened to briefpresentations during the day and prayed in silence. In the evenings they sat around and talked about themselves: How did I get my vocation, what was the hardest obedience I ever faced, where has the cross been in my life? Each said what he wished to say, the young and the 6ld; no one answered another; no one Review for Religious was forced to speak. Ten years later the men still remember that expe-rience. It drew them into communion. They even found out that they liked one another. Describing postmodernity is like describing where you are in a vast desert. There are markers, of course; but they are very hard to discern. I particularly like a triad developed by philosopher Albert Borgmann, whom I have already cited: "For each of the modern principles a counter possibility is emerging: information processing in place of aggressive realism, flexible specialization instead of methodical universalism, and informed cooperation rather than rugged individualism.''24 This is a description of global culture, but perhaps you recognize these emerging experiences: Information processing: Once we worked by the rule; now we read the signs of the times and discern. Flexible specialization: Once we legislated apostolic work; now we inculturate, make the option for the poor, and try to keep faithful to our charism. Informed cooperation: Once our ideal of obedience was the blind man being led; now we dialogue, discern, and even as we are given a mandate we remember that we are, each of us, free men. This is conse-crated life in a postmodern world. We are not likely to comprehend the experience in any seri-ous way unless we accept that postmodernity sees experience as a construct of many elements. This construct is intentional (of and by and for and with other persons and things); derivative (from other experiences and other things); and dialogic (moving in and out, back and forth, between old self and new self). Let me take each of these marks of experience and suggest a thought or two about consecrated life. Constructed. Experience is constructed. It incorporates a past and moves into a future; it combines social, cultural, intellectual, emotive, aesthetic; it entails sensations, memories, desires, and perceptions. Thus, even Descartes's insight Cogito ergo sum--one of the deepest roots of modern individualism--was in a language (Latin) that many past and present spoke. He had the insight with a brain incorporating DNA from two other persons. He felt emo-tions and conviction. Every experience is thus constructed, so that George Schner can correctly claim, "There is a sense in which no experience is strictly 'mine.'''25 The experience of living a consecrated life is also, quite obvi-ously, a construct. Each of us had a unique experience when tak-ing vows, yet we used a formul~ used by thousands before us. And September-October 1998 Tetlow * The Experience of God in Consecrated Life we promised to live these vows accordi

Issue 56.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1997. ; Living NUMBER 6 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection ~n the lived experiehce of all who find that the church's rich" he~'m_ges .of spirituality ~upport tbei~ personal and apostolic Christian li6es. . The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, or inspirationM, written front a~ tbeoflogical or spiritual or s6metimes canonical poin~ t of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis Universit3, by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EI)U Manuscripts, book~ 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 McDonot, gh OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 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 o,1 subscription rates. ¢1997 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 nse, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institUtional promotion, or [br the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages .and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1997 # VOLUME56 ¯ NUMBER6 contents virtues Solidarity--More than a Polish Thing Marie Vianney Bilgrien SSND sheds light on the importance of solidarity as a virtue, especially in the preparation of the Synod for America. The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias John L. Barber draws a picture of the disciple Ananias in which the various attributes of his courage guide us in our Christian following. working together 578 587 A Quilt, a Council, and a Church Margaret Mary Knittel RSM proposes that the processes of quiltmaking and the processes of organizations call for an ever active interdependence among equal people before a loving God. Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? Joel Giallanza CSC makes some practical observations about the choices we make for a healthy community life and describes various causes of dysfunction. 599 The Elderly among Us Eagan Hunter CSC reflects upon the importance of the elderly ~x~ among us for the vital continuity of our religious life. Revie~v for Religious 605 614 being missioned Interreligious Dialogue and the Jesuit Mission Thomas Michel SJ explains the beneficial implications of interreligious dialogue and describes the personal transformation that results. Misery Meets Mystery in Montenegro: A Survival Guide for North American Religious Annette M. Pelletier IHM pictures the "reason" for hope in the flourishing of consecrated life in North America by describing her experience of the people of the Peruvian pueblo Montenegro. perspectives 623 Itinerancy, Stability, and the Freedom of No-Where Brian J. Pierce oP examines the ascetic freedom common to apostolic itinerancy and monastic stability, the freedom both to go wherever God's Spirit moves us and to stay put wherever we have come to see that God dwells. 636 642 Grass-Roots Religious Jeanne McNulty OCV presents reflections on some new ways of living consecrated life. Jesus, Frogs, and Dancing Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ tells of the rich experience of an ever developing relationship with Jesus that deepens our love of God and love of neighbor. departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Habit and Habitus: Current Legislation Book Reviews Indexes to Volume 56 November-December 1997 prisms Jesus Christ is the beginning and the end, the alpha and the omega, Lord of the new universe, the great hidden key to human history and the part we play in it. --Paul V-I, homily in Manila, 29 November 1970 ~esus presents us Christians with two inestimable gifts: familial intimacy with God and a share in divine vision. St. Paul speaks of God giving us wisdom to understand the mystery, "the plan he was pleased to decree in Christ, to be carried out in the fullness of time: namely, to bring all things in the heavens and on earth into one under Christ's headship" (Ep 1:9-10). Overwhelmed with the vastness of the vision, we rightly focus on the gift of intimacy. But, as we come to the end of each liturgical year, we receive reminders about the twinned vision which our relationship with Jesus entails. The many Gospel incidents of his curing blindness imply our need for Jesus to give us ever greater sight along with a deepening love relationship. One of the Gospel titles which Jesus elicits from us throughout our lives is "Teacher." As we continue to reflect on the Scriptures and receive graced insight into relationships and situations of our daily life, we become aware that Jesus remains our teacher as he was for the people during the time of his public ministry. A teacher provides information, presents new ways of seeing things, and makes connections with previous experiences, allow-ing further insights to develop. Through the gift of the Spirit, Jesus. continues giving all the richness of divine perspective. The Spirit's action gives hope to the church, whose vision is always in process of renewal. Through the focus of scripture readings during this changeover from Ordinary Time to Advent, the church faces each of us with our personal responsibility to examine whether we continue to deepen our relationship with Jesus and Review for Religious whether we allow Jesus to keep expanding our vision. The ques-tion for us: Do we seek out Jesus as our Teacher? If we enter into Matthew's final-judgment scene, how does Jesus find us "seeing" and dealing with our fellow men and women? With our aware-ness of ecological balance, how responsible are we to an envi-ronment given over to our care? Does "all things being created in him" affect our attitude of reverence in exploring Mars or some galaxy in the future? We talk about "getting stuck in our ways." We sometimes car-icature it as a special problem for the older person, but it has no age boundaries. We see children quickly get into certain ritualized ways of playing. We certainly know such patterns in our own behavior. In fact, prejudice is a fixed way of seeing or of relating. In the face of personal and historical evidence, it is a paradox to be engaged in a growing relationship with Jesus and at the same time to cling to prejudice. Does prejudice signal to us that we may be trying to focus myopically on the Jesus relationship without let-ring Jesus be Teacher for us? We may forget that faith vision is a grace always to be prayed for. Perhaps we have placed ourselves more in the position of Peter refusing to let his feet be washed, and we too need to hear Jesus' reprimand that unless we allow him to wash our feet (that is, allow our relationship with Jesus to affect our way of seeing and of acting) we will end up having no rela-tionship with him. We need to be challenged by the Pauline vision to enter into the divine pleasure of reconciling everything--both on the earth and in the heavens--in Christ. At the close of a liturgical year, as we listen to the Gospel accounts of end times and final-judgment scenes and then move on, in Advent, to the careful preparations for God's entering into our human history in Jesus, we realize anew how we are called to play our part in the cosmic vision--what St. Paul called "the mystery of Christ," the divine de, sign of salvation. Like St. Paul, we too want to make Christ known, hoping to make every human being complete in Christ, since in him--the image of the invisi-ble God--we see God's image of what it means to be human. And in our Christmas awe we continue to pray that we may have eyes to see that Mystery Incarnate, "the fullness of him who fills the universe in all its parts.'? David L. Fleming SJ The editors and staff of Review for Religious wish all our readers a most blessed Christmas and New Year! Noventber-Decevnber 1997 MARIE VIANNEY BILGRIEN SolidaritymMore than a Polish Thing virtues For too long, people have equated the concept of solidar-ity with the Solidarity Union Movement in Poland in the 1980s. On the other hand, many people have not paid any attention to solidarity because they thought of it either as a Polish thing or as just a passing event. For a few years solidarity generated written articles and symposiums after Pope John Paul II named solidarity a virtue in his 1987 encyclical Sollicitudo rei socialis. Can one birth new virtues in our religious tradition? I suspect one can, if one is pope and writing an encyclical. So maybe sol-idarity is a Polish thing! In any case, interest in the virtue soon died down. I know this because in 1994, when I was in Rome writing my dissertation tided Solidarity: d Principle, an Attitude, a Duty, or The Virtue for an Interdependent I4rorld, I seemed the only one interested in it--especially as a virtue. Yet there is a new surge of interest, due to the linea-menta prepared for the Synod of America titled Encounter with the Living.Jesus Christ: Vday to Conversion, Communion, and Solidarity. In the lineamenta, solidarity is referred to as a principle, a duty, and a virtue. Individuals and groups are urged to practice solidarity "to channel effective aid to groups and nations which suffer from poverty." Solidarity as a virtue is "a morally necessary reaction to the exis- Marie Viarmey Bilgrien SSND, director of the Hispanic ministry office in the diocese of Baker, may be addressed at P.O. Box 823; Madras, Oregon 97741 Review for Religious tence of injustice in social conditions" that affects many individ-uals and nations. Emphasizing the fact of interdependence, the lineamenta stresses that solidarity must be practiced not only by individual persons, but by entire peoples and nations, inasmuch as the world is economically, culturally, and politically more and more interconnected. What one country does regarding migra-tion, the use of natural resources, the drug trade, genetic manip-ulation, international economic relations, and so forth affects many other countries. The lineamenta stresses that solidarity is part of the church's social teaching and is to be practiced by everyone (§55); it explains as does Sollicitudo rei socialis that, if we want to undo the structures of sin so prevalent in our world, the solution lies in the moral realm. Just as sins of individuals create structures of sin that take on a hideous existence of their own, "an all-consuming desire for profit and thirst for power," so too acts of the virtue of solidarity by individuals, groups, and nations can build up structures of virtue that have a "decisive influence on economic programs and policies, on social communication, on culture, on healthcare, and so forth" not only locally but also nationally and internationally. It will be interesting to see how the idea of solidarity plays out in the meetings and documents of the Pan-America synod. Solidarity has a longer history than most people realize. It appears five times in the Latin of the Vatican II documents: twice in Apostolicam actuositatem, §8 and §14, and three times in Gaudium et spes, §§4, 32, and 57. In reading the texts one can glean that solidarity has an important spiritual dimension. It is a part of charity and has an individual and a universal dimension. It creates a responsibility to act. Jesus' incarnation shows his and God's sol-idarity with humanity. Our response to that gift is the practice of solidarity, recognizing that we are one family, that we have received gifts and talents to be used cooperatively--for the good of the whole family. Paul VI used the idea of solidarity extensively, especially in Populorumprogressio (see §§17, 43, 44, 48, 62, 64, 73, 80, and 84). It also appears in the Italian translation of Pius XII's encyclical Summipontificatus in 1939. He understood solidarity as the unity Jesus" incarnation shows his and God's solidarity with humanity. November-December 1997 Bilgrien ¯ SolidaritymMore than a Polish Thing of the human race, our.common origin from our Creator, sharing a "common habitation, this world of ours whose resources every-one has a natural right to enjoy., as they are needed for preser-vation and self-development." John Paul has been writing about solidarity since 1969. In his book The Acting Person, in describing personal development, he devotes a whole chapter to the necessity of attitudes of both oppo-sition and solidarity for the true and complete development of mature persons. In naming solidarity a virtue, he gives it greater importance. What does that mean? Solidarity as an attitude, duty, or principle only helps people to do the right thing, but as a virtue it helps them to become good. Duty implies decision and action, but virtue implies a disposition, a power, a perfection. Duty asks, What should I do? Virtue asks, How should I be? Virtue helps us do the right thing for the right reason. Solidarity is a virtue not only for individual persons, but also for groups working together and for nations in a world that is ever more interdependent. Solidarity is the virtue that can move society to the good. Solidarity is the virtue that can transform persons and society. In describing the virtue in Sollicitudo rei socialis, John Paul says that it is the response to relationships in a world that is inter-dependent; "it is a firm and persevering determination to commit oneself to the common good" (§38). He adds that the virtue is valid only when we recognize others as human persons, equal in dignity; when we feel responsible for those who are weaker--the poor (§39). In two paragraphs he lays out the components of the virtue of solidarity: interdependence, the common good, the dignity of the person, the preferential option for the poor. Solidarity recognizes that people, nations, all of creation are interconnected. What happens in one area of the world can have tremendous effects in another part. The actions of individuals, nations, and blocs of nations either increase the structures of sin (thirst for power, all-consuming desire for profit, ethnic wars, unjust wages, inhuman working conditions, patterns of violence and sexual abuse) or can build up structures of virtue (cooperative efforts to bring about a more just world and preserve the integrity of creation: the United Nations, groups concerned about ecol-ogy, peace-and-justice commissions, and so forth). Solidarity as a virtue recognizes people as equal in dignity and worthy of respect. Solidarity as a virtue sees each person as a Review for Religious member of the world family, as an image and likeness of God. Instead of looking at others as simply other, solidarity helps us to see them as neighbors, as brothers and sisters. From this flow the importance and necessity of working together to preserve the human family and the integrity of creation. Some of this can be seen in the work of the U.N. as it sends groups to work with refugees or promote peace between warring eth-nic groups. One sees the virtue in Doctors with-out Frontiers, who work in many parts of the world, and in other volunteer groups promot-ing health, education, and housing in poor coun-tries of the world. In accepting and recognizing the human dignity of each person, there must be a focus on those who are poorest. Both John Paul and Paul VI noted that their eyes were opened to the poor during their travels to Latin America and India. When one stands in a different place, one sees differently. Moving out from the Vatican palace to the streets of Calcutta and the barrios of Rio de Janeiro changes the view. Their eyes were opened; their awareness of people's suffering intensified. After those journeys, both popes talked more and more strongly about the necessity of "an option for the poor." In Sollicitudo rei socialis John Paul explains that a preferential option is not an exclusive option, but is a "firm and irrevocable option." Solidarity with its component of an option for the poor helps us to see the wider issues, the intertwining of systems and structures that oppress the poor rather than raise them up. Somewhere, in solidarity's judgment, the poor have a role. It is not true solidarity if the poor are overlooked or treated with conde-scension. In each judgment that is made, each action taken, one should ask: How will this affect the poor? The real goal of an option for the poor is to move beyond helping them and provid-ing care. The goal is for the poor to be authors of their own actions, to make their own decisions, decisions that are effective in moving them from poverty to participation in society. The goal is for them to be no longer .treated as children incapable of tak-ing care of themselves, but to participate in decision making so that the effects of solidarity are felt by all and begin to reshape the unjust structures that keep the poor poor. Only when the poor Solidarity recognizes that people, nations, all of creation are interconnected. November-December 1997 Bilgrien ¯ Solidarity--More than a Polish Thing are treated with full dignity will the virtue of solidarity begin to flourish in all its splendor. What is at stake is the common good, the good of all and the good of each individual, and solidarity is the virtue that commits everyone to the common good. Solidarity directs nations to sub-ordinate their national interests for the good of the planet, for the good of all. Solidarity directs individuals to transcend their greed and selfishness and focus on the good of the whole. Our years of selfishness, of greed for power and money, have caused havoc in the environment and have placed future genera-tions in jeopardy. No one can quash worrisome questions about the "greenhouse effect," about the dangers of the ozone level in the atmosphere, and about unknown effects of massive deforesta-tion and the continuous piling up of industrial waste. We continue to kill our planet. The widespread experimentation and manipula-tion in the biological sciences has outrun our ability to make moral decisions. Those decisions or indecisions will have for future gen-erations repercussions that we cannot predict. Solidarity is the virtue that can bring us to a greater consciousness of the importance of our moral decisions. Solidarity, by focusing the common good, reminds us that the differences of race, gender, ethnicity, culture, and economic status do not have to be divisive. Solidarity is the virtue for the third millennium. It has the capacity to inform interdependence in such a way that persons, peoples, countries, and nations will relate to each other equally, as members of the same family. Solidarity as a virtue orders actions and relationships towards the common good. It is the virtue that can transform a world of unjust structures, structures of sin, into structures of virtue, structures of justice, family structures. The general secretariat of the Synod of Bishops in its working paper has begun to answer the call of John Paul to unite all peoples of the Western Hemisphere and offers the practice of solidarity as one of the ways to solve the massive problems and inequities of the two continents. Conversion, communion, and solidarity in, with, and through Jesus Christ will be important on the journey into the third millennium. Solidarity is only the beginning. Review for Religious JOHN L. BARBER The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias anlthe pages of the sacred text, we find many courageous, but so human, people. One .such bold, authentic person was Ananias of the Book of Acts. The prelude to his encounter with Paul (then named Saul) is recorded as follows: A disciple called Ananias who lived in Damascus had a vision in which he heard the Lord say to him, "Ananias!" When he replied, "Here I am, Lord," the Lord said, "You must go to Straight Street and ask at the house of Judas for someone called Saul, who comes from Tarsus. At this moment he is praying and having a vision of a man called Ananias coming in and laying hands on him to give him back his sight." When he heard that, Ananias said, "Lord, several people have told me about this man and all the harm he has been doing to your saints in Jerusalem. He has only come here because he holds a warrant from the chief priest to arrest everybody who invokes your name." The Lord replied, "You must go all the same, because this man is my chosen instru-ment to bring my name before pagans and pagan kings and before the people of Israel. I myself will show him how much he himself must suffer for my name." Then Ananias went. (Ac 9:10-16)~ We know very little about Ananias, other than what we glean from this short account in Acts; he was "a disciple" of Jesus and lived in Damascus. Rather than being a longtime citizen of that city, our Ananias may have been a refugee from the persecution of Christians in Jerusalem. Though this is uncertain, we will John L. Barber, a lawyer, married and the father of two college-age sons, is also a lay minister at St. Paul's Episcopal Church. He writes to us from 600 Nokomis Court; Winston-Salem, North Carolina 27106. November-Decentber 1997 Barber ¯ The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias Saul is not only a real person, but also a symbol for the challenge to move from what we know, from safety, into the unknown and risk. --y-72J assume that he was indeed one who had fled from religious oppression. From Paul's address to the Jews of Jerusalem, we learn he was also "a devout follower of the Law and highly thought of by all the Jews living" in Damascus (Ac 22:12). Apparently his name was a common one, for in Acts we meet two other Ananiases. The first appears in chapter 5--Sapphira's husband, who lied to the Holy Spirit--and in chapter 23 we encounter the other, the high priest who ordered Paul struck on the mouth. In the same type of human plight in which our faith is tested, the constancy of Ananias was tried. In this sense Saul is a metaphor for those predicaments into which we must walk, involving a difficult or dangerous person or situation and presenting some risk from which we fear harm. The potential injury we face may not be as grave as the arrest and imprisonment that Ananias dreaded. Nonetheless, to us it feels and seems harmful, and we are afraid. As we journey on our Christian pilgrimage, all of us must face our own fear-provoking Sauls. Who are these Sauls for us? They are those places and people to which we would not go, were it not for God leading, moving, and stirring us and urging us to grow. They are life passages and problems we would not engage in, were it not for God inviting us or interrupting our lives. Saul may appear in life passages such as a midlife crisis or that time when the last child leaving home creates what is commonly called "the empty nest." In these interruptions we lose our bearings. Our "Saul" in them is the challenge of finding our direction again and reorienting ourselves. They might be crises like a divorce or the death of a spouse or loved one, the loss of a job or dissatisfaction with one's career. In these situations we face Saul when we are forced out of our ruts to seek new or renewed meaning for life. Saul is not only a real person, but also a symbol for the chal-lenge to move from what we know, from safety, into the unknown and risk. He is a sign for that time in life when our devotion to God demands concrete but hazardous action. We may find our Sauls in people with whom we have some Review for Religious confrontation, particularly if we are conflict avoiders. On the other hand, the Saul could be a confrontation with our own selves as we meet the challenge of seeing the truth in our own failings and weaknesses, limitations andsins, and dysfunctions and addic-tions. The dangerous Saul might be the challenge of learning healthier ways of relating and living. These types of self-con-frontation, in which we face the painful reality in our own hearts, can require even more courage than conflict with others. Typically, life's Sauls, in the guise of hard and risky challenges, involve both types of encounters: encountering self and encountering another person or some passage or crisis. For both of these, fortunately, we have a guide in the person of Ananias: he faced his own fear and Saul as well. A pattern for a bold Christian spirituality, he presents, when viewed from dif-ferent angles, a multidimensional courage. What, then, were some of the facets of his intrepidity? His Christian courage involved at least five attributes: openness before God, obedience, reluc-tance, calculated surrender, and the gift of grace. Openness before God The characters of the Bible portray many different stances or postures vis-~a-vis God. The prophet Jonah tried "to get away from Yahweh" (Jon 1:3). In Genesis, after Adam and Eve suc-cumbed to temptation, they hid from the Lord God who came to them "walking in the garden in the cool of the day." Ananias, on the other hand, was neither taking flight nor hiding. While he may have fled the persecution in Jerusalem, he did not flee from God. The Lord did not have to say to him, "Ananias, where are you?" as he did to Adam (Gn 3:8-10) or unleash "a violent wind on the sea" as he did against Jonah (Jon 1:4). Instead, Ananias had laid, himself bare before God, saying, "Here I am, Lord. Speak, your servant is listening." This "I-tere I am, Lord" stance in the presence of God is the courageous spirituality. Living "out there," in front of God, is the stalwart posture of discipleship. It is scary to live openly before God. What sins will God allow us to see? How will the glow of his love and the heat of his righteousness feel on our faces? What sufferings that our broth-ers and sisters endure will we, too, be privileged to face? What will the Lord ask us to do? For example, we pray earnestly, longing to hear God as clearly as Ananias did. Then, L.f-73 November-December 1997 Barber ¯ The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias when we do, we are hesitant to do what God has asked of us. We question God, saying, "Lord, did you really say what I thought you said?" or "God, I wanted you to speak to me, but I really don't want to do what you asked." Hiding from God among the trees of the garden is the spir-ituality of fear. Taking flight from God is the spirituality of escape. Openness before God is the spirituality of Ananias. Obedience The obedience of Ananias flowed out of his openness before God. This aspect of courage led to another, that of obedience. Courage for the Christian is different from bravery in other con-texts. For the believer, courage is connected to our obedience to God. An outgrowth of Ananias's openness was his vision in which he heard God speak, a time of intent listening for and to the voice of God. According to author Henri Nouwen, there is a com-monalty between obedience and intent listening. The word obe-dience springs from the Latin ob-audire, which signifies intent listening? Such intent listening is an act of courage in itself. For, if we begin to listen, we may come to know the sound of God's voice. And, if we come to know the sound of the voice, we may actually hear it. And, if we hear what God has to say to us, we are left in a dilemma of response and answer, as was Ananias. Reluctant Courage In our society we tend to view brave people as those who have no fear. In fact, the word "fearless" is a synonym for "courage." Yet, if we wait until we have no fright or consternation before we take a particular action, we will never act; for who among us is never afraid? This, however, is all-or-nothing thinking. Instead of being either valiant or afraid, we are simultaneously both3--valiant and afraid. Bravery, in truth, is action in spite of fear. In the face of the terror which looks us straight in the eyes, courage is a life stance or attitude which enables us to go to that dreadful place where God may be leading and we otherwise would not travel. For Ananias, bravery existed coexisted with his fear. He was obviously afraid of Saul, who journeyed to Damascus "still breath-ing threats to slaughter the Lord's disciples" (Ac 9:1). Having ReviewforReligious heard the Lord, Ananias responded by saying, "But, Lord, let me point out a few things to you. This Saul is a dangerous man. He might arrest me and put me in prison. I've already fled Jerusalem to get away from persecution, and now you want me to walk straight back into it." There is no evi-dence that Ananias ever got over being afraid of Saul. Although he was reluctant in his fear of Saul, Ananias nevertheless responded in faithfulness to the voice of God. He went to Saul in and with his fear. Following the example of Ananias, courage for the Christian exists not in overcoming our human- Courage for the Christian exists not in overcoming our humanity, but in our humanity. ity, but in our humanity. For the Christian, courage lives where there is obedience to the voice of God in spite of a very real dread. A Calculated Surrender For the Christian, courage is also an ambiguous place of ten-sion between knowing and counting the costs of our obedience, on the one hand, and, on the other, surrendering to consequences of our listening to God that are yet unknown. It is action flowing out of a paradoxical wisdom and foolishness. Whatever we might say about Ananias, he counted the cost of obeying God. He knew the risks. About our Ananias, there was a certain sophistication and wisdom. He had a firm grip on life as it really is, including the ugly part, particularly if he was a refugee from the persecution in Jerusalem. As a realistic person, his brav-ery was not a gullible one. Arrest, prison, stoning, persecution-- he knew very well what he might be getting into if he obeyed God and went to Saul. He was regardful of the reality of this man, who "entirely approved of the killing" of Stephen and "worked for the total destruction of the Church" by going "from house to house arresting both men and women and sending them to prison." (Ac 8:1 and 3). While he was well acquainted with the kind of man he was, his encounter with Saul also held a very real terror of the unknown and unfamiliar. Ananias did not know whether he would survive this ordained meeting or be stoned to death. Though we count the costs of our obedience, we still cannot know the ultimate out- Noventber-December 1997 Barber ¯ The Paradoxical Courage of Ananias come. The future cannot be envisioned. An old Jewish proverb says that "man plans but God laughs." Despite our best planning we cannot eliminate all surprises and exigencies. For the Christian, courage involves surrender into the hidden outcome of our obe-dience. In our confrontations we must know the risks we face. We are called to be wise as serpents. At the same time we cannot fore-see all the risks, and so our courage must have some element of surrender in it. In facing others we miglit lose our jobs, endure retribution, or suffer alienation in relationships. In the passages and crises of life, we might be forced from our comfortable lifestyle to one of greater risk as well as service and deeper mean-ing. In discovering ourselves as we really are, we may feel the heat of God's gaze with an intensity similar to the sun shining through a magnifying glass. Discomforting it is to see both the chaff and the wheat of the ripening crop of our own lives. Ananias's intrepidity was not naive, but one rooted in reality. Nonetheless, it involved a letting go of his life and relinquish-ment to God. If we are to be brave Christians, we must enter the place of tension between counting the cost and surrender. Gift of Grace We return to the name Ananias. For actors in the Biblical drama, a name was significant. So it was for Ananias. His name is derived from the Hebrew name Hananiah, meaning "the Lord is gracious" or "the Lord shows grace." For us to hear God's voice, the Lord must speak--which in itself is a special grace. With its limited resources, our own courage can take us only so far. Then, in order to heed the sound of God's voice, we come to the point where our humanity needs a healthy dose of grace. God's gra-ciousness is our access to Christian courage that is required of us if we are to be disciples. Grace is the window through which we step from hiding before God to the presence of God. Grace is the threshold which we cross from a fearful inaction to an obe-dience of reluctant courage. The irony of Christian courage is that it requires both a personal achievement and a gift from God. Living openly before God, Ananias of Damascus exposed him-self to hear whatever the Lord might say. Once he heard the voice of God, he responded in obedience. But his response was a human one of courage in its reluctance and hesitancy in its bravery. Review for Religious Realistic in his intrepidity, he both knew the risk and counted the cost of going to Saul. At the same time, he abandoned himself to the unknown consequences. Then he relied on God's grace so that he might be obedient to his voice. To varying degrees we are all Ananiases, whom William Barclay called "one of the forgotten heroes of the Christian Church." The mystery is that we are persons of paradox--as was Ananias; reluctantly courageous, calculated in our surrender, and obedient through grace--as was Ananias. Notes ~ Scripture quotations are from the Jerusalem Bible. 2 Seeds of Hope: A Henri Nouwen Reader, ed. Robert Durback, p. xxix. 3 I am indebted to Maurice Briggs MA for this insight about "all or nothing" or "either!or" thinking ove? and against "both/and" thinking. Rev. Briggs is a member of the faculty in the Department of Chaplaincy and Pastoral Education at North Carolina Baptist Hospital, Winston- Salem, North Cai'olina. Advent Cave Plato knew about the dark, how we prisoners face the wall in chains, only the fire b~hind us letting us see the m~oving shadows we call real. Far above, looms the door to light, reachable only by those who turn ~ away,from all they know. Wisdom, who lived in the cave at Nazareth where parents made a home and carried water to thefire, sitting at night in quiet, thoughts and the animals dozing near embers, the dying light, after a day of learning the real, calls us to turn and face the door. Evelyn Mattern November-Deconber 1997 MARGARET MARY KNITTEL | A Quilt, a Council, and a Church working together The quilt movement should be preserved as a col-lective enterprise with an ethical concern. If taken seriously as women's art, quilts cannot be perceived and enjoyed as isolated aesthetic objects divorced from the relationships of women to each other and to the rest of humankind. Quilts emin~ently pose the question of how one behaves in the asking and viewing of art. --Radka Donnell, Quilts as Women's Art Twenty years ago I took several tries at developing skills "for the home," sensing at first blush of midlife that my. more productive impulses would require something for my hands to do in my old age. Firs~t, there were the needlepoint classes, ~e.~n quilting. Quiltmaking is not for the faint of heart. As a dropout from Advanced Quilting, I can attest to the shaky feeling in the knees when faced with what appears to be an infinite number of steps. This quiltmaking episode would be instructive. As I have come to understand them, both quiltmaking and organizations involve mutuality and interdependence as essential pro-cesses within their respective collective enterprises. A Collective Enterprise In quiltmaking, the mutuality and interdependence of the women are reflected in th~ final product. Design, tex- Margaret Mary Knittei RSM works as a grants consultant for nonprofit organizations. She may be addressed at P.O. Box 634; Geneva, Illinois 60134. Review for Religious ture, color, and template come together through their hands, through their spirit shaping. "Quilts are healing because they accept the uniqueness, the positive difference, and the mortal limit of each human being."1 A quilt's design, texture, color, and template over a period of time will collect these human beings and express their individualities anew. Design, texture, color, template .become interdependent, one with the others, to bring beauty to the whole. The overall design of a quilt needs a working principle, a template, to express the color and'the texture, to specify the difference. One shape, a tri-angle for example, can be the basic design of countless quilts~ The textures of various fabrics add to color and design, with the template giving the basic shape. Color in all its bold or modest hues as textured by the various materials gets a specific shape and then is pieced'into a growing design. The mutuality and interdependence among the quiltmakers affirm them all. Positive differences go somewhere into a future, not wasting time with empty words of control; rather, they speak of vision. Limit recognizes this is a bordered piece, this quilt, and we its .shapers affirm the grace of the moment~, knowing it could be the grace of a lifetime. .Quiltmaking is a healing image, one that includes authentic conversation, meaning-filled relationships, among the people sharing the brganizational life of a parish, a religious community, a church. "Religion here is the sensation of being one with the whole, of belonging, not of subjection.''~ The virtues of quilt-making are the virtues of a healthy human organization. A Demo~cratic and Affirming Mission . Radka Donnell says in her perceptive book: "To the work of piecing quilts I was silently called, and i( took me years to sort 6ut the problems it revealed and the-difficulties it created. The early groups of contemporary quiltmakers were inspired by a sense of mission. If not expressly feminist in each case, this mission certainly was democratic and affirmative of each individual quiltmaker a'nd each quilt. (p. 6) The metaphor of quiltmaking can remind us of the Second Vatican Council's challenge to the church to accept both its divine mission and the human organization called to participate in thLa$t-7-9 November-December 1997 Knittel ¯ A Quilt, a Council, and a Church mission. Facing problems and difficulties, it is an organization capable of error, of hurt and pain, in search of truth, in sea.rch of healing and grace. During the thirty and more years since the council's call, at times its substantive energy seems depleted and diminished; but ultimately, in the hearts of people, the message will never be muffled or suffocated. The post-Vatican church as organization, as. human organi-zation, seems destined for democratic and affirming conversa-tions. That kind of, change and growth lies in the hands of all believers, as people seated as equals around a corporate quilt. If we are quiet.like the quiltmakers, we still hear, from the heart of the council, that call, that sense of being missioned, to the inclu-sive and respectful goodness of lives lived to the full in the sight of God. Our lives continue on, and as we look desperately for mileposts we acknowledge we are still on the way. Concerns for democratically and respectfully affirming connections become earnest calls for better ways of being together, whether it be in a parish, a religious community, or the church universal. Religious organizations, as human organizations, need to face their corporate humanity. A corporate way of being human is important, whether we admit or deny the fact, whether we like it or not. The foibles of people's human interaction can be acutely felt at an individual level. Often, however, corporate humanity recognizes the problems only after many have been hurt. Words like "low morale" or "uncooperative" become blame tags. The dilemma for leadership is that, when you blame, you do not lead. The nature of bureaucracies is to maintain power, no. matter what the cost. The church needs to ask itself just how bureau-cratic it wants to be. If it chooses to be increasingly pastoral, it will find that parishes, religious orders, dioceses, and the church uni-versal will raise new questions, demand new ways of~behaving. Within a bureaucratic church organization, the individual-- parishioner, ~priest, vowed religious, bishop, employee--will mat-ter less than the maintenance of power: posturing, identifying totally with power, seeking to dominate. To survive, members might feel they must be subservient in one way or another. Within a bureaucracy the common good is co-defined with the maintenance of the organization itself. More time and energy are given to protecting a bureaucratically bungled decision than to thinking through afresh what is happening. Things as we hard known them remain the same. In the face of an entrenched Review for Religious bureaucracy, the better educated, the more aware, may leave. Feeling tokenism and lack of care, they may go off, re,searching for their soul. For those who stay, the mission seems dissolved within the bureaucratic. Doing the task mindlessly and relating to self, oth-ers, and God make it all bearable. Fair Dealing Radka Donnell makes this observation about quiltmaking: To be interested in the theory and practice of quiltmaking means to look for fair dealing between women, as well as between men and women. It indicates a readiness to fight against all obstacles preventing us from creating a better world together. (p. 72) One systems view of organizations sees them as made up of four equal subsystems, mutually interdependent in their rela-tionships. These four separate and different subsystems are called the task, the structure, informal groups, and the individual. These four separate and different subsystems function optimally when all are equal to one another in importance and mutually interde-pendent in their relating. If one of these subsystems puffs up, the whole system is affected. The other subsystems get leaned upon, diminishing their contributions within the whole. If one of these subsystems withers, the functioning whole likewise suffers, gets skewed. Parishes; religious communities, and the church universal as human organizations are distinct systems. Each could be said to consist of the four subsystems of task, structure, informal groups, and the individual. The Task as Subsystem. The task in a. religious community would be its charism, the unique mission of a community as per-ceived within the Catholic tradition in its particular context. Similarly, a parish has a particular local task to accomplish. A contemplative group of religious women varies from an active one, and0an inner-city parish from a suburban one. While each participates in a still larger system, locally they are themselves separate organizations. Over time numerous activities accrete to any organization, but its central mission remains. Confusion, dif-ferences, outright hostilities occur when an important question is not acknowledged or goes unasked: "Just who does the sending, November-December 1997 Knittel ¯ A Quilt, a Council, and a Church the missioning?" Is it God, a founder or foundress, this hospital, a church, the history of a town or city? The Structure as Subsystem. The second subsystem to be looked at here is structui'e or governance. Within a community or a parish, we all know the persons making up the structure. Vv'hether community government be elected or discerned, it finds itself in Whether community government be elected or discerned, it finds itself in a quandary of expectations from membership, and from itself. a quandary of expectations from mem-bership and from itself. Likewise, a new pastor looking around for the first time feels various expectations arising. Leadership needs to lead, but, when it does, its performance may not fit pre-conceived notions. Then leadership may be tempted to resist the future; to lean back and maintain the present, and hence to end up reissuing the past. Leadership in the ideal sustains the vision of the common good, which in itself is a process both democratic and affirming. A structure ideally assumes lines and processes of accountability that are at .once just and active. Leapfrogging .and micromanaging from a0distant central office can bypass managers and commit-tees on the scene and violate the rights of the organization itself. Again, if local people .spontaneously blurt out their evaluation of an associate pastor at a parish council meeting, they bypass proper procedures and strip away the individual's right to an appropriate evaluation of job performance. The structure, we need to remem-ber, is one of four equal and interdependent, subsystems contex~ tualized within an organization. Informal Groups as Subsystem, The informal groups in an orga-nization would be various clusters of individuals espousing simi-lar norms and sanctions among themselves. They appear neutral in a well-functioning organization, manifesting as they do a nat-ural affinity of persons. Sometimes, however, an informal group skews an organization, a company, a religious community, or a parish by losing sight of the larger task, the mission, the com-mon good, and seeking its own way of goverfiing the whole. The informal group may try to impose its own values on the majority in any number of ways: by inclusion, exclusion, intimidation, and oppression, by pushing to be the most holy, the most dedicated to Review for Religious the poor, the most attentive to keeping the church intact, the most pro-life. Many masks can disguise the will for power over others, and an informal group in any organization can obscure and even obliterate the vision. The Individual as Subsystem. The fourth subsystem within this model of organization is the individual. Individuals and the moti-vations they bring to the organization impact the entire system. The recognition of the variety of motivations at play within any group can be a sobering and staggering realization. From studies on the impact of opportunity in organizations, we know that the "anointed" in organizations, those high flyers who move quickly through ~the ranks, are given life through our desire to observe them as winners. We endow their ideas and words with more credibility. We entrust them with more resources and better assignments. We have already decided that they will succeed, and so we continu-ally observe them with the expectation that they will con-firm our beliefs.3 The anointed individual in this language of organization-as-system distorts the life of the organization, overshadowing struc-ture, informal groups, task or mission, and other individuals. Other members give over their .truth, their experience, and, in thus surrendering their individual dignity, they suffocate the pos-sibility of democracy or the achievement of the common good. The anointed individual becomes a god. Within a church or reli: gious organization the confusion of gods for God needs contin-ued sorting. Self-Healing Among her comments about quilting, Radka Donnell says: The.more the system gets into high gear, the more self-he~ aling is needed. (pp. 126-127) In church organizations, isolation and wrongly constructed obediences sometimes intensifies the claim of the few to be anoint-eds. A particular organization's structure, informal groups, and task or mission could conceivably be dominated by an anointed; in this mix, religious language might be used to cover ambition, to anoint the anointed. A wonderful scene from the movie Richard 111 swipes at the capacity of religious language to cover up. Richard, pretending to be secluded and hard at prayer, emerges to be "convinced." to November-Dece~nber 1997 Knittel ¯ A Quilt, a Council, and a Church accept the English throne he has serpentinely plotted and mur-dered to acquire, Knowing that people consider him in some way the anointed one, he now considers himself a god. He becomes increasingly foreign to those around him, and later he meets defeat in battle. Have we ever looked on when a locally anointed individual (now apparently feeling godlike as well) strongly inserted irrele-vant and impertinent opinion into a community or parish com-mittee, spilling the work of months down the drain? Numbers of those very committee members, still ~motionally inclined to attribute greater knowledge and perhaps even a cosmic wisdom to the anointed one, may find themselves recoiling in disarray. Can we recall an experience in our lifetime when an individual crashed through the lines of accountability appropriate to structure, manipulated informal groups by feeding them what they want to hear, and used language of mission or church or patriotism to keep the advantage? Is this the call of the prophetic, we. wonder, as we give over our own individual power to this other individual, the anointed? "Prophetic ministry consists of offering an alternative perception of reality and in letting people see their own history in the light of God's freedom and his will for justice.''4 The test suggested is whether the anointed gives space for us to reflect courageously on our 'individual histories "in the light of God's freedom." To con-tinually strive to see one's own history in God's light will be to know our own history, our own experience, anew each time. This is not a blaming game, an unhealed existence, or a quick fix with aphorisms, but a genuine opening in my life, your life, for healing, for Jesus the Christ. Self-healing is not a plastic therapy for believers, but an engagement with a living. God. The question remains: Does the message of an. anointed one leave room for all these variables, for the lights of a freeing God? Margaret Wheadey contrasts the "anointed" individual within an organization to the "dead" individual. Others in organizations go unobserved, irrevocably invisi-ble, bundles of potential that no one bothers to look at. Or they receive summary glances, are observed to be "dead," and are thereafter locked into jobs that provide them with no opportunity to display their many pote.ntials,s A post-Vatican II church unfurled to Catholics a new way of being, and we need to revisit those challenges. Dying to self, we Review for Religious have come to increasingly realize, never meant not unbundling our own gifts, our own graces, as we become acquainted with them. Our own baptismal anointing as Christians, no longer a vague memory, becomes a constant call. But, alas, we knew that struggling to be "undead"--not be to an anointed, just to be undead--would have its own price, Declaring the king to be naked in a bureaucracy brings life-mark-ing, career-reversing implications. A question, a deviation, could bring death-dealing expulsion from the informal life of the group or from the larger organization itself. Each person having and wanting to have influence, each want-ing to "see their own history in the light of God's freedom," becomes incessantly difficult if declared or assumed to be among the "dead." The equality of persons within an organization is the paradigm for the equality of each subsystem in the model offered here. Puffing up one impinges upon all the others. Withering one depletes all. Equality equates to mutuality among members. The Incessant Pursuit The church, embracing sinners in her bosom, is at the same time holy and always in need of being purified, and inces-santly pursues the path of penance and .renewal. (Lumen gentium, §8) The processes of quiltmaking and the processes of organiza-tions call for an incessant pursuit of mutuality and interdepen-dence among women and men equal before a loving God. The Second Vatican Council invited the church of the 20th century to know both its humanity and its wonder. If parishes, orders of women and men religious, and the church universal in a post-Vatican II church accept themselves as corporate human organizations, they will steadily come to under- Stand the strengths and pitfalls that accompany such aggregate groups, The rich heritage of the church cannot afford to forget that it is an organization of human persons. Such forgetting rehearses feudal futility. There is both frailty and strength in its organizational life. At the level of shared humanity, frailties and strengths within any group will always be fa!i'ly evident. To deny this shared humanity is to set up the religious organization as exempt from the foibles and frets that indeed call on God for its life principle. Novetnber-Decentber 1997 Knittel ¯ A Quilt, a Council, and a Church "The church, or, in other words, the kingdom of Christ now pres-ent in mystery, grows visibly in the world through the power of God" (LG §3). To deny the church's humanness is to deny the power of God. As we continue to unpack that sublimely historic event we fondly call "the council," there is more to do, more to remind others about, more for ourselves to be .reminded about. The Roman Catholic Church as a religious organization, ceasing to gloss over its frail corporate humanity, will come to understand its corporateness at a more profound level. The church as a human organization will come to truly trust in the mystery of its shared life of faith in Jesus the Christ. This living quilt we call "church" calls to a people deeply conversant with a living God. Notes I Radka Donnell, Quilts as Women's Art: A Quilt Poetics (North Vancouver, Canada: GaIlerie Publications, 1990), p. 425. 2 Dorothee Soelle, Theology for Skeptics (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1995), p. 28. 3 Margaret J. Wheadey, Leadership and the New Science (San Francisco: Berrett-Koehler Publishers, 1994), p. 60. 4 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 110. s Wheatley, pp. 60-61. Subscriptions to Review for Religious can now be ordered or renewed by I~AX and.paid for by MasterCardor ~sa. FAX the order form inside the back cov~r~ or CALL our office with, you~r.tcgedit carol numbi~r:.? o. FAX: 314-~-7-7362 ¯ PHONE: 314297727363 Review for Religious JOEL GIALLANZA Communitym Healthy or Dysfunctional? ~or these reflections about community living in religious .~. orders and congregations, I propose what may seem a curi-ous biblical passage, the one that concludes with "Very well, pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar--and God what belongs to God" (Mr 22:21). We are more accustomed to texts on loving one another or bearing one another's burdens or remaining united and at peace among ourselves or reconciling with one another whenever necessary. All those principles and practices are very important for the life of a healthy community. From this text, however, two :practical norms can be drawn which also are impor-tant for life in community: appropriateness and balance. These two norms are tightly intertwined, like a fine weaving; in fact, both can be drawn from those same words of Jesus: "Pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar--and God what belongs to God." First, appropriateness: We do not give to Caesar what belongs to God or to God what belongs to Caesar. In community we can bring realities into~our life together which are not really appro-priate precisely because they are misplaced: for example, unfair expectations of someone or of one another as a group; unwill-ingness to share or communicate something which by our pro-fession we commit ourselves to share and communicate; personal agendas, with their accompanying attitudes and perspectives, and emotions, which may really belong in ministry or to only one of our relationships or somewhere else altogether. Joel Giallanza CSC writes for us once again from: Congregation of the Holy Cross; Via Framura, 85; 00168 Roma; Italy. November-December 1997 Giallanza ¯ Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? Serious personal reflection and realistic self-knowledge bring with them the ability to answer this simple question: Where does what I am experiencing--this issue, this feeling, this concern-- belong? Where will it be most appropriately articulated and addressed? Inappropriate placement of issues, feelings, and con-cerns generates an inadequate response. Then all frustrations sur-rounding them will be intensified as they continue to be unaddressed. Second, balance: We give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God at the same time. Of the two points, balance is the more challenging, even on a daily basis. Most of our time and energy as apostolic religious are invested in ministry. This is important, given who we are as religious com-mitted to continue the mission of Jesus in the spirit of our founders and foundresses. Nevertheless, we do need to remind ourselves from time to time that each of us has only one limited pool of time and energy. Too easily we can fall out of balance by expending the maxi-mum of our quality time and energy in ministry--or on some-thing else--and simply neglect community or prayer. While that might never degenerate into complete negligence; we may grad-ually adopt a very minimalist approach to community. Then, from time to time, we may feel shocked that those with whom we live every day have changed or rearranged this or that without our having been consulted. Conveniendy we might forget to ask our-selves if we were sufficiently present, available, and interested when those decisions were being formulated and then imple-mented. Community life can be joyful and it can be painful; at times it can be the greatest of blessings and at times the heaviest of burdens. But never has there been a guarantee, that it would be easy. As long as we are human, working to live closely with other people, appropriateness and balance in approaching our commu-nity life will continue to be significantchallenges. "Pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar--and God what belongs to God." We may not always make that payment perfectly, but we are responsible for making the effort 'to live community with the appropriateness and balance which can facilitate the love and unity we seek. Though other things must also be included, these are principal ingredients that determine the quality of life and health within a community. Review for Religious Quality of Community: Healthy or Dysfunctional? Very little, if anything, about community is theory.It is work to live with one another. But through our commitment it is meant to be a work of the heart. The alternative is that members care lit-tle about one another and about the space in which they live. Gradually each individual b~comes the center of a personal uni-verse which has minimal contact and communication with the other personal universes in the vicinity. Then all the theories about community and loving one another constitute little more than fine words carried on hot air. , Community life, then, can be healthy or dysfunctional. These present thoughts will focus on some characteristics of a healthy community and on some earmarks of a dysfunctional community. The following sets of contrasting characteristics represent spec-trums present in all communities. They are presented here only as a stimulant for further reflection and discussion vis-h-vis the specific experiences and contexts of actual local communities. The health or dysfunction of a community is evident from its location on the spectrum. Determining that location is not a random, arbi-trary exercise; it emerges from the members' individual and com-munal self-knowledge, hgnesty, self-examination, and willingness to adapt. Only then can the members decide what adjustments will facilitate living more effectively as a healthy community. Community or Computer? Communication, sharing and processing information, has a major influence on the health or dysfunction of a community. Healthy choices and decisions are based on sufficient and appro-priate, information and clear communication. This assumes gen-uine listening, not simply hearing. Attentive listening enables us to analyze and respond to. someone's words with understanding and love. , , The alternative is not :merely a failure to listen, though that will be part of it. Much more, the alternative strips the entire interchange--the information sharing and the personal decision making--of any affective, human quality. We may react mechan-ically to what we barely hear, quickly making preliminary and sometimes permanent judgments. As individuals and as a com-munity, we may focus,only on facts, with little regard for how all this decision or this expressed opinion will affect the people involved. Then we are no longer a community, but a computer. November-Decentber 1997 Whether the members are a "community or a computer depends upon how they share and deal with information among themselves, how they communicate with one another. A healthy community remains focused on people; it puts information at the service of people. A dysfunctional community operates much like a computer, focusing on the precision and,.processing 6f infor-mation; it tends to view people as servants of that information. A healthy community strives always to choose and decide wi.th understanding and love. By contrast, a dysfunctional community may be efficient, but is not likely to be person oriented. What needs to be done gets done, but with little regard for the vari-ables of human personality, for people's preferences and per-spect. ives, for the rich nuances that the talents and experience of the individual members could provide. Efficiency may be an important value, but it is no guarantee against dysfunction; only love can prevent that. The quality of communication among community members colors the atmosphere, the climate, the spirit, of their residence, marking it as either a home or a hohsing facility: In turn, that atmosphere affects the quality of relationships among 'the mem-bers and thus the witness,they present to'the world around them through their presence and ministry. Assessing the quality of com-munication within a community is among the mos~t effective and direct means of improving the overall health of that community. Community or Condominium? When the members actively establish and actually engage in their communal lifel the community's ;health benefits d.ireetly. Several elements are involved: first, common call and mission. The healthy commianity understands its call and articulates its mission. This becomes a source ofenergy and provides meaning and direction, with far-reaching implications for every dimension of religious life, from personal and communal lifestyles, to voca-tion promotion, to decisions concerning ministries and the use of financial resources. By contrast, a dysfunctional community drifts without a clear sense of where it is going or how it wants to present itself to the world around it. As a result, irreconcilably wide gaps develop among the lifestyles and philosophies of the various members and local communities and jeopardize the very fibers holding the com-munity together. Efforts to identify and maintain any common Revie~v for Religious call and mission are not a priority among the members of a dys-functional community. A second element of community health is mutual respect. Members have a certain maturity and respect one another's per-sons, possessions, and perspectives. This is not to imply that there will be constant and. consistent agreement; that is not realistic. Respect has more to do with recogniz-ing, accepting, and even honoring the differences among the members than with arriving at some superficial level of agreement. By contrast, a dysfunctional commu-nity has replaced respect with recipe. Its members work hard to redesign one another according to some image or stan-dard' they hold which may have nothing to .do with the ideals put before them by the life and example of the founder, or the constitutions, or the experience and capabilities of the members. Redesigning one another consumes much time and energy that should be directed elsewhere., ~ Third--this expands the preceding point--a healthy community celebrates " the 'members' giftedness. Rejoicing in one~ another's gifts is a concrete expression of respect. This assumes that we have made the effort to know one another's gifts; further, this effort involves sharing and communicating with one another. The challenge here is to go beyond knowledge toward: affirmation and even promotion of one another's gifts. This is possible only if we are secure and comfortable with ourselves, with our own individual gifts and goodness. By contrast, the members of a dysfunctional community tear down one another, not so much through specific hatred or dislike, but because of personal insecurity, being uncomfortable with one~ self. Jealousy and envy emerge from .low self-esteem and superfi-cial self-knowledge. If we feel and come to believe that Our gifts or talents are insufficient and inadequate, we may be tempted to build up ourselves by tearing down others. This may be quite subtle: a roll of the eyes, .a nod of the head, a sigh that commu-nicates "There he/she goes again!" In time the only comfort zone The quality o.f communication among community members colors the atmosphere, the climate, the spirit, of their residence, marking,it as either a home or a housing facility. Nov~nber-December 1997 Giallanza ." Communi~--Healtb~ or D~Cunctional? we may experience is when we maintain our distance from one another. We are polite, but politic: never disturbing or unsettling one another, but also never challenging and ultimately, never really knowing and loving one another. Fourth, a healthy community does, of course, provide and allow space--physical, psychological, and spiritual--for the mem-bers, as individuals and as a community, to be alone and silent, to pray, think, reflect, and relate to God. Maintaining and respect-ing such space requires a level of maturity and comfort that does not equate community with constant togetherness nor reduce it to comfortable superficiality. By contrast, a dysfunctional community sacrifices environ-ment and atmosphere to organization and structure. Though everyone has space, the community does not seem to be alive. There is no sense of an appropriate ambiance, a balance between the private and public forums of the members. Privacy tends to degenerate into secrecy, and public times together become safely and securely sociable. Shared prayer and significant interaction among the members are minimized or routinized to assure the completion of requirements without the responsibilities of com-mitment. Fifth, a certain spirit characterizes a healthy community. The atmosphere, the spirit, of a healthy community encourages the members to feel at home with one another, with the physical space, and with the rhythm of life. This spirit speaks more loudly to prospective members and occasional guests than any other aspect of the community's life. If our guests do not perceive that we .feel at home in this space and with this rhythm of life, then they are not likely to feel at home either. The questions confronting us are direct: Do we feel at home here? Is this an atmosphere which encourages~us to contribute, to be open, to trust? If not, why?- By contrast, a dysfunctional community has a climate from which members try to escape in one way or another. This is most clearly observable when the balance between presence and absence collapses. Personal activities of the demands of ministry are allowed to expand and overflow so that it becomes difficult if not impossible to be present for the community meetings, common meals and prayer, and other gatherings and celebrations as well. Away from the community, members feel more alive, and they feel a heaviness when it is time to return. They find it emotion-ally and spiritually draining to live in this community setting. Review for Religious Sixth, efforts to preserve unity indicate a healthy community. Recognizing the work and the sacrifice involved, the members enter willingly into one another's lives through appropriate self-revelation and compassionate listening. And they willingly make the time for that work and sacrifice. By contrast, a dysfunctional community no longer invests time and energy in the quality of its life. Its members may be quite civil and sociable, but they do not form significant affec-tive and spiritual bonds with one another. Their residing together is merely a coin-cidence of time and space rather than a reflection of a deeper commitment to one another. Given the importance of these six characteristics of a healthy community, when dysfunctional cl~aracteristics are dominant, we no longer have a commu-nity but a condominium. Everything appears to be in order, well organized, running smoothly, and comfortably .appointed--but the place is merely a habi-tation, not a home. Everyone is self-con-tained. People pass one another and exchange all the acceptable courtesies and If our guests do not perceive that we feel at home in this space and with this rhythm of life, then they are not likely to feel atohome either. appropriate pleasantries, but maneuver away from any deeper sharing. Obviously, a dysfunctional community can neither attract nor nurture healthy vocations. Those who desire to live in this way could easily find what they want in a well-managed and efficiendy operated condominium. Community or Cold Storage? Life in community necessitates some personal and communal qualities. Though any list is somewhat arbitrary, I would suggest that members of any healthy communit~ have some basic quali-fies that facilitate and sustain their relationships with one another. In their personal qualities, the individual members of a healthy community will have a rich diversity. These qualities, moreover, will vary from community to community. They will, however, include mutual affection and affirmation, willingness to apolo-gize and to forgive, fostering friendships, generosity, compassion, and joy. All these and others communicate a distinctively posi- Novetnber-Dece'mber 1997 Giallanza ¯ Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? tive response to two simple questions: Am I / Are we happy in this way of life? Would others perceive that we are happy and enthusiastic as they observe our everyday life? This is not to deny the human reality of the striving of us all, with various ups and downs in community life, prayer, ministry, the vowed life, and personal relationships. Admittedly, these qualities may not always be fully evident in us, but it ig essential that we have a commitment and a willingness to make constant efforts to develop them. By contrast, a dysfunctional community seems only to exist, to survive. It does not give the impression of flourishing with all the warmth and beauty of human relationships. It appears to be merely a group of people occupying the same space together, but never encountering one another on a deeper level that calls them to life. A dysfunctional community does not and cannot commu-nicate that the members are truly happy to be living and carrying out their everyday tasks and responsibilities. Communal qualities do not differ significantly from the per-sonal qualities necessary for healthy community. In fact, they reflect the interaction of those personal qualities among the mem-bers. The health of that interaction is especially evident when community members genuinely enjoy one another's company and are generously hospitable to others. They plan for time together on a regular basis, and they safeguard that time as a priority. VChat they do during that time together is not as important as their tak-ing the time to be present and attentive to one another. That attentiveness will overflow so tha.t guests feel welcome to activi-ties of the members' common life. By contrast, the members of a dysfunctional community find time together to be a chore, and so they reduce it to a minimum, either by unchallenged design or through the deterioration of relationships. It would not be uncommon to find much loneli, ness in these situations, loneliness that is compensated for by hav-ing all or most of one's primary friendships outside the local community. In a healthy context, loneliness can teach us and chal-lenge us to deepen .our relationship with the Lord and sharpen our compassion for and sensitivity to the loneliness of others. In a dysfunctional community, however, loneliness takes a very dif-ferent direction: it tends to breed discouragement and depres-sion which lead to compensatory behaviors. Vv'hen a group gives little or no evidence of these personal and communal qualities, they have cold storage, not community. Review for Religious They live together, but only as if in suspended animation, with-out those human qualities and interactions that bring life and happiness and growth to a community. Even if the members of a local community are not aware of this and do not acknowledge it, their guests will see it, and, most certainly, so will those who are considering a vocation to their way of life. Given the realities, of society,today, many of those considering a vocation to religious life come from environments that have little human warmth, little sense of family. It is. unlikely--if they truly want to live in a healthy way--that they would commit themselves to a life of cold storage in a dysfunctional community. Community or Committee? Community is a straightforward reality. If we do not take the time and energy to create it, if we do not take responsibility for it and take initiatives for it, then it will not really exist. Community is never the result of spontaneous generation, nor does it work by automation. The mem-bers of a healthy community do not abdi-cate their right and duty to make, maintain, and monitor the quality of their common life. They accept the idea that reflection together, sharing, and bonded-ness are key elements in the health of community life. By contrast, a dysfunctional commu-nity seems to drift as the members wait for someone to do something, to take responsibility for moving the community forward. On occasion, some issue or sit-uation becomes a crisis before the members mobilize enough to respond reasonably. For instance, the demands o.f ministry may have been allowed to control the scheduling of regular times together for reflection and sharing, or some members' manipu-lative behaviors may have been left unchallenged for so long that the community now manifests a growing collective passivity. The challenge here is to decide if people's lives together will be a community or a committee. "Committe~" here means a tem-porary group formed for a particular purpose. Its members address an issue or perform a task and then they disperse. Maintaining relationships is not a committee's function; in fact, that could Community is never the result of spontaneous generation, nor does it work by automation. Noventber-Dece~nber'1997 Giallanza ¯ Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? hinder its efficiency and effectiveness. In the case of a community, however, failure to maintain relationships compromises its capac-ity for being a prophetic presence and witness in and for our world. Community or Convenience? There is a genuine asceticism involved in building and sus-taining a healthy community life. This asceticism has some com-ponents. First, the qualities of love and unity in a community must be personal and individual before they can exist commu-nally. If as individuals we take personal responsibility to foster these qualities by helpful activity, then the group we belong to will do so too. In a dysfunctional community there is a wide gap between talk about responsibility and the reality of what is actually done. Everyone may say "we" do such-and-such, but, in reality, only a few take any initiative or action in response to the situation or issue at hand. Second, within a healthy community, care and concern are given generously and appropriately. Generously, because they are directed to each individual within the community. Appropriately, because they are adapted to the particular situations, personalities, and needs of the individual members. The sensitivity and aware-ness at work here are mutual, respectful, and inclusive. Third, individual, active participation is essential to healthy community life. If individuals do not participate in community meetings or contribute to common decisions, they get in the way of healthy community life. Really, there is not much middle ground in this regard. Silence and passivity are not automatically harmless to the quality of community life, Members of a dysfunctional community are passive partici-pants. Every dimension of their consecrated life--prayer, daily interactions, conversation at meals, attentiveness to guests-- reflects a general lack of energy and interest. The members put their energy and interest outside the community. Two means for facilitating this asceticism are personal accountability and effective conflict resolution. Calling one another to accountability is never easy to do, but it does mark the care and concern, the participation and love, of a healthy community. In a dysfunctional community, life together is lived at Review for Religious the lowest common denominator. Community members do not challenge one another, either because of fear or because no one wants to be challenged. Then the whole community will be only as strong as the weakest member; it will make progress only at the pace of the slowest one. Effective conflict resolution is indispensable. A community with absolutely no conflict is not perfect, it is dead!_How con-flict is dealt with in community can weave the members together into a magnificent tapestry of healing and love, or it can tear them into so many scattered pieces of cloth with no common threads. Often a small event or issue, left unaddressed, becomes infected over time, changing a community from health to dys-function, from bondedness to brokenness. If we are unwilling to practice the components of this asceti-cism and use the means that help us do so, we are no longer speak-ing of community, but of convenience. The dysfunctional community protects and promotes and projects a life of conve-nience. Therefore, whatever is inconvenient--whether it is related to prayer or practicalities of living together or personal relation-ships-- never reaches the level of consideration as a community priority. Convenience can assure that no one is upset, but it also guarantees that people will grow in only minimal ways. The Choice before Us The quality of our community is not a onetime choice; we must choose to live in love with one another day in, day out. If we do not make that choice daily and affirm it by our actions daily, we begin to live something else. Eventually our life together becomes ~omething else: a computer, a condominium, cold stor-age, a committee, or a convenience. We become something, but not community. We give witness to something, but not to unity and love. The choice is ours. We know well the words of Deuteronomy 30:19 calling us to "choose life." Sirach, too, .expresses bluntly the choice before us: If you choose, you can keep the commandments, and to act faithfully is a matter of your own choice. God has placed before you fire and water: stretch out your hand for whichever you choose. Before you are life and death, and whichever you choose will be given to you. (15:15-17) November-December 1997 Giallanza ¯ Community--Healthy or Dysfunctional? Three questions can assist us in reflecting on our individual and communal response to that life-or-death choice which is ever before us. First, what brings us together? VChy are we here? Is it our faith in Jesus and our desire to live that faith through this religious community and its mission? Or is this life simply a way to do a ministry--teaching or nursing or social service or pas-toral work or whatever? Admittedly, our faith in Jesus and the work we do are not mutually exclusive; but the question here con-cerns the foundation of our life's identity and meaning. Second, what keeps us together? Is it our love for one another and our efforts to support one another in living the way of love? Or is it that we have no alternatives and have become comfort-able? Or are we afraid to consider any alternatives? Having no alternatives and being unwilling to consider other options are not good indications that we have made a healthy and mature choice of what we are doing. Third, what flows from our being together? Is it the prophetic witness of our faith in Jesus and our love for one another? Or is it: our accomplishments? The compliment paid to the early Christians was "See how they love one another!" not "See how much they get done!!~ Healthy community is built and sustained by faith and love and witness. Dysfunctional community is concerned only with the work to be done, the status quo, and the results of what is done. Only a healthy community can project Christian life and human warmth and prophetic witness. These thoughts will close with the Gospel te~t which opened them: "Very well, pay Caesar what belongs to Caesar--and God what belongs to God" (Mt 22:21). Because he is referring to a Roman coin, Jesus speaks in terms of payment. His words remind us that healthy community costs something--we will have to pay. A healthy community costs each of us individually because we must constantly give of ourselves,° thus making our commitment to one another real in our attitudes and our actions. COmmunity costs us collectively because we must commit ourselves to make our life together a witness of love and peace and unity. Together we must call one another to this commitment. Dysfunctional com-munity is free of charge. Healthy community costs something. Individually and collectively, we must determine our willingness to make the necessary payment. Review for Religious EAGAN HUNTER The Elderly among Us Tue, we always have had elderly religious among us. But ~ two factors have changed the emphasis. First~ everyone is living longer, in the secular world and in the religious life as well. In 1900 only four percent of the total general population was over the age of 65--one in every twenty-five. By the year 2000 it is projected that as much as thirteen percent of the total :general population will be over 65. Life expectancy has been extended. It is projected that those arriving at age 65 today can expect to live approximately 16.3 years beyond that age. Second, the median age of religious communities is getting older, changing the dimen-sions of the concern. These two factors have made aging in reli-gious communities a more visible, more widely known concern. The problems faced by elderly religious are not necessarily a matter of increasingly poor health. Even though more vulnerable to ill health than in their earlier years, many continue to live healthy lives into very advanced years and some almost until death. Growing old is physiologically and psychologically inevitable, but these changes vary from individual to individual, with no pre-dictable'pattern emerging. Physiologically, advancing years bring problems of lessened mobility, gradual diminishment of the senses (especially sight and hearing), weakened ability to think and remember, Increasingly, heart problems and strokes occur, bones weaken, and arthritic and other impairments increase. Most older religious seem able to adjust more rapidly to various changes in their physiological world than in their psychological one. Eagan Hunter CSC is professor of education at St. Edward's University; 3001 South Congress Avenue; Austin, Texas 78704. Novonber-Deconber 1997 Hunter ¯ The Elderl~ amon~ Us Many times the decline of physical powers causes a brother or sister to remain somewhat isolated within his or her religious house, out of the "mainstream" and interacting less frequently with others. In the religious life we have been taught that one of the major facets of our existence is our contribution to the ministry and apostolate. Our religious formation tends to make us become self-sufficient. When the necessity asserts itself of cutting back on former activities once managed quite easily, older religious may experience feelings of depression, of uselessness. They may feel themselves a burden to others and no longer able to do their fair share. They seek ways and means through which to make some form of contribution to the common life and to the ministry. Sometimes there is a tendency for younger people to assume tasks which the elderly could do if provided sufficient extra time. In the interest of efficiency and effectiveness, we may become impatient and take the tasks out of their hands. Thus for the elderly the depressing feeling of 'not being able to contribute their part becomes magnified. Younger religious must seek ways to continue incorporating the elderly into the community's daily activities. The contemplation of retirement involves a psychological state, a sense of psychological withdrawal from the demands of one's ministry or occupation and the entry into a totally new ori-entation towards oneself and one's work. The taking of this step in our work-oriented society indeed is a milestone event and a very sensitive process. It marks a turning point in one's adult life, a shift from the middle years to old age. The extent to which retirement is viewed as a positive life transition depends much upon the attitudes of the individual. Some have more difficulty adjusting to retirement than others. Some are reluctant to retire, for their work seems to give their lives structure and meaning which is seen as becoming void in the future. What decisions need to be made when facing this stage of one's lifespan? What choices are available to the individual? Such a transitional adjustment incorporates a process of con-templation and evaluation of life's meaning and purpose, one's vocational call to service. It involves integrating the many expe-riences, meanings, and facts of one's life. It brings into focus one of the most incomprehensible concepts of all--one's own human. mortality. Such an adjustment involves acceptance of one's life with dignity and without too much regret for things not done, roads not followed. This reorientation phase of adjUstment should Review for Religious involve exploring new avenues and ways of being involved. The elderly who are well educated and who have enjoyed their work life will desire to continue some type of positive experiences related to that former occupation, but with lessened participa-tion and responsibilities. I had a great-aunt who was a nun. For some sixty years she was a successful teacher and administrator. With the limitations of advancing old age and the resultant physical losses, it became necessary for her to surrender one by one those things which she loved doing and did well. I can remember visiting her in their infirmary before her death. While we were talk-ing, a younger nursing nun entered the room with a tray containing a stack of small plastic cups used to give medication and a small bowl of soapy water. My aunt had insisted that she still could make a contribution, and this was her way. As we talked, she carefully and slowly washed and dried each cup. A contented smile of pleasure filled her face when the nursing nun returned an hour later to pick up the tray and complimented my great-aunt on the help she was to them. Even this litde bit meant much to my elderly aunt. She still was a con-tributing member of her religious community in her own little way. In my own religious community, we have a brother who cel-ebrated his hundredth birthday in 1996. For many years he was an active teacher, administrator, religious superior. In addition to the task assigned him through his ministry, he reached out in other ways to those around him. Before entering the religious life, he had been a member of the Souza band. It was this gift of music he shared with others over the years of his religious life through playing in various civic musical groups and symphonies. After a major stroke, one of his primary goals was to rehabilitate his muscular coordination to the degree that once again he could make joyful sounds to the Lord on his cello. Prayer, music, and his community became the center of his retirement. He continues to have many gifts to share with others, and share he does. Many of us feel the limitations that the ac6ve demands of our ministry place on our personal time. We sometimes feel there is not sufficient time to pray. But, for many of our retired religious, Younger religious must seek ways to continue incorporating the elderly into the community's daily activities. November-Decentber 1997 Hunter ¯ The Elderly among Us time is what they have most of--so we must plug into this spiri-tual "powerhouse." We must stress to the elderly religious that their contribution is to storm heaven in behalf of the concerns and problems being encountered by those in the active ministry. They can pray and are happy to assume this role of petitioner. Seen in the proper perspective, the lives of our older reli-gious need not be brooding or unhappy. We must give them our support and understanding, realizing the emotional tensions, phys-ical trauma, and disease which have become so much a part of their lives. We must remember that these are the community's elderly of today, and that the elderly of tomorrow will be us! How would we want to be treated? Younger religious must be careful not to participate in a form of age stratification within our religious communities. Such strat-ifying may be seen in the general society, with people being divided into classes and castes of various sorts. In such a society it becomes the norm administered to qualify or disqualify indi-viduals for desired roles and positions. Age is a significant variable in such social stratifications and becomes an operative factor in the qualification or disqualification process. Many of our elderly once held leadership roles in commu-nity undertakings. Through age discrimination such religious may feel that their expertise and experiences are no longer sought, that their role in community has been terminated. We must real-ize the symbolic value of their witness roles. It is their footprints that led our various religious communities to the roles we fill today. The elderly hold a vital position in the continuity of our religious life. Vatican Council II speaks, of the heritage of our various religious orders and congregations. We are asked to turn~ to the sources of Christian life, to the inspirations, conceptions, traditions, and ideals of our founders, as well as to those who fol- ¯ lowed later in our histories. We are asked to restore these to our religious life through modifications that meet contemporary reli-gious and social needs. The elderly among us are those who helped mold our particular institute into what it represents today. They,:are our living heritage, our legacy. Thus we must continue to reach out in order to -benefit from their years of knowledge and understanding of our particular mode of living the religious~ life. Their guidance and insights form a treasure which we cannot afford to ignore or'discredit. The elderly religious among us have seen their family mem- Review for Religious bers as well as their religious associates die. More and more of their generation is disappearing. Feeling the loss of these loved ones, they come face-to-face with their own mortality. The pos-sibility of one's own death becomes a factor of life. When young, we tend to believe we are indestructible--death is something asso-ciated with old age, and we are young. Time passes and the pos-sibility of one's death becomes a reality. Our religious beliefs provide us with a solid and positive creed. The Vatican Council stresses that we have been created by God and that, through the passion and death of Jesus, the terrors of bodily death have been conquered. If we live this life fully, we will be restored to whole-ness and a sharing in .the divine life which lies beyond all corruption. "Hence to every thoughtful man a solidly established faith provides the answer to his anxiety about what the future holds for him. At the same time faith gives him the power to be united in Christ with his loved ones who have already been snatched away by death. Faith arouses the hope that they have found true life with God" (Gaudium et spes, § 18). The resultant insights make it easier to develop one's own coping mechanisms for dealing with the future. Yet death remains a mystery. Our goal should be to assist the elderly to reflect upon their life's achievements done in the name of our Lord and to reflect upon the truths of Christianity related to the meaning of life and death. As Erikson points out, the last stage of the human life cycle encompasses old age and the retirement from the pro-ductive years of life. He sees this last stage as ego integrity.versus disgust and despair. The positive outcome of this last stage is an acceptance of one's self and one's life without bitterness or regret. It is a coming to terms with i:he approaching finality of one's life. It incorporates the avoidance of the negative feelings that one's life has been wasted, the avoidance of discontentment about one's limited accomplishments, the "road not taken," the task not done. Upon going blind, Milton feared that God would chide him for wasting talents and gifts that were now lying useless in him. An inner struggle went on until Milton reached the conclusion that, rather than rejecting the role given him by God, he simply needed to accept it. He phrased this acceptance exceedingly well The elderly among us are those who helped mold our particular institute into what it represents today. November-December 1997 Hunter ¯ The Elderly among Us when he said, "They also serve who only stand and wait." This quiet acceptance is difficult, for most people are action oriented. In the declining years of our lives, God is not asking anything heroic. Rather, he is asking for the quiet acceptance of one's infir-mities, one's physical disabilities and limitations, one's sufferings and pains. St. Paul expresses this acceptance when he says, "I find my joy in the suffering I endure for you. In my own flesh I fill up what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ for the sake of his body, the church" (Col 1:24). This submission and acceptance can be raised as one's gift to heaven. This is a task we all can do. These elderly religious have preceded us in the labors of our ministries. The burdens ~they carried frequendy were heavy. They did not trudge; they strode onward, for they were people of faith and hope. Approaching the end of their individual journeys, they need our support, our understanding, and our willingness to assist. This we must be willing to give them in their time of need. Simply this is all they are asking of us. To Mary, Journeying (A Visitation Song) "For all your ways~ are beautiful . " Be with us in the morning as with joyful hearts we travel tq carry Christ within us in silence and in song. Be with us as we labor on the hills and in the valleys with your care and with your mercy to all within our world. And when evening shadows lengthen, be our strength as still we journey to our God whose arms await us in the darkness of your peace. Louise Finn CND Review for Religious THOMAS MICHEL I Interreligious Dialogue and the Jesuit Mission "All good theology is autobiography" is a phrase often repeated today. If theology is a reflection on our faith and its implications, then the personal history of how God has acted and is acting in the life of each of us is the starting point for theological understanding. Moreover, as Jesuits, it has been a part of our communitarian spirituality from the beginning to "share our desires," that is, to speak with each other about the great things we want to do for the Lord. From this starting point I would like to share the spiritual desire that has dominated my relationship with God in prayer and work for the past quarter century. It is the desire for greater understanding and love between Christians and Muslims and my desire to make a contri-bution to that end. being missioned Transformation through Dialogue As a Jesuit and a priest,I am today a product of inter-religious dialogue. The way I live my Jesuit vocation is the result of twenty-five years of sharing life with Muslims, discovering the spiritual riches they possess, learning from them, being challenged by them, and at the same time Thomas Michel SJ, secretary of the Vatican Secretariat for Interreligious Dialogue, originally presented this article as a talk to young Jesuits in both Manila and Rome. He may be addressed at Curia Generalizia; Compagnia di Ges~a; C.P. 6139; 00195 Roma PRATI; Italy. ¯ November-December 1997 Micbd ¯ Interreligious Dialogue and the ~esuit Mission having occasion both to bear witness to my faith in what God has achieved for all people in the person of Jesus Christ and to explain to them my understanding of what it means to be a disciple of Christ. In more recent years my apostolate has taken me beyond encounter with Muslims and more and more into dialogue with Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, Taoists, and the followers of indigenous religions. When I reflect on what has been going on in my life, I see God forming me and transforming me by his grace, over and over, into a person different frbm what I "alas at the beginning of my interreligious journey. I am conscious that, when I teach courses on Islam or when I speak about Muslims, what I say and how I say it are different from the words of someone who has not had my experience of coming to know the Muslim community from the inside. When someone says something tha( pu~ts down or denigrates Islam unfairly, I ~nd myself reacting spontaneously and even emotionally, because they are talking about people that I know, people who have welcomed me into their lives, people whom I love and who have shown love to me. When Muslims are insulted, I feel insulted; when they are wronged, I feel wronged; when they undergo a tragedy, I suffer with them. When something good happens to them, I rejoice with them. When Muslims do wrong, to themselves or to others, I feel ashamed and beg God's forgiveness. When real dialogue occurs, no partner is left unchanged. When I see how much God has enriched my life and deepened my faith through my being in dialogue with others, it is a great source of hope and encouragement to me. For the same Holy Spirit who has been active in my own life is also at work in the lives of my friends of other faiths, using our encounters to touch them too and transform their lives. Most of the time we do not see evidence of this. We work in hope, which is, after all, trusting that God is invisibly active in this world. But God knows that we need encouragement from time to time and gives us "feedback" to keep our hopes alive. About four years ago I received such a .response from Said Khorramshahri, a pious Iranian Qur'an reciter. I had gone to Tehran to represent the Vatican at a national function and was staying about two weeks. Said, a graduate student in English, was assigned to interpret for me at the meetings and conferences that made up my schedule. Review for Religious During this time Said and I had many opportunities to talk about all sorts of things: life in Iran and in Rome, sports, politics, music, our own personal hopes and desires~ and, of course, what is deepest in our lives--our faiths. We shared deeply and hon-estly, and I could often feel the presence of the Lord when we were in conversation. When I returned to Rome, he wrote me a long letter saying that he never imagined that God would use his encounter with a Catholic priest as the instrument by which to pro-foundly change and deepen his outlook on life, faith, and his relations with others. I real-ized that I was not the only one who recog-nized that God was present and active in our encounters. This pious Muslim also saw that God was with us and that "our hearts were burning within us" from the movement of God's grace: I offer this experience merely as an exam-ple. Every Jesuit--every Christian--who has been involved in interreligious dialogue to any extent can tell comparable stories. If my experience has been mostly with Muslims, others could testify to some strikingly similar" experiences of God's activity gathered over the course of their years in dialogue with Buddhists or Hindus, Jews or Baha'is, or followers of the tradi-tional religions of Africans or Native Americans. The point is that, when we truly open ourselves to God in dialogue with another, the Holy Spirit takes over and guides the encounter. As the document "Our Mission and Interreligious Dialogue" puts it, "Open and sincere interreligious dialogue is our cooperation with God's ongoing dialogue with humanity (OMID §5). When we truly open ourselves to God in dialogue with another, the Holy Spirit takes over and guides the encounter. The Need for a Document The document of th~ 34th General Congregation "Our Mission and Interreligious Dialogue" is remarkable. For the first time in Jesuit history, the Society as a whole explored the inter-religious dimension of our Jesuit mission. Certainly, there were always some Jesuits who were involved in various forms of inter-religious dialogue. For a few it was their main apostolate, but for most it was something in which they were involved when they Novetnber-Dece~nber 1997 Michel ¯ Interreligious Dialogue and the ~esuit Mission had extra time, an apostolate they added on to their main duties. Dialogue was often considered a kind of luxury in the Society, of secondary importance to works such as schools, seminary and theological education, parishes. It frequently happened that stu-dents who were interested in carrying out studies on other reli-gions were assigned to other, "more important" fields of study like Scripture, theology, and philosophy. Most of us .involved in dialogue have had the experience of hearing a fellow Jesuit tell us we were wasting our time. "Why do you bother with Muslims?" I have been asked; "you will never convert them." Some comments have seemed to presume that interreligious dialogue and proclamation of the gospel are incom-patible activities, or that dialogue somehow undermined or com-promised the church's mission of evangelization. These questions show that the goal of dialogue was not well understood. It was confused with a type of soft sell, a way to insinuate ourselves into another religious community in order to make converts, or it was seen as a lack of commitment to bear witness to our Christian faith. Dialogue and PrOclamation One of the first issues that the general congregation had to take up was the way int.erreligious dialogue is related to the work of evangelization. It is in this context that the goal of dialogue can be understood. In the one evangelizing mission that Christ gave to his disciples, dialogue and proclamation of the gospel are two distinct aspects. Neither can replace the other. "They should not be confused, manipulated, or regarded as identical, as though they were interchangeable" (OMID, §7). Just as dialogue is not meant to replace proclamation of the gospel, so the duty to pro-claim the gospel must never preempt or negate the work of engag-ing in dialogue. The document describes dialogue as "a new way of being church," in which we discover the "deeper dimensions of our Christian faith and wide~ horizons of God's salvific presence in the world" and engage in activity that "grasps the deeper truth and meaning of the mystery of Christ in relation to the universal his-tory of God's self-revelation" (OMID, §7). What this dense the-ological statement means is that God is at work in the lives of all those who sincerely seek him and that sometimes God's grace Review for Religious produces anyplace in the world people of great holiness, gen-erosity, and love. God carries out this saving work among people of other faiths through the Holy Spirit, who makes use of the religious tradi-tions that people follow to lead them farther and farther along the path of true holiness. Sometimes a person's knowledge of God's saving work in Jesu's Christ precedes: the person is bap-tized and receives the fullness of the Holy Spirit. More often the Holy Spirit precedes people's knowledge of Christ. There is no contradiction here: it is the One God who is at work, whether in Christ'or in the Spirit. Quoting the bishops of Asia, the GC34 document says: "It is the same Spirit, who has been active in the incarnation, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus and in the church, who was active amongst all peoples before the incarnation and is active amongst the nations, religions, and peoples today." We see, then, that the deepest motivation for dialogue is to recognize the Spirit of God wherever the Spirit is at work in the world today and to praise God for the generous action of the Spirit. When we meet Muslims, Buddhists, Sikhs, and others who bear the fruits of the Holy Spirit in their lives, our reaction should be to praise and thank God. Time spent with sincere believers of other faiths is time spent in discovery of the many and varied fruitsalove, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, self-control--~at the Spirit continues to produce in the lives of other believers. Four Types of Dialogue and Their Goals "Interreligious dialogue," as the document points out, is not one thing, and the document outlines four basic types of dialogue. The goal of each type is not exactly the same. The dialogue of life is a dialogue on the plane of being, and the goal i~ living together in peace, mutually enriching each other by bearing witness to the values we stand for. The dialogue of action is on the plane of doing--working together to oppose whatever enslaves and degrades people, defending the weak, accompanying the poor in their struggle for justice. Its goal is to build together societies formed in accord with the will of God and in reverence for human dignity. An example of the dialogue of religious experience is what was going on during my time with Said in Iran. The goal is for those November-December 1997 Michel ¯ Interreligious Dialogue and the ~esuit Mission in such dialogue to open themselves fully .to God's movements (God's personal history in the life of each person) so that the Spirit can use them to touch and transform the persons. The dialogue of theological'exchange is to .clarify points of con-vergence and divergence, to overcome misunderstandings, half-truths, and distortions, and to come to a greater appreciation of each other's spiritual values (OMID, §4). It is not meant to arrive at a common formulation, to gloss over the differences between religions, or to find a common denominator on which we can all agree. The irreconcilable differences that we discover should nei-ther surprise nor discourage us, since we acknowledge from the start that each religion, is unique and offers its particular com-plex of doctrines and way of life. Dialogue in Patience and Hope If dialogue is about love (OMID, §6), then it is by examining the qualities of love that we learn the attitudes that must accom-pany our efforts at dialogue. In his great hymn on love in the First Letter to the Corinthians, St. Paul lists some of the qualities of love. It is. significant that the first quality on Paul's list is patience: "Love is patient, kind . oIt is important to spend time reflecting on the quality of patience, because lack of patience, in my opinion, is one of .the great causes of failure in dialogue. Patience includes more than not looking for quick results. I would rather say, "Do not look for results at all." In the Bhagavad Gita, Krishna tells Arjuna, "Do your duty conscientiously, and do not be concerned about suc-cess or failure?' We might paraphrase this advice by saying that the document "Our Mission and Interreligious Dialogue~' challenges Jesuits to "throw yourselves into this activity, without counting the cost or trying to measure the results." We engage in dialogue because it is our duty as disciples of Christ. As the OMID document puts it, dialogue is an integral element of our Jesuit mission in the world. We are people of hope, .one of the three greatest gifts that God has given us. We work in the hope that God will use our efforts in a way pleasing to God to advance the comingof God's reign in the world. Sometimes we hear people say, "What have you accomplished after all these years of dialogue? There are still religious tensions, ,conflicts, and wars." Review for Religious ~ The same could be said of other aspects of our mission. Those working for justice know that--despite years and years of tireless effort, sacrifices, even martyrdoms, despite vast amounts of time and energy spent--we are still confronted with countless forms of -injustice, oppression, and exploitation in the world. Recent years have even produced new forms. The occasional victories seem few in comparison with the rampant injustices still existing in almost every society. Does this mean that all those efforts at building more just societies have been in vain? No, we recognize ~that we have to keep on struggling in every age, culture, and nation to oppose injustice and defend the oppressed and marginalized. , It-is a similar case with interreligious dia-logue. At the same time that relations between the followers of various religions become better in one place, new conflicts and tensions break out elsewhere. Regions that have had long tra-ditions of people living together in peace sud-denly find themselves enmeshed in religious wars. On the other hand, reconciliation does occur where there has been conflict. People do learn to forgive and move beyond the past. Some peo-ples do find, often through much painful searching and with many setbacks, ways to live together with their neighbors of other faiths. We have all inherited two attitudes that make the effort at dialogue more difficult: One is the modern business ethic of quick and concrete results. In business, people feel they do not have time to wait. If they do not get the job done and done fast, a com-petitor will get an edge on them. People have graphs and tables .and prbjections to show how soon they can expect results. If they fail to achieve them in the time allotted, they go back to the draw-ing board to revise their policies. But it does not work that way with human relations. Things take time, and our efforts may be building a basis of fellowship whose benefits can be seen only in the future. The second attitude that makes dialogue difficult is an attitude of historical optimism that has dominated the philosophy of his-tory in this century. In this view, humankind, through education and technology, is continually evolving towards greater maturity, openness, and well-being. Obscurantism, ignorance, and violence are characteristics of primitive society and bound to be super- We engage in dialogue because it is ourduty as disciples of Christ. November-December 1997 Michel ¯ Interreli~ous Dialogue and the Jesuit Mission seded. In interreligious terms, many Catholics saw the period of the Second Vatican Council as a time when the old religious con-flicts would become a thing of the past. Dialogue would be the instrument of an inevitable result, putting an end to the misun-derstandings and divisions that kept us apart. Patience and Dialogue It seems to me that, if we Jesuits are going to make a contri-bution towards greater interreligious harmony, we must have a more realistic attitude. Dialogue will not solve all the religious conflicts in the world, just as our struggle for justice will never put an end to all forms of injustice and oppression. Rather, dialogue is something that must be carried on in every, society, in every age. Understanding and respect must be built anew in every gen-eration. The challenge will never come to an end, because sin is a part of who we are as humans and, where there is sin, there will be suspicion, hatred, and conflict. The need for patience is not only seen at the macro level of societies and nations. It is also the case in our personal dealings with people of other religions. We are all so full of suspicions, fears, and preconceptions. It takes much rime to get beyond these, to break down the natural resistance that we all bring to dialogue. If people seem unwilling, indifferent, or even hostile to invita-tions to dialogue, we should not be surprised. The burden of his-tory that we all bear is an obstacle that cannot be overcome quickly. We should also not be surprised if dialogue encounters seem superficial or seem to be characterized by an insincere politeness. This indicates that a level of trust at which we can relate hon-estly and deeply has not yet been built. That too takes time and much patient effort. We human beings are not willing to share what is deepest in our lives with people whom we are not yet ready to trust. Until we are convinced that the others will .treat our sharing with due respect, we tend to keep things at a nonthreat-ening, surface level. Only through the slow and laborious pro-cess of forming friendships and building trust do we arrive at the point where people can break through their latent distrust to begin to share frankly and honestly. But, if we Christians are motivated by Christ's love, we will find the determination and perseverance we need, for; as St.Paul says, "Love is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.?' Review for Religious I mention these negative factors, the effects of sin, because interreligious dialogue, although an exciting adventure of dis-covery of the manifold ways in which God lavishes his grace upon humankind, is also a path on which we encounter obstacles, set-backs, and frustrations and painful forms of self-discovery as well. When we are rebuffed, it is not easy to forgive. When we are misunderstood, it is not easy to go back again and again. When confronted with our own limitations and those of our commu-nity, we are tempted to give it all up and retreat to easier ways of life. However, as Jesuits we have a source of strength that we did not have even four years ago. We have the commitment of our whole Society--of our friends in the Lordmto engage in this aspect of our mission. We are helped to do so by our Ignatian vision that comes from our personal relationship to Jesus Christ. We are urged by the 34th General Congregation to develop a "culture 'of dialogue in our approach to believers of other reli-gions that should become a distinctive characteristic of our Society, sent into the whole world to labor for the greater glory of God and the help of human persons" (OMID, § 17), ' What a tremendous ideal to live for! What a challenge we have set for ourselves! ~Ours is the .generation, living immediately after and formed by General Congregation 34, that can make its document "Our Mission and Interreligious Dialogue" a vibrant part of our Jesuit mission in the world. Many foreign missionaries depend upon,people like you who donate subscriptions for them to Review for Religious. To start a subscription for a deserving missionary, please send $24 to: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Blvd. ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108 To pay by credit card, phone: 314-977-7363. November-December 1997 ANNETTE M. PELLETIER Misery Meets Mystery in Montenegro: A Survival Guide for North American Religious oes consecrated life possess the latent power to continue evangelizing North American culture? Current literature on the topic suggests that the "holy experiment" of founding a culture on evangelical values has turned ominously unholy. The pioneer barks that brought (he Pilgrims, Quakers, and Shakers are saidto be aimlessly adrift, having lost their orientation to the Holy. On the other hand, the heritage of integration evident in the cultures in the Southern Hemisphere, where Santa Fe (Holy Faith) was the principal colonizing feature, suggests the power of the sacred to perdure despite a history marked by gore as well as glory. Upon returning to the United States after a time of mission-ary experience in the cultures to the south, one senses how deep the ache for the Sacred is in North American culture. The pro'- gressive deconstruction of the core values and virtues that made the experiment holy suggests that our culture may have lost its. :heart.~ ',Although you express tous what is most precious to you, you do not realize how far we are from where you are," remarks Fred, Henri Nouwen's "world!y" friend for whom he composed his profound reflections, on what it means to be the beloved chil- ~ren of the Holy,G~od present in secular culture. "You speak from Annette M. Pelletier IHM c0nsid~rs this article, following upon her 'contributions to our Septembe~:-October 1993 and July-August 1994 issues, to be the conclusion of a trilogy on Mystery in relation to conse-crated life. She may be addressed at Convento Santa Rosa de Lima; E. Montenegro; Apartado 18-0703; Lima 11, Peru. Review for Religious a context and tradition that is alien to us . Many, many questions need: to be answered before we are able to be fully open to what you say about the life of the Beloved.''2 What is to be the role of us who are called, consecrated, and sent to proclaim such "belovedness" in this deconsecrated world; of us whose specific task it is to offer radical eschatological testi-mony of the coming of the kingdom? 3 Peter, a designated, author-itative witness of that kingdom (realized 'in the presence and per-son of Jesus), reminded his early Christian community "to always be ready to give a reason for their hope" (1 P 3:15). What, then, would be the reason for our hope that the consecrated life will con-tinue to exert a positive influence on a heart-less culture, one that seems no longer to have experience of the "Holy"? The "reason" for my hope. for not just the survival bat the flourishing of consecrated life in North America escapes the concrete directions suggested by the many and various scientific analyses of consecrated life that appear fis part of a search for a definitive future, The "reason" for my hope springs from what I and many oth-ers have "seen and heard" (1 Jn 1:3) of the Mystery of God made manifest in the misery of the absolute poverty in one of our sis-ter cultures in Latin America, Peru. Montenegro, a densely pop-ulated pueblojoven or asentamiento humano (shanty town) situated about forty-five minutes by bus from Lima, owes its misery to both Shining Path terrorism and the disastrous effects of "fujishock" economics on those who have fled from terrorism in the Peruvian sierra during the last decade. No sociological anal-ysis explains why the pueblo children still danced for the fiestas in their school, Fey Alegria 37, and the sisters and the teachers and families stuck together in hope despite the extreme poverty and the designation of the zone as "red" during the darkest days of the reign of terror.4 One "reason" for hope, then, can be the simple fact that this pueblo and its fragile institutions have survived, despite the unholy One "reason" for hope, then, can be the simple fact that this pueblo and its fragile institutions have survived, despite the unholy cultural influences of terrorism and hunger. November-December 1997 Pelletier ¯ Misery Meets Mystery in Montenegro cultural influences of terrorism and hunger. Here is hard:evi-dence, provided by real people who survived' to live, instead of living to merely survive. The madres solteras (single mothers) who raise children of partners who abandon them for another; the youth who are old before they have a chance to be young; the knot of little children who play on the step of the mission-house door--none of these Montenegro dnawim have access to analyt-ical research charting their survival or demise. They simply live their reality, struggling to survive, struggling to find. meaning. Without the luxury of an education, they meet Mystery in their misery on Mystery's 6wn terms. Even though most of them will never really better their lot in life according to North American standards, they seem not to have lost. the reason for their hope. Yes, large numbers may eventually resort or succumb to every vice that a culture of absolute poverty provokes. Yet there :are those who do survive with their dignity as human beings intaci:. Who are they? How are they able to survive? What do they have to say to the religious missioned to the first world, who also seek to survive, but in a culture whose very richness impoverishes the attractiveness, the beauty, the dignity, and the grace of a way of life in love with Life itself?. Could the observation ofMircea Eliade, the famed scholar of religious anthropology, be true: that the evo-lution of modern cultures has generated an atmosphere of intel-lectual elitism in which detachment from the patterns of traditional religion severs Western culture from its core values and belief systems? 5 So what recourse do persons consecrated to the Holy have if they are to survive the consequences of Western culture's demise? The Word had a special word for the religiously lettered and learned Who came by night to ask him questions about signs seen hinting the advent of a new world within the world. To the Nicodemus-like, Jesus counseled that the lettered and the elite turn and become like a child. Anyone privileged to see, hear, and touch the children who, despite the misery of their absolute poverty and the scourge of terrorism, sing and dance in the desert cannot help marveling at the mystery of their "unreasonable" rea-. son to hope. What do they, the "little ones," the ones immersed in the misery of absolute poverty, have to say about the mystery of their survival? Could it be that their link to traditional popu-lar religion provides them with the treasure which cultures to the north have lost: a reason for hope?6 , Review for Religious Who are these ragtag "children of the dust" gathered on the luxurious slab of cement gracing the mission-house front door? From early in the morning until late in the night, this mob of ragamuffins never seems to wonder about "survival," despite the dubious nature of their next meal. They do not have time to worry. They are obviously too busy creatively constructing their own livable-in-the-now reality. The ever plentiful stones and rocks are transformed in,their imagination to sports cars and trucks. Rags and bits of scrap paper adorn a gringa-faced "Barbie" in highest fashion. So actively engaged in living life to the hilt, these tawny tots are too busy having fun to be concerned about surviving. Sure, they are hungry and ill clad. By our standards they are woefully abused by family systems that claim "the more I beat you, the more I love you." But they are too resiliently cre-ative to let abuse or malnutrition get in the way of living. The ".proper7 things they deserve as fundamental rights--healthcare, education, food--hardly get a thought. One hesitates to say it, but, to almost every visitor, these kids on the step are definitely having fun. Their joy, laughter, unsuppressible desire to befriend anyone, especially foreigners visiting the mission house, betrays the secret entry of Mystery into their absolute misery. Their grasp on an unseen reason for their hope renders ridiculous the first-world worries about where God and religion and the church might fit in a deconstructed culture. "Multiphrenia" is one malaise the Montenegrinos never get. The inner' chaos caused by too much input from too many conflicting media sources promoting ever changing values is a postmodern misery they miss.7 Take, for example, ten-year-old Lorenzo, a victim of his father's abuse. Every so often Lorenzo is whacked in the face. with an iron pipe for not bringing in his share of the family keep. How could little Lorenzo, every visitor's fast friend, keep smiling, jest-ing, and joking despite the ugly scarson his ever dirty face? The Mystery of God peeks through his misery in his nonconcern for predictable "survival." That unerasable smile insists that God's Mystery is manifest even in this most undeserved misery. Just what is it that keeps that smile on his face--and so many others like his!--in this desert valley of so many, many tears? Does his smile betray a reason to hope that we cannot, yet, see? These stepkids also deal with the reality of too few resources and personnel to assure them of a viable future. Most children are without parents until late in the night, when Mom or Dad or November-December 1997 Pelletier ¯ Misery Meets Mystery in Montenegro live-in mate come

Issue 51.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 1992. ; Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY-FEBRUARY 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 1 Review fl)r Religious (ISSN 0034-630X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535 3048. Manuscripts, books fi)r reviexv, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious. 3601 l,indellBoulevard. St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the "Canonical Counsel" departmeut: Elizabeth McDonough ()P ¯ 5001 Eastcrn Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington, I).C. 20017. P()S'I'M~XSTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid a~ S~. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBS(~RIPTI()N RATES Single copy $5.00 includes surface mailing costs. ()he-year subscription $15.00 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28.00 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover fl~r subscription infl~rmation and mailing costs. ©1992 Revieu for Religious review fre° [gii ous Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor . Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer sJ Michael G. Harter sJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe David J. Hassel SJ Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden $SND Sefin Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JANUARY / FEBRUARY 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 1 contents 18 24 church and ministry Ecclesial Burnout: Old Demon, New Form Richard Sparks CSP suggests some remedies for overcoming a new strain of burnout which tends to afflict church ministers. Vincent Pallotti vs. Polarization Erik Riechers SAC shares some practical steps suggested by Vincent Pallotti for spiritual regeneration in a polarized church. The Ecumenical Kernel Dennis Billy CSSR explains how church unity involves a process of committed encounter between religious traditions whose very existence implies a relationship of concrete mutual dependence. 34 46 56 direction and discernment Elements and Dynamics of a Spiritual-Direction Practicum James Keegan SJ presents a successful way of putting together a spiritual-direction practicum and the personal and clinical issues involved. On Becoming a Discerning Person Charles Reutemann FSC describes in practical terms the meaning of spiritual direction, the person of the director, and the process of the direction session. Discernment and Decision Making Brian O'Leary SJ outlines elements for a pedagogy of discernment so necessary for our contemporary human and Christian situations. 2 Revie~ for Religious religious life 64 Making Sense of a Revolution Se~in Sammon FMS assesses the present state of religious life and sets an agenda for the process of renewal. 78 The Past Is Prologue Elizabeth McDonough OP identifies three interrelated phenomena which have significant influence on the direction of religious life. 98 An Experiment in Hope Mary Carty CND and MaryJo Leddy NDS report on a carefully planned intercongregational exploration in revitalizing religious life. 109 community and missien Internationality--At What Price? Janet Malone CND challenges any community which identifies itself as international to realize the concrete demands made on every aspect of their life together. 118 The Perils of Polarity Julia Upton RSM focuses upon the common roots from which both monastic and apostolic religious life take their growth. 134 Evangelizing Community William F. Hogan CSC suggests that religious who share faith in community are the best evangelizers. 140 4 144 149 Vocation as a Journey Brother Andrew shares a personal reflection on vocation as a crucifying walk in intimate union with Jesus. departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Clerical Institutes Book Reviews January-February 1992 3 prisms As you page through this issue, you cannot help but notice the new appearance of Review for Religious. The development of this new look involved the staff, the members of the advisory board, and the Jesuit design group called Studio J in a critical assessment of everything from the important areas of content and edi-torial policies to the nitpicking aspects of the letterspac-ing of our new typeface. Our entire effort was to launch into our second half century of publication by enhancing our traditionally fine content and presenting it in a way that is truly "reader friendly." When Review for Religious began to be published in 1942, its very title gave evidence of its intended audi-ence- women and men consecrated in a special lifeform in the Catholic Church commonly called religious life. Yet even the first editors encouraged diocesan priests to use the journal articles as helps both for growing in their spir-ituality and ministry and for appreciating the various reli-gious- life traditions. Early on, too, lay women and men, especially those identified with third-order and sodality movements, were regular subscribers. With the burgeoning of lay ministries after Vatican II, there have been a growing number of lay readers, inter-ested particularly in developing their prayer life, under-standing their own roles as ministers of Christ, and even searching for better community models for family and parish, inspired by the internal efforts of religious com-munities. Our journal's contributors, too, illustrate the wide range of our readership--women, men, lay, religious, priests, even a bishop now and then. The question arose: Should the very name Review for Religious be changed to reflect its wider audience? 4 Review for Religious After much discussion we agreed that the religious-life empha-sis retains its central place because it focuses so well the rich spir-ituality traditions within the church. A secondary title, now evident on our cover, clearly highlights this aspect. But the pur-pose of Review for Religious remains just as current and necessary after fifty years: a forum for shared reflection on the lived expe-rience of all who find that the church's rich heritages of spiritu-ality- Augustinian, Benedictine, Dominican, Carmelite, Ignatian, Franciscan, Salesian, and many others--support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. For readers coming from whatever spiritual tradition, the articles in the journal are meant to be infor-mative, practical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. The journal's look, then, is meant to reinforce its purpose. While you may miss the easily scanned backcover table of con-tents, we hope that you will find our Contents pages more infor-mative by their brief indication of an article's theme and by the grouping of various articles under sectional titles. The new sec-tional titles will keep changing from issue to issue, depending on the relationships among articles published in any one issue. Both the variety of sections and the variety of articles within a section are indicative of the vision and purpose of Review for Religious. In its 1942 beginnings this journal provided a com-munication forum which was almost nonexistent among various traditions represented by religious orders. Still today the mix of articles contributes to the ongoing understandings, critiques, and movements in our religious-life heritages so that we find new insight, expand our horizons, and collaborate more effectively for the good of our church life. I find a growing tendency among church people in the United States to read only the articles or books which reinforce their own views and to ignore or condemn out of hand an alternative or opposing approach. As an editor I find myself seldom (if ever) in total agreement with any one article--even in this iournal. For the healthiness of our life in Christ, we all need to appreciate and evaluate differences, changes, and developments in and among the various traditions which, contribute to the present makeup of the church. The articles in this iournal are like prisms which sub-tly nuance light into colorful and unexpected patterns. For exam-ple, some articles present contemporary ways of understanding our traditions; others probe new community forms, prayer prac- January-February 1992 5 Prisms tices, and models of ministering. You as reader may be inspired, surprised, or even annoyed by a particular theme or approach. For me the image of a prism suggests an application of the ministerial wisdom of St. Ignatius Loyola written at a time of church his-tory rife with excommunications and denunciations. Ignatius says: it should be presupposed that every good Christian ought to be more eager to put a good interpretation on a neighbor's statement than to condemn it. Further, if one cannot inter-pret it favorably, one should ask how the other means it. If that meaning is wrong, one should correct the person with love; and if this is not enough, one should search out every appropriate means through which, by understanding the statement in a good way, it may be saved. Sp Ex 22 (Ganss's translation) As the task of dialogue in the church takes on even greater importance, we want Review for Religious to remain a valued resource for people serious about their spiritual growth, for those involved in ministries, for members of religious congregations, and for spiritual directors and those seeking guidance. Review for Religious is privileged to play its role in that dialogue now as it has since its beginnings. Do let us know whether you find our newly designed journal "reader friendly." David L. Fleming sJ 6 Review for Relig4ous RICHARD C. SPARKS Ecclesial Burnout Old Demon, New Form cal, emotional, intellectual, social, and even spiritual energy--is reappearing among pastoral team members with alarming frequency. In those heady years immedi-ately following Vatican II, there appeared a strain of this self-induced dysfunction among zealous priests, sisters, brothers, and lay ministers who too literally tried to fol-low Paul's injunction "to be all things to all people." In their well-intentioned attempts to "be there" for the old and the young, the churched and the unchurched, parish-ioners and strangers alike, many in pastoral ministry "burned out." But it is not this "workaholic burnout''1 that I intend to discuss--though it still exists. I intend to discuss what I call ecclesial burnout. Most of us professed,, ordained, or hired in the last ten to fifteen years were schooled in a revised, more col-laborative model of ministry. This model is marked by job descriptions, staff meetings, attempts at collegial dia-logue, claiming one's personal needs and space, in short, Richard C. Sparks CSP is an editor at Paulist Press. He holds a doctorate in moral theology from Catholic University, with a specialty in biomedical ethics. He serves as an ethics consultant for several healthcare facilities and regularly offers professional and pastoral workshops on bioethics, sexuality, and moral deci-sion making. His address: Mount Paul Novitiate; Ridge Road; Oak Ridge, New Jersey 07438. church and ministry January-February 1992 7 a greater appreciation for the need of each minister to set limits and to nurture both professional and personal relationships. Ideally this leads to happier, healthier pastoral ministers, men and women who have found a better balance of work, play, prayer, exercise, rest, good nutrition habits, and so on. However, as most practitioners will admit, the team model in its all-too-human incarnations is no panacea. The lived experience of rule by com-mittee and collegial discernment does not always match the ideal. If the workshops I have given in various pastoral settings around the country are any indication, there is a new strain of ministerial burnout. It began in the early 1980s and seems to be immune to the simple correctives of prioritizing one's schedule, keeping in touch with friends, and religiously taking one's day off. The power of this ecclesial burnout to corrupt and to debil-itate formerly effective pastoral ministers (lay, clergy, and reli-gious alike) comes not from an overzealous commitment to work nor from an inflated sense of Lone Ranger ministry. Rather, I think, it is rooted in an erroneous, or at least inadequate, sense of church (that is, one's assumed ecclesiology). For the last five years I have been battling a mild-to-moderate case of it myself and am now slowly on the road to recovery. I feel it, I see it, others confide it, newcomers discern it, col-leagues transfer or leave church ministry altogether because of it--ecclesial burnout. No doubt much of it parallels other forms of psychological burnout. It certainly seems to fall within psy-chiatrist Herbert Freudenberger's classic definition: % state of fatigue or frustration brought about by devotion to a cause, way of life, or relationship that failed to produce the expected reward.''2 The symptoms are the same--long-term sullenness, a cynical edge, an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion, dissipated energy, forgetfulness, and depression (clinical or the everyday variety). People who suffer from ecclesial burnout frequently cite the cases of Charles Curran and Archbishop Hunthausen or the recent Vatican treatment of Rembert Weakland as precipitating their low mood. The suppression of certain catechisms, the removal of longstanding imprimaturs from books, the influence of CUF (Catholics United for the Faith) in Vatican curial circles, and the decidedly juridical tone of some CDF (Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith) documents contribute to a certain fear that "the party's over." For some, particular diocesan, chancery, or intracommunity ev~counters contribute to a general feeling of 8 Review for Religious malaise. It might sound like a simple case of the liberals' lament, revisionist Catholics being disheartened by what some see as a mid-course conservative correction following a quarter century of Vatican II experimentation.3 But many who placed great hopes in the church after Vatican II increasingly feel that aggiornamento (renewal) may be short-lived, that this era of church renewal may be the aberration and not the norm, and that we may soon be back to church history's "business as usual"--politics, legalism, inquisitions, and all. Those who suffer workaholic burnout are depressed that they personally did not measure up, could not be all things to all people, fell short of some impossible agapeic ideal. By contrast, among those who suffer ecclesial burnout, there is less a question of antipathy about personal imperfections and more of a sense of dis-illusionment with the church and its abil-ity to really be "the kingdom come." I hear story after story of frustration, that no-win Ecclesial burnout does not come from an overzealous commitment to work rlor from an inflated sense of Lone Ranger ministry. feeling of being the person caught in the middle--between the Vatican and people in the pew, between liberals and conserva-tives, between pro-school and pro-CCD proponents, between the "townies" and the university students, between right-to-lifers and everybody else, between the diocese (or one's generalate) and the parish, between Catholics and the wider society, between a pas-tor and other team or council members. Many feel drained, impo-tent, frustrated in their attempts to mediate, to get the church's act together, whether locally or in some larger arena of the church universal. While there are many contributing factors to this experience, I am convinced that one help toward navigating the shoals suc-cessfully is for each of us to reexamine our own ecclesial presup-positions and expectations. The insights that follow may be self-evident to some, but for me they have been eye-openers, a tremendous help on the road to recovery and reinvigoration. Much literature has been written expounding the theory that the dominant image of church in the decades, even centuries, pre-ceding Vatican II was the institutional model. In his often quoted January-February 1992 9 ~÷~s ¯ Ecclesial Burnout Models of the Church, Avery Dulles noted in 1974 that, while all five models--hierarchical institution, mystical communion, sacrament of Christ, herald of God's word, and servant of secular society-- coexist in the church, during any given era one or another tends to dominate.4 In the two major Vatican II documents on the church, as well as in the Final Report of the Synod of 1985, one can find all five models vying for central place,s Despite several decades of the-ologizing and deferential homiletic bows to the notions of church as people of God, mystical body, sacrament of Christ's ongoing presence, and herald of Gospel justice, it is my contention that our pastoral efforts after Vatican II expressed, for the most part, the same model fostered earlier, namely, the institutional model. Sure, we were going to do it better: more effective liturgy in the ver-nacular; more participatory parish, diocesan, and community gov-ernance; more developmental, story-laden religious education; more process-oriented evangelization (RCIA); more experiential approaches to reconciliation; and more social-justice-oriented ecumenism. But we were still about the task of running an insti-tution, making our little corner of the vineyard the best-struc-tured parish, Newman Center, diocesan office, or apostolate around. It seems to me that many of us made a subtle shift or trans-ference. After some initial flirtations with personal workaholism and its consequent form of burnout, we no longer expected our-selves to be supermen or superwomen, serving selflessly twenty-four hours a day, in season and out. But at the same time we did not reject the drive for perfectionism altogether. Rather, we trans-ferred it to our rejuvenated image of the church, expecting our post-Vatican II ecclesial structures to be or to become what we individually could not achieve. The church would or should become wholly Spirit-filled, renewed at all levels, from the Vatican curia, through the USCC, chancery, and intracommunity offices, right down to our own parish or center in Name-Your-City, USA (or Canada). If we all worked hard enough, whether as Lone Rangers or as collaborative partners, we could "pull this Vatican II thing off," making the Roman Catholic Church what some supposed it was intended to be, the kingdom of God incarnate on earth . . . as it is in heaven. "Oops," as one of my Catholic U. professors would have screamed, "you collapsed your eschaton." In such hopeful 10 Review for Religious expectation there seems to be no room for human sinfulness and finitude, too little room for well-intentioned visionaries, reform-ers, and sincere counterreformers to make mistakes. If we really can successfully create the reign of God on earth, then who needs redemption? We could cancel Christ's second coming. There would be no need for his break-through return at the end of time. In our newfound Camelot-like enthusiasm, I fear that we plotted a course destined to dis-appoint. Ask those priests, religious, and lay ministers who opted to leave. Ask those who had physical or emotional breakdowns. Ask those who are now recovering alcoholics, fooda-holics, adult children of alcoholics, or victims of other addictions and dysfunctions. Ask those who joined a religious order or diocese, only to be disillusioned when real life in community did not match vocation brochures or one's own idealistic expectations. Some of them are still searching for the diocesan, religious-order, or denominational "promised land." For the most part we seem to have faced the fact that none of us individually is Jesus Christ (and that even he faced his own doubts, fears, and temptations). By acknowledging that worka-holic perfectionism is wrong, some of us have conquered the demon of "works righteousness," allowing God's tender mercies to bathe us and to begin to heal our brokenness and wounds. Workaholic burnout seems to be waning, at least in the Catholic community.6 However, I do not think we have made great strides in grant-ing a similar benefit of the doubt and benevolent forgiveness to the church and its leaders (including ourselves) for not measuring up, for not ushering in the fullness of the kingdom of God. Hans Kiing, echoing the pioneering ecclesiology of Yves Congar, con-tinues to point out that the church is sinful as well as graced.7 Martin Luther, credited with coining the adage simuljustus etpec-cator, would hardly be surprised to hear that twentieth-century Roman Catholics are having trouble accepting that their church not only was, but is, and always will be sinful, in need of God's abiding assistance, patience, redemption, and frequent forgive-ness. If we really can successfully create the reign of God on earth, then who needs redemption ? January-February 1992 11 Sparks ¯ Ecclesia~Burnout Thus, the warning sign of ecclesial burnout is the sadness, bordering on depression, that has deeply affected many idealistic pastoral ministers upon their discovering that the church is not, and likely never will be, synonymous with the kingdom of God. But does not church teaching say that they are supposed to be one and the same, that the church (especially in its Roman Catholic incarnation) equals the kingdom of God? No, the bish-ops and theologians gathered at Vatican II rejected such a notion in an earlier draft for Lumen Gentium, in which the church in its fullest sense (that is, God's reign or kingdom) was to be equated with the Roman Catholic Church. In its place, the church's official magisters declared that the "church, established and ordained as a society in this world, sub-sists in the Catholic Church''8 (emphasis mine). Despite arguments to the contrary by some dissident conservatives, most ecclesiolo-gists take this to mean that, while the Roman Catholic Church manifests to some degree Christ's cosmic presence, it is not the sum and substance of church nor of the kingdom of God in their fullness. The visible church, at any point in its history, is never a spotless manifestation of the "mystical body," church in the ideal. Lumen Gentium goes on to propose that all Christians, the chil-dren of Israel, Islamic believers, other monotheists, as well as all who seek life's source and meaning with sincere hearts are some-how "related to the People of God," kin in some concentric sense in this family called church.9 The church then, in its most cosmic and echatological sense, is not synonymous with any denomination, though some churches--more than others, and in some historical eras more than others--better embody the call to be communion, sacra-ment, herald, servant, and institution. For those of us tempted to shrink the meaning of church to the institutional denomination or subset in which we have been professed, hired, or ordained, it is well to keep reminding ourselves that the kingdom to come, on earth and hereafter, is bigger. You might be tempted at this point to remark, "What you're saying is fine, but it doesn't apply to me. I already learned in ecclesiology class that the church is the imperfect pilgrim people of God and that it in some sense includes a wide variety of ecu-menically related brothers and sisters." My response is yes and no. I think most of us comprehend this broader ecclesial vision academically (in our heads) and even present it fairly effectively 12 Review for Religious in inquiry or RCIA programs. But I am not so convinced that we have let that broader vision of church, that benefit of the doubt about what can and cannot be accomplished in our lifetime, sink down into our souls, our intuitions, our feelings, our expectations about life as pastoral ministers in the real church of the 1980s and 1990s. I suggest that many of us could benefit from prayerful, per-sonal, and communal reflection on and attempts to incarnate a broader vision. The "kingdom of God" is not an institution, but a designation for any and all people of goodwill who are about God's business. Whether one views this in the language of Rahner's "Anonymous Christian" or in any of a number of more traditional categories (for example, mystical body, invincible ignorance), the community of believers, those who will share in the fullness of redemption, is not coterminous with card-carrying Roman Catholics or even avowed Christians more broadly considered.1° If I measure the coming of the kingdom with myopic vision, focused solely on institutional success or the extent to which my ministerial locus is perfectly fruitful and personally satisfying, I am destined to be disappointed--by my own impoverished "institu-tional" ecclesiology and by a graced but sinful church that always falls short of the ideal. In such a way, I think, many professional Catholic ministers (lay, religious, and clergy alike) are spinning their wheels, burning up psychic energy on form and parochial structures, not Gospel substance. Either we invest too much time and talent trying to create the perfect institutional program, or else we spend time bemoaning the fact that many of our best-laid parochial plans come to naught or go awry. In the process, frus-trations mount, leading to personal and ministerial dissatisfac-tion, depression, departures, and so on. Voile, ecclesial burnout, or maybe I should say burnout induced by unrealistic ecclesio-logical expectations. It seems to me that any proposal for recovery from this form of burnout entails an attitudinal shift. We can change our atti-tude in either of two ways. First, we can expand our definition of church in the light of Lumen Gentium, allowing that no denom-ination or institution can or will incarnate it fully. It takes a lot of The warning sign of ecclesial burnout is sadness, bordering on depression. January-February 1992 13 Sparks ¯ Ecclesial Burnout self-reminding to allow this ecclesiology to sink in, to become our true modus vivendi. We need to reconceive ourselves as min-isters not solely of the Vatican-based Roman Catholic denomi-nation, nor even of the Christian tradition explicitly professed, but of the elusive, ever evolving church of Pentecost, mindful that the fruit of our labor, though real, will be limited at best. Our whole identity as a church employee or minister ought not to be caught up in structural successes and programmatic gains. This broader view of church, if taken to heart, can free us to relish grace incarnate wherever we find it, being less obsessed with insti-tutional achievements and shortcomings. The second change of attitude, in some ways a semantic vari-ation on the first, involves constricting our definition of church, letting it be a referent for various institutional efforts to incarnate faithful and Christ-like living, while conceiving of our ministry more broadly, focused on the wider kingdom of God. Thus we see ourselves less as minions of the institutional church (though not denying our sacramental role and ecclesial responsibilities) and more as ministers or facilitators of the kingdom, God's reign in time and space in all its manifestations. As Patrick Brennan phrases it in his recent best-seller Re-Imagining the Parish: Is the church an end in itself?. No! In this more traditional view of church, the church as movement, as people in a sacred relational bond of faith, exists as servant and instru-ment of something larger, more important than itself--that is, the reign or kingdom of God.11 The kingdom comes in myriad ways, some explicitly religious, many only implicitly so. We can and do find God incarnate in Paschal Triduum liturgies as well as in rather routine daily Masses; in powerful sacramental moments as in exquisite sunsets or a deer crossing the road at some country retreat; in the warmth of old friends, comfortable clothes, and mellow music as well as in the discovery of new relationships and the unexplored terrain of new ideas; in the gathering of colleagues and friends for professions, ordinations, anniversaries, and even funerals; and in vacation times far away from community members and parish life. Wherever there is love, life, and hope (that is, resurrection) in the face of life's limits, including death, we who are Christian ministers should point and say, "There is God's kingdom at hand." When those life-giving moments are in church (liturgy, Scripture, religious education, a retreat weekend, social-justice ministry), 14 Review for Religious let us sing a full-throated alleluia. But when such moments are part of church in its more cosmic sense or beyond the church in a kingdom-coming sense (symphony orchestras, art, nature, Windham Hill albums, even in Leo Buscaglia tapes and some New Age con-cepts), there too we should point to God's incarnate grace and voice praise. Over a decade ago I heard Richard McBrien use the parable of the ten lepers (Lk 17:11-19) as a type for this broader concept of church vis-h-vis the kingdom of God. He noted that all ten lepers were made clean, that is, all ten were redeemed. All ten were made ready for the heavenly banquet. The tenth leper, the one who realized what had been done to and for him, returned to give thanks, to praise God, and to be a herald of this good news. That tenth leper, McBrien suggested, is the church in its institutional manifesta- The community of believers, those who will share in the fullness of redemption, is not coterminous with card-carrying Roman Catholics. tions. We avowed Christians realize God's mighty and merciful deeds. We give thanks (Eucharist) not only in our own name, but in behalf of all creation. We praise God not only for our own lot in life, but also for the blessings bestowed on all of creation and especially on the human family. We strive to live, to speak about, and to incarnate the good news of God's benevolent creation and offer of redemption in every time and place. But it is crucial to remember that the healing of the ten (that is, redemption of the whole) is not primarily dependent on our success. God's healing Spirit blows where it will. Christ's invitation, redemption, and healing touch are not limited by our personal or institutional efforts. In this motif, the kingdom of God is bigger than the church which participates in it and attempts, more and less suc-cessfully, to proclaim it. Whether one equates the kingdom of God with "the church" in its ideal form and uses the same word "church" for those graced but imperfect institutional efforts, or whether one conceives of the kingdom of God as a fuller reality and all institutional churches as more and less successful attempts to embody kingdom or Gospel values, the result seems to be the same. We approach our institutional church--with its papacy, curia, national conferences, January-February 1992 15 generalates, dioceses, parishes, centers, and committee struc-tures- with more realistic and modest expectations. Sin abounds, but grace abounds more. Successes mount up, but so do failures. We have peaks and valleys in our efforts to "do ministry," whether as rugged individuals or as team players. For those who are not intimately bound up with the institu-tional church, these reflections may seem self-evident. But for those of us so imbued with an institutional sense of church, pro-grammed by our own socioethnic heritages and an underlying, intuited, and almost infused Roman Catholic ethos, it may be lib-erating to be confronted by this challenge to broaden our hori-zons, to stretch either our image of church or our sense of ministry to be more kingdom-oriented, less ecclesially confined. As one minister phrased it, "only recently have I been able to proclaim honestly that I cannot save myself. My salvation [and the church's] is only in the gift of God's grace through Christ.''Jz Keep your chin up, your chest out, your personal and com-munal relationships nurtured, your prayer life deepened, and, for God's sake and your own, do not lose your sense of humor. Do not let worries and disappointments about church or parish or com-munity shortcomings dampen your hope. You are not perfect, we are not perfect, they are not perfect--and never will be. So lighten up. Take care of yourself physically, emotionally, intellectually, socially, and spiritually. No use getting "burned out" by unful-filled and unrealistic expectations, personally or ecclesially. "Do not collapse your eschaton." Notes I See, for example, Jerry Edelwich and Archie Brodsky, Burn-Out: Stages of Disillusionment in the Helping Professions (New York: Human Sciences Press, 1980). Recent theological studies into the meaning of genuine Christian love suggest that agape alone, wholly other-centered love, is not only a human impossibility, but most likely a mythical unreality. Not even God, despite treatises to the contrary, is wholly other-centered, sola agape. In the Trinity there seems to be some measure of philia, mutual love one for another, within the Godhead, as well as some degree of eros, personal satisfaction in eternal life and in relationship among each of the divine Persons. Add God's involvement with and seeming delight in creation and we profess a God who is love in all its dimensions--selfless, mutual, and personally fulfilling. The varied literature on ministerial burnout includes a classic text and 16 Review for Religious a new volume: John Sanford, Ministry Burnout (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1982); Robert R. Lutz and Bruce T. Taylor (eds.), Surviving in Ministry (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1990). 2 Herbert J. Freudenberger, Burnout: The High Cost of High Achievement (Garden City: Anchor Press/Doubleday, 1980), p. 13. 3 Bernard Hiiring sadly labels this the curial process of "restoration." For further analysis of these trends and H~ring's insights, see Bernard H~iring, "The Role of the Catholic Moral Theologian," in Charles E. Curran (ed.), Moral Theology: Challenges for the Future (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1990), pp. 32-47; "A Letter to the Pope," Tablet (30 June 1990); "The Church I Want," Tablet (28 July 1990); "Life in the Spirit," Tablet (4 August 1990). 4Avery Dulles SJ, Models of the Church (New York: Doubleday, 1974); A Church to Believe In (New York: Crossroad, 1982). s Vatican II, Lumen Gentium (Dogmatic Constitution on the Church); Gaudium et Spes (Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World). Synod of Bishops, "The Final Report," Origins 15 (19 December 1985): 444-450. The ecclesiology in each of these is discussed in Avery Dulles SJ, '% Half Century of Ecclesiology," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 419-442. 6 The 1990 Lutz/Taylor anthology, Surviving in Ministry (note 1 above), was written primarily for a Protestant audience, indicating that what I have called "workaholic burnout" is a current issue for many mainline Protestant ministers. The book, however, has application for religious, clergy, and especially lay ministers in the Catholic Church, people striving to balance ministerial work with a reasonable home and social life. 7 Dulles, "A Half Century of Ecclesiology," 423-425, 433-434; see also Hans Kiing, Reforming the Church Today: Keeping Hope Alive (New York: Crossroad, 1990). ~ Vatican II, Lumen Gentium (Dogmatic Constinltion on the Church), no. 8. 9Ibid, nos. 14-17. 10 Some more conservative readers might think that I am flirting with heresy. After all, there is an ancient patristic maxim that "outside the church there is no salvation." Seniors and church-history buffs may remember that Boston's Father Leonard Feeney tested the Catholic Church's interpretation of this in the 1940s by asserting that outside the Roman Catholic Church no one could be saved. He suffered excommunication for this ahistorical denominational overreaching of the definition of church, receiving reconciliation only after a nuanced recantation in later life. ** Patrick J. Brennan, Re-Imagining the Parish (New York: Crossroad, 1989), p. 12. 12 W. Benjamin Pratt, "Burnout: A Spiritual Pilgrimage," in Lutz/Taylor, Surviving in Ministry, p. 108. January-February 1992 17 ERIK RIECHERS Vincent Pallotti vs. Polarization o say that we live in a polarized church is to state the painfully obvious. The church is full of some very angry people, and this anger is dividing it into many factions. All around us we find examples of the growing polarization which is sepa-rating brothers and sisters in the Christian community. In our parishes we find different groups struggling for control over the direction of the community. In the dioceses different interest groups push their agenda without concern for the legitimate con-cerns and problems of segments of the local church. On the national and international levels, we can find the same struggle among opposing factions with only an increase in the amount of power and control that is being fought over. To be brief, polar-ization based on anger is a horrible and prevalent reality in our church. We are rapidly becoming people who fight for our ideo-logical causes and, therefore, are filled with an ideological anger towards those who disagree with us. Thus, liberation theologians are angry with classical theologians, classical theologians are angry with conservatives, conservatives are angry with progressives, the youth with the older generation, the laity with the clergy, and the clergy are angry and suspicious of the laity. Finally, there are those who are angry at everybody in the church. Our polarization often comes from anger that stems from ideology and not faith or theology. Ideological anger is based on real pain, be it mental, spiritual, or emotional. But it is an anger justified on ideological grounds. This anger feeds on itself, refuses to seek healing and reconciliation. It enjoys perpetuating itself, Erik Riechers SAC wrote "Love and Apostolate" for our November/ December 1988 issue. His address is 321 90th Avenue S.E.; Calgary, Alberta; Canada T2J 0A1. 18 Review for Religious enjoys no reflective moment. Instead, the knee-jerk reaction becomes the norm of response. Gradually our perception of the issue is clouded, and we replace individuals with neat stereotypes. Finally, we justify our anger by hiding it behind our "cause" and then declaring it righteous, when in fact, by this time, it is often pure hatred based on a gut reaction. Such a polarization, how-ever, has a price tag, and an expensive one at that. The first victim of polarization in the church is our sense of humor. When we are ideologically angry, we are no longer able to laugh at ourselves or with one another. The same humor which used to ease the tensions of our disagreements now adds to them. The foibles and weaknesses that once were laughed at because of their absurdity are no longer funny, for adherents of ideology tend to make no distinction between the allegiance they demand for their cause and that which they claim for themselves. This does not make for easy self-critical observation which is the root of humor. The seriousness which was once preserved for the issue itself is now extended to the proponents, so that not just the cause is on the line, but their very persons are at stake. Honesty is the second victim of polarization based on ideo-logical anger. As our anger grows, our honesty begins to shrivel. The real issues are soon forgotten and fall by the wayside. Personal animosities enter the arena once reserved for the matter at hand, and the issue has become a chance for us to vent our spleens. There is a willingness to see every form of evil in the others, but to ignore or justify the same attributes in ourselves. The best example is the parishioner who bemoans the stubborn-ness of another person in the parish, but describes his or her own intransigence as tenacity in the cause of justice. Sullenly we refuse to acknowledge even the smallest positive sign in the others, yet deem ourselves to be the last bastion of virtue and truth. Here the truth dies an ignominious death. Therefore, it becomes pos-sible for people in the parish to complain that their fellow parish-ioners do not listen to the authority of the pastor, but then refuse to follow the same authority when they themselves disagree with it. On the national church scene, there are some who decry the heavy-handed authority of those in positions of power, yet actu-ally advocate the same methods to further their own cause. In each case, the people who are caught up in the throes of ideo-logical anger have lost the ability to see and recognize the truth. But those who cannot recognize the truth cannot recognize Christ, ~anuary-February 1992 19 Riecbers ¯ Pallotti vs. Polarization the Truth. As a consequence it becomes easy enough to resort to stubbornness and call it fidelity, to savagely attack the integrity of another and call it defending the faith, or to speak with vitriolic cruelty and then label it righteous indignation. Charity is the final victim of our polarization; especially here we pay a heavy price. This is the devastating moment in which brothers and sisters refuse each other table fellowship. Parishioners will not associate with one another, and parish coun-cils replace dialogue with diatribe. Every motive is impugned as we expect the others to be as rotten and nasty as we have made them out to be. No longer is there a willingness to grant the ben-efit of the doubt or to assume the best. Distrust becomes the rule as the grip of our anger slowly squeezes our hearts dry. Yet the bleakness of the picture I have drawn is not a neces-sity and can be overcome. The dreariness of polarization can be lightened with the brilliance of the spiritual life. The polariza-tion of the church we live in can be seen as the result of our sin-ful brokenness, but it can also be seen as a call to a new fidelity. It is our spiritual lives which are suffering most from the atmo-sphere of poisoned debate and mistrust. Recognizing that we have strayed from the path of Jesus Christ, we always have the oppor-tunity to respond anew to the call of the Lord. There are cer-tainly many ways of achieving this, but I would like to suggest the way of a very special man, St. Vincent Pallotti (1795-1850). A man of incredible spiritual stature, he is to this day an effective and powerful teacher of the spiritual life for thousands of members of the Union of the Catholic Apostolate. It is my firm conviction that he has a great deal to offer all of us in the polarized church and that he can point out to us a way of spiritual regeneration. Pallotti's first response to a polarized church is to emphasize the need of putting our focus on God. He is a staunch proponent of such a focus. Repeatedly he calls upon his listeners to channel their energy and effort into God. In one of his most famous prayers, he lists the many things in life that people pursue, but then admonishes us to seek God alone. "Not the intellect, but God. Not the will, but God. Not the heart, but God . Not food and drink, but God .Not worldly goods, but God .God in all and forever." In another passage he writes, "I want nothing but God: nothing, nothing." It is in this God-centeredness that Pallotti offers us an antidote for the self-centeredness which is at the root of all our polarization. When we focus on God and the 20 Review for Religious magnificent work of redemption wrought for our sake, we see our causes and our self-interest for what they truly are: petty and insignificant. The God-centeredness of Pallotti would root us again in the essential mission of Christ and wean us from the pre-occupation with our own agenda. The more we fill our lives with God alone, the less room is left for our own narrow and selfish ideological causes. Pallotti goes on to offer us a second response to polarization in the church by emphasizing the Pauline challenge to become all things to all people. If in the first instance Pallotti prays for a focused heart, in the sec-ond he prays for a responsive heart. As Father Francesco Amoroso, a leading Pallotti scholar, points out, the closer Pallotti draws to God, the closer he draws to his creatures and the greater is his yearning to become responsive to the infinite love to which he has drawn close. "I want to help the poor as well as I can . I want to become food and drink and clothing in order to alleviate their need. I want to be transformed into light for the blind, hearing for the deaf, and health for the sick." In these touching words of prayer, Pallotti shows us the result of a heart aimed at responding to the need of our brothers and sisters, namely, a shattering of the bondage to egotistical and ideological anger. For Pallotti it is per-fectly clear that a heart made responsive by God's infinite love destroys polarization because it is more concerned with the need of the other than with the desire to be successful or right. Pallotti was a man who cherished the communion of the church. He saw our communion as something of an essentially sacred nature because it is rooted in love and built upon that love. Pallotti describes love as the substantial constituent of the church, without which all things decline. Thus, Pallotti challenges us to heed the call to live as church. The church is a communion of brothers and sisters united by their shared life with God and one another in the power of baptism. This shared existence is nour-ished by their participation in the one bread and one cup offered on the one altar of the Lord. They share a common calling in Christ and are led by the same word which calls them to com-munion and demands of them a common sharing in the fate and destiny of one another and of Christ. In God-centeredness Pallotti offers us an antidote for self-centeredness. ~anuary-February 1992 21 Riecbers ¯ Pallotti vs. Polarization We seem to have forgotten that there is no opposition party in the church. Yet we are rapidly losing this understanding of ourselves as church, a loss Pallotti considered intolerable. Instead, we have replaced the image of church as communion with the image of church as parliament. In parliament many parties fight for power, each interested in furthering its cause and hindering the policies of the other parties. Nothing binds individuals together save the desire to be the party in power. In the search for power and the realization of their cause, they constantly belittle, demean, and devalue the efforts and ideas of those they oppose. Above all, a par-liament does not have love as its substantial constituent. Sometimes we seem to have forgotten that there is rio opposition party in the church. We all belong to the community, we are all moving in the same direction. There are no enemies to beat off, only brothers and sisters we must struggle to understand. We belong to the same family, even when we are of dif-fering mind-set. Naturally, this does not deny the possibility of disagreement and differing opinions. Yet, when we disagree or differ, it is as parts of one community that we do so. The force of our differences must be balanced by the strength of our love for one another as brothers and sisters. If getting our own way, winning the argument, or being proven correct becomes more important than preserving our bond of love as community, then we no longer heed the call of Christ. Pallotti was a man of great humility, always struggling to rec-ognize the reality of his life as a sinner who was redeemed by infinite love. This too is part of Pallotti's challenge to us today: to heed the call to live in humility and reconciliation. Humility means that we are rooted in reality, that we perceive reality as it is and not as we would have it. Upon recognizing our reality we abandon exaggerated self-assertion, give up self-righteousness, allow the truth of our sinfulness to stand before our eyes, and we rid ourselves of the illusions of our grandeur, power, and perfec-tion. Only in humility do we find the ability to serve God and neighbor because it is in humility that we see them both as they truly are. Reconciliation becomes possible because we recognize both grace and sin in ourselves and in others. We can be a peo-ple that lives mutual complementarity in the Body of Christ 22 Review for Religious because with the clarity of humility we can acknowledge the charisms in the other members of the church, even if they should not agree with us in every question. Like Pallotti, we are in good shape when despite our differences we realize that we would be impoverished without the gifts and talents of the others. Finally, Pallotti can offer us the simple lesson of humor. If we possess humility, we can laugh at our vanity and pride. The positions we once defended with such venom remain important, but our actions often look as foolish as they actually were. The sweeping generalizations made in the heat of angry debate sud-denly bring a sheepish smile to our lips and a somewhat rueful laugh from our hearts. Thomas More put it well when he prayed for a sense of humor and the grace to understand a joke so that he would know a bit of joy in this life and pass it on to others. That gift of humor is very much a part of our calling, and it is a criti-cal part of the healing needed in a polarized church. For when we are able to laugh at ourselves and one another, we are able to leave behind the anger and the pain and to invest our energy, dedication, and commitment in the only cause that really mat-ters, the kingdom of God. Pallotti's sense of humor is not often described since the hagiographers had other interests in mind when writing about him. But there are subtle hints of a gentle humor in the man, and there is no doubt in my mind that his humor helped him to overcome the many daunting obstacles he faced in his lifetime. For, if Pallotti did not have a sense of humor, we would be hard pressed to explain the gentleness, patience, and kindness which marked his entire ministry and life. Martin Luther King Jr. once spoke with eloquence of his dream of a world without social injustice and racial hatred. Pallotti too had a dream of a new reality, a dream he called many to share with him. We dream of a church which has been swept clean of polarization and ideological anger by the refreshing wind of the Holy Spirit. We dream of a church of mutual complementarity where the ordained and the laity cooperate rather than compete; where young and old are fulfilled rather than frightened by each other; where women and men complement rather than contra-dict each other; where diversity does not mean division and learn-ing can replace lambasting. We dream of a church where the pure waters of coresponsibility will extinguish the burning flames of power, domination, and polarization. .~anuary-February 1992 23 DENNIS J. BILLY The Ecumenical Kernel call for Christian unity an authentic and wide enough theological basis for diverse doctrinal and moral opinion. Such a finding can be arrived at only through a close examination of the various assumptions of that call, not the least of which concerns the very meaning of the term "oneness" itself. This, in turn, must be inte-grated with the whole of theology and in such a way that the integrity of each of the Christian traditions is maintained. The Theological Basis of Ecumenism Theologically the call to Christian unity can be traced to a number of well-known New Testament texts. Jesus' priestly prayer for solidarity among those who believe (Jn 17:21), Paul's chal-lenging description of the oneness of those baptized in Christ (Ga 3:27-28), and the eloquent call to unity in faith, baptism, and Spirit expressed by the author of Ephesians (4:4-5) are but a few of the many texts which come to mind (for example, Jn 14:20, Ac 4:32, Rin 10:12, 1 Co 12:13, Col 3:11, Heb 6:12). When taken together with Irenaeus's understanding of the church's unity of faith in both heart and soul (Adversus haereses, 1.10.2), Cyprian's notion of the unity of the church as the source of salvation (De ecdesiae unitate, 6), and Nicea's definition of the signs of the church Dennis Billy CSSR, who has often contributed to our pages, continues to reside at Accademia Mfonsiana; Via Merulana, 31; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma, Italy. 24 Review for Religious as "one, holy, catholic, and apostolic" (italics mine), these texts support the classical theological claim of the church's indivisible nature. Such evidence, however, must not be taken at face value. Beneath it lies the question why the call for unity holds such a prominent place in the texts of Christian antiquity. Do these texts portray a historical reality or a theologized hope? Do they reveal a concrete picture of the ecclesial circumstances of their times? Or do they point instead to the discouraging and often embarrassing experience of disunity within the ranks of the early church com-munities? This latter possibility seems more than likely. To sup-port this claim, one need merely point to the first-century tensions between Jewish and Gentile Christians over the need to adhere to the letter of the Mosaic law (see Acts 15), or to the Gnostic threat within the early-second-century church of Antioch which led Ignatius to see the value of a strong monarchical episcopacy, or to the third-century controversy between Carthage and Rome over the rebaptism of the lapsed, or even to the hostile division between Catholic and Arian camps in the pre-Nicene church of the early fourth century. It must also be remembered that so-called hereti-cal ideas often develop within existing ecclesial structures and are labeled as such only when circumstances push the church's teach-ing authority to articulate for its members a more precise theo-logical doctrine. In this respect, heterodoxy occasions the historical context within which orthodoxy struggles continually to refine itself. This relation of codependence in the history of Christian thought needs much further study and clarification. It comes as no small surprise, then, that one of the greatest feats of the Second Vatican Council was its dogged attempt to invert the historical dynamics of ecumenical relations from neg-ative contrariety (that is, heterodox/orthodox codependence) to cooperative dialogue. While acknowledging that the one church of Christ subsists visibly in the Catholic Church (Lume~ Gentium, 8), the council fathers recognized varying degrees of incorpora-tion into Christ's Body and, for the first time ever, the existence of other churches or ecclesiastical communities (Lumen Gemium, 14-16). They also called for the restraint of prejudicial attitudes, dialogue between competent experts, more cooperation in work-ing for the good of humanity, prayer undertaken in common, and the ongoing task of renewal and reform (Unitatis Redintegratio, 4). The intention of these challenging doctrinal innovations was January-February 1992 25 Billy ¯ Ecumenical Kernel to foster within ecumenical relations: (1) a conciliatory attitude towards the divisions of the past, (2) a realistic attitude towards the possibilities of the present, and (3) a hopeful attitude for the future. The immediate result has been more than two decades of intense dialogue between the Catholic Church and virtually every major Christian denomination and non-Christian religion. The Meaning of Christian Unity From these discussions a number of questions about the nature of Christian unity have arisen. Is the sought-after unity something which exists in the transcendent, other-worldly dimen-sion of Christ's Mystical Body? Is it to have visible expressions in the world in which we live? Must these expressions be of a structural or institutional nature? Are these expressions neces-sary to the nature of the church? Is an absolute uniformity of doctrine and morals essential to the rule of faith? Is it something that people can and should experience in the concrete expres-sions of their daily lives? Is greater cooperation in social-justice issues enough? Is it sufficient for the Christian churches simply to agree to disagree? If so, then in what does the distinctive Christian witness to the world consist? Since the answers to these and sim-ilar questions vary as much as the theological starting points of the numerous denominations involved, it is no small wonder that, on almost every front, ecumenical dialogue is slowly moving towards (and, in some cases, has already arrived at) a discouraging and uneasy state of theological deadlock. What is the worth of present attempts to break through this apparent confessional impasse? Is the standstill itself a sign that the ecumenical process has been moving in the wrong direction? The latter seems worthy of exploration. Rather than being thought of as mutually exclusive, perhaps the relational models of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue can be juxtaposed--held in tension, if you will--in such a way as to enable the churches to understand the meaning of Christian unity in more dynamic and creative terms. Perhaps the Catholic Church needs to examine its tradition of dependence on the classical Protestant theologies (that is, Lutheranism, Anglicanism, Calvinism) as a means of refin-ing its insights into the richness of its own theological tradition. The various Protestant denominations, in turn, should do the same with Catholic theology and perhaps even with each other. 26 Review for Religious The point being made here is that a theological concept can be fully appreciated and understood only in relationship to those ideas it was originally meant to negate. The history of Catholic dogma, in other words, should be written in the context of its own "antihistory," that is, in relation to those who, ultimately, could not accept the consequences of its teaching. But how is this to be done? How is a balance between ecu-menical relations based on negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue to be maintained? Are they not mutually exclusive? Do they not stand in open contradiction to one another? How could they ever be reconciled? Plato's description of justice as well-tem-pered harmony of contrary forces (Republic, IV, 443) proves an invaluable guide in this respect. Unlike Aristotle's rather static rendering of virtue as the mean between the extremes of excess and deficiency (Ethics, 2.6), Plato's understanding allows for a dynamic yet creative interplay of wild and unwieldy forces. True, mistakes will be made from time to time: one horse may over-power the resistance of the charioteer, resulting in his loss of bal-ance and eventual fall. But with the perfection of the skill comes a mastery of these contrary forces; movement is eventually achieved with ease and grace. The point here is that, rather than struggling to reach a theological middle ground acceptable to all concerned, those working for Christian unity should be more involved in trying to help people acquire the skill of dialoguing in the midst of intense confessional conflict. In doing so, future ecu-menical efforts will be less threatened by those in the churches who, somewhere along the way, have let themselves be swayed by one or the other extreme. The Ecumenical Kernel From what has been said thus far, the fundamental principle of ecumenical theology (the ecumenical kernel) may be described as an acquired interior disposition of individual Christians and believing church communities who, seeking to understand the historical and theological significance of their oven religious tra-ditions, maintain an ongoing, balanced relationship of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue with traditions (both Christian and non-Christian; secular and nonsecular) other than their own. The goal of these relationships is to increase, on both personal and communal levels, a deeper appreci.ation of the mutual January-February 1992 27 Billy ¯ Ecumenical Ke~ ,~,,,~ dependence these traditions share in the historical dimensions of space and time. They are to determine as far as possible the extent to which their stated differences prevent them from remaining true to the most basic tenets of their respective faith traditions. Given the above formulation of the ecumenical kernel, a num-ber of observations arise: 1. As "an acquired interior disposition," the principle resides within individual members of the believing faith community. This habitual attitude of mind looks upon other faith traditions not as a threat, but as a challenge to question and, hopefully, to grow in the knowledge and love of one's own tradition. Acquired by human cooperation with the intricate working of God's grace, it repre-sents a level of maturity which cannot be presupposed for all members of a particular tradition. The principle must be thought of as existing in varying degrees among the members of the faith community. Numerous internal tensions are likely and are to be expected. 2. The principle contains an important social dimension. The above-mentioned interior disposition of mind is not confined to private piety, but is oriented, by its very nature, towards being shared with others and towards growth within groups--often across denominational boundaries--for the purpose of achieving its stated relational goals. A person's own interior disposition of mind is strengthened by the growth of this attitude within his or her community. The more this disposition grows in its social ori-entation, the more it will affect the doctrinal outcome of ecu-menical relations among the churches. 3. The principle asserts that the Christian search for self-understanding must be carried out in the context of the relation-ship a particular faith tradition has to those traditions outside of its official confines and which the thrust of its doctrine was orig-inally intended to negate. This "knowledge by negation" forces the believer to delve ever more deeply to the roots of his or her own theological tradition and to try to determine the precise histori-cal basis of church doctrinal statements. 4. From a doctrinal perspective, precedents for the theolog-ical balancing Of opposing extremes are found in both the classi-cal trinitarian doctrine established in the fourth- and fifth-century councils (that is, three Persons in one God) and in the way the divinity and humanity of Christ were balanced in the definition of Chalcedon (451). In each instance the orthodox position emerges 28 Review for Religious only in contrast to certain teachings encountered within the ranks of the church which the authorities ultimately sought to negate (that is, Arianism, Nestorianism, Monophysitism). In such a way the principle challenges the church to adapt its classical theolog-ical approach of balancing opposing extremes to the pressing ecu-menical concerns of the present. 5. The balancing of the relationships of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue also points to the capacity of an individual or group to maintain a steadfast internal equilibrium between two very different ways of dealing with the lack of religious unity in their lives (that is, polemics and irenics). Rather than seeking to compromise or to water down one doctrine with the other, the aim here is to develop within believers suffi-cient latitude of mind not only to chal-lenge and confront, but also to see the intrinsic worth of faith traditions other than their own. By helping believers to recognize the extent to which their own tradition is dependent upon and has, in fact, been enriched by various opposing ones, these relationships should evoke a unity of respect that will go a long way in the pursuit of further ecumenical exchanges. 6. Since various religious and secular traditions are likely to be involved, the extent and scope of these relationships will vary from place to place, even within local churches of the same tra-dition. Stronger and more fruitful relationships of negative con-trariety will exist between those traditions sharing a long history of doctrinal controversy. Relationships of cooperative dialogue are constrained only by the limits of constructive theological reflection and exchange. Since each tradition will obviously look within itself for its measure of orthodoxy, progress in ecumenical relations is to be measured not so much in terms of a movement towards doctrinal uniformity as in the mutual commitment of each tradition to keeping the balanced relationship of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue alive. 7. The goal of appreciating the mutual dependence of con-flicting religious traditions challenges the members of each com- Other faith traditions are not a threat, but a challenge to question and, hopefully, to grow in the knowledge and love of one's own tradition. January-February 1992 29 B~I~ ¯ Ecumenical Kernel munity to take the risk of letting go, if ever so briefly, of some of the most precious presuppositions of their faith. They do this, on the one hand, in order to look at their own tradition from outside its own self-limiting confines and, on the other hand, to experience the conflicting tradition from within its own framework of hermeneutical preconceptions. The result should be an inter-pretative turn back to their own tradition with eyes opened anew to both the strengths and weaknesses of their most basic doctri-nal positions. 8. From this deeper appreciation of mutual dependence, there arises a concern over the extent to which the differences now articulated between each opposing tradition prevent them from remaining faithful to even more basic tenets of their faith which each tradition may very well share with the other. The stated goal is and must always remain a person's faithfulness to his or her own theological tradition. Disagreement between mutually depen-dent religious traditions is to be expected and cannot be over-come in all instances. VC-hat is more important is (1) that these mutually dependent religious traditions support each other in the beliefs and values which they share and (2) that they remain com-mitted to maintaining an open relationship of contrariety, one which will insure that each will continue to refine its own positions and grow in a deeper understanding of their final consequences. These observations do not exhaust the richness of the fun-damental principle of ecumenical theology as set forth in this essay. They seek merely to draw out some of the implications of the principle and to provide a context within which the current efforts of ecumenism may be renewed. Religious have an impor-tant role to play in such a renewal. Religious and Ecumenism Characterized by a communal lifestyle dedicated to the evan-gelical counsels, the religious life provides an environment that can foster the interior disposition of the heart and mind needed to maintain a balanced relationship of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue. In their vow of poverty, religious seek to empty themselves not merely of an inordinate attachment to material goods, but even of those immaterial attachments of the mind and heart that may get in the way of their service of the Lord. In an ecumenical context, 30 Review for Religious this would mean a willingness to hold one's own theological opin-ions "in check" so as to cooperate with other faith traditions with a view towards experiencing them for their own intrinsic worth. Such an interior disposition should culminate in a deeper aware-ness of the various strengths and weaknesses of one's own theo-logical perspective. In their vow of obedience, religious choose to accept the will of their superiors as a con-crete sign of God's design for them in their lives. In an ecu-menical context, this would translate into a strong identifi-cation of one's own desire for church unity with the approved ecumenical directives of the Catholic Church. Religious would thus stand as staunch defenders of their church's theological tradition who are able and willing not only to confront other reli-gious traditions with challeng-ing questions and observations rooted in a sound knowledge of their own faith, but also to The risk of letting go of some of the most precious presuppositions of their faith to look at their own tradition from outside its self-limiting confines should open one's eyes anew to both the strengths and weaknesses of their most basic doctrinal positions. refine their own theological positions in the light of challenges and observations received from without. In their vow of chastity, religious forgo the goods of marriage in order to give witness to the existence of a life beyond the con-fines of the present earthly reality. In an ecumenical context, this translates into a constant reminder to the various proponents of church unity that the ultimate source of that unity cannot be human efforts alone, but is the trinitarian harmony of "unity in plurality" within the life of the Godhead itself. Religious thus urge their fellow Christians to be aware of the eschatological dimensions of their struggle for church unity. God's kingdom, in other words, is established on earth only to the extent that the oneness and peace found in the divinity's inner life manifests itself (1) within the communal assemblies of the faithful and (2) in the human society where these faithful assemblies gather. January-February 1992 31 Billy ¯ Ecumenical Kernel Even more important than the above considerations is the fact that the religious life asks its members to strive constantly towards achieving in many areas of their lives a delicate balance of opposing extremes, for example, action/contemplation; personal needs/community life; the ideals of the evangelical counsels/the experience of human weakness and the tendency to sin. Such a life of balanced extremes should make the balance of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue spoken of in this essay that much easier to incorporate within one's own spirituality and approach to life. This is not to say that a similar balance cannot be developed in other states of life within the church (for exam-ple, single, married, priestly lives), but only that the religious life is especially suited to it. To be sure, the eschatological orientation of the vows themselves moves the religious to maintain a contin-ually balanced perspective between life in the present and in the beyond. Realized eschatology refers not to a collapse of the latter into the former, but to the balanced and simultaneous movement of each, bringing the Christian to his or her ultimate end in God. Conclusion This essay deals with the present deadlock in ecumenical progress by reexamining some of the basic premises of the dis-cussion and by suggesting a redirection of many current efforts for Christian unity. As put forth in these pages, the fundamental prin-ciple of ecumenical theology (the ecumenical kernel) calls for the balancing of the opposing extremes of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue. While the former refers to the relationship of heterodox/orthodox codependence prevalent in the early church and in the Catholic Church's relation with dissident Christian traditions down through the centuries, the latter represents the more conciliatory, irenic approach employed since the time of the Second Vatican Council. The essay argues that the movement towards Christian unity lies not so much in a calculated agenda for doctrinal uniformity as in the commitment among the churches to maintain the balanced relationship of negative contrariety and cooperative dialogue. The bonds resulting from such a relation-ship of opposing extremes give rise to a healthy respect for tra-ditions other than one's own and to a deeper consciousness of the mutual dependence which so many traditions share but so sel-dom advert to. 32 Review for Religious Religious can play an important role in maintaining this bal-ance of opposing extremes. Their commitment to the vows pro-vides them with a deep spiritual basis from which they can develop the necessary internal disposition of mind and heart required for the principle to take effect. Since their way of life already asks them to sustain a similar balance of opposing extremes in many areas of their lives, they give witness, on the one hand, to those who believe it cannot be done and set an example, on the other hand, for those seeking to embody the principle in their own lives. The faithful dedication of religious to their calling not only serves as a leaven for themselves and others (both within and without the Catholic tradition), but also can make those who are deaf to the call for church unity sit up and take notice. Religious should be in the forefront of the church's attempt to maintain with other religious traditions a balanced relationship of nega-tive contrariety and cooperative dialogue. In sum, then, the fundamental principle of ecumenical theol-ogy (the ecumenical kernel) states that church unity involves a pro-cess of committed encounter between religious traditions whose very existence implies a relationship of concrete mutual depen-dence. The goal of ecumenical theology is to highlight this rela-tionship and thus provide, for all concerned, a deeper understanding of the issues which unite and separate them. Since such under-standing will take place only in the context of the above-mentioned balance of opposing extremes, it would seem that the churches have much to do before the long-yearned-for unity "in faith and morals" becomes a reality for future Christian generations. January-February 1992 33 JAMES M. KEEGAN Elements and Dynamics of a Spiritual-Direction Practicum direction and discernment the West Coast to talk about their common concerns in training spiritual directors, has discovered itself large enough to form a separate East Coast "symposium." In the years of religious discovery after Vatican II, a num-ber of institutions in North America established them-selves as centers for the training or development of spiritual directors. This sudden evolution, or fission, into dozens of programs is startling. It seems the training of spiritual directors, almost without being noticed, is becom-ing a significant commitment of church-related institu-tions. While the methods and goals of these ventures are as diverse as the people who manage them, there is a signifi-cant difference between practicum programs and those which do not involve such an element. Even among practicums the variety of ways and means can be dizzy-ing. To stimulate and encourage those engaged in the adventure of developing spiritual directors--or thinking James M. Keegan sJ has been involved in the training of spir-itual directors for a dozen years, first in New England and now in Kentucky. His present work is in the Spirituality Office of the Archdiocese of Louisville: Flaget Center; 1935 Lewiston Place; Louisville, Kentucky 40216. 34 Review for Religious about it--this article will describe some of the facets of a suc-cessful practicum and then present two important issues which seem inevitably to arise in this kind of work. The Need for Practicums At the center of its pedagogy, a practicum program includes the actual doing of spiritual direction with directees over a period of time, plus staff supervision of that work. Under this definition falls a wide variety of actual plans, courses, and organizations ranging from year-long full-time programs to part-time one-to-four- year courses, as well as those shorter arrangements designed for one to four months which may include individually directed retreats as the practicum element. The abundance of programs answers a new demand for spir-itual directors, a demand arising from a felt need as well as from the increased visibility of spiritual direction as an attractive, pos-sibly even faddish, discovery in the current atmosphere of the churches. Increasingly, professional ministers are recognizing their spiritual hunger and lack of regular nourishment in the central relationship of their lives and opting to do something about it beyond an annual retreat. Furthermore, as lay men and women are encouraged and educated to claim their particular gifts of min-istry, many are realizing the concomitant need for stronger spir-itual grounding. So they seek out competent spiritual directors. The quality of training which those directors receive seems of paramount importance if they are to be accurately helpful to these men and women, as well as accountable for what they do. While a reading knowledge of spiritual direction or an understanding of some of its theoretical schemata can be important in preparing one to do the work and especially in reflecting on it later, such an approach without the practical element of working with individ-uals can be counterproductive and even dangerous. The theories of spiritual life that one reads have been developed from many an individual case over long periods of trial and error. They acknowledge, of course, the rough edges and ambiguities one meets when face-to-face with a directee, but they cannot predict how any one of us will react in that circumstance. For instance, one can understand that change and development in prayer are often signaled by inner darkness, and yet have no idea how to understand and respond to a directee's yearning pain. One may January-February 1992 35 Keegan ¯ Spiritual-Direction Practicum have theories about the termination of spiritual direction, but be completely thrown when a particular directee wants to quit. A program involving a supervised practicum should be considered a sine qua non at some point in the development of a qualified spiritual director. Those who run successful programs usually have articulated their beliefs and pedagogy in a model of spiritual direction which they attempt to impart to the participants. For some, the heart of the model is conversion; for others, religious experience or the incorporation of social awareness into one's life and prayer. The strength of the practicum, however, comes not from a model of spiritual direction, but from the experience of God at work in the directee, the director, and the supervisor--and from their suc-cesses and mistakes. If it is genuinely at the service of its partic-ipants' experience of God, a successful practicum program is a continuous test of the model upon which it based. Change and development in spiritual life may look quite different from what is expected; God's action may outfox the supervisor as well as the director and demand that the staff reflect critically upon its assumptions in the light of its experience. Elements of a Practicum A practicum is composed of a staff and the participants. "Staff" here means supervisory staff, even though other staff persons may be vital to the functioning of the program. The staff oversees the participants in at least six basic and essential elements. 1. Active engagement in the work of spiritual direction. Nothing substitutes for each participant's seeing several directees on a reg-ular basis if the core of learning is to be the recognition of God's action in another's life. Other elements of the program are more or less useful as they help participants become better at recog-nizing and facilitating another person's relationship with God. Directees most often come through the sponsoring organization, with staff members conducting a first interview to determine their readiness for spiritual direction. In other instances, participants in the program bring their own directees. In any case the staff should determine its role in the admission of directees so as to insure that these persons' real needs may be met and that the practicum's participants may best learn from their experience. Their work with a number of directees regularly over an 36 Review for Religious extended period of time provides them with learning that cannot be acquired in briefer time or with only one or two individuals. They may learn from dealing with the slow development of one person's contemplative ability, or with people at different stages of spiritual life or in different socioeconomic conditions, or with various dynamics of change in people's relationship with God. Whereas some beginning directees may already be at home in their inner lives, others will need patient help in discovering an inner landscape, noticing and then articulating interior events, and continuing to pray when things get dark. The way in which such variety challenges or affirms assumptions that the partici-pants have provides an invaluable arena for their formation as spiritual directors. 2. Regular supervision of actual cases. Confidential supervision using verbatim reports (or taped interviews) is the central learn-ing arena. Supervision begins when the participant prepares a detailed ("verbatim") report of what actually occurred in a par-ticular spiritual-direction session, and is furthered in the encounter with a staff supervisor. The focus is on exploring the participant's responses and reactions rather than on diagnosing the directee, and the goal is twofold: assuring the welfare of the directee and promoting the personal and professional integration of the par-ticipant, the fledgling director. Many programs include group supervision to provide insight that may not come from a single supervisor, and to encourage participants in the program to think in a supervisory manner. Learning through supervision to reflect on the particulars of their work with a directee, participants can become aware of their particular strengths and weaknesses as spiritual directors. Rather than simply offering tools or techniques for the work, a super-vised practicum can help directors to discover their own distinc-tive style and abilities, taking as their goal the development of the person of the spiritual director as a director. Supervision helps to develop a discriminating mind-set, a love for criticism, and the healthy skepticism about one's own work which allows God to be the creative one in the lives of directees. 3. Regular personal spiritual direction. It is clear that one of the greatest helps or hindrances to growth in a practicum program is the participant's personal experience of receiving spiritual direc-tion. We shall see in the final section of this article that partici-pants' personal lives and prayer may hit rocky ground in the January-February 1992 37 Keegan ¯ Spiritual-Direction Practicum course of this kind of program, and personal issues may cloud their ability to learn. At least during the practicum, participants should be encouraged to receive direction from directors whose practice is known by the staff to be based on principles similar to those being taught. Furthermore, without an experiential awareness of those principles active in their own life, participants may well find the focus of a particular program either intellectu-ally confusing or, worse, negligible. 4. Study: Courses, Workshops, Reading. A tragic flaw in many practicums is the attempt to accomplish so much that the essen-tials are lost; more material is covered at the expense of contem-plative depth and reflection on the work. No staff wants to certify ignorant or uninformed directors, but the body of knowledge with which a good spiritual director should be familiar is growing so rapidly that it could ease an experiential pedagogy into sec-ond place. Each staff will have to determine for itself how much time and energy should be given to at least these four areas: the-ology (Scripture study, Christology, moral theology), psychology (developmental theory, study of the unconscious, diagnostic cat-egories), spirituality (history, traditions of prayer and discern-ment), and culture (religiopolitical history, issues of social justice). Some will set certain prerequisites for entrance into their pro-grams while others will encourage concurrent workshops, courses, and reading. A rule of thumb might be that academic work in a practicum should illumine the participants' experience of doing spiritual direction and whet their appetite for further investigation rather than just provide familiarity with a broad range of material on spirituality. 5. Reflection. Development of spiritual directors demands con-templative time for participants to remember, think and pray about, and otherwise mull over with their directees. Reflection is a value that needs to be built into the program, or competing forces will eat it away. It is possible to design a course whose aca-demic elements unite around and illuminate the participants' experience doing the work of direction. While the goal of a grad-uate program might be the students' command of the history of spirituality and the works of its major authors, a practicum seeks to help its participants understand their experience in the light of the tradition. Reading assignments, for instance, will be differ-ent than in academic programs: participants may be asked to famil-iarize themselves with the cultural background of a spiritual classic 38 Review for Religious and then read only a few pages of the actual work, imagining the experience described, comparing it with what they have seen, noticing their reactions to it. Questions like the following might be pursued after a reading of the first three chapters of the Life of Teresa of Avila: What do you understand (or not) of her expe-rience of God? Have you seen anything like it in any of your directees? How is it different? What do you make of the cultural influences on Teresa? on your directee? What is God like for these people? Where does Teresa's experi-ence lead? your directee's? Some programs provide retreat week-ends for their participants, or other kinds of shared prayer. Journaling can be built into group time, along with some sharing of that journaling with the group. Finally, the staff's reflective lifestyle, or its absence, speaks most loudly of the values inherent in any program. 6. Evaluation. However it may make us cringe, a supervisory program is inescapably evaluative. Supervision, as described here, is a means of critical self-evaluation. Further, if participants are progressing toward some kind of certification, clear develop-mental criteria must be communicated and maintained. It is essen-tial that the staff have understood these criteria uniformly and agreed upon them and that it apply them equitably. Furthermore, the staff needs to talk at length with one another about their atti-tudes toward evaluation, both of participants' performance and of their own. The more clearly the staff understands the foundational phi-losophy and pedagogy of the program, the more clearly it will communicate the goals and objectives of each term or semester, and the more helpful the evaluations will be for those in the pro-gram. If, for instance, a goal of the first segment is a demon-strated ability to listen to a directee with empathy, acceptance, and genuineness, both the staff and those being evaluated would have to understand and recognize the working definitions of those terms and agree on their place in the work of spiritual direction. A positive evaluation would encourage participants by helping them to own their strengths and successes and would challenge them with specific directions for growth in the next segment of the Reflection is a value that needs to be built into the program, or competing forces will eat it away. ~anuary-Felrruary 1992 39 Keegan ¯ Spiritual-Direction Practicum work. In deciding what constitutes a negative evaluation, how-ever, and what the next steps should be, a staff may run into ques-tions and disagreements rooted in the subjective nature of much of their work, and will need to fall back on their previous inter-action and their togetherness as a team. Evaluation is also a means by which a program can measure its own success in the short term. If the learning goals for each term or semester are not achieved by participants in a demon-strable way, evaluation time 1nay signal a need to rethink parts of the program. 7. Summary. As described here, a practicum program focuses its energies and its various elements on the concrete work of spir-itual direction and on its supervision for learning purposes. Study, reflection, group process, even individuals' own prayer and spir-itual direction are variously related to what happens when the participants engage with a directee. The supervisory staff need a shared understanding and experience of the basic elements of such engagement which they want to develop in those who come to them for training. Because the heart of the practicum is the meeting of persons--the directee, the director, and the supervi-sor, all carrying their own inner wounds and scars, and the supremely free person of God--the entire endeavor stands on precarious ground. The following section will discuss two events which, unlike earthquakes, may be predictable. Some Dynamics of a Supervisory Program. Although a practicum is a clinic for ministerial development, personal as well as clinical issues will inevitably arise among the participants and call for attention. V~hen strongly felt psycho-logical and spiritual change begins to happen to individuals in a group, the forces at play can be simultaneously shrill and very subtle, and a staff ought to be prepared to listen beneath the noise lest their program be derailed. Below I will discuss two issues, a personal issue which often has profound impact on the practicum as a whole and a clinical one which arises from the nature of a practicum. First, if the program presents a refined focus or a particular understanding of the nature of prayer or spirituality, it will prob-ably confront to some degree the spiritual lives of those enrolled in it. People will be challenged to confirm their own experience 40 Review for Religious anew, to look into it more deeply than before, or to criticize and possibly jettison their old assumptions about God, prayer, and spiritual life. They may expose the inadequacy of former spiri-tual directors or may encounter their need for counseling or ther-apy; anger may arise and get directed at staff, peers, friends, or directees. Because of new material about spiritual life or new experience of it, the participants themselves begin to change--some-times radically. This is usually an important and welcome development, signaling real engagement in the pro-gram. However, such personal expe-rience can be so strong and so generally felt that, unless a staff expects and understands it, the oper-ative goal of the program can subtly shift from ministerial to personal growth. A practicum can subtly change into a personal-growth rather than a ministerial endeavor if the staff does not keep the emphasis on the work to A practicum can subtly change into a personal-growth rather than a ministerial endeavor if the staff does not keep the emphasis on the work to be done. be done, always conscious of helping the participants to bring their personal growth to bear on their work with directees. Here the staff itself may well need supervision. Elements of the program can be imperceptibly skewed away from the ministerial issues cen-tral to it. Because the person of the director is the focus of super-vision, for instance, supervisory sessions may subtly become therapeutic rather than clinical and professional. If participants are consistently asked to consult their own experience of life or prayer in reflecting on their work, they may not develop the ability to remember and look critically at other people's experience, which will inevitably offer them a wider and more surprising range. Material can be presented in a way that favors the participants' personal application of it and neglects the further step of apply-ing what they have learned to what they have seen in their directees. Since participants often experience the "personal-conversion phenomenon," it can become a group issue which may be best addressed if there is in place some group function where they are encouraged to talk with one another about what is happening to January-February 1992 41 Keegan ¯ Spiritual-Direction Practicum them personally. Further, the staff may need to be flexible enough to modify the syllabus or calendar, to adjust the presentation of material to the ability of individuals in the group to hear and absorb it. The second issue I intend to discuss, for which I borrow the term "narcissistic crisis,''l occurs in some form in most clinical programs and is complicated by the highly personal and value-laden religious material of spiritual direction. People tend to enter such programs with some infection from the cultural stereotype of the spiritual director as wise, holy, and powerful. Whether they measure themselves positively or negatively against this icon and its expectations, participants very often exhibit regressive behav-ior when a supervisor starts to look at the details of their work. Initial confidence or self-doubt may turn into their opposites when otherwise successful and competent people find themselves scrutinized as they assume their new roles. For our purposes it is important to notice that (1) participants may extraordinarily and unrealistically accept or challenge the foundational elements and philosophy of the program; (2) this is an expectable and wel-come development, rather than something to be avoided, and demands staff understanding, unity, and participation; and (3) this "narcissistic crisis" is primarily an individual issue (in that it will configure itself quite differently in each person's experience), but it can easily--and erroneously--be generalized into a broader dis-satisfaction with the program when it catches similar issues in other participants. The resistance of this phase of practicum training often sounds like rebellion or despair: "I have heard all this before." "I am never going to do this right." "There are lots of ways of doing spiritual direction that you're not giving us." "Tell me what I should have said to this directee." At heart these are often state-ments about the personal difficulties individuals are encountering as their self-esteem experiences some dismantling in supervision or in their comparing themselves with more polished perfor-mances from peers or the staff. So the staff must be keen not to mistake them either for genuine criticism or for signs of genuine understanding of the program's foundational elements. This resis-tance, when felt by a group (either the participants or the staff), can swamp and drown gentler voices of moderation and carries within itself strong "we versus them" projections that must be understood and treated as such by the staff lest they polarize the 42 Review for Religious program. Supervisors need to look beneath the manifest behavior to the personal and professional issues that are awakening. Successful negotiation of this "crisis" can be difficult for a staff, testing its team cohesiveness with urges to side with or against certain participants, and its willingness to recognize and respond flexibly to genuine criticism. Supervisors are idealized, identified with, then ignored or renounced--made into idols and then melted down! Erosion of his or her own self-esteem and professional identity can tempt a staff member to clear up a super-visee's anxiety and confusion rather than work with it as appropriate to this stage of learning, or perhaps to respond in anger, or to exaggerate or minimize the real demands of the program. The very survival of the supervisory staff may hinge upon its having done its work in the following two areas. First, a shared understanding of and desire to work with the foundational philosophy and pedagogy of the program is impera-tive and should not be taken for granted. While diversity of background and ideas can enrich a training program, all mem-bers of the staff will need to understand A participant who finds support, challenge, and growing peership in supervision will grow away from dependence on the supervisor and the institution represented in the practicum. the particular goals being sought when the going gets tough. New staffs need to put aside valuable time to discuss and haggle over what they mean by spiritual direction and training directors, and ongoing staffs could profit from a devil's advocate brought con-sciously into their midst. Second, it is of critical importance that the supervisory work of each staff member be open to the others, and in some detail. For the welfare of the program's participants and for the profes-sional development of the staff, the work they do with partici-pants needs itself to be supervised with the same focus on the presenting person as described earlier. They will need to know and trust each other's work when some of the dynamics detailed here begin to operate, or at least to have a forum in which to challenge and change one another. If the goal of a practicum is the integration of supervised January-February 1992 43 Keegan ¯ Spiritual-Direction Practicum learning into one's own personal style of doing spiritual direc-tion, then the participants' success or failure in resolving this cri-sis could be crucial to their development as spiritual directors. If supervisors maintain only a mentor's stance and never allow their own mistakes and biases to be dealt with, or if the program appears inflexible, participants may perceive little room to blend what they have learned into their particular personalities. The result can be either a defensive posture against the program and its goals or a need to maintain one's connection with it in order to feel competent. On the other hand, a participant who finds support, challenge, and growing peership in supervision will grow away from dependence on the supervisor and the institution repre-sented in the practicum. Toward the end of a successful year, for instance, a supervisee said with some force, "I am going to park this whole damn program and get out and walk!" The remark, articulating his desire to integrate his learning with his own stride, would have told quite a different story--and been far less wel-come- at the beginning of the year. At some point any trained spiritual director will have to ques-tion the basic principles of his or her training, experiment with them, and integrate what is of substance into a personal, distinc-tive style of doing spiritual direction. A practicum can impart the skills and qualities needed in a spiritual director. A better practicum can aim to help qualified directors to be themselves in the practice of direction. Conclusion Inasmuch as we are heirs of the Judeo-Christian legacy, spir-itual directors are face-to-face with an extremely delicate task: to facilitate the self-revelation of the incomprehensible God. While we know that anything we assert about this unsearchable God must be taken back immediately as inadequate, human words and gestures are what we have to work with in the place of awed silence. The God who is omnipresent is also most concrete. The unknowable God has chosen to be known and has, in our Scriptures, revealed a personality, desires, and hopes. God has a divine Name and entrusts it to Moses and Israel (Ex 3). God is tender and caring as a mother or a father (Is 43, 49; Ho 11), pas-sionately angry (Am 5), or desperately sad (Jr 14). Able spiritual directors are women and men who have explored and become 44 Review for Religious responsible for their own personalities and have, to some degree, integrated that with the ministry to which they have been called. They can dare to approach the intimate experience of another person and, above all, the Person of God, with humility and expec-tation. Before them is the task of reverencing the mystery while exploring the everyday events in which the mysterious personal-ity of God becomes incarnate, in a sense continuing by that very work the loving thrust of God into even the smallest details of earthly life. Our tradition makes clear that such discernment arises from and is verified in the community of believers. A practicum in spir-itual direction, then, can be more than a training ground. At its best it can be a microcosm of the People of God, an instance of the kind of critical believing community without which we dare not claim to know in our own lives--nor to help others know-- what God is saying here and now. Note ~ See Baird K. Brightman PhD, "Narcissistic Issues in the Training Experience of the Psychotherapist," International Journal of Psychoanalytic Psychotherapy 12 (1983). Narcissism is discussed as a dynamic element in the struggle for psychic growth, involving "a positive libidinal feeling toward the self" or the maintenance of self-esteem in the face of the erosion of one's grandiose professional self and of one's pro-jection of perfection onto others, namely, the staff, the supervisor. Brightman sees a clinical program "as a developmental period of adult-hood with its own characteristic tasks and demands, and therefore the potential for evoking the conflicts, fixations, and defenses of the preced-ing life stages (as well as the potential for further growth)." January-February 1992 45 CHARLES REUTEMANN On Becoming a Discerning Person Through Spiritual Direction hese reflections are a practical commentary on a short passage from the prophet Jeremiah: "More tortuous than all else is the human heart, beyond remedy; who can understand it? I, the Lord, alone probe the mind and test the heart" (Jer 17:9). The image of "journey" as a way of describing day-to-day movement towards self-knowledge, towards intimacy with God, and towards a generous love and service of neighbor has been popular in most ages and many cultures. Among written descrip-tions are The Pilgrim's Progress, The Ascent of Mount Carmel, The Road Less Traveled, the journey into The Interior Castle, and the four-week journey of the Exercises of St. Ignatius. Even the life of Jesus is presented to us as a journey: with Mary and Joseph from Nazareth to Bethlehem; from Bethlehem to Egypt and then back to Nazareth; from Nazareth to other parts of Galilee and to Judea and Samaria; and finally that fatal last journey up to Jerusalem, and then out to the whole world. In particular, the Gospel of Luke-Acts is cast as a splendid journey story. In the Gospel it is like a great bus ride, with Jesus as driver, gathering up all the poor and the outcasts: smelly shepherds, tax collectors, prostitutes, fishermen, cripples, widows, the blind, the possessed-- all are gathered and brought on the journey to that symbolic holy Charles Reutemann FSC is on the staff of the Center for Spirituality and Justice, a training center in the Bronx for spiritual directors. For six-teen years he was director of Sangre de Cristo Renewal Center in Santa Fe, New Mexico. He resides at Manhattan College and his address is 5050 Fieldstone Road; Riverdale, New York 10471. 46 Review for Religious place Jerusalem. Then in Acts there is another bus ride, and the driver is the Holy Spirit sent by Jesus, gathering more outcasts: eunuchs, sailors, tent makers, prison guards, merchants--all on a bus ride leading to Rome, that symbol of the whole world. Life is a journey, and the most engrossing part is the interior journey of our soul. Our soul's journey--what is it like? Is it merely a random alternation of ups and downs, of going forward and falling back, and then more of the same? Or is there a pattern and a meaning to it? One major spiritual tradi-tion sees our journey as a line, a kind of one-direc-tional climbing of a hill with many slippings and risings. Another and perhaps better spiritual tra-dition sees the spiritual journey as a spiral, as something like the liturgical-year cycle in which we keep moving through the seasons, the seasons of the year, the seasons of our life, the seasons of the life of Jesus, ever moving deeper. With Jesus we move through his birth, early years, public life, conflict life, death, and resurrection. As we touch and live through the seasons of Jesus' life, never boring nor repetitious, we live through the sea-sons of our life, a kind of spiral journeying, touching the same places inside us, but never really the same, as we go deeper, ever trying to find the answers to those two great questions of all life: What does it all mean? and what shall I do with my love? No, we never remain the same on our soul journey, even though our days pass one after the other in twenty-four-hour regularity. This is our interior spiritual journey, fascinating and mysterious. Are there things that we notice as we circle slowly about, things that are happening to us, things that move us forward? and other things that seem to block our way? Of course! First of all, one of the things that all of us recognize and that spiritual guides are most attentive to is our freedom. How much inner freedom do we find in us as the years go by: freedom from our compul-sions, addictions, fixed ways of looking at things? And somehow we also recognize that we cannot will our freedom--it is some-thing that happens, like Topsy, or the Velveteen Rabbit. Another thing we may become aware of as we move along, and it is much akin to freedom, is detachment: Are we really beginning to lose our ego, to lose that self-regarding self?. I cannot forget some- Life is a journey, and the most engrossing part is the interior journey of our soul. January-February 1992 47 Reutemann ¯ Becoming a Discerning Person Our prayer shows us what road we are and what direction we are facing on that road. thing I heard many years ago from an English university profes-sor. We were doing a workshop in Dublin, and one day he casu-ally mentioned that he was teaching history to Mother Teresa's novices in a convent outside of London. "Oh," I said, "and what kind of woman is Mother Teresa?" He paused a moment and then slowly said, "She's a woman who has lost her ego." I have never forgotten that. What a marvelous achievement, and what a lifelong process! A third thing we might begin to notice as we move along on our journey is what motivates us. Are we really begin-ning to live more and more by faith, seeing things through Gospel values and truths, gradually find-ing ourselves more like St. Paul when he cries out, "I live! no, not I, but Christ is beginning to live in me"? There may be other signs that we notice about our inner selves: a certain simplicity, a movement towards integrity--but wait a minute! Are we aware of what we have been saying: ing freedom, noticing detachment, noticing living by faith? Now that is something to notice! Is it possible to become a more noticing person? And there we have the magic word, discernment! Noticing is discernment; a noticing heart is a discerning heart. Or is it a discerning head? Or is it both? Let us pause to look at the other expression in our reflection, "spiritual direction." We all need direction, especially if we find ourselves in an unknown land of many roads, like some parts of the Bronx, or downtown Boston, or Jersey City. And the same is true of our interior life, our spirit life. Most of us know exactly what St. Paul is talking about when he exclaims: "I don't know where I'm going. I don't do the good things I want to do; instead, I do the evil I don't want to do. My inner being delights in the law of God; but I am aware of a different law that is at work in me, that fights against the law that my mind approves of. It makes me a prisoner to the law of sin which is at work in me. What an unhappy person I am! Who will rescue me from this road that is taking me to death? Who will show me the way?" (Rm 7:15-24, adapted). Everyone on the spiritual journey of life needs direction, needs some guidance for the spirit. We know there are various maps to help us find this direction: spiritual books and magazines 48 Review for Religqous that we can study and learn by, especially that great map, the Holy Bible, which has directed more people in the whole world than any other--and still does. Another source of direction is our own prayer, our struggle to be quiet and to reflect, our crying out "Give me guidance today, O Lord!" Our prayer shows us what road we are on, and what direction we are facing on that road. And then there is another source, something that has been practiced in all cultures and religions, namely, the conversation between two people about the interior life and its ways. This con-versation is frequently called "spiritual direction." To a woman coming to me for such direction, I once said, as we faced each other in a relaxed setting, "And zvhy do you want spiritual direc-tion?" She was startled, but after a moment's silence she leaned forward and said, "I want to become more real." I was startled by the beauty of her response. Then I said: "And what would it mean for you to become more real?" Again she was thoughtful: "Well, I have this friend whose mother has Alzheimer's disease. Every time I see her when she's walking with her mother, she is smiling." So it is that some people seek spiritual direction, a conversa-tion with another adult about their values and their God, because they have seen something beautiful in another person and they want to be like that. They are challenged to fill up what is want-ing in themselves, to grow, to go deeper, to become more real. Other people, like myself when I first sought direction many years ago, recognize that, although they want God in their lives, they get careless and easily become distracted, even choked, by the anxieties and cares of the world. They need someone to talk with about their desire for God, someone to be accountable to--so that, in the very telling of their stow, they may be strengthened in their resolve and receive clarity about the paths to God. Others seek spiritual direction because they are troubled: there is a crisis in their lives. It may be a relationship, it may be a major decision about a vocational choice, it may be an addiction. But always this crisis is affecting the sense of God in their lives: Does God understand? Where is God? Am I on the right path? More tortuous than all else is the human heart. Where is the direction? They need the Lord to probe their mind and test their heart. For others, things are not all that clear. There is no crisis, but there seems to be something missing. The refrain "Is that all there is?" rings through their lives. They have had no other adult January-February 1992 49 Reutemann ¯ Becoming a Discerning Person with whom they can talk values. And so, finding themselves drift-ing, uncertain, lacking meaning, they seek direction. From all of this, can we now say that we have some sense of what spiritual direction looks like, at least in a Christian setting and in today's world? It is a conversation between two adults in which one is seeking some guidance on the path to God and the meaning of life. It is not idle chatter, nor even problem solving, though it is about the ordinary things of life: communication, liv-ing situation, working conditions, relationships. It takes time, honesty, and a spiritual sense. It is one of the gifts of the Spirit for forming the Christian and the Christian community. Can we say anything about the guide, the spiritual director? Like all guides, it would seem that the guide should have some training, some expertise, and that he or she should also be receiv-ing spiritual direction on the pilgrim road. We would want a knowledgeable person, someone familiar with the inner move-ments of the heart, the roadways, possessing some skills that might avoid pitfalls, especially the skill of listening to where the person wants to go--listening is so important, and it is a listening that goes beyond ideas and words and focuses on feelings and desires. Every pilgrim on the spiritual journey is best known by his or her desires and feelings, and the guide must be attentive to them. The director need not be a holy person, but he or she must be a seeker of God, one who prays regularly and who has a vision of faith. Lastly, the spiritual guide must really have the interests of the pilgrim at heart, and thus must be patient, humble, and under-standing. It is God who gives the increase, it is God who sends down the rain to water the paths. Can we say anything about what a spiritual-direction session would look like? Well, obviously, the directee would come pre-pared, that is, ask herself beforehand: Where has God been in my life since last we met? What have been some of my responses? As 1 reflect, what might I like from this session? Can I say any-thing about my prayer or about something that has struck me? The session itself can last forty-five minutes to an hour, but no longer than that and possibly shorter. When someone begins direction, it is helpful that the meetings be somewhat frequent: each week or every other week. Then, after three or four meet-ings, the space can be lengthened to three or four weeks. And, of course, to get the most benefit, the directee would take time to write down and even pray over what has been noteworthy in the 50 Review for Religious session. Let me illustrate this point. It is rare that I receive letters from my directees, but recently I did receive one that reads in part like this: "Mainly just want to tell you how much I have come to value our sessions. Thanks very much for your interest, atten-tion, and care in helping me to come to know the Lord better in my life. I believe it is also helping me to communicate that kind of experience to others whom I meet in the course of my own work and ministry, my own life. I guess what occasions this, in addition to the gratitude, is that I just wrote up for myself, as I usually do, a little summary of the points that we talked about . And I was surprised to see how wide-ranging it was, and the depth too, and the com-monalities among the points .Certain themes do begin to appear after a time . " Of course, a director or guide prepares too, by prayer, by reflection, and sometimes by written observations that help chart the inner movements on the directee's journey and the basic direction. Let me now say some more about "discernment" and then try to relate it to how spiritual direction ought to be helping us become more discerning persons. Frequently individuals and even whole groups, when faced with a major decision, will say, "You know, I (we) have to discern that"; and then they start some pro-cess to which they give the name "discernment." Is that what dis-cernment is, something we do when we have to make a big decision? Yes and no. I like to call decision making a "choosing" that gets into the will and into the feeling part of me. Of course, as I do that, I need to weigh things before I say yes to what I choose. I also like it when Karl Rahner says, "There are no big decisions; there are only bundles of little decisions." He seems to be suggesting that we are making little choices all along, choices coming from our feelings and our thinking, perhaps more from one than the other. So discernment is something we can practice in those little choices that might eventually get into a bundle for a big choice. And discernment therefore could become some kind of a habit of noticing my feelings and testing their reasonable-ness,~ that is, whether or not they are leading me to my better self and to my God or leading me away, down some primrose path to my ego self. We should try to become a discerning person in the ordinary times and in the little choices, for discernment is 'There are no big decisions; there are only bundles of little decisions.' January-February 1992 51 Reutemann ¯ Becoming a Discerning Person not the kind of thing we can start practicing when we need to make a big decision. When asked "Who is the holy person?" the Lord Buddha answered: "There are sixty minutes to the hour, and sixty seconds to each minute, and sixty fractions of a second to each second. If anyone could be fully present in each fraction of each second, that person would be a holy person." Awareness leading to rightmindedness. Noticing, testing, leading to choice. For most of us, growth in self-knowledge occurs when we take more notice of our feelings and name them. For, although we may be deeply feeling people, most of our conscious life is taken up with thought: making observations, giving our opinions, try-ing to figure out what we are to do. But does this get down to the deeper self, the desiring self, the hoping and choosing self?. Spiritual directors need to assess this so that they come to see the necessity of helping directees uncover feelings and name them. But it is equally necessary that people test with their heads the inner reasonableness of their feelings: W~here are they coming from? Are they leading to or away from God? Can we conclude then that in discernment it would be a mis-take to separate our feelings from our knowledge-insight? that it would be a mistake to consider our feelings as better criteria for discernment and decision making? and, finally, that we make a mistake when we overlook the possibility that, although operat-ing out of our heads can distort the spiritual journey, living only by feelings or feeling-insights, "spiritual hunches" if you will, can be equally distortive? ~ But perhaps we are getting too theoretical. Let me give some examples of how spiritual direction can help someone become a more discerning person. Peter is an ordained minister who is beginning spiritual direction. He says he is overburdened by the work of an inner-city parish. In several sessions he mentions his hope that the spiritual direction will give him an answer to his "burnout." The spiritual director can help Peter examine his day, note areas that might be curtailed, and perhaps even recommend that he change ministries. Another way to go is to examine with Peter his feelings about his situation: What are the feelings? anger? sadness? self-pity? feeling abandoned and alone? He might then be asked whether the different feelings (not his work nor the situation in general) are leading him to God or away from God. This question needs to be asked with careful nuances. It is here, too, that the exchange can become prayerful. Most people 52 Review for Religious never examine their feelings with God. They may mention them to God, but they never explore how God reacts or even feels about their feelings. It is almost as though God were "over there," observing things, but never really empathetic, never really involved in their feelings, especially "negative" ones like anger, sadness, and self-pity. Is it possible that, as Peter explores his feelings about his burnout, he might become more aware, more discerning about his inner movements and the direction in which they are taking him: to God? away from God? Is it possi-ble, too, that out of this awareness some clarity about practical decisions affecting his burnout might come to him? Can we see how some kind of disciplined willing-ness to look at our feelings and testing their reasonableness with God is central to dis-cernment? Can we also see that it is a chal-lenge to the spiritual director to encourage directees, especially those who operate out of their head (as most of us do), to take this route? It is indeed a real challenge, even hard work. Maria has been coming for direction for several years. She is energetic, has a sense of humor, and talks with verve and rapid-ity. She actively seeks God, even seems to wrestle with him in a verbal kind of way. One day she comes and blurts out: "Where am I in my relationship with God? I am becoming more and more clearly aware of my sinfulness--not vague sinfulness, but specific sins and definite sinfulness. I realize I can do nothing good. I wonder why he bothers with me. And yet I am at peace with this; I don't feel upset by this. And then, when I go into poor neigh-borhoods and see all the people and the poverty and suffering, I wonder if there is a God. I doubt that there can be a God. No, I just don't believe there is a God." She stops and looks at the direc-tor as though to say, "Now solve that!" Clearly, the spiritual director cannot solve anything, nor should she try. Yet there is a "way out." In listening to Maria, the director needs also to listen to herself, noting any movements that are taking place within herself as she listens to Maria. She notices a twinge in her heart when Maria says, "I wonder why he bothers with me." Acting on that, and by patient questioning, the All growth in the spiritual life is strongly rooted in desire, and it is from desire that commitment flows. January-February 1992 53 Reutemann ¯ Becoming a Discerning Person director explores: "Why do you wonder? What is that like? What are you feeling as you wonder that? And God, what might she be feeling as you realize within yourself that you can do nothing good by yourself?." Following this, there might be the opportunity to look closely at the poor, the suffering, and the abandoned and to wonder with Maria whether God bothers with them as she does with her. And then it might be possible to ask Maria: "Are you aware of God asking anything of you in all of this? Do you and God have anything in common here?" Helping a person sort out movements within, even seemingly contradictory movements like peace and sinfulness, compassion for the poor and disbelief in God, is exactly what spiritual direction and its discernment is all about. Other examples of this sorting-out process could be given; but perhaps it is time to make some summary observations about spiritual direction and becoming a discerning person. 1. Formal spiritual direction allows someone to articulate experiences. The central element in experiences, however, is feel-ings and, ultimately, the desires associated with those feelings. All growth in the spiritual life is strongly rooted in desire, and it is from desire that commitment flows. 2. When spiritual direction is focused on discerning the inner movements, then ordinarily connections can be made, themes and tendencies become apparent, and a sense of a desirable direc-tion becomes clear. When this occurs over time, a feeling of ener-gized peace develops on the journey. This becomes evident when remarks like these are made at the end of a direction session: "You're the only one I can talk with on this level--it means a lot to me." "This has been a very insightful session today--it hangs together." "My retreat experience has become more real to me after our talking about it. Things are working out." 3. When discernment is being practiced in spiritual direc-tion, there frequently occur corrections in judgments that directees make about themselves, especially negative judgments. In other words, a positive realistic outlook about the self develops. In addition, the Achilles' heel--that blocking, negative orientation which keeps recurring--generally gets discovered, and this allows for appropriate strategies to deal with it. 4. Practicing discernment with the assistance of a spiritual director encourages a disciplined willingness to check out feel-ings, name them, and test them against reality, that is, test their Review for Religious inner rationality. In this way we discover whether our feelings and what underlies them are leading us to God and our better self, or away from God into darkness and confusion. 5. Insight alone rarely changes people. Action, or commit-ment to trying to live differently, often does change people. Hence, it is not sufficient that our discerning be merely an aware-ness. Motivated desires and even specific tasks need to follow awareness, and so it can be said that discernment and decision making work together for growth in the spiritual life. 6. From all of the above, hopefully we can see that the goal of spiritual direction is to develop a discerning person who func-tions thus outside of the spiritual-direction relationship, some-one who moves with clarity in the direction of active love. Hopefully, too, those two basic questions of the life journey: What does it all mean? and what shall I do with my love? will find bet-ter, clearer answers. Note 1 See pp. 36-37 of Michael J. O'Sullivan sJ, "Trust Your Feelings, but Use Your Head: Discernment and the Psychology of Decision Making," Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, 22/4 (September 1990). I have been helped in my thinking about the interrelationship of feeling and thought in discernment by this article. The Light at the End of the Year Snow has fallen. Day is dark With the early coming on of night; December's darkness fin& its only spark Of brilliance in the Christmas light. Gray as our winter lives become, and stark With harshest turns of weather, bright Is the year's blessed ending. Mark! Now the starburst at earth's Eastward height. Nancy G. Westerfield January-February 1992 55 BRIAN O'LEARY Discernment and Decision Making Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is--his good, pleasing, and perfect will (Rm 12:2). exposing the influence that a projected course of action will have on one's relationship to God in Christ. It is not, therefore, some kind of generalized awareness of God or of his presence, but an insertion into a process--the process of finding and owning the will of God or, in other words, of Christian decision making. A dis-cernment which does not lead to a decision is incomplete, has been aborted at some point along the way. When a decision has been reached, it becomes a concrete expression, an incarnation of one's desire to respond to God's love and to serve his kingdom. Personal Freedom In spite of the laudable wishes of many Christians to move away from an

Issue 51.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1992. ; Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 6 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ° 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 6 contents religious life directions 806 Journeying Together in Faith Paul K. Hennessy CFC sets forth three themes from the Israelite covenant experience pertinent to religious life. 815 Communities of Hope Donna Markham OP suggests a dynamic of'religious life in terms of bringing forth a new way of life based on collaboration, mutuality, and respect. 823 The Service of Lay Associates Patricia McNicholas OSU examines different responses to the trend of religious communities sponsoring associate membership programs. dialogue ministry 830 Inculturation as Dialogue Diana Taufer SC suggests that interculturation better describes the task of church ministers in working among the Na~:ive American peoples. 839 Jewish-Catholic Dialogue since Vatican II Alan Altany describes how both Jews and Catholics approach the dialogue and also what dynamics the continuing dialogue will involve. formation and ministry 854 The Media and the Good News Patil F. Harman SJ challenges the Christian disciple to enter into the communications media with imagination and fortitude. 866 The Core of Ministry Laura Morgan FMSC discovers a garden of olives as the meeting place between God and us. 870 Spirituality in the Puebla Document Juan Ram6n Moren6 SJ ~aighlights the fundamental traits of a spirituality that is moving the Latin American church. 802 Review for Religious values and virtues 882 Confidentiality: Erosion and Restoration James F. Keenan SJ underscores the standard norms of confiden-tiality when therapy involves a client, a therapist, and a religious superior and community. 895 Detachment: The Enclosed Garden of the Soul Judy Bush describes various forms of everyday detachments by which God leads us to closer union. 906 The Spirit at Play Kenneth Homan describes how God's Spirit encourages us to become playful stewards. prayer and life 911 Iconoclasm for Holiness' Sake Julie Hollitt FDNSC ventures through iconoclasm to discover the extraordinary with the ordinary. 916 Four Types of Prayer Anthony H. Ostini SJ presents four ways of praying traditional in the church. 920 Broken Arrows Joseph F. Nassal CPPS reflects on a solitude necessary for heal-ing and transforming our life together. departments 804 Prisms 927 Canonical Counsel: Secular Institutes 933 Book Reviews 951 Indexes to Volume 51 November-December 1992 803 prisms ~henever we celebrate the feast of Christmas, we come face-to-face with our ways of imaging and under-standing God. Drawing close to a baby in a manger does not seem difficult for young or old, for shepherds or the-ologians. Yet the implications of such an imaging need to be appropriated anew by people in every age and culture. The Christmas tableau challenges our way of evalu-ating ourselves, our relationships with others, and our own response to God. People of our time, we find it nat-ural to stress our personal gifts and talents; we look to our strength in self-image and our self-reliance in thought and action. And, yes, we are made aware of a lot of proper healthy correctives given to us today by the psychological sciences. We are encouraged to pull our own strings, to be confrontative and even aggressive in pursuing our goals. Yet the angels' trumpeted Gloria above a stable reminds us that human dignity and personal choice are not values without restrictions or limits. Today our relationship with God centers often on gender-imaging, but with the result that something like "the force be with you" expresses the compromise of a god-without-a-face. In the midst of some overly serious abstract arguments and of our age's all-too-limiting focus on personal expe-rience comes a human baby named Jesus, whose mother is Mary. Each time we place ourselves in wonder before this creche, we are enabled to glimpse some of the deepest realities about divine and human life. Jesus comes to us as poor and humble. He is poor, not only because like any baby he is totally dependent for food and shelter on others, but also because he incarnates God's chosen way of relating to us. Jesus shows us a God who 804 Review for Religious truly needs us, who waits upon our response, who suffers our indifference as well as our petty insistences on making gods more to our own liking. Jesus brings home to us that God is not a mighty one who delights in hurling lightning bolts or an impas-sive one seated on a cloud and forever lost in contemplation. We rejoice in being led to a God who has chosen to make himself so needy that our efforts can fill what is still lacking in the redemp-tive act and that our prayers and our actions do build up the com-munity of the city of God. In fact, in recognizing such a God, we know that being poor is not a curse but a grace that makes us more like God. When we recognize our neediness as a fact in our relation to others and to God, then our poverty is truly becoming our graced choice. We are becoming like Jesus; divinity becomes us. Again like any poor person, the Son of Mary and the car-penter must labor for the necessities of life. He will say that every-thing he has is gift given by the one he knows as Abba, but at the same time, because this God is one who works, Jesus matter-of-factly professes "I work." And from the very beginning Jesus calls others to labor with him--so reminiscent of that creation account of God asking the first humans to work in bringing the garden to a greater fruitfulness. Jesus again brings home to all of us that God is the first of collaborators. If we want to grow more in the divine life, our direction is clear. To work with oth-ers is the dynamic of Christian living--in families, in workplaces, in parishes and religious communities, in ecumenical endeavors, in civil society. To celebrate Christmas is not to seek escape into magical stars and angels singing and plum puddings and once-a-year friendly greetings. We Christians worship a God who chooses to be poor like us so that we might make a similar choice and thus realize a richness which can only be God's gift. We Christians step for-ward to take on the responsibility of collaboration with God for the coming of the kingdom; like our God, we catch sight of our real selves not in doing our good works for others, but always in acting with others. God so loved the world., and in our so liv-ing and in our so working we make real our love for God, our-selves, our neighbor, and our world. That this be the Christmas grace for us all is the prayer of the editorial staff. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 1992 805 PAUL K. HENNESSY Journeying Together in Faith religious life directions A joint assembly of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) and the Conference of Major Superiors of Men (CMSM) was held August 26-30, 1992 in Greensboro, North Carolina. This article and the one which follows are the addresses of the presidents of CMSM and LCVV~R. The theme we set for ourselves, "Now is the Time . . . Religious Life at a Moment of Kairos," is calling us to a journey in faith. Contemporary congregational leaders need to journey frequently. Ministry to our sisters and brothers and those they serve requires more than a tele-phone and a fax. For communities with personnel spread far and wide, frequent-flyer credits build up quickly. One of my personal rules of travel, especially in developing countries, where bus or airplane delays can be inter-minable, is to be involved in a good novel. Ever since I read The Day of the Jackal many years ago, I have been attracted to Frederick Forsyth's books. While waiting in JFK Airport in New York before a five-week visit to our South American communities recently, I began his Deceiver. In this three-part novel, an older German gendeman spy falls in love with a much younger prostitute, whom he later kills because of her infidelity. The novel's protagonist, Sam McCready, consults a psychiatrist about Paul K. Hennessy CFC, provincial of the Eastern American province of the Congregation of Christian Brothers, is midway through his two-year term as president of Conference of Major Superiors of Men. His address is 21 Pryer Terrace; New Rochelle, New York 10804-4499. 806 Review for Religious possible reactions this fellow, spy may have, since he needs him to complete a job. The German has disappeared. The ensuing dia- 10gue struck me as pertinent on many levels and precipitated some thoughts ~:or this address, which I wrote in Peru, a country very close to God in its poverty and dependence and, therefore, ani-mated by wonderful hope. The passage is as follows: "Fugue," Dr. Carr purst~ed as he speared a forkful of tender sole meuni~re, "means flight. Flight from reality, especially ~iarsh, unpleasant reality. I think your man will by now be in a really bad way." "What will he actually do?" asked McCready. "Where will he go?" "He will go to a sanctuary, somewhere he feels safe, ~ome,where he can hide, where all the problems will go away and people will leave him alone. He may even return to a Childlike state. I had a patient once who, overcome by prob-lems, returned to tied, curled into the fetal position, stuck his thumb in his mouth, and stayed there. Wouldn't come out. Childlike, you see. Safety, security. No problems. Excellent sole, by the way. Yes, a little more Meursault. Thank you." Each of us, I am sure, encounters people, inside or outside our communities, who prefer to look to the future through the rear-' view mirror: "Let's go back to where we were. Times really haven't changed." Underlying this, of course, is the implication that the past was better than the present. As we know, such comparisons can involve value judgments about loyalty and authenticity. As I journeyed aboizt South America and reflected upon the struggle inherent in continual conversions and authentic renewal and i'efounding, I could not help reflecting upon the journey our ancestors in faith, the Israelites, were called to make from Egypt to Canaan, from the old to the new. Are we not also daughters and sons ot the covenant? Three themes fr6m the covenant experience, from covenant theology, seem especially pertinent to us today: first, God's initiative in creation, in vocation, i.n pouring forth wisdom and giving.us discerning hei~rts; second, the attraction of returning to Egypt from the confusion of the journey, but the irresponsibiiity of doing so; third, the promise, which is faithful and immutable. Although the two creation narratives in Genesis differ sub-stantially in origin and in content, the common element.is that the initiative is God's. "In the beginning, when God created the heav-ens and the earth, the earth was a formless wasteland, and dark- Nove~nber-December 1992 807 Hennessy ¯ Journeying Together in Faith ness covered the abyss, while a mighty wind swept over the waters. Then God said . . ." (Gn 1:1-3). In the second account: "At the time when the Lord God made the earth and the heavens, while as yet there was no field shrub on earth and no grass of the field had sprtuted., the Lord God formed man." (Gn 2:4a-7). The belief of our biblical forebears was that God is the initiator of all that is good and meaningful. We have the capacity to be selfish, to be confused about who is in charge. We have the capacity to sin, bu~ we cannot create something new without God. The call of the great leader Moses, together with his sister Miriam and his brother Aaron, is forthrightly a call, a vocation, from God. The call to minister, to lead, is not one we take upon ourselves. "Come, now! I will send you to Pharaoh to lead my people, the Israelites, out of Egypt" (Ex 3:10). Throughout the Scriptures we are reminded that, in some mysterious and yet direct way, it is God who calls and sends forth: Abraham and Sarah; Hannah and her son, Samuel; David; Zechariah and Elizabeth; Mary and, yes, Jesus. "Then a voice came from the heavens: 'You are my beloved Son. On you my favor rests.' At that point the Spirit sent him out toward the desert [and he was] put to the test there by Satan" (Mk 1:11-13). While Solomon is the prototype of dependence on God for wisdom and understanding, the theme runs throughout our Scriptures. The forceful poetic rendition of this message in chap-ter 38 of the Book of Job is one I heard a retreat master recite from memory: "Then the Lord addressed Job out of the storm and said: Who is this that obscures divine plans with words of ignorance? Gird up your loins now, like a man; I will question you, and you tell me the answers! Where were you when I founded the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding" and so forth. Note in a much different context the wise advice of Gamaliel before the Sanhedrin after the apostles are tried: "My advice is that you have nothing to do with these men. Let them alone. If their purpose or activity is human in its origins, it will destroy itself. If, on the other hand, it comes from God, you will not be able to destroy them without fighting God" (Ac 5:38-39). The author of this account clearly understands the prophetic statement as an inspired one. The duty of a leader is to search prayerfully for the wisdom which is of God and not to depend on that wisdom which is solely our own. This leads us to the discernment of spirits. The spirit in our 808 Review for Religious Scriptures, which are the testimony of the faith of our Jewish and Christian forebears, is always a fructifying one which leads us to integrity and joy. Note in Psalm 1 that the person who delights in the law of God and meditates on it day and night is like a tree planted near running water that yields fruit in due season and whose leaves never fade. Integrity and joy as well as peace and kindness are always hall-marks of the Spirit's presence (see Ga 5:22- 26). The Book of Sirach reminds us that people who open their lips in prayer and ask pardon for sin will be filled with the spirit of understanding and will pour forth words of wisdom and give thanks to the Lord (see Si 39:6). What is the application of all this for leadership in religious communities in today's world, especially here in the United States? Clearly, we must be people of faith and hope supported by prayer: faith that the God who worked in unexpected and wonderful ways in ages past has not deserted us; hope and prayer, because we have to have the courage to express our inabilities, our own sinfulness, and our own confidence in the promise. There is a natural concern in our societies today for new mem-bership, and we could be discouraged by a naive understanding of fruitfulness. Looking again at Psalm 1, we note that the tree by the running water does not clone or multiply itself. It ~inks even deeper roots into the fertile ground so that its own integrity is more secure--reminding us that the quality of our religious lives depends on us and that we have control over it in ways in which we cannot control the number of members. There is a clear hunger among us for a greater understanding of contemplation and its fundamental place in our own spiritual lives. In our common discernment in Louisville in 1989, it was identified as one of the most important Of the transformative ele-ments which would lead us to the next century. Last year it was the theme for the LCWR assembly in Albuquerque. There are voices which, without entering into our processes and our prayer, would criticize our direction. We cannot mistrust the movement of the Spirit which we leaders, numbering one thousand, experience. The quality of our religious lives depends on us, and we have control over it in ways in which we cannot control the number of members. Noventber-Decentber 1992 809 Hennessy ¯ ffourneying Togetber in Faith We must challenge ourselves and those we serve to form new communities of women and men, confessing their dependence on God's initiative and joyously reflecting God's beauty and wis-dom. This is a gotd ~hat clearly re.sponds to the creativity of Yahweh throughout our sacred history. In Louisville we identified the first three transformative elements as calls to prophetic wit- .ness, contemplation, and a clear Option fo.r the poor. Can we have go.tten closer to covenant theology? Reconsidering the advice of Gamaliel, we must be convinced that, if our "purpose or activity is human in origin, it wil! destroy itself." If, on the other hafid, it comes from God, "people will not be able to destroy it without fighting God." The Bdok of Exodus reflects our journey. It is a wonde.rful source for meditation. We read of high aspirations of fidelity and great sinfulness in cowardice and betrayal. I began this address with a quotation from Forsyth about a character tempted to reg,ress into the past. Do we not see this same confused longing among the Israelites? Do we not identify with Moses and Myriam? After all they have done to free the people from Egypt, in a short time, we are told, these same peopl.e "grumbled against Misses and Aaron" and said to them, "Would that we had died . . . in the land of Egypt, as we sat by our fleshpots and ate our fill of bread! Bu.t you had to lead us into the desert to make the wl~ole community die of famine" (Ex ~6:2-3). Over and over, lived experience depicted in literature, both sacred and secu!ar, reflects perennial wisdom that we can never go home a.gain. Sefin Sammon FMS, in his presidential address at the CMSM assembly in San Antonio last August, reflected the reac-tions of people in the midst of major periods of transition. Certain!y one of these is to deny there is change going on. Another is to blame the leader, as the Israelites did. I am quite confident that the vast majority of the communities of women and'men religious in the United States have maturely and prayer-fully addressed the impact of the changes in society on our con-secrated lives. I am sure we have made mistakes and are willing to admit them, but I feel that overall we have been on target. While it is natural that some members within our communities have not welcomed the changes necessitated by a changed society, we have also had to expend a lot of energy defending ourselves from crit-icisms from outside our commu.nities, from people who have not walked in our 'moccasins. This is unfortunate, and we may need to 810 Review for Religious be very careful that we do not neglect that prophetic leadership which the vast majority of our members has called us to give. We are called to let the individual founding charisms which brought our communities into existence shine brightly in a transformed society. I have been privileged for the last four years to serve in a leadership position in CMSM. This has brought me into close contact with the men and women leading both our conferences. I trust my experience. I have observed firsthand how mature and faith-filled women and men can come together to listen, to respect, to collaborate, and to grow in love. Together we have learned and we continue to learn about prayer, about witness, about the poor, about the environment, and about striving for peace based on justice. Many in this room were gathered in Louisville three years ago and experienced our solidarity about our future. Why should we doubt that God is leading us? Theologians have consistently identified the sensus fidelium, the prayerful and thoughtful experience of good Christians, as one of the focal points for determining the will of God. Let us trust our own experience and continue to move forward. Certainly, we can be misled at times individually and even collectively, but we do not seek easy answers. Jesus reserves his harshest criticism for those with easy answers. He does not always question their sincerity, although sometimes he does, but he reminds them that God is continually pouring forth new wisdom. The Pharisees were not bad people, but they were terrified of change. Their monolithic understanding, as devout as it may have been, did not allow God to continue to bring forth the new, to pour new wine into new wineskins. The desire to go back to Egypt may have been attractive in the midst of uncertainty, but was it faithful to the call? Almost twenty years ago Thomas E. Clarke SJ, the philoso-pher and writer, collected a series of his essays into a book enti-tled New Pentecost or New Passion? The Direction of Religious Life Today (Paulist, 1973). In the foreword he said: How are we to disengage Christian faith from the time-bound cultural expressions and vehicles of the past without the loss of integrity? That is indeed the question at the heart of the anguish, tensions, and polarizations character-istic of a period which has turned out to be as much a new Passion as a new Pentecost. No group in the church has November-December 1992 811 Hennessy ¯ Journeying Together in Faith had to deal with the question with greater seriousness than members of religious communities and particularly of American communities of religious women. In my opinion, these last represent the cutting edge of renewal and have yielded in the past several years the most courageous and intelligent leadership which we have in the church today. Our living God not only inspires and challenges us to seek faith-ful, even if difficult, answers. God also calls us to responsibility. The third and final theme from our covenant theology that I wish to note, although I have referred to it already, is that there is a promise of a future of peace, based on love and justice; this pledge is faithful and immutable. The German theology of hope of the 1950s and 60s (names like Moltmann, Pannenberg, and Metz come to mind) found its way, with some permutations, into a Latin American theology of liberation closer to our own time. In my recent visit to Peru, I was struck once again how these peo-ple are really hope-filled. It seems to me that the word esperanza appears in practically every hymn and popular song. That hope is not just for a better Peru or even for a mundo mejor, a better world; it is a deeply religious belief in a better life which will never end. The promise to Abram and Sarai that they would be led to "a land that I will show you" (Gn 12:1) is at the very heart of the pil-grim spirituality of the people of Israel and is their reason to hope. If God is faithful, so must Yahweh's people be. "Keep all the commandments, then, which I enjoin on you today, that you may be strong enough to enter in and take possession of the land into which you are crossing, and that you may have long life on the land which the Lord swore to your fathers [and mothers] he would give to them and their descendants, a land flowing with milk and honey" (Dt 11:8-9). Psalm 135 exhorts us to keep the faith, to have hope "because the covenant fidelity," the hesed of Yahweh, "endures forever." In a properly understood theology of hope, as in liberation theology, our expectation is neither passive nor blind. The prophets used many words and much energy reminding the peo-ple that they also were responsible for bringing about a better world through their industry and ingenuity. Jesus, too, stresses the personal responsibility of each of his followers to bring about a world in which the hungry are fed, the thirsty are assuaged, and the naked are clothed (see Mt 25). Nearly thirty years have passed since Martin Luther King Jr.'s 812 Reviem for Religious prophetic words resounded from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. Reflecting on the covenant promises expressed in the United States Constitution, that prophet reminded the pilgrims who marched on Washington that the reality had not yet come close to the vision set forth in the Constitution. King reminded the world that even the freedom associated with the name Abraham Lincoln was not yet realized for all races. Coming from the shadow of the massive likeness of Lincoln, King's words wafted like a liberating breeze across the mall on that warm August day in 1963. The phrase still echoes in my memory: "Now is the time . . . now is the time." In a properly understood theology of hope, prophetic leaders remind the people of the orig-inal covenant. They do not ignore the chasm that exists between the promise and the reality. They are neither shy in telling the story of the way things could be, nor unrealistic about the way things are. And because they are people of hope, they proclaim confidently and continu-ously, "Now is the time., now is the time." It is my conviction that those of us in roles of religious lead-ership are obligated to reflect upon the instrumental position we play in the realization of the promise. We must, first of all, rec-ognize our own absolute dependence on God, and therefore we must spend significant time in prayer. Without such prayer we take ourselves all too seriously. Prayer becomes especially neces-sary, it would seem, when conflicts and misunderstandings arise within our communities or in the broader sphere of the church, of which we are both members and leaders. At those times par-ticularly, the promise must be our consolation. We are each called upon to bring our talents, our insights, our faith, our ingenuity, and our industry to bear in order to assure that we are faithful to the Gospel of Jesus and the original inspirations of our founders and foundresses. Our continuing call is to discern the signs of our times. While I have emphasized that reverting to the past is not an option for people of the promise, we need to study those aspects of covenant theology which are our greatest challenges today. We must not be blind to the fact that our proven North American We have been called to a community in baptism; we are saved as a community. November-December 1992 813 Hennessy ¯ Journeying Together in Faitls individualism creates real problems for the communitarian empha-sis in salvation history. We have been called to a community in baptism; we are saved as a community. Our founders and foundresses called us to community. While we cannot return to a time which canonized uniformity and called it unity, we have a key role to play in our church and in the world; we need to witness to the transcendent value of unity in heart and mind witnessed pub-licly. Our various founders and foundresses had different inten-tions in this area, and so a monolithic understanding of community is inappropriate and indeed impossible. However, when the affinity of our members with one another is so loose that true community is more in the imagination than in reality, we might have missed the mark. I indeed believe that in this area very necessary self-critiques are taking place within our houses. What do we mean by common prayer, common life, and so forth? It is appropriate that the examinations be internal since we seek the original inspirations and intentions of our various founders and foundresses. I am certain that the call to real community is an essential part of the covenant between God and ourselves. I believe that religious are in a privileged position for witnessing to com-munity forthrightly. It is an opportunity we cannot neglect for the sake of a world and a church in which people are crying for meaning, affiliation, and fulfillment. The Scriptures, which we call "sacred," are written expres-sions of an experience of God which is normative for us. The 'faith experience that the Scriptures report is not very different from our own. We are called to journey, to be confident people on pilgrimage. God is both initiator and fulfillment. We are called to faithfulness, exhibited in common lives of joy, love, and hope. "Now is the time., now is the time." In Memoriam David J. Hassel sJ died in Chicago, Illinois, on 26 September 1992. Father Hassel, a well-known author and contributor to this journal, recendy completed his term as a member of our advisory board. Please remember him in your prayers. 814 Review for Religious DONNA MARKHAM Communities of Hope Mtaphor is a window into the heart of human desire nd longing. It reveals the human spirit as it fuses our deepest-he!d beliefs with our lived experience. Metaphor expresses the kernel of What has been forgotten, lost in the whirlwind of our distracted lives. It holds the power to break through all that stands in the way of the proclamation of truth. Metaphor is at the center of the power of the mystic, the therapist, and the artist tO effect profound healing and change at the core of the human spirit. Because it touches the center of truth, a metaphor inter-preted always provokes change. Consequently, metaphors are often very disturbing--both to the speak.er and to the listener. A metaphor disturbs because it cannot be pursued very far without our being led to the very boundaries of what is most "sacred. It cannot be g,rasped at the level of the intellect alone--it is an empathic resonance of the spirit, an expression of what is true. like a parable, metaphor uses ordinary language to exprgss the extraordinary truth of what it.means to be human. Community, as metaphor, expresses the truth of our longing for relationship, the best expression of our humanness. Com-munity enge.nders awe and wonder as it webs together hearts in a world where individualism, separatism, and nationalism collude to keep us isolated and disempowered. Central to the birthing of an alternative world grounded in compassion and justice, com-munity threatens the prevailing culture by drawing near to and Donna Markham OP recently completed her one-year term as the Leadership Conference of Women Religious president. Her address is 8808 Cameron Street; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. This presentation by the LCWR president (see introduction on page 806) was previously published in Origins 22, no. 14 (17 September 1992). November-December" 1992 815 Markham ¯ Communities of Hope conspiring with the transformative power of God. The presence of a community of hope disturbs and disquiets because it disrupts the social drift toward autonomy and self-sufficiency. It disturbs those of us who aspire to live it, and it unsettles the environment in which it is situated. It threatens change on every level and demonstrates that conversion and healing are, indeed, painful processes. Truly, community is a healing metaphor for a frag-mented world. It is not an option. It is an obligation essential for the survival of the planet. It is our obligation as religious women and men who have committed our lives to working for the reign of God in our world. The Prevailing Mood The most profound longings of our contemporary human spirit are variously contained in the language of critics, scholars, theologians, and poets--and those ordinary folks who are capable of verbalizing their inner pain. Repeatedly we find references to persons feeling alone and orphaned, individuals searching for meaning. Not too long ago, a 31-year-old mother of two sat with me in tears as she said, "I don't feel like I belong anywhere or to anyone. I just feel unwanted and not connected to anybody. I keep looking for things to make me feel better, but nothing is working." She went on to tell me how she had bought a high res-olution TV and a new VCR and, most recent!y, had gotten a sta-tionary bike. In spite of her new acquisitions, she continued, "I feel like I'm on the verge of dropping out, giving up. I can't sustain a lasting friendship or belong to a group for any length of time. Noth!ng lasts. The pain is horrible. I am trapped, cold and alone. I can't get out. Nothing makes sense anymore." Her expression is that of a prisoner in self-enforced solitary confinement. "I am trapped, cold and alone. I can't get out"--the deepest truth of her experience expressed in analytic metaphor. In the act of expressing her truth and in the response of someone interpreting her excruciating pain of helplessness and isolation, she begins her journey toward freedom. Similar experiences of disengaged subjectivity and alienation have often resulted in an escalation of materialism and con-sumerism-- a desperate effort to capture some solace and com-fort. In a rather disturbing commentary on contemporary experience, Robert Bellah notes that one of the most prized and 816 Review for Religious inexpendable commodities which we Americans possess is a microwave oven--the antithesis of the sacrament of the family meal (The Good Society, 93). A family's shared preparation of, par-ticipation in, and cleaning up after Sunday dinner all-too-fre-quently is replaced by each member "zapping" his or her own favorite microwave-ready food and rushing off to the next sched-uled event. Daily news commentaries unveil progressive fragmentation and self-serving separatism. Separatism, often disguised and jus-tified as American "pluralism," promotes scandalous division and destruction in every corner of our lived experience. Recently we have had our own experience with this type of heretical rational-ization and have experienced its painful effects. In an attempt to recover from the stunning and disheartening consequences of enforced and formalized division, we face with greater determi-nation our commitment to call for union and collaboration among those who are committed to justice, peace, and the common good. We know well from our own experience that the obsessive pursuit of private agendas, often driven by politics, has resulted in personal, ecclesial, and national crises of meaning and belong-ing. Repeatedly our poets, spiritual writers, ecolog.ists, sociolo-gists, and even business analysts reflect to us the dangers and numbing effects of individualism, separatism, and the disregard for unity and the good in common. Communities of Hope Entwined in these commentaries of our day is the longing for connection, meaning, and belonging. Community is the delib-erate human expression of such profound yearning for intimacy and purpose. I am convinced it is our final hope for establishing reconciling communication in a pained world. And it is our hope for the future of a religious life that finds itself immersed in an era roiled by exclusion, competition, and confrontation. Communities of hope become the bridges between islands of the spirit where compassion, friendship, and commitment to the mission of the Gospel still flourish. Vibrant communities of hope hold the power to proclaim the truth that we are profoundly interconnected with God and with ill creation. We are part of a living system which is our home. Communities of hope witness to our being embedded in the whole Noveraber-December 1992 817 Markham ¯ Communities of Hope of God's creation and, as living parts of this system, they are agents for the conversion of all those who promote fierce com-mitment to their own separate survival. What are the demands and conseq.uences of living at the heart of the metaphor? What does it mean for us, women and men reli-gious at a very precarious moment in history, to commit and entrhst 6urselves to ultimate belonging--to the creation of com-munities of hope which attest to the truthfulness of God's rela-tionship with us and with our world? This question is currently a. focus for many provincial and general chapters. It is a question which we are addressing with a degree of candor and self-critique that attests the maturity of American religious life. And it is a ~luestion we are answering by calling ourselves to no less than the profound communal transformation of con.temporary religious life. We know well that norms and lifestyles which were sufficient and effective yes.terday are painfully inadequate' to address the crises o.f today. Yet, in spite of uncertainty and the lack of clear direction, and often in the midst of misunderstanding and criticism from those upon whom we have counted, we entrust Ourselves to our faithful God and move on. We are taking the charism of religious life extremely seri-ously. We ar~ risking new ways of being communities of celebra-tion that radiate coherence and hope into society. More and more we are immersing ourselves among the marginated and most vul-nerable. In the blighted core of an inner city, a group of religious engaged in various ministries opens its home to neighbors--a place for prayer, respi.te, and hospitality--a contradiction in an environment charged with violence and suspicion. In a border town young adults and religious ~'espond to the needs of Central American refugees by establishing a center 'for illegal aliens. Theological reflection, common prayer, radical simplicity, and advocacy form the nonnegotiable basis of their communal life. Surrounded by affluent retirement communitieF, a growing enclave of destitute migrant workers is attended by wonderfully altruistic college students, religious brothers, and some commit-ted. couples who live among, pray with, and work on behalf of this neighborhood of preyiously ignored people. Such communities of hope are growing in strength and num-bers across the country. Increasingly we are embedding ourselves in uncomfortable places where we are bound to challenge the dominant norms of our church and our society. Counting on the 818 Review for Religious binding friendship of God, we are often venturing into places where many--and, indeed, where we--may not wish to go. Nevertheless, with all the metaphoric power of being part of a greater whole--a part which contains and is contained by every other part--we are conspiring in and committed to the healing and unify-ing transformation of the earth. While we have reason to be encouraged, we realize we have much to which to call ourselves and our congregations. Such a growing commitment to be communities of hope is inspired by the covenanted intentionality of God. We become more closely bound to God as we bind ourselves increasingly to God's will for mercy, justice, and peace. This binding intimacy--and the continued conversion to which it calls us--destabilizes the status quo and, consequently, is perceived as subver-sive by those who feel more at home in an environment of sepa-ratism and elitism. Such people fiercely resist the "subversion" they do not want to see. Increasingly we are embedding ourselves in uncomfortable places where we are bound to challenge the dominant norms of our church and our society. The Cost of Commitment Clearly, there are obligations which follow from taking responsibility to live at the core of metaphor. To begin with, com-munities of hope relinquish the security of the rigid constructs and protective routines that once defined community life. They are resilient and responsive to the ebb and flow of the needs of those among whom they li',;e, all the while claiming contemplative space, some time set apart. Participation in these transformative communities calls us to let go of our own accommodation to per-sonal comfort and possessions, to lay aside rugged autonomy and private agendas, in order to respond together to those needs which are most urgent. Those who live in the metaphor strive to rep-resent that which is most true. For many of us, that calls us away from what has been more comfortable. Communities of hope call us to be marginated anawim while, at the same time, being surrounded by the dominant culture. That November-December 1992 819 Markham ¯ Communities of Hope is, we are called to make a home with the dispossessed and vul-nerable in the midst of a culture that rejects them. We commit ourselves to live in the midst of prevalent social norms while maintaining a distinct identity as outsiders who refuse to be domesticated. We commit ourselves to responsible criticism of the prevailing culture, to search for and proclaim the truth of what we see and experience. We do this through the rigorous practice of a shared faith, through nondefensive and honest inter-action with those who oppose us, and through an uncompromis-ing commitment to contemplation, common prayer, and, most importantly, a reconciling compassion. Further, communities of hope hold the capacity to grieve together as they remember what has been forgotten and feel the shared pain of being outsiders. The catharsis of grieving yields to the.celebration of a faithful God who is friend and companion, who has called us together to be an organic conspiracy for the healing of our world. The inability of persons to feel and admit sadness marks a dulling adaptation to the existing state of affairs. One of the more disturbing symptoms an individual or a group can exhibit is the absence of the human emotion of sadness. Those who are unable to grieve have closed themselves to the transfor-mative power of empathic love and compassion. They have sealed themselves in smug detachment. As members of transformative communities, we must have the hope and the stamina to sustain rejection, misunderstanding, and unfair judgment--even ridicule--from the dominant major-ity. Walter Brueggemann addresses this in his Interpretation and Obedience, saying that exiles "must hold and practice faith in an empire that is deeply hostile., to our most precious social vision" (206). He continues, "The empire has a plan for the exiles: that they should be forever displaced, homeless, at risk, restless, admin-istrated (223). The empire will never understand. In the end, however, it will yield" (232). Staying Faithful Communities of hope are consistently faced with the risk of becoming sidetracked from their dynamic function of bringing forth a new way of life based on collaboration, mutuality, and respect. The dominant system will try to entice us to set aside our own agenda and replace it with its own. It will consistently and 820 Review for Religious untiringly try to seduce us into spending time and energy in reac-tion to it rather than in being about the threatening task of pro-claiming truth, justice, and compassion. It may even attempt to entrap us, freeze us out, and isolate us in the hope that we will feel just as imprisoned as that 31-year-old mother. But as long as com-munities remain faithful expressions of the human desire for heal-ing, for solidarity with the suffering and the vulnerable, and for communion with God and with creation, we will continue to agi-tate and disturb the pervasive system--and we will continue to promote its healing. The prevailing culture will attempt to undermine communi-ties of hope by coopting individual members to submit t6 a more comfortable existence, removed from the stringent demands .of proclaiming what is true and just. The dominant system cleverly realizes that solitary persons will not survive long as outsiders in its midst. They are ripe to be picked off and assimilated, thereby losing their power to convert and transform. Nowhere is the evil of the dominant system more apparent than when it works to devalue and fragment those who are bound together to work for the common good. The more hostile, intransigent, and wily the environment, the greater the need for the community to gather hope, strengthen desire, and realize vision. Leading at the Heart of Truth Good leaders have the courage to interpret the metaphor. They know that meaning is wrapped in the heart of metaphor. Leaders risk telling the truth. They realize that, left uninter-preted, the metaphor is bereft of the fullness of its power to bring about change. But the metaphor can be interpreted only from a posture of deep love. If there is any element of judgment or reprisal, the interpretation will be rejected. To prepare ourselves for the act of interpretation, we know that we must love with a passion that transforms our whole being, that is rooted in and nourished by contemplative relationship with God. We pray for a love that is so transparent and pervasive that it gives us the greatness to accept our own failings and those of our sisters and brothers, the courage to proclaim the vision of an alternative world ruled by the good in common, and the wisdom to challenge any acquiescence to the status quo. This is the foun-dation of interpretation. November-December 1992 821 Markham ¯ Communities of Hope What might interpretation entail for leaders today? It would entail: ¯ recalling the memory, the charism, and the values of the covenant; ¯ acknowledging, supporting, and celebrating deepening com-munities of hope; ¯ sharing the sorrow of the community of outsiders as they struggle to maintain integrity and unity in the face of misunder-standing, stereotyping, or ridicule; ¯ challenging those who are being tempted toward assimila-tion by the prevailing norms of individualism and materialism; ¯ asking difficult questions when the obliteration of bound-aries begins to diminish the identity of the community and moves it to compromise its prophetic purpose. It is in the honesty of the interpretive act that truth is revealed and continued conversion is realized. We who take on the respon-sibility to interpret must know that we will be called to profound experiences of inner conversion that happen only when we love the community so very deeply. In this act of interpretation, we are led with our communities to the edge of what is, simultane-ously, overwhelming and most sacred. A~ we continue to promote the coming of the reign of God in this new day, we bind ourselves in communion, united in a vision of religious life that is unafraid to live truthfully in the criticism of a dominant system, and we pray in the words of the prophet that we will continue to seek God with all our heart, with a sin-gle loyalty, with a centered hope (see Jr 29:13). 822 Review for Religious PATRICIA MCNICHOLAS The Service of Lay Associates Ordinary people can do extraordinary things. Many lay people fee! called to service of the poor and needy, but c~anfiot always find appropriate or worthwhile ways to respond to thi~ call. M.any communities of women religious have the per-so. nnel, the financial resources, and the contacts that enable var-ious forms of ministry to the poor and the disenfranchised to 6perate~ successfully. These programs are now being shared with lay people who desire to work with religious .communities in coop-erative ministry projects. Are thes~ programs, which involve the !aity in a religious co.mmunity's outreach efforts, one mor6 aspect of the movement toward formal lay association with religious communities? This aru,'cle attempts to place such efforts within the broad conte~ of the associate movement as it has developed in the United States. In the last twenty years, religious communities have set up various relational structures with groups of lay persons. T,hese are usually Enown as associate members or co-members. The groups are of special interest because, seeming to have appeared out of nowhere, they have increased in numbers at a tremendous rate. Today more than 60 percent of women's communities have an associate program and another 19 percent indicate that they are developing or are interested in developing a program? The phe-nomenon continues in spite of the lack of any clear-cut struc-tures, national organization, or official impetus. In some religious communities these groups embody their hopes for the future of religious life; for others they are a threat to that v~ry same future. Patricia McNicholas osu is completing her work on a doctorate in ministry. She c~n be addressed at 4250 Shields Road; Canfield, Ohio 44406. November-December 1992 823 McNicbolas ¯ The Service of Lay Associates Rosemary Jeffries asserts: "There is a plurality of religious life modes operative at ~he current time but none seems totally ade-quate in itself. New and emerging forms of membership suggest that one model might not be sufficient. Clearly the traditional model cannot accommodate alternative forms of membership.''2 The persons who participate in associated groups typically resemble the community of which they are a part. For example, the vast majority are older, white, middle-class, educated women-- the same description that would hold for most religious commu-nities of women. In the pastr membership in religious communities was lim-ited to vowed members only. No longer is this the case. Recent research shows that associate groups participate at different lev-els within community life and that the various programs tend to follow discernible patterns in their development and in their rela-tionship to specific religious communities. Jeffries describes five trends that are generally found in such programs: 1. The associate membership programs tend to attract persons very similar to the religious themselves. 2. Decisions and responsibility for the programs are mainly in the hands of the religious. 3. The activities of associate programs are limited, and communication with associates is generally sparse. 4. Most religious and associates currently involved in the associate programs are ambiguous about the purpose and future direction of these programs. 5. Associates are more positive about the programs than are the religious.3 In May 1989, more than 100 directors of such programs and associate members gathered at Bon Secours Spiritual center in Marriottsville, Maryland, for the first national gathering to discuss the movement. The purpose of the gathering was described as exploring "how spiritualities or charisms of the church, previ-ously identified with particular religious congregations, were being assimilated by groups of lay people who claim the identity, history, and traditions of a particular spirituality as their own.''4 Although the groups differed in the frequency with which they gathered, in the typg of commitment required, and in the kind of formation provided by the rel!gious community, what they seemed to have in common was the forming of bonds between the laypersons and the religious on the basis of the charism and 824 Review for Religious mission of the community. The persons at this assembly also emphasized the importance of spiritual growth and of the expe-rience of community. In some religious communities, associate groups have become so integrated within the community itself that they may now be considered co-members of the institute. Rose Marie Jasinski CBS and Peter Foley describe what they identify as four "generations" of associates. The first-generation associate was a person look-ing to the religious for spiritual growth. It was assumed that the religious took the leadership in the movement. In the second gen-eration, there was a growing sense that the laypersons and the religious journeyed together on this spiritual path. In the third generation, the associates were invited to participate in the com-munity life of the congregation. In the fourth and current gen-eration, associates actively participate in the mission of the congregation and may be considered co-members.5 Should all associate groups move toward the vision suggested byJasinski's schema? Conleth Overrfian seems to believe so. He thinks associate groups will be the very stimulus needed to create a future for religious institutes that are currently losing mem-bership. He calls on reiigious communities to extend member-ship to the laity. He says, "The future of religious life lies, not in some foi'm of 'non-canonical' organization, but in a vital amal-gamation of the fully vowed religious membership and an associ-ation of l~y people who would in actual fact be members of the religious institute.''6 He envisions a group of dedicated prayerful people who share the spirit of the institute and collaborate with vowed members in fulfilling the community's mission in the church.7 Out of this experience Overman sees religious institutes revitalized with a torrent of new life. This vision of religious life extends the meaning of what it means to be a religious, just as in earlier centuries the concept of being a religious was expanded from the notions of enclosed cloister to apostolic religious com-munities. Paula Gonzales SC also envisions co-membership as important for the renewal of religious communities. She main-tains that the emergence of associate/co-membership is the begin-ning i~f a marked transformation in the very identity and understanding of religious life.8 In March 1990, Region VI of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious met in Cincinnati to discuss the movement. In preparation for the meeting, the members completed a mail sur- November-December 1992 825 McNicbolas ¯ The Sei'vice of Lay Associates vey about their experiences regarding the associate movement. Doris Gott~moeller reported the results of the siar~ey and then summarized her finding in an article in Review for R~ligi~)us.9 Many questions about the movemen~ emerged. The most basic one concerned the very nature of associate groups. Are they really iaew forms of membership !n [he congregation,, or are they essentially noncanon, ic.al, lay associations connected to various religious institutes? Jeffries maintain~ that [h~ emergence of the associate movement and 6ther altei'- native forms of membership re,deals the need to reconcep-tualize religious life as a plurif6rm mod~l inclusi;ce of different ways of belonging rather than ~is one model . Possibly the more pluriform reality of contemporary reli-gious life provides an appropriate atmosphere for the growth of nonclinical forms of association.~° If these new organizations do represent a visionary refound-ing of th~ institutes and a new form of membership within the institute, what effect will such programs have on the existing corl-gregation and on its sense of ideritity? What rights do the asso-ciates have? Should associates be invited to participate in congregational events such as chapters, assemblies, and celebra-tions? Gottemoeller is clear about the need to clarify and answer these questions. Elizabeth McDonough criticizes.the popular belief that ~associates should be given rights to participate in inter-nal commuriity matters. She says: Perhaps religious ~vary of this ti'end instinctively sense the accuracy of the . . . analysis by sociologist Wittberg, who notes that the associate/co-membership t~'end is far from a contemporary i'efounding. It is me~ely t'i!pical behavior for ¯ . . groups that have no central communitai'ian identity by wbicb, they can attract others or into which they can incor-porate newcomers or from which they c~n claim the ongo-ing allegiance of or make significant demands on--those who belong.~ Her view would seem to suggest that the question is no~ just one concerning levelsof membership, but one concerning the ver~ identity of the institute itself. If associates are seen as mem-bers, then is the institute graying the boundaries that create its i.dentity and in that very process conti'ibuting to its own demise? In a re(ent issue of Human Developm6nt, Donfia Markham also raises the question of boundaries. She sa~,s that l~aders of reli- 826 Review for Religious gious institutes in this time of tremendous change need to "call the group to hope and to a bold vision for the future. They push at the boundaries of how the group has defined itself.''~2 Later in the same article, though, she notes that it can be a form of denial for a community to "make its boundaries so permeable that they no longer truly exist.''~3 Thus the nature and identity of these associational groups is the most significant one to be answered by any congregation as they form and develop associate programs. Experts in canon law also have serious questions about the move toward membership rights for associates. In a bulletin pub-lished by the Canon Law Society of America, David Hynous OP states: It is not appropriate to use the terminology of membership to designate those women and men collaborating with us in our ministries. It may very well be inspired by the sincere hope of stimulating our lay colleagues to give serious con-sideration to a lifetime commitment in religious life. But, insofar as we are discussing lay participation in the apos-tolic endeavors of religious institutes, it is misleading to use the terminology of membership,t4 He raises concerns when associates are invited to live and work with religious. These include questions regarding appropriate formation, issues surrounding celibacy, and financial concerns including hospitalization and retirement. These are serious issues around the question of membership. Gottemoeller, in her reflections, also raises the question of what kind of formation should be provided.'5 She asks, too, whether the program is intended to support the congregational members or whether it is outwardly focused, that is, intended to promote the mission of the church. She challenges the view that associate membership will be a way to ensure the continuity of congregation-sponsored ministries. Most associates seem more concerned about their personal relationship with the congrega-tion than with the future of the congregation's institutions. She states, "My impression is that very few associates are in positions of responsibility in congregational ministries, with the talent and energy to direct the ministries in the future.''~6 In addition, Jeffries notes that most associates reflect the aging patterns of their respective communities.'7 Gottemoeller concludes by not-ing that, given the nature and number of the questions about the associate relationship identified here, any conclusions about November-December 1992 827 McNicbolas ¯ The Service of Lay Associates its long-term contribution to religious life are decidedly premature. Perhaps the best stance to take is to be cautious about either overstating the potential of associate programs to redefine religious life or underestimating the power of the Spirit to use this vehicle to revitalize an age-old phe-nomenon within the church.~8 In spite of the questions raised concerning the nature of such groups, many communities are continuing to sponsor or plan for these types of associate groups within their community structure. These associate membership groups will continue to provide one way for lay people to fulfill their baptismal call to contribute to the mission of the church, namely, through cooperation with the efforts of a specific religious community. At the same time, those who participate will enable the community to expand its own con-cept of what it means to be a "member" of that specific commu-nity. The participants in associate programs will come to some understanding of the community's history and charism and will participate in the mission of the community. There is a need for continued research on this relatively new phenomenon within religious life. In the meantime many layper-sons are finding fulfillment in a variety of ministerial experiences related to the charisms and works of specific communities. If the results of the trend are positive for the religious communities that sponsor such associations, for the lay people who participate in them, and for the poor and the needy who benefit from them, this trend may well be with us for a very long time to come. Notes ~ Rosemary Jeffries RSM, "Results of the Survey on Associate Membership in Religious Life," Horizon: Journal of the National Religious Vocation Conference 16 (winter 1991): 65. 2 Ibid, p. 63. 3 Ibid, p. 74. 4 Rose Marie Jasinski CBS and Peter Foley, "Reflections on the Associate Movement in Religious Life," Occasional Papers, a publication of The Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 16 (October 1989): 7. s Ibid, p. 8. 6 Conleth Overman CP, "The Need for Religious Institutes to Develop a Strong Outreach of Lay Associates," Sisters Today 57 (February 1986): 345. 7 Ibid, p. 347. s Paula Gonz~ilez SC suggested this in an address at the First National 828 Review f~r Religious. Conferences of Associate/Co-Membership, as quoted in Karen Schwarz, "Alternative Membership in Religious Congregations," Review for Religious 50 (July/August 1991): 559. 9 Doris Gottemoeller RSM, "Looking at Associate Membership Today," Review for Religious 50 (May/June 1991): 391-393. 10 Jeffries, p. 64. 1~ Elizabeth McDonough OP, "The Past Is Prologue: Quid Agis?" Review for Religious 50 (January-February 1992): 93. The reference to Wittberg is from Patricia Wittberg SC, Creating a Future for Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1991), esp. chapters 2, 3, and 4. ~2 Donna J. Markham OP, "Making Friends with the Dragon: Women's Leadership in a Time of Transformation," Human Development 12 (sum-mer 1991): 29. 13 Ibid, p. 32. ,4 David M. Hynous OP, "Associate Membership in Religious Institutes," Bulletin on Issues of Religious Law 6 (Silver Spring, Maryland: Canon Law Society of America et al., 1990): 6. is Gottemoeller, p. 393. ~6 Ibid, p. 396. 17 Jeffries, p. 65. ,8 Gottemoeller, p. 397. Signs The straws in the wind at the door of a cave were signs, of a sort, of the brush of the Spirit-- but who caught the hint the Messiah would have a crib of rough chaff in that draft, or so near it? P.C. Ghotiolo SJ November-December 1992 829 DIANA TAUFER Inculturation as Dialogue dialogue ministry During a 1991 conference, Basic Directions in Native American Ministry, Sister Genevieve Cuny asked the Pueblo Indians present, "What gifts can the church share with you?" Again and again individuals answered for their groups, "Respect." This response indicates how church ministers can make the quincentennial years of Columbus's voyages years of reparation. It is the way of inculturation, of ongoing dialogue between faith and culture, because true dialogue fosters respect in and for all participants. But too often inculturation is a monologue by the church. The word lends itself to this misinterpretation. A better word would be "interculturation," which emphasizes that real ongoing dialogue clarifies the truth in both faith and cul-ture and thus leads to the mutual transformation of both. And dialogue requires a pervading presence of church min-isters among the people. Christ's message contains, at least implicidy, the whole truth for our living as God's people. The church, how-ever, has in its humanness proclaimed it imperfecdy, espe-cially by giving it overtones of Euro-American culture. The Native American and other cultures can offer insights which point out foreign and neglected elements in church teaching. Interculturation is also a matter of justice. An old def- Diana Taufer SC drew upon her work as a docent at the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center for her reflections in this article. Her address is 1014 South George Drive; Tempe, Arizona 85218. 830 Review for Religious inition of justice is "giving each one his or her due." Christ's mes-sage is due to ~ill people in all its purity with respect for them as persons and with respect for the truth that is in them. Church history is full of examples of how missionaries of old, influenced by the limitations of the times, failed to dialogue because they did not r~spect the culture and were not really present among thd people. The quincentennial presents an opportunity for church min-isters, ordained and nonordained, to learn from the way inter-culturation did or did not happen in the past when Catholic missionaries worked fimong Native Americans. A good starting point is With the Pueblo Indians of the Southwest, 90 percent of whom are baptized Catholics. While practicing also their native religion, they have maintained their language and cul-ture better than any other group of Native Americans. As early as 1528, Spanish explorers, accompanied by Franciscan missionaries, began to make inroads into Pueblo territ6ry. The first permanent settlement in New Mexico was made in 1598, nine years befoi'e the establishment of the colony at Jamestown. The Franciscans were men of their times, and the times were the years after the Protestant Reformation and the Council of Trent when the fear of heresy permei~ted the church. A~ a result, close relationships between the friars and the Indians Were discouraged by their superiors, and the friars were advised not to learn the native language. It became Franciscan policy to shift the priests frequently from one mission to another and to send them back at times to Mexico. The' priests emphasized the differences between the indigenous religion and the Catholic faith rather than the similarities, contrary to the practice of many earlier priests in Mexico. Coercion became the order of the day. The policy for con-version, as framed by the king of Spain and announced by the friars, stated that, if the natives accepted the Catholic faith once it was explained to them, great rewards would follow. If they did not, all of them would be enslaved, which consequence would be their own fault. Those Indians who did not cooperate sufficiently. An old definition of justice is "giving each one his or her due." November-Decen~ber 1992 831 Taufer ¯ Inculturation in their own "conversion" were whipped, humiliated, and other-wise punished. When the Indians later resisted the destruction of their nativ~ religious paraphernalia, some multioffenders were hanged. Joe Savilla, who with his wife, Peggy, heads the ministry to Native Amei-icans in the Archdiocese of Santa Fe, has begun to call these latter Indians martyrs. Coercion also invaded the Indian workday. The massive churches--sandstone set in adobe mud, with huge roof beams brought from mountains many miles away--were constructed with conscripted labor from the pueblos. To make matters even more unpalatable, men were often required tO do what they con-sidered women's work, for instance, plastering walls. In addition, the Pueblo Indians were expected to support the missions with food and other necessities. The NIexican government's economic system added to these burdens by awarding to local Spaniards tribute exacted from the native peoples in the form of labor, corn, blankets, hides, and so forth. By J680 the Spanish colonials and missionaries had so alien-ated the native peoples that they revolted. When the friars refused to leave, twenty-three out of thirty-one of them were killed along with about three hundred colonists; the remainder were driven out'of the area. Father Ed Savilla, a Pueblo Indian and pastor at Tats Pueblo, calls the 1680 revolt a spiritual power struggle between the Indian spiritual leaders and the missionaries. After the Spanish returned and regained control (1692-1698), coercion eased. Nevertheless, about 1773 Father Joaqu~n de Jestis noted: The petty governor and the lieutenant have their places at the door so that people may not leave during the hour of prayer and Mass. When all are in their places,., the father takes atten-dance to see whether everyone is there . If anyone is missing, the petty governor goes to fetch him. If he is not in the pueblo., he is punished on the following Sunday. The pueblos responded to these policies by taking their native practices underground, literally in some cases because kivas were at least in part below the ground. Anthropologists like Edmund Spicer describe their present pattern of belief as compartmental-ization, the practice of two religions kept separate. Ed Savilla thinks a better term to desEribe the relationship between their two beliefs is "parallel." A Pueblo woman told me that she wor-ships the one God in two ways, but she values the Eucharist above 832 Review for Religious all else. A Taos man, who spoke at the 1992 conference on Indian spirituality in Santa Fe, described his native and Catholic beliefs as interwoven. When I questioned him further, he answered that this description, he felt, fitted the majority of his people. Joe Sando, who was raised in Jemez Pueblo and still main-tains ties with the village, summarizes the beliefs of his people in his latest book, Pueblo Nations: Eight Centuries of Pueblo Indian History (1992): Elements of Catholic ritual that have been accepted are: worship on Sundays and receiving the various sacraments, confirmation, baptism, weddings, and the native social dances of the saints' days, Christmas, and Easter. These rit-uals are now accepted as traditional Pueblo social and cul-tural patterns. When I questioned him in an interview concerning what Catholic teachings Pueblos might disagree with, he said he knew of none. Presumably he is acquainted with at least the basic Catholic doctrines since he is a graduate of the Jemez mission school. Is the Pueblo culture in any way transforming the Catholic Church in New Mexico? If the interiors of the churches are any evidence, the answer is "a little." The old church at Zuni is being decorated with life-size representations of Zuni ceremonial figures. A church or two have been painted with Indian designs and have bowls of corn meal at the feet of statues. The interiors of most of them are old European in style. If the liturgies are any evidence of Pueblo cultural influence on the church, the answer is "very little" except on major feast days. Then the statues are carried in wocession after Mass to a shrine in one of the plazas, and the dancing begins. The Mass itself, homily and all, does not incorporate Indian elements, even when the readings could be linked to Indian spirituality. On the other hand, Sister Ann Rosalia Sazbo and the Tewa choir at San Juan Pueblo have translated sung parts of the Mass into Tewa and set the words to music. The factor that seems to make the biggest difference in the amount of interculturation that has occurred is the residency or nonresidence of a priest in the pueblo. These pieces of evidence are externals only, but if they are so slight, it is unlikely that much interculturation is taking place on a deeper level. The whole church would be much richer if authentic interculturation did occur. Even a little understanding November-December 1992 833 Taufer ¯ Inculturation of the Indian belief in the interdependence of all creatures would make a big difference in the American way of living. The Pueblo Indian believes that, if you intend to kill an animal, you have to let it know why and ask for understanding. An unusual instance of this realization was thd 1980 grasshopper invasion of the Rio Grande Valley. The elders advised their people: "Talk to them, tell them to have mercy. Tell them to eat, but to remember that we have children to feed too. Ask them to go on to another place and do not make war on them." Many Pueblos used the wooden plow long after the iron plow was introduced by the Spaniards. The wooden plow was gentler to Mother Earth because it did not scar so deeply. Ironically, a headline in the 29 June 1992 i~sue of Time states: "The plow is being displaced by new technique that protects the land." Another headline reads: "By the year 2000 no-till farming will be used in 80 percent of the cropland. It will be the greatest change in agri-culture in 100.years." The Pueblo Indians strive also for harmony among them-selves. They regard a schism in the village as the worst of evil. They believe that striving for wealth, social prestige, or personal power can weaken the harmony in the village. Often persons will refuse an office until they can no longer hold out against those urging acceptance. Traditionally, personal excellence is not regarded as success. When Maria Martfnez rediscovered the lost secret of black pottery for which she became world famous, she shared it with others without asking for any compensation. One's place depends upon fulfilling communal obligations. Surely the rest of us can learn from such attitudes even if we prefer not to imitate them in detail. There is no part of their culture that I have experienced more than their practice of sharing. The Bureau of Indian Affairs tried to stamp out their practice of it because the authorities regarded it as improvident. Nevertheless, the "throw" persists to this day. I was invited to be present for one at Laguna when the family was celebrating the name days of several members. Several persons stood on the rooftop and threw food and household items to a cr6wd of two hundred or more gathered below. Another sharing custom occurs on important feast days: families invite friends and strangers into their homes for a meal as a special prayer offering in honor of the day. This custom was explained to me by a young man when he realized that it was my first time to have been 834 Revieiv for Religious extended an invitation. Later I was glad that I did not linger too long, when I learned that courtesy requires that you leave so as to make room for others to be seated. On Christmas Day a Pueblo man at the rear door of Santo Domingo Church was giving each visitor a loaf of oven bread. When I asked if I could give something in return, he suggested a donation to the church. The visitor register showed that people from all over--Canada, Mexico, the Netherlands, Switzerland, New Zealand, Morocco, and so forth--had experienced that day the Indian gift of sharing. Later that year a woman I had just met invited me to visit her home in Santa Clara Pueblo. As I was leaving, she gave me a black-on-black pot that she had made. Greatest, however, of all their gifts is the example of a life permeated by religious beliefs. At Jemez State Monument a plaque reads: "We have no word for 'religion.' We have a spiritual life that is part of us 24 hours a day; it deter-mines our relation with the natural world and our fellow man." The Pueblo Indians engaged in many struggles with the American government because of their determination to main-tain traditions essential to the practice of their beliefs. In 1924 Charles Burke, commissioner of Indian Affairs, ordered the erad-ication of some observances which he regarded as sadistic and obscene. In response the council of all the New Mexico Pueblos issued a formal declaration: "Our religion to us is sacred and is more important than anything else in life . There is no future for the race of Indians if its religion is killed." When the American government wanted to incorporate into public lands the sacred Blue Lake of Taos, the elders refused to accept all arrangements, including those reimbursing them for lost lands, until in 1971 Blue Lake was returned to them. What Joseph E. Brown says of the Native American in gen-eral can be applied to the Pueblo Indian in particular: 'We have no word for "religion." We have a spiritual life that is part of us 24 hours a day.' With the American Indian we are dealing ultimately with a quality of culture wherein action and contemplation are interrelated and integrated . It may be said that special rituals and ceremonials, as well as the routine of daily life, Novevnber-Deceraber 1992 835 Taufer ¯ Inculturation constitute meditative acts that open to the exceptional per-son at least possibilities of pure contemplation. The dance, as a form of worship, is as ancient as their legends and has roots deeply embedded in their traditions, stories, poetry, and whole way of life. Students of their way of life have been much impressed by the depth to which the dance has entered into their spirituality. The Pueblos dance for all the important com-munal needs and occasions of the year: spring planting, harvest-ing, feasts of the Catholic Church year, installation of their officials, hunting, and so forth. The very young and the very old participate by the hundreds in the most common of the dances, the Corn Dance. In times past the men in a pueblo spent a major portion of their lives in native religious duties. Such is not the case today because of changes in pueblo economy and ways of earning a liv-ing. It is virtually impossible today for a non-Pueblo person to examine their religious life closely enough to verify statements such as these. Pueblo secrecy concerning their indigenous reli-gious practices stems from two principal sources. There is a deep-rooted belief among them that "power talked about is power lost." Some of them tell how informants died soon after they had given away their power by divulging secrets to anthropologists. Secondly, resentment persists at the conduct of the church, the government, and anthropologists. Church and government tried to eradicate many Pueblo practices while anthropologists enhanced their professional reputations and finances by writing about guarded details of Pueblo life. Pueblo Nations states: "The traditional Pueblo framework still remains. However, judging from this writer's traditional upbringing, it is rapidly disintegrat-ing in the face of a new order and a new lifestyle." At the 1991 conference on Indian spirituality, a young Pueblo man suggested very tentatively that perhaps the Pueblos should open secret ceremonies to priests and sisters so that they might better understand the Pueblo people. An elderly woman, a devout Catholic, emphatically rejected this suggestion because the Pueblos would then have nothing that was just their own. At the 1992 conference Sister Jose Hobday, mindful of their reticence, urged them gently to share their gifts. Father Matthew Fox, among others, has indicated the type of dialogue, the type of interculturation, that could tak.e place between Indian cultures and the Catholic faith. Pueblo people 836 Review for Religious have told me, "He talks like an Indian." Fox advocates "panen-theism," which emphasizes that "God is in everything and every-thing is in God." He condemns the dualistic mentality that sets up a subject-object mentality leading to manipulation of other crea-tures, puts one's feelings against one's thoughts, and divides a per-son into body and soul. He prefers an approach to the universe based on the cycles of nature rather than on a "mythical state of perfection in the past." For dialogue to be truly intercul-turation, the Catho-lic Church needs to examine a number of important teach-ings in the light of Native American experience, espe-cially the role of Jesus and the mission of the church. Carl Starkloff expressed the need well: Christian Indians "seek. a deeper penetration of Christianity into areas where, because of the missionaries' lack of imagination or knowledge, the church has never gone." Jesus needs to be shown free of the overtones of Western cul-ture. That necessity has long been recognized, but much more needs to be done about it. In addition, among the Pueblo Indians, and probably others, the role of Jesus as savior meets obstacles. The traditional Pueblo view regards the hereafter as similar to life on earth and as generally independent of the good or evil a person has done in the here and now. This view seems to leave lit-tle room for repentance and reconciliation with a God who willed Christ's sacrifice on the cross. The traditional Indian sees evil as excess and imbalance for which each person answers to the com-munity. The Pueblos find it difficult to understand how the death of one person centuries ago could affect their chief obligations designed to bring food, well-being, harmony, and protection to the village. The church's mission to teach all nations puzzles many Native Americans. They believe that the Great Spirit has entrusted to For dialogue to be truly interculturation, the Catholic Church needs to examine a number of important teachings in the light of Native American experience, especially the role of Jesus and the mission of the church. Novonber-December 1992 837 Taufer ¯ Inculturation them beliefs that they are to adhere to and guard. He has done the same, they say, for other peoples because he understands their needs and environment, and so there is no point to or need for conversion. Interculturation is an ongoing process, and the quincentennial could stimulate a real dialogue between Native American culture and the Catholic faith, leading to a mutual transformation through clarifying the truth in each. It could also serve the cause of justice by giving both groups their due: respect for the persons involved and for the truth that is in them. As Max Warren has said, "Our first task in approaching another people, another culture, another religion, is to take off our shoes, for the place is holy; else . . . we may forget that God was there before our arrival." Dialogue obviously requires not only that we approach and arrive, but also that we be truly present among the people. I hear again and again from Native Americans--from Hispanics too-- that church ministers are not present among them, that we remain closed away in our convents, rectories, and offices. They regard our absence as a sign of an aloof and superior attitude. Respect for and presence among persons of another culture is essential to interculturation, whether that culture is different from our own because of race, nationality, economic level, religion, sex, or age. Bibliography Brown, Joseph Epes. The Spiritual Legacy of the American Indian. New York: Crossroad, 1982. Department of Education, U.S. Catholic Conference. Faith and Culture. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1987. Starkloff, Carl T. The People of the Center: American Indian Religion and Christianity. New York: Paulist Press, 1974. 838 Review for Religious ALAN ALTANY Jewish-Catholic Dialogue since Vatican II Tmhe Second Vatican Council of the Roman Catholic Church arks for many people 'the .beginning of a significan~ change in the church's relati6ns with Jud.aism, a change away from excltisiveness and triumphalism to a more dialogic and apprecia-tive attitude towards Judaism as a living.and holy religious tradi-tion. From the Jewish point of view, this development has b~en seen as a beginning, but certainly not a completed process. It is the intention here not to discuss this ongoing dialogue chronologically up to the present, but to examine the nature of it, even the the-ology of it at times. It is important to emphasize how both Jews and Catholics approach the dialogue, bringing to it their own positions, and what dynamics the continuation of the dialogue will involve. From the historical record it is apparent that the Jewish peo-ple have been the victims of two millennia of persecution, oppres-sion, and capitai crime at the hands of Christians. The Jewish people know this s.tory and its trail'of wounds, but Catholics have too often ignored it; "ignorance of and negative attitudes toward the Jews permeate each on~ of us."~ As the Jewish writer Henry Siegmah has said, "Anti-Semitism from the first century to the twentieth century is a Christian creation and a Christian respon-sibility.'' 2 When one side of a dialogue has exercised political, social, and economic control over the other side for much of history, a Alan Altany is assistant professor of religious studies at Marshall University. His address is Department of Religious Studies; Marshall University; 400 Hal Greer Boulevard; Huntington, West Virginia 25755. November-DeceTnber 1992 839 Altany ¯ ffewisb-Catbolic Dialoffue buildup of trust is necessary if the dialogue is not to be taken by the minority side as a further means of control and domination. The Jewish people have had to face this problem in the context of suffering, for "no doubt the memory of Jewish suffering at the hands of the church makes it difficult for Jews to take as seriously as they should their own classical affirmation of the religious worth of Christianity.''3 One person who went a long way in developing the needed trust and love was Pope John XXIII, even though he died in 1963 before the council he had called was completed (1962-1965) and before the declaration on the Jewish religion was issued. The Jewish author Arthur Gilbert has written that "certainly no pope had communicated as clear and consistent an attitude of friend-ship toward the Jewish people and Judaism in all of history as had Pope John XXIII.''4 The very fact of dialogue can be considered an advance over earlier times, although not everyone agreed that there should be such communication or what the nature of it should be if it did occur. On the one hand there was the position of Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik, leader of the American Orthodox Jews: "Jews need not withdraw from cooperation on social problems, but there is no value at all in theological conversation, nor, for that makter, is such conversation possible.''s The conservative Catholic theolo-gians who wanted to maintain the old triumphalism in theology were also very skeptical of dialogue, for they felt they could gain little from it, having theologically denied the living worth of Judaism. Martin Buber has spoken about a different perspective on dia-logue, each group living in the heart of its own faith while appre-ciating the other: "It behooves both you [Christians] and us to hold inviolably fast to our own true faith, that is, to our own deepest relationship to truth. It behooves both of us to show a religious respect for the true faith of the other.''6 Another prominent Jewish thinker, Abraham Heschel, has also addressed the nature of dialogue, saying that we should not seek to expose the inner mystery of our faith to the other; rather, "the supreme issue is whether we are alive or dead to the challenge and expectation of the living God.''7 The Jewish perspective is emphasized here, for the church needs to see its historical perse-cution of Jews with great honesty; "while there are notable excep-tions . . . the history of the church's persecution of Judaism and 840 Review for Religious the Jewish people is even today not part of the consciousness of the church.''8 The dynamics of the dialogue are theologically and historically unique and must be understood. For a dialogue to be authentic, its participants must know the history both of the rel.ationship between Jews and Christians and of the anti-Semitism which has afflicted that encounter. Jews involved in the dialogue tend to emphasize this history of oppression whereas Christians have been inclined to focus upon the theological aspects of the relationship. From the time of the Vatican Council II, there has been a renewed look at the history of Jewish-Christian relations. Jews have wanted to remind Christians that to know this history is a moral responsibility because "the Christian experience of salvation has., been disconnected from the peo-plehood of Israel and the fate of the community of Israel through-out the ages.''9 There has been an abyss of Christian unawareness of the lived history of the Jewish community. The dialogue has caused the question to arise whether the interpretation of the Christian Scriptures needs some revision to remove ideas that, over the centuries, led to anti-Semitism. The Patristic period is important in this discussion, "for the [church] Fathers made no effort to understand the Judaism of their age on its terms, and certainly none to recognize in the Synagogue an authentic, if non-Christian, form of biblica! religion . The old wineskins cannot suffice. The new wine, flowing in the consciousness of post-Auschwitz theologians, must seek more suitable wineskins for its ferment.''~° Isolated and oppressed, the Jewish communities through the ages have been involved in a history of tragedy that deeply influ-ences the Jewish perspective on the dialogue. Rabbi Agus reminds us that "to put one community outside the pale of humanity as being at once charged with a metaphysical sin and condemned to an inscrutable fate is to lay the groundwork for the madness of mythological anti-Semitism." ~ Rosemary Ruether says it simply: "This very suppression of Jewish history and experience from 'The supreme issue is whether we are alive or dead to the challenge and expectation of the living God.' November-December 1992 841 Altany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue Christian consciousness is tacidy genocidal. What it says, in effect, is that Jews have no further right to exist after Jesus.''~z After becoming more familiar with the realities of history, the Christians in the dialogue have been confronted with Judaism as a living religion, a heritage of faith that does not define itself within Christian ~heological thought. This is at the very heart of the Catholic-Jewish discussion, for it says that the two religions, while sharing a unique relationship, are two separate religions that need to define themselves on their own terms, not on those of the other. Christians have had the major share of clarification to do here: "Christians must be ~ble to accept the thesis that it is not necessary for Jews to have the story about Jesus in order to have a foundation of faith and a hope for salvation.'''3 This amounts to Catholics realizing tha.t "Judaism can develop an inter gral self-definition without direct reference to. Christianity, while Christianity of nec.essity must include Judaism as a reference point in its self-definition.''~4 In the past a refusal or inability to see this reality has led Christian theologians to declare Judaism an essentially dead religion, serving only as a sterile witness to Christianity. The dialogue has brought this religious exclusivism into the light of criticism where it is understood' that Judaism can define itself without reference to Christianity: "Judaism does not usually define itself in relation to Christianity at all. Ra,ther, it represents an autonomous biblical religion which has passed through many stages, of growth quite independent of Christian assumptions concerning its character.''Is The Catholic Church's official statement on relations with Judaism is included in the council's Declaration on the Relationship of the Church to Non-Christian Religions.16 The final version was weakened in content from the original draft because of pressure from conservative bishops a.nd those bishops from Arab countries who said they feared reprisals against Christians in their countries if the statement was very strongly appreciative of Judai.sm's worth and herit.age. The major watering down of the statement was the decision not to include an explicit condemnation of charging the Jews with "deicide." !t was further criticized for a lack of penitential expression of Christian respon-sibility for persecution: "In vain does one search the Declaration of Vatican II for the slightest positive sign of Christian penite.nce. Because none is present, a.n opportunity of the century was betrayed.''~7 Another deficiency is noted by Henr~ Siegman, who 842 Review for Religious writes that "the failure of the Vatican Guidelines (1975)18 to deal with the theological dimension of the Jewish relationship to the land of Israel constitutes a grievous omission.''19 Yet Rabbi Siegman does say that the two major statements from the Vatican on relations with Jews signal a new spirit of respect and compas-sion that "bracket the past decade [ca. 1965-1975] like a set of bookends,''2° with the Declaration on Non- Christian Religions (Nostra Aerate) "marking a turning point in the history of the Catholic Church and the Jewish people.''2' The Guidelines, although a full decade passed before they were issued, speak more strongly than the conciliar statement about the vitality of Judaism when they state that "the history of Judaism did not end with the destruction of Jerusalem, but rather went on to develop a religious tradition . . . rich in religious values.''z2 We return here to our real theme, that the Jewish-Catholic dialogue must revolve around the realization that each tradition is a vital religion offering a path to God for its members. This recognition is also found in the statement of the U.S. bishops on Catholic-Jewish relations, where there is an exhorta-tion that homilists and liturgists "promote among the Catholic people a genuine appreciation of the special place of the Jewish people as God's first-chosen in the history of salvation and in no way slight the honor and dignity that is theirs,m3 The French bishops had issued in 1973 their own statement putting Nostra Aerate in a developmental perspective: "The posi-tion taken b.y, the Second Vaucan Councd should be considered a beginning rather than a final.achievement.''z4 This document goes on to demand Christian acceptance of the religious identity and spirituality of Judaism: "The Jewish people must not be looked upon by Christians as a mere social and historical reality, but most of all as a religious one; not as the relic of a venerable and finished past but as a reality alive through the ages.''25 The French bish-ops also said that, "far from envisaging the disappearance of the Jewish community, the church is in search of a living bond with 1t."26 A block to such a bond in the past has been the Christian focus of its relationship with Judaism on a theological level. By Each tradition is a vital religion offering a path to God for its members. Novernber-Decentber 1992 843 Altany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue that is meant a Christian theological perspective that saw no pres-ent validity in Judaism because Jews have not accepted Jesus as the Messiah. This has been coupled with the disasterously false accu-sation of "Christ killers" and the resultant "theology of curse," in which the Jews were thought to be cursed by God throughout the ages for their refusal to accept Jesus as the Jewish Messiah. The notion ofservitusJudaeorum, of Jews being destined to suf-fer always in this era of salvation history, grew very deep roots. Christians no longer related to Jews as to authentically religious people, but to a negative legend of Jewishness that arose from the dark depths and persistence of anti-Semitism. What has the Jewish-Catholic dialogue done to transform this situation? Discussions of the relation between Jews, Christians, and covenant took place. The French bishops said that "the First Covenant was not made invalid by the Second.''27 Monika Hellwig's attitude on this issue is that "living out the implications of contemporary theology may make Christians look a great deal more like Jews, and they may discover that they are after all one tree with them, rooted in the one covenant."z8 What is the relationship between the Jewish and the Christian covenant(s)? What does "chosen people" mean? What is the rela-tion between the church and Israel? These are theological ques-tions that are beyond the scope of this discussion, but they do suggest the need for a continuation of the dialogue into the 2 1st century and for ongoing theologizing to interpret past and present positions and to develop new insights and opportunities for deeper cooperation and dialogue. Coloring all of the discussions between Catholics and Jews are, and must be, the two pivotal realities for all Jews (and in a real sense for all Christians), the Holocaust and the founding of the modern state of Israel. In the consciousness of the Jewish partic-ipants, these realities have been constant factors determining the nature and direction of the dialogue itself. The deadly irony was that, by denying the living status of Judaism and of the Jewish people as still "chosen," the Christian churches down through history contributed to the brutal "choos-ing" of the Jews for persecution. This was the background for the evil of the Holocaust. Rabbi Agus speaks of an expanded under-standing of "chosen" when he says: "It seemed that there could be only one Chosen People, and all who were not so chosen would be cast into outer darkness. Today many of us interpret 'chosen- 844 Review for Religious ness' in the sense of an example, not of an exception. The greater the number of people covenanting with the Lord, the better.''29 The ages-long Christian exclusion of the Jews from the main-stream of Christian theological understanding, in the sense of refutingJudaism's authenticity as a living religion, built the foun-dations for persecutions, for the Holocaust. The Catholic John Pawlikowski has said that "Hitler and his collaborators could never have attained the heights they did if it were not for the centuries-long tradition of anti-Semitism in Christian theology and preaching.''3° The Holocaust is at the end of an ancient and tenaciously tri-umphalistic tradition of anti- Judaism and anti-Semitism. "The Holocaust acted out the church's fantasy that the Jews were a nonpeople, that they had no place before God, and that they should have disap-peared long ago by accepting Christ.''31 The Holocaust incorporates all the acts of hostility, barbarity, and fearsome hatred that Christians have enacted against the Jews over the centuries. Without such a historical founda-tion, it is very unlikely that the Holocaust could have been carried out by the pagan Nazis. The dialogue has encouraged a radical look at the Holocaust and has encouraged the incipient efforts to seek its meaning for Jews and all peoples. Rabbi Irving Greenberg sees the Holocaust as revealing an existential division within Christianity: "The redemption and revelation of Christianity is inescapably contra-dicted by the constellation of its classic understanding of Judaism.''32 This division within the Christian theological inter-pretations could, through wisdom and compassion in the dia-logue, be critically transformed. The dreadful absurdity of the Holocaust is portrayed by Rabbi Greenberg when he says that, "were Jesus and his mother alive in Europe in the 1940s, they would have been sent to Auschwitz.''33 Generations of Jews and Christians will have the responsi-bility to reflect upon its causes and meaning, although its mean- Coloring all of the discussions between Catholics and Jews are the two pivotal realities: the Holocaust and the founding of the modern state of Israel. November-December 1992 845 /litany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue ing escapes all logical analysis. From the Catholic viewpoint, the church must keep the Holocaust in its consciousness. Gregory Baum sees it as revelation that must be incorporated into the church's own understanding of itself, an encounter that is a turn-ing point for the church's vision of itself.34 The Holocaust is coupled in Jewish awareness with the found-ing of the modern state of Israel after World War II. It was men-tioned earlier that the Vatican Guidelines were criticized for their failure to address the vital relationship between the Jewish peo-ple and the land of Israel. The importance of this failure is high-lighted when the Jewish position is made clear that Israel rose from the ashes of the death camps: "Israel's faith in the God of History demands that an unprecedented event of destruction [the Holocaust] be matched by an unprecedented act of redemption, and this has happened [the establishment of the state of Israeli.''3s In the dialogue this Jewish attachment to a particular place has reminded Christians, who may overly tend toward abstract uni-versalisms, that people live in place and time, that their religious heritages are founded and developed within history. Christians have faith in the person of Jesus, not in some neutral, impersonal force. So, too, Jews regard Israel in a very personal and commu-nal way; it is the "place" of the people of the covenant and has a crucial role in the salvation of the people. "One Jewish scholar in an. address to a Christian audience said that 'for us Jews Israel is our Jesus.'''36 Israel remains a top-priority issue in the dialogue. Each one of the issues mentioned so far, such as covenant, the Holocaust, Israel, and the church documents could have been the topic for this whole discussion. However, they have been men-tioned briefly as the necessary foundation for the main purpose, to discuss the very core of the Jewish-Catholic dialogue, which is the awareness and appreciation of one's own faith and of the reli-gious tradition and faith of the other. From here we will deal with one of the main dialogic developments that may prove to be a means of drawing Jews and Catholics (and all Christians) into more theological communication in the future and of helping Jews and Christians address in solidarity the human task of being human. The development has to do with the interpretation of redemption and eschatology, that is, the final events of salvation history. Christians have always announced that the messianic age was here, that the kingdom of God was activated and present in Christ. Review for Religious The Jews have responded by pointing out the window at the suf-fering and evil still present in the world--so how could the mes-sianic times be here? It is on this point that the Jewish-Catholic dialogue has wrestled theologically, and we can look at some of the early results of that intimate and intense grappling. The French bishops have said: "Though Jews and Christians accomplish their vocation along dissimilar lines, history shows that their paths cross incessantly. Is not the messianic time their common concern?''37 For Jews Israel has a crucial role in the mes-sianic reality of building the kingdom of God through God's ini-tiation and responsive human participation. Israel became the center of the hope for messianic fulfillment for the Jews and all peoples. Rabbi Agus says that in Jewish awareness Israel is a "part of the universal messianic vision''38 and that "in modern Israel the ~fterglow of the messianic mystique is a potent reality, and Jews the world over respond to its perennial allure . ,,39 This was the expression of an "Israel-centered eschatology [that] favored the rebuilding of a Jewish state as a further step in the fulfillment of the messianic hope for all mankind.''4° "Fulfillment has become a centering point in the dialogue.''4~ It is fascinating that, in a relationship so often stained with blood (Jewish blood) in the past, a new relationship of compassion and plain humanity is being encouraged and formed through dis-cussion of the future and through eschatological theology: "This eschatological turn [new focus on eschatology by Christians] has brought the Church closer to the Synagtgue: both Jews and Christians now yearn for the messianic days when God will tri-umph over the power of darkness.''42 Rosemary Ruether speaks of unfulfilled and fulfilled redemp-tion. This approach opens doors for dialogue, including a look by Christians at what they mean by the parousia, the second com-ing of Christ. For Christians the present age is not yet completely fulfilled messianically, and the hope remains for a future fulfill-ment at Christ's return. In his introduction to Ruether's Faith and Fratricide, Gregory Baum addresses this future hope of fulfill-ment: ". the incompleteness of present redemption. Jesus is a significant beginning, an irreversible turning point, and a promise for future fu!fillment . The early Christians had a special vocab-ulary'for speaking about the unfinished character of the present redemption: they spoke of the second coming.''43 Pinchas Lapide and Hans Kiing engaged in a Jewish-Catholic November-December 1992 847 /litany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue dialogue, and a couple of their discussions are pertinent here, as well as displaying the warmth and humor necessary for dialogue to flourish. First K~ing, the Catholic: "We would also agree with you in this decisive argument which is continually raised by Jews against the Christian message: that redemption in the sense of consummation is not yet truly present . lit is] in this sense [that] Jesus Christ . . . announced this kingdom.''44 Lapide, the Jew, later said: "You are waiting for the parousia; with you, too, the fullness of the redemption is still in the future; I await its coming, but the second coming is also a coming. If the Messiah comes and then turns out.to be Jesus of Nazareth, I would say that I do not know of any Jew in this world who would have anything against it.''4s It is significant that Jews and Catholics can agree that redemp-tion will be further realized and fulfilled in the future through the revealed and mysterious action of a saving God, as shown by their acknowledgment that "the eschatological tension has not been resolved. What may be expected in the messianic fulfillment has not yet become manifest in the world . The messianic event should be seen as lengthy, complex, unfinished, and mys-terious." 46 For the Catholic Church, theologizing in this way can open up directions for and development of a theology of, and for the purpose of, dialogue with Judaism. Such a theology can help to melt the religious exclusivity and transform triumphalism into cooperation. The Christian can remain Christian and not suc-cumb to some kind of syncretism or eclecticism, while still seeing that God graces all humanity. The old "no salvation outside the church" (extra ecclesiam nulla salus) used as a weapon for con-demning all non-Catholics becomes an historical relic that can be buried. Our age is a time of new openings for dia!ogue among religions, and people begin to see more clearly that God's love touches, all human beings: "Since the divine redemption is not finished in Jesus, except by way of anticipation, the church is not the unique vehicle of grace: room remains in world history for other ways of grace, for many religions, and in particular for the other biblical faith, for Judaism.''47 Of course, Jews do not need to be told that Judaism is a vehicle of God's grace, but it helps for Christians, too, to have this understanding. So we return here to what was stated at the beginning, that the dialogue needs to be conducted with mutual appreciation Of each 848 Review for Religious other's religion, with special emphasis given, because of the his- .torical realities, to a Christian awareness of Judaism as a living and holy religious heritage. In looking at the Church's Guidelines document, Rabbi Siegman has written that "the Guidelines are the first Catholic document on the highest level of authority that view Judaism as a rich and vital religious movement in the period following the rise of Christianity as well [that is, not only in pre- Christian, patriarchal times]."qs Then in 1985 the Vatican's Commission for Religious Relations with the Jews pub!ished a document called "The Jews and Judaism in Preaching and Catechesis," Without such awareness by Catholics that Judaism has been and continues to be a living religious tradition, there could be no dialogue at all. But a change in the negative momentum of two millennia begins as Catholicism sees that God comes to the Jews through the Jewish religion, that God does hear the prayers of the Jews. Baum has said it clearly: "God continues to operate in the Jewish people. Christians must regard the Jewish re!igion as an authentic, God-inspired, supernatural worship of the one'true God.''49 History must be remembered; Jews and Catholics must remember and must envision new possibilities. Auschwitz and hope must be permanent parts of consciousness. For just as "no Jew is likely to forget Auschwitz, . . . no Christian can afford to blot its horror from his memory, for theology, like history, has changed its character, and nothing can reverse the situation.''s° By studying the traditions of rabbinic Judaism and learning the teachings of the Jewish sages, Catholics can be enriched; they can discover this living wisdom and faith. By taking a fresh look at Jesus and by studying the Christian sages of spirituality, Jews can be enriched; they can discover this living wisdom and faith. For Christians Jesus himself is their Jewish point of contact for "Jesus the Jew thought as a Jew, loved as a Jew, . . . suffered as a Jew, and died a Jew. It is impossible to understand Jesus without under-standing his Jewish concept of God's people and of God's covenant with his people.''51 The dialogue is thus not simply a work for small groups of A theology can help melt religious exclusivity and transform triumphalism into cooperation. November-December 1992 849 Altany ¯ Jewish.-Catholic Dialogue theologians. It has become part of the religious atmosphere, a process that surely is still at an early stage of progress. Yet steadily, implicitly or explicitly, the dialogue has meaning. Rabbi Siegman has said: "Given his or her own self-understanding, the Christian cannot avoid being confronted by the persistence 6f a living, thriv-ing Judaism. That living reality poses for the Christian the ques-tion of ultimate truth, and that is what makes the dialogue necessary and compelling.''52 And the dialogue demands action, especially from Catholics as they reconceive history. How can there re.ally be dialogue if there is an absence of genuine Catholic repentanc.e? How can the dialogue continue into the future with-out moral reconciliation? "Professor [Friedrich] Heer [a Catholic] asks: 'How is this church of ours to answer, today and tomorrow and the day after, for what she has done over these two thousand years to Jesus the Jew, to his people, to mankind, and to herself?.' V~e must confess our sin; we must ask God's forgiveness and that of the world community of Israel. But we must also perform deeds of reconciliation.''53 The time is now past when the facts about persecution of Jews by Christians over the course of history, facts deeply infused in Jewish experience, can be absent from Christian conscious-ness. Any claim to ignorance of such tragedies has no more excuse. Contemporary Jewish and Catholic theologies need to be devel-oped in the burning reality and memory of the Holocaust. M1 of this means that the dialogue demands radical reformation and compassion; Jews and Catholics mus~ recognize in each other a witness to God's saving love: "To be a b!essing unto people and a light unto nations is to be Israel. Toward that vocation both Christians and Jews feel themselves called. May we be worthy of our name.''54 Notes ~ Eugene Fisher, Faith Without Prejudice (New York: Paulist Press, 1977), p. 14. "[That] the church can understand its own nature only in dia-logue with a living Judaism is literally breathtaking to one who knows the history of the dark days of suspicion and polemics" (p. 27). 2 Henry Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations: A Reassessment," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 15, no. 2 (spring 1978): 249. 3 Ibid, p. 254. 4 Arthur Gilbert, The Vatican Council and the Jews (Cleveland: Word Publishing Co., 1968), p. 85. 850 Review for Religious s lbid, p. 125. 6 Ben Zion Bokser, Judaism and the Christian Predicament (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1967), p. 377. 7 Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations," p. 246. 8 Ibid, p. 248. 9 Monika Hellwig, "From the Jesus of Story to the Christ of Dogma," in Anti-Semitism and the Foundations of Christianity, Alan T. Davies, ed. (New York: Paulist Press, 1979), p. 126. 10 Alan T. Davies, Anti-Semitism and the Christian Mind (New York: Herder & Herder, 1969), p. 90. 1~ Jean Dani~lou, Dialogue with Israel (Baltimore: Helicon, 1968), p. 121. Rabbi Jacob Agus wrote a response to the views of Dani~lou in the book. 12 Rosemary Ruether, Faith and Fratricide (New York: Seabury Press, 1974), p. 258. 13 Ibid, p. 256. ~4 John Pawlikowski, "The Contemporary Jewish-Christian Theological Dialogue Agenda," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 11, no. 4 (fall 1974): 608. "Despite their shared biblical heritage and other simi-larities, Judaism and Christianity are essentially distinct religions, each one emphasizing different but complementary aspects of our religious dimen-sion" (p. 605). is Davies, Anti-Semitism and the Christian Mind, p. 104. 16 The very phrase "non-Christian religions" gives a sense of at least implicit exclusivism. ~7 A. Roy Eckardt, Your People, My People (New York: New York Times Book Co., 1974), p. 51. 18 The council statement was issued in 1965, while "Guidelines and Suggestions for Implementing the Conciliar Declaration Nostra Aestate" (n. 4) was issued in 1975 by the Vatican Commission for Religious Relations with the Jews. 19 Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations," p. 251. 20 Henry Siegman, "An Overview of Christian-Jewish Relations," Jewish Digest 20, no. 9 (June 1976): 66. "There seems to have been no comparable developments of similar import for Christian-Jewish rela-tions during this entire decade in Protestant and Orthodox Christianity" (p. 66). 2, Ibid, p. 69. 22 Guidelines, 1975. 23 "Statement on Catholic-Jewish Relations by the U.S. National Conference of Catholic Bishops," November 1975, in Stepping Stones to FurtherJewish-Christian Relations, ed. Helga Croner (New York: Stimulus Books, 1977), p. 34. 24 Ibid, p. 60. "Statement by the French Bishops Committee for Relations with Jews," April 1973. November-December 1992 851 Altany ¯ Jewish-Catholic Dialogue 25 Ibid, p. 61. 26 Ibid, p. 64. 27 Ibid, p. 62. 28 Monika Hellwig, "Christian Theology and the Covenant of Israel," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 7, no. 1 (winter 1970): 51. 29 Dani6lou, Dialogue with lsrael, p. 113. 30 Pawlikowski, "Contemporary Jewish-Christian Agenda," p. 613. 31 Gregory Baum, "Catholic Dogma after Auschwitz," Anti-Semitism and the Foundations of Christianity, ed. Alan T. Davies (New York: Paulist Press, 1979), p. 142. "The church's negation of Jewish existence before God created symbols and produced an atmosphere in which it was pos-sible for Hitler to make the Jews a scapegoat for the ills of society, and count on much popular support for his anti-Semitic campaigns" (p. 139). 32 Irving Greenberg, "New Revelations and New Patterns in the Relationship of Judaism and Christianity," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 16, no. 2 (spring 1979): 257. "Never again should official badge or pro-fessed religious belief allow murderers to escape condemnation and excommunication or allow victims to be excluded from the circle of humanity. Surrendering religious exclusivism or triumphalism is a crucial moral step" (p. 260). 33 Ibid, p. 258. 34 Baum, "Catholic Dogma after Auschwitz," p. 141. 3s Greenberg, "New Revelations and New Patterns," p. 263. 36 Pawlikowski, "Contemporary Jewish-Christian Agenda," p. 599. 37 Croner, Stepping Stones to Further Jewish-Christian Relations, p. 65. 38 Jacob Agus, "Israel and Jewish-Christian Dialogue," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 6, no. 1 (1969): 31. 39 Ibid. 40 Ibid, p. 18. 41 Ibid. 42 Baum, in Davies, ed., Anti-Semitism and the Foundations of Christianity, p. 147. 43 Ruether, Faith and Fratricide, p. 17. ~ Hans K~ing and Pinchas Lapide, "Is Jesus a Bond or Barrier? A Jewish-Christian Dialogue," Journal of Ecumenical Studies 14, no. 3 (summer 1977): 480. 45 Ibid, p. 482. 46 Hellwig, "Christian Theology and the Covenant of Israel," pp. 49-50. 47 Baum, in Ruether, Faith and Fratricide, p. 18. "Because Christianity proclaims an unfilled messianism, the church is not the only instrument that serves the coming of the final kingdom: there is room for other vehi-cles of grace" (p. 203). 48 Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations," p. 258. 852 Review for Religious 49 Gilbert, Vatican Council and the Jews, p. 207. "Today we encounter the divinely inspired tradition of a living Judaism as a tradition, like our own, 'rich in religious value'" (Fisher, Faith Without Prejudice, p. 7). so Davies, Anti-Semitism and the Christian Mind, p. 190. Sl Friedrich Heer, "The Catholic Church and Jews Today," Midstream 17, no. 5 (May 1971): 26. s2 Siegman, "A Decade of Catholic-Jewish Relations," p. 245. s3 Eckardt, Your People, My People, p. 250. s4 Gilbert, Vatican Council and the Jews, p. 242. Crib Chiaroscuro Always, by distance of darkness, You lay far as a star away. Always, the darkness was the gentle despair of knowing You were there, Your haloed-hair glowing against brown, slatted wood, but that I could not bridge that black of my own love-lack. Then, at my midnight moment of clarity when the sky of my spirit was spun by the sweet suddenness of Your smile to a cosmic charity-~even then I could not come near it, the crib reeling with a radiance too concealing. But now, dimmer than daystar at dawn, the crib is a pale glimmer of grace obscurity framing Your face and Your purity. I touch the Intangible. Marilyn Eynon Scott November-December 1992 853 PAUL F. HARMAN The Media and the Good News Raymond Carver, the widely acclaimed short-story writer from the Northwest who died just two years ago, gave one of his stories the title "Where I'm Calling From." Let me begin these remarks about formation and the communica6ons apostolate by telling you "where I'm call-ing from." In 1984 John O'Brien SJ, who was then the commu-nication secretary in the Roman curia of the Society of Jesus, wrote a position paper on "Jesuit Formation in Social Communication." He proposed introducing a com-munications component at every stage of the Society's for-mation process and sketched this out in some detail. His proposal met with only polite interest. Talking with Jack a few years later in Rome, I felt he was disappointed that there had not been more enthusiasm. Yet when I reread his proposal recently, it was clear that many of his recom-mendations had, in fact, found their way into the Jesuit formation program in the United States. Moreover, when Father Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, the superior general of the Society of Jesus, gave his "State of the Society" address to the provincials gathered at Loyola in 1991, he was able to report that "formation in communication for all Paul E Harman SJ is the Secretary for Formation for the Jesuit Conference in the United States. This article is the substance of an address he gave in Denver on 2 August 1992 to JESCOM, an association of Jesuits and their fellow workers in communi-cations apostolates. He can be addressed at Suite 300; 1424 16th Street N.W.; Washington, D.C. 20036. 854 Review for Religious scholastics is now becoming a fairly regular occurrence." The Jesuit major superiors of Africa and Madagascar, for example, have given their approval for an integrated program of training in communication covering the whole of Jesuit formation from novi-tiate to ordination. There is no lack of very clear and specific communications from all quarters about what formation should and should not be doing. In April 1992 the pope issued the official papal response to the 1990 Synod of Bishops on priestly formation. In November 1992 the U.S. bishops are looking at the fourth edition of "The Program for Priestly Formation," the document which is nor-mative for all seminaries and religious houses of priestly forma-tion in the United States; the revisions have taken almost two ~ears of committee work and gone through several drafts. Over the past eight years I have read at least forW pastoral letters, major addresses, and Roman documents--all published in Origins--on the identity, formation, education, spirituality, and ministry of priests. And, of course, there are the more controversial writings on Jesuit formation past, present, and future: Frank Houdek's "T.h.e Road Too Often Traveled,''1 Peter McDonough's Men Astutel.y Trained,2 and Joseph Becker's The Re-Formed Jesuits, vol-ume 1.3 (The latter two works, ~hough from different perspec-tives, look back with more than a little nostalgia to an older formation program and raise questions about the 9hanges intro-duced by the Second Vatican Council and General Congregations 31 and 32 of the Society.) If eight years ago formation personnel did not rush to imPle-ment every recommendation in Jack O'Brien's position paper, it was not for any lack of interest in or commitment to the com-munications apostolate. Rather it was because then, as now, those responsible for formation--perhaps this has always been and always will be the case--were concerned about "overload." The formation period is both too long .and too short. The list of all that needs to be accomplished in the space of the formation years g~'ows and grows and grows. There are, first of all, the "basics": formation in religious life, in community,, and in the spirituality of the order or congregation; introduction to its history, its traditions, and its varied aposto-lates. 'The essential academic studies of philosophy and theology demand large amounts of time as do the study of language, history, art, science, literature, economics, and psychology. And--along November-December 1992 855 Harman ¯ The Media and the Good News the way--issues of community life, interpersonal relationships, psychosexual development, addictions, and family disorders may need to be addressed. Can we do more in formation in the years between the novi-tiate and final profession? Of course we can, and we will because the times and circumstances demand it of us. Could we do for-mation, differently, so that it is not simply a matter of adding more and more components to a process that is al~'eady very long, con-sidering that the average entrance age is 26? Perhaps. There are always efforts in that direction. After eight years of looking at formation at close range, I am more and more inclined to think that we need to put less empha-sis on formation and more emphasis on mission. In doing so, we might discover that, in formation, less is definitely more. I was in the Far East earlier this year and met some of the novices and scholastics there; they were, on the average, about the same age as our novices and scholastics (that is, late twen-ties), generous, eager, intelligent, self-posses~ed, many of them with stories that I will not easily forget (as is true of our own entering novices in the United States). I listened intently to the discussions of formation issues in Korea, Indonesia, China, Vietnam, Japan, and Singapore, but I kept asking myself the same question that I ask here in the United States: Do we expect too much of formation? In my notebook I wrote: "Enough of forma-tion! Just ~et them free to become saints and martyrs. Mother Teresa says, 'Do something beautiful for God.' Here at home the Nike ads tell us, 'Just do it!'" So that is "where I'm calling from." Having said that we should talk less about formation and more about mission, let me say something about mission and the com-munications apostolate. If someone were to ask me to list the places in the text of the Exercises from which Jesuits over the centuries have drawn par-ticular energy and motivation for their lives, one of the first texts I would point to is §106 in the first contemplation of the first day of the Second Week. In this contemplation'on the incarnation, St. Ignatius proposes that the exercitant "see" all the people on the face of the earth "in such great diversity in dress and in manner of acting. Some are white, some black; some at peace, and some 856 ~Review for Religious at war; some weeping, some laughing, some well, some sick, some coming into the world, and some dying . " Put very simply, the exercitant is invited to look at the masses, not with the dis-passionate eye of the statistician or social scientist, but with the loving gaze of the Trinity. It is almost fifty years since a special Labor Day Weekend me~ting at West Baden, Indiana, of some 200 Jesuits gathered to assess the situation of the Society vis-a-vis the social situation in the United States. Peter McDonough makes much of this 1943 assembly in his book Men Astutely Trained. Unfortunately, there was nothing like JESCOM around then, but Father Dan Lord, who knew a thing or twO about the media, spoke forcefully aboui: reaching the masses, noting in passing that the Communist party in the United States showed more zeal in this respect than did the Society. (Jesuits seemed to rely more on the "trickle down" theory--focus-ing principally on the educational apostolate.) Many religious congregations, now more than ever, are becoming aware of a mission to reach the many, the masses, as well as the few. How do religious communities--all of us, not just those in formation--take i'esponsibility for this mission? Let me concentrate on one part of the mission, naniely, the Catholic masses. The Official Catholic Directory puts the number of bap-tized Roman Catholics in flae United States at almost 60 million; we are nearly one-fourth of the total population, and we are an increasingly diverse group. It has been said that Roman Catholics are now the only major religious denomination that truly has everybody in it. Now that is a mission with some challenge! Of the 60 million Catholics, 15 millionwa fourth of the Catholic population--are "inactive." Eighteen million Catholics have not attended Mass in any given month. The level of educa-tion among U.S. Catholics has risen dramatically in the last gen-eration and is actually slightly higher than the average national statistics; but young Catholics, for the

Issue 42.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1983. ; REVIEW FOR R~.L~c, lous (ISSN 0034-639X), published evcry two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. Rv.vw.w FOR REI.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1983 by R~.v~Ew ~:oR REIAG~OUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVI~:W I.'OR REHC.tOIIS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July/August, 1983 Volume 42 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REWEW ~'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Oul of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms Intergational; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Trends in Religious Life Today John M. Lozano, C.M.F. On the evening of June 16, in joint sponsorship with St. Louis University's Department of Theological Studies, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS launched the fi~st of an annual series of lectures and colloquies on a subject of pertinence to religious life as such. The first lecture in this series, the basis of the present article, was given by Father John Lozano, already known to our readers as an author specializing in the history and theology of religious life. Father Lozano has taught at universities both here and abroad; he is presently superior of the Claretian house of studies in Chicago and teaches at the Catholic Theological Union there. He may be addressed at his residence: Claret House; 5540 S. Everett; Chicago, IL 60637. The following reflections are offered as a sort of aerial photograph of the most prominent features emerging on the landscape of the religious life. We will take a look at some of the main trends that seem to be shaping the future .of this landscape, and examine some of the main difficulties that its terrain presents for the religious traveler today. Many of these trends and difficulties seem to be closely interrelated. At the end of our survey we will concentrate on one major difficulty that seems to arise from causes that are more general than is sometimes supposed. I will be speaking mainly from the viewpoint of the northern hemisphere (North American and Europe), but my work in some other parts of the globe (Latin America, Australia and the Philippines) has shown that the same trends are emerging in broad areas throughout the Church. The rapidity of modern communications and the international outreach of books and reviews has tended to hasten the spread of ideas and attitudes from one continent to another. I base these reflections on my personal experience. During the last twenty years, which I have dedicated to studying the religious life and working with a broad spectrum of men's and women's religious communities, I have always striven to relate a theological vision of the religious life to the experiences that I 481 4119 / Review for Religious, July-August; 1983 and those I worked with were undergoing at the time. I have also had to pay close attention to what others were writing on these subjects. Naturally, my nearness to the phenomena I deal with (my own present) has been a somewhat mixed blessing: on the one hand, it has given me the immediacy of an "insider's" experience of these phenomena; on the other, it has been a real test of objectivity, since I had to write about them with a degree of passionate involvement. For this is a history we are all enjoying and suffering together~ In the exposition that follows, I have chosen not to separate trends in theology from trends in life, since common sense and all my previous work have shown them to be intimately related. There is no need to dwell on the particular circumstances that lead us to reflect on the present state of the religious life. It is a well-known fact that it is currently undergoing a serious crisis of growth and adaptation. Many are wondering if it really has a future,~ while a number of religious communities who have felt a sharp decrease in membership are worrying whether they will manage to survive. In view of these facts, it makes little sense to try to lay the blame for them on individual failures. What we are going through is a failure of institutions as such? This is not surprising if we bear in mind the profound technological and cultural changes that have taken place in our society, as well as the rapidity with which they have occurred and will continue to occur. The Second Vatican Council spoke of our times as a new epoch in history and tried to make the Church face up to it. In a memorable address to the Wes~on School of Theology, Karl Rahner stated that "the second Vatican Council is, in a rudimentary form still groping for identity, the Cl~urch's first self-actualiza-tion as a World Church.'~ Thus the third great epoch of the Church's history is beginning to open up, after the. very brief Judeo-Christian Epoch and the Occidental Epoch that started when Paul brought the gospel to the Gentiles and began incarnating it in their culture. The deep changes which this new epoch will bring, although they will surely be of great consequence for the Church, can as yet hardly be glimpsed. If the Church is already witnessing some of these profound changes, then the religious life, which in its various forms has always tried to respond to the needs of the Church, will itself have to undergo a necessary crisis of readjust-ment. That is why we simply have to reflect on what is going on. In dealing with the mosi general trends observable in the religious life today, it seemed appropriate to group them under the following six headings: 1) the centrality of the person, 2) the growing advocacy of women's rights, 3) the predominance of life over institutions, 4) ministerial openness to the world, 5) the reinterpretation of religious life, and 6) the problem of lifelong commitment. Finally, we will consider a single issue of great concern: the scarcity of vocations. 1. The Centrality of the Person The frequency with which certain aspects of religious life are discussed, and Trends in Religious I~fe / 411~ the way in which certain concrete situations are handled, reveal a growing tendency to regard the religious person as a central criterion. This theme has been the object of deep philosophical reflection by Christian thinkers during our century. In France, it was first dealt with by Jacques Maritain and then in a quite different way by Emmanuel Mounier. In Europe generally, the trauma of modern dictatorships--which made party or national loyalty the life-or-death criterion for the individual--also helped us see the dangers latent in the way some religious families viewed issues of solidarity and obedience. The trauma was a salutary one, because both the theoretical authoritarianism of anti-democrats like Charles Maurras and the practical authoritarianism of dictators like Mussolini, Salazar, Franco and Peron had no small influence in some ecclesiastical and religious circles. But since the time of John XXIII, a new definition of the common good has begun to leave its mark on magisterial teachings and statements.4 This definition regards the common good not as the sum of common goals (to which individuals are sacrificed), but as an environ-ment of freedom, peace and solidarity where persons may more readily achieve development and fulfillment. Even in the darkest hours of the past, no matter how much we conformed, somewhere in the back of our memory we could never quite let go of the Loi'd's saying that "the sabbath was made for human beings, not human beings for the sabbath," or of the pastoral axiom that "the sacraments are for persons." But clearly, our more democratic milieu and the institutional images it projects, together with the spread of the new psycholo-gies of personal development in Europe and North America, have made us more sensitive to this theme. 1.1. The Development of One's Own Talents. This is not only an important concern for individual religious, but also figures in a whole series of renewed constitutions. In the past, constitutions ordinarily asked community leaders to watch over the spiritual and physical welfare of their sisters and brothers.5 The new texts ask them to facilitate the overall growth of their sisters and brothers, whether on the level of psychological health, education or professional prepa-ration. 6 In fact, a number of the new constitutions speak of the overall growth of the religious, and make the community co-responsible with the individual in achieving this growth.7 The now-common secretariats and programs for con-tinuing formation and education point in the same direction. But individual religious share this concern. There is a general tendency to affirm oneself and develop one's gifts. This has had its effect on spirituality, which is viewed as a means for achieving one's full potential (holiness/whole-ness), and on the theology of the vows, which are viewed dynamically, as means to personal growth.8 The achievement of personal fulfillment was already a goal in the teaching of Aquinas and Bonaventure, who treated the vows as means for arriving at the perfection of charity,9 although greater stress is laid today on the overall aspect of maturity. One difficulty felt by many religious and frequently echoed in religious chapters and congresses, can be summed up in the question: How are one's 411~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 personal fulfillment and gifts to be related to the common good, aims and ministries of the institute?10 Theoretically, the issue seems clear enough. On the one hand, the members of every religious community share a common voca-tion and have received from God the same charism that was first given to their founder or foundress. On the other hand, each member is a different personal-ity, with different gifts that he or she has a duty to cultivate and make bear fruit. In short, it is a matter of a diversity of personalities being united in communion. We should perhaps note in passing that actual, absolute liberty, that is, the real possibility of developing one's personality to the maximum, simply does not exist. Every adult, even one who is single and free, has to build his or her existence within a limited gamut of possibilities, and always with some attendant sacrifices. No one, let alone a person committed to one or more persons in a family, in matrimony or in a celibate community, can work out his or her own development without reference to solidarity to others. Anyone who persists in trying to evade solidarity will end up psychologically warped or stunted. Individual religious must always be ready to make sacri-rices, and these sacrifices will definitely make them grow. However, on its part, the community cannot pursue its common good or goals through a systematic policy of sacrificing its members. The development and happiness of individual members carries over into the common good of the group. The concrete solution to this problem is to be sought and found in a sense of communion and real dialogue between the group (its representatives) and the individual. 1.2. Freedom. Isaac Hecker, with fine American sense, wrote that "a great and large freedom of action should be the spirit" of the Paulist community.~1 It is significant that the terms "freedom" and "liberty" occur so frequently in revised constitutions.'2 Of course, individual freedom of choice has always been required for acceptance into community. One was--and is--in community, out of a desire to be in community. But community and obedience were commonly seen from the viewpoint of sacrificing one's individual freedom. In the new type of community there is ample room for individual freedom and initiative. We have referred in passing to the disappearance of the disciplinary type of community that began forming in the 19th century, with its peculiar stresses in reaction to the French Revolution: a type of community dominated by uniformity in dress, in timetables and, in lay communities of women and men, in the kind of ministry practiced. The new constitutions contain few disciplinary regulations. The local community can now, ordinarily, determine its own internal norms and make its own decisions. The number of community acts, which were excessive in many communities founded in the last few centuries, has been reduced to a minimum. Not only religious men, but reli-gious women as well, now have to seek out their own ministerial works, rather than receive them passively from the community. Recently a sister told me: "We ourselves have to create our own jobs and living conditions." Obviously, this kind of freedom has its price. A religious must now make a real effort to maintain communion with his or her own group. Today's community tends to Trends in Religious Life / 4115 be seen in the light of unity in essentials, liberty in what does not affect the common values of religious lifeor the charism and spirit of the institute, and a definite effort at establishing a communion of love. Initially, the downfall of restrictive norms and community acts, together with the broadening field for autonomous, individual decisions, left a good number of religious with the impression that community life had all but disappeared. However, after a period of personal search, religious began to feel the need to return to a more intensely lived form of community, this time based on interpersonal relationships. More spontaneous and creative acts of common prayer began to appear. Nevertheless, there are quite a few men and women religious who have kept their liberty without managing to create com-munion. Of course, many religious live in community, in the sense that they come home to sleep under the same roof, share meals together and treat each other with respect. But the number of religious who are living alone, when they could be living in community, is somewhat notable. The fact that more women than men are living alone may be traced to a number of factors. For one thing, the number of men whose work is tied to institutions (parishes, schools, retreat houses) is proportionately greater. Moreover, women religious may have a greater psychological need for living alone. In the past, women's communities were far more restrictive than men's, and thus the reaction of the former has been that much stronger. Besides this, as we shall see in more detail later, all women, and religious women in particular, are struggling to emerge as persons, against the restrictions still imposed on them by the ecclesiastical community. 1.3. Pluralism in Community. This brings us to the subject of pluralism, which was so warmly debated in not a few chapters of renewal. In the past, there was a strong tendency toward uniformity. Everyone studied the same theology and followed the same methods of prayer. Each institute had a uniform theological or spiritual language. Today the great variety of theological positions in the Church is reflected within religious families, and often within the same reli-gious house. This affects the way we view the religious life and its objectives, and these different views are translated into different life-styles. Pluralism can immensely enrich our communities, provided it does not jeopardize essentials, thus weakening or undermining spiritual cohesion. But pluralism has now reached a transitional phase in which it can give rise to considerable suffering. Those who are inclined toward a more traditional type of life, to a distinctive habit, or to a more devotional form of piety, may suffer and feel lost among others who are leading a different type of life. Those who are inclined to a more personal life-style, with a more modem sensibility, often feel that they are the object of suspicion and insinuations. Theological plural-ism, above all for initiates, can cause acute moral suffering. We may some-times be offered an image of Christ, or a paradigm for relationships with Christ, that wounds our feelings. We might do well to recall that pluralism in freedom caused serious prob-lems for the tiny ecclesial communities of Paul, both on the theological level 41~6 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 (the role of the Law) and on the practical level (eating food offered to idols). Paul's recommendation was that all should practice a delicate charity toward one another. Those who felt more restricted should respect the conscience of others, while those who felt more free in these matters should exercise their freedom without inflicting unnecessary wounds on those of a different persua-sion. "Each of you should regard, not your own interests, but the other per-son's" (I Co 10:24). There are religious who worry too much about what others are saying or doing. And there are religious who speak and act without regard for the sufferings they may be causing others. After all, what good will our theology or our achievement of practical freedom do us ifthey are done without love? 1.4. Personal Ministries. In the past, congregations with the most priests prac-ticed two different types of ministries: one, institutional, in which the religious collaborated in a common work (schools, retreat houses, parishes), the other, personal (teaching in centers outside the institute, preaching, conferences, books). Lay communities of men or women were limited to working within their own institutions (hospitals, schools). In many women's communities and in some brothers' institutes, there is now a trend favoring personal ministries: counseling, spiritual direction and giving conferences. This has fundamentally modified the type of community life led in these institutes. We read also, for example, that the Franciscan Province of Santa Barbara has adopted, as a criterion of priority in assignments to ministries, the talents and availability of individual members, rather than the needs of existing institutions.13 This trend can be noted with lesser force in institutes that have a greater number of institutions (schools, parishes, hospitals). 1.5. Emphasis on Local Community. Partly because of this affirmation of the centrality of the person in societies and institutions, and partly because of the current stress on the Church as a communion that is realized above all in the local church, greater importance is being attached to the local religious com-munity. Many constitutions have changed the vertical presentation of their governmental structures from the once-common descending order (general government, provinces, local communities) to an ascending order (local, pro-vincial, general),~4 while even more constitutions affirm the primary value of the local community. In contrast with the mainly disciplinary content of former texts, the new ones bring out the theological and ecclesial meaning of the local community as a community of faith, worship and mission, and as the privileged locus of Christian communion.~5 1.6. Small Communities. Starting very soon after the Council, there was a growing emphasis on a trend that had already appeared in religious institutes founded a few decades earlier: the formation of small local communities with a family-like structure. Large communities that staffed various institutions (schools or parishes), or were at the service of some large institution (a univer-sity), began dividing up into small groups. Many factors motivated this shift: a Trends in Religious Life / 4117 desire to establish closer interpersonal relationships, an attempt to lessen the difficulties inherent in large-group interaction, a tendency to live closer to the people, and an endeavor to free the group from quasi-monastic structures. Paul VI dealt with this trend in his apostolic exhortation, Evangelica Testif!- catio,~6 noting that this type of community makes greater demands of its members. For one thing, in this setting the individual constantly emerges in face-to-face relationships that strongly reveal his or her good points and short-comings. Small communities demand better communication, greater respect for individual differences, and a more thoroughgoing effort to adapt oneself to others. In large communities it is easier to avoid communication and, above all, confrontation with certain community members. Interestingly enough, it is not just older persons accustomed to a more institutionalized type of life, but also younger religious less inclined to intimate communication, who prefer to live in larger groups. 1.7. Authority and Obedience. The Second Vatican Council, in its decree Perfectae Caritatis,17 clearly established principles for a deep renewal of the practice of authority and obedience as we had heretofore known it. Doubtless, the concepts expressed in this decree belong to the tradition of the religious life in its richest moments. Nevertheless, the emphasis on certain aspects of this tradition, such as "active collaboration," the service rendered by the commu-nity leader, the recommendation that the leader respect his or her fellow religious as sons or daughters of God and as human persons, the insistence on dialogue as an integral part of the unifying process of obedience (and not just as a last resort in facing difficult decisions)--all of these paved the way for a theological and practical reinterpretation of the leader's role, and of the nature of common obedience.~8 Even those institutes that have not modified their vertical structures of government have had to reread their constitutions with a new sensitivity.~9 The Council stated that the manner of governing religious institutes had to be examined and brought into harmony with the physical and psychological conditions of today's religious, with the needs of the apostolate, with cultural requirements, and with socioeconomic realities.20 The great majority of the revised constitutions of institutes founded in an age when another image of authority prevailed, have modified their systems of govern-ment by introducing dialogue prior to decision making, or have even left certain decisions to the group itself. Some constitutions have made the group the ordinary decision-making body in matters important to the local commu-nity. In Practice, there has also been a tendency to allow a wide margin for individual decisions and initiatives in matters that do not touch upon the life of the group. 2. The Emancipation of Women Closely related to the preceding theme (the value of the person as such), another trend has had a growing impact on religious life: the progressive 41111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 emergence of the religious woman, and her assumption of a public mission in the Church and in civil society. We are touching here on a painful topic: the struggle of women (and the Holy Spirit with them) to liberate themselves from a situation of confinement and subordination. No need to go into the details of Mary Ward's way of the cross, or the fate of the Ursulines after the death of Angela Merici, or the changes forced upon the Order of the Visitation, or the tremendous difficulties that Louise de Marillac and her Daughters of Charity had to face. As late as the 19th century, especially in France, every women's institute was forced to have a male ecclesiastical superior with powers equal and sometimes superior to those of the mother general. Some institutes were arbitrarily divided, and some foundresses were practically expelled from their own communities (Clara Pfaender, Bonifacia Rodriguez, Maria Rosa Zangara), or deposed (Jeanne de Lestonnac, Alix Le Clercq, Alfonsa Cavin, Rafaela of the Sacred Heart). Fortunately, circumstances have changed radi-cally and will continue to do so, as we shall see. 2.1. Emancipation. A large number of religious women are more or less fully committed to the feminist movement, and still more are deeply affected by it.2~ In the past every religious woman, upon reaching maturity, had to bring her femininity to bear on her milieu so to speak implicitly, by letting it shine through in her life and work (think of Teresa's influence on her theologian friends, or the changes Jeanne de Chantal brought about in Francois de Sales). Nowadays, however, the condition of women is explicitly posited and vindi-cated. In affirming their identity, religious women are bringing a new dimen-sion into spirituality and religious life in general: the feminine perspective?2 They not only are setting up a feminine symbology to counterbalance the overstated male symbology of religion (a function always at work in women like Clare of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, Teresa of Jesus and Margaret Mary Alacoque), but are also discovering the feminine aspects of God (something rarely done in the past, although one can always point to the example of Dame Julian of Norwich). The arrival of large numbers of women in the once segregated halls of theology is bound to give rise to deep changes in the task of interpreting the experience of God. The theology of the religious life will surely have to take much more serious note of this phenomenon. 2.2. The Revision of Constitutions. Today, religious women are revising their own constitutions, sometimes with the help of outside experts, both men and women. We are getting farther and farther away from the days when men could write rules for women (Pachomius, perhaps Augustine, Caesarius of Arles, Leander), or when women had to adopt and adapt rules written for men's communities (Benedictines). There is an exquisitely feminine style and sensibility in not a few of the new constitutions. 2.3. Personal Ministries. With growing frequency, women are taking on per-sonal ministries not connected with their own institutions. They are teaching in outside centers, writing books, doing spiritual direction, directing retreats and Trends in Religious Life / 489 spiritual exercises, counseling, ministering in parishes, and so forth. Their influence is beginning to be strongly felt in male formation communities, by the balance they bring to young men who receive their information in an otherwise strictly masculine environment. This gives these men a more positive and educative,perception of the feminine image. 2.4. The First Apostolic Community. In our judgment, the women religious of North America have built the first fully apostolic feminine community in history. Many of them live in small groups not bound to institutions, and are dedicated to personal ministries. While men religious are frequently tied down to an ecclesiastical institution (parish, college), women religious, by the very fact of being non-ordained ministers, enjoy a greater freedom of movement. 2.5. Economic Dependence. This freedom is very relative, however, because many women religious are faced with the anguishing problem of economic dependence. Adding to the painfulness of this situation is the fact that the work they do is usually underpaid. Moreover, those women who do not have their own institutions must either depend on other institutions, or else become free-lancers at the mercy of fortune. A few.years ago, one mother general told me that her institute was unable to implement an option for the poor and the marginated because they depended for their sustenance on the salaries they received from the diocese, which did not allow enough for it. 3. Life Over Institutions Another clearly perceptible trend in today's religious life seems to be a distinct prevalence of a concept and an experience of a life lived simply, freely and creatively, over against more institutional forms of living. Significantly, the first schema on religious life submitted to the Second Vatican Council was overloaded with canonical-institutional vocabulary, reflected in its title: status religiosus--the religious state. It had obviously been drafted by.a group of conservative canonists and theologians. When this text was brought to the floor for discussion, the Council gave it h change of direction and chose to speak of the religious life, understood not as a sort of entity that could be classified and regulated, but as a life that is really lived. This trend is more apparent in Perfectae Caritatis (October, 1965) than in Chapter IV of Lumen Gentium (November, 1964~). But even in Lumen Gentium, the basis stated for both the religious state and form of life are the charisms of the Spirit,23 and the movement leading a Christian to consecrate his or her life to the service of God is described in similar terms.24 Perfectae Caritatis describes various con-crete aspects of this life which must be renewed and adapted to conditions as they really exist. This has been a recurring trend throughout history, especially during peri-ods of creativity. Basil and Macrina created fraternal groups, free of the unwieldiness of the Pachomian institutions that had formed in Egypt. Francis of Assisi was very traditional in his concept of the religious life ("to live 490 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 according to the Gospel"), yet he launched a project of profound renewal by distancing himself from existing monastic institutions. The Dominicans origi-nally followed this same trend. The first Jesuits and the Daughters of Charity, each in their own way, were simply Christian companions committed to serv-ice. A few decades ago, the Little Brothers and Sisters of Jesus returned to this simplicity, to a lived life and to creativity. The phenomenon we have been describing is now appearing under various forms. 3.1. The Fall of Structure. In most communities many structures have disap-peared. The 19th century left us a legacy of methods and detailed regulations for prayer, for the organization of our day, for work, etc. In Europe,.a number of founders went so far as to include a basic menu in their constitutions. As the monks of Solesmes had striven to unify liturgical rubrics against a welter of national liturgies, religious superiors strove to unify religious life with regula-tions and timetables. In today's ~onstitutions and community discussions, the emphasis is on the quality of life. Religious are concerned about the extent to which their real life constitutes a witness, now that neither uniform habits nor characteristic buildings nor special timetables distinguish them from the rest of the citizenry. Religious tend to "value more the influence of their life attitudes and personal witness than they do the impact of service to an institution.'~5 To put it another way, there is a sort of diffuse Franciscanism in our times, representing a desire to connect with the original and fundamental sense of the religious life: a life-style that is significant in itself. 3.2. Prayer. This same trend can be felt in the prayer life of religious. In the not-too-distant past, communities imposed numerous acts of community prayer, many of them devotional in character. Even personal meditation and spiritual reading were made into community acts. Some quite detailed methods of meditation were very popular. Apostolic communities have largely done away with these numerous community acts and have returned mental prayer to the responsibility and initiative of the individual. Initially, more than a few religious felt left in the lurch by all of this, so that one often heard the complaint, "We aren't praying anymore!" Others, on the contrary, looked upon the new approach as a license to improvise, and began to forget the lessons of the spiritual masters, lessons that were themselves the fruit of pro-longed experience. We believe that this situation has been largely corrected. Left in greater liberty, religious themselves have had to face up to their respon-sibility. But even here, some exaggerations exist. One sometimes gets the impression that some people regard prayer as a strictly private responsibility, despite the fact that constitutions clearly represent it as an essential life-trait for all members of the institute. Our prayer-life is a commitment we make to the community, and other members of the community have every right to be concerned when we give the impression that we are failing in prayer. 3.3. A New Understanding of Law. Another commonly observable trend is the new way in which the revised constitutions and rules of life are presented. A Trends in Religious Life / 491 little background may clarify this trend. In many texts submitted to the Holy See by 19th-century founders and foundresses, there was an overload of asceti-cal exhortations and a dearth of canonical structures. In reaction to this, the Roman Curia, around the turn of the century, issued its Normae secundum quas, excluding all these ascetical passages and adding the necessary structural sections.26 This had the unfortunate effect of reducing most constitutions to the bare bones of a canonical and disciplinary text, containing an abundance of precise norms on how to do things, on the practice of mortification, and on rules for cloister and silence. We were left with a code of precepts. In the new constitutions and rules of life, few norms remain, and those that do are canon-ical, almost to the exclusion of those of a purely disciplinary nature. In con-trast, these new texts give us a description of the vocation and spirit of the religious who belong to each institute. We have passed, so to speak, from a "decalogue" code of observances to a "beatitudes" rule of life; from a minimum we must observe, to a maximum toward which we must strive. Instead of observance, we now tend to speak of growing fidelity. Saint Thomas observed long ago that the twofold gospel precept of love (with all one's heart) is not something we fulfill here and now in an instant, but is rather a goal toward which we must constantly strive and tend. This is the evangelical vision to which the new rules of life invite us. Hence, for all their dearth of precepts, these new rules are on the whole more demanding. 3.4. Individual and Community Discernment. The greater freedom allotted to individuals and to local communities, the reinterpretation of the fundamental law as a description of vocation and spirit, and the relative absence of discipli-nary norms have all placed a greater burden of responsibility on local com-munities and their members. Local communities must frequently assume the role of discerning what is here and now God's salvific will for the group and its members. In this respect, the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus has set a good example for us all. Speaking of the mission of the Jesuits today, the Congregation stated: "We must undertake a thoroughgoing assess-ment of our traditional apostolic methods, attitudes and institutions with a view to adapting them to the new needs of the times and to a world of rapid change. All this demands that we practice discernment, that spiritual discern-ment which Saint Ignatius teaches us in the Exercises. Moreover, discerning will yield a deeper grasp of the movements, aspirations and struggles in the hearts of our contemporaries."27 A little later, the decree restates the same idea: "What is required is not so much a research program as a process of reflection and evaluation inspired by the Ignatian tradition of spiritual discernment."~s The Ignatian practice of spiritual discernment, once largely restricted to circles of the Society of Jesus, has now become generalized to the point that it is present in all schools of spirituality. Recent bibliography abundantly bears out this development,~9 and we should all be glad of it. 3.5. A Blurred Image of Church. As we round out this section, we can hardly 492 Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 avoid mentioning one painful fact: the disinterest or distaste that some reli-gious feel toward the ecclesiastical institution. Francis of Assisi, who was called to rebuild God's tottering house, was distinguished from other leaders of poverty movements in his day by his fidelity to the Church's leaders.3° Saint Ignatius Loyola, another great religious reformer, recommended that we "feel with the hierarchical Church.TM Today, although most religious are strongly attracted to the Church as communion and mystery, a number of them tend to experience the Church institution as something alienating. The fact is that the image of the Church projected by Leo XIII, Pius X1 and Pius XI1 has largely disappeared, and new images are struggling to emerge. There is a significant amount of writing on various "models of the Church."32 We all know that institutions, in this earthly phase of things, are as necessary for the Church's presence and action as the body is for the self's. We must of course take care of the body and control it, since here, too, an overly heavy body can impede the action of the individual spirit. 4. Ministerial Openness to the World Another group of factors that seems to constitute a characteristic trend in today's religious life is the positive reevaluation of the world and of the reli-gious life as service to the Church and the world.33 Isaac Hecker introduced a typically American sensibility into spirituality by underscoring the positive character of the encounter of grace with our humanity, and by consistently speaking of this encounter in positive terms.3a The classic synthesis of Thomas Aquinas began to reappear with new accents. In the United States today, there are many spiritualities which evaluate the created world positively, and asso-ciate spiritual progress with overall progress (holiness/wholeness). In Europe, Louvain accustomed us to a theology of earthly values.35 In France, where great stress had always been laid on the Incarnation, a high value was placed on Christian presence among the masses (the priest-worker movement). Vati-can II, above all in Gaudium et Spes, gave us a realistic vision of the world that was rich in positive traits. John XXIII's Pacem in Terris decidedly opted for democratic social values. All of this has had its impact on the life of the Church. Secular Institutes are precisely secular institutions that aim at enliven-ing the human and civil "world" from within. The charisms of the religious life are now spoken of, not as gifts to help us flee from the world, but rather as gifts that enable us to penetrate the world more deeply, in order to transcend it. We no longer speak of afuga mundi, but rather of a penetration of the world, in order to induce it to return to its Creator, and transcend itself. Thomas Merton personified this "return to the world" movement in almost paradigmatic fashion. His early works, written at a time when he regarded the Abbey of Gethsemani as "the only real city in America,"36 reflect the critical reactions of a convert, as well as a somewhat elitist monastic theology. In Seeds of Contemplation (1949), the theme of a holy person's positive outlook on the world alternates with a negative view of the secular city from which the Trends in Religious Life / 493 Christian must strive to escape.37 In The Inner Experience (1959), his attitude toward contemplatives is more realistic, and the possibility of a lived expe-rience of God in the world emerges more clearly,as One can notice an effort to situate contemplation in the living context of everyday life. Contemplation means an indepth look at reality not in order to evade it, but in order to transcend it;39 it supposes a reading of events.4° The new chapter, "Solitude is Not Separation," added to New Seeds of Contemplation,4~ reveals at last a total contemplative openness to the world. Thomas Merton would soon become a prophet of peace and justice. The contemplative--as Teresa of Jesus had experienced long before Merton--is someone who brings the world, its agonies and its ecstasies, before God.42 This phenomenon has occurred frequently in the course 0~" history. We might, in fact, speak of a phasic alternation between periods of Incarnation and periods of Transcendence, although we should add that each swing toward the Incarnational pole has left us definitively closer to the world. The 12th century witnessed a cultural rebirth in which "nature" began to lose its sacral, symbolic value and gained some measure of autonomy.43 The married laity ceased being referred to as "children and weaklings who simply cannot embrace celibacy" (an oft-repeated phrase in earlier ecclesiastical texts),4~ and were instead spoken of as persons who profess the "common rule," that is, the Gospel. The Third Orders of the 13th century owe their existence, in part, to this change of mentality. In an early Franciscan legend, Madonna Povert~ (Lady Poverty) asks a group of Friars to show her their cloister. They lead her to the top of a high hill and show her the whole world, telling her: "This, Lady, is our cloister.-45 Then came what we generally call "the Renaissance," and we fell in love with the philosophers, writers and heroes of the Greco-Roman world. A positive and overly innocent view of the world infiltrated our con-sciousness. Jesuits made their residence in the midst of cities. More than a few institutes of the time chose not to take vows (Oratorians and Eudists). The Daughters of Charity dispers+d through the streets in peasant garb; for them, the world was the space in which the sons and daughters of God were suffer-ing. But there was also Luther's teaching on our "corrupted nature," and Bishop Jansenius and the Port Royalists held the dark view that every human value not explicitly elevated by a supernatural intention is simply sinful. Jansenism, with its excessive moral demands, had a baneful influence on the spirituality of religious. Finally, the trauma of the French and socialist revolu-tions filled religious leaders with fears and misapprehensions, so that they tended to stress the deep incompatibility between the Church and modern society. We were in urgent need of a return to the world. 4.1. A More Positive Vision of the World. For religious, too, the world is the ager dominicus, the Lord's field. It is the creation wounded by our sins, yet fundamentally good; the place where we must live our faith, hope and love, and in which we must work and suffer. This more positive, yet realistic vision of the world has positive consequences and gives rise to its own problematic. 494 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 The distance between the religious and secular worlds has been shortened. The barriers of habits, special buildings and institutions filled with religious sym-bols, have largely fallen. This explains a number of recent developments. In the past, new forms of religious life inexorably fell under the influence of forms that had a longer and more prestigious history: Pachomians and Basilians became monks; canons regular and mendicants adopted a monastic or quasi-monastic way of life; apostolic congregations of women imitated cloistered nuns, etc. In our times, the trend seems to be running in the opposite direction: the traditional forms of religious life are getting closer to the life-style of secular institutes. We are referring here not merely to the absence of habits or the irrelevance of details that were once considered very important in Europe (such as not being allowed to enter a movie-picture theater), but to such truly important items as the near absence of community life or its reduction to a minimum, and to the growing trend toward working in secular institutions. The fact remains, however, that religious life, precisely because its witness is aimed at helping the world transcend itself, must not only incarnate itself in secular culture, but also act as a counterculture.46 Religious life accomplishes this essentially by actualizing the charisms that distinguish it as a form of Christian life: celibacy and community, with a public witness of poverty. Note that we say celibacy, not bachelorhood or the single state, since celibacy is understood as an exclusive commitment to the concerns of the Lord, and as a life lived for the love of the Lord. And this is extremely demanding. So also is the radical self-divestment which characterizes the Christian poverty of a reli-gious: a self-divestment that makes no sense at all except as an act of solidarity with the poor and the outcast. All of this must be reflected in our life-style, attitudes and options. 4.2. An Open Community. Our communities have opened up. The practice of hospitality has been greatly enlarged. Religious are praying and working with groups outside the community proper, thus creating a network of relation-ships. Many of us belong to prayer groups (charismatic or otherwise) or to pastoral teams.47 Monastery guesthouses, especially in the United States, are usually filled with other religious and laypersons who come there to pray. Some contemplative monasteries have opened up to share their prayer life with others on a more permanent basis. The Trappists of Our Lady of Guadalupe have established a Center for Contemplative Studies. The Carmel of the Resurrection in Indianapolis has opened its prayer life to a group of the faithful who pray there. Many small apostolic communities practice an aposto-late of presence by living among the poor. This is something that the mendi-cants strove to do in the 13th century, and which the Little Brothers and Sisters of Jesus reintroduced some decades ago. Obviously, such groups have to manage the difficult task of balancing their openness toward the rest of the Church with the special communion of charism and spirit they must keep among their own members. Trends in Religious Life / 495 4.3. Celibacy and Friendship. One effect of this more optimistic vision of the world and of the human person in the world has been the rediscovery of the positive and fully human vision of celibacy expressed in the New Testament. Although Jesus, in his logion about eunuchs (Mt 19:12), was defending a spiritual impotence caused by a strong commitment to the Kingdom, Paul tells us, .in a positive way, that being celibate for the sake of the Gospel consists in living lives exclusively dedicated to the concerns of the risen Lord (his Church, his poor), and for his love (1 Co 7:32-34). Celibacy is both a commitment and a relationship of love in which we can grow, and not simply a state defined by non-bonding to another person in matrimony,as The focus of today's religious has shifted, significantly, from chastity to celibacy as a way of life. From yet another point of view, the modern notion of the human being has highlighted (sometimes excessively) our sexual condition. Sexuality is rightly understood as a positive reality,49 in which affective balance plays an important part. Thus conceived, sexuality is being incorporated into a positive and inclusive vision of celibacy. It might be noted, in passing, that religious, like others in this rich culture which is concerned with overeating, also engage in sports and look after their body and physical appearance. But it must be admitted ihat the fall of barriers in this context (locked doors, permissions to go out, opened mail, the habit, etc.) also eliminated a series of social pressures aimed at protecting celibacy. Just as the permanence of marriages is now left to married couples themselves (since urban and indus-trialized society, unlike rural societies of the past, undermines rather than upholds the stability of marriage), so celibacy is left to the grace of God and the responsibility of the individual. The community can offer little help to those in crisis, except prayer and friendship. A positive evaluation of friend-ship has important consequences in this area. The husband-wife relationship is beginning to pale as the only model for male-female relationships. Friendships between religious and persons of the opposite sex (whether priests, religious or laity) are now more feasible and frequentP° This is, of course, not something completely new: a good number of saints, especially founders and foundresses, seem to have come in pairs. But now there is a greater awareness of the implications and values of friendship as a help toward celibate balance, which it indeed can be. But this is still fragile ground, because of the possibility of being "carried away," and because the word "friendship" often covers a number of relationships of diverse intensityPI The celibate is committed to live exclusively for the concerns of the Lord and for his love, and this rules out not just physical relationships, but also exclusive affective commitments. This means that certain affecfive needs of the celibate cannot be satisfied directly, but must be diverted into channels of loving service. 4.4. The Poor: the New "Desert. ,~2 Religious feel a lively interest and concern for the world of which they are part. This is quite apparent in questions of justice. In a host of ways, religious have been associated with works of charity 498 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 throughout history. But today there is a clearer consciousness that not a few evils have social roots, and that religious in a democratic society have a great opportunity to work collectively and individually in defense of the weak and the oppressed. Most of us (even religious dedicated to social works) inherited a vision of poverty that did not have much of an express or lived relationship to the poor of the world. It was a poverty fit for a neoplatonic or neopythagorean community: a poverty understood as a form of personal purification and as a means for arriving more readily at contemplation. The important thing was dependence on the superior, and great individual austerity. On an analogy with the Synoptic saying of Jesus, "Sell what you have and give to the poor" (Mk 10:21 and par.), one might say that the monks of the desert, who worked hard to support the poor, fulfilled the second part of the saying ("and give to the poor"), whereas later religious stressed the first part ("sell what you have"). In Evangelica Testificatio, Paul V1 brought the Church's teaching on religious poverty back to its origins by beginning the section on poverty with a call to hear "the cry of the poor.'~3 If all Christian poverty is a descent with Christ into the hell of human suffering--a participation in his kenosis (cf. 2 Co 8:9)54--then the testimonial poverty of religious should signal an abandonment of the world's logic and a crossing over its borders into the new desert which, especially in today's materialistic society, is constituted by the poor. A number of religious have abandoned their houses in middle-class neigh-borhoods and have gone to live with the poor in ghettoes. Whole institutes have declared in their chapters a preferential option for evangelizing the poor. Religious men and women have joined other Christians in their struggle for the liberation of the poor, especially in Latin America and the Philippines. In the United States, some religious have run for national or state office in defense of minorities, while others have been appointed to posts of particular social significance. Many U.S. religious are committed to a variety of social causes: disarmament, human rights in the Third World, the fights of the unborn, the rights of homosexuals, ecology, the struggle against a capitalism that would sacrifice human lives for economic gain (the Nestle boycott), and so forth. Here again, there are problems and difficulties. For one thing, it is easier for those living in well-to-do environments to protest abuses (as they must) than it is to protect themselves against the contagion of a consumerist society. Those who are truly and deeply committed to the defense of the poor know that they can carry out their work only by becoming poor themselves. Our poverty is also a protest against a materialistic interpretation of life, and hence must be manifested in personal and collective simplicity and austerity. Those who personally commit themselves to poverty run the risk of mere improvisa-tion, or of being manipulated by others. One thinks of the way certain reac-tionary thinkers have tried to use Mother Teresa of Calcutta, proposing her as an example of what all religious should be doing--which they interpret as "athering up the dying from the sidewalks (which is undoubtedly a heroically ~eautiful act of Christian love), and then leaving the world to the powers that Trends in Religious L~fe / 497 be (which would undoubtedly be an act of unChristian cowardice, since the one behind the "powers that be" is often Satan, the first murderer). Manipulation, though, is also practiced from a revolutionary viewpoint. There is a danger of becoming involved in partisan politics that pursue a determined type of society. The religious and the Christian as such do not have a distinctive political model, but only a set of fundamental principles (Pacem in Terris), according to which they raise their voice in protest against all forms that oppress and manipulate the sons and daughters of God. Great maturity is requi~ed for a commitment of this kind. One must be prepared to lose one's life: witness the example of our martyrs in Central America. 4.5. Serving in a Secular Milieu. With growing frequency, religious men and Women are making a commitment in various types of human service that are not specifically religious in nature, and are performed in a secular environ-ment. We are r~ferring here mainly to those religious who are engaged in the investigation and teaching of profane disciplines. Religious have been doing this for centuries, of course, but as an integral part of a ministry of Christian edui:ation that was meafit to culmin~ite in catechesis. Now, we encounter a new element in that these services are being carried on in the heart of secular centers. The impact of this environment and the great demand for professional preparation it calls for can profoundly affect the spirit of a religious. This is perhaps most true of religious who practice psychotherapy in its various forms. Here,/he "secular environment" is internal. The religious has to operate with a series Of symbols, vocabularies and techniques in which religious experience is often treated either in the Context of psychological aberration, or else (as with .lung) in that of a psychic activity that neither includes nor excludes grace. Helping one's neighbors in their psychological problems, or contributing to their overall growth as persons, is just as religious an activity as helping cure their bodies, but it can create difficulties for religious therapists. Oftentimes they are living in an environment quite different from a traditional religious community, which was pervaded by religious symbols and community acts. In such cases, religious will often have to struggle in order to integrate their professional service into the framework Of their community's proper spiritual-ity. Service also tends to change meaning for religious who work as medical or nursing personnel in modern hospitals, with their intense activity and the difficulties they present for establishing personal relationships with the sick, since there are so many to attend, and the turnover is so rapid. 5. Religious Life Reinterpreted 5.1. A More Profound Notion of the Religious Ltfe. The Second Vatican Council, by setting its teaching on the religious life squarely in the context of the life of the Church and of the universal call to holiness, forced theologians to rethink this particular vocation. A significant index of this rethinking is reflected in a change in the bibliography on the religious life. During the first half of this century, it focused on canon law and ascetical conferences or 49~1 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 retreats for religious; from the Council onwards, bibliographical entries of a theological character began to multiply. New Testament exegesis began to put question marks after the texts on which some founders had based their move-ments. Often enough, disturbingly, exegetes answered these questions in the negative: "This is not what these biblical texts were saying." Moreover, the full incorporation of the secular laity into the life and holiness of the Church obliged us to rethink the relationship that exists between the call to the reli-gious life and the general call to perfection, as well as that which exists between religious life and secular life. In more than one case, the Council had felt obliged to use categories drawn from Scholasticism, in a clear effort at expanding its teaching. Concomitantly, however, scholars were at work compiling critical studies of the sources of the religious life (Pachomius, Basil, Augustine, the anonymous author of the Regula MagistrL Benedict, Francis, early Jesuit texts, etc.). These historical investigations have given us a much better knowledge of the development of the religious life. The works of Tillard, Boff, Sebastian, Moloney and others, as well as the publications of the Religious Life Institutes in Rome and Madrid, and those of the Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality (to all three of Which I have made my personal contribution), are developing a work of synthesis that has become necessary. 5.2. Religious Life: a Parable of Discipleship. In Lumen Gentium and Perfec-tae Caritatis, the Second Vatican Council abandoned the notion of "state of perfection," which had somehow crept into Sacrosanctum Concilium (the Constitution on the Liturgy), written in the period before the council began to reflect expressly on the religious life.55 All Christians are committed to growth in the perfection to which they are called in baptism, confirmation, the Eucha-rist and reconciliation, and (for some) eventually in matrimony. The religious life is no longer to be thought of as the only state in which one professes to be tending toward perfection. In Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of the Religious Life, I tried to demonstrate how religious life is a form of disciple-ship, and that the significance of the religious life consists in its being a living parable of the Gospel for all. As a form of life, the religious life is summoned to remind all Christ's disciples of the demand to follow him. It is a type of prophetic life, neither more nor less. This leaves room for secular Christians to achieve the full stature of their incorporation into evangelical spirituality. For the important thing is not the parable, but the lived life of the Christian way, to which the parable points. 5.3. Return to Charism. Another important aspect of contemporary religious life is the fact that, thanks mainly to the invitation of Perfectae Caritatis, religious institutes, especially in their chapters of renewal, have set about reflecting on their own charisms. These institutes now seem to have a far better knowledge of their vocation and spirit in the Church. The Church itself is enriched by this variety of charisms. The popes have frequently referred to this Trends in Religious L~fe / 499 theme in discussing the identity of religious families. 5.4. Turning Toward Others. Nevertheless, something new is happening. A few years back, religious institutes often gave the impression of being overly exclu-sive in promoting their own interests. There was too much insistence on "our own." Today, religious communities collaborate with one another in common novitiate programs. There are theologates (the Central Theological Union in Chicago and the General Theological Union in Berkeley are obvious exam-ples) in which students from various institutes study, pray together and inter-relate in many ways, thus mutually enriching one another without losing their identity. And there are numerous religious institutes collaborating in apostolic works, both with one another and with lay team members. The sense of belonging to the one Church of Christ is thus manifested in a forceful manner. 6. Lifelong Commitment One aspect which involves considerable suffering for many religious, and which is brought up with some frequency in public meetings and private conversations, is the meaningfulness of a perpetual commitment to the reli-gious life, and even the legitimacy of norms that impose this sort of commit-ment toward the end of one's initiation or formation. Obviously, the discussion of this theme is less related to the influence of any specific philosophy than it is to the fact that our society seems to be much more sensitive to change than to continuity. In our society, for several different reasons, it is not rare for persons to change careers at a certain age. Even marriage seems to be becom-ing more fragile.~6 6. I. A Personal Commitment. In contradistinction to a one-time or short-term commitment to do some thing, a commitment to a type of life is a personal project that requires a certain amount of time to make. Human beings develop gradually. A promise or decision to be celibate or to live for the love of someone else for just a fewdays or weeks would really be tantamount to a commitment to do some thing, rather than a life decision to be a determined type of man or woman. The commitment to love is, of its very nature, indefi-nite as to time. It tends to be projected over a whole lifetime. The fact is that, when a human being loves or chooses to give himself or herself on a deep level, he or she cannot include the idea of a temporal limit in such a choice (although there may be an implicit recognition of the possibility of failure), since this would be restricting one's love or self-gift. By making a commitment of one-self, a person aims at putting his or her love above time and its changes. 6.2. A Commitment to God. A commitment to the religious life entails a commitment to build one's life with an orientation toward certain religious ideals: living in a particular way, in celibacy and in community. Here, the depth of human commitment is at its greatest, since it is gauged by a relation-ship with God. In this case, understandably, our intention must exclude every temporal limit, even when we are making a temporal commitment. We want 5lll~ / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 to be this type of Christian and human being on the deepest level, before God and in the Church. This is a quite different kind of commitment than that made by a person who would simply like to be associated with the life, spirituality and ministry of a religious community for a set period of time. One thinks, for example, of the existing practice in Thailand whereby all boys, as a sort of analogue of military service, must spend several months in a Buddhist monastery. This sort of procedure might well be adopted, in a more systematic way, for certain types of associates of Christian religious communities. But this kind of temporal commitment, even when made on a more conscious and voluntary basis, would never suffice to constitute the person making it a religious. Our temporal vows are truly vows, to the extent that the person making them has the intention of orienting his or her whole life in this manner. 6.3. A Statement of Commitment. The real problem here refers to the public formulation of this intention to make a perpetual commitment. To express ourselves publicly and socially is an essential trait of our human nature, which never exists in a vacuum of pure interiority, but tends to unfold itself in explicit relationship with others. We already made our perpetual commitment when we responded to our vocation, before entering a community. We made it with a certain tension, with some misgivings, and sometimes even with anguish; yet we entrusted our weakness to the grace of the God who called us. On profess-ing, we renewed this response to God, but this time we did so publicly, before God and through the community, we committed ourselves to God through this community. Our commitment, then, took on an ecclesial character. This was normal and as it should be because promising to be celibate, to live in evangelical poverty and in community is not just an act that relates us directly to God. Rather, it is an act that relates us to God in his Church. Celibacy is not just the love of God, but also a great love of his sons and daughters. This does not rule out our foreseeing possible failures, or even the hypo-thetical possibility that certain experiences and circumstances might make us change. This commitment is made by human persons, with the understanding that they are expressing their actual intention, in the hope that this intention will perdure. But since fidelity in this matter is the work of grace, we place all our forces in God's hands. A religious vow or promise is at once a manifesta-tion of our intention and a petition for grace: "This is what I intend to be, so help me God." The person who makes a vow can change, can fail, or can discover that this was not to be his or her permanent vocation. There are canonized saints who, after years of profession, left their communities when they discovered that God was calling them along another way. For all these reasons, the Church wisely grants dispensations from these commitments. A dispensation dissolves the canonical aspects of one's commitment, leaving the person with his or her responsibility before God intact. Upon receiving their dispensations, these Christians remain in God's presence, just as they did at the time they believed Trends in Religious Life they had received a call from God and answered it. 7. A Prophetic Minority? The aerial photograph we promised at the beginning of this survey is not yet complete. We still need to include in it one of the most visibly preoccupying concerns for many religious and for the Church's ministers: the scarcity of vocations to the religious life which we are presently experiencing. There is no need for us to go into statistical details. All we have to do is to look at the inexorably upward trend in the median age of the members of most religious communities in the northern hemisphere. We can only suppose that what we are looking at is precisely a lack of vocations (God is calling fewer men and women to the religious life), and not a lack of correspondence to a wider call. We must suppose this, both because we do not have access to the heavenly archives, and because we find it hard to believe that human beings are cur-rently putting up a greater resistance to grace than they did in the days when our houses were filled to the rafters. One fact confirms us in our rejection of an unduly pessimistic view of the present generation: the growing number of vocations to the ministry outside the clergy and outside religious institutes. People continue to cite a whole litany of causes in order to explain the current dearth of candidates for the religious life: economic reasons (greater opportunities exist elsewhere today); social reasons (secularized environment, lowered prestige of the religious state, easier relations among young people of both sexes, sexual liberation, smaller families of the "one girl-one boy" type); psychological reasons (the identity crisis of religious makes religious life less attractive; pessimism or a lost sense of belonging leads religious to work less at promoting vocations); theological reasons (the religious life is not the only state for attaining Christian perfection). We would not like to indulge in a discussion of the many reasons alleged to explain this phenomenon. We would, however, like t.o point out that we are not talking about a scarcity of persons who want to enter a religious community, but about the considerably smaller number of persons who show clear signs of having a true vocation to the religious life. All you have to do is run a few ads in the right publications, and you will soon be swarming with requests. Some of these aspirants very soon reveal data that indicate their unfitness for the religious life. A few more serious cases must be rejected somewhat later, either after psychological testing or afte~ a few days of shared life. Present-day religious life requires stronger and more balanced personalities than was the case in the past. Formerly, less well-balanced personalities could be kept in line by a tougher practice of authority and by the more disciplinary type of community that then prevailed. Permit me to make a few observations. Until two or three decades ago, becoming a priest or a religious was the only route that enabled a Christian to consecrate his or her life to ministry in the Church. Of course, there were many Christians who were dedicated to charitable Works and catechesis on a part- 502 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 time basis. But if they wanted to orient their whole life to one of these minis-tries, they had no recourse but to become priests or religious. The need was even greater in the case of women, since they did not have a choice between secular priesthood and the religious life. Any woman who wanted to commit her life to a ministery of charity or catechesis, had to become a religious. The call to one was automatically interpreted as a call to the other. But today it is possible, though at times difficult, for a Christian to be committed to a minis-try without becoming a priest or a religious. In the past, every time a new form of religious life, better adapted to the conditions of the time, appeared, there tended to be a diminution of candidates for the forms that had prevailed up to that time. Before the 12th century, Europe had numerous monasteries; next, it witnessed the rise of whole armies of mendicants; at length, the mendicants had to share the scene with clerks regular. Also in Europe, until about the middle of the last century, there were cloistered convents in most middle-sized towns. But with the foundation of numerous apostolic congregations for women, the number of cloistered con-vents diminished considerably. Today, secular institutes and other associations of Christian life have appeared on the scene. Moreover, the Church has begun to open up its ministries to laypersons who have no connection with any institution. This must necessarily lead to a reduction in the number of candi-dates for the religious life. Hence, we should not be talking about a lack of vocations in an unquali-fied way, because the Spirit of the Lord is continuing to call Christians of all sorts to a whole gamut of commitments. We should joyfully accept the Spirit's will. It is quite possible--given our inveterate resistance in this respect--that the only way the secular laity will be able to take their rightful place in the Church's ministry will be through a considerable reduction in the number of priests and religious. Hard as some of us may find it to accept these persons on equal terms, despite their manifest charisms and responsibilities, the Spirit of the Lord may oblige us to accept them out of necessity. Does this mean that religious life in its traditional forms is destined in the future, even more than in the present and the past, to become a minority life-style? That is certainly a possibility, although we would not like to hazard such a prediction. Because history has passed through so many ups and downs, turns and returns, visions and revisions, it ill becomes a historian, who has a hard enough task sorting out the vagaries of the past, to presume to know the future. But if things did happen to turn out in the way we have hypothesized, there would be nothing to be surprised at. After all, we have described the religious life as a prophetic calling. And isn't a truly prophetic mission always and essentially a minority calling? Trends in Religious Life NOTES ~Thomas Dubay offers one answer in What is Religious ~fe? Questions Religious are Asking (Denville, N.J.: Dimension Books, 1979), pp. 32-34. See C. Maloney, "Evangelization and Social Change," Religious and the Evangelization of the World, Donum Dei Series, no. 21 (Ottawa: Publications of the Canadian Religious Conference, 1974), p. 63. See also B. Boyce, C.SS.R., "A Sociological Appraisal of the New Trends," New Trends in Religious L~fe, Donum Dei Series, no. 14 (1969), p. 135. 2Thaddre Matura, O.F.M., The Crisis of Religious l_zfe (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1974). 3Karl Rahner, S.J., "Toward a Fundamental Theological Interpretation of Vatican I1,~ Theologi-cal Studies 40 (1979), p. 717. 4John XXIII, Mater et Magistra, AAS 53 (1961), p. 417. Gaudium et Spes, no. 74, Vatican Council I!: The Conciliar and Post Conciliar Documents, ed. Austin Flannery (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1975), p. 981. ~Constitutions S.J., ch. IV, 10, no. 5; Claretian Constitutions (1865), I, no. 31. sViatorians (1979), no. 52; de La Salle (1976), no. 140. I; Precious Blood Sisters, O'Fallon, p. 54; Combonians (1979), no. 103; Christian Brothers, (E. Rice), no. 247. 7Sisters of Charity of the Incarnate Word, no. 26; Marianists, Rule of l_zfe (1981), no. 39; Stigmatines (1977), no. 17. See especially Sisters of Mercy, Covenant, Fellowship and Total Growth, pp. F 4-5; Combonians, no. 42. 8This idea forms the background for the sections on the vows in many revised constitutions. 9St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 2-2, q. 184 a 3; q. 188 a 2; St. Bonaventure, Apologia Pauperum, ch. 3, no. 3. See Lumen Gentium, no. 44, Flannery, pp. 403-.404. ~0The theme of varidus personal gifts appears frequently in the new constitutions. See Sisters of St. Joseph, Core Constitutions, no. 38; Combonians, Rule of Life, nos. 38. I, 42; de La Salle (1976), p. 36; B.V.M., no. 3; Marists (1968), no. 51; Stigmatines (1977), no. 17; St. Joseph of Peace (1981), p. 6; Ursulines of Belleville (1982), no. 33; Sinsinawa Dominicans, no. 10. ~Cited in Paulist Provisional Constitutions (1970), no. 9. ~2Society of the Precious Blood, no. 39; Sisters of Mercy, Core Constitutions, p. 27; 31st Congre-gation of the Society of Jesus, Decree 17, no. 7 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977), p. 161. ~3Quentin Hakenewerth, S.M., ~lllustrations of Fundamental Choices and Their Consequences," Religious Life Tomorrow, Donum Dei Series, no. 24 (1978), p. 187. ~4Claretians, no. 102 ff.; Piarists, no. 131 ff.: Combonians, no. 105 ft.; School Sisters of Notre Dame, II, no. 8 ff.; Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, no. 25 ft.; Society of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, no. 138 ff. ~Scalabrinians, no. 10; Society of Mary, no. 34 ff.; Society of the Precious Blood, no. 6 ft. 16No. 40, Flannery, pp. 698-699. 17No. 14, Flannery, pp. 619-620. ~SThe vocabulary of the revised constitutions on this theme, and the very horizons on which they move, reveal a new sensibility. When one compares them to the relevant sections in Petfectae Caritatis, one sees that the latter opened but a single door. A smaller number of constitutions chose to remain within the limits in which the conciliar decree moves. tgSee Jesuits, 31st General Congregation, Decree 17, pp. 157-166. z°Perfectae Caritatis, no. 3, Flannery, p. 613. 2~J. Doyle, B.V.M., "Choose Life," Religious Life Tomorrow, Donum Dei Series, no. 24 (1978), pp. 28-31. ~2See M. Linscott, "The Religious Woman in the Church,~ Way Supplement 19 (1973), pp. 45-62. 23No. 44, Flannery, pp. 402-403. ~lbid., pp. 403-405. Z~Hakenewerlh, art. cit., p. 186. 26"Normae secundum quas S. Congregatio Episcoporum et Regularium procedere solet in approbandis novis lnstitutis votorum simplicium." Published by Ladislaus Ravasi, C.P. in De Regulis et Constitutionibus Religiosorum (Roma: Desclee, 1958), pp. 188 ft. To be excluded 504 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 from the constitutions: quotations from the Holy Scriptures, Councils and Fathers. (n. 27), ascetic instructions, spiritual exhortations, mystical considerations (no. 33). 27Documents of the 31st and 32nd General Congregations of the Society of Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1979), Decree 4, nos. 58-59, p. 413. 2sPoid., no. 74, p. 436. ~9Scanning the bibliography on discernment during the last 15 years (published by the Religious Formation Conference), I have counted I I articles in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ! I in Way Sup-plement, 3 in Sisters Today, and 2 each in The Way and Spiritual Ltfe. 30Saint Francis of Assisi, Rule 1221, Foreword and Cho 19; Rule 1223, ch. I; ch. 9; Testament. See Writings and Early Biographies (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1973), pp. 3 I, 46, 57, 63, 67. 3~Saint Ignatius of Loyola, "To have the true sentiment which we ought to have in the Church Militant," Ist Rule. See David L. Fleming, The Spiritual Exercises (Saint Louis: The Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978), p. 230. 32See Avery Dulles, S.J., Models of the Church (Garden City, NY, Doubleday, 1974). 33Cardinal Suenen's The Nun in the World (Westminster: The Newman Press, 1963), an invita-tion to the renewal of women's religious life issued during the Council, started with a chapter on the world, followed by a chapter on women and their emancipation. The book was highly successful in its time. ~See Martin Kirk, C. M. F., "The Spirituality of Isaac Thomas Hecker: Reconciling the American Character and the Catholic Faith" (doctoral dissertation, Saint Louis University, 1980). 3~See Gustave Thils, Theologie des Realitbs Terrestres (Bruges: Desclre de Brouwer, 1946). An epoch-making book. By the same author: Christian Attitudes (Chicago: Seepper, 1959), 96 pp. 3rThe Secular Journal, April 7, 1941, (New York: Noonday, 1977), p. 183. 37Seeds of Contemplation (Norfolk: New Directions, 1949), pp. 20-23; 60-61. 3gTexts from the Inner Experience published by William H. Shannon, Thomas Merton's Dark Path, The Inner Experience of a Contemplative (New York: Farrar-Straus-Giroux, 1981), pp. 136-141. 3gIbid., p. 131. 4°Ibid., p. 124. a~New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions, 1974), pp. 52-63. 4~Saint Teresa of Jesus, Way of Perfection, 1,2; 3, I; Mansions, Epilogue, 4. 43M.-D. Chenu, O.P., Nature, Man and Society in the Twelfth Century (University of Chicago Press, 1968). 44See John M. Lozano, C.M.F., Discipleship: Towards an Understanding of the Religious Life (Chicago: Claret Center for Resources in Spirituality, 1980), pp. 49-53. *s Sacrum Commercium, no. 63, St. Francis of Assisi: Omnibus of Sources (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1973), p. 1593. 46John F. Kavanaugh, S.J., has given particular attention to this theme in his Following Christ in a Consumer Society (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1981), pp. 131-142. ~TThe Constitutions of the Sisters of Charity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, in the first chapter, contain this significant text on the new attitude: "Since we participate simultaneously in various communities--the world community, the Christian community, the entire B.V.M. community and the local community--it is the responsibility and privilege of each sister to'contribute to each of these communities according to her gifts and circumstances" (no. 3). ~See Lozano, op. cit., pp. 142-170. ~9Marc Oraison, The Celibate Condition and Sex (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1967). See D. Goergen, The Sexual Celibate (New York: Seabury, 1975); K. Clarke, O.F.M. Cap., An Expe-rience of Celibacy (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Mafia, 1982). ~°Also significant is the number of articles published lately on friendship between religious and persons of the opposite sex they are oriented to. In Sisters Today, M. Neuman, O.S.B., has published two articles (October 1974 and November 1976), and J. Becker has published one (May 1979). In REVIEW FOR RELIGIOrdS. 1 counted four: C. Kiesling (July 1971), T. Dubay (November 1977), B. O'Leary (March 1980) and V. Peter (March-April 1982). There is another by Y. E. Raguin in Way Supplement 19. Trends in Religiou~ Life / 505 s~Some constitutions and complementary statutes now speak positively of the relationship between friendship in general and celibacy: Marianists, Rule ofl_zfe, 11, no. 2.4; Piarists, no. 57; Sisters of Charity of the B.V.M., no. 33; Sinsinawa Dominicans, no. 13; Sisters of Saint Joseph of Lagrange, Working Document (1979), no. 42. Some texts treat of the relationship between celibacy and friendship with Christ: Jesuits, 31st General Congregation, Decree 15, no. 8, p. 152; Combonians, no. 26.1. Or they speak of friendship as the fruit of celibacy: Jesuits, op. cir., pp. 152-153; Brothers of the Christian Schools, 5d. Or they view friendship as a defense of celibacy: Jesuits, ibid. Other texts restrict their remarks to friendships within the community: Stigmatines (1982), no. 15; Holy Cross (men), no. 65; Scalabrinians, no. 80. s2Sce A. Cussianovich, S.D.B., Religious Life and the Poor (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1979). S3Evangelica Testificatio, no. 17, Flannery, p. 688; Sacrosanctum Concilium, nos. 98, 101. ~See Lozano, op. cir., ~Poverty and the Kenosis of Christ,~ pp. 191-192. ~SSacrosanctum Concilium, no. 98, 101 (December 4th, 1963), A. Flannery (pp. 27, 28) translates "religious. ~ ~6On this theme, see T. Matura, O.F.M., op. cit., pp. 72-78. The Religious as Witness The new society of love cannot be built in the future if the quality of love does not change. You are the privileged sign of this new love destined to change the world. Your love, "different" from other loves, is the image of God's love. And so your life, evangelically lived and donated, becomes, through your sincere and pure love for mankind, a convincing witness of the love of the Father who is in heaven. Here is your role in the Church. your most authentic vocation. And it is in this way that you, like Mary who believed in the word and the love of the Lord, contribute to the mission of Jesus to create the new world. And that you may live and give Christ's charity more fully, the Church exhorts you to return to the authentic spirit of the founders, to their intentions and to wholesome traditions.--John Pdul 11, To the Women Religious in Albano, 19 September, 1982. L'Osservatore Romano, 11 October, 1982, p. 5. Constitutions and the Revised Code of Canon Law David F. O'Connor, S.T. Father O'Connor is Chairman of the Department of Church Law at The Washington Theologi-cal Union. He resides at Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Ave.; Silver Spring, MD 20903. On January 25, 1983, Pope John Paul II promulgated the revised Code of Canon Law, effective as the universal law of the Church for the Latin Rite on November 27, 1983, the First Sunday of Advent. While the revised Code contains nothing startling or surprising in its treatment of the consecrated life, it does bring a needed stability with its clearly stated practical ecclesial expecta-tions concerning post-Vatican II religious life. The canons reassert many of the things stated already by the Fathers of Vatican 11 and in the documents of the post-Conciliar Church. An examination of the canons and their b~i~kground manifests a fidelity to the theology of these ecclesial documents. The 1983 revised Code states in canons 578 and 587 that the constitutions must faithfully express and preserve the mind of the Founder, the spirit and character of the institute, its nature, purposes and wholesome traditions, as part of its patrimony. The constitutions must also contain those fundamental norms required by the Church for the governance of the institute, the discipline of its members, the content of the vows, as well as those norms necessary to express the formation and incorporation of its members and the proper order-ing of the institute. They should fittingly combine both spiritual-ascetical ele-ments with the practical-juridical ones (canon 587 § 3). Once approved, this fundamental code can not be changed without the consent of the proper ecclesiastical authority (canon 587, § 2). Ecclesial Approbation of Religious Institutes and Their Constitutions Through the formal ecclesial approbation .of the constitutions or funda- 506 Constitutions and the Revised Code / 5117 mental book of each institute, the authority of the Church brings into existence the institutes as an ecclesial body or confirms it if it is already established. Constitutions have always been of great importance to institutes because they are particular and specific to each religious family. They help articulate the identity, mission and life-style of the institute and its members. Unfortunately, in the early part of the century this uniqueness was often overshadowed and submerged when constitutions were forced into an excessive conformity with other norms. As a result, there was an inappropriate similarity between many of the constitutions because they were saddled with details, secondary ele-ments, minutiae and multiple regulations which made them all somewhat identical in style and content and overly rigid in form. This was due principally to the Normae of 1901. Consequently, constitutions appeared to be only a verbatim repetition of those norms so that their individuality was lost. This pattern was altered by the Vatican II revisions required by Perfectae caritatis, 3 and 4, and Ecclesiae sanctae, If, 6-11. Fundamentally the revised Code reaffirms the place of religious institutes as progeny of the Church and gifts of the Holy Spirit (canons 575 and 577). In accordance with Lumen gentium, 43, the Code states that it is the authority of the bishops which, recognizing the work of the Spirit, brings into ecclesial existence the various religious institutes (canon 573). It is the right and duty of the pastors of the Church, the bishops, to interpret the evangelical counsels and determine how they are to be practiced and lived by those in the conse-crated life (canon 576). It is this hierarchical recognition which guarantees that the members are living a gospel life which contributes to the building up of the Church (canons 576 and 577). Historically, those groups of pious and well-meaning people who did not receive, or lost ecclesial approbation, often ended up in some form of spiritual aberrancy, schism or heresy, such as the followers of Peter Waldo or the Fraticelli of the middle ages. Today, those religious who are inclined to question the necessity of their affiliation with the pastors of the Church may risk a similar fate. Effect of the Revised Code With the revised Code going into effect, the 1917 Code and all other general or particular disciplinary laws of the Church which are contrary to or treat the same matter as the 1983 Code are abrogated (canon 6, § l) as of November 27, 1983. Therefore, many of the things which were in the 1917 Code no longer are part of the revised Code and are not required to be in the constitutions or the proper law of institutes. For example, nothing is required regarding a period of postulancy, a dowry, or the necessity to have the local Ordinary or his delegate at the election of certain superior generals, as was required in the 1917 Code. This means that institutes will have to determine for themselves whether or not they want to retain some of these things as part of their own law. The retention of some period of"postulancy" may seem to be a prudent and wise one. However, each institute is free to determine this for 508 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 itself. If an institute decides to do so, the matter becomes what canonists refer to as praeter ius, something that is required by the proper law of the institute which goes beyond the requirements of the universal law of the Church. Competency of the Roman Congregations Even though the 1983 Code abrogates all existing disciplinary law when it concerns matters which are treated in the revised Code, this does not imply that the dicasteries of the Apostolic See cease to enjoy a certain authority to make requirements not contained in the universal law. For example, the Sacred Congregation of Religious and Secular Institutes could require some-thing the 1983 Code does not require. In the approval of new constitutions, the SCRSI can require that the essential profession formula of an institute appear in the proper law of that institute. Simply because the universal law does not require this to be done does not imply that it is beyond the competence of SCRSI to do so. Also, the SCRSI certainly retains some competence to make exceptions to requirements of the universal law. Possibly, even though the new Code requires that religious profess vows and not promises (canon 607, § 2), the SCRS1 may be able to grant an exception to a particular institute which can make a good case for retaining a practice which it had during the post- Vatican II period when experimentation was permitted. The Principle of Subsidiarity and the 1983 Code of Canon Law One of the outstanding characteristics of the revised Code is its application of the principle of subsidiarity. As a principle, subsidiarity means that matters should be treated and decisions made at the level which is the most appropriate one. The most appropriate level may not be the lowest one. Whatever level is judged to be the most appropriate will also be the level of responsibility and accountability. The revised Code, therefore, unlike the 1917 Code, very fre-quently states that certain matters are to be determined by proper law. In regard to institutes of the consecrated life, the canons of the Code often state that a specific matter be treated in the constitutions or in the ius pro-prium, the proper law, of the institute. While the proper law will often be, in fact, the secondary or complementary books (Directory, Statutes), the term proper law does not exclude the constitutions or the fundamental book. There-fore, when the canons state that the proper law is to determine the matter, it means that the institute can decide to treat the matter in the constitutions and/or the directory. However, when the canons state that the matter is to be treated in the constitutions, it must be in the constitutions, even though it also may be elaborated upon in the directory. What follows is my paraphrasing of excerpts from the canons of the revised Code from the section on Institutes of the Consecrated Life (Book II, Part III, Section I, Titles I and II, ChaPters 1-6), which require, or leave the option for, complementary legislation in the constitutions or the proper law of-an institute. They are meant to be of aid to those religious institutes which are Constitutions and the Revised Code / 509 preparing their constitutions for submission to ecclesiastical authority for approbation, as well as those institutes which have their constitutions apiaroved already, but may have to make adjustments to bring them into harmony with the revised Code. The reader is advised that these do not attempt to paraphrase the complete canon in every case, but only that part which refers to material which must or may be treated in the constitutions or proper law. Canons Requiring Complementary Legislation in the Constitutions or Proper Law 1. Canons Concerning Norms Common to All Institutes C. 578. The mind of the Founders and their plans, ratified by the competent ecclesiastical authority, about the nature, purpose, spirit and character of the institute and its wholesome traditions, all of which constitute the patrimony of the institute itself, must be observed faithfully. (These are among the things which must be in the constitutions according to c. 587, § 1.) C. 581. The constitutions are to determine the competent authority who may divide the institute into parts, join parts, erect new ones or make other such arrangements. C. 587, § 1. In order to protect more faithfully the particular vocation and identity of the institute, the constitutions or fundamental code of an institute must contain and preserve, besides those things stated in can. 578, the fundamental norms about governance of the institute and the discipline of members, the incorporation and training of members, and the proper object of the sacred bonds. C. 587, § 3. Spiritual and juridical matters are to be suitably joined together; moreover, norms are not to be multiplied unless it is necessary. C. 587, § 4. Other norms established by the competent authority of the insti-tute may be appropriately collected into other books which are to be reviewed and adapted to the needs of times and places. C. 596. The authority of superiors and chapters is to be defined in the consti-tutions as well as by the universal law of the Church. C. 598. The constitutions are to define the manner in which the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience are to be lived in the institute. Members are to live the counsels according to the proper law of the institute. 2. Canons Concerning Religious Houses C. 609, § 1. Religious houses are erected by the competent authority as deter-mined in the constitutions, after having received the consent of the diocesan bishop in writing. C. 613, § 1. A religious house of canonical regulars and monks under the authority and care of its own superior is autonomous, unless the constitutions state otherwise. C. 616, § 1. The suppression of a religious house by the Superior General must ~i10 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 be done according to the constitutions and only after the diocesan bishop has been consulted. 3. Canons Concerning Government in the Institute C. 617. The role of a superior is determined according to the proper law of the institute, as well as the universal law of the Church. C. 622. A superior general has power over the whole institute, its provinces, houses, and members, exercising it according to the proper law of the institute; other superiors have power within the limits of their roles. C. 623. In order that members be validly nominated or elected to the office of superior, it is required that they have a fitting time after perpetual profession in the institute as determined by proper law. For major superiors, it is determined by the constitutions. C. 624, § I. Superiors should be constituted as such for a certain and con-venient period of time according to the ~aature and necessities of the institute, unless the constitutions determine otherwise for the Superior General or superiors of autonomous houses. C. 624, § 2. The proper law of the institute should provide suitable norms so that superiors constituted for a definite period of time do not continue for a long time without an interruption in offices of governance. C. 624, § 3. Nevertheless, superiors can be removed from office during their term or transferred to another office for reasons stated in the proper law of the institute. C. 626. When superiors confer an office or when the members participate in elections, they should observe the norms of the universal law and the proper law of the institute, abstaining from any abuse or acceptance of persons, choosing those who, before God, seem most worthy and suitable, having only God and the good of the institute before them. They must not attempt to procure votes, directly or indirectly, for themselves or for others. C. 627, § 1. According to the norm of the constitutions, superiors should have their own council, whose assistance they ought to use in carrying out the work of their office. C. 627, § 2. Besides the cases prescribed in the universal law, the proper law of the institute should determine those cases in which it is required that they seek their consent or advice for the validity of an action according to canon 127, and any other determination of proper law. C. 628, § I. Superiors who are designated for this purpose by the proper law of the institute should conduct visitations of the houses and members entrusted to them at the times designated according to the norms of the proper law. C. 629. Superiors are to reside in their own houses and not absent themselves from their house unless it is according to the norm of the proper law. C. 63 l, § I. The general chapter, which has supreme authority in the institute according to the norm of the constitutions, should be so formed that, repre-senting the whole institute, it should form a true ~ign of its unity in love, and so forth. Constitutions and the Revised Code C. 631, § 2. The composition and ambit of a chapter's authority must be defined in the constitutions. The proper law of the institute should determine the order to be observed in the conduct of the chapter, especially in regard to elections and procedures. C. 631, § 3. According to the norms of the proper law, not only provinces and local communities, but also any member at all has a fight to send freely his wishes and suggestions to the general chapter. C. 632. The proper law determines accurately those things which pertain to any chapter of the institute and to similar bodies, concerning their nature, authority, composition, mode of proceeding and time of meeting. C. 633, § 1. Organs of participation or consultation (committees and commis-sions) should faithfully carry out their duties according to their mandate and the norms of universal and proper law. In some manner, they should express the care and the participation of all members for the good of the whole institute. C. 633, § 2. In establishing these means of participation and consultation and in wisely adhering to them, discretion should be exercised so that the manner of carrying them out may conform to the nature and end of the institute. C. 634, § I. Institutes, provinces and houses, as juridical persons, have the capacity for acquiring, possessing, administering, and alienating temporal goods, unless this capacity is excluded by or limited by the constitutions. C. 635, § 2. Every institute should have appropriate norms for the use and administration of goods so that its poverty is properly fostered, guarded and expressed. C. 636, § 1. Every institute should have a treasurer, distinct from the superior, according to the norms of proper law who will care for the administration of goods under the direction of the superior. Also, every local community is to have a treasurer (bursar) distinct from the local superior. C. 636, § 2. Proper law should also determine the time and the manner for rendering an account to the competent authority. C. 638, § 1. Proper law, within the limits of universal law, determines when an act exceeds the limits and manner of ordinary administration and when an act of extraordinary administration may be placed. C. 638, § 2. Besides superiors, officials designated for this purpose according to the proper law may validly incur expenses and perform other juridical acts of ordinary administration according to their office. 4. Canons Concerning Admission of Candidates and Members of the Institute C. 641. The right to admit candidates to the novitiate belongs to the major superiors according to norms of proper law. C. 643, § 2. The proper law can place additional impediments or conditions to the valid admission of candidates beyond what is required by the Code. C. 645, § 3. The proper law can require other testimony concerning the suita-bility of the candidate and his freedom from impediments besides what is required by the Code. 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 C. 648,§ 2. The constitutions can require time for one or several apostolic experiences outside the novitiate community. However, these are not calcu-lated as part of the twelve months required for the validity of the novitiate. C. 650, § 1. The scope of the novitiate program, under the direction of a novice master, is defined by the proper law of each institute. C. 653, § 2. The novitiate being completed, a novice makes temporary vows or leaves; if there is doubt as to his suitability, he can be given a longer time of probation but not beyond six months. This is done by the major superior according to norms of proper law. C. 655. The time for temporary profession is determined by proper law, but it is not to be less than three nor more than six years. C. 657, § 2. If judged opportune, the period of temporary vows can be extended by the competent superior, according to proper law. But the whole period of temporary vows should not exceed nine years. C. 658. Proper law can also add to the appropriate requirements for the validity of perpetual profession beyond' those stated in this Code. C. 659, § 2. The proper law must define the duration and program of training after first incorporation, being always mindful of the goal and character of the institute, as well as the needs of the religious. 5. Canons Concerning Rights and Obligation~ of Members C. 663, § 3. According to prescriptions of proper law, religious should also celebrate worthily the liturgical hours and other pious exercises. C. 667, § 1. The proper law determines the character and extent of the cloister according to the nature and mission of the institute, always reserving some part of the house solely for religious members. C. 668, § 1. Before first profession, unless the constitutions provide otherwise, the members, animated by the spirit of the gospel, should cede the administra-tion of their temporal goods to whomever they choose, freely disposing of the use and usufruct thereof. C. 668, § 2. With permission of the competent superior, according to norms of proper law, religious may, for a just cause, change the disposition. C. 668, § 3. Pensions, assistance, insurance of whatever kind received by the members are acquired by the institute, unless the proper law states otherwise. C. 668, § 4. With the permission of the superior general, according to the norms of proper law, a member may renounce his goods. C. 668, § 5. If a member does so, anything that comes to him after this belongs to the institute according to the norms of proper law. C. 669, § 1. Religious should wear the habit of the institute, according to the norms of proper law, as a sign of their consecration and witness to poverty. C. 670. The institute ought to supply the members with all that is necessary according to the norms of the constitutions for achieving the end of their vocation. 6. Canons Concerning the Separation of Members from the Institute C. 684, § 4. In the case of the transfer of a professed member to another Constitutions and the Revised Code / 51:3 institute, the proper law of the new institute will determine the time and manner of probation. C. 696, § 2. For the dismissal of a member in temporary vows, even less serious reasons suffice according to the statutes of the proper law. Conclusion While religious institutes are ecclesial bodies subject to the authority of the Church according to the norms of the Code of Canon Law, nevertheless, each institute enjoys a certain autonomy in respect to its own internal life (canon 586). Once the constitutions and the proper law of each institute are approved by ecclesiastical authority,.the institute is expected to go about its internal life without the need for interference from outside agencies. Without doubt, the proper Roman dicasteries have a right, within their competency, to exercise a certain authority and vigilance over institutes of the consecrated life, especially in their relationships to other groups and persons in the Church. However, the particular style of life and the patrimony of each institute will be fostered and safeguarded more surely because of the fact that the revised Code requires (or leaves option for) each institute to determine for itself the specifics of many aspects of its internal life. Over forty canons, in application of the principle of subsidiarity, shift responsibility for the determination of certain matters to the constitutions or proper law of the institute. Therefore, the uniqueness of each religious institute will be made more evident. The rigid conformity, which was the unfortunate consequence of the Normae of 1901 and--to a certain extent--the 1917 Code, will be a thing of the past. The revised Code of Canon Law represents a significant advance in the implementation of the theological understanding which the post-Vatican II Church has of the consecrated life. While no human law is without its limita-t~ ions and deficiencies, the 1983 revised Code should help to foster the devel-opment of a vibrant religious life. Evening Prayer As gently as gravity pulls objects Toward the deepest center of the earth, From my first dawn You exerted this pull. Like a magnet, You attracted me away from other energizing forces And drew me closer and closer in Your magnetic field. Come sunset-- And I hover here, this strong power magnetizing me Even closer within the circle of Your love, The center of Your being Where I belong. Carmelita McKeever, CSJ The College of Saint Rose 432 Western Avenue Albany, NY 12203 Everyone Who Has Left Father and Mother. When a New Missionary Arrives Barry Malone, S.M. Father Malone has set forth his reactions soon after arriving in Lahore from his homeland of New Zealand. Much of this is in the experience of every radical response to Christ. Father Malone teaches at St. Anthony's High School; P.O. Box 61; Lahore, Pakistan. When you get there, you will, of course, experience quite a culture shock. Be prepared for that. It was kind of them to warn me. I had heard already of this "culture shock" and had observed it in others once or twice. Just the process of adaptation--or so I thought. What I am writing now will not, I suppose, be anything like what I will write in six months' time. But, then, part of the experience seems to be being anything but confident about next month, much less about six months' time. Is what I am feeling "culture shock"?. Does the giving of a label to an experience like this help me to own the experience? Or is such a label an aspirin, to help minimize the pain--and maybe even prevent the change that has to take place within me? Culture shock or not, there have been times of joy and excitement as I notice new sights and sounds. There have been moments of wonder and disbelief at finding myself in the midst of Asia and of Islam, in an area steeped in history and saturated with people. But there have been times, too, of being the complete stranger, times of confusion, of disorientation, of fear, of the absence of anything familiar. I can be walking jauntily along the street and be approached by someone: I cannot speak his language, and he cannot speak mine. I can be cycling along 514 Everyone Who Has Left Father and Mother / 515 (guided by my tattered map) only to discover that I'd forgotten I was in the Northern Hemisphere now, and here the midday sun lies to the south--and I am lost yet again. I, so used to school, have to ask my pupils ("Speak very slowly please, boys!") "What is this application? What is checking? What is Basant? Why do you remain standing like that?" I have biked (accidentally) into the middle of a bazaar area, and felt trapped and helpless, until a kind stall-owner had to shift his whole shop to help me squeeze past. Surely you can cope with all that? Yes, but I feel I'm not learning very fast; each confusing event seems to upset me more. The excitement and the novelty of it all has begun to evaporate but the confusion remains. Sometimes just knowing what is going on helps one to accept it all with tranquillity and confidence. But what is going on? What if all that makes sense is the image of the rough and confused underside of a tapestry? But you trust in my guiding hand and the wisdom of my purposes, surely? Surely. But how shallow can such trust be! How glib those remembered phrases from sermons I delivered or counsel I offered. The fragility of an eggshell is not obvious amid the straw of the nest. There seems to be a great desert that lies between the theory of hope, of mission, of pilgrimage, and the reality of this situation, of these people, of this particular phase. Human reasons (and sometimes motives deeper still) are tried: "You're here to replace Father X. He's the ideal person for the important tasks at Y." Of course he is. He would just be marking time here, and his gifts, his many gifts, must be used. But why me? You volunteered and when word came you had months of peace at the very prospect. I had no real idea. Really? Well . You're here to support the others. Fine. They deserve all the support they can get. They've had a rough time of it. But how can 1 support men of such inner strength when I feel the way I do? Anyway, what has been changed by my arrival--except another bread on the paten at Mass each morning, another bowl of soup on the table each evening and, for a few weeks, the laughter at my small repertoire of jokes? Come on! Now you know why the affirmations of farewell flooded in. It was to strengthen you with memories for days like these. But what about the other farewells: "What are you running away from?" "How do you know you're doing the right thing by going?" "Weal be one short here next year: there'll be no replacement for you." It's a year of preparation for the next step. What for,-exactly? Preparation for a real culture shock, when poverty is not just seen but is my lot too, when the language barrier cannot be avoided by staying with an English-speaking community and teaching in an English- 516 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 speaking medium school? Preparation for a land where even cricket is un-known, and to be a priest is to be suspected? What sort of preparation anyway? If I said purification, how would that sound? It sounds awful! But then again it sounds right. What else but purification to describe this sudden and traumatic state with nothing visibly significant to do? Was I still so chained to the merry-go-round of activity for its own sake? Was I really so reliant upon success in tasks and relationships that the lack of any prospect of success is so sour? Was I .(who read so much and reveled in change) really in such a rut that these different people, this strange place, these foreign tongues are so unsettling? Purification. Yes, that's it. One thing has to go, I know, and that is the spirit of giving a performance. Didn't I feel only yesterday, halfway through prayer, that it was a performance for God? And didn't that realization stop me dead and make me ask him to lead me? But purification for what? What kind of purification is it that involves an irritation at the discovery that the English wording of the Our Father here is different from the one I learned thirty-six years ago? What kind of purification is it that makes me so annoyed at the mistakes I made at a game of draughts last night? At draughts, for heaven's sake! What kind of purification is it that makes me feel so awkward when the teachers call me "Sir" and want to shake my hand each morning; when every one of fifteen hundred boys seems to want a personal answer to his "Good morning, Sir"?. What kind of purification is it that makes me feel I'm not coping as I was so used to coping? Why do I feel so suspicious and afraid? Ah, do you hear what you are saying? You were so used to coping! The one who is coping doesn't usually ask for help. Or so l~ve noticed. OK. I need to trust more. I walked the streets of this city; I landed at that chaotic airport; I passed those first homes of the very poor and turned to you and said: "In you, O Lord, I place my trust." Sure you did. Incidentally, I prompted that, you know. But trust now means to let go of that crumbling cliff-face that you're perched on and to hold on to me as l find a path to real safety. But what is this crumbling cliff?. Do I have all that much to let go of?. What do you think? Would my naming things just now really help? Or would it just add to the theory? Let me just gently release those fingers of yours one by one and transfer your weight onto me. It's sort of traumatic and gentle at the same time. Look down if you like, because your part'of the cliff will be down there shortly. So what do I do? Even at prayer I find my requests are selfish and I doubt my sincerity at any noble petition. That's another thing. Why do youpray as if l were unable to speak? Who was it who changed your prayer from "Gift me" to "Please continue to bless me and guide me in your service'? Who prompted your praise for all the good you see in this land of poverty? Is it just a matter of time, then? Everyone Who Has Left Father and Mother / 517 Well, time is not the enemy. I, too, shared the experience of waiting. I endured those sterile sermons in the synagogue and waited for the time when I myself would speak, l know what it's like to wait. l also know what it's like to have to change plans. Do you remember when I was in the Temple, aged twelve? Remember the results of my long retreat in the desert? Then I, discovered my mission was to be done in weakness not comfort, in powerless-ness not power, in ordinariness not in the spectacular. Didn't you preach on , that once? So what do I do? Should I write, read, visit, wander the streets and bazaars? What? What you do is less important than doing whatever it is with humility and love and with me. I find that fine for a while, but the days can become long and empty. That means you are waiting. Remember once you doubted if I wanted you to come here and you offered to call it off?. I said whether I wanted you to come or not, I would always be with you. I remember. I never looked back after that. Or have I? We'll talk again sometime. I have no intention of guarding you from the truth of these people, of yourself, of our real mission together. Keep in touch. Sure. thanks. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and I! by Patricia Spillane, M.S.C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 The Fourth Vow of the Jesuits John R. Sheets, S.J. Father Sheets, a frequent contributor, is a member of the Department of Theology of Creighton University (Omaha, NE 68178). His topic is one of recurring media, interest, especially in view of the Jesuits' upcoming 33rd General Congregation. The recently published article on the Jesuits' fourth vow by Father John O'Malley, "The Fourth Vow in Its Ignatian Context: A Historical Study,"I has more than academic interest at this particular juncture in the history of the Society of Jesus and its relationship to the Holy See. Beginning with the Jesuits' Thirty-second General Congregation (December l, 1974 to March 7, 1975), there has been a series of unfortunate contretemps between the Society and the pope. Pope Paul VI's final appraisal of the work of that congregation, as conveyed in Cardinal Villot's letter (May 2, 1975), was not enthusiastic: "From an examination of the decrees, it appears that well-known circum-stances prevented the General Congregation from achieving all that His Holiness had expected from this important event . " Nor was the Society's own appraisal of itself that positive. The first item on the agenda of every general congregation according to the statutes is the election of a commission to review the state of the Society. This commission, after reviewing the material at its disposal, issued its report to the assembled delegates. | was one of the delegates. We felt that the report was too negative. We remanded it to the commission. If my memory serves me, we voted to disband the commission itself. However, the tone of the report found its way into a decree called "Jesuits Today." It begins with the words: "What is it to be a Jesuit? It is to know that one is a sinner, yet called to be a companion of Jesus." After the commission's report, and the response of the delegates, Fr. Arrupe took up the topic in an address to the congregation: Two images he 518 The Fourth Vow of the Jesuits / 5"i9 used stand out in my memory. He compared the Society to a ship that has come through a storm, battered, but intact. He also described it as a person who is ill, but not mortally. Another series of events is more recent. In October 1981, to the surprise of e~,eryone, Pope John Paul II, in an unprecedented action, replaced the man chosen by Fr. Arrupe as his personal vicar. In his place, the pope named an Italian Jesuit, Fr. Paolo Dezza, who has had a long history of service to the Society, as his personal delegate to the Society. Predictably the reaction among Jesuits ran the gamut. On the part of many the reactions were negative: feelings of anger, resentment, indignation, confusion, suspicion, hurt. Some, on the other hand, saw it as a special sign of love and concern the Holy Father had for the Society, intended to help us prepare more fruitfully for the upcoming congregation at which a new general will.be elected. The initial bristling reaction was in large part quieted by subsequent events. The week-long meeting of the provincials from all over the world with Fr. Dezza, then their personal conference with the pope brought a great deal of mutual understanding. Finally, Fr. Dezza's letter convoking the next General Congregation to take place in September of 1983 set our faces toward the future. Fr. O'Malley's article on the fourth vow assumes, then, a special impor-tance in the light of the events just mentioned. Its implications for our collec-tive awareness of our relationships toward the Holy See merit serious attention. In what fol~lows, after an analysis of Fr. O~Malley~s article, I shall pose questions expressing my misgiving with his argumentation and his conclusion. Then I shall present Fr. Arrupe's treatment of the fourth vow in some of his recent writings. Needless to say, even in my disagreement with Fr. O'Malley, I respect him as a scholar and personal friend. The Fourth Vow However, even before I begin, I should say something about the Jesuits' fourth vow for the benefit of non-Jesuits who might read this. In establishing his religious order, St. Ignatius took over, of course, many traditional aspects of religious life. In other points he was creative and innovative. He took over, for example, the idea of the final vows that a member would make after a period of probation. But he also introduced an innovation in what arecalled "grades" in the Society~ Those who are admitted to last vows would be admitted on two grades (or levels). The first grade comprises the spiritual (priests) and temporal (lay brothers) coadjutors. The second grade is that of the professed. Besides the regular vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience, the professed took a fourth vow of obedience to the pope. The description of this fourth vow is found in The Formula of the Institute, the document in which Pope Julius IIl in 1550 gave his full approbation to this new congregation. 520 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 The pertinent sentences from the formula are the following: "We are obliged by a special vow to carry out whatever the present and future Roman pontiffs may order in what pertains to the progress of souls and the propaga-tion of the faith; and to go without subterfuge or excuse, as far as in us lies, to whatsoever provinces they may choose to send us . , The motive for the vow is "for the sake of our greater devotion in obedience to the Apostolic See, of greater abnegation of our own wills, and of surer direction from the Holy Spirit." Further declarations are found in the Constitutions for the Society written by St. Ignatius. "The Fourth Vow in Its Ignatian Context: A Historical Study" I come then to Fr. O'Malley's article. He describes in the Introduction the particular question that focuses his study: "The most specific and urgent ques-tion raised in the past few years is how the vow relates to the papal magiste-rium. Does the vow obligate Jesuits to an adherence to that magisterium that is different from that of other Catholics, especially Catholic theologians, and is 'special' to the members of the Society? That question, we must note right off, is asked regarding an obligation imposed by the vow" (p. 1). The article is prompted then by the problem facing Jesuits, particularly teachers, writers, editors. Does the fourth vow oblige them to support papal teaching if they judge there is room for legitimate disagreement? In Part I. St. Ignatius and Doctrine, upon examining the relevant sources, Fr. O'Malley draws the conclusion that St. Ignatius had no interest in doctrine qua doctrine, but only in its pastoral implications. "Is it too much to state that Ignatius had no real interest in doctrine or theology in the conventional sense of those terms today? A strong case can be made for that position" (p. 9). "Ignatius conceived doctrine almost entirely with a view to pastoral effective-ness" (p. 11). "The behavioral and attitudinal components emerge much stronger in this 'horizon' than do more strictly dogmatic issues" (p. 11). Part II. St. Ignatius and Orthodoxy deals with doctrine as the object of faith. Here he takes up St. Ignatius' "Rules for Thinking with the Church." He addresses himself mainly to Rule 13: "What seems to me white, I will believe (creer) black if the hierarchical Church so defines, believing (creyendo) between Christ our Lord, the spouse, and the Church, his bride, there is the same Spirit which governs us and directs us to the salvation of our souls." Rather than se.,eing this rule as applying to doctrinal orthodoxy qua orthodoxy, O'Malley interprets it more as a practical directive: "His 'rule' emerges, therefore, more as an indication of a disposition of soul (sentir) than as a practical instrument for theological discourse. It thus reflects the attitudi-nal and affective intent that pervades Ignatius' writings" (p. 15). "But, again like the rest of us, Ignatius was cautious, conventional, and even undiscrimi-nating in areas where he had no deep inte~rest. One of these areas was academic theology, and even the relationship of that theology to orthodoxy" (p. 16). According to O'Malley, then, Ignatius had little interest in academic theology, The Fourth l,'ow of the Jesuits / 521 or the relationship of theology to dogma, or interest in dogma itself, except as providing some kind of pastoral orientation. O'Malley begins Part III. St. Ignatius and the Church with a statement which seems to moderate what he said before: "If there is one exception to this vagueness on dogma in Ignatius' thinking, it lies in ecclesiology" (p. 21). But he goes on to correct this impression. What was Ignatius' idea of the Church? Not primarily a "school of doc-trine," nor a hierarchical and sacramental reality, but as a locus for ministry. "Ministry, quite ~imply, is what the Church is about. As one conceives minis-try, therefore, so does one conceive Church" (p. 24). "Rather than 'school of doctrine,' therefore, a less ambiguous term of Ignatius' idea of the Church might be 'school of the affections' or 'school of affectivity'" (p. 25). What is the identifying role of the papacy then? Since the Church is to be conceived as the locus of ministry, the pope is conceived as the universal provider for ministry in the Church. "The consensus was., that the pope was the universal pastor with certain prerogatives that made him the ultimate judge in areas where equitable settlement could otherwise not be achieved. He resolved disputes and thereby was the ultimate guarantor of order in the Church. 'Pastor' and 'judge' would be the two best words to describe his function" (p. 28). Was there such a thing as papal magisterium at the time of Ignatius? Not in the sense in which it exists today, according to O'Malley. "The pope is rarely described as 'teacher,' at least as we would be inclined to understand that word today" (p. 29). "They were very far, then, from exercising a teaching office in any regular and positive sense" (p. 29). What was it, then, that led Ignatius to conceive the fourth vow? According to O'Malley, it was mainly his sense of order. This came from his temperament and background, as well as from the contemporary world view that saw hierarchy as the natural order of the universe. "It was inevitable that he would ascribe this same structure to the Church" (p. 31). Was the vow a one-sided promise that the Society be totally at the service of the pope? Not exactly. It was a quidpro quo: "They needed the Holy See as badly as they believed the Holy See needed them . In defending the Holy See. the Jesuits were also defending their own charter to exist" (p. 32). "The relationship between the Jesuits and the pope was mutually advan-tageous" (p. 33). However functional this whole arrangement was, O'Malley concedes that Ignatius did, nevertheless, have a special regard for the Holy See. But one should not read back into his devotion to the Holy See the personalistic fervor that grew up around the person of the Holy Father in the nineteenth century (p. 33). In Part II/. St. Ignatius and the Fourth l,'ow O'Malley argues against the position of two Jesuits, a German and a~ Spaniard, who hold a position contrary to his. He feels they go too far in expanding the scope of the vow. He 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1983 grants that "the symbolic character of a vow, as an expression of a religious ideal, should be expansive, but the proper object of a vow must., be clearly localized" (p. 38). He then states again the specific question he is addressing: "Can the pope bind a Jesuit by virtue of his vow to some 'special' defense, say, of Veterum sapientia, or Populorum progressio, or Humanae vitae, or Laborem exer-cens?" (p. 40). His answer is "No." There is no indication that Ignatius or his companions ever considered this as a likelil~ood or possibility (p. 40). He rules out, then, the possibility of the pope comman~ding some specific teaching by reason of the

Issue 34.3 of the Review for Religious, 1975. ; Review ]or Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building: 539 North Grand Boulevard: St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~ 1975 by Review [or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.75. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $I1.00 for two years; olher countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to repre~nt Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor May 1975 Volume 34 Number 3 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 Noah Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Models of Spiritual Direction David L. Fleming, S.J. David L. Fleming, S.J., is Co-director of the Institute of Religious Formation at the School of Divinity of St. Louis University; 3634 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Religious men and women today often find themselves in deep disagreement about the role of spiritual direction in their lives. The basic problem lies often enough in the inability to distinguish the various ways of understanding spiritual direction which have been developed in the Christian tradition. A. Models of Spiritual Direction lnspi~:ed by Father Avery Dulles' book, Models of the Church, 1 would like to propose a similar approach.to be used to better our understanding of spiritual direction. Dulles carefully makes the case that church has no single comprehensive definition, but as contemporary theology views it, church is in need of many models held simultaneously to gain a more adequate under-standing. In a similar way, I believe that we will come to a far richer apprecia-tion of spiritual direction if we consider various models which haye tried to capture what it is and how it works. The advantage of models in understanding spiritual direction, just as in working with the notion of church, arises out of the necessary obscurities of religious language and the area of religious experience. Spiritual direction deals with an ultimate level of religious mystery of a God and man love-relationship. As a result, our religious language should be looked upon as forming models because it can only approximate the object which it is trying to grasp. Whenever we use a model conception, we break the illusion that we are actually holding the infinite within the finite structures of our language. Moreover, a variety of models opens up the possibility of our not getting fixed upon any particular one and taking it as an idol. At the same time, through a 35'1 352 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 variety of models we will more easily allow for the greater expression of the subjective element which is at the core of,all religious experience. 1 will propose, then, five models of spiritual direction that are found in our Christian heritage. Spiritual direction can come in a group setting such as faith-sharing groups, small group discussions, or review-of-life groups. But here I will propose five models that deal only with personal spiritual direction, that is, one director with one being directed. For personal direction holds a privileged place in our tradition, and group activity does not eliminate its value or its need. 1 do not pretend that five models form an exhaustive list, but I think that it covers a help.ful spectrum of ideas about spiritual direction as it has come to be understood and practiced in the Church. The five models 1 have chosen are: I) direction as institutionalized; 2) direction as interpersonal relationship; 3) direction as charismatic; 4) direction as sacramental; and 5) direction as incarnational. ! will describe briefly spiritual direction as un-derstood in each of these models, touching somewhat on both the strengths of the model and the weaknesses. In trying to identify each clearly, I face the risk of caricaturing, but that is not my intention. All models should be valued and respected. I) Direction as Institutionalized Spiritual direction is institutionalized in the functions of the novice direc-tor, the designated spiritual director of a seminary, the tertian director, and sometimes the superior, especially as understood in the original role of the ab-bot or in the lgnatian idea of a superior. Direction in this model is carried out particularly by instructing in the spiritual and religious life. Spiritual direction is considered in terms of formation; it has a molding role, and so it connotes a certain control over a person's life development. Oftentimes direction in this model exercises a judgmental role because candidates for religious life or for the priesthood must be declared fit or not fit and so accepted or rejected. Spiritual direction in this designated job-form plays an important part in the Church today, just as it has in past centuries. Among the advantages of this model, the clarity of formation is assured, because the necessary instruction about spiritual development is not left to chance. Definite goals and some set means are a part of the direction ex-change, in this model, we find a certain control over the competency of the director since the "job" of direction was assigned usually by superiors who have judged a person's fittingness for such a role. From the letters of St. Paul giving direction to communities and to individuals, through the early models of direction by the desert fathers, we find deep in Christian tradition the bases of this institutional model. But a number of weaknesses are also apparent in this model. Obviously freedom is minimal in setting up the relationship of direction since the one be-ing directed must subject himself to the person whose function it is to fulfill the assigned job as director. Direction seems to be more a matter of imposition of Models of Spiritual Direction life style and spiritual practices than an evoking of personal growth. Direction also appears to be quite limited in time-value, for it covers primarily the for-mational period or, beyond that, the possible crisis period which needs infor-mation or judgment. 2) Direction as Interpersonal Relationship In this model, spiritual direction is defined primarily in terms of a per-sonal relationship--the closer the friendship the better. Direction, then, usually has the aspect of friendly sharing and loving support. While still main-taining the interpersonal basis, this model of direction sometimes makes studied use of psychological techniques, e.g. the transactional analysis methods. Even with the possibility of a certain psychological approach being consciously employed, direction attempts to focus equally upon the interper-sonal relationship of the two friends (the one directing and the one directed) and the growth in a life-response to God. Frequently in this model, the two people involved exchange roles of director with each other so that spiritual direction becomes a mutual involvement. The strengths of this model are evident in the presence of the love, care, and concern which permeate the relationship in all its aspects. As in any friendship, the free gift of self to each other is assured. Self-disclosure with all its dreams, ideals, fears, and disappointments flows very naturally as the friendship continues to deepen. While contemporary attitudes, especially in reaction to the institutional model of direction, favor this kind of approach, historically it also rests on strong evidence from the example of various saints' friendships with each other and from the written correspondence of direction. When we consider the weaknesses, we note that such a model may overstress the humanistic and so not allow for the distance between reason and grace, which never perfectly coincide. Even though in one sense friends can speak up honestly and forthrightly to each other, in another sense their lack of distance may blind each other to the very areas which need attention. Sometimes even the best of friends find that they are frozen in speaking about one or other area because of the delicacy of the love relationship between them. Another difficulty arises when psychological techniques enter into the picture too consciously; we may find a good helping relationship, but one which takes very little notice of the presence of God or the dynamism of grace. 3) Direction as Charismatic Spiritual direction in this model finds a basis in the diakrisis or discretio of St. Paul's grace-gifts within the Body of Chrigt. Because of the stress upon the special character of this person who is truly a "spiritual discerner," spiritual direction itself is seen as a rarity. St. Teresa of Avila is often quoted in support of this viewpoint because she said that only one person in a thousand is capable of direction work. Just to make the point more clearly, St. Francis de Sales is cited for his observation that a director may number only one in ten thousand. 354 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 Following the biblical image of forgiveness as seventy times seven, both saints are not using modern statistics, but rather they are indicating the special gift which is demanded of the director in spiritual direction work. For spiritual direction as understood here is defined more in terms of insight or infused in-tuition from God. Direction has an aura of the marvelous about it. The emphasis seems to focus more on the arcane directions which will be given to the person directed--special divine messages which come from the "reading of a soul" by the inspired director. The strengths of such a view certainly include the great stress made upon the gift-notion of spiritual direction. Direction in this model catches up two people in the atmosphere of the divine, and the process receives its proper emphasis of being more than human technique and human response, it does point up that a "seeing deeper" with the eyes of faith highlights the relationship of direction. There is a certain basis in both the Old and New Testament, and some examples in Christian hagiography to support such a viewpoint. The weaknesses become apparent in the over-significance attributed to the power of God's grace--looking for its presence only in the spectacular or the marvelous. It seems to restrict God's gifts far too much to the extraordinary in the light of human judgment. As a result, spiritual direction itself becomes an extraordinary means in the life of the Church spiritual tradition. But the history of spirituality does not support this conclusion. 4) Direction as Sacramental Spiritual direction has long been seen in terms of a sacramental model because of the confessor-penitent relationship in the sacrament of penance. Because of the sacramental grace of priestly ordination, the priest himself was seen to be a very special instrument of God and to embody the gifts of ministry which we find in the writings of St. Paul. The words which a priest speaks, then, have greater importance than mere human opinion or advice because they are spoken by God's human representative. More particularly, within the sacrament of penance the priest-confessor often has words of advice or counsel. This context becomes the only true setting of spiritual direction because of the certain ex opere operato effect of words spoken within the sacramental encounter. Such counsel within the context of the sacrament takes in, not just the area of sinful tendencies, but all the attitudes and ways of acting which relate to the God-orientation of a person's life. The advantages of this model include the emphasis given to a more balanced sense of the sacrament of penance. Confession itself is not a mechanistic forgiveness; it has a human relationship involved between the priest-representative of the Church and the penitent. There is no doubt that God-inspired words of counsel or advice do take place in the sacramental con-text. Yet as every priest knows experientially, such words cannot be presumed automatically--one flagrant handicapping of God's action being the prepared Models of Spiritual Direction / 355 little "sermon" which each penitent, no matter what he may confess, may receive on a particular Saturday confession period. But two-human beings, so consciously aware of the special presence of God in the sacramental relationship, are both more readily open to the word of God being spoken and being received. The merit of this viewpoint rests upon a long tradition stem-ming from the penitential manuals of the Irish monks of the eighth century to the more contemporary confession manuals dating from the seventeenth cen-tury in which direction brings a fullness to and finds its proper setting in the sacrament of penance. The weaknesses of such a model are found in the restrictions which it puts upon spiritual direction itself. Because of the sacramental setting, a priest is the only qualified spiritual director. Direction, then, flows properly from the ministry of priesthood. If other men and women carry on this work, it is only as "secondary" helpers to the priest who gives over to them this function. This viewpoint seems to take for granted that priesthood ministry inclu.des all the ministries to be found within the Church, but this conception has no sound basis in scripture or tradition. Direction in this model also takes on too magical a sense in that whatever is said within the context of the sacrament becomes true spiritual counsel. 5) Direction as Incarnational This model of direction is one that is probably receiving most attention to-day in the revival of the practice of spiritual direction. The name incarnational given to describe it calls a little too ostentatiously to the Christian connotation of God-becoming-man. Spiritual direction takes it place among the many "fleshly" means which make up God's ordinary way of salvation as un-derstood in Christianity. From Jesus Christ through the Apostles down to our own contemporary Church, we know that God has a design of salvation mediated by our fellowmen. Direction, then, is seen in its ordinariness of one man helping another to clarify and objectify God's will in his life. At the same time, direction is known to be a relationship of two persons caught up in the presence and power of God in this very ordinary encounter, and so both are aware by faith of the privileged grace-time which direction makes available. Elements which are present in the incarnation of the God-man have their analogous components in the direction relationship. Human preparation, faith, and an openness to the movement of God are necessary, and then a recognition that any true fruition of the direction relationship comes from the Spirit. This model of direction is also properly identified as incarnational in that no aspect of a person's life is left apart from the direction context, since man as a whole--physically, psychologically, and spiritually--must grow in his response to God's unique call to him. The advantages of this model are especially seen in terms of the developments of our own day. It presents a conceptual notion of direction that is deeply in tune with the whole process of renewal in the Church. It builds 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 upon the richness of contemporary scriptural and theological studies, par-ticularly in the areas of Christology and Ecclesiology. It maintains a sure emphasis on the humanness of this relationship in direction, while still placing the solidity of growth as a God-empowered gift. Direction in this model is an ordinary means of spiritual growth in the embodied spirituality which is Christianity. This way of understanding direction has good foundation in both scripture and tradition since we find God acting through men in giving advice and warning (e.g. Jeremiah), in making a person aware of how to listen to God (e.g. Samuel and Saul), in clarifying and objectifying a response (e.g. David and Nathan), and in instruction (e.g. Ananias and Paul). The example con-tinues in the many volumes of spiritual writings and letters which we have as a legacy from holy men and women in our Catholic history. The weaknesses of this model arise somewhat from the novelty of its recent re-emphasis. It may too easily be seen as a good human relationship sprinkled over with pious words about God's will. Direction may look so ordinary that the only conclusion to be drawn is that everyone needs it and is capable of profiting from it and just about everyone has the ability to give direction. Then, too, taking in the whole of one's life as the subject-matter seems to leave this model of direction open to a lack of preciseness--no clear understanding of the concerns of direction or the ways of going about it. In a similar way, direction seems to lack clarity about the quality of this spiritual relationship--mixing friendship and distance or professionalism, and or-dinariness and the sense of the holy. B. A Model of Models? In review, all the models have played and do play an important part in our full understanding of spiritual direction--what it is, who does it, to whom it has value, how to go about it, and so on. What 1 hope to have shown is that we can understand spiritual direction in various ways (not just one right way), and that as a result there are various expectations on the part of the director and the one being directed, various methods of directing, and even different ways of valuing its importance for mature spiritual life. To try to reduce the various models of spiritual direction to a single one is to lose sight of the incomprehensible richness of religious experience which forms the content of direction. Neither the strengths nor the weaknesses of the various approaches or models are neatly reducible to a single model. Even after describing each model in its purity, we should be aware that a blending often happens in ~ictual praciice. What we tend to do is to make one model our pivotal model for adapting and understanding other ways of functioning in spiritual direction. But to hold one model as pivotal is quite different from maintaining that there is only one way of understanding and practicing spiritual direction. If I were to opt for a pivotal model for our own day, 1 would choose direc-tion described as incarnational. I believe that it allows for a greater understand-ing of the continuing importance of spiritual direction, especially for the men Models ojSpiritual Direction / 3!i7 and women who have recognized or who are in the process of recognizing the call to specialized ministry roles within the Church. It also more easily allows for the importance of other understandings of direction and other methodologies according to circumstances, though it maintains an adequacy for its own method as a common pattern. Far more work must still be done to gain .an appreciation of the richness which we possess in the Christian practice of spiritual direction. Presently, to be able to hold the different models of direction in tension allows us to draw a little closer to a more adequate truth and a more varied beauty which encompass the mystery of spiritual direction ministry. Creative Response To A Call Within "The Call" Sister Marie Gatza, I.H.M. Sister Marie Gatza, I.H.M., participated in the Workshop of National Vocation Directors which met at Mercy Center in Farmington, Michigan, during the summer of 1974. She is Assistant General of the Sisters Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary; Saint Mary Convent; Monroe, Michigan 48161. The area of "Transfer," is, I am told, fast becoming a matter of concern among Vocation Directors. In the past, there have been rare instances of transfers centered mostly on permissions given to leave an active for a con-templative congregation, a less strict order for a stricter one. However, the topic of "Transfer" is a relatively recent new-comer among religious life con-cepts within Congregations of women in the United States, and so not too much has yet made its way into current literature. Opportunities to learn more about the idea of "Transfer,'" "therefore, come best through situations like the workshop of Vocation Directors at Mercy Center in Farmington where during the Summer of 1974, I had the privilege of contributing the ideas developed in this essay. In trying to think how I could most effectively focus the concentration of workshop members on the topic of"Transfer," 1 found that four key questions readily surfaced: I. Why would a Sister desire to leave her parent Congregation? 2. What factors greatly influence the thinking of Sisters in their search for a Congregation into which they can transfer? 3. What motivation would impel a Congregation to welcome into its membership a Sister who has already finalized her commitment in another Congregati6n? 358 Creative Response to a Call Within "The Call" / 359 4. Given mutuality on the part of the Sister to enter and of the Congrega-tion to receive, what procedural steps are basic to achieving the transfer of a Sister from one Congregation to another? I would like to treat each of these questions, now, in some detail. Then in addition to these four questions, it seems well to attend, even briefly, to the beginnings of evaluation of the concept of "Transfer" as we perceive it operating today within religious Congregations. I Why do Sisters feel convinced that they must leave the Congregation in which they pronounced Perpetual Vows? Because the reasons given by each of the Sisters cited here are so in-dividual, it would not be wise--or even possible--for me to generalize in response to this question. What we can do, however, is to take some mini-glimpses into the lives of a few Sisters who saw "Transfer" as vital to the continuance of their religious commitment. From them we may learn that the motives which led Sisters to request transfer are many and varied. My first example is SISTER P who had been for almost twenty years a member.of a cloistered Congregation, which recently, as a matter of entering into renewal of Religious life, permitted coursework for its Sisters on the cam-puses of nearby Catholic colleges. Sister P was greatly enthusiastic about her opportunity for college education, and discovered that she had a gift for and a great desire to impart knowledge to others in a classroom situation. She found the world of apostolic teaching increasingly fascinating, and at the same time was aware of a persistent questioning within herself as to whether she was really fitted for, or any longer drawn to the contemplative life, despite the years she had already spent within it. She asked for a leave of absence in order to test out her vocation in a Congregation whose main apostolic thrust is education. SISTER N became a candidate in the Congregation of her choice after completing secondary school, and entered, with apparent enthusiasm, into full-scale studies toward becoming a teacher in the Congregation's apostolate of education. Toward the end of nearly twenty years of service in various schools, and maintaining only love and reverence for her own active congregation, she felt the persistent call of the Lord to continue'her religious life in a more con-templative setting. Her transfer to a contemplative community was, therefore, effected. SISTER T's story is a second testimonial to the fact that transfer is a two-way proposition: some come, others go. 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 Sister T, brilliantly endowed intellectually, chose to transfer from the original foundation Motherhouse of her congregation to one of its branches. Her choice for this action seemed to be motivated by the fact that the style and tempo of that community much more surely encompassed her thoughts on renewal in religious life than did that of her own Congregation. When SISTER S first came into contact with the congregation into which she ultimately transferred, she was in her early thirties, and had already been questioning her current situation in religious life. Sister S's diocesan Com-munity consisted of only thirty-four, mostly older members, who in Sister's es-timation had not sufficient theological background to enable them to cope with renewal. At the offset, Sister's motivation for approaching another religious con-gregation was primarily one of a desire to earn her degree. In the course of completing her studies, she came into close contact with the life-style of the faculty, Sisters who were her peers in the Juniorate, and a number of other Sisters belonging to the Congregation which staffed her college. At gradua-tion, Sister realized that the determination to transfer was still much alive within her, and took a most natural next-step: seek transfer permanently to that congregation. SISTER G, educated in elementary an'd secondary schools staffed by Sisters dedicated primarily to education, chose to enter another congregation whose apostolate included social work, for which she felt-a strong inclination. Ironically, at the time she requested entry into religious life, the congregation of her choice was in great need of teachers rather than of social workers, and so, Sister G was educated for the teaching field, a profession in which, however, she learned to find joy and satisfaction. After 19 years in community, Sister G's mother became ill and was in desperate need of her help. Sister appealed to her Provincial, requesting to live and teach with the group of Sisters in the town where her mother's home was located, a move that enabled her to be closer to her mother. Because Sister G's congregation at the time did not approve of inter- Congregational living situations, she was required to take a leave of absence in order to'care for her mother. Sister's two years of leave were painful ones for her in that she felt an absence of support from her Congregation, and grew in-creasingly concerned that her request to care for her mother in this way had displeased her former superiors. A sense of disappointment,-discouragement and alienation resulted. Meanwhile, her conviction of being at home and loved in her temporary living situation became more compelling, and Sister's thoughts focused on the advisability of asking for a transfer. Her present status 'is one of preparing to finalize her commitment to the Lord in her new Congregation. SISTER M is a promising young Ph.D., gifted as well with an unusually Creative Response to a Call Within "The ('all" / 361 strong sense of commitment to religious life, and a very real love and loyalty to her own Congregation. Sister M's reason for seeking transfer is expressed clearly in this sentence taken from one of her letters: "I am reluctant to make this transfer, but have found peace of mind with the decision, since affiliation with the community, ¯ promises greater freedom to respond to the heart of my religious vocation and to the needs of the Church as ! understand them." Interestingly, Sister M is at the present moment making one last effort to work things out with her own Congregation. I do not know whether or not her transfer will materialize. These examples, though few, indicate that reasons for thinking of transfer are much conditioned by a variety of circumstances in which Sisters find themselves. I1 What considerations greatly influence the thinking of Sisters in their search for a specific Congregation into which they would hope to transfer? I suppose that it would be next to impossible to make a comprehensive listing of the factors influencing Sisters in their search for another Congrega-tion in which they can live out the religious cohamitment already begun in the first, their parent Congregation. It is my experience that most Sisters who are interested in a possible transfer express in some way a feeling of affinity with the "new" Congrega-tion, and a supportiveness toward its thrust in Renewal. Where a House of Prayer has developed, for example, many Sisters relate very positively to the significance accorded this growing movement in the Christian life of our day, and are attracted by the centrality of importance accorded to both personal and communal prayer. Again, a basic belief in, and an inner assurance of, competency in relation to the apostolate of the new Congregation seems to enter significantly into a Sister's choice of a Community to which she might like to transfer. Sometimes, style Of living is an important consideration. A person's contact in childhood with the elected Congregation, that is, in elementary or secondary school years, or contact with members of a given Congregation in adult years may influence the Sister'.s decision to opt for one Congregation rather than another, if a transfer is sought. Occasionally, a more insightful approach is brought to the resolution of this question, i.e. "which Congregation?" ! recall, for example, a Sister who had entered religious life as an Aspirant after completing the eighth grade. Twelve years later, having pronounced perpetual vows, Sister asked to be ex-claustrated from her Congregation for the purpose of searching out whether religious life should c~ntinue to be her life-style. Her searching she did under direction, concluding that, yes, religious life was, indeed, what the Lord was :362 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 calling her to live; bt~t not, however, within the Congregation she had entered. After asking herself what it was within the spirit and heritage of her own Congregation that had been most helpful and inspirational to her, really at the heart of her vocation, Sister contacted better than a.dozen Congregations ask-ing for brochures. These she studied for indications of the traits that best em-bodied the spirit of the Congregation in which she had made her vows. In the end, it was the Congregation which she thought did this best that she ap-proached asking for a transfer. But whatever the method used, or whatever the degree of logic or clearness of purpose perceived by the Sister considering transfer, I believe it is fairly safe to say that the seeker is hopeful of finding in the new Congregation cir-cumstances that will be favorable for her living, in some rewarding way, a commitment which means very much to her; circumstances which for some reason or other may have been painfully absent in her life in Community up to this point. III What would be the motivation of a Congregation which welcomes as a new member o fits own a Sister who has already lived under permanent profession within another Congregation? First off, let's clarify one point beyond any confusion. There is probably small encouragement in the Church for supporting transfer at all. The nature of religious commitment, as it has been historically understood and accepted, i.e., "Community", "family", "leader-followers" concepts, argues for permanency within the parent Congregation. We have learned to speak of the "charism" of a Congregation: that unique spirit that characterizes a group of Sisters as a religious Congregation. Although it is hard to put one's fingers on exactly what it is that distinguishes one Congrega-tion from another, no one will deny that there is a certain something, a family bond or spirit which is recognizable to the members, and, to an appreciable ex-tent, able to be detected by outsiders, as well. In some effective way, it seems that the act of transferring from one Congregation to another has to take this matter of Community-charism into consideration. Granting this fact, even slight reflection leads to the conviction that transfer is not an action one opts to pursue lightly when life's more adven-turous movements taper, off into routine. No. To transfer from one's Congregation to another can result in virtually total uprooting, loss of friends, and severance from all that has been familiar for the individual. Should transfer become a more.common pr~actice, we could anticipate con-sequences for the parent Congregation, also. Loss of morale within the ranks, and diminished confidence in the Community outlook and thrust on the part of many of the members can develop exceedingly fast, as we have all learned through our own decrease in numbers sustained in recent years. Creative Response to a Call Within "'The Call" / 363 These considerations being so, a large number of transfers could hardly be thought desirable. One might ask, then, why do leaders of Congregations entertain the idea of transfer at all? Their motivation has to arise from a basic reverence for each individual call to religious life, and a desire to support a fellow Sister in her efforts to re-main faithful to her vocation, even if it means a painful re-planting. Those sup-porting transfer would have to act from a willingness and desire: a. to provide for a Sister some "time" and "space" away from her Congregation in which she can be free to sort out priorities while still being basically observant of the life style of a religious, -or-b. to provide a Sister with an opportunity to embrace the life and mission of a new Congregation for the sake of remaining faithful to her commit-ment to Christ, when it becomes apparent that she can no longer achieve this end within her own Congregation, -or much more rarely, willingness to engraft upon one's own Congregation (as was recently the case within a diocesan group in one of our Eastern States) a whole Com-munity of Sisters when a basic similarity of spirit, or charism prevails in the two Congregations in question. These thoughts indicate in some way, why a Congregation is sometimes willing to accept Sisters asking for a transfer. IV Given a Sister who believes she needs to have a new setting in which to continue living her religious vocation, and given a Congregation willing to think of her as a potential new member of its own, what must be done? The essentials are not too numerous, in my .experience. a. Willingness of the General Superiors of both Congregations to allow and welcome the fact of a transfer, is undoubtedly, of the essence. b. Some good help provided the Sister in discerning whether transfer is, in-deed, the Lord's will for her seems essential too. c. And, of course, proper transactions with Rome are required for the ob-taining of the needed "paper"--the Rescript of Transfer. Of these three, the step which admits of many specifics is the second one; the discernment process. Taking more time than not enough at this point, and being free to meet the individual needs of the Sister is a matter that must 364 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 receive priority at all costs. The space of a year, or more, can very profitably be employed in initially resolving the question of whether it would be mutually advantageous to bring about a transfer, and then of building a readiness for a transfer which is directed to future personal and apostolic fruitfulness for the Sister and for her new Congregation. In my Congregation, which has been open to requests of Sisters to transfer, dealing with Sisters who are thinking about this possibility is a work delegated to the Assistant of the General Superior. It is her responsibility as contact per-son to keep the General Superior and Provincials aware of the Sister's progress at stated times throughout the year. It is also understood that the contact person in some suitable way perform the following duties in re to the Sister seeking to transfer: I. The Contact person enables the Sister to find a situation in which she will live and work among her new Sisters as an actual member of her own Congregation for at least one year before any formal request is made to Rome. During this year a two-way evaluation is on-going: on the part of the Sister who is acquainting herself with the new Com-munity; and on the part of the chosen Community which tries to ask honestly: "Can our Congregation assist this Sister in her living of a healthy religious life and further our Community interests as well by welcoming her into our midst?" 2. The Contact person makes efforts to assist the Sister to become familiar with the members of the elected Community and their life-st'yle, Constitutions, prayer, Community history, and so on. 3. She arranges a realistic and practical system of contacts by means of which she herself, will keep in close contact with the possible transfer- Sister throughout the year. 4. It is her responsibility to establish, as well, during the year, some means of contacting the Sisters residing with Sister-transfer to see how they in-teract with her and she with them. 5. The Contact person may significantly assist her Superior in preparing the portfolio of materials needed to formalize the transfer at Rome, and within both Congregations of Sisters. 6. She enters into facilitating plans for the liturgical celebration marking completion of transfer. 7. She, finally, keeps files current: documents, letters, various com-munications. These suggestions form'at least a working outline of practical steps that will take on significance during the discernment period, especially. Here, then, are some thoughts on each of the four questions presented in the beginning of this essay. I have shown that transfer from one Congregation to another is possible; and while certainly not giving the last word on how it can come about, I have indicated the outline of a procedure for a starter. With Creative l~,esponse to a Call Within "The Call" / 365 all of this, ~owever, there is a yet unasked, but key question that must be sur-faced: I When all the externals and!formalities of the transfer have been com-pleted; when the document~ have been validated; when the ceremonial commemorating the event l~as become a matter of history, it still seems imperative to ask: Did a transfer really occur? Is it possible for a person to sink permanent roots in new soil twice in the space of a single, human lifetime? What sort of on-going~considerations would have to be borne in mind by the "new" community and satisfactorily dealt with by the transferred Sister so that she will not: -- be constantly lone!y? -- be often lacking in ~nderstanding because her past is so foreign in many ways fro~ the past of those with whom she now lives? -- be many times Iook~ing backward to a chapter of her life which is largely unsharable with others and now closed even to herself?, These questions--very real and, sometimes, harsh, lead one, unerringly to the ultimate question: "For h~w many can transfer really be an alternative'?" This presentation really c~uld end with the question 1 have just posed. Ho ever, as a kind of epilog~te, let me ask one further: w'what would happen were it possible for a Sister to live within another Congregation on an extended leave until such time arrived at which she could return in dignity an~ peace and joy to her own Congregation?" Might not this be an unusu~ai service of love that a Congregation could ex-tend not only to an individual ~eligious, but to its Sister-Congregation, as well? it's worth a thought! I Integrity in the Religious Life Sister Mary John Mananzan, O.S.B. Sister Mary John Mananzan is attached to St. Scholastica's College; 2560 Leon Guinto, Sr. St.; P.O. Box 3153; Manila, Philippines. There are virtues which are so all-encompassing that one can explain the other facets of religious life through them. It is not infrequent to explain religious life primarily through one of the vows--(of poverty, of chastity, and obedience) or primarily as a life of love and from there explain all its other features. One such encompassing virtue which, however, is rarely used to view religious life, is integrity. And it is not infrequent that religious people who ex-hibit m~iny external manifestations of virtue can be lacking in integrity. This lack of integrity .can be so subtle that such religious people become a real problem to honest but simple people who deal with the.m. These cannot put their .finger to a particular fault but somehow .they feel something is wrong somewhere. This article will try to analyze situations that exhibit the presence of integrity or the lack of it particularly in the religious life. Integrity is a many-faceted word. Its nuances encompass different but related levels of meaning--from honesty to wholeness of being. But all along this spectrum of meaning runs a single beam that relates them to each other, namely TRUTH. Integrity describes the many aspects of being true. That is why it is a basic virtue. Without it all other seeming virtues are a show and the lack of it makes any manifested virtue suspect. The most basic meaning of the word is "wholeness" or oneness. A religious who is a "whole" is one who has achievi~d a certain harmony in his being, which presupposes a basic self-understanding and self-acceptance. Further-more he has a certain sense of reality and a coherent system of values which form the framework for this authentic self-awareness. Most religious tend to mature intellectually before they do emotionally and morally. There is thus a Integrity in the Religious LiJ~" / certain incongruence and inconsistency in their life. They can give very good lectures, sermons, or write beautiful articles about behaviour, attitudes or vir-tues which can be sadly lacking in their lives. The catching up of one's emotion and one's will with one's insight is a progressive growth in integrity and wholeness. This tendency of the earlier maturation of the intellect may explain the expert way religious.can rationalize actions which deep in their heart they feel guilty about. Laymen can be more honest about their faults than many religious because they don't need to live up to an image. Religious on the other hand have to live up to the imperatives that rule their lives--the imperative to perfection, the imperative to excellence, the imperative to fidelity, the im-perative to unselfishness, the imperative to sacrifice, etc. There is thus a ground for varying degrees of hypocrisy in the religious life ranging from unconscious inconsistency, through semi-conscious in-congruence to alarming schizophrenic tendencies. In this connection, one can look at the crisis of celibacy today as the crisis of integrity. Celibacy can be viewed as the virtue of integrity par excellence. The fact that physical integrity is a sign of virginity is a significant symbol of the main characteristic of celibacy which is personal wholeness. Lived celibacy is not just renunciation but it is at the same time a fulfillment--namely the coming together of heart, mind, body in a singleness of purpose of serving God and being wholly there for others. Any religious who has had a crisis of celibacy must have undergone the literally heart-rending experience of being drawn to two poles--to the demand of the religious life and to the preoccupa-tion with the person with whom one is emotionally involved. Even without indulging in sexual relationships this inner splitting of one's heart threatens one's integrity as a religious. Sooner or later one will reach a critical point which can result in two ways: It can result in a greater wholeness, in a greater integrity due to a conscious re-direction of one's being to one's religious commitment or to a totally new way of life. But it can also lead to disintegration in one who refuses to heal the dichotomy of his heart. At this point all the other forms of lack of integrity will come in--justification, dis-simulation, outright deceit. The more clever the religious the more ingenious the rationalization. The whole of theology can be overhauled to justify the in-fidelity of the human heart, In those who have come to the point of indulging in sexual relationships, the element of passion comes in which blinds them to an almost unbelievable degree. It is not just a matter of moral disintegration that ensues; it can mean a disintegration of pe~sonality. Whole articles can be written about the so-called "third way." Here, only its effect on one's integrity has been discussed. Less dramatic but nevertheless harmful forms of lack of integrity can be found among religious. Where positions of power are held, there certain danger to one's integrity is present. As has already been said, the imperatives of the religious life conditions the failings of religious to be less glaring, less gross, more subtle, more refihed, and consequently more insidious. One can, 361~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 for example develop a way of manipulating facts to serve one's purposes, it is not a matter of downright deception or lie but a way of leaving out facts or choosing them or presenting just an angle of them in order to get what one wants. One cannot put a finger on any downright falsified item but the whole thing is a lie nevertheless. The manipulation of reality can be so subtle that only the most clever can see through the whole scheme and yet ordinary people have an uneasy feeling about it. A more serious form of this lack of integrity is the manipulation of people. It is bad enough to manipulate facts, it is worse to manipulate people. There are clever persons who can play on the weaknesses and strength of other people to their advantage. When one has a project all wiles will be exerted to manipulate people into it. This can lead to sickening forms of "false sweetness," to borrow from the little girl who transformed the 8th commandment into--"Thou shal( not bear false sweetness against thy neighbor." For a positive treatment of integrity, one has to go back to the basic mean-ing given earlier in the article, namely--wholeness. There is in the religious who has achieved a certain amount of integrity, a certain consistency and con-gruence which gives his personality an identifiable core. This gives him a cer-tain reliability and trustworthiness lacking in "shifty" personalities. One. knows where one stands with him. One is aware of encountering someone who remains what he essentially is in differing circumstances. He is real! This solid ¯ reality of his personality is, moreover, transparent, not made opaque by masks, pretensions, dissimulations, or defenses. He is by this very fact vulnerable, because he does not change color like a chameleon or become elusive like an eel. Therefore his weak points are apparent and open to attack. But even this vulnerability is an asset because it is what makes him at home with all men. The link that binds human beings is most often their capacity to be hurt rather than their invulnerability, their common misery rather than the superiority or achievement which set some apart from others, It is a vulnerability that survives being pierced without falling apart. The process of personality integration is an on-going one. A person who has reached a certain degree of integrity continues to make experiences which are to be integrated into his personality if they are to become meaningful to him. One's integrity when one's world is still relatively simple is qualitatively (not only in degree) different from that which one has achieved after going' through major life experiences. There are experiences that are more easily in-tegrated than others because of their familiarity and relative lack of impor-tance. Utterly new experiences, shattering or overwhelming ones are more dif-ficult to integrate. These can cause crisis situations. A person of integrity however, can undergo the most serious crisis, even one caused by his own failings and therefore incurring real guilt without suffering a personality dis-integration. He somehow arises from the ruins battered but whole. He is able to integrate even these negative experiences into his life making him richer and. even more whole because of the confirmation of the links that unite his per-sonality. Integrity in the Religious Life / 369 This is probably the reason why religious who sense an inner integrity in their being tend to take more risks and are less bound by conventions or legalistic observance of rules. They have a sure instinct for what is right, what is true, what is demanded by a situation, what is false or genuine in people they live with. Because of all these, they enjoy an inner freedom which makes them more creative and innovative in the living of their religious commitment. Reprints from the Review "The Confessions of Religious Women" by Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. (25 cents) "Institutional Business Administration and Religious" by John J. Flanagan, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, S.J. (20 cents) "Authority and Religious Life" by J. M. R. Tillard, O.P. (20 cents) "The Death of Atheism" by Rene H. Chabot, M.S. (20 cents) "The Four Moments of Prayer" by John R. Sheets, S.J. (25 cents) "Instruction on the Renewal of Religious Formation" by the Congreg~ition for Religious (35 cents) "Meditative Descriptiori of the Gospel Counsels" (20 cents) "A Method for Eliminating Method in Prayer" by Herbert Francis Smith, S.J. (25 cents) "Religious Life in the Mystery of the Church" by J. M. R. Tiilard, O.P. (30 cents) "Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits" by John R. Sheets, S.J. (30 cents) "Consciousness Examen" by George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. (20 cents) "Retirement or Vigil?" by Benedict Ashley, O.P. (25 cents) "Celibacy and Contemplation" by Denis Dennehy, S.J. (20 cents) "The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat" by Herbert F. Smith, S.J. (20 cents) "The Healing of Memories" by Francis Martin (20 cents) Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand Boulevard St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Religious Government: A Reflection On Relationships Sister Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M. Sister Doris Gottemoeller, R.S.M., whose reflections here have grown out of her experience with the nine provinces of the Sisters of Mercy as well as conversations with members of many other congregations, resides at the Generalate of the Sisters of Mercy; 10000 Kentsdale Drive: P.O.,Box 34446; West Bethesda, Maryland 20034. The renewal of religious life inaugurated by Vatican II required the adaptation of every aspect of that life, both external practices and internal attitudes. One of the most readily observable of these external areas is that of religious government, the network of structures which regulate the interrelationships of members and groups within a community. If the revitalization of communities in the light of Gospel vision and community charism was to occur, the Council saw that it had to be done in the light of the "physical and psychological con-ditions of today's religious," "the needs of the apostolate, the requirements of a given culture, (and) the social and economic conditions everywhere."' More particularly, the Council specified that the way in which communities are governed had to be re-examined in the light of these same standards.~ In order for renewal to truly involve and touch each member of a com-munity, structures had to be altered in order to create channels for each in-dividual voice. Moreover, the spirit of collegiality and subsidiarity which enlivened the Council itself implied the necessity for structures of participative decision-making within other Church groups, such as dioceses, parishes, and religious communities. Before renewal began, role definitions of officials in religious communities (e.g., major superiors, councilors, local superiors) had 'Vatican Council II, Perfectae Caritatis. no. ~. ~lbid. 370 Religious Government." A Reflection on Relationships / 37"1 ¯ provided predictable patterns of decision-making. Furthermore, little revision of rule or policy was required from year to year in an era when lack of change was valued as a sign of strength; constitutions and custom books provided guidelines for every situation, whether of great or trivial importance. With the recognition of the need for on-going adaptation, however, structures had to be altered to provide for on-going participation in the vision-building and direction-setting of a community by every member of that community. Not only was widespread grassroots participation needed for the successful carry-ing out of the special general chapters which inaugurated adaptation, but government plans had to be tailored to allow for continuing involvement in the affairs of the community. At least five years have elapsed since this work began, and some obser-vations can be offered as the fruit of a backwards glance over those years. The remarks which follow can be characterized as insights gleaned from observing the efforts of many communities to re-structure their governments into more responsive and responsible models. They are reflections on the phenomena--not evaluations from a religious or a theological point of view. This work of evaluation is certainly called for, but first we must form a good idea of what is happ.ening before we probe further. The following observations apply to representative bodies, to administrative groups, and to the methods whereby leadership is selected. Representative Bodies The ultimate authority in a religious community has always been vested in its general chapter. Accordingly the efforts to update communities had to begin here in a twofold sense: the chapter itself had to be updated as an instru-ment of leadership and then it, in turn, had the responsibility to inaugurate change in every Other aspect of community life. To this end communities modified their chapters in various ways and, in some cases, supplemented them with other representative groups described variously as assemblies, boards, and congresses. All .of these representative bodies are discussed together here, because certain observations can be made which pertain to all of them. Therefore, in the paragraphs which follow, "chapter" is used to refer to any representative body with responsibility to and for an entire religious in-stitute or a large portion thereof, e.g., a province. I. Most representative bodies have been made truly representative. Great progress has been made here, in the sense that chapters are no longer con-trolled by a preponderance of ex-officio delegates. In most cases the size of the group has been expanded and communities have been diligent in trying to bring together a genuine cross section of the congregation--diversified as to age, apostolic experience, community experience, and geographic location (in instances where a community is widespread). One thing we have learned here, however, is that this effort has its own inherent limitations, in the sense that to specify the configuration of the delegate group too particularly may arbitrarily 372 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 limit the freedom of the community members to have the representatives of their choice. In other words, suitable chapter delegates are not always or necessarily found in equal proportions in each geographic region or age group. 2. A distinction between the chapter and other non-legislative representative groups is not always viable in practice. This observation applies to those com-munities which have created an additional representative group to serve in the interim between chapter sessions in an advisory .capacity to the administrative group (major superior and council). The composition of this new group usually overlaps, to a large extent, the chapter membership, so a certain confusion of roles and responsibilities results. As chapter members, while the chapter is in session, the delegates have dominative authority over the affairs of the in-stitute or province. As assembly members, however, the delegates have only a consultative function. However, a crisis of confidence in the leadership of the administrative group would soon develop if they overrode or ignored the con-sidered judgment of the assembly very often. So, in practice, the assembly becomes, effectively, legislative or policy-making. Also, assembly members would soon lose interest in serving in that capacity if the matters submitted to them were not of real significance and/or if their judgments were not adopted and implemented by the administrative group. Therefore, the tendency is for such assemblies to either develop a quasi-legislative function or else to be con-sistently frustrated by the ineffectiveness of their role. The question must be asked, though, how many significant agenda items are t~ere which should receive the attention of a broad-based chapter group? It would seem that on many issues the administrative group would profit more from consultation with a more specialized committee within the community, such as the representatives of one particular area of apostolic service, than from the broad-based consultation which a chapter can provide. 3. The frequency with which the group meets is more significant than whether or not it is defined as legislative. If the group meets frequently (e.g., as often as bi-monthly, or even quarterly), there is a tendency on the part of the ad-ministrative group to submit a comparatively larger number of items to its consideration and to defer action even on relatively noncontroversial issues un-til after consultation with the chapter or assembly. Thus there is the possibility of paralyzing the activity and initiative of the administrative group, or at least of weakening their effectiveness as a leadership group. Major superiors may hesitate to make any personal creative approach to a problem or issue without submitting it to a chapter 'referendum.' In some cases this is by design: the administrative group is conceived of as the executive arm of the chapter which, in a sense, retains ordinary authority in the community. If this is patterned on the federal government's model of separation of powers, it fails to take account of the fact that the executive and legislative arms of the federal government are (ideally!) separate but equal and, furthermore, are counterbalanced by the judicial arm. If it is patterned on the model of the relationship between a board of trustees and administrators Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / :373 who are responsible to the board, then it should be noted that trustees or-dinarily entrust a large amount of ordinary authority to their administrators. If the administrators abuse that trust, they are replaced by the trustees, but the latter are not involved in the administration per se of the institution. One ques-tion which a community which adopts this "strong chapter/weak ad-ministrator" model must ask itself is to what extent the chapter members are willing to prepare themselves to consider and to involve themselves in a succes-sion of varied problems and issues. Too frequent meetings also may have the unfortunate effect of discourag-ing otherwise qualified community members from serving as delegates. Once this occurs the moral authority of the chapter is subtly undermined because the community senses that somehow serving as a delegate is not a priority respon-sibility and that the composition of the delegate body does not reflect the 'first choice' of the members of the community. 4. Chapter authority is weakened by confusion over its function. Formerly the understanding of what chapter delegates were to do was quite clear and recognized throughout the community. Ordinarily general chapter meetings coincided with the election of the major superior and other officials, and this task was the primary responsibility of the delegates: In addition to this elective function, the delegates knew they had legislative authority. However, in the pre-Vatican Ii era little change was expected or seemingly desired. Therefore the responsibility for this legislative function did not weigh too heavily on the delegates. Beginning with the special general chapters, however, the whole situation changed, and the legislative aspect assumed great prominence. Chapters vir-tually legislated anew on every aspect of religious life, even to the extent of abrogating their former constitutions almost in toto. Since that time com-munities have been using interim constitutions and chapter decrees in place of their former constitutions. The changes reflected in these documents, of course, could not be effected by simply promulgating them: on-going develop-ment had to take place in order to assist community members, delegates and non-delegates alike, to test out the new vis{on in terms of concrete experience and to internalize that vision in their personal value structures. Quite naturally, chapter delegates thus saw that their responsibility did not end when a chapter session adjourned. They had to communicate the chapter vision to everyone and become agents of on-going renewal. Subsequent chapter sessions then became occasions of further corporate reflection on the values embodied in earlier chapter decrees and led to appropriate modifications, refinements, a shared search for ways to implement ideals, and so forth. Thus the legislative function of chapters shaded into a new one, the renewal function. While this evolution of chapter responsibility is understandable and, from some standpoints, desirable, from another viewpoint an unfortunate blurring of distinctions may occur. That is, all of the pronouncements of the same legislative body tend to carry the same weight. As a result, chapter enactments 374 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 may appear to regress to the minutiae of an earlier era, and hence invite dis-regard, or they may all appear to be merely exhortatory without the benefit of stress or emphasis. If the authority of the chapter becomes weakened in the general estimate by too frequent pronouncements, there will be no authoritative voice left in a community to make a really solemn or effective point when it is called for. Perhaps this is an argument for less frequent chapter meetings, preceded by extensive reflection and development of issues within the community. The renewal function, then, would remain primarily the responsibility of the ad-ministrative group and such other community members and committees as they invite to share their responsibility, while the deliberative and legislative function--the ultimate direction setting--would remain the primary emphasis of the chapter itself. Administrative Groups The day-to-day administration of religious communities as well as or-dinary authority between chapter sessions is entrusted to a major superior and councilors and staff persons who collaborate with them. Just as with represen-tative bodies, there have been a variety of new approaches to maximizing the effective service of~.administrative groups. 1. "Teamwork" is seen as an ideal for administrative groups. Scarcely a group could be found today which would not lay claim to functioning as a "'team," but the connotations of this term are sometimes elusive. The use of it probably reflects an effort to escape from a hierarchical arrangement within the administrative group in which distinctions of rank and authority were strictly maintained, or from a rigid system of role descriptions within the council which tended to discourage creativity and initiative among the members and to stifle leadership in all but the major superior. To state what a team is not, however, is not the same as filling the concept with positive mean-ing. The chief characteristic of a team relationship is probably the high degree of communication and interaction among its members. Team organization is not incompatible with differentiation of tasks and authority among the members--after all, there is only one captain of a football team, and everyone plays a different position on it. (There are even offensive players as well as defensive ones, althgugh one would not like to push the analogy this far!) A team does imply a common goal for the members' efforts, however, and a genuinely concerted effort to reach it. There can be a distribution of authority on a team, and there certainly should be a flexibility in approach, a willingness to capitalize on one another's strengths and to compensate for one another's weaknesses, and a relative freedom to revise the "game plan" or to strategize as play progresses. A few communities have organized their administrative groups in such a way that two or more persons have co-equal responsibility. For example, there Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / 37~i may be three co-provincials who have different spheres of responsibility (such as religious formation, apostolic placement, finances, etc.), but seemingly equal accountability for the affairs of the total province. At least one com-munity reported that they found this to be an ineffective and inefficient arrangement because~f the lack of dynamism and leadership which resulted. Another effect of dividing the decisions to be made into approximately equal shares might be that the "co-provincials" tend to make decisions in isolation from one another without reference to the fact that these decisions ought to flow from an integrated vision of what the community is and is about. On the other hand, if "co-provincials" are all equally involved in every decision, the community's expectation will be that all will be equally knowledgeable about every area of responsibility--which would be a wasteful use of time and effort in some cases. These difficulties highlight the importance of studying the decision-making functions of the administrative group in order to provide, insofar as it can be anticipated, for participation which is proportionate to the centrality and im- 'portance of the issue. Formerly, constitutions took care of this by enumerating those matters which required a deliberative vote of the council and those for which only a consultative vote was required. The fact that administrative teams function in a more collegial and less formal style today should not obscure the insight that different matters require varying amounts of delibera-tion and ~consultation. 2. Administrative responsibility is increasingly shared with staff persons. This phenomenon results from the newly-emphasized distinction between charismatic and administrative leadership, as well as from an increasingly specialized and professional approach to traditional areas of administrative responsibility, such as finances, communications and record-keeping, per-sonnel services, and the management of apostolic institutions. Major superiors and their councils are seen primarily as 'in-spirators' and 'enablers' of religious community life--a role which is distinguished from the more management-oriented phase of their responsibility. It is further recognized that such tasks as financial management and personnel services require specialized preparation which is not always had by those whom the community wishes to elect to office. Also, these specialized tasks are often done better when a continuity of responsibility is maintained, and the tenure of such per-sons as the treasurer is not tied into an elected term of office. While in principle such distinctions can be made, there are also certain dif-ficulties which have been evidenced. First of all, the distinction between "charismatic" and "administrative" leadership cannot be exclusively main-tained: a religious leader who did not have a firm and sympathetic under-standing of the realities of the community's existence in every facet of its life would not be able to give credible inspiration to anyone. The leader's respon-sibility is to-cultivate an integrated vision of every aspect of community life in order to be able to challenge the members to further generosity in their 376 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 religious and apostolic life. Therefore the superior and council must collaborate closely with any staff persons in order to keep abreast of what they are learning about the community and also to help determine the priorities of the staff and to set the overall direction of their work. Another difficulty is apparent when the staff has insufficient authority to be effective. Community members must respect the expertise, community dedication, and delegated authority of the staff in order for their collaboration with the administrative group to really benefit all concerned. There are infor-mal as well as formal ways for the administrative group to i'einforce the staff's authority and responsibility in the community's eyes. For example, if a staff person has been designated to respond to a certain type of regularly-recurring request, the councilor should usually refuse to deal with such a request unless it can be shown that the staff person failed to give satisfactory service. Community members themselves sometimes create problems by requiring leaders to hold in confidence information which effects a staff member's role performance. Then the councilor is forced to intervene in the staff person's area of responsibility and to give a seemingly arbitrary direction, thus cir-cumventing the whole process. Councilors must be wary of allowing such situations to occur very often if they wish to have the assistance of a credible and effective staff. The relationship between the administrative group and the staff brings into focus the question of how large each group should be. This is probably a more relevant question than one which is more frequently'heard, "How many full-time persons are r(quired for community leadership?" In a day of declining membership and ever-pressing apostolic demands, releasing talented members for full-time community leadership often seems like a luxury which a com-munity cannot afford. But if more attention is given to a proper balance of elected leaders (full or part-time) and a supportive staff (full or part-time, lay or religious), new possibilities for maximizing leadership potential can be en-visioned. Obviously this answer varies from community to community, depend-ing on such factors as size, geographic expanse, diversity of apostolates, and the willingness and/or ability of council members to perform staff functions. Choice of Leadership No attempt will be made here to discuss varying and even inconsistent ex-pectations of leadership, although how to deal with that reality is a challenging question that applies both to representative bodies and to administrative groups. As noted above, community members expect chapter delegates~to be e.lectors, legislators, and (sometimes) renewal facilitators. They also expect major superiors and their councilors to furnish both charismatic and managerial leadership, in varying proportions. These areas of ambiguity do furnish a backdrop, however, for some remarks about the ways in which leaders have been chosen in recent years, a period in which there has been ceaseless experimentation with differing methods. In fact, most chapters spend Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / 377 more time determining the method by which they will choose their leaders than they do in carrying out the proce.ss itself. In general, four methods can be identified: choice by discernment, election by the chapter, election by the total community, and a nominated-appointed method. 1. Discernment. This method is difficult to define because its interpretation and application vary in different situations. In brief, though, it is a method whereby the electors reach a prayerful consensus about their choice of leadership. It is an application of the spirituality of discernment--the prayer-ful and communal effort to discover and respond to God's will for a group--to the specific matter of selection of leadership. Its proponents usually contrast it to an election which is considered to be mechanical or political or insufficiently attuned to God's will for the community. Since the effectiveness of the method is dependent on khe development of faith community within the group, its usefulness is qualified if the electors represent a very large or wide-spread community, and do not ordinarily see one another except on the occasion of a chapter meeting. In some cases the discernment process has involved not the chapter delegates, but the nominees themselves. In other words, after a process of nomination (in which the entire community has both active and passive voice), those nominees who decide, after personal discernment, that they would be open to being called to community leadership enter into a process of com-munal discernment. Great objection can be raised to this practice, however, since it arbitrarily restricts active voice in the election to only the nominees. Religious constitutions have traditionally specified very exactly who enjoys the right to elect the major superiors, namely, the chapter delegates. To create a situation in which there are no electors except the nominees themselves--some of whom may have received only a single nominating vote while others may have received hundreds--runs contrary to this whole tradition. There must be many qualified electors in a community who are not themselves potential can-didates for the office of major superior. 2. Election by the Chapter. This is the traditional method for selection of leadership, but the manner in which this process is carried out within the chapter admits of many variations. For example, communities have ex-perimented with nominating procedures which involve the entire community and/or with search committees who are charged with developing a list of nominees. Within the chapter itself great efforts are made to allow candidates to discuss their views and their vision of the future direction of the community in an open forum before the election takes place. The election of major superiors, since it is one of the gravest respon-sibilities of a chapter, should be carried out in a prayerful context (as should "all of the deliberations of a chapter). The chapter body should strive together to search out the best-qualified persons to call to leadership in the light of the religious and apostolic goals of the community. Prayers for divine guidance, for freedom from prejudice and error, and for generosity in responding to God's will should all surround the election. If this is the case, then the sup- 371~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 posed contrast between the discernment method and the election method seems to fade in significance. Furthermore, election by the chapter seems to be the only one which readily safeguards the traditional requirements of a valid election, namely, that the votes be free, secret, certain, absolute, and determinate.3 Even a total community election (to be dealt with below) risks compromising these con-ditions. Some would argue that these requirements should no longer apply and that, for example, the community would be better served if ballots were not secret. While at first glance this may seem to represent a growth in the level of mutual trust and evidence a breakthrough in communications within a com-munity, further reflection might lead to an enhanced appreciation of those traditional safeguards which the Church has provided in canon law. Any com-munity which forswears the use of "free, secret, certain, absolute, and deter-minate" ballots should understand full well what it is sacrificing and be con-vinced that a proportionate good will be achieved. 3. Election by the Total Com~munity. It is doubtful whether this method cduid be successfully applied in any but a very small community where all of the members can be present at an election or where the ballots can be collected within a short period of time. Those who advocate a direct popular election probably reflect a lack of confidence in their chapter, a serious problem which should be dealt with in itself since it affects more than the elections. If the chapter is truly representative, however, and the community has confidence in its responsible leadership, then the desire for a community-wide election would seem negligible. 4. Nomination-Appointment. In this method a higher administrative group appoints major superiors from a list of nominees prepared by the constituency. For example, a province (or provincial chapter) may submit a list of nominees to the administrator general and council who then appoint the provincial superiors. Or the provincial administrative group may appoint regional superiors from among nominees presented to them. The alleged advantage of this method is that the higher superior is able to look over the list of nominees and appoint an administrative team with complementary talents, a result which isn't always obtained in a direct election by the appropriate chapter. This method also reflects the authority and responsibility of the higher ad-ministrative group with respect to the smaller units of the community. The method is compromised, however, if the higher superior feels insuf-ficiently informed about the qualifications of the nominees, or is unable to en-dorse any of them with enthusiasm, or does not feel genuinely free to choose from among them. This last condition might apply, for example, if the list of nominees and the total number of votes each received is published to the com-munity at large. Then there is a subtle expectation that the major superior will 3Canon 169. For a discussion of these requirements, see Canon Law for Religious Women by Louis G. Fanfani, O.P., and Kevin D. O'Rourke, O.P. (Dubuque, Iowa: The Priory Press, 1961), pp. 91-93. Religious Government: A Reflection on Relationships / 379 automatically appoint the nominee ~with the highest number of votes, and the appointment becomes only the ratification of a fair accompli. Concluding Remarks Many other aspects of religious government today could be singled out for observation and study. Some of these which come to mind are the utilization of different kinds of balloting in elections (e.g., preferential ballots and weighted ballots), the respective advantages of staggered terms of office and concurrent terms, the participation of ancillary groups such as committees and commissions in the governing process, and the ways in which different units of government discharge their responsibilities (e.g., how they develop their agen-das and how they formulate and communicate policies). Moreover, in addition to the simple observation of phenomena and trends there is a need to evaluate them in the light of assumptions and principles which are acknowledged by the religious community. These espoused beliefs are of many kinds: political, sociological, philosophical, and theological, to name four important areas. This is not the place to develop a list of represen-tative assumptions and, indeed, the renewal process in communities may not have progressed far enough yet for them to be able to articulate these cor-porately. However, any in depth critique of government should deal with questions such as the nature of human persons, the role of law and structure in human life and associations, how government structures can reflect the emphasis of Vatican II on collegiality, subsidiarity,, and shared decision-making, and on the Gospel challenge to be poor, chaste, and obedient in a world which values none of these. Religious government is the point at which a religious community comes together to organize for its collective mission. Those who occupy leadership positions perform a temporary service for the others in order to facilitate that mission. Many relationships should be facilitated by a government structure: relationships of communication, of consultation, of decision-making; relationships between and among community members, community leadership, lay collaborators, Church, and world. The ideal plan of religious government is simple, clear, adapted to contemporary needs, and flexible. The government should be the point of integration of all the concerns of a com-munity, internal and external, and it exists in order to enable the community to better respond to those concerns. There is abundant evidence today that religious communities have in fact grasped the importance of adapting their government structures to these insights and that many of the changes made, and the inevitable trials-and-errors, have brought them closer to that goal. A Note on Religious Poverty J. Robert Hilbert, S.J. Father J. Robert Hilbert is presently assigned to St. Francis Mission; St. Francis, SD 57572 Introduction In many discussions of religious life, it has struck me that, of the three vows, poverty is the most difficult to come to grips with. One is tempted often enough to suspect that the fundamental problem is an unwillingness to take the direct approach of simply being poor. On the other hand, that might be a simplistic move prompted by the desire to escape the discomfort of the in-evitable tension involved in being in the world, but not of the world. There is a fundamental dilemma: poverty is either a good or it is an evil. If it is a good, if it is true that "Happy are you poor," that it really is harder for a rich man than for a poor one to enter the kingdom, then it makes sense for one to himself choose poverty and to counsel others to choose it, but it does not make sense to dedicate one's energies to the elimination of poverty. On the other hand, if poverty is evil, if it hinders man's ability to know, love and serve God, if it is destructive of the human spirit, then certainly it makes sense to work to overcome poverty, but it does not make sense to choose poverty, es-pecially to make it the object of a vow by which one expresses devotion to God. One can say that the Christian concern is not with poverty and wealth as economic or sociological realities, but is rather with poverty of spirit, a spirit which acknowledges man's basic helplessness and dependence on God, which sees man's good as a spiritual good in reference to which material possessions are either indifferent or are subservient as a means. A man who is materially wealthy may have this poverty of spirit in terms of real humility and detach-ment from his possessions, and a man materially poor may have the opposite of this spirit in terms of pride and greed. Yet one does have somehow to deal with the fact that the Gospels present Christ as saying that it is morally im-possible for a rich man to enter the kingdom, that the beatitudes, at least in 380 A Note on Religious Poverty Luke, seem to be talking about the poor and the rich in a sense that includes the material. in considering the sense of Christ's--and the Church's--call to preach the Good News to the poor, one might say of it that it is an assertion to those who are generally looked down on or who experience pain and need and helplessness that they are important to God and are loved by Him. Not that those who experience comfort, and social and mental and physical well-being are not loved, but that they are more apt to know it and so have less need of assurance than do the sufferers. Poverty in this context, one might then say, is not an economic term, but just a generi~ term for those who are needy in any way. Surely Dives is as poor and needy in a spiritual sense as Lazarus? So it is to him perhaps even more than to Lazarus that we are sent to bring the Good News. One hears arguments, too, on the point that Christ did not urge structural social change, much less work for it. Though he responded to physical needs of people on occasion, as when he fed the multitudes or healed the sick, he did not attempt the elimination of poverty or the overthrow of Roman domination any more than he attempted the elimination ~f disease or of earthquakes. Ob-viously he commanded love of neighbor and a practical expression of that love in feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, etc., but he did not preach economic or political structural reform. What manner of reflection, then, led the bishops in their 1971 Synod to say that "action on behalf of justice and participation in the transformation of the world fully appear to us as a constitutive dimension of the preaching of the Gospel, or, in other words, of the Church's mission for the redemption of the human race and its liberation from every oppressive situation?''1 (Is there a possibility that our Lord received his death sentence because his teaching and activity constituted a threat to the established social order?) This note is not an attempt to offer solutions to the difficulties and am-biguities of religious poverty, nor is it intended to touch all the elements in-volved. It is simply aimed at emphasizing a few points that seem to me to be often missed or slighted. Before taking up those, however, it might be worth recalling a few presuppositions on which these reflections are based. The Church's Poverty and Religious Poverty One is that a religious community is a community within the Church. Its way of life, its values and ideals are those of the Church. It gives particular ex-pression to certain values in a way different from the way in which other groups in the Church do, but these values are those of the whole Christian peo-ple. Religious life is to give evidence of, to point to, to make sharply visible certain aspects of what it is to be a Christian. There must, then, be continuity in the sense of poverty of religious life and the sense in which the Church speaks of its poverty. This sense, of course, comes to the Church through the ~Synod of Bishops, Justice in the World (U.S.C.C., Washington, D.C., 1972.) p. 34. 382 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 example and teaching of Christ. "Just as Christ carried out the work of redemption in poverty and under oppression, so the Church is called to follow the same path in communicating to men the fruits of salvation. Christ Jesus, 'though He was by nature God . . . emptied himself, taking the nature of a slave' (Phil 2:6), and 'being rich, he became poor' (2 Cor 8:9) for our sakes. Thus, although the Church needs human resources to carry out her mission, she is not set up to seek earthly glory, but to proclaim humility and self-sacrifice, even by her own example.''~ The Tradition of Religious Poverty Another assumption is that a religious community is both an inheritor of tradition and an interpreter of that tradition in terms of the present day. There is a long history of the practice of poverty in religious life. In the course of generations, we have developed a complex of values in the matter of poverty, including the following: detachment from material wealth; sparingness and simplicity in use of material things; possession of things in common; a life of labor; dependence on providence; hospitality; service of the poor. To some extent there is an'absoluteness in these values, aspects of them which are true in general for all men and all times. Even were there a time when the world had no drastic contrast between the rich and powerful and the poor and helpless, men would need reminders that the good life is not found in having things. "You have made all these things, made them very good indeed, yet You are my good, not they," It will always be true, as non-Christian cultures, too, realize, that man comes before God in nakedness and emp-tiness- not with reliance on possessions, nor on education, skills, achievements, nor even with security in good works as giving him in any way a claim on God; he comes to God with awareness of his own nothingness, and of God's infinite and personal love. Response to Particular Periods or Societies Beyond such timeless elements, howe, ver, values involved in religious poverty and modes of expression of that poverty are related to the contem-porary social situation of any given period. Modes of expression of religious poverty differ among various orders and in various times and places in part because religious poverty is an affirmation of values endangered by a particular period or society. !t is a prophetic witness directed to the needs of the time and place. Benedict, Francis and Ignatius had initially very different modes of poverty in their orders, not because they had different views of the fundamental and timeless values expressed in poverty, but because they were responding to the needs of the Church in different histo.rical periods. In considering renewal of religious poverty for our times and situation, ~Vatican 1 I, Dogmatic Constitution on the Church,//8. (Documents of Vatican 11. America Press, 1966, p. 23.) A Note on Religious Poverty / 383 then, it is not enough to accept the externals of the expression of poverty ac-cording to the traditions of a religious order; one must consider the values and attitudes involved, both the religious values affirmed and the worldly values opposed. Let us put this another way. Christ'.s life of poverty, it has been said, was "characterized by a redemptive use of things.''3 This is not simply an accept-ance of an ideal order of creation; it is also a recognition that there is sin-fulness embodied in the present concrete order, a non-redemptive use of things, which must be counteracted. The non-redemptive use, the sinful use, of God's creation is evil not only because it is an undue or distorted valuing of things (St. Paul speaks of "greed, which is idolatry"), but because it leads men to degrade, exploit and treat unjustly their fellow men. Poverty Is Apostolic Another presupposition is that the poverty of a religious order is not an end in itself. It is ordained to man's redemption, to the development of the Kingdom of God. Hence, there will be variation in the poverty of different g~roups according to the nature of their apostolate. Yet this subordination must not obscure the fact that poverty is really meant and is deliberately chosen. Religious poverty is not a mode of life that is in total equilibrium; it is not a way of life characterized by use of God's creation in what might be the way one would hold up as the ideal for all men in the ultimately just world order. Religious poverty is a deliberate move to the side of the poor and oppressed, an affirmation of intended identification with them. It is this because in Christ God has identified himself with them. Furthermore, religious poverty is a mode of apostolate. A religious may recognize that there are many ways of working for the attainment of man's red, emption. In the spirit of the Kingdom and Two Standards of the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius, however, he chooses to work from a position of poverty and humiliations. This is not a completely rational approach to the improve-ment of the human situation. There is a mystery in God's mode of salvation in Christ--through poverty, humiliation, injustice, eventually an unjust death on the cross. Unless there is an acceptance in faith of that mystery as still operative, there can be no full acceptance of religious poverty. l have stated four points that seem to me to enter in to reflection on religious poverty: that religious poverty is to give clear evidence to the Church's sense of poverty; that it involves a sense of the tradition of poverty throughout history; that there must be a re-statement of the spirit and tradi-tion of religious poverty in light of the sociological and cultural situation of the present day; that religious poverty is apostolic, "as Christ carried out the work of redemption in poverty and under .oppression." As I consider these points and my experience of religious life, it seems to aJohn R. Sheets, S.J., Toward a Theology of the Religious Life. (Studies in the Spirituality of Jesuits, II1,8; Nov., 1971, p. 173.) 384. / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 me that three areas which demand much and serious reflection in efforts at renewal are: that religious poverty must be in fundamental, radical opposition to the spirit of our affluent society, and must, then, require fundamental, radical personal conversion on the part of a religious; that contemporary con-sciousness of social injustice is integral and essential to the meaning of religious poverty and its expression in our day; that being concerned for the poor and being poor are not quite the same thing. Religious Poverty in an Affluent Society In referring to our affluent culture, what I am trying to suggest is that simply having things, being relatively wealthy in comparison to the major por-tion of the world's population is not an accidental adjunct to what we are as a people. Our material affluence is rooted in and has sprung from some of the most basic attitudes and values of our culture. In turn, our affluence reinforces and influences the development of these attitudes and values. Surrendering the right to personal ownership, professing a dependence on a superior or a com-munity for material things, even choosing a standard of economic life which eliminates certain superfluities and luxuries, does not signify or produce a very deep-rooted or wide-ranging change in the attitudes and values we have ab-sorbed since birth. It seems to me that this is the fundamental reason why it is so hard for us to come to any clear and satisfactory consensus about the meaning of religious--or Christian--poverty. So long as we consider the matter on the basis of the attitudes and values which are our cultural inheritance, there is no way we can conclude that real poverty is something which can be chosen and prized, for that culture is in diametric opposition to a spirit of poverty. In a brief article such as this, there is not scope for a full discussion of the American value system. What we are as a people, though, can be learned by reflection on our history. It was not an aberration of a few twisted individtials that brought about the centuries of enslavement of millions of Africans and In-dians. The greed, violence, lust for power, unquestioning assumption of superiority that underlay the centuries of European exploration, conquest, dominance and exploitation were not just occasional faults of isolated in-dividuals. They were part of the fundamental value system of an entire culture. Though we now repudiate some of the cruder manifestations, the same values and spirit are still endemic in Western culture, and have been incar~ nated in the social structures that our culture has established. It is not acci-dent, but basic cultural drive that has developed in this, the wealthiest country in the world, an economic and political structure which "virtually guarantees poverty for millions of Americans.''4 The greed, selfishness and exploitation of the colonial period have borne fruit, through the period of the industrial revolution and the growth of the multi-national corporations, in a world 4Poverty Amid Plenty, the report of the President's commission on income maintenance programs, 1969, p. 23. A Note on Religious Poverty / 385 economy which has created an enormous and ever increasing division between rich and poor, which threatens the human race because of the destruction of the earth's environment and resources. So the world is not one. Its peoples are more divided now, and also more conscious of their divisions, than they have ever been. They are divided between those who are satiated and those who are hungry. They a~e divided between those with power and those without power. They are divided between those who dominate and those who are dominated; between those who exploit and those who are exploited. And it is the minority which is well fed, and the minority which has secured control over the world's wealth and over their fellow men. Further, in general that minority is distinguished by the colour of their skins and by their race. And the nations in which most of that minority of the world's people live have a further distinguishing characteristic--their adoption of the Christian religion.5 What is significant is not only the fact of such division, but also our general ability to ignore that fact. How is it, after 80 years of modern social teaching and two thousand years of the Gospel of love, that the Church has to admit her inability to make more impact upon the con-science of her people?. It was stressed again and again that the faithful, particularly the more wealthy and comfortable among them, simply do not see structural social in-justice as a sin, simply feel no personal responsibility for it and simply feel no obligation to do anything about it. Sunday observance, the Church's rules on sex and marriage, tend to enter the Catholic consciousness profoundly as sin. To live like Dives with Lazarus at the gate is not even perceived as sinful.6 A concern for religious poverty which attends only to the externals of per-sonal or community economy is inadequate. If we continue to fit comfortably within the systematized greed, selfishness, cruelty, love of power of our society, we have no poverty of spirit. If we are ourselves to become Christian and to bring the Christian word to our society, we must attain an empathy with the poor and powerless in our own country and in the world. We have to feel the poverty of the migrants who harvest the food that is so plentiful on our tables. We have to know our society as it is experienced by an unemployed In-dian who sees his children growing up undernourished, falsely educated, and culturally destroyed in a country where his grandfathers lived in freedom and plenty. But once again, we have to become aware of and critical of our own ac-culturation. We must ourselves engage in that continuing education described by the bishops, an education which comes "through action, participation and vital contact with the reality of injustice." We must awaken in ourselves "a critical sense, which will lead us to reflect on the society in which we live and its values," and be "ready to renounce these values when they cease to promote justice for all men.''7 This examination will include not only our 5Julius Nyerere, Speech to the Maryknoll Sisters (Maryknoll Overseas Extension Service, Maryknoll, N.Y., p. 6). 6From an account of the debate at the 1971 Bishops' Synod, quoted in Henriot, "The Concept of Social Sin," Sourcebook on Poverty, Development and Justice, Campaign for Human Develop-ment (U.S.C.C., Wash., D.C., 1973, p. 67). 7Synod, op. cit., p. 46. 386 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 private lives, but the values incorporated in the institutions in which we work. It is necessary, for instance, to examine the basis of our judgment of produc-tivity and efficiency, our decisions about choice of means. Do we give due ac-count to the idea that we are called to follow the path of carrying out the work of redemption "in poverty and under oppression?" Abject poverty, we are told over and over again, is destructive of the human spirit, is an evil which must be eradicated, cannot be the object of a choice, certainly not of a vow, because it is an evil. True enough. But is it possible that our sense of how evil it is is to some extent a reflection of how good we think wealth is? Does our reflection on Christ's statement that it is a moral impossibility for a rich man to enter the kingdom suggest to us that perhaps wealth, too, is destructive of the human spirit, is an evil which must be eradicated? There are many ways in which the full acceptance and real valuing of religious poverty demand not simply a spirit of occasional.self-denial, but a very radical transformation of the basic values inculcated in us from birth within our society, values involved in our attitudes towards material creation, toward the meaning of human life, toward our country's position in world relationships. Addressing Social Injustice Earlier in this article 1 said that contemporary consciousness of social in-justice seems integral to our understanding of religious poverty. To some ex-tent l have introduced this idea in discussing the matter of a critical examina-tion of our values, but let me focus more directly on this point. Poverty has always been an essential of religious life--but its motivation and expression have been modified by the needs of the times. The sinful ab-surdity of the economic situation of our times is not in the fact that there are people who are poor, but in the division described by Nyerere, in the fact that the enormous and unprecedented technological, economic and political power of our times is ordered not to alleviating the plight of the poor majority of men, but to the perpetuation and increase of the imbalance of that division. The bishops recognize this situation as a claim on the Church's expression of poverty. Although in general it is difficult to draw a line between what is needed for right use and what is demanded by prophetic witness, we must certainly keep firmly to this principle: our faith demands of us a certain sparingness in use, and the Church is obliged to ad-minister its own goods in such a way that the (~ospel is proclaimed to the poor . In societies enjoying a higher level of consumer spending, it must be asked whether our life style exemplifies that sparingness with regard to consumption which we preach to others as necessary in order that so many millions of hungry people throughout the world be fed.8 8Ibid., p. 45. A Note on Religious Poverty / 387 What is that sparingness? In general, at least, "those who are already rich are bound to accept a less material ~way of life, with less waste, in order to avoid the destruction of the heritage which they are obliged by absolute justice to share with all other members of the human race.''9 Many cautions are given in discussions of religious poverty to the effect that it should not be confused with economic poverty, that religious poverty in its expression is relative to the milieu in which the community lives and works, that religious poverty is distinct from the claims of justice. Such distinctions, however, can be overdrawn to the extent that religious poverty is moved to an abstraction that has little in common with the poverty of Christ. His Kenosis was accomplished in concrete terms of real identification with the poor and ac-tual confrontation with the powerful of his times. When he said, "Happy are you who are poor," and "Alas for you who are rich," one has the impression that he was not abstracting from the economic situation. More fundamentally, Fr. Arrupe's statement deserves serious con-sideration: But God is not only the God of the poor. He is, in a real sense, God who is poor. For the mystery of the Incarnation has established a special relationship between God and pover-ty whose meaning goes much deeper than mere compassion . God is allpowerful. God has riches beyond our ability to estimate. But he is also a God of justice, who demands that justice be done. l f, then, God, allpowerful and infinitely rich, identifies Himself with the poor, it must be because the cause of the poor is somehow identified with the cause of justice?° Sparingness, for example, is fundamental to religious poverty in part as an example to all men that possessions and use of luxuries are not all that essen-tial to the quality of human life--may, in fact, hinder a man in his real development. Today there is clearly added to this motivation in the Church's consciousness the demand of some sparingness in order that justice be served. It is clear, too, that this demand goes beyond the matter of purely personal or domestic religious life to take in as well the means used in our apostolic works. If there is a demand that our society's use of energy, for example, be reduced, that reduction is called for in all aspects of our life and work. It seems to me, in short, that a level of example and witness in this regard is integral to a realistic understanding of the contemporary value of religious poverty--a poverty that is true to the Church's sense of her call to poverty, a poverty characterized by a redemptive use of things, a use redemptive of the actual sinful use of things in our day. Identification with the Sociologically Poor The Church, following the example of Christ, recognizes a particular call to showing concern for the poor and the oppressed. This call is felt with special 91bid., p. 51. 1°Pedro Arrupe, S.J., Witnessing to Justice (Pontifical Commission, Justice and Peace, Vatican, 1972), p. 38. 3~11~ / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 emphasis by religious, as the history of their efforts on behalf of the poor attests. The kind of assistance that is called for will vary in different periods and with different orders. In our times, there is particularly the note of concern that the structures which perpetuate and increase the division between rich and poor be changed. Even within the wealthiest country in the world, change of structures is necessary for the alleviation of widespread poverty: The paradox of poverty in the midst of plenty causes many to ask why some people re-main poor when so many of their fellow Americans have successfully joined the ranks of the affluent . It is often argued that the I~oor are to blame for their own circumstances and should be expected to lift themselves from poverty. This commission has concluded that these assertions are incorrect. Our economic and social structures virtually guarantee poverty for millions of Americans.1~ The call to concern for the poor and for working for structural changes that will ensure justice for the poor is a call to all Christians. For us who profess religious poverty, it is not only a call to have such concern and to work for such change, but to share Christ's identification with the poor. Discer.n-ment is necessary, harmfully simplistic approaches should be avoided--yet our life and mode of work should be such that our being accounted among the poor is clear. Whatever may be said of the relative norm of poverty with reference to the milieu in which a community lives and works, it should be clear that they are poor in that relative way. If it is a question for all Christians "whether belong-ing to the Church places people on a rich island within an ambient of pover-ty,''~ 2 it is preeminently a question for religious. We should share what we have, and it seems good, sometimes, that we do have in order to share. But we should be present to the poor as willing to share what little we have, not as well-to-do philanthropists sharing their excess. There is a lesson for us, though we might not wish to carry it to that extreme, in the example of St. Francis's unwillingness even to accept alms to be dis-tributed to the poor. There is, moreover, the very practical fact that it is most unlikely that we will appreciate the meaning of being truly poor, or be able really to see our society and its structures from the standpoint of the poor, if we ourselves do not in some real way share their experience. It is evident enough in our rec-tories and convents and schools that most of us share pretty completely the values and attitudes and experience and even prejudices of the affluent, not of the poor. It seems pertinent at this point to introduce a quotation from St. Ignatius Loyola which perhaps returns to the statement of my opening paragraph: ~tPoverty Amid Plenty, loc. cir. 12Synod, op. cit., p. 45. A Note on Religious Poverty Let me just say this; whoever loves poverty should be glad to be poor; glad to go hungry, to be badly clothed, to lie on a hard bed. For if someone loves poverty but avoids penury, following poverty only from afar, is that not to be comfortably poor? Surely that is to love the reputation rather than the reality of poverty; to love poverty in word but not in deed.t3 As 1 conclude this article, my sense of futility returns. If some of the honestly poor people of my acquaintance--in the slums of Milwaukee, in Belize, on the Sioux reservation where I now live--were ever to run into the sort of discussion I have written here, 1 suspect they would not find it so much the word of Christ as the confusion of one who is far from Him. 1 think it might cause some amusement, if not amazement, that a man with so much education and so many years of meditation on the Gospel can make such a complicated business out of the relatively simple question of how he can be poor. But this is written by one who lives in material security, even affluence, for others who live similarly, and so must inevitably reflect the confusion of those bound in that mesh. May that which is impossible to men, that which our own mental gyrations and personal anguish can never bring about, be accomplished by Him who can save; may He relieve us of the burden and constriction of our wealth, pull us through the eye of the needle, and introduce us to the simplicity and freedom of His Kingdom. t3Monumenta Ignatiana, Epp. l, 577. Mortification Brother Thomas E. Ruhf, C.P. Bro. Thomas E. Ruhf is.presently engaged in studies for the priesthood at St. John's University, where he was awarded a Master's Degree in Theology last year. He is a member of the Passionist Monastery; 178th St. and Wexford Terrace; Jamaica, NY 11432. The word "mortification" is seldom if ever heard these days, and, when it is, it strikes a strange and sour note because of its seeming lack of harmony with contemporary man's view of himself and his world. In a society ruled by the lords of consumerism, progressivism and utopianism, the concept of mor-tification is most assuredly an outcast. Mortification is viewed as no less than a perversion of life, since life's goal is seen to be the pursuit of happiness and self-fulfillment, which is attained in extracting from life all its treasures of pleasure and burying as much as possible its pains and sorrows. The mul-tiplication of wonders in science and technology is heralding the dawn of a new age when there will be plenty of pleasures and possessions for all, when disease and pains will be laid to rest forever, and when even death may fall victim to the march of man. To speak of death, suffering or any human limitation is to talk of problems to be solved and not perennial conditions to be fa~ed. Such a society has no use for mortification precisely because it is a radical, concrete and complete affirmation of these realities, precisely because it af-firms them as enduring conditions to be faced and embraced for their creative potentials. The problem with mortification is a problem with suffering and death, with their proper place in a full and authentic human existence. In spite of society's claims of present and future scientific and technological conquests, death, suffering and human limitations remain ever so real. Daily the media parades before our eyes the ~pectr'e.of human suf-fering- innocent children with bellies pregnant with starvation, the disfigured and bloodied corpses of victims of senseless terrorism and calculated wars, the 390 . Mortification / 39'1 sad streams of people with lives and homes ruined by the fury of natural dis-asters. At the same time the tales of polluted water and air, of shortages of oil and energy, of inflation and recession are bursting the bubble of the great American myth of the cornucopia of unending resources and limitless produc-tion. Yet modern society continues its masquerade of denial. This denial of the hard and enduring facts of death, suffering and human limitation is not without its costs, for modern man has fallen victim to a certain sense of cultural schizophrenia. It seems that the greater the claims made for man's omniscence and omnipotence, for his control over nature and life in the face of his obvious lack of it, the greater becomes his sense of personal impotence, of being victimized and fated by the forces of nature and life. As society as a whole becomes more integrated, mechanized and systematized, he as an in-dividual becomes more isolated, alienated and categorized. Sodiety's attempt to do away with all external forms of suffering and pain only serves to intensify and foster his internal suffering and pain. A Contemporary Understanding of the Problem of Suffering and Death If any concept of mortification is to be valid today, it must seek its basis in the new heightened awareness of pain and suffering not only as external world realities but also as internal personal realities. It must find its roots in a con-temporary understanding of suffering and death. Perhaps the most meaningful concept of suffering and death for today's world is the existentialist view. In such a view man is seen primarily as a being-unto- death. His very suffering and limitation become movements in con-sciousness toward the final limit of death, which brings man face to face with the fundamental questionableness of his own being without offering him any answer to it. This ultimate questionableness of life is faced by each man alone. Death represents the ultimate loneliness. All suffering, in being mine alone to bear, is essentially an experience of loneliness foreshadowing the ultimate Ioneliriess of death. Thus suffering and death give a character of existential loneliness to all life, a realization that no other finite reality can solve the basic questionableness involved in the finitude of my existence, that no finite reality can satisfy my radical desire to transcend this ultimate limit. This spectre of existential loneliness casts a long shadow of fear and anx-iety over a man's life. He can deal with this spectre in a number of ways. One way, which is most characteristic of contemporary man, is to avoid the whole question as long as possible. There is a retreat from the limits of his loneliness and death and a search for a sense of security in an immersion into th6 daily activities of pleasure and production. Indeed in America death is a taboo. The subject must never be raised, not even with a dying person. Death is always an unfortunate accident that happens to someone else. Likewise acknowledgement of a deep sense of loneliness seems awkward and inappropriate in a society.dedicated to the pursuit of pleasure and hap- 399 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 piness. Loneliness, a basic reality of life, like death, is viewed as a sickness which alienates people from each other and society and hence is an unfor-tunate development in life that must be avoided and spurned. But in fact "it is not loneliness which separates persons from others, but the terror of loneliness and the constant effort to escape it.''t If a man cannot face and affirm his ex-perience of existential loneliness as a condition of existence, he will not only be alienated from others but even from his very self. As Dr. Elisabeth K~ibler- Ross has observed in her study of terminally ill persons, nothing frustrates and alienates them more than their families' and friends' refusal to talk of suffer-ing and death. As a result Dr. K~ibler-Ross makes a plea in her book, On Death and Dying, for more people to face up to the reality of death for the sake of helping the dying and for their own sake in living real and full lives.2 Modes of Acceptance of Suffering and Death Assuredly the acceptance of suffering and death is necessary for a truly authentic and full life. However there are significantly different modes of acceptance that man has and can choose as his way of responding to these realities. Karl Rahner suggests that there are basically three postures of ac-cepting death? First of all, some see death as the stark and complete termination of all that they have found pleasureable in life. Death is a door op~ning out into dark oblivion, into the ultimate futility of all life and as such is a cause for frustra-tion and despair. Suffering is a grim foreshadowing and reminder of this ul-timate emptiness. Others embrace death with the full consciousness of their being, realizing that they have no answer to the enigma of its meaning, but yet remaining open to an answer to this ultimate questionableness of life from a source outside of themselves and time. It is a response of stoic resignation to fatedness and all suffering, leaving open the possibility that death could be a door to ultimate fulfillment as well as to ultimate annihilation. The third response goes beyond resignation, radically affirming death and all "little deaths" in suffering as doors to a life of ultimate fulfillment, as the necessary frontiers to be crossed on the way to the radical transformation of man's ex-istential situation by a gift from God. This response of acceptance is permeated by a sense of faith and hope in seeing in the very finitude of life its radical nature as free gift from the One v~ho is Infinite. This last response is of course the Christian response. We acknowledge in faith the efficacy of Christ's death and resurrection for the transformation of our own death into eternal life in God. Dying to ourselves becomes the only way to the fullness of life. Existential loneliness in suffering and death is the ~Clark E. Moustakas, Loneliness (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice-Hall Inc., 1961), p. 103. 2Elisabeth Kiibler-Ross, M.D., On Death and Dying (New York, N.Y.: Macmillian Co., 1969). p. 13. 3Karl Rahner, S.I., "The Passion and Asceticism," Theological Investigations (Baltimore, Md.: Helicon Press, 1967), v. 3, p. 92. Mortification / 393 very vehicle to authentic life since it is our only entrance into a participation in the Paschal Mystery which is the answer to the questionableness of all life. We believe that as an existential, ontological result of Christ's saving action all life can now be said to exist in a state of mortification, in a state of having already died with Christ that it may now live with him in a sharing in his resurrection. In this sense every life by way of baptism in Christ enters into a state of "ab-solute mortification."' Present Difficulty with Mortification No Christian has problems with accepting mortification as a state of life entered into in baptism, though we perhaps never consciously refer to life in Christ as mortified existence. The problem comes in the choosing of specific acts of mortification above and beyond the suffering and death inherent in the exigencies of life itself. These self-chosen acts of mortification, which have been termed "relative mortification," have for some time played a role in the tradition of Christian asceticism and been a prominent feature of religious life. But today it is a common assumption that relative mortification has no. place in authentic Christian living. In fact it has been condemned as a distortion and perversion of Christianity, and any mention of the subject evokes looks and words of scorn and disbelief. How can it be that such a long tradition of relative mortification has so suddenly been pushed aside and left to die?.llS it simply true that there is no value in practising it at all? To answer this question we must first identify and face the reasons for this rejection. There seem to be two fundamental reasons for this. First it stems from a reaction against the excessive and exclusively corporal nature of past practices of mortification. Secondly the rejection arises out of an affirmation that there is enough mortification inherent in trying to live a good Christian life of love. Certainly whenever the word "mortification" is spoken in Christian circles it immediately calls to mind a grim picture of severe corporal austerities aimed at prevention of or reparation for sin. Such practices of "attacking" the body do violence to our contemporary awareness of the sacrality of all material ex-istence. We react strongly against the Platonic dualistic view of life implicit in these practices which views the soul as imprisoned in the body and yearning for release from its evil propensities. Furthermore instead of releasing a person from his self-centeredness, these practices often enough focused concern on the self by creating an obsessive preoccupation with avoiding pleasure and con-solation in a fight to win salvation. The Christian call to turn outward from the self to Christ and his ~people in a spirit of suffering love is overshadowed by the quest for personal perfection in the conquest of temptation. Hence such prac-tices appear to have little connection with a valid Christian life. 'William J. Rewak, S.J., "Mortification," Review for Religious, May 1965, p. 374. 394 / Review for Religious, Volume 34, 1975/3 Inadequacy of Traditional Justifications for Mortification It certainly must be admitted that many past ascetical practices are quite justifiable on "worldly" terms alone apart from any connection with a Chris-tian view of life. Karl Rahner distinguishes three types of ascetical practices which developed independently of Christianity.5 The first type he terms moral asceticism, which uses corporal austerities as a means of self-discipline for the sake of attaining a balance of the various forces in man and thus enabling him to lead a life in harmony with the laws of his nature. Such asceticism seeks to conquer the "animality" in man so that his spirit may rule. This description would fit many of our past practices of mortification. Likewise "mystical asceticism," in using bodily self-denials as a preparation for an experience of religious enthusiasm and mystical insight, has nothing peculiarly Christian about it. The same can be said for "ritual asceticism" which also uses bodily austerities as a way to escape the profane sphere of life for the sake of contact with the transcendent. All these justifications for mortification deny the significance of Christ's Incarna;tion, deny the truth of the Word who is the flesh and blood revelation of God, who reveals the spiritual by means of th~ material. There is no prere-quisite of escape from material reality in order to find God. Contemporary Christianity has rejected past practices of mortification quite justifiably on the grounds that the reasons given for employing them had little to do with solid Christian belief. Indeed the decrees of dispensation of the Friday abstinence and of most of the Lenten fast and abstinence were viewed by many as a sort of"Emancipa-tion Proclamation" freeing Catholics from the slavery of past mortificational practices. In the ensuing exhiliration of freedom not only were the past prac-tices cast off but also the whole concept of relative mortification itself. In the name of freedom for a full human life, many could now repeat the words of James Carroll, "I have given up nothing but giving up for several Lents. I have denied myself self-denial.''6 In the same breath as was said "my work is my prayer," can be said "my life is my mortification." The Search for Enduring Values Yet with all this freedom from the past there seems to be a budding sense of frustration and emptiness. There is a growing awareness that in rejecting past practices we have neglected real values that were inherent in them though covered by distortions. A renewed emphasis on contemplation, solitude, and just plain "wasting time" is finding its way back into Christian literature. These concerns are arising not out of a sense of fear of the modern world and an attempt to hold onto the past but out of the faithfulness to one's own being and the call of need from others. There is a new movement beyond the 5Rahner, op. cit., pp. 60-66. 6James Carroll, "Mortification for Liberation," National Catholic Reporter. December 10, 197 I, p. 10. MortiJi'cation / 39~i smashing of past idolized practices to searching for the foundations of the en-during values and treasures of the Church. The present times demand that we be honest with ourselves. We must ad-mit that our work has not really become our prayer nor our living of life a full realization of the spirit of mortification. As Saint Paul so clearly stresses in the ninth chapter of his letter to the Corinthians, there is more to fighting the good fight and running the good race than the contests themselves. Any good athlete spends much time in preparation for the contest in rigorous discipline and training. Just because we find our exercises for the contest to be inade-quate it does not necessarily follow that all exercises are fruitless. What more appropriate time is there for re-examining and reassessing our own commit-ment to and training for the contests of life than now in this Holy Year of renewal and reconciliation with its special focus on personal, interior renewal? Necessity of Re-affirming the Value of Mortification From our discussion of the possible reactions to the experience of suffering and death, it is clear that total acceptance and creative affirmation of them in hope is not man's natural, spontaneous response. The mere acceptance of suf-fering and death as inevitable and a willingness to face it as it comes along is not enough in view of the Christian's radical call to affirm and give himself fully to these realities. If these "contests" are seen to hold out to every man the prize of the very meaning of all life, then they are not simply "contests" which we resign ourselves to entering, but "contests" to be trained and prepared for. A spontaneous response of faith and hope in the face of suffering and death springs from a person who has already radically affirmed these realities in the actions of his own life. The way a person affirms any values in his life is by means of the actions he freely chooses. It would seem that self-chosen acts of self-denial affect the depths of a person in a very special way that fate-imposed

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

Issue 32.5 of the Review for Religious, 1973. ; Review Jot Religious is edited by faculty members of the School of Divinity of St. Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copy-right (~) 1973 by Review ]or Religious. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year; $11.00 for two years; other countries, $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to Review ]or Religious in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent Review ]or Religious. Change of address requests should include former address. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor September 1973 Volume 32 Number 5 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to Review for Religious; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts, books for review, and materials for "Subject Bibliography for Religious" should be sent to Review for Religious; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, SJ.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106. Documents on the Holy Year Paul VI Given here are five documents in chronological order concerning the Holy Year. The English text is that given in the English language weekly edition of Osservatore romatzo. OUR LADY AND THE HOLY YEAR (MAY 30, 1973) You know about the Holy Year. It begins in the local Churches on the forthcoming feast of Pentecost. It aims at being a period of spiri[ual and moral renewal, and at finding its characteristic expression in reconciliation, that is, in the recomposition of order, of which Christ is the principle, in the depths of the consciences of individual souls, the order of every man with God, the order of every human relationship in the harmony of com-munity sentiments, in justice, concord, charity, peace. Prophetic Moment The Holy Year should be a kind of prophetic moment, Messianic awakening, Christian maturity of civilization, which sometimes had its ideal intuition in the poetry of the world, even secular poetry. What does the ancient and well-known prophecy of Virgil say, for example?--you young people, fresh from school, will remember it: "Magnus ab integro saeculorum nascitur ordo" (Buc. IV); his wa~ alyrical inspiration; ours would like to be one of those conscious and ~ollective efforts which produce, in the Church and in the world, a step upwa(ds, a sign of Christian progress, a break through on the plane of humanity imbued with the life-bringing Spirit of the kingdom of God. Is ours a dream? An ideal, certainly, but it must not be an empty, unreal one. Difficult, certainly; and for us, men of little faith, a demand that is beyond our strength. To renew the spiritual and moral energies of the Church, and consequently, or concurrently, those of our society, is a" 961 962 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 courageous aspiration, which makes tangible to us, if nothing else, the necessity of a superior, extrinsic assistance, but near to us, accessible to us, a compassionate, affectionate assistance already marked out in a general plan of goodness and mercy. Such a plan that must needs exist, if it is true, as it is true, that mankind is called, freely but surely, to a destiny of salvation. What assistance? What can be the help that enables us to dare, to hope for the aims of the Holy Year? Who can obtain for us the marvelous result which, following the logical demands of the Council, we have proposed? Humble, Glorious Queen It is the Blessed Virgin, beloved sons, Holy Mary, the Mother of Christ the Savior, the Mother of the Church, our humble and glorious Queen. Here there opens in front of us a great theological panorama, char-acteristic of Catholic doctrine, in which we see how the divine plan of salvation, offered to the world by the one mediator between God and men, efficacious by His own power, Christ Jesus (see 1 Tim 2: 5; Heb 12:24), is carried out with human cooperation, marvelously associated with the divine work (see H. de Lubac, M~d. sur l'Egl., pp. 241 ft.). And what human cooperation has been chosen in the history of our Christian destinies, first in function, dignity and efficiency, not purely instrumental and physical, but as a predestined, though free and perfectly docile factor, if not that of Mary? (see Lumen gentium, 56). Here there is no end to what could be said about the Blessed Virgin; for us, after firmly grasping the doctrine that places her at the center of the redeeming plan, first and, in a certain sense, indispensable beside Christ our Savior, it will be enough to recall and affirm how the renewing outcome of the Holy Year will depend on the superlative assistance of the Blessed Virgin. We need her help, her intercession. We must put on our program a particular cult for the Virgin Mary, if we wish the historico-spiritual event for which we are preparing to reach its real purposes. Need of Marian Cult Now we will merely condense in a twofold recommendation the advantage of this Marian cult to which we entrust so many of our hopes. The first recommendation is a fundamental one: we must. know the Madonna better as the authentic and ideal model of redeemed humanity. Let us study this limpid creature, this Eve without sin, this daughter'of God, in whose innocent, stupendous perfection, the creative, original, intact thought of God is mirrored. Mary is human beauty, not only aesthetic, but essential, ontological, in synthesis with divine Love, with goodness and humility, with the spirituality and the clear-sightedness of the "Magnificat," She is the Virgin, the Mother in the purest and most genuine sense; shb is the Woman clothed with the sun (see Apoc 12:1 ), in beholding whom our Documents on" the Holy Year / 963 eyes must be dazzled, so often offended and blinded as they are by the profaned and profaning images of the pagan and licentious environment by which we are surrounded and almost attacked. Our Lady is the sublime "type" not only of the creature redeemed by Christ's merits, but also the "type" of humanity on its pilgrim way in faith. She is the figure of the Chur(h, as St. Ambrose calls her (In Lc. II, 7; P.L. 15, 1555); and St. Augustine presents her to catechumens: "Figuram in se sanctae Ecclesiae demonstrat" (De Symb. 1, P.L. 40, 661). If we have our eyes fixed on Mary, the blessed, we will be able to reconstitute in ourselves the line and the structure of the renewed Church. Pray to Mary And the second recommendation is ~ao less important: we must have confidence in. recourse to the intercession of the Blessed Virgin. We must pray to her, invoke her. She is admirable in herself, she is lovable to us. As in the Gospel (see Jn 2:3 ff.), she intervenes with her divine Son, and obtains from Him miracles that the ordinary :course of events would not admit. She is kind, she is powerful. She knows human needs and sorrows~ We must renew our devotion to the Blessed Virgin (see Lumen gentium, 67), if we wish to obtain the Holy Spirit and be sincere followers of Christ Jesus. May her faith (Lk 1:45) lead us to the reality of the gospel and help us to celebrate properly the coming Holy Year. With our Apostolic Blessing. LETTER TO HOLY YEAR COMMITTEE (MAY 31, 1973) To His Eminence Cardinal Maximilien de Furstenberg President of the Central Committee for the Holy Year Lord Cardinal, As the official beginning of that vast movement of spiritual renewal, which will have its climax in Rome in 1975, .is on Sunday 10 June, the solemnity of Pentecost, we wish to set forth briefly to you, Lord Cardinal, whom we have made the head of the Central Committee for the Holy Year what are the aims we have in mind with this initiative, what spirit we would like to see prevail in those who respond to our invitation, and what fruits we hope can be gathered with the grace of the Holy Spirit in whose name and in whose, light we are now setting out. As we declared from our very first announcement, on 9 May last [see the text in Review ]or Religious, 1973, pp. 728-30] with the Jubilee we propose the renewal of man b.nd his reconciliation with God, which take place above all in depth, in the interior sanctuary, where conscience is called to bring about its conversibn, or "metanoia," by means of faith and repentance (see Mk 1 : 15 ), and to aim at the fullness of charity. 964 / Review Ior. Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 God Himself,. infinitely merciful, after redeeming the world by means of Jesus Christ His Son, calls all men, none excluded, to pa.rticip.ate in the fruits of redemption (see 1 Tim 2:4) and intervenes with His Holy Spirit to operate salvation in them (see Rom 8:10 ft.). Strengthening the Bonds of Faith and Charity The Church is convinced that only from this interior operation can be derived also the reconciliation between men, as the social dimension embrace all sectors and levels of life, in relations between individuals, families, groups, categories, nations; to become, as far as is possible for man's frailty and the imperfection of earthly institutions, a ferment of peace and universal unity. She undertakes, therefore, to bring it about that the force of the redemp-tion wrought by Christ should strengthen in the faithful, in dioceses, in parishes, in religious communities and in other centers of Christian life and apostolate, as well as in the Churches separated from us up to now, the bonds of faith and charity in the Blood of Christ (see Col 1:20). The Pentecost of grace will thus be able to become also the Pentecost of the new brotherhood. This is the spirit we hope to see flourish in the whole celebration of the Holy Year. Therefore we trust that the value of penitential practices will be redis-covered, as a sign and way of grace, as a commitment for the deep renewal which receives its full efficacy in the sacrament of penance, to be used and administered according to the provisions of the Church, for resumption by the individual and the community of progress along the way of salvation (see Acts 16:17). It seems to us that the expression, the occasion, and, as it were, the synthesis of these practices, which will have their completion in the celebra-tion of the Holy Eucharist, can be the pilgrimage which in the authentic tradition of Christian ascetism has always been 'carried out for reasons of piety and expiation. Today, too, it can be inspired by these motives, both when it takes place in forms more similar to those of the ancient pilgrims to Rome, and when it uses the modern means of communication. Need for Charity It is necessary, however, that the pilgrimage should be accompanied not only by prayer and penance but also by the exercise of brotherly charity, which is a clear demonstration of love of God (see 1 Jn 4:20,21; 3:14), and must be expressed, by the individual faithful, their associations, and ecclesial communities and institutions, in spiritual and corporal works of mercy in favor of needier brothers. Thus the Holy Year qcill really widen the scope of the Church's charity and will portend a renewal and reconcilia-tion of universal dimensions. For these aims to be achieved more easily, let us express the wish that Documents on the Holy Year / 965 the practice of the pilgrimage will be carried out in all the local churches, in cathedrals and sanctuaries, diocesan and national, as intermediate stages converging at last, in 1975, in Rome, the visible center of the universal Church. Here the representatives of the local churches will conclude the way of renewal and reconciliation, venerate the tombs of the Apostles, renew their adhesion to the Church of Peter, and we, God willing, will have the joy of receiving them with open arms and together with them we will bear witness of the unity of the Church in faith and charity. It is our ardent desire that in this march towards the "sources of salva-tion" (see Is 12:3) our sons fully united to the Church of Peter will be joined, in the forms possible for them, also by the other followers of Christ and all those who, along different and apparently distant ways, are seeking the one God with upright conscience .and goodwill (see Acts 17:27). The concrete programs of the pilgrimage and other practices aimed at fostering renewal and reconciliation will certainly be indicated by the Episcopal Conferences for the local churches, taking into account both the outlook and customs of the places, and the real purposes of the Holy Year which we have just outlined. On our side we ask pilgrims, after having prayed according to our inten-tions and to those of the whole episcopal college, to take part, locally, in. a solemn community function, or to make a stop to reflect before the Lord, ending it with the recitation or singing of the Our Father and the Creed and with an invocation to the Blessed Virgin. Gift of Indulgence As if in response to these simple and sincere manifestations by means of which the faithful, in the local churches, will carry out a real conversion and profess that they wish to remain and become stronger in charity towards God and towards their brothers, we, as the humble minister of Christ the Redeemer, will grant, in the due forms, the gift of the Indulgence. Also those sons of ours who, not being able to take part in the pilgrimage because they are prevented by illness or some other serious cause, join in it spir-itually with the offering of their prayers and their suffering, will benefit from this gift. With the Holy Year the Church, exercising the "ministry of reconcilia-tion" (see 2 Cor 5:18), offers privileged opportunities, ~pecial appeals so that all those reached by her word and, even more, as is our wish and our most ardent prayer, by the inner and ineffable touch of grace, may partic-ipate in Christian joy, the fruit of the salvific virtues of the Redeemer. To Refine Spirits We conclude this letter with the expression of the hopes we place in the celebration of the coming Holy Year. They are, we repeat, renewal and reconciliation as interior facts and as implementations of unity, brotherhood, 966 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 and peace, radiating from spirits renewed and reconciled in Christ, throughout the whole Church, and towards the whole human society, on the ways of charity, the fruit of which is justice, goodness, mutual forgive-ness, the gift of oneself and of one's property for one's brothers. In a word we hope and trust that a renewed Christian sense of life will refine spirits and spread abundantly in the world, for common salvation. This, Lord Cardinal, is what we wished to let you know on this eve of an important period of the history of the Church in our days, which will be symbolized, when the time comes, by the opening of the Holy Door. We beg you to communicate it to our Brothers in the Episcopate, while we bless you and all those whom our appeal reaches with the most ample outpouring of our heart, the heart of a father and of the humble servant of the servants of God. From the Vatican Apostolic Palace, 31 May 1973, Feast of the Ascen-sion of Our Lord, the tenth year of our Pontificate. PAULUS PP. VI RENEWAL AND RECONCILIATION (JUNE 6, 1973) As you know, Sunday next, 10 June, is the feast of Pentecost, the feast that commemorates and aims at renewing the descent of the Holy Spirit, the animator, sanctifier, unifier of the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ. And as you likewise know, this forthcoming solemnity will mark the beginning, in the local churches, that is, in the ecclesial communities each presided over by its own bishop, of that religious event, or rather that spiritual movement which we call "Holy Year," followed by the celebration prol~r in. the third quarter of our century, in 1975. You will hear more about it again, a great deal, everywhere. Prepare to understand it, to live it, and specifically in its general purposes. They are a renewal of Christian life such as is demanded and must be possible in the deep and stormy process of the metamorphosis of our times, and a reconciliation of minds and things at which we think we must aim if. we wish to reconstitute in us and outside us that superior order, that "kingdom of God," on which the present and future destinies of humanity depend. Renewal and reconcilia-tion: it seems to us that these must be the logical and general consequences, in the history of the Church and of mankind, of the Council, springing like a river of salvation and civilization from its generating source. Why from Pentecost? Why does this fact start from Pentecost? Not only because this beautiful feast, which we can define as the historical birth of the Church, offers a p~'opitious, inspiring,occasion, but above all because we hope, we beseech, that the Holy Spirit, whose mysterious and ,sensible mission we celebrate at Pentecost, will be the principal Operator of the fruits desired from the Documents on the Holy Year / 967' Holy Year. This, too, will be one of the most important and fruitful themes of spirituality proper to the Holy Year: the Christology and particularly the Ecclesiology of the Council must be succeeded by a new study and a new cult of the Holy Spirit, precisely as the indispensable complement of the teaching of the Council. Let us hope that the Lord will help us to be dis-ciples and teachers of this successive school of his: Jesus, leaving the visible scene of this world, left two factors to carry out his work of salvation in the world: his Apostles and his Spirit (see Congar, Esquisses du mystOre de l'Eglise, p. 129 ft.). We do not wish to enter this magnificent theological field now. For the elementary purposes of this brief preparatory sermon it is enough for us to point out, in the first place, that the action of the Spirit, in the ordinary economy of the divine plan, is carried out in our spirits in respect for our freedom, in fact, with our very cooperation, if only as the condition of divine action in us. We must at least open the window to the entrance of the breath and the light of the Spirit. Let us say a word about this opening, this availability of ours to the mysterious action of the Spirit. Let us ask ourselves what the psychological and moral states of our souls must be, in order that they may receive the "dulcis Hospes animae." This would be enough to weave interminable treatises of spiritual, ascetic, and mystical life. Let us now reduce these states to two only, at least for the sake of being easily remembered, making them correspond to the field preferred by the action of the Paraclete, that is, the Holy Spirit who becomes our assistant, consoler, advocate. Man's Consent'Required The first field is man's "heart." It is true that the. action of grace may leave out of °consideration the subjective correspondence of the one who receives it (a child, for example, a sick person, a dying man), but normally man's .conscience must be in a state of consent, at least immediately after the impulse of the supernatural action of grace. The Holy Spirit has his favorite cell in the human being, the heart (see Rom 5:5). It would take too long to explain what the word "heart" means in Biblical language. Let us be content now to describe the heart as the intimate center, free, deep, personal, of our spiritual life. Anyone who does not have a spiritual life of his own lacks the ordinary capacity to receive .the Holy Spirit, to listen to His soft, sweet voice,, to experience His inspirations, to enjoy His charisms. The diagnosis of modern man leads us to see in him an extroverted being who lives a great deal outside himself and little in himself, like an instrument that is more receptive to the language of the senses and less to that of thought and conscience. The practical conclusion at once exhorts us to praise of silence, not of unconscious, idle, and mute silence, but the silence that subdues noises and exterior clamor and which is able to listen: to listen in depth to the voices, the sincere voices, of conscience 968 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 and to those springing up in the concentration of prayer, to the ineffable voices of contemplation. This is the first field of action of the Holy Spirit. It will be well for us to remember it. Flight trom True Communion ot Ecclesiai Charity And what is the other? The other is "communio," that is, the society of brothers united by faith and charity.in 9ne divine-human organism, the mystical Body of Christ. It is the Church. It is adherence to that mystical Body, animated by the Holy Spirit, who has, in the community of the faithful, hierarchically united, authentically assembled in the name and the authority of the Apostles, his Pentecostal upper room. So we might well consider whether certain ways of seeking the Spirit which prefer to isolate themselves in order to escape both from the directive ministry of the Church and from the impersonal crowd of unknown brethren are on the right path. What Spirit could a selfish communion meet, one that arises from a flight from the true communion of ecclesial charity? What experiences, what charisms could make up for the absence of unity, the supreme encounter with God? And so the program of the Holy Year, inauguated on the feast of the Holy Spirit, is at once placed on the right way: both the way of spiritual life, where He, the Gift of Love, inhabits and awakens and forms and sanctifies our individual personality; and the way of the society of the "saints," that is, the Church of the faithful where salvation is a continual rejoicing for everyone. May our Apostolic Blessing, Sons and Brothers, direct you and follow you along the right way. PROGRESS IN THE SPIRITUAL LIFE (JUNE 13, 1973) ¯ The announcement about the anticipated beginning of the Jubilee celebra-tions which will have their climax in 1975, which you have all certainly heard of, re-echoing in all the dioceses, in the local churches, jolts our conscience in some way, in its religious and moral sensibility, and confronts it with a question ever recurring on the lips of the Church: How is your spiritual life progressing? In a word, this announcement enters the inner recesses of our personality, obliging it to reflect, to examine our conscience on some of its expressions which, like it or not, we all judge fundamental in the very definition of our personality; that is, we feel obliged to answer questions such as the following: Am I one who really believes in religion? Do I profess it, practice it, and how? Do I perceive the relationship between adherence to my religious "creed" and the ideal and practical direction of nay life? Do I perceive the connection between religious life and moral life? If we understand this critical necessity, one of the aims of the Holy Year is already attained: it appears to us first and foremost as one of the pedagogical means with which the Church educates and guides herself---a Documents on the Holy Year / 969 "shock," as is said today, by means of which she aims at a goal considered important and claiming particular interest. Religious Purpose of the Holy Year So it is. For ~he present let us dwell on the first purpose which is cer-tainly in the intention of the Church in promoting the Holy Year: the religious purpose. ¯ We could raise an easy objection, namely, is it necessary to commit the Catholic world and, indirectly at least, also the secular world, to the religious issue? Is there not a continuous and normal effort of the Church already in progress in favor of religion? Did not the Council suffice to reaffirm religion's right of presence in our times? And does not the Church exhort us every day, every Sunday, every feast, to celebrate some religious mystery? What more is wanted? The answer is not a difficult one. Religion is a thing that, in itself, can never be satisfied with its understanding, its profession, its discovery. It puts man in contact with such riches of truth and life that it does indeed quench all our thirst, but does not extinguish it: ions vincit sitientem; on the contrary it stimulates it for other conquests. Furthermore it happens, and this is what concerns us more here, that our attitude towards the goods of the spirit is not constant; we are changeable, we are fragile. It is this phen-omenon of the decadence of religious life, always possible on the part of man, that demands, historically, new interventions on each occasion, more suitable and more effective ones, so that human faithfulness may not be exhausted. The Need of Prayer The history of religious .life is full of these unhappy vicissitudes, just as it is full of vigorous revivals and generous recoveries. Now we all know, more or less, the formidable and systematic attack mounted against religion, our own in the first place, since it is socially structured and organically precise in its doctrine and its rites, in these times of ours in which there is a tendency to equate the secularization of society with its progress and to evolve a humanism that is radically atheist. In a certain sense, which unfortunately is not restricted to negligible or marginal manifestations, the mentality of the new lay generations has to start from the very threshold of religious life. The ministry of the faith must begin again from elementary initiation into the simplest religious expressions. By way of example, we would like to propose a first.question: Do we know how to pray? We are not casting doubt, with this aggressive question, on the validity, the efficacy, the success of the liturgical reform (of which we will be able to speak on another occasion). We mean rather to ask if the man of today, a disciple ofour "consumer" society, as is said," which is engrossed in the pursuit and enjoyment of temporal goods and imbued 970 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 with the proud conviction, that it can solve everything .by itself,-without any recourse to God, or any transcendent conception of the sensible and ratio-nalist world, if this man is still able to utter in his heart any sincere, even though informal, but deep and personal conversation with God. It would be very interesting if, in the light of the Holy Year, there should spring to the lips of modern men the frank request, addressed to Christ the Master by His disciples one day: "Teach us to pray!" (Lk 11:11). That is, it would be desirable to bring to life again in people the sense, the con-cept, the need of religion; and at the same time the hope, the certainty, let us say even more, the experience of speaking tothe God of the universe; and at the same time the surprise, too, of enjoying the capacity of being able to address Him with the name, the most authentic title of His kindness and our dignity; the title of Father. Such a result would be a kind of revision of all our deviations and aberrations; it would be the rebirth of love and hope in the world. It would be the rediscovery of the reason for calling the Church "mother" (see St. Cyprian, De unitate Ecclesiae, VI, P.L. 4, 591); it would be the new insertion of salvation in the conscience and the history of the world. Our.Father! Amen. With our Apostolic Blessing. INTERIORITY AND THE HOLY YEAR (JUNE 20, 1973) Let us speak again of the Holy Year which began in the local churches on the feast of Pentecost. We will speak of it again because we would like to see, round this "Holy Year" formula, as we have already said, not only the fulfillment, but the development of a historic moment in the spiritual life of the Church, not just an event, but a religious movement. This con-ception seems to us, in the first place, in conformity with the motive of this celebration: renewal and reconciliation, aimed at stamping a permanent and general renewal on the religious and moral conscience of our times, inside and, if possible, outside the Catholic Church. In the second place, this view of the Holy Year, it seems to us, intends to reflect in the reality of thought and morals the great plan of the Council,. and prevent its salutary teaching from being relegated to the archives as voices of the past, but rather that they should operate in a masterly way in the actual life of the present and the future generation. It must be a school that becomes life. Call for New Inspiration In the third place, we wish to give importance and extension to this extraordinary religious expression, which we call the Holy Year, because the historical and social circumstances of our times are so heavy and over-powering with regard to our faith and its consequent existential logic that a necessity of seriousness, incisiveness, and strength must, it seems to us, sustain the "movement" of the Holy Year right from the beginning. Either Documents on the Holy Year / 971 it will win recognition as a general, serious, and united effortl and theret~ore a really renewing one, or it will at once be extinguished and exhausted .as a sterile attempt; good and meritorious perhaps, but in practice shortlived and ineffective. At this point some preliminary observations arise which it is well to keep in mind right now. The doubt, or rather the fear, may arise in some people that the Holy.Year movement will oppose so many other spiritual and pastoral movements, the programs of which are already tested by long and clear experience, or already approved by the authority of the Church, or recognized as legitimate and free expressions of the vitality of the People of God. No, we answer: the Holy Year does not intend to suspend, choke, and sweep away the variety and riches of the authentic manifestations already going on in the ecclesial world. The Holy Year would rather imbue them with new energy, and at the most, if possible, connect them in some way with its own general program, which calls in this case rather for the acceptance of a deep, new inspiration than for a specific and concrete ad-herence to precise particular frameworks. Not Triuml~halism Others may think that it is desired to celebrate the Holy Year in a tri-umphalistic style, with trumpetings and overwhelming exterior events, giving the exterior aspect of the movement derived from it an importance greater than other aspects of religious and Catholic life, for which, however, it is necessary to claim an importance that cannot be renounced, perhaps even a superior importance. On this point, which can constitute a strong objec-tion to the celebration of the Holy Year, we wish to invite the good to a twofold reflection. It is indeed possible, please God, that the Holy Year will have the support of the people, flocking crowds, the spectacular ap-pearance of multitudes. It is an ecclesial, universal fact; at some moments it reflects the catholic character of vocation to the gospel. It is humanity, in its immense extension, that we make the object of our invitation and our interest; also and above all on this occasion we wish to give to the heart of the Church the dimensions of the world! Should we protest, then, if the phenomenon takes on excep-tional quantitative forms and proportions? Is itnot the mystery of the unity of the Church, always manifested in the multiplicity of her univoca| and expanded fiches? We will all enjoy it. if the Lord bestows on us the grace of seeing "the spaces of charity" so widened (see St. Augustine, Sermo 69; P.L. 38, 440-441). But, in the second place, let us say at once that this spectacular, and perhaps touristic result, is not specifically the aim of the Holy Year. If a purpose of universal communion cannot but exist in the interttions of an affirmation that concerns the whole Church in her essential properties of unity and catholicity, it is not, however, the primary one as effect in time, 972 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 nor as a value in itself, because it presupposes and demands the attainment of another prior aim: the conversion of hearts, the interior renewal of spirits, the personal adherence of consciences. First the individual, conscious and aware; then the crowd. Interior Conversion We.would like this first purpose of the Holy Year to be given supreme importance. We must aim first and foremost at an interior renewal, a con-version of personal sentiments, liberation, from conventional imitation of others, revision of our outlook, deploring, more than anything else, our shortcomings before God, and towards the society of men our brothers, and with regard to the concept that everyone must have of himself, as a son of God, as a Christian, as a member of the Church. It is a new philosophy of life, if we may say so, that must be formed in every member of the mystical Body of Christ; everyone of us is invited to rectify his way of think-ing, feeling, and acting with regard to the,ideal model of the follower of Christ, while being a loyal and hard-working citizen of contemporary civil society. This great conception of the Holy Year--to give Christian life an authentic expression, consistent, interior, full, capable of "renewing the face of the earth" in the Spirit of Christ --- must be clearly present in our minds, with one very important immediate consequence: the accomplishment of this proiect begins at once and takes place in the personal conscience of each of us. We would like this personal and interior aspect of the great spiritual enterprise, now begun, to head all programs. Each one of us must feel called upon to work out for himself and in himself the religious, psychological, moral, and operative renewal which the Holy Year aims at achieving. Personal Examination With this first practical consequence: we must all verify, or carry out the introspective examination about the main line of our life, that is, about the free and responsible choice of our own vocation, our own mission, our own definition, as a man and as a Christian. A vital examination! And a second consequence, far easier, but far more insistent: it is necessary to resume the practice of good, of honesty, seeking what is better in little things, that is, in the sequence of our ordinary actions, where our defects lie in wait for us at every moment, sometimes disastrously; and where, on the contrary, integrity of action can be easily perfected, if we remember the teaching of the Lord Jesus: "He who is faithful in a very little is faithful also in much" (Lk 16:10). This is something to begin with immediately, for everyone; with our Apostolic Blessing. Documents concerning Religious Men The first of the two documents printed below is the address of the Holy Father on May 25, 1973, to superiors of religious orders who were taking part in the first meet-ing planned by the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes to take place in Rome. The second document is a letter sent by the Pope to the Franciscan Minister General on the occasion of the General Chapter of the Friars Minor held in Madrid, Spain. TO RELIGIOUS SUPERIORS (MAY 25, 1973) Venerable Brothers and beloved Sons, We cordially salute you who, under the aegis of the Sacred Congrc, gation for Religious and Secular Institutes and of its worthy Cardinal PrefeCt,. are engaged in a reunion to discuss questions of no mean weight pertainin~,~[o " a life wholly consecrated to God~ Seeing you here, the superiors of so many religious families whose members are spread throughout the whole world, and having in mind your works which also extend tO every part of the world, we have to regard this meeting of yours and our gathering together here now as an event of considerable ecclesial importance. Two years ago, as you well know, we issued an apostolic exhortation beginning with the words "Evan.gelica testificatio" (Evangelical Witness), in which we reminded the religious institutes how their life must be r~newed in accordance with the directives of Vatican Council II. Now, as a confirma-tion and follow-up of that document, we wish to offer some points which it seems to us desirable to recommend, moved as we are by our paternal solicitude for these same institutes of yours. The Second Vatican Council proclaimed the charismatic nature of the religious life, declaring that the evangelical counsels are "a divine gift, which the Church received from our Lord" (Dogm. Const. Lumen gentium, 973 97'4 / Review for Religious, l/'olume 32, 1973/5 43). By this gift or charism, from its very nature, the religious "are joined in a special manner to the Church and its mystery" (ibid., 44). Whence it follows that, by reason of this intimate and very close bond, they are dependent upon ~he authority of the Church which gives authentic approval to their rules, receives the vows of those who make profession, raises that profession to the dignity of canonical status (ibid., 45) and renders the religious themselves participants in the carrying out of its salvific mission. For the steps taken by religious towards holiness are of service to all inert for their spiritual profit: "Let them know that, when the gift of themselves is accepted by the Church, they themselves are also committed to the service of the Church" (Perfectae caritatis, 5). The Holy Spirit who bestows the charisms and is at the same time the life-spring of the Church brings about the fitting mutual accord between the charismatic inspiration and the juridical structure of the Church, the more necessary because, as Vatican Council II lays down, pastors have "to give judgment as to the genuine nature and due exercise of the charisms, not indeed that they are to extinguish the Spirit but that they are to test all and retain what is good (see 1 Thess 5:12,19,21 ; A postolicam actuositatem, 3). In such a gathering as this it gives us pleasure to say again that the Church cannot do without religious, that is to say, without those witnesses of the love which Christ bore towards men, a love which far transcends nature, nor can the world be deprived of this light without loss to itself (see Evangelica testificatio, 3). For that same reason the Church itself bears witness to its high esteem for them, surrounds them with unfailing love, and does not fail to be at their side "to guide them along the true path" (see Ps 26:11). Church Expects Much But the Church expects much of the religious; through them must be "increased its fair perfection and holiness which only the imitation of Christ and mystical union with Him can give" (see Alloc. to the Conciliar Fathers, Sept. 29, 1965; AAS, 55, 1963, p. 851). The Church, through the magisterium of the Ecumenical Council, its most weighty authority, sum7 moned the religious to renewal, especially spiritual renewal. We know that not a few have striven, and are still striving, to respond to this high expectation; but it has to be said that some. have not paid heed ~to this clarion call or have not interpreted it correctly. Permit us, therefore, to remind you earnestly of the duty there is to effect the aforesaid renewal "to which priority is to be given also in promoting the external works of the apostolate" (Perfectae caritatis, 2e). From the founts of baptismal grace and of the particular charism which belongs to each of your institutes, fresh clear streams must be drawn where-by a life consecrated to-God may become possessed of an abundance of needed strength. Documents concerning Religious Men / 975 Jubilee Year But now we would pass on to a special ecclesial happening which we believe will be of particular interest also to the religious. This is the universal Jubilee which, as you are well aware, we have proclaimed, to be celebrated first in the local churches and then in the city of Rome. Since its intended object is interior renewal, also called conversion, metanoia (change of mind) or penance~ the Church depends much on the pastoral help of the religiouff. So that it will be yours, dear superiors general, to see to it that the families of which you are the heads help on and foster the operation of the Jubilee, especially by co-operating with the sacred hierarchy, in order that this renewal of souls may be effected, and that not only each one's private life but public morals too will be brought into line with Christian precepts. The religious themselves should take this God-given opportunity to think over their curriculum and way of life. That is to say, they should feel moved to compare their actual mode of life with .what is asked of them by Vatican Council II and by the apostolic exhortation Evangelica testi~catio, in order to see whether they are meeting the needs of today and are making our Savior as it were manifestly present within the fellowship of mankind. But in order that this testimony of the religious may be truly efficacious and grow in extent, the following must be noted, or rather recalled to mind. We do not cease to extol the power and necessity of prayer without which we cannot savor the intimate and true knowledge of God (see Ev. test., 43) nor find the strength to pursue the path of perfection. As the Council teaches, the importance and usefulness of prayer made in common are rightly and deservedly to be publicized. But besides this, private prayer must also be cultivated, for by this each one's spiritual vigor is maintained and increased, and by it, too, souls are soundly prepared for prayer in com-mon, especially for liturgical prayer, and are able to obtain nourishment and growth from the same. Faitldulness 1o Prayer It can well be observed of those religious whose spirituallife is flourish-ing and fruitful for others that they are "praying" religious; whereas of those who are wearied of that life or pitifully abandon the religious state, that they are almost always sluggish in the mat(er of praying. For this reason it is abundantly clear that "faithfulness to prayer or abandonment to the same are the test of the vitality or decadence of religious life" (Ev. test., 42). Christ has called you to a more perfect following of Himself and so to the carrying Of the cross, for this latter cannot be separated from your state of life. But let this cross be not only a singular instrument for the purifica-tion of the soul and a special form of apostolate; let it also be a manifest proof of love, not something oppressive but rather uplifting. "Is there not 976 / Review for Religious, liolume 32, 1973/5 a mysterious relation between renunciation and joy . between discipline and spiritual freedom?" (Ev. test., 29). Lastly, the common life is one of the more powerful elements in the renewal of religious life. Those truly very beautiful passages in no. 15 of the decree Perfectae caritatis should be re-read, read indeed again and again and with ever-renewed appreciation. In them are to be found not mere precepts of law regarding the common life, but an admirable exposition of its theological, spiritual, ecclesial, apostolic and human aspects~ There-fore there is laid upon you, beloved sons, no slight obligation to do all ' possible in order to ensure that such conditions of life are established in your houses as are "calculated to foster the spiritual advancement of each of the community" (Ev. test., 39). This truly evangelical brotherhood is also a firm safeguard for the members, especially for those who may be discouraged, passing through a crisis, suffering from sickness or old age. Which Shall Survive? Whilst today so many things are being called into question, the religious life, too, is made the subject of not a few difficulties, as you yourselves are discovering day by day. Thus there are those who anxiously seek to know how religious life is likely to shape in the years to come, whether its destiny will prove to be for better or for worse. In this regard many of you are concerned because of the fewness or lack of candidates, or because of the regrettable desertions from amongst your members. But this future destiny lies in the fidelity with which each institute follows out its vocation, that is to say, in the extent to which it. expresses in its conduct of life th~ consecration which it has vowed to God. It is above all the example of a way.of life enhanced by spiritual joy and a resolute will to be at the service of God and the brethren, which attracts candidates to religious life in our times. For the youth of today, when they give themselves to God, aim for the most part "to give all for all" (see Imitation of Christ III, 37, 5); there-fore they more readily join those institutes in which there thrives and flourishes that "kind of virginal and poverty-stricken life which Christ our Lord chose for Himself and which his Virgin Mother embraced" (dogm. constitution Lumen gentium, 46). Words of Augustine We may, then, conclude this paternal discourse with some words of St. Augustine who was himself a most outstanding promoter and eulogizer of religious life: "We exhort you in the Lord, brethren, to hold safe to your purpose and to persevere to the end; and if holy Mother Church desires some work of you, do not grasp it with over-eager elation nor yet reject it through delusive sloth; but be obedient to God with meekness of heart, with mildness bearing him who rules you, who guides the mind in Documents concerning Religious Men / 977 judgment, who teaches the meek his ways" (Ps 24:9; Ex 48, 2; PL 33, 188). Finally, with the fervent wish that this reunion of yours may have a prosperous and salutary outcome, we willingly impart to you and those committed to your care the Apostolic Blessing as a witness of our most sure affection. FRANCISCAN SPIRITUALITY (MAY 26, 1973) To Our beloved Son CONSTANTINE KOSER Minister General of the Order of Friars Minor In as much as the general chapter of the Order of Friars Minor will soon take place in Madrid, we believe it is only fitting for us to have our voice reach that particular assembly and each individual member of the same Franciscan family through this letter of ours, by which we desire to encourage, exhort, and guide you. This meeting is "a sort of general council, which gathers from every part of the world under one rule of life (see Th. of Celano, Vita secunda shncti Francisci, no. 192; Analecta ]ranciscana, 1926; 941, p. 240). Consequently it is an event which has a great influence and effect on the very life of an organization so widely diffused. By rights then we wish you to be the object of that "concern for all the churches" (see 2 Cor 11:28) which weighs upon our shoulders. Directives Accepted We do not believe it is necessary to repeat all that the Second Vatican Council providentially and authoritatively taught on the renewal of the religious life, nor to inculcate once again what we ourselves, following the Council, set forth in our apostolic exhortation entitled Evangelica Testi]icatio. For we are convinced that you have accepted all those directives in a spirit of obedience and have made every effort up to the present time to make them a part of your way of life. With this in mind we would like to reiterate and emphasize that which we told the members of the last general chapter held in Assisi, onamely, that the spread of your Order throughout the world, the model of its evangelical life, and its generously undertaken apostolate are all a great honor for the Church (see AAS, 59, p. 782). However, we would like to discuss this one point with you: just what is the mission, what is the vocation of your religious family in this age of ours? We ask this question so that we can lead you along to that answer which the Church expects of you. Right now, that is, in these turbulent times of ours, the Church most earnestly desires and zealously strives to have religious institutes "grow and prosper according to the spirit of their foun-ders" (Vat. II, Lumen gentium, 45). As tradition says once happened, may 9711 / Review Ior Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 St. Francis, your founding father, be present as it were from the very beginning of your meetings and deliberations, standing at the door of the chapter hall and blessing every and all the members: look upon him! (see S. Bonaventure, Legenda maior s. Francisci, IV, 10; Analecta ]ranciscana op. mem., p. 576). Following Christ What Holy Mother the Church asks of you--as she always has done in the past--is contained in this one phrase: "Follow in the footsteps of Christ" (1 Pt 2:21). Does not the wonderful teaching and example which St. Francis offers you consist precisely in this following of Christ? For, "casting off every trace of special honor and vanity" (see Th. of Celano, op. mem., n. 144, p. 231), he gave himself completely to Christ, and on Mount Alverno he reached the culmination, so to speak, of that reality, so much so that he could say with the Apostle Paul: "Far be it from me to boast in anything except in the cross of Christ through whom the world has been crucified to me and I to the world" (Gal 6:14). As a result, "look carefully, and act according to the model shown to you on the mountain" (Ex 25:40). The more faithful image of the Savior--virgin, poor, obedient --your life becomes, the more it will testify and impart to souls the salva-tion obtained by him. As usually happens in the ordinary course of events, this fundamental truth is clouded over at times because of different factors. You know from your own experience and from the history of your Order which embraces a number of centuries that, as often as the Franciscan way of life departs from this path, great harm comes out of that which was supposed to be a source of great edification (see S. Bonaventure, Opusc. XIX, Epist. 2, n. 1; Opera omnia, Ad Claras Aquas, VIII, p. 470). Nevertheless, what St. Bonaventure says in general--namely that truth can be temporarily down-trodden, but must necessarily rise up again (see Commentar. in Evang. Luc. 21, n. 23: Opera omnia, ibid., VII, p. 528)---can also be happily applied to your own internal events and accomplishments. It is greatly to be hoped, therefore, that this particular principle may be fully effective even at this time as far as is necessary and may work both in your attitude and way of life, as well as your statements and plans, and in the renewal of your legislation. Loyalty to Church But fidelity in maintaining this following of Christ demands another kind of faithfulness: that toward the Church. Between the two there is such a relationship that the one can be known from the other. For this reason St. Francis "wholly and entirely of the Catholic faith" directed his brothers to honor the venerable footprints of the Holy Roman Church, which, in spite of every intervening difficulty,, safeguarded the bonds of charity and peace Documents.concerning Religious Men / 979 among them (see Th. of Celano, op, mere., nn. 8,and 24, pp. 135 and 145). Thus it happened that the Franciscan way of life and °work became, as it were, a river which quickened the City,,of God (Ps 45:5): suffice it to mention fhose intelligently devised plans, the evangelization of the populace, the social works and those of charity, the attractive force which goes beyond the boundaries of your own institute. Therefore it is this .feeling for and service of the Church which is your primitive, original vocation. It would be spoiled and lost if you were to consider it a mere event of a past age. On the contrary, it must always be "in action"; that is right now you must obey God, '"ivho is calling you" (1 Thess 5:24). You must undertake the tasks and responsibilities which the Church is now asking of you. Defending the Gospel At this very time great courage is demanded, especially in regard to the teaching of the truth. Are there not people here and there who "want to change the_gospel of Christ?" (Gal 1:7). In the same way, under the pressure of many individuals in our contemporary society, people get-the idea that obedience to the true faith and concern for moral behavior are no longer of profit for the advancement of the community of the Church, ~but ratl~er are an obstacle to freedom--which they understand in the wrong way. In as much as this is the way things are going, every Friar Minor should--as we firmly trust---consider himself as "assigned to the defense of the gospel" (see Phil 1:16). Let no one from your religious family allow himself to be entangled by the allurements of popularity ~which is so ephemeral and shallow; let no one out of fear give into the temptation, which is becoming the mode today, of conforming himself to the world. But if all who have been reborn through baptism "are obliged to profess before men the faith they have received from God through the Church" (Vat. II, Lumen gentium, 11 ), this obligation binds you so much more, because St. Francis gave you this common command to be implemented: "Obey the word of the Son of God . for He has sent you into the whole world that you might give witness to His teaching through your words and works" (Epistula ad Capitulum: Opuscula; Ad Claras Aquas, 1904, p. 100). Spread Peace May your zeal for the spread of the "gospel of peace" (Eph 6:15) be inflamed; something which will not happen unless "the truth of the Gospel remains among you" (Gal 2, 5). Certainly you are convinced that this good news of the gospel will be spread "not . . . in words alone, but in fullness and strength and the Holy Spirit" (see 1 Thess 1:5). For this reason, you must contemplate the outstanding examples of your forefathers and must be present in the world with all of that gentleness and kindness which will Review for Religious, l/olume 32, 1973/5 make the intimate relationship between Christ and the Church stand out clearly, for it is this relation which applies and continues and renders visible the very work of the Savior. People from your own ranks should be at the disposal of this Church community; endowed with fitting qualities of soul and intellect, they should by their zeal and example bring the people to follow Christ the Poor Man, and they ought to do. this with complete trust in the Holy Spirit. People do not ask of you that you harmonize with the world in an equivocal fashion; for they are demanding that you show forth to them the sublimity of your own way of life, so that by looking upon it they may begin to have qualms about their own lives and may seek the city to come (see Heb 13: 14). Even at this time men are searching their souls for some-thing absolute which transcends nature; even at this time they can be led on to God by all created realities which have been reconciled through Christ (see Heb 1:19 ff.) and which speak of God. St. Francis gave your own spirituality this special mark and characteristic: it was to show that the world could be transformed in such a way that work could be called ' a grace and death a sister. Therefore, as you preach the gospel, give special priority to the teaching which is contained in the sermon on the Beatitudes, and according to which poverty is turned into riches, weeping into joy, and lowliness int~ public acclaim (Lk 6:20-3). Even though human weakness and malice continue to exist, you must affirm and promote the good, in order that in all cases and individuals it may occupy the first place, in order that the hope of the future life, which is the special characteristic of Christ's followers, may shine forth (see 1 Thess 4:13). Be therefore the guardians of this hope in the world! Dear Friars Minor! "We have spoken to you as sons; be open and joyful yourselves" (see 2 Cor 6:13)! Listen willingly to what the Church expects of you; fulfill willingly her wishes according to the nature of your vocation; sanctify yourselves and work for the extension of the king-dom of God to all the lands of the earth and for its firm establishment in the hearts of all men (see Vat. II, Lumen gentium, 45). We pray God very earnestly that He may be graciously present and near your general chapter and that it may have a successful outcome. To you therefore, Beloved Son, and to all the members of your Order, we affectionately impart our Apostolic Blessing as a testimony of our paternal regard. From the Vatican, 26 May 1973, in the tenth year of our Pontificate. PAULUS PP. VI The Eucharistic Prayers Sacred Congregation [or Divine Worship The following is an English translation of a letter of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship with regard to the Eucharistic Prayers. The translation is that of the weekly English language edition of Osservatore romano. 1. The reform of the sacred liturgy and especially the re-organization of the Roman Missal recently completed in accordance With the requireme.nts of Vatican Council 111 are intended above all to facilitate an intelligent, devout, and active participation in the Holy Eucharist on the part of the faithful.-~ A notable feature of this new Roman Missal, published with the authority of Paul VI, is undoubtedly the wealth of text from which a choice may often be made, whether in the case of the Readings from Holy Writ or in that of the chants, prayers, and acclamations on the part of the faithful, or again in regard to the "presidential" prayers, not indeed excluding the Eucharistic Prayer itself for which three new texts, in addition to the venerable traditional Roman Canon, have been brought into use? Variety of Texts in the Missal 2. The reason for providing this ample variety of texts and the purpose intended by the revision of the forms of prayer to be used are of a pastoral nature, namely in order to bring about both unity and variety of liturgical prayer. By making use of these texts as set forth in the Roman Missal, the 1See Vatican "Council II, the constitutio~ Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 48, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 113. 2See Paul VI, the aiaostolic constitution Missale romanum, April 3 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), pp. 217-22. 3Ibid., p. 219. 981 Review Jor Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 various groups of the faithful who gather together to celebrate the Holy Eucharist feel that they form part of the one Church praying with one faith and one prayer, and at the same time they enjoy a timely ability, especially where the vernacular is used, of being able to proclaim in many ways the one same mystery of Christ, whilst they can the more easily lift up their hearts individually to God in prayer and thanksgiving4 and can participate in the celebration with great spiritual fruit. 3. For some years after its promulgation the new Roman Missal could not be completely introduced everywhere for celebration with the people, because the translation of it into the vernacular of. a great number of nations was an enormous work requiring quite a period of time? Moreover, the opportunity thus provided for increasing pastoral efficacy is oftentimes not appreciated nor, in arranging the Mass, is sufficient thought given to the common good of the congrega~tion.6 New Requests 4. Meanwhile a desire has arisen amongst not a few to adapt the Eucharistic celebration still further by the composition of new forms of prayer, including even new Eucharistic Prayers. They say that the choice provided by the present "presidential" prayers and the four Eucharistic Prayers in the existing "Ordo Missae" still does not fully meet the manifold requirements of the different groups, regions, and peoples. Therefore it was many times requested of this Sacred Congregation to approve, or grant the faculty of approving and bringing into use, new texts both of ordinary prayers and of Eucharistic Prayers .more in tune with the modern, way of thinking and of talking. Moreover, quite a number of authors of various languages and countries have published, during the last few years, Eucharistic Prayers composed by: themselves under the guise of studies; and it has frequently happened thak, notwithstanding what is laid down in Vatican Council II7 and episcopal pro-hibitions, some priests have made use of privately composed texts in their celebration Of Mass. 5. In view of all the foregoing, the Sacred Congregation, by mandate of the Supreme Pontiff and after consulting experts from various parts of the globe, gave careful study to the question of the composing of new 4See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 54. ¯ ~With regard to the principles according to which the translations must be made, see the Commission for the Execution of the Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy, "Instruction sur la traduction des textes liturgiques pour la c616bration avec le peuple," January 25 1969, Notitiae, 5 (1969), pp. 3-12. 6"Institutib generalis Missalis romani," no. 313. zSee Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 22, par. 3, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 106. The Eucharistic Prayers / 91~3 Eucharistic Prayers and of giving to Episcopal Conferences the faculty of approving them, together with cognate questions and their outcome. The conclusions arrived at from this study were submitted to the members of this Sacred Congregation at a plenary session, to the judgement of the other Sacred Congregations concerned, and finally to the Supreme Pontiff. After mature consideration of the whole question, it did not seem advis-able at this juncture to grant to Episcopal Conferences the general faculty of bringing out or approving new Eucharistic Prayers. On the contrary, it has seemed more opportune to call attention to the pressing need of giving fuller instruction on the nature and reality of he Eucharistic Prayer? Seeing that this is the culminating point of the celebration, it must also be the culminating point, of an instruction in depth on the subject. It seems like-wise necessary that fuller, information should be given as to the possibilities of encouraging a full participation on the part of the~ faithful, offered to priests by the use of the current liturgical regulations and of the prayer-forms contained in the Roman Missal. Directives 6. Therefore the four Eucharistic Prayers contained in the revised Roman Missal remain in force, and it is not permitted to make .use of any other composed without the permission of the Apostolic See or without the approval of the same. Episcopal Conferences and individual bishops are earnestly begged to put pertinent arguments before their priests in order to bring them wisely to the observance of the same regulations as laid down by the Roman Church, to the benefit of the Church itself and in furtherance of the proper conducting of liturgical functions. .The Apostolic See, moved by the pastoral desire for unity, reserves to i~elf the right of determining a matter of such great importance as the regulations for the Eucharistic Prayers. Within the unity of the Roman Rite it will not refuse to consider legitimate, requests; and petitions coming to it from Episcopal Conferences for the drawing up of some new Eucharistic Prayer in particular circumstances and introducing it into the liturgy will be given ~benevolent consideration; but in each case the Holy See will lay down the norms to be followed. 7. After making this decision known, it seems useful to offer some con-siderations which may render its meaning clearer and its execution easier. Of these, some have to do with the nature and importance of the Eucharistic Prayer in liturgical, and especially Roman, tradition; others concern the things that can be done to accommodate the celebration to each congrega-tion without in any way altering the text of the Eucharistic Prayer. sSee Cardinal Benno Gut, "Letter to the Presidence of Episcopal Conference," Janu-ary 2 1969, Notitiae, 4 (1969), pp. 146-8; "Indications pour faciliter la cat6ch~se des anaphores de la Messe," ibid., pp. 148-55. 9114 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 Nature o[ Eucharistic Prayer 8. The Eucharistic Prayer, which is of its very nature the "culminating point of the whole celebration," is a "prayer of thanksgiving and of sanc-tification" whose purpose is "that the whole congregation of the faithful may unite i[self with Christ in proclaiming the wondrous things of God and in offering the sacrifice.''9 This Prayer is offered by the ministering priest who is the intermediary translating both the voice of God addressed to the people, and the voice of the people lifting up the soul to God. It alone must be heard, while the congregation gathered to celebrate the sacred litur-gy remains devoutly silent. In this Prayer, over and above the catechetical.indications intended to highlight the particular characteristic of. any celebration, there supervenes the element of thanksgiving for the universal mystery of salvation or for some particular aspe.ct of this which, in accordance with the day, the feast, the season, or the rite, is being celebrated.1° For this reason, in order that those taking part in the Eucharist may the better render thanks to God and bless Him, already in the new Roman Missal "there has been an increase in the provision of Prefaces, either taken from the ancient tradition of the Roman Church or 'now composed for the first time, by means of which particular aspects of the mystery of salva-tion are brought out and more and richer motives for thanksgiving are offered."11 For the same reason, the priest presiding at the Eucharist enjoys the faculty of introducing the Eucharistic Prayer with a brief reminder12 to the people of the motives for thanksgiving in words suited to the congregation at the particular time, in such manner that those present feel that their own way of life is part and parcel of the history of salvation and gain ampler benefits from the celebration of the Eucharist. ~ 9. Again, so far as the end looked to by the Eucharistic Prayer is con-cerned, as well as its make-up and structure, the aspect known as petition or intercession is to be considered secondary. In the reformed liturgy that aspect is developed especially in the universal prayer whereby, in a freer form and one more suited to the circumstances, supplications are made for the Church and for mankind. Nonetheless, the new liturgical books offer also a variety of forms of intercession to be inserted into the different Eucharistic Prayers, according to the structure of each, in particular celebra- '~"Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 54. 1°See ibid., no. 552. 11Paul VI, the apostolic constitution Missale romanum, April 3 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), p. 219. lzSee "Institutio generalis Missalis romani,'" no. 11. The Eucharistic Prayers / 985 tions, and above all in ritual Masses.1~ In this way the reason for any partic-ular celebration is made clear and definitive, while at the time the offering of this prayer in communion with the whole Church is signalized,at Embolisms 10. Besides the variations noted above, which are intended to bring about a closer connection between the thanksgiving and the intercessions, there are also, in the Roman tradition, some special formulas to be used "infra actionem" on the principal solemnities of the liturgical year, whereby the memorial of the mystery of Christ being celebrated is made the more manifest.1,~ It is clear from this that there was concern in ancient tradition to main-tain the unchangeable character of the text, while yet not excluding certain opportune variations. If the faithful, hearing the same text again and again, unite themselves somewhat the more easily with the priest celebrant in prayer, nevertheless some variations, though only few in number, prove acceptable and useful, arousing attention, as they do, encouraging piety and lending a certain special quality to the prayer. Nor is there any reason why the Episcopal Conferences should not make similar provision for their own areas, a bishop for his diocese, or the com-petent authority for the Proper pertaining to a religious family, in regard to the points mentioned above (nos. 8-10) as open to variation, and then ask the Holy See for confirmation of the same. Ecclesial Dimensions 11 :' The ecclesial importance attaching to the Eucharistic celebration is to be highly esteemed. For while in the celebration of the Eucharist "there is represented and brought about the unity of the faithful who constitute one body in Christ,''~6 "the celebration of Mass is already in itself a profession of faith in which the Church recognizes and expresses itself.''~7 All this is abundantly apparent in the Eucharistic Prayer itself, in which not just some lain regard to Eucharistic Prayer I or the Roman Canon, besides the faculty of introducing names in the Memento (N.N.), see the special Memento for godparents in Masses for the initiation into the Church of adults and the formulas for the Hanc igitur in Masses from the Easter vigil to the second Sunday of paschal time, for baptisms of adults, for confirmation, ordination, marriages, profession, for the con-secration of virgins; in regard to Eucharistic Prayers II, III, IV, see Embolisms for adult neophytes, those professed, and consecrated virgins. a4See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 55g. x.~See the proper Communicantes for Christmas and octave, for the Epiphany, from the Mass of the paschal vigil until the second Sunday of paschal time, for the Ascension and for Pentecost. x6See Vatican Council II, the constitution Lumen gentium, no. 3, AAS, v. 57 (1965), p. 62 ~rSecretariat for Christian Unity, the instruction ltt quibus rerum circumstantiis, June 1 1972, no. 2b, AAS, v. 64 (1972), p. 520. 986 / Review for Religious, l/olume 32, 1973/5 private person or a local community only, but "the one only Catholic Church" existing in whatsoever number of individual churches18 addresses itself to God. But where Eucharistic Prayers are introduced without any approbation from the competent authority in the Church, disquiet and dissensions fre-quently arise among priests and in congregations, whereas on the contrary the Eucharist ought to be "a sign of unity" and "a bond of charity.''19 Indeed not a few complain of the too subjective character of such texts. The fact is that those who take part in the celebration have a right that the Eucharistic Prayer, which they ratify as it were by their "Amen," should not be mixed up with or wholly imbued with the personal preferences of the one'who wrote the text br makes use of it. Hence it is. obviously necessary that only those texts of the Eucharistic Prayer are to be employed which, being approved by legitimate Church authority, manifest very clearly and fully an ecclesial bearing. Catechetical Preparation 12. But a more accurate adaptation of the celebration to the diversity of congregations and of circumstances, °and also a fuller expression of the catechetical content, which cannot be always or conveniently effected in the Eucharistic Prayer, given its nature, will be able to be inserted in those parts and set forms of the liturgical action which lend themselves to varia-tion or require it. 13. First of all, those who prepare the celebrations or preside at them are reminded of the faculty granted in the "Institutio generalis Missalis romani,''2° whereby they can, in certain cases, choose Masses and also texts for the various parts of the Mass, such as Lessons, prayers, chants, so that they answer "as far as possible to the needs, the preparation of mind and the capacity of those taking part.''21 Nor is it to be forgotten that other documents, published since the appearance of the aforementioned "In-structio," offer further guidelines.and directions for enlivening celebrations and adapting them to pastoral needs.~ Admonitions 14. Amongst the matters which lend themselves to a fuller adaptation lSSee Vatican Council II, the constitution Lumen gentium, no. 23, AAS, v. 57 (1965), p. 27. 19st. Augustine, In loannis Evangelium Tractatus, 26, 13, CCL, v. 36, 266; and see Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 47, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 113. zo"Institutio generalis Missalis romani," nos. 314-24. Zqbid., no. 313. -°-°See Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship, the instruction Actio pastoralis, May 15 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), pp. 806-11; the instruction Memoriale Domini, May 29 1969, AAS, v. 61 (1969), pp. 541-7; and the instruction Sacramentali com-municatione, June 29 1970, AAS, v. 62 (1970)i pp. 664-7. The Eucharistic Prayers / 91~7 and are left to the individual celebrants to make use of, it is well to keep in mind the admonition, the homilies, and the universal prayers. Firstly the admonitions: by means of these the faithful are brought to a deeper understanding of the meaning of the sacred function or of some of its various parts. Of these admonitions those are of special importance which the priest himself is invited by the "Instructio generalis Missalis romani" to compose and deliver for the purpose of introducing those present to the Mass of the day before the actual celebration begins, or to the liturgy of the word before the readings, or to the Eucharistic Prayer before the Preface; and also as a conclusion of the whole sacred ceremony before the dismissal.2a T.hen again, importance is to be given to those admonitions that are laid down in the "Ordo Missae" for certain rites, which are to be introduced either before the penitential act or before the Lord's prayer. Naturally these admonitions need not be given word for word as set out in the Missal, so much so indeed that it may well be advisable, at least in certain instances, to adapt them somewhat to the actual circumstances of the particular. gathering. Nevertheless, in giving these admonitions their particular char-acter is to be preserved, so that they do not turn into sermons or homilies; and care must be taken to be brief, and verbosity, wearisome to the partic-ipants, must be avoided. Homily and Universal Prayer 15. Besides the admonitions there is the homily to be kept in mind. It is "part of the liturgy o itself''24 and is the means of explaining to the faithful there present,, in a manner suited to their cap.acity and way of life and relative to the circumstances of the celebration, the word of God that is proclaimed in the liturgical assembly. 16. Finally, considerable importance is to be attached to the Universal Prayer with which the congregation responds~ in a certain way, to the word of God already explained to them and accepted by them. To ensure its efficacy, care must be taken that the petitions offered up for various needs throughout the world should be suited to the congregation, bringing to bear in their composition that wise freedom consistent with the nature of this prayer. Style of Reading 17. Without any doubt, for the celebration to be a truly community and live happening, besides the choice of its various elements it requires that the one presiding and the others who have some particular function to perform should give thought to the various kinds of verbal communica- -~3See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 11. -~Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum Concilium, no. 52, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 114. Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 tion with the congregation, namely the Readings, the homily, the admoni-tions, the introduction, and the like.z~ In reciting the prayers, and especially theEucharistic Prayer, the priest ¯ .- must avoid on the one hand a dry style of reading without any variation of voice, and on the other hand a too subjective and emotional style of speech and action. As the one presiding over the function, he must be very careful in reading or singing to help those taking part to form a true community celebrating and living the memorial of the Lord. 18. In order to ensure a still fuller impact of the word and greater spiritual fruit, due regard must be given, as indeed many desire, to the sacred silence which is to be observed at stated times as part of the liturgical actions,-~6 in order that each one, according to temperament and the reaction of the moment, either makes some self-examination or meditates briefly on what he has just been listening to or praises God and prays to Him in his heart.27 19. In view of all the above, it may be permitted to express the earnest wish and hope that the pastors of souls, instead of introducing novelties in the way of texts and rites into the sacred functions, will rather be con-cerned to instruct the faithful with anxious care in order that these may the better understand the nature, structure, and elements of the celebration, and especially of the Eucharistic Prayer, and may participate ever more fully and more knowledgeably in the celebration itself. The power and the efficacy of the sacred liturgy does not consist merely in the newness and variety of its elements, but in a deeper communion with the mystery of salvation made actual and operative in the liturgical function. In this way alone are the faithful, in their profession of one faith and outpouring of one prayer, enabled to follow out their salvation and be in communion with their brethren. The matters contained in this Circular Letter, drawn up by this Sacred Congregation, were approved and confirmed by the Supreme Pontiff Pope Paul VI on the 18th day of April 1973 and ordered by him to be made public. From the offices of the Sacred Congregation for Divine Worship, the 27th day of April 1973. ARTHUR Card. TABERA Prefect "I" A. BUGNINI Tit. Archbp. of Diocletiana Secretary 2~See "Institutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 18. °-~See Vatican Council II, the constitution Sacrosanctum ~Concilium, no. 30, AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 108; and Sacred Congregation of Rites, the instruction Musicam sacram, March 5 1967, no. 17, AAS, v. 59 (1967), p. 305. -~rSee "lnstitutio generalis Missalis romani," no. 23. Spirituality in a.Time of Transition George M. Regan, C.M. George M. Regan, C.M., is chairman of the Department of Theology; St. John's University; Grand Central and Utopia Parkways; Jamaica, New York 11439. Pluralism has become a central fact in Church life and theology in our day. The uniformity in structures, laws, customs, and religious outlook which formerly prevailed has given way to divergence. Against this pluralistic background, it becomes impossible to claim one monolithic conception of spirituality for religious today. Religious communities differ enormously from one another, and individual religious sometimes agree to disagree in matters concerning spirituality. Tension between Two Understandings Some entire communities and many individual religious follow the same routine and understanding inherited from former generations. A highly structured order of day with set times for prayer, common meditation books, reading in the dining hall, and frequent communal exercises still prevail in some communities. This approach to spirituality generally assigns great prominence to the virtue of obedience to the Rule and to various authorities as the focal point of one's spiritual life. On the other hand, some communities and many religious, particularly younger persons, have adopted a more fluid and personalistic approach to spirituality which emphasizes personal responsibility and underlying values, rather than stressing so much obedience to set regulations. The introduction of shared responsibility among the meml:~ers tempers greatly the traditional understanding of obedience. A widespread dissatisfaction with such prayer forms as litanies, novenas, the rosary, and stations of the cross, together 989 990 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 with a questioning of the underlying rationale for these forms characterize many religious. Tension between these two general understandings often exists in the same province, the same local house, and even in the same person, who may vacillate, one day wanting the freedom of personal responsibility, another day desirous of some common regulations regarding spirituality. Frequently, one encounters religious whose general chapters moved the community officially toward a spirituality which stresses personal responsibility and the members are experiencing the pains of transition to the actual practice of spiritual values, once the supports and structures of a lifetime were removed. Though consolidation and lessening of polarization can be noted in some religious communities, individual religious find this transitional period a painful experience. The task of appropriating personally Christian values can be quite trying and the price paid may be confusion, drifting, and out-right failure. Young and old, liberal and conservative, share these difficulties. This article will concern itself mostly with religious who find themselves in this trying situation of transition to new meanings. Mutual understanding among re!igious may help tide them over to some degree during this transi-tional stage. Ministry to religious will also require sensitivity, compassion, and an appreciation of the practical implications involved in the shift from an obedience-centered spirituality to a more personalistic view of the spiritual life. In particular, we shall present some main features of a contemporary theology of spirituality and apply this to religious life. By way of introduction, however, a brief review of the former, obedience-centered spirituality may serve to locate and focus more sharply our main consi~derations. The Obedience-centered Approach The traditional stress in religious life on the Rule, authority, and the virtue of obedience bears similarity t~o the law-centered approach to moral theology which prevailed until relatively recently. This mo,rality or way of life for the Christian, as presented in the moral manuals in use until the mid-1960s, assigned prominence to law and to self-perfection through the acquiring of virtue. Obedience to law in all exactness came through in trad.itional moral theology as the center of the Christian moral life. An impression was conveyed of certainty and security. Individual acts of a person received far more emphasis than did the overall life stance or attitude which a believer gradually assu~es before God and the neighbor. "Live within the confines of the law" seemed the main moral task. This mentality became influential within many religious communities in their approach to spirituality. A candidate would be encouraged during formation to give onself to Christ, to give up one's will, to make a holocaust of oneselL One's will, mind, possessions, sexual love, and personal .prefer-ences would be given over to God. The role of authority, the Rule, and Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 991 obedience would be emphasized. To do as one is told, to place oneself as an awl in the hands of the carpenter would be familiar emphases in formation programs. The individual would not ordinarily be urged to plan, suggest, modify, or advise. The most docile and obedient candidate would be considered .the best and "growing in holiness." Sacrifice of one's will to the will of legitimate authority, in particular, occupied a prominent position in this traditional spirituality. "The less "of me in obedience, the more of Christ" has a familiar ring. Spirituality and life style fit a highly regulated pattern in this approach. The stress on communal goals led to a broad uniformity reaching into utmost details of ~religious life. A personal goal of self-fulfillment or indi-viduality would often be considered pride. A person would not usually be encouraged to express emotions, to develop individual personality, or to value creative expressiveness. Talents and interests would often be chan-neled solely for common purposes in many communities, so that, for example, the religious would not be consulted about even one's future apostolate. A rigid common order of day and uniform control of m~tters such as. coming and going, or habit, all fitted into~ this controlled life style. Spirituality was marked by an abundance of spiritual exercises, which constituted one's principal prayers, many of them said in common. Most communities required daily meditation, Mass, various examinations of conscience, morning and evening prayers, some part of the Office and various special devotions, such as the rosary, novenas, stations of the cross, reading of Sacred Scripture, the Imitation of Christ, the Rule, and spiritual books. Penance such as fast and abstinence, abstention from tobacco and alcohol, and the public declaration of faults in chapter were found in all communities. Fidelity to long hours of work, whatever be one's assignment, and a general separation from people likewise characterized this approach to re-ligious life. Detailed norms governing visits to or from relatives, mixing with the laity and other "externs," and the vows were commonplace. The interpretation of the vow of poverty left little room for individual choice by religious, for the person ~was expected to get permission in many com-munities for any money spent or received. In religious communities of women, the vow of chastity provided the occasion for many protections established to safeguard the members: clothing, a companion system, severe restriction in reading, television, attendance at movies and shows, and contacts with men were all areas surrounded with protections. Obedi-ence meant basically a willingness to be submissive and to put one's judg-ment into the hands of superiors. This total control by superiors involved little consultation, and self-w, ill oi personal preferences were downgraded. The superiors' decisions were viewed oftentimes as final and unquestioned. This obedience-centered approach to religious life implied that Christian spirituality should center on ~unSwerving fidelity to all the details regulated 99:2 / Review [or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 by the Rule and authority. Understandably, obedience became the center of one's life. This approach to spirituality, moreover, tended to view the life of grace as a supernaturalizing of nature which involved a suspicion of or actual opposition to the "merely natural." Emotions and sexuality, for example, might never seem quite Christian or supernatural in this perspec-tive. To castigate this approach to spirituality is not at all the purpose of this brief summary. Many religious obviously grew closer to God and the neighbor in their absolute fidelity to this viewpoint. Large numbers of religious functioning today have this as their general background and many have grown into new ways without immense problems. Appreciation of this traditional approach to religious life and spirituality will hopefully assist other religious unfamiliar with it and also aid those who minister to religious. This holds especially true for those religous who are attempting to adopt another approach to spirituality. Personal Response to Inner Value Many religious communities, local houses, and individual religious have moved away from this obedience-centered approach to spirituality, to an approach which emphasizes personal response to inner value. Religious who operate within this new framework experience immense changes: the former uniformity has given way to greater emphasis on personal respon- " sibility and individuality; spii'itual exercises have usually diminished in number, the kinds of common prayers have changed, and the underlying value of prayer has been stressed; choice of residence, companions, and apostolate in a self-selection process has often emerged; the vows remain, but the tight regulations interpreting them have been removed or signif-icantly altered. In this approach to religious life, a person is viewed as entering a community to develop oneself fully in the service of Christ and the neighbor, to put one's full talents at the disposal of people, and to take part in and share responsibility for the Church and for the community itself. Their most basic commitment will come into greater prominence: to enter into the death and resurrection of Jesus, leading to perfect charity toward God and the neighbor. Rather than obedience, selfless charity becomes the primary Christian virtue, in accordance with Jesus' teaching. Life itself is seen as a response to God and the neighbor in love: "How can I respond to real needs as I see them? How can I actively cooperate in community life, by advising, suggesting, and modifying?" Such questions come more readily to mind and new candidates will be encouraged in these attitudes. Personal development of healthy human qualities occupies a more central position in this outlook: "The more a person grows and reaches a balanced maturity, the more the roots of Christ's life will be strengthened." Acceptance of the authentically human implied in such a principle leads to Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 993 urging upon religious today utilization of their native talents, creative ex-pression, and a heightened personal initiative. Whatever dehumanizes the individual religious or other persons served in the apostolate, by overlook-ing their mind, heart, emotions, talents and the like, is thus viewed as un-christian. The human person in all his richness emerges in this viewpoint, therefore, as an absolute value in himself, to be safeguarded and promoted. This framework allows more emphasis on the personal response of the individual religious to inner values, both human and Christian. Decentraliza-tion, coresponsibility, and subsidiarity become the new hallmarks of obedience, for the realities underlying these terms shift the focus from .institutions to the local level and the individual religious. Each province, each house, and indeed each sister, priest, or brother is seen as making a unique contribution to the ongoing task of discerning the movement of the Holy Spirit in the group and in oneself. Spirituality itself thus becomes a more personal affair of responding according to one's convictions to human and Christian values grasped through one's own appreciation. The former stress on a host of spiritual exercises performed communally gives ¯ way to fewer common prayer gatherings, but with a concurrent stress on the individual's need to pray and to join at times with one's companions in prayer. In matters of life style, such as religious garb, types of work, freedom to come and go, and close association with non-community persons, the individual's religious commitment is not viewed as precluding choices similar to those of the Christian laity. This brief overview of the traditional approach to religious life and contemporary tendencies has the danger of caricaturing both viewpoints. This presentation has attempted, nevertheless, to recall the predominant flavor of each approach, while realizing the nuancing and variations embodied in religious communities. We shall now turn our attention to some questions associated with this immense shift from an obedience-centered spirituality to the value-centered spirituality of personal responsibility. Stressing Values Today Religious grew accustomed to viewing life as "doing what I'm told." Withthe growing reliance on person responsibility and on one's own con-science, rather than on the Rule and superiors, some religious today drift aimlessly. Formerly, they were trained to look for virtue and sin in indi-vidual acts, especially when the Rule, customs of the community, or the will of the superior would be at stake. Abandonment of this law-centered-ness in their community may leave them wondering what spirituality now implies for them. They may understandably fail to grasp that the basic failure to clarify personally accepted values in such matters as prayer, poverty, chastity, and coresponsibility all entail immense accountability. Likewise, the challenge to assume responsibility for one's life, to respond to the needs of people by taking initiative and risk, to prepare for one's 994 / Review for Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 apostolate, to continue one's education by personal study, and to serve others selflessly is the vast field of human and Christian values which con-stitute spirituality for them. Religious may, therefore, lack the clearcut criteria of the past; but their personal sense of God's calling and of conscientious Christian response will surely point out areas of concern and of neglect to grow, whether they be prayer, concern for the neighbor, or personal growth in ensuring healthy psychological development. How one strives to pray, to serve others, to manifest responsibility in the apostolate, to be poor, chaste, and a contrib-uting member of the community all take on more connotations for a Chris-tian which cannot be carefully and casuistically delineated in the manner of past moral theology and religious spirituality. They nonetheless embody the task of spirituality for religious today. The individual religious and those who minister to religious have a joint responsibility to reflect on the entirety of Gospel values and to apply them in their lives today; to chal-lenge religious when neglect of these values has however subtly crept in; to assist the person in facing himself or herself and in deepening con-victions about Christian values. The Christian calling for religious today, then, is to center their lives on taking more seriously gospel values and to live within the overall frame-work proper to any Christian, as applied in their concrete circumstances. In the past decade, significant progress has occurred in moral theology in reformulating and expressing the way of life revealed in Jesus. These developments hold good promise for our appreciation of Christian spiritu-ality. The following brief presentation of some main lines of these develop-ments will have a direct bearing on the question of a spirituality relevant for religious today: The Framework of Christian Life A personalist approach to theology may be discerned in contemporary literature. This holds true for moral theology in a spec.ial fashion where many authors now present the Christian life centered on the theme of God's call and man's response. This contrasts considerably with the more abstractionist and law-centered approach of former times. The Trinitarian framework of the way of life preached by Jesus provides an overall structure of God approaching man and offering Himself to him: "We shall come to him and make our abode with him." Passages of Sacred Scripture where Jesus promises to send the Spirit and to live among us, or where He pictures God as a Father close to His sons, offer an image of God and man in intimate relationship. Each person is approached by a loving and con-cerned God and .challenged to respond personally to Him. This "call-response" morality and spirituality replace the former stress on law and selfrperfection, in the basic meaning of grace, God's self-gift, God gives Himself to man and acts in him, enabling him to respond. Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 995 .~ New Testament teaching indicates the chief manifestation of this love of God to be the way in which we love our neighbor. The one virtue of charity directed toward God and man holds a primacy over all other virtues, including obedience. The law-centered approach of older moral theology has thus given way to a love-centered approach, viewed as more faithful to Jesus' teaching. No impersonal law governs the Christian; rather life may be seen in its entirety as a response to a personal and loving God. "Falling in love" with God expresses the main task of Christian conversion to the Lord which Jesus preached. A morality of relationship conceived along theseolines thus sees each person in dialogue with God and meeting God in the~ events, people, and prayer experiences of daily living. Within this personalist framework of loving response to God's invitation, the central role of Jesus in Christian living has become a major theme. Jesus presents Himself as our way, truth, and life, and other New Testament writers see our union with Jesus as a basic fact of the Christian way of life. This conception of Jesus' relationship with the Christian believer ranges far beyond viewing Him as an external model or pattern to be imitated or mimicked~ God has approached man and .continues to invite man in Jesus His Son who in a humanity like ours responded selflessly. United in Him, we have received the capacity to respond selflessly too. As sons in the Son of God, we become immersed ~in His destiny and receive a personal invitation to enter into~intimate relationship with Him. Any spirituality which merits the name Christian must, therefore, see this personal relationship with Jesus as the focal point~°or core element. The individual religious and those charged with direction should, then, confront 'this fundamental Christian vision in a constant way. Such confrontation at this deep level of Christian life moves well past lesser issues to the core of religious life: the task of answering the call to "Come, follow me." A Continuing Process Man's response to God's personal call is seen as a continuing process, not simply as a series of individual acts. Contemporary theologians em-phasize greatly the life direction, or orientation'which a person gradually assumes ,toward God, manifested in his love of the neighbor. This basic choice, or fundamental option, as it has been termed, grows throughout one's life into a commitment in faith and love which, underlies all individual acts and does not easily waver or disappear. The exceptional concern with individual acts familiar to all who formerly studied moral theology has thus lessened, if not vanished entirely, in present-day moral theology. Rather than becoming excessively concerned with individual choices alone, the believer is urged to see the Holy Spirit guiding him from within as his primary law; The Christian should, in the mind of St. Paul, deepen this lifegrowth through increasing personal response to the Spirit and become further removed from the "law of sin and death," from which Jesus set 996 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 us free. For religious working within this perspective, the Spirit Himself would be viewed as one's guidance. All other norms or regulations can occupy only a secondary and peripheral place in the Christian life for the faithful Christian. Religious life can never imply the abandonment of this glorious heritage of Christians: their freedom as God's children to follow the Spirit which moves them to discern the task of love. Viewed in this broad perspective, Christian life and spirituality are a continuous conversion to God through one's free and full disposal of him-self. This occurs at a profound level of the human person and becomes manifested in acts which may reveal, though they sometimes hide, his actual inner state. In contrast with traditional ascetical theology, which gave some prominence to the three ways of the spiritual life, a contemporary treat-ment of Christian living would stress this Biblical notion of gradual, yet continuing conversion to God and the neighbor, which avoids the artificial-ity of the division of the spiritual life into the purgative, illuminative, and unitive ways. The openendedness of conversion to a lifetime of development, moreover, cuts against merely "getting by" in a minimalistic interpretation of Christian life and also allows more of a positive emphasis. Humanism, the World, and Life-giving Moral and ascetical theology often mentioned a division between natural and supernatural virtues, motives, or elements in man. Whatever seemed merely "natural" took on a rather base meaning for the believer swept into the Christian life of perfection. Unfortunately, this two-storyed approach to~ the question of the relationship between nature and grace can lend the wrong connotation that natural human features such as emo-tions, sexuality, humor, a vibrant personality, and a keen sense of joy do not have much place in a "supernatural" universe. This happened in many a religious formation program. Repression of feelings, human qualities, and one's individual characteristics follow too readily in this atmosphere. A packaged and stereotyped religious may emerge as an ideal. Spiritual direction and personal reflection of religious today must cope realistically with the unhealthy consequences of these false understandings which contemporary theology has abandoned. Christian spirituality should instead acknowledge the goodness of all that is human: emotions, sexuality, temperament, personality, and the like should enter into the Christian response of the whole person. Development and fulfillment of these truly human aspects of the person should be incorporated into any authentic approach to Christian spirituality. An inescapable element in contemporary theology has been a growing concern with the here-and-now, with real people living in the present world. Secularization theology made that' emphasis predominant: Despite the enormous stress today on the virtue of hope and the image of God calling us from and toward Our future, theology sees this challenge of the Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 997 future kingdom as urging us even now to concern ourselves with man in his present-day strivings and problems. Building the kingdom of justice, peace, harmony, and love should not simply be relegated to the afterlife. A Christian spirituality directed beyond this world would, then, neglect this essential element. That God may be found at the deepest point of the human and that other persons, events, and nature itself reveal God to the believer's .eye are the sorts of emphases common in contemporary literature which apply directly to an updated spirituality for religious. How might religious serve the world in profound love? How might they enter into dynamic relationship with people .and not be unduly separated from them? Christian discernment must focus on such central questions. The prevailing mood of today's theology, finally, seems far more optimistic, joyful, and hopeful than did traditional moral and ascetical theology. This may result from the importance assigned to the Resurrection in today's literature. Some years ago, more emphasis was placed on the Passion and Death of Jesus, and in a way which sometimes failed to take sufficient account of his victory over suffering and death. This distorted theology of the cross led inevitably to a glorification of suffering, pain, or deprivation in an unchristian and masochistic way. Dread, anxiety, negativ-ism, or pessimism runs counter to the life-filled Spirit which animates and invigorates the believer. Celebration of the forces of life and love is a more authentic Christian disposition. The search for life-giving, rather than death-dealing forces should be a prime sign of Christian humanism. A joyless Christian spirituality will, therefore, hopefully find fewer adherents today than might formerly have been the case. That suffering and a certain death will precede life and resurrection, as they did for Jesus, appears of course in today's theology. This aspect of Christian life and spirituality does not, however, receive as much prominence as formerly and it is placed into the broader perspective of the entire Paschal mystery. Religious might well aim at assuming more of this joyful,, hopeful, and optimistic tone into their spirituality, which should rest ultimately on their trust and confidence in God's power. Results of These Emphases These comments clearly do not lead to a detailed and specific spirituality which brings into the forefront a set of uniform practices. Pluralism in forms of spirituality, then, would be taken for granted within this broad Christian framework. Regulations, spiritual exercises, and rigid conformity recede to the background. A spirituality based on a personal response to God in Christ, through the action of the Holy Spirit, replaces a spirituality founded on a morality of law arid of individual acts. The stress on avoidance of sin, on obligation, and on negativism which characterized some former writings will appear unusual, if not unchristian, to a person versed in these recent approaches. Is life becoming a YES to God? Is the person choosing 998 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 more and more to reach out to God and to others selflessly, after the pattern of God's own Son? Is the person gradually gaining the sense of giving himself over to the action of the Holy Spirit from within, relying on His guidance in a spirit of freedom and joy? The concerns evidenced in these sorts of questions become more central in the person's spirituality. Because Christian holiness implies personal response to a loving God, leading to genuine friendship with Him, it rules out a merely instinctual approach to religious of Christian life. Blind and irrational impulse does not equal religious fervor. Fetishes, superstitions, empty traditions, and formalistic ritualism, without inner meaning, have no place in a human or Christian way of life. Authentic tradition and ritual will buttress Christian convictions and express them in continuity with the past Christian com-munity. Sheer compulsive activity without an inner giving of oneself to God in personal union with Him as a friend to a friend, on the other hand, duplicates the empty observances of the Pharisees condemned by Jesus. Holiness can never be viewed as measured by a proliferation of regulations or observances. A legalistic approach to "following the Rule," without a sufficient inner sense of responding to God and the neighbor as the main animating criterion of a believer's life, deserves to die its death. Even one's approach to such laudatory practices as confession of one's sins, the rosary, the Divine Office, and Eucharist, must avoid an attitude of "just fulfilling my obligation." Unless such prayers spring from genuine interior disposi-tions, they fail to be authentic religious acts. The Goal and the Means Implicit in the foregoing, but deserving special mention, is the oft-repeated, but as frequently forgotten, distinction between the goal of spirituality and the means to attain it. Spiritual exercises, however devo-tional and fervent, do not of themselves constitute one's life of loving union with God and the neighbor, toward which all genuine spirituality leads. All prayers, orders of day, and other structures and forms, have a relative, not an absolute value as contributing hopefully to the deepening of this relationship with the Triune God. Spiritual direction and religious life itself, therefore, should allow room for individual differences in fostering the goals of spirituality and they should not unduly absolutize spiritual exercises by making them, in effect, goals unto themselves. A spirituality based on personal responsibility leads more often than not, it seems, to a lessening of communal prayers. IneVitably, this creates tensions between individual and communal° needs in the matter of prayer. This problem is not easily resolved, and pluralism and polarization emerge forcefully in this context. The desire for smaller group living in like-minded communities sometimes stems from this factor alone. Dialogue, sensitivity to one another, and a genuine desire for a Christian prayer community will go a long way in calming the waters. Experience indicates, however, that Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 999 the broader issue of unity in diversity within religious communities comes to bear on this point. Universal solutions have not been discovered to cope with this problem. Certainly, charity, an ability to compromise, and unify-ing leadership are indispensable qualities in such situations. Without their presence, the praying community inevitably dissolves into factions. The spirituality outlined previously will also, as has been briefly men-tioned, have important consequences for the overall tone or mood which religious adopt in their lives. Religious have a meaning in the Church as an intense cell of vibrant Christian life. They are constantly seen in Church documents and in their own self-understandings in constitutions as signs of God's love working among men and of His grace operating in the hearts of all people. When documents state that religious witness to heavenly values, this implies that religious should show by their lives what faith in God can mean: hope, confidence, optimism in ultimate destinies; faith and charity in everyday concerns. Religious should be encouraged to develop these qualities and not to repress or bury their emotional aliveness. In moving away from an excessively obedience-centered approach, religious should thus replace it with a Christian life and spirituality centered on faith, love, hope in God and in ultimate realities, manifested in their love and service to mankind. These constitute the primary gospel values. More emphasis on these values, rather than on the more peripheral elements of religious life, should characterize a renewed religious life and spirituality. Prayer or Prayers Our remarks on spiritual exercises as a means to the goal of union in prayer have not addressed real issues which arise and merit special con-sideratioia. Mandated spiritu~l exercises have indeed disappeared almost entirely in some communities and lessened in number in nearly all. Even Eucharistic participation may occur on a private basis in many religious houses and communal prayer may occur only a few times weekly or perhaps less. These changes in regulations concerning prayers do not answer com-pletely a religious' concern for growth in prayer life, beyond any minimum set down by legal regulations or common agreement. The fact that daily Office in common or in private, common meditation, and spiritual reading are no longer enjoined by Rule, for example, does not settle the question for the individual religious. It may well be that the Spirit is moving the person to an exceptionally developed prayer life. An unexceptionable Christian challenge and calling is that of praying in, through, and with Jesus: How is this religious man or woman facing into this challenge? By escape and saying that practically all prayer forms are irrelevant? That spiritual reading, even of Sacred Scripture, fails to attract? That meditation in common is not necessary and yet, without the support of other praying Christians, I rarely pray reflectively at all? That daily Eucharist is not a necessity, so.I go once or twice weekly? A religious 1000 / Review 1or Religious, Volume 32, 1973/5 can argue any of these points or patterns of behavior and rightly claim that none of them is intrinsically necessary for a Christian life. This might well be the case in abstract terms. In the concrete, however, patterns of neglect in prayer and failure to grow vibrantly in the Christian life as a dedicated religious tie together more frequently than by sheer chance. That the person prays little can be the overall impression. Beyond one's protestations about personal prayerfulness in general, the individual religious and those who assist religious might inquire about the person's actual formal prayer, about those times when the religious places himself in God's presence and speaks, however non-verbally, or simply holds himself open to the Spirit's action. "My work is my prayer," in particular, seems a peculiarly sure way of not praying genuinely in the long run in a deep and constant fashion, if this laudable attitude is not accompanied by some periods of personal reflective prayer and communal sharing of prayerfulness in a limited way at least. Omission of specific prayers does not of itself constitute the reality termed mortal sin, in light of present-day understandings of the fundamental option theory. One would, in fact, be hard put to pin any label of sin on any given lack of praying some spiritual exercises. Yet the individual religious should ask himself constantly about his personal prayer life beyond any legal require-ments and explain to himself just how his life of prayer fits within his overall commitment to grow ever more deeply into the life pattern of the crucified and risen Lord, in contact with His Father and in service unreservedly of His brothers. Religious Consecration by Vow The suggested framework of Christian spirituality based on personal responsibility implies too that all considerations about the vows must touch on the value underlying each vow. The religious Rule' which formerly enshrined the value intended by the vow has usually changed these days beyond recognition. Poverty permissions have all but disappeared from many communities; religious may receive a monthly stipend and be com-pletely responsible for their own financing, especially in small group living. The tight restrictions surrounding and protecting chastity have changed: clothing, hairstyling and covering, use of cosmetics, freedom to associate and to form friendships with the other sex have much novelty about them. Coordinators in place of local superiors or local coresponsibility without any such individual authority have diffused the sense of obedience for many religious. The basic value underlying each vow must, therefore, be stressed in this changed atmosphere. Theologically, the vows relate to the religious' fundamental Christian calling and consecration in baptism, whereby the person enters into the mystery of Christ's death and rising to new life. Each evangelical vow furthers this initial commitment to growth in Christ. Spirituality in a Time o] Transition / 1001 The most basic value, then, will tie in with Christ-centeredness: that each vow should promote one's relationship with Christ. The vows will never be understood as implying hatred of the goods of this world, or of sexual intimacy, or of personal responsibility and freedom. Instead, poverty implies a liberating of energy, attention, and time from concentration on material welfare to imitate and become united to the poor Christ in His radical dependence on the Father. The value of chastity will not be just for ease or efficiency in the apostolate, or for avoidance of sexual arousal and union with another person. Rather, chastity as God's gift frees a person to give oneself over to God in love completely and to open oneself to all people, without centering one's love on one person sexually. The value accepted in obedience, finally, will be a basic sense of openness to the Spirit of Jesus, working where He will and particularly through the community. Religious consecration by vow thus implies a renunciation of self-fulfill-ment by material goods, sexual and loving involvement and union with one person, and fully autonomous behavior free of communal concerns. The person chooses to live his Christian response to God's call in more radical dependence on Him and in reaching for and living in the future, while enjoying the present. Only a constant striving for a deeper relation-ship and union with the Son in the death-life cycle of His self-emptying love can make possible this Christian vision. Religious have freely chosen these profound values which remain despite the removal of legal require-ments about the vows. Faithful to his religious calling, each religious must heed the call God addresses to him to live these values. Conclusion For all Christians and therefore for all religious, the challenge of Chris-tian spirituality entails responding personally in an open-ended fashion to God, avoiding satisfaction with the minimalism of merely "getting by," seeing life as love-centered, not sin-centered or law-centered, and establish-ing a personal relationship with Jesus by faithfulness to His Spirit at work in our hearts. Religi.ous men and women who live this kind of spirituality .certainly adopt an idealism which surpasses the ordinary. Yet this idealism embodies the rich heritage of the freeing message of the Good News: that through the liberating action of the Spirit of Jesus all His followers are enabled and urged to cry out Father and to spend themselves selflessly for others, in the image of Jesus. Now My Eye Sees Thee: The Bible as a Record of Religious Experience C. M. Cherian, S.J. Father Cherian, a professor of Sacred Scripture, lives at Vidya Jyoti; Delhi 6, India. This article first appeared in Clergy Monthly, March 1973, pages 90-100. It is re-printed here with the kind permission of the editor of Clergy Monthly. It is well known that, in pre-Vatican II scholastic theology, the reality of faith was conceived of as an intellectual assent to religious truths rather than a personal commitment to God in Jesus Christ. This conception is reflected in the description of faith given by the First Vatican Council. Faith is "a supernatural virtue by which we believe, with the inspiration and help of God's grace, that what He has revealed is true." Attention is directed to the particular truths that God has revealed, to the intellectual acceptance of these truths, not to God Himself or personal submission to Him who is Truth. And there is some emphasis on the obscurity and weakness of the perception involved. We believe "not be-cause we perceive the intrinsic truth of the things revealed, but because of the authority of God Himself who revealed them, and who can neither be deceived nor deceive." The impression created is that of some second-hand borrowed knowledge whose acceptance is "commanded" by our grace-supported will. Dangers of This Approach In such an approach there is the danger that faith-life may be thought of as being essentially and largely an intellect-and-will affair which does not necessarily involve a person in the experience of a direct relationship with God and of a new life in Him. The obscuring of the personalist aspect of faith in the minds of theologians and pastors had consequences for the religious instruction of the faithful. They were not sufficiently helped to The Bible and Religious Experience / 1003 understand their grace-life in personalistic and existential terms. The legacy of this old approach is still evident in the lives of the faithful, especially the more educated among them. They fight shy of a personal approach to God, and are incapable or distrustful of spontaneous personal prayer and of active involvement and sharing in common worship. Recently a group of educated Catholic young lay men and women, who were taking a course on the Psalms, told the present writer that several of them had serious difficulty about accepting personally the reality of God as Creator, Savior and Judge. The furthest they could go was to accept the message of Christ and give an intellectual assent to the Catholic doctrine about God. They frankly confessed that they had no personal experience of God. Still St. John says that what Christ, the Son of God, has done is to make the Father known (Jn 1:18). The grace of Christ consists in our receiving the adoption of sons and being enabled to say "Abba,.Father" to God (Gal 4:4). Neglect ot Personal Religious Experience A byproduct of the intellectual approach to the Christian faith was the almost complete neglect of the whole area of personal religious experience. Historically Catholics in the West could not agree with certain schools and theories of religious experience which represented an aberration from the truth, so far as they questioned either the validity of human reason or the certainty of objective Christian revelation. But this does not mean that anybody could repudiate the right kind of religious experience which is manifested and communicated everywhere in the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures themselves, and in the Scriptures of other religions. The Scrip-tures are obviously the God-given guide to genuine religious experience, and, so far as they are inspired, they are God's instrument for the com-munication of the right kind of religious experience. The Workshop Handbook (Vol. I), published by the "All-India Seminar on the Church in India Today," contains some valuable insights into the question we are examining here. The Report of the Workshop on Spirituality points out that Christianity is essentially the handing down o[ the experience that Jesus Christ, the perfect Man, had o] God the Father and His love and plan. He communicated this experience to the Apostles. In them it took the form of a total personal commitment to God in Jesus Christ, the risen Lord, and a sensitivity to the leading and guidance of the Holy Spirit. All the external means and practices of the Church are directed towards enabling the faithful to personally appropriate the inner living experience of the risen Lord, which implies a total conversion. It is the personal religious experience of the prophets, Apostlesl and other holy men that was expressed in the words of the Scriptures and in liturgical and other formulas and in ritual actions. A fundamental pastoral problem consists in making 1004 / Review for Religious, l/'olume 32, 1973/5 sure that, while we are busily engaged in passing on the rites and the formulas, we also succeed in transmitting the inner personal experience that they are meant to express, the experience that can be summed up in such words as: "We have seen the Lord" (Jn 20:25; see 1:14) or "My Lord and my God" (Jn 20:28) or "Lord, You know that I love You" (Jn 21:17). Old Testament Data The Scriptures make it clear throughout that men are called to a life of personal intimacy with God. The Genesis story says that man is made in the image of God. This means that men are capable of personal com-munion with God and of being transformed info God's likeness, the likeness of His Son. It is sin that makes Adam want to hide himself from God. The work of redemption consists, therefore, in saving the lost and restoring them to that closeness to God for which they were created. Abraham and Jacob God appears to Abraham with the message: "1 am God Almighty; walk before Me and be blameless. I will make My covenant between Me and you . . .'" (Gen 17). Biblical religion consists essentially in this I-thou relationship, in men learning to conduct themselves in the presence of God. This is the secret of their holiness. It must mean that man stands in awe of the God of heaven and earth, is never deaf to His voice, is never unaware of the demands of His love and plan, and is never deliberately unfaithful to these demands. In Genesis 28 we see that Jacob's ambition and over-cleverness have landed him in deep trouble. He is obliged to flee Palestine to escape from his brother's wrath. He is terribly lonely and desolate. God's grace is .a.t work in this man-made crisis. God uses it in order to quicken Jacob's notional faith into a deeply personal faith. He has an experience of God being present, and addressing him, and renewing the promises made to his fathers, so that he exclaims: "Surely the Lord is in this place, and I did not know it" (Gen 28: 16). This statement is meant to express what is typical of man's condition. In the narratives about the appearances of the risen Lord to His disciples, we are repeatedly told that He was with them on various occasions, but at first they did not recognize Him (see Lk 24:16; Jn 20: 14; 21:4). The maturity of our faith consists in our becoming aware that the Lord cannot be absent, that He is savingly active here and now, and wants us to respond to Him. Moses and Elijah Moses has the task of leading and guiding God's people in the wilder-ness of Sinai. He is convinced that nothing but personal intimacy and familiarity with the Lord and constant consultation with Him can enable The Bible and Religious Experience / 1005 him to fulfil his arduous mission. Consequently his prayer is: "I pray You, if I have found favor in Your sight, show me now Your ways~ that I may know You . . . I pray You, show me Your glory . . ." (Exod 33). The Lord granted this prayer, and thus Moses was empowered to act as the leader of God's people: "The Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his friend" (ibid.; see Num 12:8). Prophet Elijah had worked wonders in God's service. He brought about the utter defeat of the false priests of Baal, and the triumph of God's cause against idolatry. But he suddently becomes a prey to such serious depression as makes him want to die; he finds that God's cause is not making enough headway among the people as a whole, and his own life is in danger. In this crisis he is inspired to retire into the desert of Sinai. Here he has the exhilarating experience of an encounter with God. Through it he now understands what the tumultuous happenings of his prophetic ministry could not teach him. He hears the "still small voice" of God consoling him and reassuring him. He is so thoroughly renewed and strengthened by this experience of quiet communion with God that he is now fully ready for the new adventurous mission that God entrusts to him (1 Kgs 18-19). Job and Isaiah Job has been thrown completely off his balance by the series of disasters he suffered. He becomes "a fault-finder contending with the Almighty." He is full of complaints against God and His government of the world. He is ready to put God in the wrong that he himself might be justified. But finally he is completely transformed through having learned humbly to listen to God, and he receives enlightenment: "I have uttered what I did not under-stand . . . I had heard of You by the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You. therefore I despise myself and repent in dust and ashes" (Job 42). Job's conventional ideas about God and His providence have been changed into a personal experience of His mystery by which Job under-stands that "God cannot be called to account, and that His wisdom may give an .unsuspected meaning to such realities as suffering and death" (Jerusalem Bible, note). In the Jerusalem Temple Isaiah has an unexpected extraordinary experience of the all-holy God being present in all His glory. Th

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

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

Issue 68.4 of the Review for Religious, 2009. ; Theology and Life Religion; Life Models ,Exemplars of Faith Sharing ,Experience QUARTERLY 68.4 2009 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©200~ Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Ca~hohc ~pirituah~y eview for religious Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe TracT Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho sJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 68.4 2009 contents prisms 340 Prisms 342 353 theology and life Christian Existence and Theology's Relevance Randall S. Rosenberg sketches how the theologian Hans Urs von Balthasar challenges us to ask whether theology is not simply about understanding, but about an understand-ing that includes aesthetic-dramatic encounters. How You Eat Matters A. Paul Dominic SJ draws the implications from sacrifice, meals, and human eating in the Hindu, Jewish, and Christian traditions that all human eating is truly meant to be a religious act. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 364 379 religious life models Opening a New Window: Fifteen Years after the FORUS Study Patricia Wittberg SC proposes that current religious , congregations consider encouraging social-movement organizations (SMOs) as viable versions for future religious life. Revisiting Religious Identity William P. Clark OMI carefully reflects on how Vatican I! presented religious life and brought a freshness once again to the special vocation offered by God to those consecrated by religious profession. " Questions for Personal and Group Reflection Review for Religious 389 exemplars of faith ~ Encounters Early and Late: John Bosco and Paul Leo J. Heriot SDB draws upon the experience of St. Paul and of St. John Bosco to show how God may communicate with us, telling us to find him in our contemplative awareness of others and ourselves. 395 On Hilda of Whitby Sister Hilda Kleiman OSB reflects on the origins and spirituality behind her new religious name, Hilda, which means "Battle Maiden." 4O4 411 sharing experience ~ World Youth Day and Religious Life William Prospero SJ describes how World Youth Day promotes consecrated vocations by providing young Catholics with a joyful experience of living the evangelical counsels. Marriage and Celibacy: Rivals or Complements? Benny Phang OCarm works from an insight from John Paul lI's Theology of the Body to see the complementarity of the vocations of marriage and celibacy rather than viewing them as rivals. 427 432 443 departments ~ ,~ ~ Scripture Scope: Praying the Psalms with an Elephant in the Room Book Reviews 2009 Index 339 68.4 2009 prisms I n early January 2009, I was told that I had less than a year to live. As I come to write these reflections in our final issue of the year 2009, I share various reac-tions that have been part of the landscape over the past months. My first response to the doctor's prognosis ff)r pancreatic cancer was that it is a gift to be told that one has so many months to live and that an end is in sight. The doctor, of course, went on to give options. I could have an operation, and it would likely add some months. I could also have the operation, followed by chemotherapy/radia-tion, and it would add some months and likely some years. The doctor wanted to give me some time to think about the options, but I immedi-ately agreed with his own stated preference that I would undergo the operation and follow up chemotherapy. It seemed that medically I was in a place where I should follow the biblical injunc-tion, "choose life." The operation seemed to be successful in removing the visible cancer, and the six-month- long chemotherapy treatment has been an experimental study program including a vaccine that eliminates radiation. I have fin-ished the program as of the publication of this issue. Now I live within a wait-and-see time of measurement and ~esting. Revie~v for Religious November remains a church time to remember the dead and remind ourselves of our own mortality. I have been feeling even more attuned to the reality of my own personal dying throughout these past months so that it is easy to celebrate November liturgy. It is nice to be put "on notice"--which is how I consider the identi-fication of my cancer. The likelihood of dying is just made more real and, as it were, within reach. It allows me time to reflect and pray how I face this kind of time, what attitude I want to take, and how I want to use the time I have. It does not seem fearsome or dark. In fact, it seems full of surprises of how God wants to meet me in unexpected ways, sometimes not initially pleasing to me. I seem to be taught a lot about powerlessness, patience, and the goodness of strangers. I also believe strongly in the efficaciousness of the prayer support of others. Advent is a church time of looking forward to new life and especially of our life forever with God. It con-eludes with Christmas, a celebration of how God, in Christ, enters into our human life, never to let it go. Throughout 2009 with all its medical focus, I have con-tinued to be blessed with finding new life and I again look forward to entering into Advent with greater ¯ appreciation. Christmas will be God's own gift to me of celebrating the gift of human life for however many more months and years God intends. With celebrating Christmas, it is good to remember that we were all born to be living a life forever with God, and that remains my hope too. David L. Fleming SJ 341 The Review for Religious Advisory Board and Editorial Staff wish all of our readers a most blessed Advent and Christmas season. 68.4 2009 RANDALL S. ROSENBERG Christian Existence and Theology's Relevance theology and life 342 "Ihe Swiss thinker Hans Urs yon Balthasar is something of an enigma. He has been called the greatest Catholic theologian of the 20th century. He is the inspiration behind many believers who understand themselves as "orthodox" or "solid" Catholics. His work has been seen as an example of greater integration of spirituality and theology. He is the author to whom Jon Sobrino SJ refers in his reflec-tions on the "faith of Christ," a controver-sial position which has been criticized by the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. His ideas about gender complementarity and women's ordination have angered many. Some scholars, with strong Thomist commitments, have vigorously criticized his Christology and ¯ soteriology. Other scholars besides Sobrino are Randall S. Rosenberg is assistant professor of religion and philosophy at Fontbonne University (a school spon-sored by the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet); 6800. Wydown Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63105. Review for Religious beginning to make use of his thought to meet the con-cerns of liberation and political theology. My plan here is not to analyze all these currents. Rather, I intend to look at Balthasar's distinctive ideas about the aesthetic-dramatic constitution of Christian reality. He sees God's revelation, God's self-disclosure, as occurring first in aesthetic and dramatic forms, and he sees Christians as called to be co-actors in this "theo-drama" through liturgical ritual and a distinctive way of living. A Generational Concern Some of my attraction to Balthasar is probably gen-erational. I was born ten years after the Second Vatican Council. Although my childhood was shaped by a won-derful Catholic parish and school, my contemporaries and I still experienced what William Portier has called "the dissolution of the American Catholic subcul-ture." Not that I particularly desire a restoration of the good old days; for many, those days were apparently not so good. But it seemed to me, as I began to read Balthasar, that he was not only restoring something of the Christian vision's rich particularity and oddness, but also pointing out to people how beautifully and dra-matically that vision has enhanced all kinds of human lives, the great variety of saints most eminently. As he writes in Love Alone Is Credible, "Lovers are the ones who know most about God; the theologian must listen to them" (p. 12). It was exciting to discover a thinker who brought into his theology the witness of holy people and great texts not normally found in systematic theologians' reflection: Th~r~se of Lisieux, John.of the Cross, Gerard Manley Hopkins, and Dante, to name just a few. 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Cbristian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance Balthasar preserved what he called a "kneeling theology," without downplaying the use of reason in Christian life. And yet this same thinker also engaged seriously the thought of Hegel, Nietzsche, and Heidegger. In other words--Rodney Howsare has shown this in his book Baltbasar and Protestantism: The Ecumenical Implications of His Theological Style--Balthasar's theological vision had room both for God's revelation in Christ and for the works of reli-gious- philosophical scholars as legitimate moments in under-standing and present-ing Christian truth. Balthasar preserved what he called a "kneeling theology," without downplaying the use of reason in Christian life. His enviable dis-play of both loving devotion and a critical engagement with modernity prompts me to see him as embodying in important ways the dual task of ressourcement and aggior-namento set by Vatican II. Christian Existence as Theo-Drama The aesthetic-dramatic nature of Christian life is shown in the Scriptures. Moses and Paul experienced, aesthetically, the beauty or glory of God in the burn-ing bush and on the road to Damascus. These aesthetic encounters were also dramatic, and they led to the rest of their lives' being high drama as well. It is a com-mon feature of the Jewish and Christian Scriptures that experiences of God are not just holy feelings; they have a vocational, missionary purpose. The first part of Balthasar's multivolume trilogy, The Glory of the Lord, describes the way we first encounter the phenomenon Review for Religious of divine revelation as beautiful. The second part of the trilogy, Theo-Drama, recognizes that God's revelation is not something we merely look at; rather, we are drawn into the drama of revelation and are called to respond. Robert Barron nicely captures Balthasar's aesthetic-dra-matic emphasis: Christianity--like painting, baseball, and philoso-phy- is a world, a form of life. And, like those other worlds, it is first approached because it is perceived as beautiful. A youngster walks onto a baseball dia-mond because he finds the game splendid, and a young artist begins to draw because she finds the artistic universe enchanting. Once the beauty of Christianity has seized a devotee, she will long to submit herself to it, entering into its rhythms, its institutions, its history, its drama, its visions and activities. And then, having practiced it, having worked it into her soul and flesh, she will know it. The movement, in short, is from the beautiful (it is splendid!) to the good (I must play it!) to the true (it is right). In my own encounter with Balthasar, I have most appreciated his dramatic emphasis. In the first volume of his breathtaking five-volume Theo-Drama, Balthasar gives attention to the drama of human existence by using writers like Shakespeare, George Bernanos, Bertolt Brecht, Eugene Ionesco, and even the American Arthur Miller in a kind of prolegomenon to his understanding of Christian existence as "theodramatic." His range of reference to Christian, non-Christian, and even anti- Christian dramatists is astonishing. He uses the theater to illuminate the risk and gravity of human life, the catastrophes and tensions that constitute our existence, and the finite time span within which we must struggle for the good, under judgment and in the face of death. The theater can offer an opening to people's encoun- 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Theology'$ Relevance 346 ter with revelation. Balthasar's theodramatic approach employs the metaphor of the world stage. As actors in history, human beings share in the Son's mission, under the Holy Spirit's direction. Just as an actor's role in a theatrical drama constitutes a limited part of the play for a particular purpose, the finite lives of persons who share in the mission of Christ, no matter their life span, dis-close meaning that is relevant for the whole of history. On a personal note, I have appreciated Balthasar's dramatic treatment of the tragic in human existence. I have made my own the following remark of Rowan Williams: "What I found in Balthasar's work was an extraordinary depth of contemplative understand-ing, along with vivid awareness of the tragic quality of human existence--the hellishness of humanity and God's involvement in it--which resonated very deeply with me." Ever since I was a child, I have been par-ticularly sensitive to this tragic dimension, a disposition that has been heightened by my wife's daily work with children who suffer from cancer. The problem of evil as it manifests itself in sickness, natural disasters, random acts of violence, war, oppression, and genocide is never far from my mind. The late British theologian Donald MacKinnon, noting that Balthasar rarely treats the horror of the Holocaust directly, adds that "the nervous ten~ion of the whole argument witnesses to the author's passion-ate concern to present the engagement of God with his world in a way that refuses to turn aside from the over-whelming, pervasive reality of evil." Balthasar does not paper over the pathos of the real world, a pathos full of darkness and ambiguity. For him, God, in the incarna-tion and passion of Jesus, "steps to his opponent's side and, from within, helps him reach justice and freedom. Review for Religious Hnitude, time, and death are not negated: they are given a new value in a way that is beyond our comprehension. Indeed, even what is hostile to God, in all its profound abysses, is not abandoned; God does not turn his back on it: it is taken over and reworked." Balthasar never taught academic theology at a uni-versity. He spent many years, however, as a university chaplain. In the Switzerland of the 1940s this kind of work was largely cultural. Balthasar the chaplain spent his time giving lectures, in the evening debating in various student societies, and giving retreats. To borrow John W. O'Malley SJ's useful catego-ries from his Four Cultures of the West, Balthasar's thought more resembles cultures three and four--"Poetry, Rhetoric, and the Common Good" and "Art and Performance"-- than it does culture two--"The Academy and the Professions." O'Malley's remarks on Erasmus could be said about Balthasar: "He felt he could criticize Scholastic theology because he had an alternative to offer: a return to the more literary and rhetorical style of the Fathers. That was the 'ancient and genuine' the-ology, quite different from the 'modern' theology. It was genuine because it was drawn directly from the sacred texts and because it had led to a 'theological life.' It touched the heart and centered on the few truths that were essential to Christianity rather than on the second-ary issues the Scholastics pursued" (p. 160). Balthasar once remarked that his study with the Jesuits, largely in Neo-Scholastic mode, was a "grim struggle with what men had made out of the glory of revelation." He Balthasar never taught academic theology ,at a university. 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance 348 ~ "could not endure this presentation of the Word of God and wanted to lash out with the fury of Samson," tear "down the whole temple," and bury himself "beneath the rubble." It is often true that Balthasar's mode of presentation resembles a patristic sermon more than a scholastic treatise. In my recent experiences of presenting papers, giv-ing academic lectures, and doing job interviews, it has become evident that this aesthetic-dramatic emphasis genuinely excites scholars and ordinary laypeople. This emphasis could also be said to be Balthasar's greatest shortcoming as a "systematic" theologian. He is called "unsystematic" by those who argue for the indispens-ability of a more scientifically or theoretically con-structed theology in the manner of Thomas Aquinas. Let me address both sentiments. On the one hand, I am convinced that Balthasar's aesthetic-dramatic emphasis nurtures an appreciation for the inexhaustible mystery that resides at the heart of Christian revelation. He offers a richly symbolic and imaginative approach--one that fosters better Christian living, namely, the dramatic artistry needed for fulfill-ing our own unique missions. That is, his theology can give momentum to the religious feelings and beliefs that help us accomplish good in the particular circumstances of our lives. On the other hand, the aesthetic-dramatic emphasis is not always helpful when one does "system-atic theology" in order to answer the further questions that arise out of one's aesthetic-dramatic, liturgical, or devotional life. Balthasar's theology, besides being eclectic, has a contemplative emphasis that prefers to let "paradox" be the answer, rather than carefully working out a set of terms and relations and bringing a theo-logical intelligibility to the concrete conditions in which Review for Religious Christians live their lives. One is more likely to find this kind of intelligibility in Bernard Lonergan or Karl Rahner. Let me offer an example. It was my encounter with the writings of Balthasar that helped me discover the "weightiness" of the mystery of the cross. Balthasar is not content with presenting the cross as merely a consequence of Jesus' prophetic stance in the world. It is that, but it is also much more. It contains a vicarious element, which somehow involves Jesus' "taking on" the sin of the human race. Balthasar desires to do justice to a dominant theme in the Fathers, namely, the admirabile commercium, God's "wondrous exchange," with sinners. With aesthetic and dramatic power, Balthasar communi-cated to me the cross's power and centrality. And yet as questions arose--How did Jesus "take on" sin? Did he also take on our guilt? If so, did he also experience a loss of hope and the kind of darkness sinners experience?-- I became less satisfied with his systematic answers (or lack thereof). In my own research I have been more satisfied with a Thomist pattern of explanation (also not without its critics), given contemporary expression in Bernard Lonergan's writings on "Satisfaction" and the "Law of the Cross." Such writings offer terms and relations that can be used in engaging the modern sciences construc-tively. Balthasar has often prompted in me an excite-ment and concern about such theological questions Balthasar's theology, has a contemplative emphasis that prefers to let ',paradox" be the answer. 349 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance and then failed to give me adequate answers. In his De Verbo Incarnato, Lonergan writes that, if one approaches Christ's passion and death with primarily a "symbolic mentality," where image and feeling predominate, then one is likely to express the meaning of the cross in terms of "substitution" or "satispassion," that is, in terms of Jesus' "suffering enough" for sins. These words do not do justice to the sophistication of Balthasar's approach, but they indicate something about his theological style in general and his theology of Christ's passion and death in particular. In my estimation, because of its dramatic terminology and its reliance on the mystical experiences of Adrienne von Speyr, Balthasar's theology of Christ's passion and death is often unclear and even reckless. I wonder, though, whether this theological question, sparked by the power of Balthasar's presentation, would have occurred to me at all without his help. Balthasar himself was not concerned with meeting the requirements of a technical, theoretical, systematic theologian. He once said in an interview, "My books are not the kind of theology that belongs to the aca-demic guild and therefore they are not particularly suited for dissertations." He remarked, "I have to say that for me the only truly interesting theologians are the saints: from. Irenaeus through Augustine to Anselm, to Bonaventure, or figures that allow the radiation of holiness to show forth, such as Dante or Newman; one could also mention Kierkegaard and Solovyov." A Call for Fruitful Integration My concern goes beyond the question of Balthasar's adequacy as a systematic theologian. I have accentuated his aesthetic-dramatic approach here, but I know there are many other approaches as well. My concern is the Review for Religious shape of Catholic theology in the 21st century and the place of the aesthetic-dramatic style therein. Vv'hat does theology conceived in Anselmian fashion as "faith seek-ing understanding" mean in light of the many theologi-cal styles we have inherited from the 20th century, from what Fergus Kerr has called "the Heroic Generation"? In my discussion of the cross, I have offered a "the-oretical" or "explanatory" challenge to Balthasar's theological style. Let me now say that Balthasar, too, offers a challenge. He makes us ask: Must not theol-ogy go well :beyond understanding to an understand-ing that is aesthetically and dramatically in touch with the joys and challenges of ordinary Christian existence? Shouldn't theology be more attentive to the Mystery that is encountered in aesthetic and dramatic form in our workaday world's prayer and worship? A question remains regarding what to do with the diversity of theological styles we have inherited. R.R. Reno has suggested that "we need a period of consolidation that allows us to integrate the lasting achievements of the Heroic Generation into a renewed standard theology." Let me suggest, without adequate exposition, one possible way forward, a way which has been similarly outlined by Robert Doran SJ. The chal-lenge of this generation is to integrate three 20th-cen-tury theological movements--contemporary Thomism, the ressourcement project of la nouvelle thdologie, and the various expressions of political-liberation theol-ogy. These three movements could be of help (1) in explaining theological doctrines in a theoretical man-ner that is capable of engaging with the natural and social sciences in search of a unity of knowledge; (2) in experiencing and mediating Catholic thought and culture through aesthetic-dramatic forms; and (3) in 68.4 2009 Rosenberg * Christian Existence and Tbeology's Relevance dealing with concrete human suffering of all kinds in light of the gospel mandate to transform a world in need. Such a grand vision would require sympathetic and critical conversations, the highlighting of comple-mentarities and dialectical differences, and the humil-ity to be open to revision. If such an integration were to occur, it would require doing justice in an orderly way to the richness of being human in the flow of his-tory, that is, being psychological, intellectuall rational, moral, loving, mystical, and worshipful. For this enter-prise Balthasar would certainly not have all the answers, but he would have much to contribute to it. By Beauty Tethered God of the dawn and high noon and of twilight and midnight; God of the tides and the myriad droplets of dew; God of gardenias and larkspur and tulips; by beauty, God,~ tether my being to you. Mary Anne Huddleston IHM Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC How You Eat Matters I fEatthien gti,t lAe sJeoeymous sa Sbaict rpiufizczel.i"n gIn, It hper ompoatstee ra noof tehaetr-: ing, as in every other human exercise or experience, there is surely more to it than meets the eye, or indeed the tongue or any other sense organ. Perception of such impalpable reality may take no time or consume no little time. Communicating that reality, however, normally requires time, and maybe a detour. Anyway, in the present case, the process has been for me an experience of obscurum per obscurius, though at the end it was all darum (clear), bathed in light. "Hindu Prayer: A First for Congress"--that was the title of the news item from India Abroad News Service on 14 September 2000. The news was the historic event of a Hindu priest delivering the opening prayer in the United States House of Representatives.1 The prayer ran as follows: "O God, you are omnipresent, omnipo-tent, and omniscient. You are everything, and nothing A. Paul Dominic SJ wrote for us about dreams in 2008. His address is Aishalton c/o St Ignatius Mission; Lethem P.O.; Rupununi, Guyana (South America). Emaih pauldominicsj@yahoo.com 68.4 2009 Dominic ¯ How You Eat Matters is beyond you. You are our mother and father, and we are all your children." It continued: "Whatever you do is for our good. You are the ocean of mercy, and you forgive our errors. You are our teacher, and you guide us on to righteousness . Today, in this great hall, are assembled the elected representatives of the people of this nation. They are ready to perform their duties. God, please guide them in their thoughts and actions so they can achieve'the greatest good for all." The prayer ended with an invocation from the ancient scriptures of India. "May all be happy, may all be free from disease, may all realize what is good, may none be subject to misery; peace, peace, peace be unto all." The fact of the Hindu prayer in the U.S. Congress was objectionable and even threatening to some. Many others strongly counterprotested. Anyway, the words of the prayer cannot be construed really offensive to any-one, except of course an atheist. As a matter of fact, they breathe the deepest longings of harried humanity hop-ing in the Divinity. The way they are addressed to God smacks of no narrow Hinduism nor any sectarianism for that matter, but an inclusive theism. The God invoked is everybody's God.2 If the Hindu priest had his own traditional or peculiar thoughts about God, in no way does that show itself in his prayer. Even the concluding prayer, taken from the Hindu scriptures, sounds indeed more universal than particularly Hindu. It seems to show that genuine prayer cuts across ,barriers of religion. Everything connected with prayer in Hinduism can-not, of course, be explained thus. There are aspects of Hindu worship that are confined and meaningful only to adherents of Hinduism with its practices and tenets. Even here, however, it is wise to distinguish between what is exclusively Hindu and what is purely religious-- Review for Religious even though in practice the two are generally too inter-twined to detect. We should, however, exercise ourselves in this regard, for we can be surprisingly enriched as Christians and, what is more, find ourselves agree-ably bonded with other sincere believers. For example, though the ritual of sacrifice in various religions is dif-ferent in all of them and likely to distract and distance other people, the faith element in those sacrifices can be heartwarming and edifying to all those who can intuit it. Some reading I did about Hindu sacrifice proved to be quite inspiring. From it I got a sense of the homely and heavenly meaning of sacrifice beyond the altar's formal vesture, furnishings, and ceremony. I have grown to believe that eating at table has the character and odor of a true sacrifice. I was confirmed in my belief when I found a simi-lar thought in a poet with a Christian background. He shares his vision charmingly and persuasively: Since you must kill to eat, and rob the newly born of its mother's milk to quench your thirst, let it then be an act of worship, And let your board stand an altar on which the pure and the innocent of forest and plain are sacri-ficed for that which is purer and still more innocent in man.3 I have no inkling of how the poet arrived at his vision of profound truth. I can recount, however, my experience in this regard, recalling first the Hindu insight. i have grown to believe that eating at table has the character and odor of a true sacrifice. 68.4 2009 Dominic * How You Eat Matters A Hindu Adumbration The universe in the ancient Hindu vision originat-ing from the Vedic4 times of 2000 BC consisted of three worlds: the physical, the psychological, and the spiritual manitCesting themselves not as separate but congruent spheres. Fire (Affni in Sanskrit) at the physical level was obviously visible flames, like those burning a sacrificial offering to the deity. At the psychological level it was the mind exercising itself in thinking and knowing. At the spiritual level the same word was a name of God. Given the superiority of the spiritual over the physical and the psychological, the latter two were regarded and grasped as manifestations of the one supreme Spirit called Agrni, extending through the three-tiered universe. "The fire which is the sun, the fire which is the earth, that fire is in my own heart," as a Vedic verse put it pithily. One cannot miss the images of the three worlds: the sun standing for the spiritual, the earth for the material, and the human for the psychological.5 Anyone who is not at ease with this ancient under-standing needs only a moment's thought to see its con-nection with reality. For this a comparison with another religious tradition may help. In the Judaic tradition, physical fire serves the cultic needs of purification and liturgical rituals of offering. Fire that necessarily burns can signi~ blazing anger and, more importantly, the tribulation that cleanses the heart and proves the soul righteous. Fire is predicated of God's own self in theophanies of saving presence, transcendence, and benevolence. God appears as the burning bush and the pillar of fire and indeed as consuming fire (Dt 4:24, 9:3; Is 33:14). God purifies his servants and sets them afire with zeal so that the whole universe may shine in glory. Christian tradition has inherited this entire view Review for Religious and given it its own emphasis. Recall Jesus saying: "I have come to bring fire on the earth and desire that it be kindled" (Lk 12:49).6 Observing parallels in the Vedic and Biblical views of the world, one may see other ones as well. In the Vedic thought, sacrifice involves a conscious perception that the three worlds are bound together as one universe. Sacrifice involves lighting a fire and burning an obla-tion on the altar. The idea behind the ritual is that the spiritual fire that is in heaven is also buried in the earth, and so it bursts forth when stones or sticks are struck. By being burned, the gifts laid on the altar are carried to heaven. The fiery sacrifice returns all that is on the earth to its original source in heaven. The ideal of sacrifice behind this graphic picture is not absent in the Bible. Elijah's successful sacrifice when the prophets of Baal miserably failed (1 K 18:22.-38) comes to mind here. To continue still further with the inner significance of the Vedic sacrifice, as long as sacrifice is performed everything keeps returning to its origin, and human beings find themselves living in harmony with the uni-verse. When people fail in their duty of sacrifice, they interfere with the cyclic rhythm that sustains the world of which they are a part. They use the mountain of gifts without attending to their nature, thereby isolating both themselves and all things from their origin. They violate the law of the universe. But, when sacrifice is duly and gratefully done, it redounds to universal prosperity. This seems reflected in Psalm 50: "Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving and pay your vows to the Most High." The last element of all sacrifice is perhaps too obvi-ous to be striking: it is eating the sacrificial offerings. What is offered in sacrifice is normally things that peo-ple eat, and so a sacrifice ends as a sacrificial meal. But 68.4 2009 Dominic ¯ How You Eat Matters In the matter of sacrifice, the universal beliefwas that, when humans ate something of the sacrifice, the deity had partaken of it first. who eats in sacrifice? Those who sacrifice, of course. But, as the sacrifice is not offered to themselves, they do not eat alone. When the sacrifice is consumed by fire, it is believed that the deity above consumes it. This understanding is highlighted in the Hindu scriptural verse: "I, the Lord, become the fire of life, and seated in the body I consume the four kinds of food." This passage is certainly obscure for many, though it is for Hindus a familiar verse (vakya in Sanskrit) of the Bhagavad Gita, perhaps the most personal of all their scriptures. Anyway, what it says links human eating with divine eat-ing. In the matter of sacrifice, the universal belief was that, when humans ate something of the sacrifice, the deity had partaken of it first. Similarly, one may well conclude that what humans eat in ordinary meals is at the same rime consumed by "the fire of life," which is none other than God dwelling in human bodies. And so a human meal itself becomes a sacrifice to God. Bede Griffiths, the English Benedictine who, along with other foreign pioneers in India, continued the Indian tradition of ashram (akin to monasticism in the Western tradition), explains the point thus: "That fire, which is in the heaven above and in the earth beneath, is in our own bodies; we offer our food in sacrifice in that inner fire and it is consumed in the fire and surrendered to God again. So a meal is a sacrifice." Here is a subtle move from a sacrificial meal eaten on occasion to daily Review for Religious meals eaten in the joyous, harmonious spirit of sacri-fice. Drawing from another stanza in the Bhagavad Gita, Griffiths concludes that "anyone taking a meal without sacrificing is a thief; this is to take the gifts of God and appropriate them to oneself instead of receiving them as gifts and returning thanks.''7 A Christian Follow-Up Such a thought can startle nominal or profane Christians who have no thought of God whatever when they satisfy their hunger and thirst or overly indulge their tastes. Normal devout Christians accustomed to their routine mealtime prayer may well find more mean-ing in their daily practice. The grace before and after meals will then become the grace of meals as sacrifice. The whole meal from start to finish becomes an exercise and experience of grace, with the grace understood in terms of sacrifice. If sacrifice involves material fire for burning the oblation, daily meals as sacrifice ought to burn with the psychospiritual fire of desire--desire not merely for food, but for the One who gives the food. The Giver of food gives not only the natural and won-derful food and drink, but also the hunger, thirst, and taste buds necessary to enjoy it. Further, through our gratefulness God raises our minds beyond the mean philosophy of eat, drink, and be merry before it is too late. Enkindled by this grate-fulness, we cannot but experience a burning hunger for God. This does not produce asceticism in us so much as refine our taste for the simple, healthy, necessary food that makes for joyous living. At the same time it enables us to find God in food itself.8 This way of eating, that is much more than munching and gulping, becomes a sacrifice by virtue of the prayer surrounding our meals. 68.4 2009 Dominic ¯ How You Eat Matters As St. Paul says, food is for the stomach and the stom-ach for food, and ultimately the body is for the Lord (1 Co 6:13). Sacrificial prayer, then, from hearts burn-ing with fervor for God, rises like incense and raises people's spirits while leaving them contented with their daily bread. It is the very opposite of making a god of one's belly (Ph 3:19)9 and sacrificing to it. This talk is not farfetched or feverishly imagined. It breathes the spirit of Jesus who, being more a mystic than an ascetic, ate with much gratitude to his Abba God and with the childlike merriment of having been blessed. When necessary he gave hungry people food, but he also chided them for not understanding their hunger aright. One may learn a lot from his controversy with them as they were looking for him the day after he had miraculously fed them with bread and fish to their hearts' content (Jn 6). He unveiled to them their own undignified thoughts regarding food and satisfaction. He warned them not to work for food that cannot give life, but for the food from God that gives eternal life. "God's bread comes down from heaven and gives life to the world." Jesus told them that people do not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from God's mouth (Mr 4:4). Jesus' conduct in eating teaches about meal as sac-rifice. He takes the bread, looks up to heaven where his Abba Father dwells, gives thanks to him, and shares the bread with those around him generously, then pre-sumably eats along with them till finally making sure that nothing that remains goes to waste (Mt 14:19-20). While this pictures partly the proper Jewish uttering of a blessing such as "Praised be thou, O Lord our God, King of the universe, who bringest forth bread from earth," Jesus portrays more faithfully and characteristi- Review for Religious cally what his Abba intended when he led his people, feeding them with manna and so training them for life. His counsel to his eager listeners on the Mount is not to worry about food and drink. His words are meant to uplift them with the realization of their blessings on any given day, making of it a sacrifice of praise and grati-tude. The same spirit suffuses the prayer Jesus taught people to pray: "Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Give us each day our daily bread" (Lk 11:2-3). Because our daily meals are ideally sacrifices filling us with gratitude and.uniting us with the bountiful Abba Father, Jesus began his unique sacrifice at an ordinary, if festive, meal, his last meal before he died. And there he bequeathed his new sacrifice in the form of a unique meal. It is with the same inspiration that he spoke of the heavenly life with God as a banquet of communion with God and all God's beloved (Mt 8:11, 22:2). What happens when, thinking of a penitential aspect of sacrifice, we lose sight of the sublime aspect of eat-ing and drinking? One answer is that then we cannot fully engage in the divine mystery of our Christian sac-rifice. We would even act contrary to the spirit of the sacrifice when we are not celebrating the Liturgy for-mally. The Corinthians did this, as Paul reminded them. When they came together for the Lord's Supper, they did not wait for the Lord. Paul says: "When you meet together, it is not the Lord's Supper that you eat. For in eating, each one goes ahead with his own meal, and one is hungry and another is drunk" (1 Co 11:20-21). To spell out an implication in Paul's words, ordinary human meals should be much like the Lord's Supper. There is or should be etiquette and the spirit of sacrifice in every ordinary meal. 361 68.4 2009 Dominic * How You Eat Matters 362 The Hindu version of what happens when we do not honor the sacrificial aspect of human eating is best illustrated by a Hindu story. A man sought to know from a Hindu priest the greatest being in the universe worthy of a sacrifice. Following the clear instruction, he began offering food to the newly acquired idol in his house. One day he found a rat eating the offering. Inferring that the rat must be greater than the idol, he began making his sacrificial offering to the rat, till one day he saw a cat threatening the rat. So he began mak-ing his sacrifice to the cat. One day the man's wife saw the cat on an eating spree in the kitchen and chased it away with a stick2 Made aware of this greater power of his wife, he began making his sacrifice to her. Then one day, finding the meal she cooked and served too salty, he shouted at her. She quivered at his anger. That encounter made him feel superior to his wife, and so he began to offer food sacrificially to himself. He ate and ate until he died. Can anyone be so foolish? Not in such an obvious way, but most of us are probably about half that foolish. The really wise, of course, would know how to enjoy food and drink while recognizing that they are also part of the grateful sacrifice due to God. There is something beautiful and divine in such sacrifice pervading daily life without formal rubrics and yet illumining the rubrics of the altar. "So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God" (1 Co 10:31). Notes ~ There was a similar first occurrence of prayer, this one in Sanskrit, spoken by a Hindu in the Nevada State Assembly on 19 March 2007 and in the Nevada State Senate on 7 May 2007, both in Carson City. See Kaumudi USA-News, March 2007 (front page). 2 Some Muslims, however, would not agree on this. Review for Religious 3 Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet (New Delhi: Allied Publishers, 1976), p. 30. 4 The word derives from the Vedas, the earliest Hindu scriptures in Sanskrit. s See Bede Griffiths, A New Vision of Reality (New Delhi: Indus, 1992), pp. 58-59. 6 See John L. McKenzie, Dictionary of the Bible (Bangalore: Asian Trading Corporation, 1998), pp. 277-278. 7 Griffiths, New Vision, p. 61. The verse itself runs thus: "Nourished by your sacrifice, the Gods will grant you your heart's desires. / What a thief is he who enjoys their gifts but gives nothing in return!" (3:12). See Raimundo Panikkar et al., The Vedic Experience (London: Darton, Longman, and Todd, 1977), p. 428. s As Jesus overturned the notion of unclean food in Jewish Pharisaism and declared all food clean (Mk 7:19), he would also declare all food good against what may be called Christian libertinism. 9 Of course, in the Pauline context the reference was to Jewish dietary laws that in Christianity were being superseded, whereas here it is the regrettable exaltation of food for food's sake. Questions for Personal and Group Reflection 1. How do you consider grace before and after meals meaningful to your Christian living? 2. Can you explain that the Last Supper exemplifies for us how our daily meals are "ideally sacrifices filling us with gratitude and uniting us with the bountiful Abba Father"? 363 68.4 2009 PATRICIA A. WITTBERG religious life models Opening a New Window: Fifteen Years after the FORUS Study More than fifteen years ago, Miriam Ukeritis csJ and David Nygren CM published their groundbreaking study, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States) In it they predicted that religious congregations had only a ten-year window of opportunity before the aging of their current members and the lack of new entrants would render them nonviable. Many resisted this prediction, refusing to believe it. Some spun visions of an alternate (and socio-logically naive) future in which religious con-gregations would expand to include married and single, vowed and nonvowed, Catholic and non-Catholic, male and female, all somehow gathered together under the aegis of a vaguely defined charism? Others, not knowing what to believe, considered religious life's future Patricia A. Wittberg SC wrote about the "recipro-cal identities" of apostolic life and consecrated life in our July-August 2002 issue. Her address remains 2141 Dugan Drive; Indianapolis, Indiana 46260. Email: pwittber@iupui.edu Review for Religious something they could do litde about and focused their diminishing energies on their ministries instead. Fifteen years later, for many religious congregations, the window of opportunity appears to have closed. Few if any of their members are under the age of sixty; no one has entered for ten or even twenty years; vocation directors are burned out or depressed. Many members coverdy believe--and some openly argue--that it is use-less and unethical to invite young people to enter. It is for these congregations, especially, that I am writing this article, but I offer it as well to communities which are in less dire straits. I. believe that both could profit from the following alternative. I would like to point out a different--and more sociologically feasible--path for the future of declining religious congregations. I do not see this as replacing traditional religious life--which is thriving on a smaller scale in some (but not all) of the CMSWR congregations in the United States, and on a larger scale in Africa and South Asia. There will always be a place in the church for the traditional model of religious life. But U.S. Catholic culture is no longer as hospitable to this model as it once was. If it were, several hundred, not a few dozen, traditional religious congregations would be springing up in this country, and they would be doubling in membership every decade. Such explosive growth was the norm for religious congregations founded in the 19th century, and it obviously is not happening today. This comparative lack of interest, however, does not indicate that present-day U.S. Catholics are unspiritual heathens. They simply are not attracted to the traditional model. I believe that American Catholicism would be bet-ter served if several other versions of religious life were also available to young Catholics. By"other versions" I 68.4 2009 tVittberg ¯ Opening a New Window A social movement is a wave of beliefs and/or actions that sweeps large numbers of persons into working toward a specific goal. 366 do not mean the lifestyles currendy being modeled by most of the non-CMSWR religious congregations. These are faring even worse than the traditionalist orders in attracting new members. Their charisms are still beau-tiful and, for the most part, still valid in today's world. But they are not being presented in a form that appeals to young Catholics today. Instead, I want to suggest a different strategy for handing on a congregation's charism to a new generation: starting one---or preferably severalmsocial-movement orga-nizations. To explain how this would work, I first need to define a few terms. Broadly considered, a social movement is a wave of beliefs and/or actions that sweeps large numbers of persons into working toward a specific goal. Examples are the civil-rights movement, the women's movement, the envi-ronmental movement, and the right-to-life movement. Each of these movements may con-tain dozens of separate social-movement organizations (SMOs) which focus on particular activities, particular groups of people, or particular issues related to the larger movement's goals. Thus, the environmental movement includes large organiza-tions like the Sierra Club, the Nature Conservancy, and Greenpeace and also many smaller groups that focus on saving the monarch butterfly, cleaning up a local river, opposing the dumping of toxic waste, and so forth.3 There have been religious social movements and, thus, religious social-movement organizations as well. In Review for Religious Protestantism, a succession of social movements called "Great Awakenings" sparked a host of religious revival groups throughout the 18th and 19th centuries, several of which developed into full-fledged denominations such as the Mormons, the Seventh-Day Adventists, and the various Pentecostal churches. In Catholicism, waves of devotionalism swept through both 17th-century France and 19th-century North America,4 spinning off pilgrim-age societies, sodalities, and prayer groups devoted to particular saints, scapulars, or novenas. These were not .religious orders at their inception, but some later did develop in that direction. Other times they simply strengthened the existing orders. I am suggesting that religious congregations con-sciously try to foster something similar today. Most still have one or more members who are passionate about meeting some particular need in today's world, be it sav-ing the environment, feeding the poor, sheltering home-less women and children, providing free medical care to the uninsured, or mentoring the spiritually searching,s Many of these members have already worked out a more or less specific theology to ground their activities and to explain how their passion fits with the congregation's charism. Some have recruited a corps of volunteers to help them in. their work. To paraphrase the famous line from MoliEre,6 they are already "forming a religious SMO without knowing it." However, these passionate members are often less connected to the rest of the con-gregation. For years, even decades, the other members may have left them alone to "do their own thing." But it is only a small step from what these indi-vidual religious are already instinctively doing, for their congregation deliberately to form and maintain several SMOs to enflesh its charism for subsequent genera- 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window 368 tions. All that remains is to help each incipient group to articulate its identity publicly, to specify clearly its religious grounding in the congregation's charism, and to take specific steps to ensure its leadership continuity and stable membership. This might simply involve: ¯ Picking a name connected with both the charism of the congregation and the specific focus of the group: "Vincentian Servants of the Homeless," "Franciscan Brothers and Sisters of the Earth," "Centering Pray-ers," and so forth. ¯ Adopting an identifiable sign of group affiliation, for example, a common T-shirt or a medal. ¯ Maintaining a public-relations effort to inform potential volunteers, donors, other members of the con-gregation, and the church at large about the group's existence and to attract them to its mission. ¯ Spelling out the criteria for entering and exiting the group, expectations of membership, and ongoing group governance. Previous evidence indicates that, paradoxically, groups with more rigorous expectations are more likely to succeed than those which demand less of their adherents.7 The first two steps are relatively simple, and may already have been taken. But they are not enough. Unless some provision is made for the continuance of the SMO, it may not survive its founder's retirement. The founding brother or sister may be neither inter-ested in nor skilled at such bureaucratic maintenance activities. For the remaining steps, therefore, a religious congregation may be able to offer valuable help from its communications office (for the third task), and its leadership (for the fourth). The kind of social-movement organization I am advocating may or may not be represented by a con- Review for Religious gregation's associate program. A congregation's associ-ates could certainly be this kind of group--but only if they are organized around a readily articulated spiri-tual focus and/or apostolic activity that distinguishes associate membership from the larger call given to any Catholic. Simply stating that associates are devoted to "living the charism of the founder" is not enough. The more focused the associates' commitment--whether in monthly or weekly prayer/lectio according to the founder's spirituality, or in working on a regular basis with the vowed members in their ministry, or in staffing some auxiliary ministry that complements that of the vowed members--the more my SMO proposal here can be applied to them. Otherwise, an associateprogram will not be sufficiendy distinct from the lifestyle of non-associates to enflesh the order's charism on its own. Advantages of the SMO Model I am suggesting that some congregations--especially those whose members have tacitly abandoned the hope of attracting new vowed members--make a point of acknowledging this and then start to recruit people for their present members' particular SMOs. What would be the advantages of such a strategy? First of all, any given religious congregation will survive only to the extent that its members are passionately devoted to some particular version of their founding charism. The future of religious life does not rest with the tired or apathetic, but after a long period of decline many religious now are both. Most congregations have only a few members with the needed passion and enthusiasm. Moreover, these members may not all be focused on the same passion. Some may live and breathe God's call to serve the poor; others may devote their energies to preserving God's 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window Any given religious congregation will survive only to the extent that its members are passionately ~devoted to some particular version of their founding charism. 370 creation through environmental activities; still others, with a more contemplative bent, may foster spirituality through centering prayer, pastoral counseling, or reli-gious art or music. A religious order faced with only a handful of healthy and passionate vowed members, each deeply devoted to a different passion, faces a serious dilemma. It can either focus on one of these passions to the exclu-sion of the others (which would be profoundly alien-ating to those left out), or it can try to include all of them (which dilutes the con-gregation's spe-cific identity and its ability to rally its members around a common goal). Either way, a congregation's ability to recruit to vowed membership is weakened if its remaining passion-ate members are devoted to different articulations of its charism, because its overall corporate mission identity will be weak.8 In contrast, enfleshing these articulations in several different SMOs would strengthen a congregation and improve the chances for its charism to survive. Since each SMO's participants are not necessarily vowed to the congregation, it is not only possible but desirable that several could exist under the same congregational "rOOfo''9 The more different SMOs a congregation's members "spin off," the greater the chance that one, at Review for Religious least, will catch fire. As I will argue below, this may then become the seed for the congregation's future. A second advantage of the SMO approach is that it is a sociologically feasible way of incorporating temporary members or inviting specific demographic groups into the congregation's family. The prospect of temporary membership in permanently vowed religious congrega-tions has been discussed for over thirty years without ever coming to fruition.'° This is probably a sign that the concept is unworkable. A host of decisions would need to be faced in a congregation that included both permanent and temporary members: financial expec-tations, for example, or voice and vote in chapters. Maintaining a distinction between the two groups could imply a second-class status for the temporary members; erasing the distinction would depreciate the perpetually vowed members' commitment. Also, there is not now and never has been any indi-cation that large numbers of potential entrants are clamoring for the option of temporary membership in communities with perpetual vows. If anything, the opposite is the case. In contrast, however, various lay movements that are similar to SMOs are thriving in the church--which may be a sign that the model is a more compatible and sociologically viable Way of enfleshing a religious call in today's world.'1 Lay social-movement organizations are compat-ible with temporary commitment. In fact, many actu-ally expect that their members will stay no more than three or four years. Prayer or volunteer groups specifi-cally targeting high school or college students would be examples of these. A recently begun group is the St. Joseph of Arimathea Society--groups of high school students in Cleveland and Louisville who help provide 371 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window A final advantage of religious ¯ social-movement organizations is that it is less devastating for the members if they dissolve. dignified and reverent funeral services for homeless peo-ple, and for murder victims and deceased old and young people whose relatives are too few or too devastated to arrange a funeral themselves. The students provide sing-ers and pallbearers, tend the "potter's field" cemetery, and collect money for flowers and grave markers. More traditional examples of student organiza-tions include prayer groups (Athletes for Christ, rosary or adoration societies) or twinning arrange-ments with a school in a poor area. There is no expectation that the students will remain members of these groups after their graduation, although they may be directed to affiliated adult groups which they may or may not choose to join. A final advantage of religious social-movement orga-nizations is that it is less devastating for the members if they dissolve. While no data exist on the number of failed attempts that preceded or accompanied the suc-cessful founding of religious orders in previous centu-ries, anecdotal evidence in our histories indicates that at least as many attempts to found religious orders have failed as succeeded. This appears to be true today as well. Of the 97 new religious communities listed in the 1999 Directory of Embrging Religious Communities, 24 had dissolved by 2006, and another 21 had lost members.~2 Founding or truly refounding a religious order is a chancy business, and those who commit their lives to one of these new groups risk losing both financial security Review for Religious and mental/emotional health if they fail. Committing oneself to an SMO carries with it many fewer risks. Outcomes For those religious who are concerned for the pres-ervation of their congregation's charism, forming one or more SMOs could have several beneficial results: ¯ Social-movement organizations may be effective recruit-ment vehicles for vowed membership. With few religious teaching in Catholic schools, most young Catholics have never seen a sister or brother. And few religious inter-act with anyone younger than fifty on a deep or regu-lar basis. How can young Catholics join a lifestyle they know so little about? How can religious invite those they never see? Participating with vowed religious on an ongoing basis in a soup kitchen, a prayer group, or an ecological project will help young people get to know the religious involved--and vice versa. ¯ One particular social-movement organization may develop into the vehide that will carry a congregation's charism into the next generation, after all of the former vowed mem-bers are gone. If so, this would finally realize the inclusive ¯ scenario that the "Transformative Elements" painted for the future of religious life twenty years ago. How could anyone say that a religious charism was extinct if, instead of a small number of vowed religious, an SMO of married, single, Catholic, and non-Catholic men and women were living it out by feeding the hungry, praying a particular devotion, tutoring poor children, or in some other way were bringing the founder's original vision into the 21st century? "Life is not ended, merely changed." ¯ A truly successful social-movement organization will often, however, contain a number of members who do want to devote their entire lives to its vision. It may 373 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window be that these members will not join the original community, but will instead begin a new one. If the first community is still around at this point, their wisdom and experi-ence would be invaluable for the new group. If not, the stories of the SMO's original founder--the sister who started a free clinic in Appalachia, the brother whose soup kitchen mobilized a city to feed the poor--will serve as a template. After all, Frederick Ozanam (the founder of the St. Vincent de Paul Society) lived sev-eral centuries after Vincent himself. St. John Bosco had never met St. Francis de Sales. Throughout the millennium and a half that Catholic religious life has existed, many new religious orders or lay groups have been formed from old templates. SMOs could provide templates of this very kind. Next Steps I believe that social-movement organizations could be useful, both for religious congregations that have given up on recruiting vowed members, and also for more-viable communities that still attract some young people. For the former, it may be the last remaining way they have of passing on their charism to a new genera-tion. For the latter, it may help them attract even more new entrants. The next steps I would suggest to con-gregations wishing to found such organizations--or to foster the ones their individual members have already begun--are as follows: ¯ Take inventory of today's society: What are its deep-est needs or desires? As I have noted previously,~3 the best way to determine these needs is to look at what larger social movements are currently growing. The most pressing social movements reveal themselves by the large number of SMOs they spawn. Are there already Review for Religious a lot of small environmental groups? Prayer groups? Adoration groups? Groups working with the poor? Women's groups? Check out the directory of associa-tions on the Internet Public Library (http://www.ipl. org/div/aon/)to find out. Is there room for another SMO, locally, in this movement? For example, is there a group that the movement currently does not reach, such as Hispanics or high school youth? Is there a new tactic or way of addressing the issue that existing SMOs do not use? Could adding your congregation's spirituality or charism deepen commitment to the social movement? ¯ Take inventory of your congregation: Who are your passionate members? What are their passions? How, if at all, do these passions relate to the charism of your founder? What larger social movements do these pas-sions relate to? Are your community's passionate mem-bers interested in leading or organizing a group to assist them in their work? Or, better, have they already done so? Are other members in your congregation interested in helping them? ¯ What does the group still need in order to succeed? Does it need to expand its pool of potential volunteers? Secure more stable funding? Plan for the founder's retirement? What is the optimum size for the group? Would expansion be good for it--or dilute its unique character? If the latter, can the group's model be "fran-chised" in some way, with separate independent chap-ters in various cities?14 ¯ What assistance can the congregation render? Can your communications office help to publicize the group? Can your vocation personnel and/or associates help locate new volunteers? Does the group need a place to meet? Need mentoring in finances or grant writing? What about retreats or prayer days on the charism? And 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New Window 376 who in the congregation could provide these services? A weakness in any new religious organization is its "liabil-ity of newness," which may lead to mistakes that imperil its very survival. A more experienced mentor could be a tremendous help. It is obvious by now that religious life is at the end of one of the cyclic downturns which have recurred over the centuries. Rather than resign ourselves to our "inev-itable" extinction--and thereby create a self-fulfilling prophecy--I think we should notice that the SMO model offers a way to midwife the new forms of religious life that will thrive and grow in the years ahead. The many permutations of this model already appearing--associ-ate programs, lay ecclesial movements, mixed emerg-ing communities--are foreshadowings, I believe, of an absorbing future. This is true even if most of them fail, as new ventures often do. More will continue to spring up until some "get it right." With their centuries-long experience and the passions of at least some of their vowed members, today's religious congregations could help in this rebirth. Notes ~ David Nygren and Miriam D. Ukeritis, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Transformation and Commitment (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1993). 2 A good example would be the third and fourth of the so-called "Transformative Elements" developed by the joint CMSM/LCWR meet-ing in Louisville in 1989--and cited on pp. 255 and following of Nygren and Ukeritis's book. Supposedly, this is what religious life would look like in the year 2010. In hindsight, it reflects more wishful thinking than any real-world trends for vowed religious life. 3 Fora fuller discussion of social movements and social-movement organizations, see my Pathways to Re-Creating Religious Communities (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1996), chap. 4. 4 See Elizabeth Rapley, The D~votes: Women and Church in Seventeenth Review for Religious Century France (Montreal: McGill-Queens University Press, 1990), and Anne Taves, The Household of Faith: Roman Catholic Devotions in Nineteenth Century America (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1986), for these waves of devotionalism. s My own congregation has individual sisters--of whom I am extremely proud--deeply involved in all of these activities. 6 Or maybe not so famous--the citation refers to a line from Moli~re's comedy Le bourgeois gentilhomme, in which a nouveau riche man is being tutored in literature and discovers that he has been speak-ing prose all of his life without knowing it. 7 See, e.g., Rodney Stark and Roger Finke, Acts of Faith: Explaining the Human Side of Religion (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2000), chap. 7. 8 According to the Nygren and Ukeritis study, mission identity is the principal variable influencing a congregation's success (see pp. 97-98). 9 Several religious families have known this instinctively. For exam-ple, my own Vincentian tradition includes, not only the Congregation of the Mission, the Daughters of Charity, and the various Sister of Charity Federation congregations, but also the St. Vincent de Paul Society, the Ladies of Charity, Vincentian Marian Youth, the Association of the Miraculous Medal, and the Missionary Cenacle, all of which are move-ment organizations of nonvowed laypersons. Similarly the Salesian family includes, not only the Salesian priests and Visitation nuns, but other vowed religious such as the Sisters of Mary Help of Christians, the Missionaries of St. Francis, the Salesian Missionaries of Mary Immaculate, and the Oblate Sisters of St. Francis de Sales, plus lay groups such as the Association of St. Francis de Sales and the Oblates of St. Francis de Sales. to I am not referring here to societies of apostolic life like the Daughters of Charity, who make annual vows, but rather to including an option for temporary membership in congregations whose members are now expected to make perpetual vows. Moreover, even among the Daughters of Charity, there is the assumption that one's annual vows are really for life. ~' According to the Center for Applied Research in the Apostolate (CARA), Emerging Communities of Consecrated Life in the United States (Washington, D.C.: Georgetown University Press, 2006, p. 16), ten of the twelve most rapidly growing new indigenous emerging communities in the U.S. are mixed communities with some, or all, lay members. t2 CAP, A, Emerging Communities, p. 16. 377 68.4 2009 Wittberg ¯ Opening a New V~ndow ,3 Wittberg, Pathways, pp. 80-85. ,4 The above-mentioned St. Joseph of Arimithea Society seems to operate through "franchises"--the Cleveland and Louisville chapters appear to be separate from each other. Many.other groups enlisting high school or college students operate similarly. A Sampler of Potential (and Actual) Religious SMOs 1. "Franchised" Youth Groups (local school chapters, perhaps with a national headquarters supplying materials or training) a. Volunteers supporting a local soup kitchen b. A high school or college centering-prayer group c. Group spiritual direction, big brother/sister spiritual mentoring d. Adoration societies, sodalities 2. Ministry Groups (non-age-specific, perhaps linked nationally in a network or association) a. Supporting crisis pregnancies b. Companioning the dying c. Running a women's shelter d. Strengthening marriages 3. Spirituality Groups (may have a centralized head-quarters and/or a youth branch - see #1, above) a. Devotion to a particular saint b. Performance of a particular spiritual practice (Eucharistic adoration, centering prayer, pilgrimages) c. Spiritual mentoring, group spiritual direction 4. Lifestyle Groups a, Simple living b. Intentional communities c. Peace and reconciliation Review for Retigious WILLIAM P. CLARK Revisiting Religious Identity mnthe years following the Second Vatican Council, uch attention was focused on changes in religious life. Much writing and much effort have been directed toward rethinking or reimaging religious life. In light of all that, one might be tempted to say "Enough already!" An old saying has it that familiarity breeds contempt. Familiarity can also breed complacency and neglect. It might be good, then, to look once again at what it means to be a religious, to reflect on our religious iden-tity. Besides the decree on the renewal of religious life, Perfectae caritatis, Vatican Council II also spoke of the role of religious in Lumen gentium, the dogmatic con-stitution on the church. In chapter 6, §44, we read that the religious state "manifests in a special way that the kingdom of God and its high requirements transcend all earthly considerations, bringing home to all people William P. Clark OMI, longtime teacher and administrator, lives at St, Henry's Oblate Residence; 200 North 60th Street; Belleville, Illinois 62223. 379 68.4 2009 Clark ¯ Revisiting Religious Identity the immeasurable greatness of the power of Christ in his sovereignty and the infinite might of the Holy Spirit marvelously working in the church.'" The council is simply saying religious life gives special witness that, above and beyond earthly values, there is something we call the kingdom of God. While religious life's characteristic witness is spe-cial, it is not exclusive. It is the duty of all Christians to give witness to the kingdom of God. All Christians, be they lay or religious, are committed to living out their baptismal consecration. Emphasis on the common voca-tion of all Christians highlights what is of fundamental importance, the fullness of Christian life informed by charity. That emphasis also counteracts any tendency to draw unfavorable comparisons between the lay and religious states, as though laypersons are somehow sec-ond- class citizens or "children of a lesser God." That broad emphasis on all Christian life is rooted in the most ancient tradition of monasticism. In his masterful study The Spirituality of the New Testament and the Fathers, Louis Bouyer finds certain constants in the literature of monasticism. He affirms them because they were some-what obscured by later developments. One such insight is that the primitive monk did not appear special. Whether by himself or others, his vocation was not considered par-ticular or exceptional. The monk was simply a Christian, a devout layperson who took the most radical means to live the Christian life to the fullest. The monk proposed no other end than to be saved. All his life, the monk asked for no other teaching from his elders than the means of attaining that goal. His fundamental and persistent ques-tion was: "Tell me. How can I be saved?" Two points need emphasis. First, holiness, the fullness of Christian life, is not something reserved Review for Religious to religious, while laypersons are called to something less. Second, religious are to focus on the essential, on the search for union with God, and not see holi-ness as something incidental or distinctive which sets them apart from "ordinary" Christians. Fundamental to religious identity is one's identity as a Christian. It is the fullness of the Christian experience that constitutes Christian identity. There are three major elements in the Christian expe-rience. The first is not distinctively Christian. It is the human preamble. It consists in discovering that human happiness and fulfillment are not brought about by tak-ing. We all start out that way, looking for that certain something or combination of things which, if we could only latch on to it and make it our own, would provide fulfillment. The Christian experience becomes possible once we realize that what we really seek is something or someone to give ourselves to, something or someone greater and nobler than ourself. It is a search for some-thing or someone that will endow our life with meaning and purpose. Finding that something or someone is the beginning of faith as a lived reality. It becomes the basis of all commitment worthy of the name. The second element makes the experience specifi-cally Christian. It consists in finding that greater-than-self reality in the person of Jesus Christ. It is finding in his words meaning for our life. It is finding in his life the pattern and model for our own. The third element is the desire to share what we have found. We want others to find the meaning and purpose that have become our own. We want to live out this meaning and purpose in love for one another. The full Christian experience, then, is apostolic and missionary. 381 68.4 2009 Clark * Revisiting Reli#ous Identity 382 If this Christian experience is not real in our lives, no amount of theorizing about what it is or should be will ever make it so. Furthermore, theorizing will not help much in our lives as religious. If the Christian experience is real, it can be progressively liberating, freeing from all those attitudes of mind and spirit that limit us to operating within the narrow confines of self-ish interests. Like all Christians, religious are to give witness by their lives to the possibilities open to everyone for liber-ation from enslaving attitudes like inordinate ambition, defensiveness, possessiveness, self-pity, and cynicism. The life of religious should also be an active witness to joy, to hope, and to love. The call to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity seems so daunting that peo-ple often try to evade its challenge. In doing so, lay-persons sometimes say that holiness is something for religious and priests, not for "ordinary" persons like themselves. Likewise, religious sometimes find a type of escape through dependence on the system. Religious life involves a kind of system that includes public vows, constitutions and rules, and a goodly number of prac-tices found in the traditions of various religious insti-tutes. We might think just plugging into the system will make us as holy as we need to be. It is easy to just coast along. All too easily we can come to rate as virtue whatever is conformable to our religious surroundings. Custom and routine can so enslave us as to dispense us from personal decision. Of course, custom and routine, as well as the regular practices and exercises of religious life, are also great helps--if we understand and use them righdy. They do not, however, carry us all the way. They reflect the fact Review for Religious that in choosing to be religious we have set the direction of our lives. But they do not guarantee we never lose that direction. The need for ongoing renewal is simply the need to reaffirm, to reset our direction. The human condition is such that nothing can be taken for granted except the constancy of God's grace, of his invitation. Another point on which the council spoke explic-itly is religious consecration. Everyone of the faithful is consecrated to the divine service by baptism. Clearly, in various contexts the word "consecration" has various meanings, causing difficulties to be raised about how this idea applies to religious. In address-ing those difficulties, the council begins by relating religious con-secration to baptism. Religious consecra-tion adds nothing to the baptism's sacramental character. It is, however, in the line of baptismal grace. That grace can be lived in varying degrees of intimacy. The coun-cil speaks of religious as being "more intimately conse-crated to the divine service." That phrase is significant. It does not say "more strictly" or anything that might seem to emphasize some form of legal obligation. What the council points out by those words is that baptismal consecration can be interiorized to a greater or lesser extent by grace and by love. Ultimately, the truth of every Christian life consists in one's baptismal consecration. But God calls people to live out that consecration in different ways. For religious The call to the fullness of Christian life and to the perfection of charity seems so daunting that people often try to evade its challenge. 68.4 2009 Clark ¯ Revisiting Religious Identity the call to God's service is more explicitly determined. It takes on a particular form or style. To put that a bit differently, for religious the vital response called for by God's loving initiative is made concrete in a specific and distinctive way. By making a certain explicit profession of the evan-gelical counsels, persons technically become religious. The purpose of such profession is to commit ourselves more explicitly and more profoundly to living our bap-tismal consecration. At one time religious profession was commonly called "a new baptism" in homilies at profession ceremonies. In those days it was not always adequately explained. The council statements revitalized and clarified that idea. In reflecting on religious consecration, it is important to realize that such consecration is the work of God. Virtually every page of Scripture speaks of God's initiative in regard to creatures. Jesus told his disciples: "You have not chosen me. I have chosen you." Passages like that have a particular resonance for religious. It is God who calls religious and consecrates them through the church's ministry. Because it is God's work, religious consecration is permanent. God's choice and God's fidelity are unchanging. God is constant in the grace he offers, in his call. Our challenge is to keep trying to respond generously to that call. Religious consecration represents a special instance of the mysterious interaction between grace and human freedom. Obviously it is essential that those consecrat-ing themselves to God's service be free. At the same time we must recognize that the consecration is ulti-mately God's work. Religious profession has never been considered a sacrament by the church. In recent years many things have been referred to as "sacraments," in a broad sense Review for Religiot~s of the word. In the strict sense, religious profession is not a sacrament. That does not mean, however, that religious profession has no reality beyond the disposi-tion and conduct of the subject. Religious consecration is something accorded to free persons precisely as free. To be received, the consecra-tion requires a personal response to God's call. That response includes certain characteristics. It must be sufficiently enlightened, conscious, and free. A person's intention and the vows which formulate that intention are eminently free acts. Conversely, when the church dispenses from vows, she judges that in reality there was some impediment to freedom in the original profes-sion, something lacking in what was offered for divine consecration. The fact that religious consecra-tion is not a sacrament does not mean nothing more is involved than the liberty of the one making vows. On God's part the engagement is indefectible. A vocation consists in a person's being called to a cer-tain manner of life. Each vocation has its own structure and laws. Those laws are not to be understood as some-thing imposed from the outside. They derive from the very nature of the life in question. To ignore structure and laws proper to religious life would be to think of reli-gious life as funny putty which can take on any shape one gives it. History shows significant variations in the forms of religious life. But, in the last analysis, that life must always be directly related to what is most fundamental in Christianity, the search for God and growth in charity. A vocation consists in a person's being called to a certain manner of life. 68.4 2009 Clark * Revisiting Religious Identity In the Christian understanding of life, the goal is progress in charity. Jesus made it clear that love of God and love of neighbor sum up the whole law. Love gives ultimate value to what we do. That is why religious con-secration is wholly directed towards love of God and neighbor. It is precisely that love which gives the value of consecration to the activity of the religious. The idea that one's activities must continuously be animated by charity is certainly not new. We have heard it countless times in one form or another. Nor is it distinctive. It is true for everyone. By religious profession we are committed to that goal more explicitly, more officially, as it were. On the part of religious, the consecration of one's life consists in using distinctive means for achieving the common Christian goal of progress in charity. My cir-cumstances, my state of life, determine the means that are most appropriate for me. Jacques Maritain offered an excellent definition of means. He said means are the end in the process of coming to be. Thus, at each moment of our journey toward the perfection of love, we make that end real by employing the appropriate means, Perhaps we should emphasize the word "journey." While we hope we are on the right road and we try to keep moving in the right direction, we never reach the end, the perfection of love, in this life. Another way to put that is to say that holiness is not so much a place we arrive as it is the way we travel. Consciousness of our shortcomings and failures makes us reluctant to think of ourselves as holy. A num-ber of years ago Archbishop John Roach of St. Paul, in a pastoral letter on spirituality titled A Friendship Unlimited, offered a valuable insight in this regard. He wrote: "It's a funny thing, but for years I couldn't imag- Review for Religious ine thinking of myself as holy. I was equating holiness with perfection, and I knew I simply didn't have that. It is clear to me now that holiness is the desire to be a friend of Jesus Christ and to surrender my will to God. I may stumble along with that. I have so far--but, so long as I continue a sincere effort toward that goal, I am holy." It might help also to remind ourselves of one charac-teristic of holiness that is often overlooked. It is compat-ible with human frailty. Many stories and most statues of saints give a wrong impression, an impression of otherworldliness that obscures the fact that those saints were real human beings with human faults and weak-nesses. Examples are plentiful. St. Augustine was given to rages. St. Thtr~se of Lisieux had bouts of depression. St. Vincent de Paul, the great saint of charity, was said to be bilious and subject to fits of anger. St. Jerome was aggressive and insulting to persons who disagreed with him. In fact, one of his contemporaries said of Jerome that his malice was such that no saint could live within miles of him. The secret of all of those people is that they never gave up struggling and working to overcome their human weaknesses. They knew what counts is not the triumphant victory of total perfection, but persevering effort. Teresa of Avila said we should strive and strive and strive, for we were made for nothing else. She was right, of course, but the way she said it makes it sound hard. And it is a constant challenge. We cannot gloss over that. But I like the way T.S. Eliot put it when he said: "We are only undefeated because we keep 6n trying." In question 186 of the Secunda Secundae of his Summa Theologiae, St. Thomas treats of things that per-tain to the religious state. He speaks at length of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and argues their ,387 68.4 2009 Clark ¯ Revisiting Religious Identity necessity for religious perfection. He points out that "a person cannot offer his whole life to God directly because that life is not lived all at once, but only suc-cessively. Hence, a person can only offer his whole life to God through the obligation imposed by vows" (my translation). Thus, our real challenge is not the perfor-mance of heroic acts, however beautiful, however noble, for every human act is by nature transitory. Our real challenge is the heroism of a whole life, offered to God without measure, without reservation, without regret. This is done through religious consecration, through the vows. And in this the entire person, mind and heart, must be involved and permanently involved. Note ' The Vatican translation and the revised Flannery translation, melded. See Lumen gentium, chapter 6, §44: "Regni Dei denique super omnia terrestria elevationem eiusque summas necessitudines peculiari modo patefacit [status religiosus]; supereminentem quoque magnitudi-nem virtutis Christi regnantis atque infinitam Spiritus Sancti potentiam in Ecclesia mirabiliter operantem, cunctis hominibus demonstrat." Ed. 388 Questions for Personal and Group Reflection If religious sisters and brothers are identified with the laity, how do you claim their special religious identity? 2. Has Clark been helpful in underlining aspects of religious identity that distinguish religious life for priests, sisters, and brothers? Would you want to add or subtract anything? Review for Religious LEO J. HERIOT Encounters Early and Late: John Bosco and Paul Saul was present at the stoning of the lov-able Stephen, and perhaps this increased the Pharisee's desire for Christian blood. Fernand Prat says, "Not content with being present at the torture of the victims, he entered into houses and dragged out the inmates, both men and women, to hale them to the dungeons."' Saul set out on the trail of Christians not to evangelize them but in pursuit of them to bring them to what he thought was justice. He had asked the priests to give him the offi-cial mission to seek out Jesus' disciples in the synagogue of Damascus and drag them before the Sanhedrin. In the Acts of the Apostles we have three accounts of the vision on the way to Damascus (9:1-19; 22:3-21; 26:12-20). It is Luke who makes the first announcement of Leo J. Heriot SDB wrote for us about Margaret Bosco in 2007. His address is now Don Bosco House; PMB Government Buildings; Suva, Fiji-Islands. exemplars of faith 389 68.4 2009 Heriot ¯ Encounters Early and Late this event; later we hear Paul giving his own account. The accounts agree on the important points: the occa-sion, the place, the time of day, the dazzling light, Saul's fall to the ground, his dialogue with the mysterious voice, his blindness, the return of his sight, and the total change in his life. From being a firebrand of a persecutor, he became a sower of the Good News of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. The whole change of his behavior, his heeding of the strong voice's words, and his subsequent dedica-tion to a new cause make us aware that he was not led by fanaticism or goaded on by personal ambition. Jesus Christ seized him, pulled him close to himself. From the accounts of this conversion, nothing presaged it, noth-ing hinted that the fierce Pharisee would change regard-ing this person Jesus Christ, changing and becoming a disciple of Jesus and a preeminent apostle. Looking at this conversion, one gets the impression that it is beyond human explanation. It would be folly to try to find some simple plausible human causality. Pauline theology gives pride of place to the empow-erment of grace, and Saul was certainly under the influence of grace. It is not possible to explain this con-version apart from divine grace. Paul helps us with these assertions from his writings: "Have I not seen Jesus, our Lord?" (1 Co 9:1). "Last of all, as one untimely born, he appeared also to me" (1 Co 15:8). Grace found in this man fertile soil that would produce a great extension of the stoW of Jesus, a stoW that would make people aware of the immense, unfolding gift God gave to Saul and to the world on Saul's way to Damascus. Saul's encounter with the risen Lord as he sought to obliterate that Lord's message had a huge influence on him. One of the Apostle's boldest and most profound Review for Religious teachings was that of Christians' being incorporated into Christ's mystical body. For this Pharisee, Paul, Christ becomes all in all; Christ becomes everything. This idea is contained in seminal form in the question Jesus puts to the blinded Saul: "Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?" (Ac 9:4). Paul was not attacking Jesus directly; he was defending his Pharisaism by trying to prevent Jews from falling into the ways of this crucified "reformer" of Judaism. In Saul's conversion God's grace is evident, work-ing a transformation immediately. It is like the blinding flash of light. The extraordinary illumination appar-ently brought about Saul's immediate com-pliance with Jesus' words and his swift transformation into a disciple and apostle. The stunned Saul changed his course once and for all. He found himself in a new world, a world almost alien to the life he had lived until then. Paul was overwhelmed by a new faith, a belief in the person of Jesus Christ as his Lord and master. He began a new and demanding life that only a strong and deep faith and love could sustain. He expresses that faith in his Letters to the Galatians and the Romans, an active faith that revolutionizes the whole person and alters the direction of people's lives. From the moment of his conversion the gaze of Saul is riveted on the person of Jesus Christ. We would go too far, however, if we reduced Paul's life to the moment One of the Apostle's boldest and most profound teachings was that of Christians" being incorporated into Christ's mystical body. 391 68.4 2009 Heriot ¯ Encounters Early and Late of his conversion. His continuing deep reflection on the mystery of God's love strengthened him as he went about his apostolic life. Our beliefs, too, are not simply the result of our reading or reflection, but come from God's communication with us, often in the quiet con-templation of a Divine Master stretching out his hand to us and telling us to find him in our contemplative awareness of others and ourselves. 392f The Boy from Becchi, Another Man of Zeal In an audience on 21 March 1858, Pope Pius IX, now Blessed, told the priest from Turin: "When you get back to Turin, Don Bosco, you write down these dreams and everything else you have told me, minutely, and in their natural sense. Save all this as a legacy for your Congregation so that it may serve as an encouragement and norm for your Sons.''2 After nine years this same pope questioned him once again. Don Bosco's reply was "I truthfully lacked the time. I was so taken with [any number of things]." The pope said, "Well then, I not only advise you, but order you to do it." Don Bosco promised to write down his early experiences, and he kept his word.3 In his poor handwriting Don Bosco scrawled out his first dream. "At the age of nine I had a dream that really changed my life and influenced me throughout my life. I dreamed I was near my house at Becchi, and a crowd of young boys had gathered there to have fun and play games. Some were playing, some were laughing, and not a few were cursing. Shocked by their expres-sions, I jumped in among the boys, swinging wildly and shouting at them to stop saying those things. At that moment a Person appeared among us. He was dressed in a long white robe, and his face radiated such light Review for Religious that I could not look at it. Suddenly he called me by name. 'Giovanni, you have to win these boys not by blows but with gendeness and kindness (bont~). So begin right now to show them that evil is ugly and virtue is beautiful.'" Although these words confused him, this little boy, nine years old in 1824, was being commissioned for God's work. He said, "I am so small and these are young men. What you are asking me to do seems to be impos-sible." But he was told: "What seems so impossible, you must achieve by being obedient and acquiring knowledge." The boy shouted, "You ask me to do the impossible!" The voice said, "I will give you a teacher under whose guid-ance you will learn and without whose help all knowl-edge becomes foolishness." Beside this Person stood the Lady to whom young Bosco's mother had taught him to pray regularly. The Lady, taking his hand, said, "Giovanni, look carefully. What do you see?" The crowd of boys was changed into goats, dogs, cats, bears, and various other animals. The Lady of his dream said to him, startlingly: "This is your field of labor." Then she gave him a one-word recipe for getting these boys to improve: "amorevolezza" (loving concern). The wild animals disappeared, having been turned into sheep. The Lady then told him, "In due time you will understand," and with that she put her hand on his head. At table for morning coffee he told his family about his dream. Each one said something different. His "At the age of nine I had a dream that really changed my life and influenced me throughout my life." 393 68.4 2009 Heriot * Encounters Early and Late brother Joseph said, "Oh, Giovanni, you are going to become a farmer looking after sheep and goats, caring for them." His brother Anthony said, "Oh, Giovanni, you are going to become the leader of a gang of ban-dits!" After other such remarks, their wise old grand-mother said in an authoritarian tone: "Giovanni, take no notice of dreams." And Mama Margaret said con-vincingly, "Prepare yourself, Giovanni, for your future apostolate." This, then, is what Pope Pius IX referred to in 1858 when he told Don Bosco: "This is the begin-ning and the foundation of your work. Give this dream to your Congregation and make it a part of their life." On the road to Damascus, Paul was astonished by the voice that changed his life. It had the power to change his life and send him on a new mission. While any comparison of nine-year-old John Bosco's dream to Paul's experience near Damascus would be lopsided, we may remind ourselves that both of them were impelled into a new life, a new apostolate, by mysterious expe-riences beyond usual explanation. Are there not many other divinely wondrous experiences as well? Why not keep them in mind? Notes ~ Fernand Prat, The Theology of St. Paul (London: Burns and Oates, 1964), p. 25. 2 The Biographical Memoirs ofSaintJohn Bosco, ed. Eugene Ceria SDB (New Rochelle, New York: Salesiana Publishers, 1980), vol. 5, p. 577. 3 Ceria, Biographical Memoirs, vol. 1. pp. 95-96. Review for Religious HILDA KLEIMAN On Hilda of Whitby ~ah~na tIr oennt eorre da tfheea msto dnaayst.e Ir yw, Ia hs ando nt orta cisheodse an Catholic, and I was not named after a saint, though I had a lovely name. After I entered, the prioress asked me to choose a patron, and I chose St. Hilda of Whitby. Initially I hesitated to choose her because, generally speaking, we do not know much about her. We know when she was born and died, where she lived, and some of the activities she pursued, activities for which she was well known and respected. But we know little about her character, her spirit, or her inner life. How did the tone of a gathering change when she walked into a room? How did she regard those whose lives and souls were entrusted to her care? Was her glance warm or cool? Did she have a glint in her eye? Answers to these ques-tions seemed permanently unavailable. A few months after I entered my community, I attended a concert given by Festival Chorale Oregon, Hilda Kleiman OSB writes from Queen of Angels Monastery; 840 S. Main Street; Mt. Angel, Oregon 97362. Email: ajkjune@juno.com 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Wbitby a local, award-winning choir directed by Dr. Solveig Holmquist. I had been a student in her college choir for three years at Western Oregon University. I was excited to see her again, even from a distance, even from the back as she conducted the choir. When she entered the concert hall, she was as I had remembered--not tall or physically imposing, yet filled with a presence that shot through her spiky hair, her sharp eyes, and her earrings and many bracelets. I saw a woman in full possession of herself and the situation at hand. She stood before the choir and the orchestra, and they knew what to do sim-ply by the movements of her hands and a thin baton. I remembered standing before her with my eyes on every move she made. In every gesture, every expression, she embodied musician and conductor. She made the vocalists and musicians one as we let her lead us--as, with our minds but also our hearts, we let her be our breath to the very last note. When Dr. Holmquist arrived at Western, she had clearly learned how to draw people together. Shortly after being hired, she was told there were no students at Western who could really sing. Given that this was untrue, and even uncharitable, Dr. Holmquist did not listen. She simply set up a table at the activities fair at the beginning of the school year and started signing students up for auditions. By the end of the year, she had set the choral music program on its feet, doubling the size of the choir, planning tours, and establishing a student-led choir council. I began to see that music was Dr. Holmquist's life, and part of that life was invit-ing the rest of us into the music in whatever way was appropriate for each of us. I loved her for it, and I still do. Though I do not think I would have used the word at the time, I see now Review for Religious that what I received from Dr. Holmquist was a deep and vigorous image of vocation. I have no doubt that through the music she is doing what God created her to do. Shortly before I graduated, I tried to say as much to her. In her office one morning, I described what I saw in her. I said I was not a born musician like her, but rather a writer and a reader, and I was looking for my own purpose in life. The day I attended the Festival Chorale concert was November 17th, the feast day of St. Hilda, and the first time I observed her feast day as my own. As I watched and remembered Dr. Holmquist, some of the reasons why I choose Hilda began to emerge. It was not about wanting to be an abbess as Hilda was, any more than it was about wanting to be a cho- , ral conductor. It was not about imitation in such a specific sense, but about living in the presence of someone who could play a part in calling me to be who I am supposed to be and to do what I am meant to do. It was about the profound effect just one person who is living her vocation may have on those around her. If I imagined myself as a member of Hilda's monastery, much as I had been a member of Dr. Holmquist's choir, what could I learn about who I am supposed to be here and now? It was about the profound effect just one person who is living her vocation may have on those around her. 397 The Venerable Bede, an English monk and writer of the 8th century, is our sole source of historical infor- 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Wbitby marion on Hilda. After serving as the abbess of several monasteries, she established at Whitby a double monas-tery, a community of monks and nuns. In his history of the English church, Bede tells us she taught those within her community to study the Scriptures thoroughly, to observe good works, and to foster many virtues, "but especially peace and charity." In part, the influence of her goodness was seen in the five outstanding men from her monastery who became bishops. In addition to her own monks and nuns, others from all walks of society sought her direction. In this way Hilda, "whom all her acquaintances called Mother because of her wonderful devotion and grace," guided many people to God along the path of their particular gifts and circumstances. Bede also gives us the story of Caedmon, a shy sheep-herder whom "God's grace made remarkable." One night Caedmon received a vision from God in which a man asked him to compose and sing him a song. Caedmon answered that he could not sing, and the man replied "But you shall sing to me," and he did, thus becom-ing the first poet of the English language. When Hilda learned of Caedmon's gift, she invited him to become a monk and be instructed in sacred history, which he then rendered into beautiful music and poetry. Caedmon soon became not just a poet but a disciplined and beloved member of the community as well. At his death he asked if there were any who held any ill will against him, and he was assured that there was not. When then asked if he was at peace with those attending him, he replied, "I am at peace with all the servants of God." Among well-known events of church history, Whitby is known as the site of the synod in 664 at which the controversy between the Celtic and Roman dates for observing Easter was resolved. The problem disturbed Review for Religious many people, Bede tells us, even to the point that they feared "that they might have received the name Christian in vain." Those arguing for the Roman date were victo-rious, yet Bede describes Hilda and her community as favoring the Celtic practice. While he tells us the results of the synod, Bede does not describe Hilda's response to the decision. We do not know if in the end she was saddened, relieved, or pleased. From what we do know about her leadership, however, we can perhaps assume that many looked to Hilda for guidance as to how they should respond to this decision. We can see the great respect she had for the Scriptures and the wisdom of the church. We can see that she taught those around her to be of service in all peace and charity. Even as she neared her death, she urged those in her monastery to "maintain the gospel peace among themselves and with others." I imagine that Hilda had a profound sense of perspective, of knowing, in the end, which beliefs and practices held priority. Unity within the church mat-tered more than any particular date, and gracious accep-tance of the decision of the synod mattered more than the content of the arguments. I was aware of St. Hilda before I was a Catholic because I attended St. Hilda's Episcopal Church for sev-eral years during high school and college. St. Hilda's is a small community; the church holds perhaps fifty peo-ple on a Sunday. I met the vicar, Noel Knelange, when I first arrived, and about a year later Noel's husband Bill was ordained a deacon. I attended the ordination and sang in the choir, helping to lead the congregation out of the church singing "The King's Highway" for the recessional. During the service I was taken aback 399 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Whitby Bill's ordination gave me the image of dedicating one's life to God alone, and Noel, bluntly and without~ pretense; connected ~that image, to me, 400] by the beauty of the liturgy and the fact that Bill was grounding his life and identity in his faith. Somehow God wanted him. God wanted exactly who Bill was, a middle-aged man, a deaf man deeply involved with the deaf community of the diocese, a man who loved to fish so much that during the homily the bishop gave him a new fishing pole, now that he would be a fisher of men. Afterwards, during the reception in the parish hall, I was standing near Bill and Noel, probably eating a cookie, when Noel turned to me and said, "Well, you could do this too you know!" What? I did not want to be a deacon or a priest. I did not understand why she said that, and we never talked about it later. I forgot about Noel's words until after I had become a Catholic and been a member of the Benedictine Sisters of Mt. Angel, Oregon, for several years--even though I had often wondered when the thought of becoming a nun first came to me. Bill's ordination gave me the image of dedicating one's life to God alone, and Noel, bluntly and without pretense, connected that image to me. The seed of the idea of staking everything on "the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen," as we read in the Letter to the Hebrews, was planted and would take root in ways I never suspected. Just a few years Review for Religious later, I was led to the Catholic Church, to a Benedictine monastery, and to a surprising new relationship with St. Hilda, a relationship reflected in women like Solveig Holmquist and Noel Knelange. Regardless of whether they were aware of all the details, they could and would change the course of a life in a single breath, with a single word. The name Hilda comes from the Old English and means "Battle Maiden," a fact I learned only after I received the official word from .the prioress that I could take Hilda as my new name at my final profession. I took to the image of the Battle Maiden immediately--the tension between toughness and gentleness, knowledge and innocence, between what we think we know and what we in fact do not, a tension not to be resolved but used as ingeniously as possible until the day of death. Other people have taken to my choice of the name Hilda, to the "Batde Maiden" too. "Battle on, maiden!" says my mom before she hangs up the phone. After ask-ing me to explain the meaning of Hilda to my class-mates, one of my seminary professors warns that "from now on, you gendemen better look out!" The best, how-ever, is my friend Ania. With her I have established The Society of Honorary Battle Maidens. We have taken as our charter the words of St. Paul to the Corinthians: "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, to show that the transcendent power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed, perplexed, but not driven to despair, persecuted, but not forsaken, struck down, but not destroyed, always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies." To bet- 401 68.4 2009 Kleiman ¯ On Hilda of Wbitby ter understand our society, I have listed qualities of the Battle Maiden, which include the following and will surely be added to as I ponder this further: ¯ A persistent love, grounded in the love of God that pursues us without end. She can keep extending her love for other people, regardless of how they respond, if at all. If she feels hurt by this, she takes it to mean that her efforts were not the most gracious way to love this particular person, and it is time to try something else. She is intelligent, so her persistence does not suggest beating her head against a wall, but rather keeping her wits about her and being willing, always willing, to try again. ¯ The beginning of an understanding of the fourth step of humility in the Rule of St. Benedict: "The fourth step of humility is that, in this obedience under diffi-cult, unfavorable, or even unjust conditions, his [or her] heart quietly embraces suffering and endures it without weakening or seeking escape." She does not, in the end, resent that this step asks her to endure injustice, even contradiction, for the sake of the God she loves. She accepts that sometimes such endurance will require her to speak her mind, to name what is difficult, recognizing that endurance can be more than just waiting for the bad to run its course. Bravery of heart becomes part of her core. She understands that false sisters and broth-ers (and are not we all false and contradictory at one time or another) are part of reality; to deny this is of no use to anyone. She uses their words and actions to strengthen her reliance on the Lord so that it remains possible for her to pray for her enemies. ¯ An enduring kindness that she tries to exercise in any situation, par.ticularly in her words. At times, she may manifest her kindness in ways that are more tra- Review for Religious ditionally recognized as kindness--offering to lend a hand in household tasks, greeting guests with courtesy and assisting them in their needs, acknowledging the accomplishments of others with a sincere compliment. Kindness, however, is also needed in more challenging situations. It is a kindness to try to change the sub-ject when she hears murmuring or gossip about some-one who is not present. It is a kindness to walk away and not participate even by listening when this tactic fails, perhaps biting back the words rising in her throat that she would like to put everyone in their place with. Kindness calls her to address only in private any embar-rassing situations that involve another person, so as not to worsen the pain her words would likely cause if spo-ken publicly. To enjoy membership in The Society of Honorary Battle Maidens, you and I do not need to be in full possession of these qualities. We do need, however, to recognize their worth and strive to live with their inher-ent tensions, tensions that in the end are simply the tensions of the cross. Image Bearer One of a kind, Here for a reason, Plucked from the mire, Now wearing white, Bearing His likeness, I am immortal, A soul crafted By the Holy. Teresa Burleson 403 68.4 2009 Vv'ILLIAM PROSPERO World Youth Day and Religious Life sharing experience 40_4] Many vocation directors will confirm that a substantial number of candidates for seminar-ies and institutes of consecrated life consider a World Youth Day (WYD) experience to have been an important part of their discernment. Many candidates say they first thought seri-ously about religious life or the priesthood while on a WYD pilgrimage. What is it about WYD that promotes consecrated life? Sister Joseph Andrew, of the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist, asked me to speak about this very topic at a recent discernment retreat at the motherhouse in Ann Arbor. No less than a hundred 'thirty young women attended. When I asked how many had been to WYD, about one third raised their hands. The main reason for "only" a third, I William Prospero SJ is pastor of St. Mary's University Parish (on the campus of Central Michigan University); 1405 South Washington; Mount Pleasant, Michigan 48858. Emaih will.prospero@stmarycmu.org Review for Religious believe, is that most of them were too young to have attended any other WYD than the one in 2008 in Sydney, Australia. Sydney did not draw huge numbers from the United States because of the travel cost. Nonetheless, many of the young women present had managed to attend that WYD. I believe there are several reasons why WYD pro-motes consecrated life and priesthood. Though I do not have any statistical analysis to prove my points, I have a wealth of experience assisting young WYD pil-grims in their discernment about consecrated life or priesthood. I have attended four WYDs: Denver (1993), Toronto (2002), Cologne (2005), and Sydney (2008). I have served as a priest on the last three. I have wit-nessed more than ten pilgrims enter religious life or the seminary. The main reason, I believe, for the wealth of WYD vocations is that WYD gives a taste of life as a conse-crated person. Pilgrims experience about two weeks of consecrated living. WYD provides a veritable "trial run" of living the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. In. living the vows on WYD, pilgrims experience the intense joy of the universal church gathered around the pope. They make the connection that living as a religious could be enjoyable and meaningful. The possibility of consecrated vocation becomes real for the first time in many pilgrims' lives. Pilgrims experience poverty the first day of com-mitting to go on WYD. They realize that the costs can be high. As I began recruiting for Sydney, I recall sev-eral students resisting, sa.ying $2,850 was too costly. My response was: "Do you want to go? Has God put this desire in your heart? If so, then commit and the money will come. I promise. And, if not, I will personally cover 405 68.4 2OO9 Prospero ¯ World Youth Day and Religious Life Trusting God for material needs is a tangible experience of religious poverty. 406 whatever you can't. But you must promise you will com-mit to this and try your best to raise the funds. I prom-ise you, God will provide." Every pilgrim had enough funds. On four WYDs I have never met a pilgrim who fell short of funds. For the 2008 WYD in Sydney, we took seventy pilgrims from the Diocese of Saginaw, each paying $2,850. There are stories of pilgrims finding funds flow-ing in from fund-raisers and from the most unexpected sources. Trusting God for material needs is a tangible experience of reli-gious poverty: God provides. Pilgrims trust him, and all works out. From the beginning, they learn that those who commit to a reli-gious pilgrimage are cared for by God. They learn this throughout WYD, beginning with their first moment of commitment. Poverty finds many manifestations, usually very inconvenient ones. As the pilgrimage officially begins, I speak of the "great ball of suffering" that one endures on WYD. For some reason, chaos and inconvenience reign. This makes trusting God mandatory, not optional. For example, because of delayed flights, our travel time from our departure to our host parish in Kiama, south of Sydney, was thirty-eight hours. And the last two hours were in a bus with a broken heater (it was winter there) while rain and forty Fahrenheit degrees of damp cold were welcoming us. These horrendous situations created the proper spirit in which to celebrate Mass, Revie;v for Religious namely, our sense of spiritual and actual poverty: "We are not in control!" Having celebrated Mass at a crowded boarding gate in the Los Angeles airport (LAX), we found special meaning in celebrating Mass again, hungry and cold, at the very end of our trip. I was reminded of the four thousand hungry and tired people in Mark 6:1-8 who were worn out from their journey, so Jesus fed them. It was as if Jesus intentionally brought the people out to a deserted place to experience their poverty and to see and taste the goodness of God. Poverty makes pilgrims hungry for Jesus. Another example of poverty happened at the Papal Welcome at Sydney's harbor. Afterwards we were hun-gry and cold. Several pilgrims collected our chits or tickets and got our meals, bags of hot stew (option: beef or pork). After getting the same victuals several days in a row, pilgrims were cheerfully dubbing them "barf bags." Our meals were being eaten on the ground or on cement blocks or wherever we could prop ourselves up. One night, however, several alert pilgrims found some plastic chairs and brought enough over for the group of seventy to sit. We could sit and eat! We were so grate-ful. I cannot recall ever feeling so grateful for having a chair to sit on. This is what WYD does: it makes the ordinary into a gift from God. Once one begins to see that everything, everything, is a gift, then one can start living a radical Christian life. So the gift of sitting, eat-ing, enjoying each other's company, and basking in the reality that we just saw in person the Vicar of Christ, all add up to an explosive experience of the joys of the kingdom. Poverty makes human experience more real, and opens us to the true value of community. How sim-ple and uncomplicated it all is. 407 68.4 2009 Prospero ¯ Worm Youth Day and Religious Life Over and over one witnesses pilgrims making sacrifices for the sake of the group. 4081 If pilgrims are properly prepared and guided, they have a wonderful experience of interacting positively with the opposite sex. Even sleeping conditions, oth-erwise inappropriate, become an experience of intense respect and honor of boundaries. One sees the "other" as sacred and as a fellow pilgrim on the way, some-one to be honored and respected. I have never known of any of our pil-grims engaging in actions that are meant for mar-ried couples. Sleeping shoulder to shoulder with two thousand other pilgrims may seem cause for temptation and raised eyebrows, but never have I seen anything but excellent moral behavior among our pilgrims. Even where there are dating couples, they hardly ever "pair off" from the group. The whole atmosphere is one of intense commu-nal living. People are attentive to the needs of everyone, sharing and caring for one another. The pilgrim learns that one does not need to pursue or engage in roman-tic relationships to be happy. Celibacy for the kingdom becomes tangible, livable, and enjoyable. At WYD the intense communal activities, which sometimes involve distressing conditions and both-ersome inconveniences that must be endured, build a joyful esprit de corps. Over and over one witnesses pilgrims making sacrifices for the sake of the group. Opportunities for minor sacrifices abound, such as shar-ing personal items to assist another in need and collect-ing meal tickets and standing in line to retrieve meals for a group. These and other sacrifices reveal acom- Review for Religious mon care for one another. Moreover, the group lead-ers have the ultimate say in all major decisions about travel, gatherings, agendas, and special needs that arise. Individual wills give way to the group, or to the lead-ers' decisions. Through these experiences one finds joy in sacrificing one's own will for the good of the group, opening up to the gift of religious obedience. Consecrated persons make a sacrifice of their lives for the good of the church and the world. Pilgrims experience the power of loving sacrifice firsthand, and its power to build up the Body of Christ. Eddie Dwyer, a Saginaw seminarian, said: "Three things I hate are lines, sitting on the floor, and crowded spaces, but the love at WYD made sacrifice easy." All these experiences find rich meaning in the cel-ebration of the sacraments, namely, confession and Eucharist. The intensity of confessions, celebrations of Holy Mass, and Eucharistic adoration affirms God's real presence among his people. All the sufferings and joys of pilgrimage are offered up to the Father in the won-derful exchange of gifts that the Eucharist makes real. All is gift. As a priest I am overwhelmed by the power and joy of the priesthood, by the sacramental fruitful-ness on WYD. What power can be manifested in such weakness! The Papal Mass at the conclusion of WYD provides the perfect environment for the overflowing gratitude of the pilgrimage to express itself. Pilgrims, freshly and deeply aware of God's goodness, gratefully share their belongings with others. Jackets, caps, and an assortment of other personal items are offered and received in a wonderful exchange of gifts. God's kingdom becomes visible in everyone giving their things away to bring joy to both receiver and giver. In his Spiritual Exercises 409 68.4 2009 Prospero ¯ Worm Youth Day and Religious Life St. Ignatius Loyola speaks of the free exchange of gifts between those who love each other (§231). This is the Christian life. As church and bride of Christ, we receive every good thing from God and make an offering of our very selves back to him in gratitude. This joyous exchange finds particular power at the Papal Mass. The accumulation and possession of .things no longer has appeal. The giving and receiving of love becomes the reason for existing. Consecrated life witnesses to the joy of the kingdom of heaven through the. gift of self to God. The Papal Mass provides a taste of the joy offered to those who radically take up the call to follow Christ the Bridegroom wherever he goes. As I lead pilgrims to WYD, I make a point of having several priests, seminarians, and religious sisters accom-pany us. When lay pilgrims rub shoulders with conse-crated persons, consecrated life now has a face, and that face is familiar and human. No longer is the question of consecrated life somewhere off in the distance, but it is real and lived by real people. The possibility of consecrated vocation opens up as the joys of serving the kingdom find witness. I count WYD the single most important vocation promotion ministry that I do. 410 Review for Religious BENNY PHANG Marriage and Celibacy: Rivals or Complements? MMarriage and celibacy are often seen as contraries. isunderstanding about these two vocations still exists among many people who do not fully under-stand celibacy for the sake of the kingdom of heaven or the meaning of marriage. They see marriage as con-trary to celibacy, totally separated from it, and unable to contribute anything to it. And they understand celibacy as merely a pessimistic, negative rejection of married life and love. They even think celibacy is responsible for many sexual problems. About these matters people raise critical questions such as: Is marriage contrary to celibacy or even a rival? Is marriage a higher and better state than celibacy, or is it the other way around? Does marriage confirm celibacy or devalue it? If marriage confirms celibacy, how does it do so? Benny Phang OCarm, an Indonesian priest studying at the Angelicum for a doctorate in moral theology, can be addressed at Centro Internazionale Sant'Alberto; Via Sforza Pallavicini, 10; 00193 Roma, Italy. Blog: theouiosoter.blogspot.com 411 68.4 2009 Pbang ¯ Marriage and Celibacy On this topic I want to draw some reflections from the messages of Pope John Paul II (collected in Theology of the Body), from the critical reflection on celibacy in the Catholic Church written by Aloysius Pieris sJ, and from the experience of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux of her vocation to religious life. Marriage and celibacy, are interrelated. To hurt either one by being unfaithful in it also hurts the other. 412- Rival Vocations? In the Gospel according to Matthew, Jesus places the counsel of celibacy in the discussion of the impor-tance of marriage, when he argues against divorce (Mt 19:3-12). Pope John Paul confirms this, saying, "[From Matthew's Gospel, Mt 19:10-12], it can be seen sufficiently clearly that here it is not a question of diminishing the value of matrimony in favor of continence, nor of less-ening the value of one in comparison with the other.''1 "Christ's words on this point are quite clear. He proposes to his disciples the ideal of continence and the call to it, not by reason of the inferiority of, or of prejudice against, conjugal union in the body, but only for the sake of the kingdom of heaven.''2 One can, however, argue for St. Paul's position when he writes, "So then, he who marries his fiancee does well; and he who refrains from marriage will do better" (1 Co 7:38). Does this Pauline text not mean that mat-rimony is good, but celibacy for the kingdom of heaven is better?3 Review for Religious We need to comprehend the reason for celibacy in the evangelical counsel. Jesus says, "There are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can" (Mt 19:12). This is the only reason for the evangelical counsel of celibacy. The reason is not to devalue marriage, but for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. To understand the "difference" between Jesus and Paul as regards celibacy and marriage, John Paul gives us an insight: In his pronouncement, did Christ perhaps suggest the superiority of continence for the kingdom of heaven to matrimony? Certainly he said that this is an excep-tional vocation, not a common one. In addition he affirmed that it is especially important and necessary to the kingdom of heaven. If we understand superiority to matrimony in this sense, we must admit that Christ set it out implicitly. However, he did not express it direcdy. Only Paul will say of those who choose matri-mony that they do "well." About those who are willing to live in voluntary continence, he will say that they do "better" (! Co 7:38). (Theology, p. 275) The conscious and voluntary renunciation of the conjugal love of marriage and family life by celibate per-sons is not a devaluation of marriage, but it is a form of self-sacrifice. John Paul explains: "Christ understood the importance of such a sacrifice . He understood the

Issue 67.3 of the Review for Religious, 2008. ; LiVing Spiritually Being Mentored Praying Revisiti:ng Religious Life QUARTERLY 67 3 2008 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according ~ to Charisms of Catholic religious life, As Pope Paul Vl said, our way.of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ \Veh 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 Josephinu,n 7625 North High Street ¯ Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religiou~ ¯ RO. 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 libraryI clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All l 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 collectivd 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 SVD QUARTERLY 67.3 2008 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 240 living spiritually Holy Spirit Spirituality James W. Kinn draws upon the Gospel and Acts of St. Luke and the Gospel of St. John to show how these might lead to an effective spirituality of the Spirit in our lives, A Charity Spirituality for Educators Judith Metz SC explores ways in which the special virtues of the Charity family (humility, simplicity, charity) offer educators guidelines to greater personal spiritual depth and an enriching way of being present in an educational environment. 226 255 266 being mentored St. Th6r~se's Contribution to the Catechism Joseph E Schmidt FSC reflects on the citations of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux found in the Catechism 6f the Catholic Church, particularly emphasizing her contribution to the understanding of prayer. DeSales' ~sion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life Alexander T. Pocetto OSFS presents Francis de Sales' understanding of consecrated life, especially modeled in the Visitation, to give us a deeper appreciation of its relevance to the life and work of the church today. Re'view for Religious 281 286 praying Christian Prayer's Trinitarian Shape John Carroll Futrell SJ weaves together many scripture passages to demonstrate how, consciously or not, Christian prayer has a Trinitarian shape to it. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Midnight Prayer in the Ignatian Exercises Philip Shano SJ proposes that we take a fresh look at what benefits a "midnight meditation" can have for a person in retreat. 290 3O4 revisiting religious life ~ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience Bernard J. Lee SM presents the importance of relational power, the power of the weak, and a meticulous discernment in forming the social matrix of religious obedience. Of Tabernacles and Televisions Patricia McCarthy CND challenges religious to reflect on the importance of the presence of the Blessed Sacrament in their home lives today. Group Reflection / Discussion departments 317 Scripture Scope: St. Paul's Corinthian Correspondence 322 Canonical Counsel: The Lacuna Canon: Equity and Practice 327 Book Reviews 227 67.3 2008 prisms 228 T feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary is celebrated on the last day of the month of May. It may seem to be just a timely liturgical setting between the feast of the Annunciation and the feast of the Birth of John the Baptist. But on closer examination, the content of the feast seems to set a direction for our Christian living throughout these middle months of the church's liturgical year. What we celebrate is the simple event nar-rated in Luke's Gospel about Mary's hastening to help her cousin Elizabeth in the latter months of her pregnancy--a fact which Mary had learned about through the message of the angel Gabriel. It is more than a pleasant visit of relatives. We signify something more by our use of the word visitation. Visitation has a purpose. There is a certain expectation that a visitation is meant to accomplish something. The meeting between par-ties at the time of a visitation has a significance. A meaning of some import is attributed to this encounter. For Elizabeth the very greeting of Mary upon her arrival causes a special stirring in her womb. Elizabeth is inspired by the Spirit to recognize the early pregnancy of Mary, hardly visible to the human, eye. Moreover her faith professes the specialness of Mary, her cousin, by proclaiming that she is "blessed among women." Somehow the leap of the baby within her womb led Elizabeth Review for Religious to proclaim that this baby in its first formation in Mary's womb is truly the blessed One. For Elizabeth, the simple appearance of Mary saying "Here I am" produces such an explosion of faith--an extraordinary moment of spiritual consolation. For Mary, Elizabeth's profusion of faith is like a warm-ing confirmation of all that the angel had told her. She truly is highly favored by God. Her fiat allowed God to find a human home within her. Mary's own faith was so strength-ened by Elizabeth's words that she could only break forth in her own prayer of praise of God. Mary was the first to realize what it really means to bring God to another. Why do we recall this event with our special celebra-tion? What appears to be just a simple helpful visit between two cousins--mothers-to-be--sets a tone and direction for each one of us in our Christian vocation. For us it is meant to be more than just a celebration of an event, however special this event is for Mary and for Elizabeth. We are led to reflect on all the "visits" in our life--how we are being called to make each one of them a visitation. Like Elizabeth, do we find ourselves "blessed" by all the people who appear, unexpectedly or not, in the doorways of our lives? Do we allow ourselves to find God actively working in their lives and ours? Does the ordinary everyday interaction call forth in us a leap of faith that consoles us deeply? Like Mary, do we find that we truly are the "bearers of God" in the simple everyday give-and-take of human conversation? Are we continually in amazement that God desires to work through us in so many effective ways? Looking back on each day's incidents, do we experience a quiet gratitude, a desire to praise the God who chooses to shine out through the limitations of our all-too-human words and actions? David L. Fleming SJ 229 67.3 2008 JAMES W. KINN Holy Spirit Spirituality living spiritually 230 "Perhaps the most neglected area of theology in the West is that of the Holy Spirit," says George Montague.1 He sees an urgent need for such a theology. In 1983 Raymond Brown, the great scripture scholar, noted "an almost total absence of comprehensive books on the Spirit in the New Testament.''2 Pope John Paul urged: "The ecclesiology of the [Second Vatican] Council must be succeeded by a new study of and devotion to the Holy Spirit, precisely as the indispensable complement of the teaching of the council.''3 Recently some efforts have been made to fill this vacuum.4 The present article offers a description of the two dominant pneumatologies found in the New Testament and hopes to show how these might lead to an effective spirituality of the Spirit in our lives. Let us begin with the way the New Testament speaks about Jesus. The synoptic James W. Kitm, an actively retired diocesan priest, wrote about John of the Cross in our 66.2 (2007) issue. His address is 6318 243rd Court; Salem, Wisconsin 53168. Review for Religious Gospels all depict Jesus as imbued with the Holy Spirit, who is the divine influence in his life and ministry. Luke, especially, presents a consistent Spirit Christology in narrative form.5 That is, when he speaks of Jesus as the unique Son of God, as the long-awaited Messiah, and as Savior of the world, he generally refers to the Holy Spirit's influence on him. He describes God's presence and power in Jesus' life in terms of the Spirit. God as Spirit is dynamically active in Jesus in a unique way. We are familiar with the way John's Gospel speaks about Jesus as the revelation of God. The prologue describes Jesus as God's Word (Jn 1:1-14). God as Word "comes down" and is embodied in the person and min-istry of Jesus. This Word is the manifestation of God in history. The rest of John's Gospel does not speak of this "Word," but it presents Jesus as the definitive wisdom and revelation of God. The Wisdom of God, prominent in the wisdom books of the Old Testament, is repre-sented and even personified in Jesus and his teaching.6 John's Gospel presents Jesus as the light of the world, as the whole truth to be believed, and as the visual image of God: "Whoever has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). These two ways of describing Jesus in the Gospels are paralleled by the two ways of understanding the Holy Spirit. The New Testament teaches that God is present and active in his Holy Spirit, so that all Christians may know God, love God, and be inspired to follow Jesus. Again we will follow Luke and John. Luke's Theology of the Spirit Just as Luke's Gospel presents the Spirit as the energy present and active in Jesus, so in the Acts of the Aposdes, beginning with Pentecost, Luke shows the Spirit as pres- 231 67.3 2008 Kinn ¯ Holy Spirit Spirituality ent in and empowering the early church. At the end of his Gospel, Luke relates the promise of Jesus to his apos-des: "I am sending the promise of my Father upon you; but stay in the city until you are clothed with the power from on high" (Lk 24:49). At the beginning of Acts, Jesus says: "Wait for the promise of the Father about which you have heard me speak; for., in a few days you will be bap-tized with the Holy Spirit" (Ac 1:4-5). Thus Jesus teaches that the Spirit is the power to be given to the apostles and the dynamic principle of their role as wit-nesses of "the way" of salvation through faith in him. Then Jesus summarizes the whole mission of the apostles and the work of the Spirit in them: "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, throughout Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth" (Ac 1:8). The Spirit will inspire them to be witnesses to Jesus, starting in Jerusalem and continuing all over the world. Luke follows this paradigm throughout Acts, mention-ing the Spirit fifty-seven times. Because of that frequent reference to the Spirit, some would like to characterize this book as the Acts of the Spirit. Consider how effectively Luke describes the Spirit's work in Acts. First, the Holy Spirit empowers the dis- Just as Luke's Gospel presents the Spirit as the energy present, and active in Jesus, so in the Acts of the Apostles Luke shows the Spirit as present in and empowering the early church. 232 Review for Religious ciples to witness to Jesus: "We are witnesses of these things, as is the Holy Spirit who is given to [us]" (Ac 5:32). The Spirit inspires the early believers to speak in tongues and to prophesy: "They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in different tongues, as the Spirit enabled them to proclaim" (Ac 2:4). Then the Spirit comes upon the new believers in Jerusalem: "They were all filled with the Holy Spirit and contin-ued to speak the word of God with boldness" (Ac 4:31). Next Peter and John are sent to Samaria to lay hands on the newly baptized: "Then they laid hands on them and they received the Holy Spirit" (Ac 8:17). The Spirit also marks out the first new assistants (deacons) as those "filled with the Holy Spirit" (Ac 6:3). The Spirit directs individual missionaries: Philip (Ac 8:29-39), Peter (Ac 10:19-20), and Paul (Ac 20:22). In Paul's case the Spirit directs him again and again (Ac 20:23). Also the Gentile converts are specifically seen as inspired by the Spirit: "The Holy Spirit fell upon all who were listening to the word. [The Jews] were astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit should have been poured out on the Gentiles also" (Ac 10:44-45). Later the Spirit selects Barnabas and Paul for the mission to Cyprus: "The Holy Spirit said, 'Set apart for me Barnabas and Saul for the work to which I have called them'" (Ac 13:2- 4). Then, in the Council of Jerusalem, the Spirit inspires their decisions: "It is the decision of the Holy Spirit and of us." ( Ac 15:28). Finally, the Spirit continues to aid the "overseers" in tending the flock: "Keep watch over. ¯ the whole flock of which the Holy Spirit has appointed you as overseers" (Ac 20:28). Let me draw some conclusions. The constant inspi-ration and guidance of the Holy Spirit is the distinguish-ing feature of Lukan ecclesiology. Luke's pneumatology 233 67.3 2008 Kinn ¯ Holy Spirit Spirituality flows from his Spirit Christology. This pneumatology can be most effective for our Christian life and spiritu-ality. It can easily be understood by modern Catholics, because it begins with the historical person of Jesus as seen in the synoptics; what we naturally see there is an integral human being, Jesus, who is empowered by God's Spirit to accomplish our redemption. This pneu-matology can be very appealing to us because it shows the continuity between the Spirit's empowering Jesus and the Spirit of Jesus empowering us. Finally, with this Spirit theology, we can easily see a parallel in our Christian lives. God's Spirit dwells in us by grace in such a way as to empower us to live after the model of the Spirit-driven Jesus (Mk 1:12). 234 John's Theology of the Spirit Let us begin with John's Christology. The prologue of John's Gospel presents Jesus as the Word, the Logos, the Verbum. After this, chapters 1-13 present Jesus as "the truth," the "light of the world," the wisdom of God. To know him is to know the Father (Jn 8:20); to see him is to see the Father (In 14:9). John's Christology might be summarized by saying that Jesus is the revela-tion of God, the human expression of God. Then in chapters 14 to 16 John's Jesus promises the disciples a "new Advocate" (Jn 14:16). Jesus himself is their original Advocate: "We have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ (1 Jn 2:1), and now he promises the Spirit as an Advocate who will take his place and "be with [them] always" (Jn 14:16). Jesus even makes this assertion: "I tell you the truth, it is better for you that I go. For, if I do.not go, the Advocate will not come to you. But if I go I will send him to you" On 16:7). The disciples will somehow be better off after he has left Review for Religious them and sent them the Holy Spirit as their permanent Advocate. We can understand Jesus' amazing assertion here by considering the five Paraclete sayings in chap-ters 14 to 16. 1. "I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always, the Spirit of truth, [who] remains with you and will be in you" (Jn 14:16-17). Here Jesus sets out the entire work of the Paraclete in his followers. He says that the Paraclete will dwell with them permanently as a new presence of Jesus in all of them. The meaning of this immanence is that there is a permanent spiritual status for all who believe in Jesus, and he assigns this divine immanence to the Spirit/Paraclete. 2. "The Advocate, the holy Spirit, that the Father will send in my name--he will teach you everything and remind you of all that I told you" (Jn 14:25-26). To "teach" in John is practically a verb of revelation, but the Spirit will not bring a new revelation: "He will not speak on his own, but he will speak what he hears . He will take from what is mine and declare it to you" (Jn 16:13-14). In John the teaching 0f Jesus contains all that the disciples need to know, all the revelation of God. The proper function of the Spirit of Jesus, then, is to make them understand Jesus' teaching clearly. Jesus promises that the Advocate "will remind you of all that I told you." Often, in John's Gospel, Jesus promises that later--after the resurrection--the disciples will remem- In John the teaching of Jesus contains all that the disciples need to know, all the revelation of God. 67.3 2008 Kinn ¯ Holy Spirit Spirituality ber what he told them and come to understand it (see Jn 2:22; 12:16; 13:7, 19; 14:19-20, 29; 15:20-21, 26; 16:4, 12- 13). He means that they will understand the deep mystery of redemption (through suffering and death) only after they have known his passion. These functions of the Spirit of Jesus, teaching and reminding, are also meant for us. Pope John Paul affirmed this: "The promise is not limited to the aposdes and their immediate companions . It extends to the future generations of disciples . of Christ.''7 3. "When the Advocate comes., the Spirit of truth that proceeds from the Father, he will testify about me. And you also will testify" (Jn 15:26-27). This will not be two sources of testimony, but only one; the Spirit will encourage the disciples internally to witness to Christ. When they experience opposition from the world, the Spirit of truth will work within their hearts to strengthen them in their own faith and provide them with unshakable confidence. 4. "[When the Advocate] comes, he will convict the world in regard to sin and righteousness and condemna-tion; sin, because they do not believe in me; righteous-ness, because I am going to the Father and you will no longer see me; condemnation, because the ruler of this world has been condemned" (Jn 16:8-11). In John's Gospel, there is no mention of formal public trials and judges (as are mentioned in Mt 10:17-18 and Mk 13:9). Rather Jesus' concern here seems to be for the same theological conflict that characterized his public life, namely, the great opposition between him and the world, the struggle for and against Jesus. Specifically here the Paraclete will prove to the disciples that the world is guilty of sin, the basic sin that consists in refus-ing to believe in Jesus. This sin is described often in John's Gospel (Jn 3:19; 9:41; 12:37; 15:22-24). Review for Religious The disciples will continue this contest against the unbelieving world, and the Paraclete will be their "coun-sel for the defense" to prove the world guilty of disbe-lief in God and his Word. The Spirit will also witness against the world to prove the world wrong about righ-teousness or justice, by showing that Jesus, whom it judged guilty, was really innocent and just. The final element in the Paraclete's witness against the world is condemnation, that is, proof that in condemning Jesus the world itself was judged. For, in the person of the Paraclete, Jesus is still present after his death; so, if Jesus' passion repre-sented the confrontation of Jesus and the prince of this world (Jn 12:31; 14:30), then Jesus' victory over death is also his victory over the prince of this world (see 1 Jn 4:3-4; 5:4-5). 5. "The Spirit of truth., will guide you to all truth; ¯. he will speak what he hears, and will declare to you the things that are coming" (Jn 16:12-13). The func-tions of the Paraclete here are similar to those in John 14:26, that is, to teach and to call to mind, but they are further developed here, especially by the addition of two phrases. The phrase "guide you to all truth" (or "guide you along the way of all truth," as in the Anchor Bible) seems to include more than a deeper intellectual under-standing by teaching a way of life that follows Jesus. The Johannine understanding of "way of truth" is not an abstract system of faith but a sphere of action, similar to the Hebrew Scriptures' way of life in conformity with the Mosaic law, and also similar to "the way" in the Acts of the Apostles.8 The phrase "declare to you the things that are com-ing" does not involve any new revelation, for Jesus also says the Spirit "will speak what he hears." Raymond Brown says that this "consists in interpreting in relation 237 67.3 2008 Kinn ¯ Holy Spirit Spirituality 238 to each coming generation the contemporary signifi-cance of what Jesus has said and done.''9 The Paraclete will help each generation to uncover the deep meaning of the person and mission of Jesus for their particular time and place. Parallels and Some Points John's pneumatology is quite parallel to his Christology. The Spirit of Jesus will perform many of the same functions as Jesus did for his disciples: teach them, be their advocate in trials, intercede for them with God, encourage them, lead them to all truth, and guide them into the future. The Spirit of Jesus will be both a permanent presence and an active teacher and guide. The Spirit will dwell in all Jesus' disciples. Once Jesus has departed, the Spirit of Jesus becomes the "new Advocate." Just as John presents Jesus in his public life as the God's Word, the complete revelation of God, so he presents the Spirit of truth as Jesus' mirror image present to all Christians to the end of time. Such a theology of the Spirit can assist us in our spiritual lives. We live in the age of the Spirit; we are to be guided by the Spirit of Jesus. Jesus himself intends that the Paraclete be his new persona dwelling within us. What Jesus was for his disciples, the Paraclete is meant to be for us. Jesus said, "I will not leave you orphans; I will come back to you" (Jn 14:18). More than that, the Father and the Son will dwell with us: "My Father will love [you], and we will come to [you] and make our dwelling with [you]" (Jn 14:23). This means that the Spirit of Jesus is the personal presence of God dwelling within us. The Father, Son, and Spirit are within us, but Jesus assigns this presence particularly to the Holy Spirit. This Spirit of Jesus is intimior intimo meo ("deeper Review for Religious in me than I am"), in Augustine's words.1° As Raymond Brown has observed, "the Old Testament theme of 'God with us' (the Immanuel of Is 7:14) is now to be realized in the Paraclete/Spirit who remains with the disciples forever." I 1 Notes ~ George Montague SM in the foreword to The Spirit, Giver of Life and Love by John Paul II (Boston: Pauline Books and Media 1996), p. 12. 2 Raymond Brown, "Diverse Views of the Spirit in the New Testament," Worship 57 (May 1983): 227. 3 John Paul II, Dominum et vivificantem, in L'Osservatore Romano, 9 June 1986. 4 See, for example, the bibliography in James W. Kinn, The Spirit of Jesus in Scripture and Prayer (Lanham, Maryland: Rowman and Littlefield [a Sheed & Ward Book], 2004), pp. 213-217. s See Luke 1:35, 41, 67; 2:10-11, 25-32; 3:22; 4:1, 14. 6 See John 1:33-34; 3:16-19; 4:26; 5:24; 6:29, 40, 47-48; 11:25-26; 14:6-1 I. 7John Paul II, Spirit, Giver of Life, p. 22. s Raymond Brown, The Gospel according to John, 13-21, Anchor Bible, vol. 29A (New York: Doubleday, 1966), pp. 628-629. 9 Brown, Gospel, p. 716. ~0 Garry Wills's translation, shortened. Ed. *' Brown, Gospel, p. 644. 239 67.3 2008 JUDITH METZ A Charity Spirituality for Educators 240 ~. harity spirituality" is modeled on the lives of ~ the 17th-century Saints Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac and our 19th-century American Saint Elizabeth Seton. Vincent and Louise were founders and collaborators in organized works of charity in France: the Confraternities of Charity, the Congregation of the Mission, and the Daughters of Charity; and Elizabeth Seton modeled her .founding of the American Sisters of Charity on their inspiration. The Charity charism of these three saints stresses seeing Jesus present in every-one we meet, especially the poor, and believing that Jesus lives and acts through us. Two scriptural passages that were guiding principles for them are St. Paul's "I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me" (Ga 2:20) and Jesus' "Whatever you do to the least of my brothers and sisters, you do to me" (Mt 25:40). Judith Metz SC is the archivist and historian for the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati. Her address is 5900 Delhi Road; Mount St. Joseph, Ohio 45051. Email: judith.metz@srcharitycinti.org Review for Religious Charity spirituality includes response to many types of societal needs, preference for the poor, self-sacrific-ing service, hospitality, practicality, and down-to-earth common sense. The lives of our Charity saints, though filled with activity, were motivated interiorly by their relationship with God. The community motto of the Sisters of Charity is "The Charity of Christ Urges Us" (2 Co 5:14). St. Paul's hymn of charity gives us one description of what the charity of Christ looks like: "Love is always patient and kind, it is never jealous; love is never boastful or conceited; it is never rude or selfish; it does not take offense, and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people's sins but delights in the truth; it is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes" (1 Co 13:1&4-7). The Charity approach to education asks us to love and accept with openness and sincerity all persons as they are, embracing them and empowering them, nur-turing their abilities, while at the same time challenging them to grow in every aspect of their lives. Elizabeth Seton articulated this to one of her friends when she wrote: "You know I am as a Mother encompassed by many children of different dispositions--not all equally amiable or congenial, but bound to love, instruct, and provide for the happiness of all, to give the example of cheerfulness, peace, l~esignation, and consider indi-viduals more as proceeding from the same Origin and tending to the same end than in the different shades of merit or demerit.''1 In a Charity approach to education, emphasis is placed on character development, teaching sound moral principles, integrity, faith formation, and Catholic val-ues principally through the modeling of the teacher. We work to create an environment (in our personhood 241 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ A Charity Spirituality for Educators 242 and in the place itself) that nurtures those we serve in this ministry. In addition to the charity and zeal of our motto, Charity spirituality stresses certain other virtues: remembering the presence of God in our lives, humil-ity, simplicity. My reflection is on these virtues and how they may come into play in our lives as educators. The Presence of God and the Grace of the Moment The practice of the presence of God means open-ness to the "now" because God is present in it. It means believing that there is a blessing, a grace, in focusing on the person or task at hand because that is what God is asking of us now. Elizabeth Seton wrote to a friend: "I am going to meet everybody in the grace of the moment, which we never can know till we find the humour and temper of the one we are to meet with--the many mis-takes all swallowed and comforted by intention inten-tion intention.''2 We never know what the moment is going to bring, but we trust that God will be present in it--and that God is present through us to others. An important principle of the spiritual life is "Be where you are, do what you are doing." You might say, "Isn't that a kind of truism? Aren't we always doing whatever it is that we are doing?" But, if we reflect for a moment, we admit that the answer is often no. Many times we perform our work in a distracted manner as we think about our busy schedules or look out the corner of our eye at a pile on our desk. Teachers constandy experience the time crunch of preparing lesson plans, correcting papers, attending meetings, and coordinat-ing extracurricular activities, all in addition to the time spent in the classroom. The challenge is: How do we remain centered on God and on one thing at a time as we juggle these many demands? How do we bring Review for Religious ourselves to the point where we can give ourselves to what we are doing--with full attention, watchfulness, and consciousness? Why do we find it so difficult to live in the present moment? We each probably have some personality traits that make focusing a challenge, but our culture works against us as well. Technological advances can prove overwhelming to both teachers and students. Who of us does not feel besieged at times with e-mail, voice-mail messages, text-messaging, and who knows what else? We are pulled in many directions, with people clamor-ing for instant responses. Our fast-paced soci-ety also makes our students want instant oral answers. They say, "Just tell us now. We don't have time to waste looking it up or thinking about it." How do we respond to their desire for quick answers when they need to go through the sometimes tedious process of learning? How do we help them become aware of the value and joy in doing the learning, and even in waiting patiendy as it slowly matures and ripens within us? Another deterrent to awareness or mindfulness is our production-oriented culture that urges us to always be doing something "useful." Thomas Merton once observed, "We are so obsessed with doing that we have no time and no imagination left for being.''3 Only through slowing down and being more reflective can we hope to live in the now attentively. Perhaps a step The practice of the presence of God means openness to the "now" because God is present in it. 243 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ A Charity Spirituality for Educators 2441 or two outside for a deep breath of flesh air, stopping to take a series of deep breaths, or finding a quiet cor-ner during a break would help us calm our spirits and refocus our efforts. Elizabeth Seton told her sisters: "Keep well to what you believe to be the grace of the moment. You will often be at a stand for what is best in a situation so new, but only do your best as you have always done, and leave the rest for our dear God.''4 I invite you to reflect for a moment on how a quietly graced focus on the present moment might make a difference in your relationships with your students, with your colleagues, with administrators, parents, and all whom you meet. Humility Humility entails the recognition that all we have comes from our loving God, and so one of the basic stances of a humble person is gratitude. St. Vincent taught: "Be wary about crediting anything to your-self. In claiming this, you in effect steal from God and do God injury. God alone is the author of every good thing.''s Humble persons acknowledge the gifts they have received. Reflect for a moment on your own gifts: intelligence, creativity, insight, generosity--things people have pointed out to you or you recognize within yourself. As we reflect, we realize that all of these quali-fies are things we in one way or another have received and have a responsibility to cultivate. We also realize that others have different gifts. St. Paul tells us: "There is a variety of gifts, but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of services to be done, but always the same Lord; working in all sorts of different ways in differ-ent people, it is the same God who is working in all of them. The particular way in which the Spirit is given to Review for Religious each person is for a good purpose" (1 Co 12:4-7). How do I value my gifts, the gifts of others? Recognizing that all is gift, humble people are open to the multiplicity of gifts around them--open to all the richness and diversity in the world. We can be infinitely enriched if we maintain an openness of spirit. Teaching demands humility. It is about being receptive even when it is difficult. Elizabeth Seton told her early sisters, "The [person] who is truly humble, accepts willingly, without resentment, all that [he or she] receives, though these be corrections, reprimands, slights, or anything else that may disturb her peace or hurt her feelings . This [humble] person is not demanding, domineering, dictatorial, but goes about with that quiet power which finds its source in selflessness.''6 From another perspective, at a commencement address an educator-friend of mine recently noted: Teaching is mostly about listening [which is another way of receiving]. Listen to the rhythms of life puls-ing through your bodies and in the environment all around you, both natural and cultural. Listen to the music of the spheres, as the ancients described in the rhythms of the cosmos. Most important, listen to each other, your friends and neighbors, of course, but your adversaries too. Because if you do I know that you will find they share the same aspirations as you, even though the path they choose to attain them is different from yo~ars.7 What are some manifestations of this virtue as applied to the ministry of education? One characteristic of Charity education has always been a holistic/integra-tire approach to learning, an emphasis on seeing and appreciating interrelationships, seeing the larger picture. Educators have always faced the challenge of preparing students to function successfully in their society--not 245 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ .4 Charity Spirituality for Educators just in a narrow sense but as fully developed, mature persons. Back in the early 1800s, Elizabeth Seton told her students, "I do not come to teach you how to be good nuns or Sisters of Charity; but rather I would wish to fit you for the world in which you are destined to live."8 How do we go about guiding students to become fully developed, mature persons--fitting them for the world in which they are destined to live? First, we assist them in their moral and social development. Some say today that years ago schools were "nothing but finish-ing schools." But perhaps today we have gone to the other extreme by attending only to academics and ignoring other aspects of our students' development. Today we hear stories about the problems employers have with issues like integrity and responsibility among their workers, and social development as well--leading businesses to offer sessions on matters like deportment, proper manners, and appropriate codes of conduct. Charity education stresses not only academic sub-jects but social skills and values such as respect and equality, such as shunning the prejudices of the day not because it is "politically correct" but because it is moral. Charity education stresses forming compassionate rela-tionships and assuming responsibility toward the larger community, rather than placing self at the center of the universe. It includes education in social-justice issues, with a special concern for the most needy, achieved not only through instruction but through experience. The early sisters always made it a priority to visit the sick and poor in their area, frequendy taking students with them, thereby modeling the Charity spirit of service. Charity education approaches the spiritual, cultural, and academic as a unified whole. It teaches self-disci- R~vie~v.for Religious pline, how to make good choices, and the need of look-ing beyond ourselves. It offers principles for making moral choices, for instance, in the use of new technolo-gies or in responding to the issues of the day. A second way that humility can be expressed in an educational environment is in adaptability or flexibil-ity. Adaptation to the needs of the times has been a hallmark of the American Sisters of Charity ever since they adopted their first Rule, which stated that "modi-fications [would be made to the French Daughters of Charity Rule] as. the difference of country, habit, and culture required." When Elizabeth Seton began, she had every inten-tion of focusing her efforts on the education of poor children. Soon she was involved in a boarding academy and caring for orphans as well. From these beginnings Charity schools pioneered in the education of women. They included all types of schools--elementary, board-ing academies, Latin schools, special education, nursing schools. They offered broad curriculums, meeting and often exceeding contemporary standards. Music and the fine arts always flourished alongside standard academic subjects. Meeting these demands of continual change and constant readjustment can be difficult and challenging. It requires a degree of humility to go back and reassess, to change your approach and redo your lesson plans. When I was taking education classes in college, one of our education professors often commented: "Some teachers have twenty years of experience, and some have the same experience twenty times." At the time I did not fully understand her meaning, but it did not take me long after I began teaching to realize exacdy what she meant. 247 67.3 2008 h/letz ¯ A Charity Spi~tualfty for Educators Educational flexibility includes the willingness to take risks without being defensive if your idea or project does not work. It requires making choices in the best interest of the students even when they resist and are critical-- even though it is so much easier to be popular. Vincent de Paul was so convinced of the importance of simplicity that he called it "my gospel," 248 Simplicity Vincent de Paul was so convinced of the impor-tance of simplicity that he called it "my gospel" and "the virtue I love most." "Do you know where our Lord dwells?" he asked; "it is among the simple.''9 There are many contemporary ways of describing simplicity: authentic-ity, integrity, genu-ineness, passion for the truth, sincerity, purity of intention, wholeheartedness. These words con-tain the essence of what Vincent was talking about. They include an openness to the rich-ness and diversity of worldviews, cultures, people, and ideas--a searching for the larger picture, a willingness to communicate, to always be in a stance of readiness to embrace more. Looking at several aspects of this virtue, we see how it can be part of our everyday approach to our educa-tional ministry. First is seeking the truth with sincer-ity and speaking the truth with courage. Jesus told us, "Let your 'yes' mean 'yes' and your 'no' mean 'no'" (Mt 5:37). St. Vincent often spoke of the importance of our actions matching our words, of the necessity of always Review for Religious being authentic: "Our heart must not think one thing while our mouth says another.''~° People spontaneously admire and trust those who live out what they believe and say. Trust is essential to our relationships, to true communication, which is what education is all about. Our challenge is to not get caught up in the conven-tions of our society, that is, for instance, to be "clever," to gain a laugh at another's expense; to act one way around some people and another way around others; to have hidden motives for saying and doing things, such as to ingratiate ourselves or be noticed, to gain some advantage for ourselves or be regarded as acceptable. Instead, we are called to authenticity, accepting the con-sequences whatever they may be. Elizabeth Seton advised her daughter: "Oh do try to be quite independent in virtue. Take its true dignity, and never let impious custom, or the shame of being laughed at, or even the contempt of unreasonable minds, tempt you to treat anyone with the least slight.''11 For our part, how often do we act in inauthentic ways with those in authority, with our peers, with our students? How can we hope to influence students to be models of honesty and integrity if we are not? I invite you to reflect on how seeking the truth with sincerity and speaking the truth with courage are opera-tive in your educational ministry. Are there times when you hide or gloss over the truth, when you are threat-ened by another's approach, closed to his or her point of view? Do you cloak the truth with ambiguity or have hidden agendas? Do you change your story according to whom you are speaking with--administrators, col-leagues, students, parents? How do you model and teach straightforwardness, integrity? One of the beatitudes is "Blessed are the pure of heart, for they shall see God" 249 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ A Charity Spirituality for Educators (Mt 5:8). This is sometimes rendered, "Blessed are the utterly sincere." For St. Vincent, purity of heart or purity of inten-tion meant seeking God in all things, and willing what God wills. It means making God the center of our lives, being wholehearted, orienting our lives so that our sen-timents, our thoughts, our words, and our actions are working together. It means being without guile, with-out cynicism, living with a vision that leads and inspires others. How might this look in an educational setting? One way might be an undaunted quest for excellence despite obstacles--the indifference of students, frustra-tion at lack of resources, disparagement of our enthu-siasm for projects or even for learning itself. Elizabeth Seton spoke of her pleasure in study, her interest in the "works of imagination" and the "wonderful production of science." She was avid about learning, and instilled in her pupils a love of it. She never tired of teaching and always found new joy in engaging with her students. Are there times when I am tempted to act or speak with less than true simplicity? Have I ever curtailed my enthusiasm for fear of others' response? "Remember," Elizabeth Seton told her teachers, "the whole of our spirit is to be Humble and Simple.''12 When on~ of our sisters died recently, one of her former students wrote: "Sister taught me in 1931 and 1932. She had an enthusiastic interest in the subjects she taught, in my case trigonometry and chemistry, and I believe that interest eventually led me to obtain an engi-neering degree in 1939 from Ohio State University." How do we ever know the impact on our students of our enthusiasm and quest for excellence in the class- ¯ room? Review for Religious As early as 1810, Elizabeth Seton felt the need for teachers at her school to be better prepared. She established standards of excellence, insisted the sisters have time to study, and arranged that the more expe-rienced teachers mentor the newer ones. To improve instruction she established a normal school and hired additional help so that the sisters had time to study.13 Throughout the history of the Sisters of Charity, these practices have prevailed. In the late 19th century, for instance, the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati appointed a congregational board of education and a superinten-dent of schools. They developed curriculums, organized summer school for the sisters, and required them to pass exams before they were allowed in the classroom. Mentors checked lesson plans of beginning teachers and offered suggestions about teaching methods and class-room management. The Charity approach to education, as to any minis-try, means being wholehearted in what we do, doing our best and striving for improvement. Whatever our success or failure, as long as we can say we did our best, we will have acted with authenticity and integrity, that is, with simplicity. In an expression of her simple trust, Elizabeth Seton told a friend, "If I succeed I bless God, if I do not succeed I bless God, for then it will be right that I do not succeed.''14 Charity Vincent de Paul and Elizabeth Seton were people of action. They were unable to speak of loving God wholeheartedly without immediately including relation-ships with and service to others. In one of her jour-nals, Elizabeth Seton noted: "The charity of our blessed Lord in the course of his ministry had three distinct 67.3 2008 IYletz ¯ .4 Charity Spirituality for Educators qualities which should be the model for our conduct. It was gentle, benevolent, and universal.''15 The impor-tance of these qualities in educational ministry is clear. Among the hallmarks of Christ;s gendeness, Elizabeth lists patience, vulnerability, accepting everyone equally, bearing with others' weaknesses, and quietly giving ser-vice. How many times a day do we feel called upon to practice patience or to bear with others' weaknesses? As educators standing in front of a classroom, we are cer-tainly vulnerable. Louise de Marillac said: "True charity loves and forbears in all things, even contradictions and repugnance.''16 Can we find in ourselves the resources to imitate Christ's gentleness when we are contradicted or shown disrespect? The second quality of Christ's ministry that Elizabeth Seton identifies is benevolence, the gratu-itous gift of self over the long haul, freely given with-out expecting any return. St. Vincent said: "Love finds a way: it is inventive even to infinity.''~7 Love is dedi-cated and steadfast under any circumstances; it is open to everyone in warmhearted hospitality. It requires hard and sometimes unpleasant work; it requires rising above our own likes and dislikes in order to give our attention and concern to others, valuing each person we encounter as a precious gift deserving our gift in return. It requires moving outside of ourselves for the sake of others. Elizabeth highlights universality as the third char-acteristic of Christ's ministry. Charity spirituality has a special concern for the poor. How can we reach out and care for those whom society has left behind or left out-side? Vincent de Paul says: "Love God, make no excep-tion of persons, be indifferent to all places.''~8 We are called upon to do this every day in our ministry--with Re'view for Religious the student who cannot get it, the student who does not care, the student who does not respect us. Elizabeth Seton welcomed pupils from diverse back-grounds against the wishes of her advisors. She accepted Protestant students and provided catechetical instruc-tion for the black children of the area. She said: "All apply to the Sisters of Charity who are night and day devoted to the sick and ignorant.''~9 How universal is our attitude toward all with whom we come in contact? How open are we to caring about and caring for all of creation? In commenting on the ministry of the Sisters of Charity, someone recently remarked on the qualities she noted: "They were never afraid to address the need and often the impossible; worked untiringly and with such zeal--quiet and unrecognized--to make life better for others. They embraced all the challenges lovingly and with such commitment--and selflessly served others." Her words remind me of St. Paul's admonition: "You should be clothed in sincere compassion, in kindness and humility, gentleness and patience. Over all these clothes, to keep them together and complete, put on love" (Col 3:12&14). "Humility, simplicity, charity, and remember God is ever present." Each one of us probably takes notice of a different aspect of this statement, and may be struck differently another time. I return to St. Paul's words: "Love is always patient and kind, it is never jealous; love is never boastful or conceited; it is never rude or selfish; it does not take offense, and it is not resentful." These words challenge us in every area that we have reflected upon. Along with love's priority, we strive for simplicity, expressed in kindness and patience, and for humility to overcome jealousy and conceit. Reflecting on these vir- 67.3 2008 Metz ¯ .4 Charity Spirituality for Educators rues and living them is a lifelong pursuit. May we make progress in doing so a little bit more each day. Notes 1 Regina Bechde SC and Judith Metz SC, eds., Elizabeth Barley Seton: Collected Writings, 3 vols. (New York: New City Press, 2000, 2002, 2006), 2:154. z Seton: Collected Writings, 2:402. 3 William Shannon, Silence on Fire: Prayer of Awareness (New York: Crossroad, 1991), p. 73. 4 Seton: Collected Writings, 2:702. s Pierre Coste, ed., Correspondance, entretiens, documents (Paris: Gabalda, 1920-1925), vii, 289. 6 1809 Instructions, leaflet. 7 Jeremy Curtoys, Commencement Address, Tarleton State University, 16 December 2006. s Charles I. White, Life of Mrs. Eliza A. Seton (New York: Dunigan, 1853), p. 362. 9 Coste, IX, 606, and I, 284. 10 Coste, IX, 81. 1, Seton: Collected Writings, 3a:490. 12 Seton: Collected Writings, 3a:252. 13 First Council Book, 20 July 1818,.Sisters of Charity of St. Joseph (Emmitsburg, Maryland: St. Joseph Provincial House Archives). 14 Seton: Collected Writings, 1:362. is Seton: Collected Writings, 3 a: 193. 16 Louise Sullivan DC, ed., Spiritual Writings of Louise de Marillac (New York: New City Press, 1991). ,7 Coste, IX, 146. 18 Coste, Ix, 146. 19 Seton: C~llected Writings, 2:127. Review for Religious JOSEPH F. SCHMIDT St. Th r se's Contribution to the Catechism The Catechism of the Catholic Church was first published in the United States in 1994. It is the authoritative text for the catecheti-cal renewal called for by the Second Vatican Council. Surprisingly perhaps, St. Th4r~se of Lisieux (1873 - 1897), popularly known, as the Little Flower, is quoted six times in the text, more often than any other woman and more often than many theological and spiritual giants, including St. Teresa of Avila (quoted five times), St. John of the Cross and Cardinal Newman (quoted four times each); Saints Jerome, Benedict, Francis of Assisi, Catherine of Siena, and Ignatius Loyola (three times); Saints Bernard and Bonaventure (twice); being mentored Joseph E Schmidt FSC has written for this journal as far back as 1988. The author of three books, he is a staff mem-ber of the Sangre de Cristo Center (for international sab-baticals); 410 State Road 592; Santa Fe, New Mexico 87506. joeschmid t@newmexico.com 67.2 2008 Schmidt * St. Thdr~se's Contribution to the Catechism Saints John Cassian, Dominic, Alphonsus, and Francis de Sales (once). She is probably also the youngest per-son cited. Th~r~se's published works, from which the quo-tations in the Catechism are cited, are not extensive, although they exceed those of John of the Cross. Her writings, mostly letters, poems, and autobiographi-cal material, are not organized into any scholarly or thematic theological presentation, yet her teachings, including the cited quotations, are profound in their insights and accessible in their simplicity, and they offer a new and challenging look at the truth of the gospel. As Pope John Paul II said when he made her a doctor of the church in 1997, "One can say with conviction about Thdr~se of Lisieux that the Spirit of God allowed her heart to reveal directly to the people of our time the fundamental mystery, the reality of the gospel." "Her 'little way,' the pope continued, "is nothing other than the gospel way of holiness for all." In the Catechism, as is her "little way," Th~r~se has made a contribution to the church's understanding of the renewal envisioned by the council. Her citations in the Catechism pertain to the church's teaching on the contribution of human effort to our merit and sanctification (none), on the role of love in our sanctification (e~erything), on the power of the saints as intercessors in our sanctification (a lot), on the confidence that the faithful can have of dying into eternal life (complete), on the place that the four Gospels hold in the church (unique), and on her explanation of prayer in the Christian life (remarkable). Each citation is significant; we will consider in detail only Th~r~se's contribution on prayer. Review for Religdous Merit and Love In the article "Grace and Justification," which deals with the doctrine of merit in the Christian life, the Catechism quotes from Thgr~se's prayer, her "Act of Oblation to Merciful Love." Flowing from her spiritual maturity at the age of twenty-two, just two years before she died, this prayer expresses her understanding of the role of her weak human response to grace as well as God's gracious mercy in her sanctification and salvation. It has been called an expression, in prayer form, of her "little way." Understanding grace not as a God-given commod-ity, but as God's loving presence at the core of her I~eing, Thgr~se, in the time before her death, had come to the point of abandoning herself completely into the hands of God, her loving parent, aware of her weakness and placing no emphasis whatsoever on her own merits. She would, as she said, appear before God "with empty hands." This is the part of Thgr~se's "Act of Oblation to Merciful Love" quoted in the Catechism: After earth's exile, I hope to go and enjoy you in the fatherland, but I do not want to lay up merits for heaven. I want to work for your love alone . In the evening of this life, I shall appear before you with empty hands, for I do not ask you, Lord, to count my works. All our iustice is blemished in your eyes. I wish, then, to be clothed in your own justice and to receive from your love the eternal possession of yourself! (Catechism of the Catholic Church [CCC], §2011; see Story of a Soul [SS], trans. John Clarke, p. 277) The Catechism uses these words of Thgr&se to express the church's understanding that all our merit flows from the charity of Christ, who lives and acts in us by grace. Thgr~se's prayer is the culmination of the Catechism's presentation on the doctrine of merit, 67.3 2008 Scbmidt * St. Tb~r~se's Contribution to the Catechism emphasizing that merit is sheer divine gift. All the faith-ful are invited to appropriate this truth of Th~r~se's prayer. The Catechism also quotes Thrr~se in the section "The Church Is Holy." Love is the foundation of the holiness of the Christian and the heart of Christ's mysti-cal body, the Church. Thrr~se, at the end of her life, in meditating on this truth, expressed the significance of Iove in her life and in the life of every Christian. This is cited in the Catechism: If the church was a body composed of different members, it couldn't lack the noblest of all; it must have a Heart, and a Heart BURNING WITH LOVE. And I realized that this love alone was the true motive force which enabled the other members of the church to act; if it ceased to function, the Apostles would forget to preach the gospel, the Martyrs would refuse to shed their blood. LOVE, IN FACT, IS THE VOCATION WHICH INCLUDES ALL OTHERS; IT'S A UNIVERSE OF ITS OWN, COMPRISING ALL TIME AND SPACE-- IT'S ETERNAL! (CCC §826; see SS 194) In this reflection, Th6r~se understood her own voca-tion. She could not be a martyr or an apostle--both important members of the mystical body--but she could be the heart. She would be love in the mystical body, and thereby participate in and nourish the vocations of all those members who act on behalf of the church. "My vocation is love.t she exclaimed. Thus I shall be everything" (SS 194). Th6r~se's audacity in placing herself at the heart of love in the church was not because of her perfection of virtue, but rather because, in her very weakness and imperfection, she was boldly willing to be available to satisfy Love's own desire "to lower itself., to nothing-ness and transform this nothingness into fire" (SS 195). Review for Religious Thtr~se understood that her love of God was expressed by her complete availability to receive and radiate God's love of her. This made her weakness and powerless-ness an advantage because, in being available to God in ¯ "nothingness" and "littleness," it allowed God by stoop-ing down to manifest his infinite grandeur even more. The Catechism invites all the members of the church, in their present state as sinners, to receive and radiate God's love and, even with their limitations and weak-nesses, to share in Th6r~se's vocation to be love at the heart of the church. Death and Dying In the section "The Communion of Saints: The Communion of the Church of Heaven and Earth," the Catechism again cites some of Th~r~se's final words, encouraging all Christians to be assured that the saints intercede for the whole church. The Catechism men-tions Th~r~se's promise as she lay dying: "I want to spend my heaven in doing good on earth" (CCC $956; see Her Last Conversations, trans. John Clarke, p. 102). Over the years since her death in 1897, innumerable testimonies regarding Th~r~se's intercessory power con-firm that she continues to fulfill that promise. And the church assures us that this intercessory power is avail-able through all of the saints. The Catechism quotes some of Th~r~se's dying words in the section on the meaning of Christian death, suggesting that these words can truly be on the lips of every dying Christian. "I am not dying; I am entering life," she said (CCC §1011; see General Correspondence, trans. John Clarke, vol. 2, p. 128). She expressed a profound gospel truth with simplicity, but not without much personal struggle. 67.3 2008 Schmidt ¯ St. Thgrbse's Contribution to the Catechism 260 During her final days, Thgr&se endured excruci-ating physical pain and emotional anguish. Suffering the ravages of tuberculosis that had grown worse over eighteen months, she was also plagued by dark feelings that heaven did not exist, that only nothingness awaited her, that her immense desires to do good on earth after her death would never be realized, and that her life had been wasted. She also felt frightening temptations to suicide. Compounding all these dreadful feelings was her experience of being isolated from the nuns who attended her on her deathbed. She was fearful that, if she shared her distressing thoughts and feelings with them, she might blaspheme and cause scandal. Th~r~se's struggle in faith and her final understanding of her immanent death as "entering life" can become a source of encouragement and hope for anyone nearing death, especially for those who face their last days in pain, confusion, and darkness. Gospel and Prayer Thtr~se is also quoted in the Catechism in the section "The Canon of Scripture." She never had access to a com-plete Bible, but she made the sacred Scriptures that she did have, particularly the Gospels, a fundamental source for her prayer. Her words treasuring the Gospels are cited in the Catechism: "But above all, it's the Gospels that occupy my mind when I'm at prayer; my poor soul has so many needs, and yet this is the one thing needful. I'm always finding fresh lights there, hidden and enthralling mean-ings" (CCC §127; see SS 179). The Catechism invites all Christians, in imitation of Th~r~se, to find a source of prayer in the Scriptures, especially the Gospels. Th~r~se's contribution to Part Four of the Catechism, "Christian Prayer," is probably her most important. Review for Religious Until the publication of the Catechism, the definition of prayer that influenced most of the catechetical teaching in the church through the centuries is that of St. John Damascene. His definition, formulated at the beginning of the 8th century, was ordinarily presented in earlier catechisms in this simplified form: "Prayer is the lifting up or raising up of the mind and heart to God." St. John Damascene's full definition is retained in the Catechism, but is now placed after Th6rbse's expres-sion of prayer. The Catechism asks, What Is Prayer? Th6r~se's description of prayer is given as the answer: "For me, prayer is a surge of the heart; it is a simple look turned toward heaven, it is a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and joy" (CCC §2558; see SS 242). Th6r~se's description of prayer is remarkable in at least six specific ways. In the first place, it shows her personal and invitational way of expressing her teaching. She does not define prayer didactically, but says what prayer is "for me." Her understanding of prayer comes from her own experience, and she shares her insight as a personal statement that might also be of assistance to others. She says she knows "there are really more dif-ferences among souls than there are among faces" (SS 239). By retaining Th6r~se's phrase "for me" as part of its definition of prayer, the Catechism suggests that the church respects the deeply personal and unique quality of the Holy Spirit's prayer in each person. St. John Damascene's full definition is retained in the Catechism, but is now placed after Thdr~se's expression of prayer. 261 67.3 2008 Scbmidt ¯ St. Tbdrkse's Contribution to the Catechism Second, in this definition of prayer, Th~r~se incon-spicuously and successfully combines in simple language the three traditional forms of prayer: affective prayer or prayer using short aspirations or devotional formulas, contemplative prayer or prayer of centering and simple attention, and reflective prayer or meditation. Th6r~se refers to affective prayer as "a surge of the heart." She describes contemplative prayer as "a simple glance turned toward heaven," and identifies reflective prayer as "a cry of recognition and of love, embracing both trial and joy." Third, by saying that prayer is "a surge of the heart," Th6rEse shifts the metaphor of prayer. From John Damascene's more humanly effortful, even stereo-typically masculine, image of "lifting up the mind and heart to God," Th~r~se has moved to the cooperative, even stereotypically feminine, attitude of allowing her heart, moved by the Holy Spirit of love, to surge with that Love in return. Fourth, while not excluding the possibility that reflective prayer would include the sacred Scriptures, a practice dear to her heart, Th~r~se does not refer to Scripture in her definition. Rather she alerts us to the fact that in her reflective, meditative prayer she has embraced her lived experience of both pain and happi-ness, "trial and joy." She uses her ordinary experience to deepen her relationship with God. Her very life is for her the place to find God, to be available to God, and the place from which to utter her cry to God. She includes in her description of prayer a faith-filled atti-tude of acceptance and a grace-filled attitude of surren-der in the trials and joys of everyday life. One's own experiences as the place from which prayer surges are, of course, the way of prayer pictured Review for Religious for us in the lives of the holy men and women of the Scriptures, of the prophets, and indeed of Mary and Jesus. It is here that one gains a deeper understanding of the mystery of divine love. This is the way ordinary Christians throughout the centuries have intuitively prayed, reflecting on their lived experiences, searching for divine providence in the unfolding of their lives. Th~r~se's description of prayer explicitly validates this intuitive way of praying as % cry of recognition and of love embracing both trial and joy" in people's ordinary daily life. Fifth, by including the idea that loving and hon-est reflection on her ordinary life experiences has been for her a form of prayer, Th~r~se shifts people's under-standing of prayer away from "saying prayers" from a prayer book to the idea that prayer is a matter of "prayerful-ness." Thdr~se herself, of course, used a prayer book for her prayer. She recited the Divine Office with her sisters in Carmel as the usual form of her community prayer. But, when she prayed privately and alone, she often dispensed with prayers from a book and simply reflected on her own experiences, searching for God's meaning and love in those experiences. She wrote: It is not necessary to read from a book some beauti-ful formula composed for the occasion. If this were the case, alas, I would have to be pitied! Outside the Thdr~se shifts people's understanding of prayer away from "saying prayers " from a prayer book to the idea that prayer is a matter of "prayerfulness." 263 67.3 2008 Scbmidt ¯ St. Tb~rkse's Contribution to the Catechism Divine Office, which I am very unworthy to recite, I do not have the courage to force myself to search out beautiful prayers in books. There are so many of them it really gives me a headache! And each prayer is more beautiful than the others. I cannot recite them all and, not knowing which to choose, I do like children who do not know how to read. I say very simply to God what I wish to say, without compos-ing beautiful sentences, and he always understands me. (SS 242) Her conversation with God extended throughout the day, about the things of the day, in mindfulness and prayerfulness. Sixth, Th6r~se has expanded the idea of prayer to embrace, as she hopedl a whole legion of little souls in her spirituality. She does this by offering a description of prayer that, while explicitly mentioning "heaven," does not explicidy mention God, Spirit, or Jesus. For her, of course, "heaven" was the eternal embrace of her loving God, Jesus was her beloved with whom she would share eternal life, and the Spirit was the surge of prayer itself. By not mentioning God, Spirit, or Jesus, how-ever, Th~r~se allows her way of prayer to be embraced by those who, without faith in God or knowledge of Jesus or the Spirit, sincerely search for meaning, love, and truth in their life. She has expanded the domain of prayer, thereby permitting an ecumenical and interreli-gious openness that allows the Catholic understanding of prayer to be included in every dialogue on prayer or religion, even with unbelievers. It extends the common ground on which spirituality can be discussed, an exten-sion much needed in our day. These six nuances in the new description of prayer contained in the Catechism of the Catholic Church contribute significantly to the understanding of prayer Review for Religious today. St. John Damascene died around 750. His defini-tion of prayer has had an influence on the teaching of the church for twelve hundred and fifty years, and still remains an important way of understanding prayer. If TMr?~se's definition has the same centuries-long influ-ence before Catholics and others need a new definition, they will be living in the fourth millennium, about the year 3250. Th~r?~se's definition of prayer is only one element of her contribution to the Catechism and only a small part of her spiritual legacy, but even that small part may be more enduring than people have yet imagined. Farmer God I am afield o on which you scatter seed. If some hungry sparrows come to feed upon some grains before they germinate, let it be - sparrows too depend upon your prodigality. But 0 my God, allow enough of me to grow and ripen in your summer love. Before the harvest mow, let warm winds blow across this sea of wheat that I may show your beauty at your feet. Irene Zimmerman OSF 265 67.3 2008 ALEXANDER T. POCETTO De Sales' Vision of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life d chief contribution of St. Francis de Sales (1567- 1622) to the church was to remind people that the call to holiness is addressed not only to religious and clerics, but to everyone. (To deny this, he said, is a heresy.)1 Vatican Council II'S document "The Church in the Modern World" has given added impetus to this basic truth. It is so widely accepted today that it seems to detract from the worth of the religious life? Is it any wonder, then, that people, especially the young, are asking themselves, "If all are called to sanctity and the council urges laypeople to seek it in and through ordinary life, why bother to become a religious?" In recent decades we have seen a marvelous devel-opment in the theology of marriage, and many have acquired a deeper understanding of the Christian mean-ing of conjugal love and fidelity, especially as a sign Alexander T. Pocetto OSFS is currently the Salesian Scholar in the Salesian Center for Faith and Culture of De Sales University; 2755 Station Avenue; Center Valley, Pennsylvania 18034. alexander. pocetto@desales.edu. Review far Religious of Christ's sacrificial love for the church. If the sacra-ment of matrimony has such dignity and nobility, why renounce it in favor of the religious life? Charitable works of many kinds are no longer per-formed almost exclusively by religious. The state and private individuals have practically taken over these activi-ties. Highly qualified, competent, and dedicated laypeople are spending their lives for the poor, the destitute, the mentally ill, the castoffs of society. As a result, many peo-ple ask themselves, "Why enter the religious life if I can perform these apostolic works as a dedicated layperson?" Moreover, some argue that laypeople, since they are actu-ally engaged in worldly affairs, are in a much better posi-tion to suffuse these activities with the love of Christ. In addition to all of this, a number of religious con-gregations, not adapting to the times, seem to have lost their raison d'etre. Nowadays few young people seem challenged and inspired by them, especially in the more industrialized countries of Europe and North America. Given these developments, can we conceive of the church without the religious or consecrated life? Is the religious life as a form of holiness the victim of an evo-lution in the church? Is it going to disappear, giving way to newer forms of holy living? In other words, has the religious life served its purpose, and is it now to be discarded like an old shoe? The church does not think so. Vatican II, however, asks us to deepen our understanding of the religious state in the life of the church. We cannot do this by examining hierarchical and juridical structures, for they do not reveal the necessity of the religious life. We must go back to the New Testament, particularly the Gospels, to understand what place Christ had in mind for reli-gious life when he founded the church. 267 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' ~on of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life The Church and Religious/Consecrated Life The first two chapters of John's Gospel are revealing in this regard. The call of the first disciples is placed immediately after the hymn in praise of the incarnation and the witness of John the Baptist. Christ first calls his disciples and then accompanies them to a wedding feast at Cana. It seems that everything takes place to tell us that, when Christ began to establish his church, he set up two states--that of Christian marriage, inaugurated at Cana, and the consecrated life, inaugurated by the call of the disciples. John mentions the time, about four in the afternoon, when two of John's disciples decided to stay with Jesus that day--perhaps implying that the Sabbath was at hand; in any case, the detail gives a spe-cial significance to their staying with him. Their answer to "Come and see" marks the first time that disciples gathered around Jesus. But, as Mark points out, disciples did not gather exclusively for the mission of preaching, but to stay close to Jesus as companions and to go out preaching at his command: "He appointed twelve, to be with him, and to be sent out to preach" (Mk 3:14). The characteristics elements of this following of Christ are these: (1) complete submission to him, (2) renouncement of material goods, (3) life in common with him, and (4) a close and intimate association with his work of redemption--his apostolic mission. In these we can see the pattern of religious life: "union with Christ through obedience, chastity, poverty, common life, and dedication to the apostolate.''3 The religious life encompasses more than the three traditional evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience, They derive their value, importance, and significance from complete, immediate, and exclusive attachment to Jesus. One might object that the three Review for Religious vows include this attachment: they take it for granted. This is true, but it is poor pedagogy to let what is pri-mary be only implicit in what is explicitly expressed. If we reduce the religious life to the three vows, we will have difficulty making it relevant to the church's life and work today. Other elements deserve equal emphasis: total dedication to Christ, community life, and dedication to the apostolate. From the very begin-nings of the church, Jesus' followers have been characterized by their preferential love of him, by their community life, and by their apostolic zeal. "The Savior wanted the conse-crated life of his disciples and of his women followers to form the cornerstone of his church, the very first stone. "4 By a careful and prayerful examination of Scripture, we will be able to see that the religious life is a natural way of living the gospel to the full. One sign of the church in its fullness, St. Francis de Sales pointed out, is the presence of religious orders and congregations. "The true church ought to shine in the perfection of the Christian life; not so that everybody in the church is bound to follow it; it is enough that it be found in some notable members and parts, in order that nothing may be written or counseled in vain and that the church may make use of all the parts of Holy Scripture.''s In the saint's view, a full and complete vision of the church can be had only when there are people in it living con- The religious life encompasses more than the three traditional evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience. 269 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' I~ion of Ecdesial and Consecrated Life 27_0] secrated lives. This visibility is necessary for the believ-ability of the church, even in today's world. The tendency in the past was to stress the verti-cal aspect of Christianity, personal union with Christ-- "Jesus and I" or "me and God." This obscured somewhat the ecclesial and communal aspects of Catholic life and religious life and the community's (horizontal) role in life and in evangelization. To understand better the place of consecrated life in the church today, we have to see it in the light of covenant theology. Religious Life and Covenant Theology God's plan of salvation is expressed as a covenant between God and human beings. In describing the nature of the church, Francis de Sales comments, "It is for a good reason that the Christian people are called a church or a convocation, because the first privilege that God bestows on man to put him in the state of grace is to call him to the church."6 Our very first privilege is to be joined to the covenant community of the church. It is no wonder, then, that Francis tells us that by baptism, which inserts us into the community of the church, we become "the ark of the covenant.''7 The new covenant was not made between individu-als but between Christ and the whole group of his dis-ciples, a community destined to regroup all of humanity in unity. The details of Pentecost mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles, the violent wind and the tongues of fire, recall similarities and parallels in the Sinai covenant (see Ac 2:2-3). In the Old Testament, the new covenant was foretold and described in terms of a marriage covenant. Francis de Sales emphasizes this in his explanation of the church's perpetuity. This idea is so central to this study that the pertinent passage needs to be cited at length: Review for Religious The glorious secretary of God says in this place (Rv 21:2) that the church is a new city, decked out by God as a bride for her bridegroom. Now just try to imagine . . . what kind of a bride she would be if she were fashioned according to the wish and desire of her groom. If the bridegroom were to fashion her as he wished, I believe that he would make her the most beautiful, the most virtuous, the healthiest, and the most long-lived that one could imagine. For there is no love like that of husband towards his wife . I ask you, would it be fitting for our Lord to have shed his blood to reconcile his church to God, his Father, and then to forsake this church in the end so that she is devastated? Certainly such a mediator merits an endless peace, a very close covenant, about which Isaiah says, speak-ing of Christianity: "I will make a perpetual cov-enant with them.''8 This text not only illuminates Francis's teaching on the church, but on the religious life and marriage as well. He uses the exact same expression--"a very close covenant" (une alliance estroitte)--in the chap-ter on marriage in the Introduction to the Devout Life.9 The Old Testament prophets like Hosea, Jeremiah, and Isaiah were fond of describing the new covenant in terms of conjugal union and fidelity. For them mar-riage was the inspiration for a full understanding of it. The covenant in the New Testament, however, gets its inspiration not from marriage but from the marriage of Christ to humanity, that is, from the incarnation and its consummation in Christ's death and resurrection--his Passover. St. Paul makes this clear when he writes to the Ephesians, "Husbands, love your wives as Christ loved the church" (5:25). Here he envisions the church as the bride of Christ and redemption as the act of love par excellence, the model of conjugal love. 271 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' ~tsion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life 272 The church's loving response and fidelity to Christ are admirably realized in the life of consecrated virgins. Virginal consecration is the integral expression of fun-damental marks of the church--covenant community, mutual union, zeal for the apostolate. This is Francis de Sales' perspective when preaching to the Calvinists. The religious life is a sign of the presence of Christ's fullness, a sign of the church in its perfection. This suggests how necessary consecrated life is to the church. Without it the church would not be the covenant community; it would not be a full mirroring of Christ. Eeclesial Dimensions of the Religious Life In founding the Visitation congregation, Francis de Sales evidently had this truth in mind. In his preface to the Visitation constitutions, he explains that bish-ops in the early church continued what the apostles had started with regard to virgins and widows. They looked after those especially who "by a special inspira-tion were called to the state of consecrated chastity.''1° Francis notes that these were of two kinds--those who lived in community and those who lived at home. He carefully lists the testimony of Fathers of the church who witnessed to various assemblies of virgins and widows consecrated to God. If we remember that the word "assembly" is his favorite word for the church, the ecclesial relevance of his conception of the reli-gious life become more evident. In fact, he wanted the Visitation to have its official beginning on the Feast of Pentecost. He takes pains to show the apostolic ori-gins of the religious life. He says: "St. Ignatius, disciple of the apostles, wrote to the Philippians, 'I greet the assembly of virgins and the congregation of widows,' and moreover herequests that the people of Tarsus Review for Religious honor virgins 'as consecrated to God' and widows as the altar or 'sanctuary of God.'" ~1 Of course, we have to avoid a strict parallel between the state of virgins and consecrated widows with that of the religious life inasmuch as "virginity founds the order of virgins and not the religious life as such.''12 Eventually the state of virgins and widows coalesced with historical developments in religious life, yet they have separate identities: "Religious life requires and consecrates not so much virginity as chastity.''~3 As Francis sees it, the believability of celibacy is closely linked to the believability of the church. This helps us to understand the unique place of the vow of chastity in the Salesian conception of the religious life. Before the Visitation became a religious order, the only vow that was taken before the oblation was that of chas-tity: "Since the fundamental vow of this congregation is made expressly and formally of perpetual chastity and continence, it is not necessary to declare how much all the sisters are obliged to it; for in a word they must belong completely to God their Spouse.''~4 This article should be compared with an earlier one on the vows: "All those who are to receive the veil will make the simple vow [of chastity] immediately before they pres-ent themselves for the holy oblation. But, with regard to the vows of poverty .and obedience, they shall only be made upon the advice of the spiritual father and with the permission of the superior.''~5 We get a deeper insight into Francis de Sales' understanding of chastity in the church in a letter to a young lady who later became a Visitandine: "Consider how agreeable the virtue of chastity is to God and the angels because he wanted it to be eternally observed in heaven, where there will no longer be any kind of carnal 273 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' l~sion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life pleasures nor marriages. Will you not be happy to begin in this world the life you will continue eternally in the next? Praise God, then, for having given you this holy inspiration.''~6 Today, with all the talk about the sanctity, nobil-ity, and dignity of conjugal love and the sacrament of matrimony and with the consequent attacks on priestly celibacy, and indeed on all kinds of dedicated celibacy, as affecting and deforming human personality, many people are uncom-fortable with this eschatological value of chastity. The world looks upon us as freaks of bygone ages. "After all," some say, "marriage is a sacrament and celi-bacy is not." What Francis has to say about the com-plete consecration achieved by this vow will shed further light on the matter. In the letter mentioned above, he continues, "[This virtue] makes our body sacred and gives us the comfort of belonging completely to his divine Majesty--heart, body, mind, and sentiment.''~7 So Francis does not view it merely as a consecration of our bodies, but as a complete attachment to Christ involving the whole person. Marriage is the sign and image, the sacrament, of the relationship between Christ and his church. "It is to be admitted without scandal or resentment that marriage, even though a sacrament, is no more than a sacrament; it is a sign of the love of Christ and is nourished by his grace; but marriage does that under carnal conditions Marriage is the sign and image, the sacrament, of the relationship between Christ and his church. Review for Religious which Christ will abolish in his final reality and which he sanctifies only to teach us how to surpass them. ¯ This is what medieval thinkers meant when they said that marriage 'signified' the union of Christ and the church but did not 'contain' it.''~8 But this otherworldliness or eschatological character of the religious life does not militate against a genuine interest in the secular city. In fact, its genuineness can be judged only by the life of service to others that one undertakes here on this earth. Francis de Sales' teach-ing on this is clear. He sees necessary contact with the world as important for religious. In his mind, there is no essential conflict between the life of contemplation and that of the apostolate or the active life, as is clear when he states the purpose of the Visitation: "Inasmuch as this congregation has two principal exercises--the one contemplation and prayer, which is practiced mainly in the house, the other the service of the poor and the sick ¯. --it has fittingly chosen as patron Our Lady of the Visitation, because in this mystery the most glorious Virgin performed that solemn act of charity toward the neighbor of going to visit and serve St. Elizabeth in her pregnancy and composed nonetheless the canticle of the Magnificat, the sweetest, the most elevated, the most spiritual and contemplative prayer that has ever been written." 19 The authenticity of our contemplative prayer is seen in how we relate to others: "It is necessary to meditate and to contemplate only insofar as it is required to per-form our duties well, each according to our vocation. . . Do you want to know whether you have prayed well and whether you have kissed our Lord with the kiss of the mouth? See if you have a heart full of kind and charitable affections toward your neighbor, if your heart 275 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' l~wion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life 276 is disposed to help him in all his needs and to put up with him lovingly on all kinds of occasions.''2° At this point it is important to point out once and for all that Francis de Sales gave in to Cardinal Marquemont's demand to change the Visitation from a congregation with simple vows to a religious order with solemn vows because he felt that, without his sup-port and approval, the Visitation could not be estab-lished in France. Bear in mind that Marquemont was influential and a close friend of Louis XIII. Francis revealed his true reasons for this change not in his let-ter to Marquemont,2~ but in a letter to Mother Favre, the superior of the Visitation monastery in Lyons. After mentioning that Marquemont wanted to see the Visitation become a religious order, Francis says: "Now my feeling was that it would be better [to leave] it a simple congregation, where only love and fear of the Spouse would serve as a cloister, with the withdrawal that is suitable to and required by such assemblies, as we have put it in the Rules. But, since what this con-gregation can hope to receive in all of France depends upon the good reception that the Reverend Archbishop [Marquemont] will give it in his city, I consent that it be changed into a religious order.''22 The entire let-ter makes it abundantly clear that he went along with Marquemont for very practical reasons. Let us, then, bury once and for all the assertion that he did this through obedience to his metropolitan, Archbishop Marquemont. His metropolitan was the archbishop of Vienne and not Marquemont. Even though de Sales decided to give in to Marquemont, there are two things that he would not accept. First, he would not change the name from the Visitation to the Presentation, as Marquemont Review for Religious requested.23 To Marquemont he gives juridical reasons to satisfy the cardinal's legalistic mind. His real reason is that the name and the mystery of the Visitation is tied to its very nature and purpose, that is, to the nature of the religious life as he conceived it. Second, he used every trick in the book to obtain a modified cloister or enclosure so that, if the sisters could not go out into the world, the world, at least in the personae of women who were disturbed, could come and spend some time in the monastery to regain their peace of soul and mind. In this way the sisters could still serve the poor: "Inasmuch as the con-gregation must hold in high esteem char-ity and solicitude for the poor and inasmuch as there is no greater poverty than that of the soul, it will be permitted to receive in the house not only for a day, but for several days, as many as required, women who either need consolation or need to prepare themselves for a general confession or to amend their lives.''24 Along this line, it is helpful to remember that some of the sisters taught catechism in the cloister to the young ladies of Annecy. For Francis, another consequence of the eschato-logical meaning of the religious life is that it stresses the importance of the covenant community's com-munal life. In his correspondence with the Barnabite Dom Just Gu4rin, he tells him to use every resource The name and the mystery of the Visitation is tied to its very nature and purpose, that is, to the nature of the religious life as he conceived it. 277 67.3 2008 Pocetto ¯ DeSales' l/~ion of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life 278] to obtain permission for the sisters to say the Little Office of the Blessed Mother.25 He felt strongly that, if the Visitandine nuns were obliged to recite the Divine Office as all cloistered nuns were obliged to do in those days, they would not be able to accept the sick and infirm and so would lose the charismatic character of making present on earth the church in heaven: "It seems that, according to the parable [of the Wedding Banquet, Lk 14:16-21], [St. Augustine, in his Rule] makes room in the religious life not only for the hale and hearty, but also for the sick, the lame, and the blind, so that like the nuptial feast of the heavenly Spouse his home may be filled with guests."26 Francis's original purpose in establishing the Visitation is what struck the people of his day. It was an ecclesial sign representing to them the kingdom of God on earth. Vghile on his second journey to Paris, Francis discussed the Visitation with laypeople who were in the party. The observation that the nobleman Albert de Gen~ve made is extremely enlightening: "In this regard, he used to say to u~ that religious life is like the banquet of the prince in the Gospel, where no one should be refused admittance, where even the ordi-nary citizen, the blind, the cripple, is to be admitted. All these things stuck out in my mind because I had seen by experience all that he foretold [about the religious life] in the great perfection which reigned in this monastery [of the Visitation of Annecy]."27 Inasmuch as it is eschatological, religious life points to and makes present, to a certain degree, the life to be lived in heaven. It is like the wedding banquet of the Gospels. In Francis's mind, life in heaven is a com-munal one. Of the communion of saints in heaven, he says, "They give to one another [indescribable] content- Review for Religious ment and live in the consolation of a happy and indis-soluble union.''2s The eschatological, communal, and ecclesial aspects of the religious or consecrated life are, for Francis, inextricably intertwined, and that is how the saintly doctor of love expounds them. His vision can revitalize religious life today by supplanting the exaggerated individualism that threatens to diminish or destroy it. Notes ~ Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, trans, and ed. John K. Ryan (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1950), Part I, chap. 3. 2 See Jean Galot sJ, "Why Religious Life?" Review for Religious 24 (May 1965): 505-517. 3 Galot, "Why," p. 508. 4 Galot, "why," p. 509. 5 Francis de Sales, The Catholic Controversy, trans. Henry Benedict Mackey OSB (Rockford, Illinois: TAN Books and Publishers, 1989), p. 199. This posthumously published work is more aptly rifled "Meditations on the Church." See Elisabeth Stopp, "Meditations on the Church (1595-96)," in A Man to Heal Differences: Essays and Talks on St. Francis de Sales (Philadelphia: St. Joseph's Univ. Press, 1997), pp. 51-74. 6 Francois de Sales, Oeuvres de Saint Fran¢ois de Sales, ~dition Complkte (Annecy: Monast~re de la Visitation, 1892-1964), 27 vols, vol. 1, pp. 42-43. Hereafter OEA. 7 Francis de Sales, Treatise on the Love of God, trans. John K. Ryan (Stella Niagara, N.Y.: De Sales Resource Center, 2007), I, p. 209. s Sermon on the Perpetuity of the Church, OEA, 7, pp. 215-222, here pp. 215 and 217. 9 De Sales, Introduction, Part 3, chap. 38. Unfortunately, Ryan trans-lates the French word "alliance" as "alliance" instead of "covenant," which it obviously means if we understand the term as used in the ser-mon cited above. ~0 OEA, 25, p. 294. u OEA, 25, pp. 3-4. ~2 Gustave Martelet SJ, "The Church's Holiness and Religious Life" (Part 2), Review for Religious 25 (January 1966): 33. ~3 Martelet, "Church's Holiness" (Part 2), p. 33. 279 67.3 2008 Pocetto * DeSales' V'~on of Ecclesial and Consecrated Life ~40EA, 25, p. 369-370. ~5 OEA, 25, p. 245. ~60EA, 14, p. 18-19. ~7 OEA, 14, p. 19. ~s Gustave Martelet SJ, "The Church's Holiness and Religious Life" (Part 1), Review for Religious 24 (November 1965): 901. Part 3 was published in the March 1966 issue, pp. 246-268. These three articles are the late R.aymond L. Sullivant SJ's translation from Martelet's book Saintetd de l'Eglise et Vie Religieuse (Toulouse: ~ditions Pri~re et Vie, 1964). ~90EA, 25, p. 214. 20 OEA, 9, pp. 466-467. 2~ See OEA, 25, pp. 333-342. 2z OEA, 17, p. 139. 23 See OEA, 25, p. 340. 24 OF~, 25, p. 220. 25 See OEA, 18, pp. 140, 186, 195. 26 OEA, 25, p. 53. 27 Deposition of Albert de Gen~ve, Archives of the Annecy Visitation Monastery, fol. 763. 28 De Sales, Introduction, Part 1, chap. 16. 280] Rose Window A greatflower glows in the stone welcoming light with every petal, turning in circles of blue, yellow, rose, transplanted here from some celestial meadow to bloom in the house of God. Kate Martin OSC Review for Religious JOHN CARROLL FUTRELL Christian Prayer's Trinitarian Shape Prayer as a human activity is making ourselves present to the presence of God within us, so that we can recognize God's presence in everyone and everything around us. To pray we must make the human effort to respond to God's constant coming to us. We are taught in the New Testament that we should always pray in the name of Jesus, remembering always that the Holy Spirit comes to help us to go to the Father. We are called to go through Jesus to the Father, as the Holy Spirit moves us to pray. The Holy Spirit dwells in our own spirit, and our own spirits are illuminated by the Holy Spirit--through the Holy Spirit's activity in our spirit. If we feel moved to it, a good way to pray is consciously to focus our prayer: it always is meant to take us to our creator, the Father, who praying 281 John Carroll Futrell SJ has written for this journal for fifty years. His address is 3601 Lindell Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63108. 67.3 2008 Futrell ¯ Christian Prayer's Trinitarian Shape 282 seeks to draw us through Jesus' loving heart. At Jesus' baptism, "while he was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit came down upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, 'You are my own dear Son. I am pleased with you'" (Lk 3:21-22). After facing Satan's temptations, Jesus "returned to Galilee, and the power of the Holy Spirit was with him" (Lk 4:14). Just before choosing the Twelve Aposdes, Jesus "went up a hill to pray and spent the whole night there praying to God" (Lk 5:12). Through a parable, once again Jesus teaches us to "ask, and you will receive, seek and you will find, knock and the door will be opened to you." Jesus insists that "the Father in heaven [will] give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him" (Lk 5:9 and 13). In a few passages of the Gospels, Jesus actually teaches us about the trinitarian shape of all Christian prayer. He promises that "when the Spirit comes, who reveals the truth about God, he will lead you into all truth. He will not speak on his own authority, but he will speak of what he hears and will tell you of things to come. He will give me glory, because he will take what I say and tell it to you. All that my Father has is mine; that is why I said that the Spirit will take what I give him and tell it to you" (Jn 16:13-15). Again Jesus said to the Aposdes, "The Father will give you whatever you ask of him in my name. Until now you have not asked for anything in my name; ask and you will receive, so that your happiness may be complete." In a passage of John's Gospel, Jesus powerfully reveals his relationship to the Father in the Holy Trinity when he says: "Father, the hour has come. Give glory to your Son, so that the Son may give glory to you. For you gave him author-ity over all humanity, so that he might give eternal life Review for Religious to all those you gave him. And eternal life means to know you, the only true God, and to know Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. I have shown your glory on earth. I have finished the work you gave me to do. Father, give me glory in your presence now, the same glory I had with you before the world was made" On 17:1-5). "I pray for them. I do not pray for the world, but for those you gave me out of the world. They belonged to you and you gave them to me" (Jn 17:9). Building upon the gospel revelation, St. Paul con-tinues to teach us the trinitarian shape of all Christian prayer. In Romans 8:9-11 he says: "You do not live as your human nature tells you to; instead, you live as the Spirit tells you to--if, in fact, God's Spirit lives in you. Whoever does not have the Spirit of Christ does not belong to him. But, if Christ lives in you, the Spirit is life for you, because you have been put right with God, even though your bodies are going to die because of sin." In another passage from Romans, Paul tells us: "Those who are led by God's Spirit are God's sons. For the Spirit that God has given you does not make you slaves and cause you to be afraid; instead the Spirit makes you God's children, and by the Spirit's power we cry out to God, 'Father, my Father!' God's Spirit joins himself to our spirits to declare that we are God's children" (Rm 8:14- 16). Paul rejoices that "neither the world above nor the world below--there is nothing in all creation that will ever be able to separate us from the love of God which is ours through Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rm 8:39). To the Ephesians, Paul insists that we should present everything to God in prayer, "asking for God's help. Pray on every occasion as the Spirit leads" (Ep 6:16-18). Paul exhorts the Philippians "not to worry about anything, but in all your prayers ask God for what 283 67.3 2008 Futrell ¯ Christian Pr.ayer's Trinitarian Shape In the four Gospels,, Jesus teaches us to pray chiefly by modeling prayer rather than by giving lessons. you need, always asking him with a thankful heart" (Ph 14:6). In the four Gospels, Jesus teaches us to pray chiefly by modeling prayer rather than by giving lessons. When asked specifically to teach people to pray, Jesus gives them the Our Father (Mt 6:9-13, Mk 11:25-26, Lk 11:22-24). Luke says, "Jesus told his disciples a parable [the widow and the judge] to teach them that they should always pray and never become discouraged" (Lk 18:1). Through his own example, Jesus shows us impor-tant times to pray. When performing the great miracle of the multiplica-tion of loaves and fishes, Jesus "looked up to heaven and gave thanks to God" (Mt 14:18-19, Mk 6:41, Lk 9:15-17). During his great suffering in the Agony in the Garden, Jesus prayed that God would take away this chalice of pain, but "not my will but yours be done" (Mt 6:36-46, Mk 14:32-40, Lk 22:39-46). Jesus promises that "God will judge in their favor his own people who will cry out to him day and night for help" (Lk 18:9). And Jesus practiced what he preached. He "went to lonely places to pray" (Lk 5:16). He "prayed all night" (Lk 5:12). At the Last Supper when instituting the Eucharist, Jesus "gave thanks to God" (Mr 26:28-30, Mk 14:22-26, Lk 22:14-23). At the Transfiguration, when Jesus shows Peter, James, and John his glory, we are shown the place of Jesus in the Trinity when the Father's voice is heard 284} Review for Religious from heaven saying: "This is my Son whom I have cho-sen. Listen to him" (Lk 9:29-36). Throughout Christian revelation, the three Persons of the Holy Trinity are shown to be one God; this deter-mines the shape of all Christian prayer to God. Through the Gospels we are shown that Christian prayer must be offered through Jesus Christ to the Father and that the very possibility of prayer depends upon openness to the Holy Spirit, who illuminates our spirits and moves us to pray. This is why all Christian prayer has a trinitarian shape, whether the ones praying are conscious of this or not. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion 1. To Whom do I pray when I address prayer to God? 2. How does Scripture affect my way of praying? 3. "The Eucharist models our Christian way of praying." Has this statement been true in my own way of praying? 4. What would I say is distinct about our Christian way of praying from other religious traditions? 285 67.3 2008 PHILIP SHANO Midnight Prayer in the Ignatian Exercises p ercy Bysshe Shelley wrote of "profoundest mid-ight." He sums upwhat many other writers have described--a midnight hour that speaks to us more deeply, more intimately, than the daytime hours. Such an hour can nourish those hungering for God. Thus, "midnight prayer" is a significant part of the dis-cipline St. Ignatius Loyola calls for in the Twentieth Annotation experience of his Spiritual Exercises, when people withdraw for a month from their normal activi-ties and personal relationships. Ignatius says in a note immediately before the additional directions, "The First Exercise will be made at midnight" (SpEx §72). He refers again to the midnight prayer a few other times in the Exercises. He does not spell out why this exercise is so significant. Philip Shano SJ, a Canadian Jesuit who spent twelve years in retreat work at Loyola House in Guelph, Ontario, is novice director and superior at the Jesuit Novitiate; 1035 Summit Avenue; Saint Paul, Minnesota 55105. Review for Religious Many a contemporary director either refuses to recommend this practice to retreatants or is so blas~ in mentioning it that retreatants do not see its value. These directors see it as a pass~ practice, out of place in the contemporary world. Or, worse, they see it as one of Ignatius's recommended penitential practices. It is nei-ther pass~ nor penitential. These directors are depriving retreatants of one of the many helpful practices recom-mended by Ignatius. Along with elements in the Annotations and Additions, Ignatius's point in suggesting midnight prayer is about making the retreatants' environment conducive to the serious and life-changing graces he wants them to receive during the thirty days. The early directories of the Exercises consider midnight prayer important in the daily pattern of the retreat. In a parenthetical com-ment, the official directory of 1599 states the reason for midnight prayer--"a time most helpful for meditation because of its quiet and deep silence." It says, "Those who wish to make the Exercises in full form and who have the strength for it will generally spend five hours each day in meditation: the 1st about midnight (a time most helpful for meditation because of its quiet and deep silence), the 2nd at daybreak, the 3rd a little before dinner, the 4th in the afternoon, and the 5th in the late afternoon.''1 Mealtimes vary from culture to culture, but the point about the quiet and silence of midnight cuts across cultures. Even those who stay up late and would never describe themselves as prayerful know the power of midnight's "quiet and deep silence." It is probably one of the most common times for creative writing. There is something about prayer and reflection in the late night or early morning that fosters the power of the imagination. As Ignatius said, directors should take 287 67.3 2008 Shano ¯ Midnight Prayer in the Ignatian Exercises account of the retreatants' differences of personality and energy. Most of those who make the full Exercises are being called to the life of discipline recommended by Ignatius. Directors, however, can work with them to determine if their sleep needs suggest that they should forgo the interruption that midnight prayer entails. Regrettably, many directors assume that their retreatants will find midnight prayer difficult and so they do not recommend it. One of the most common and misguided assump-tions about midnight prayer during the thirty-day retreat is that the practice is peni-tential. Directors should notice that, if ~ Ignatius connected midnight prayer with penance, he probably would have said something about it in his section on penance (SpEx §§82- 87). He does speak of the importance of sleep (§84), but he says nothing about the times of prayer as a form of penance. The practice of midnight prayer has been dropped by many contemporary directors of the Spiritual Exercises. The assumption that midnight prayer is penitential is not just incorrect; it fosters the contemporary watering-down of the Exercises. It misses one of Ignatius's main aims in his intense experience of the disciplined spiritual life, namely, the constant need to dispose retreatants to receive the graces sought. The Additions and other points in the Exercises stress the There, is something about prayer and reflection' in the late night or,, early morning that fosters ~he power of the imagination. 2,88 Review for Religious importance of the surrounding environment--the place where one has a room, the view from the window, and so on. The hours of prayer, too, can add to the helpful disposition of the retreatants. Many directors who recommend the midnight meditation speak to their retreatants about asking their guardian angel to wake them up about three hours after they fall asleep. Ideally, one does not use an alarm clock or other artificial means of rousing oneself. The idea is that, if it is to be a time when one is disposed for prayer, one will wake up. In the twenty years I have been directing the Spiritual Exercises, my experience has been that very few retreatants find it an unhelpful time to pray. Many may balk at the idea at first, but after trying it most do not dispute its value. Many are motivated by Ignatius's invita-tion to discipline. After the retreat is finished, they may even have a strong urge to continue late-night prayer. In our day a certain political correctness may induce directors to take "the clients' side" to avoid any accusa-tion of too much discipline and mortification. These, however, have a valid place in the spiritual life; it is how people grow. Still, there often is an aversion to dis-ciplines that might be uncomfortable. Directors avoid asking people to spend much time praying about sin, about hell, or about Jesus' passion and death. Midnight prayer has an obvious discomfort, disrupting ordinary sleep patterns. That does not mean that it is a bad thing. Like other things, it requires discernment. Note ' Number [34] (chap. 3, no. 7) of"The Official Directory of 1599" in On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of 1~99, trans, and ed. Martin E. Palmer SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), pp. 297-298. 289 67.3 2008 BERNARD J. LEE The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience revisiting religious life 2901 There are three parts to these reflections on the social matrix of obedience in religious life. The first addresses the functions of power in any social group, emphasizes mutuality in deci-sion making, and finds a helpful resource in Bernard M. Loomer's "Two Kinds of Power." The second part addresses the condition of those who feel "outside" of power, looks at how they come "inside," and finds helpful resources in Elizabeth Janeway's book Powers of the Weak. The third part addresses the dynamic in a Judeo-Christian group seeking to promote the reign of God in specit~c communal experi-ences; it finds resources in Gaudium et spes and in Paul Hanson's The People Called: The Growth of Community in the Bible. These reflections are Bernard J. Lee SM is professor of theology and vice pres-ident for mission and identity in St. Mary's University; One Camino Santa Maria; San Antonio, Texas 78228. Review for Religious an elaboration of a short discussion of obedience in my book The Beating of Great Wings: A Worldly Spirituality for Active Apostolic Communities. 1 Before addressing those three areas, I want to name two theological presuppositions that underlie what follows. The first is that all experiences of God are mediated historically and that obedience is one such mediation. We are addressed by God in and through experience. Martin Buber remarked that people won-der why God does not talk much nowadays. He says that too many people expect to hear God above or alongside daily life, and miss the point that, when situ-ation after situation calls us to make decisions that have effects, these situations are in fact the personal speech of God.2 The second presupposition is from Vatican Council II's Lumen gentium §9, that it has pleased God to save us not merely as individuals one by one, but as a people mutually related. Obedience has everything to do with the social matrix of redemption and, in our special case, the life of a religious community. We in religious life are a clear instance of persons mutually related. The Issue of Power Church thought and behavior including these reflec-tions of mine--have always been influenced by the cul-ture at large. In the culture of feudalism, the church's and religious life's sense of themselves reflected that culture. In civil life, there were a few princes and dukes, lords and ladies, and all the rest were subjects and had to obey them. Church authority tended to reflect that structure. Recall the phrase for bishops and cardinals ("princes of the church"), and the terms of address ("Your Excellency" and "Your Eminence"). At ordination the newly ordained 291 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience 292 places his hands between the hands of the bishop and promises obedience to him, not to the reign of God. In religious life the designated community leaders were called superiors, which logically makes community members "inferiors." Higher leaders were and still are sometimes generals. Obedience operated in that frame-work. Titles are an index to a community's social struc-ture. There were incredible leaders in this system in the church and in religious life, but it was still this system. By and large, feudal tendencies were muted in religious life, but they were part of our history. Community members understood themselves somewhat feudally in their relationship with designated community leaders. We are in a different position in Western culture today because of a late-18th-century paradigm shift to a social matrix different from feudalism. But we must remember that more participative approaches to group decision making are really quite new if we consider reli-gious life's long history. In his bicentennial book on the French Revolution, Simon Schama discusses that paradigm shift as an aban-donment of feudal structures, in which most people were subjects, and a desire among people for wider participation in their communal life. He says: "While it was commonplace to recognize that the Revolution gave birth to a new kind of political world, it is less often understood that that world was the product of two irreconcilable interests--the creation of potent states and the creation of a community of free citizens.''3 Mutatis mutandis, these political pulls were felt in the church and in religious life. They are reflected cur-rently, for example, in the matter of episcopal collegi-ality. In parishlife in the United States, about eighty percent of Roman Catholics want a voice in the spending of parish income and in matters pertaining to justice and welfare. Over seventy percent would like to have a voice in the appointment of priests to a parish.4 This is a desire to be ecclesial citizens. Women's orders, by and large, have made significant moves toward the post- Revolution leadership paradigm. Vatican II's attention to episcopal collegiality was also a move in this direc-tion, but there is still a need for wholehearted careful development. With this as background, I am interested in ponder-ing religious obedience as part of the "post-feudal" social dynamics of a religious order's apostolic commitment to the reign of God in human history. The politics of mutual responsibil-ity for the common good would be a briefer statement of the same thing. Because politics has gotten such a questionable repu-tation in our culture, Bernard Crick felt compelled to write a small book (and a fine one), In Defense of Politics.5 We easily forget that Aristotle called politics a virtue in his treatment of the social nature of human beings, in the Nicomachean Ethics, book six.6 And St. Thomas sees politics as a virtue in his tract on prudence, De Prudentia, again as a consequence of our social nature.7 This sense of politics is a good framework for consider-ing religious obedience. The word politics is derived from the Greek word for a city (polis). Politics is how city dwellers--citizens-- We are in a different position in Western culture today because of a late-18th-century paradigm shift to a social matrix different from feudalism. 293 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience 294 construe their life together to best serve their common good. Given the inevitable variety of experiences and perceptions within any group, political astuteness guides the compromises people must make in their collective espousal of the most good for all--this must not be allowed to mean a bland minimum of good. That would be bad politics. Among religious, common good is intimately related to our community's mission and to the social circumstances where we are missioned. Religious obe-dience implies a common quest for the reign of God. Maximizing that quest requires some "political" jockey-ing and compromising. In view of this, I want to reflect of the issue of power. The word power sounds threaten-ing, but it is a neutral term. Power is an issue whenever two or more people are engaged in any social interac-tion. Power is present in dialogue and collaboration. In the reflections that follow, I am especially indebted to Bernard Loomer's lecture on social ethics, "Two Kinds of Power," at the University of Chicago's Divinity School, and to Elizabeth Janeway's book The Powers of the Weak. I am interested in how communities and community leadership at every level obey together the reign of God. This may sound quixotic, but I will give it a try. This approach is limited in scope. It is concerned with obedience's social matrix, and does not touch upon the asceticism that healthy obedience requires, nor upon the prayer life that supports it, nor upon the relation-ship with God that it mediates. In my reflection I have in mind active apostolic religious orders, with mission as a key category. Loomer's "Two Kinds of Power" Bernard Loomer says, first of all, that "the presence Review for Religious of power is manifest whenever two or more people are gathered together and have any kind of relationship," and also that "its deeper and sometimes darker qualities emerge as soon as the omnipresent factor of inequality makes itself felt . The problem of power is the prob-lem of the quality of our lives.''8 I recognize that as true, wherever and whenever, in a group as small as two or as large as a nation. Loomer's major contribution to social thought is his analysis of unilateral power and relational power. The most common under-standing of power in the United States, and not infrequendy in the church, is the unilateral version of it, "the capacity to influ-ence, guide, adjust, manip-ulate, shape, control., to advance one's own pur-poses," and to be affected as little as possible in the process.9 In this pervasive model of power, one person's gain in power is nearly always connected with another's loss of power. The postconciliar Christian heart and mind seek a countercultural alternative to unilateral It takes a strong and secure person to practice relational power, one willing to be influenced by others. power. The exercise of this relational power presumes "the ability both to produce and [to] undergo an effect . . ¯ [for] the capacity to absorb an influence is as truly a mark of power as is the strength involved in exert-ing an influence.''~° One should not try to exert influ-ence without having been influenced by that situation or those persons, in order first to have an appreciative understanding of what one hopes to influence. 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience 296 It takes a strong and secure person to practice rela-tional power, one willing to be influenced by others. We should not try to have effects on any person or event that we do not first understand. If we do understand, it is only because our knowledge arises from our thor-oughly experiencing someone or something "other." There is a profound and respectful mutuality in the exercise of relational power that does not characterize unilateral power. I am suggesting that healthy obedience belongs more fully and redemptively to relational power than to unilateral power. Relational power functions effectively amidst rela-tively secure people, a hard saying for something so important. When reflecting on the implications of a rich life for one who lives relational power, Loomer calls it "S-I-Z-E" and spells it out. He calls it S-I-Z-E because it takes a "big person," a secure human being, to practice it. If I were looking for a good contemporary description of holiness, I would include these thoughts, which are as applicable to a community as to an individual: By S-I-Z-E I mean the stature of your soul, the range and depths of your love, your capacity for relation-ships. I mean the volume of life you can take into your being and still maintain your integrity and indi-viduality. I mean the intensity and variety of outlook you can entertain in the unity of your being without feeling defenseless or insecure. I mean the strength of your spirit to encourage others to become freer in the development of their diversity and uniqueness. I mean the power to sustain more complex and enrich-ing tensions. I mean the magnanimity of concern to provide the conditions that enable others to increase in stature. To me, S-I-Z-E is the fundamental cat-egory. It is the essential principle. Everything else in life is an abstraction from this or a commentary upon it.~ Review for Religious That is the context for relational power. A theological note about the exercise of power is in order. What any religion does is propose the absolute perfection of God. The ways that the Greeks and the Hebrews do it contrast sharply. One who interprets God wearing a Greek hat would say that God is absolutely immutable, cannot change, because perfect being can-not change. If you can be better tomorrow than you are today, you are not perfect. If you can be worse tomor-row than today, you are surely not perfect. If you can simply be different tomorrow than today, you are not now all that you can be. So, in Greek logic, if God is perfect being, God cannot change. God then exercises unilateral power, having effects, but never being truly affected. In his book The Divine Relativity, Charles Hartshorne says: "The politically, and I am confident theologically, sounder principle is this, that he who is most adequately influenced by all may most appropriately exert influence upon all.''~2 Hebrew logic about God reflects something closer to Hartshorne's remark. It claims God's perfection as perfect love rather than perfect being, which implies being profoundly affected by the being of the ones loved. Our love must change because the ones we love change. Perfect love is not immutable, but rather the ultimate instance of relationality, and therefore the most mutable of all beings. I want to say that there is more biblical testimony for a relational understanding of God's power than a unilateral interpretation. God speaks: Sometimes I announce that I shall uproot, break down, and destroy a certain nation or kingdom; should the nation I have threatened.abandon its wick-edness, I then change my mind about the disaster I intended to afflict. Sometimes I announce that I shall build up or plant a certain nation or kingdom, but 297 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social Matrix of Religious Obedience should that nation do what displeases me and refuse to listen to my voice, I then change my mind about the good I had intended. (Jr 18:7-10) One remembers also that Abraham and Moses both bargained with God to change God's mind--not philo-sophical arguments but midrashic intuitions. I am suggesting that obedience is about the exercise of power in a community and that relational power is the appropriate exercise of power. In fact, the English word obedience comes from two Latin words, audire, "to listen," and oh, to be "right in front of" what one is lis-tening to. This is not a minor insight. It is a picture of relational power. In relational power, the "power" is understood as being first of all in the community at large, in the life of the community. Elizabeth Janeway's reflections pertain more to the community's power to shape decisions than to designated leaders' power to shape them. Janeway's "Powers of the Weak" In her book Elizabeth Janeway says: "There is noth-ing inherently 'better' about the weak or 'worse' about the powerful, as human beings. What is 'better' is that a relative balance should exist between the members of a power relationship.''13 She describes three ways that those who in unilateral power situations are outside that power can exert power. The first of these is to announce their disbelief publicly, to call into question another's power to define or name something. It is to say out loud that something else could be the case, and maybe that a better case could be made. "The ordered use of the power to disbelieve, the first power of the weak, begins here, with the refusal to accept the definition of oneself that is put forward by the powerful.''14 Review for Religious The second power of the weak is in coming together, because "when mistrust [disbelief] is solitary, it can react against the doubter . Mistrust needs validation, and that comes from the assurances that one's doubts are realistic and shared by others.''~s The third power of the weak somewhat resembles a union strike or even civil disobedience--whatever its form, it is a public collective voice. Important here are the two words "collective" and "public." Though Elizabeth Janeway's reflections on the pow-ers of the weak may sound extreme, underneath them is the presumption that care for the common good is the duty of the entire community. Leadership and community are both there to serve the common good. The community's percep-tion of the common good needs to be spelled out and deserves to be a shaper of leadership and even an exercise of leadership. Similarly a designated leader's perceptions must be taken seri-ously by the entire community. There is a strong element of mutuality in the social function of obedience, but many social constructions of reality do not recognize this. The wily American composer Charles Ives once remarked that everybody knows more than anybody. I would not push this remark to an extreme, but it surely expresses some trust in collective discernment and wis-dom. On the other hand, one person sometimes has more wisdom than the collective. Leadership and community are both there to serve the common good. 299 The Dialogue between the Word and the World Meticulous discernment of what is needed to imple- 67.3 2008 Lee ¯ The Social 2Vlatrix of Religious Obedience oo] ment the reign of God, and appropriate celebration of what has already been successfully implemented, are both situated in a social matrix. Active apostolic reli-gious orders exist for collaborating with God's inten-tions for human history. This collaboration requires a community's attentive listening to what faith seeks and attentive listening to what specific social situations need or even cry out for. It also requires a careful communal search for the best strategic response, given the actual resources, great-or small, at their disposal. Whatever contributes in any way participates in leadership and invites obedience. In order to follow Mary's advice at Cana to "do whatever he tells you," it helps to remember Martin Buber's reminder that you or I encounter God speak-ing to us personally when our assessment'of events and circumstances demands that we make our decision and take our stand. I would add that often it is we, not just you or I, who must hear and obey what God is telling the bunch of us to conclude and do as a community. The Second Vatican Council stated this clearly: The people of God. labors to decipher the authen-tic signs of God's presen(e and purpose in the hap-penings, needs, and desires in which this people has a part along with other men and women of our age. For faith throws a new light on everything . . . and thus directs the mind to solutions which are fully human. (GS §11) In a similar vein, Paul Hanson describes what he considers to be the dynamics of any community that is called into existence by its Christian faith: Within biblical communities of faith, God's activity in the world was discerned in the interaction between confessional [congregational] heritage and new Review for Religious events. And word and world continue to interrelate in the life of religious communities today. Utmost care must be given to both sides of this two-dimensional exegesis. As much harm can be done by applying an inadequately understood word to a well-understood world as in applying a well-understood word to an inadequately understood world.16 This, I believe, is the context for discernment. If I were preparing a formation program, I would put a high priority on developing skills in social analysis and in hermeneutics (understanding the dynamics of interpret-ing our faith traditions) and al

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