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Issue 36.2 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Lores Umvers~ty, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Budding, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1977 by REWEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW r:oR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELI6IOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Mlarch 1977 Volume 36 Number 2 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REvxEw Fort R~L~to~s; 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 REvmw Foa R~L~mvs; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. We Journey Through Tears Ann .Marie ' Krupski, C.S.J. ," Sister Ann Marie resides at 152 Third Street; Troy, NY 12180. I would not exchar~ge th, e,, laughter of my heart for'the fortunes of the'' mult=tudes; nor would I be Content with convert=ng my tears, invited by my agonized self, into calm. It is my fervent hope that my whole life on this earth will ever be tears and laughter, Tears that purify my heart and reveal to me /he secret of life and 'its mystery. . ' . . . Teals with which I join the.broken~hearted.1 Unlike Kahil Gibran, we feel more comfortable when we convert our tears tb'~"laugh~er, "dompanionship, or any available distraction. As the psalmist reflects:"Who'of us wants a pillow drenche~l with tears, eyes wasted by grief, or sustenance by the bread of tears? But really, we are not comfort-bound people; tears ar~'-an essential ingredientoin our lives and when we hesitate to convert the.m, we find that they .convert us' by purification, revelation, and consolation. ~ ~'~ Tears That Purify o To~let tears purify us, w.~"must go to andpass through Gethsemane; the thought of such sojburhing repels us. For in Gethsemane there is no periphery; outer edges are only for those who run away or fall asleep. Those who st, ruggl.e to stay mdst encounter the razor edge of unrecognized and unacknowledged realities, and to particiPate .in. these realities we must go alone. Carlo Carretto reflects: "Because not even Jesus can tal~e our place in the leap of Faith; it is up to us. It is like dying. It is up to us, and no 1Kahil Gibran: Tears and Laughter, Bantam Books, Inc., New York, 1974, p. 1. 1 69 170 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 one is able to take our place.'"-' At this time, the loneliness of pain and the pain of loneliness are so intense that our finite rootedness is shaken by fear, great distress, and sorrow to the point of death (Mk 14:34). With tremen-dous hesitation, we stumble into the crucible of inner anguish. Here, the fire of severe distress touches every fiber of our being, invades each corner pre-viously hidden from our own insights, and temporarily immobilizes us; al-though immobilization does not cripple or paralyze us. Like St. Paul, "We are afflicted in every way possible, but we are not crushed" (2 Co 4:8). Intense inner anguish teaches us to walk with suffering, and suffering stretches us beyond the narrowness of our own horizons. However, one of the haunting and terrifying qualities about Gethsemane is that even if we choose not to go there, it will .come to us. When the flood of pain drenches our soul, Gethsemane penetrate~ us, and suffering becomes unavoidable. In the agonizing abyss, we learn how to die, and how to live our dying. And the surprise of dying catches us off guard. For while we expect to walk to our death daily, we do not often foresee walking with our death. In fact, at first we may not recognize that this death-in-life is life-giv-ing as was Gethsemane, with its seemingly negative features: --Being devoid of the human support of friends: "He came back and found them sleeping . Had you not the strength to keep awake one hour?" (Mk 14:37). "My friends and my companions shrink from my wounds, even the dear-est of them keep their distance." (Ps 38:11 ). --Being stripped of the expectation that the God of the impossible will remove the struggle: "Everything is possible for you. Take this cup away from me" (Mk 14:36). "My God, my God, why have you deserted me?" (Ps 22:1). --Being vested with the willingness to do what we really prefer not doing: "Let it be as you, not I, would have it" (Mk 14:36). "My food is to do the will of the one who sent me" (Jn 4:34). --We go "right into the dark cloud where God is" (Ex 20:21~ and 24:18). As soon as we enter the cloud, the cloud enters us, and we go the way of apparent absurdity. In the mist, we ponder: is darkness really light; aban-donment ieally presence; diminishment, growth? It is so difficult to realize that God is here; our anguish is too great, the cloud too thick. So. often we feel: "bowed down, bent double, overcome . . . numbed and crushed . . no relief from , . . pains" (Ps 38:5-17). With the poet of Lamentations we cry out: He has forced me to dwell in darkness . He has walled me in; I c~nnot escape; he has made my chains heavy; . . . My eyes dissolve in torrents of tears. My eyes weep ceaselessly, without relief (Lm 3:6-8 and 48-50). "The God Who Comes, Orbis Books, New York, 1976, p. 40. We 1ourney Through Tears / 171 " Our spirits.,sink and our hearts groan as we brood on our anguish. We go about in mourning all day long, sometimes even moaning aloud. Reluc-tantly we try to pierce the darkness which has penetrated us; yes, :reluctantly because often we are afraid to be pierced by the light. It becomes easier to cry, more consoling to be blinded .by tears than blinded by the cloud's thick-ness. And desolation's touch has no light grasp in this agony. It is as though "there is no one to comfort me" (Lm 1:21). Any of our attempts to look for comfort become futile when the embrace of annihilation is so relentless. Gradually, the surface-rooted tree within us topples and the.broken fragility which ,remains is divested of any strength, we could have once called our own. We shiver in the exposure of our weakness and murmur the only yes that comes, the only yes that is genuine, the yes we have cried in the tears that purify. With Jesus crucified we. cry out, in a voice not loud but humbled (Lk 23:46), "into your hands I commit my spirit" (Ps 31:5). It is-this meager but genuine "yes" which is, for us, the beginning of the fulfillment of Malachi's prophecy: '"Yahweh will purify the sons [and daughters] of Levi so that they' will make an offering to Yahweh as it should be made" (Mal 3:3). So that our offering can be made as it should, we are led along the path of,constant conversion and unlimited surrender. Along this path, we begin to cry the tears that reveal the secret of life and its mystery. Tears That Reveal To let tears purify us, we went to Gethsemane.To let tears reveal mys-tery, we will go to the mount of Transfiguration. It is, here that we learn the beauty of.light and the significance of shadow, the breadth of revelation and the depth of.mystery. When we read the account of the Transfiguration, we respond favorably to the light and dazzlingly white parts. Although like Peter, we may feel somewhat awkward or ,even frightened by such intensity; we, too, want to echo his words: "It is wonderful for us to be here; so let us make three tents, one for you, one for'Moses, and one for Elijah" (Mk 9:5). How we long to stay 'with Jesus, "light of the world., and light of life" (Jn 8: 12). Immersed in radiance, we often skim over the next part of Mark's nar-rative: "And a cloud came covering them in shadow . . ." (Mk 9:7). This shadow, so significant in the whole event, helps us realize that transfiguration does not just occur in luminous light. For at .the exact moment of revela-tion Peter, James, and John are covered in shadow. And it is precisely at this moment that a voice comes from the cloud to proclaim: "This is my son" (Mk 9:8). From the cloud,'.the voice announces the revelation. In the shadow, the apostles receive it. Cloud and shadow are so vital in revelation. As~we weep the tears that reveal, we might reflect on two moments in our lives that integrate light and, shadow, revelation and mystery: the mo-ments of transcendence and of trust. (Later, each of us will be able to con- 172 / Review [or Religious; l/olume 36, 1,977/2 sider many aspects other than those mentioned here:~) However, it must be clear that~no one can share an experience: of.the transcendent~ Only, the Holy Spirit c.an do that. Sacred Scripture helps us in this'realization. .Through the prophet Ezekiel, God .tells us: "I shall put my spirit in,you" (Ezk 36:27). Jesus has revealed that ~the Holy Spirit will teach us every, thing (Jn 14:26). And St. ~Paul reflects: ~ . ¯ .'. the Spirit~ reaches the depthS of' everything, even the depths of God.'Afte( all the depths ~0fa person can only be known'by onE's Spiri't~ not by any other ¯ person, and in the same way the' depths oLGod can only~ be~known by the Spirit of God . we have received the ;Spirit that comes from God, to teach~ usto understand the gifts that he has given us (1 Co 2:10.12)¯ .~ So, filled with the Spirit, consider a moment of transcendence, This could be h peak experience in prayer, nature, music, art~ or literature. It' is ~that time when, ra'vished by beaoty and saturated ~by the ineffable, a depth of awe'brings us to ~h~°~"~bsolute Beyond" present within~us. Caressed by the Inexhaustible, 'we too ~soOn become exhausted by the_qnexpressible; penetration of the Real i~ to~ painful and touch of the Intangible too'unreal. Like Peter, we want to make a tent~make the moment last. Yet, we hesi-tate to remain in this light. For while on eai'th, we human folk do explode when filled with infinity. Once touched by trafiscendency; however, we are almost immediately covered in shadow; our peak experiences will not be timebound. Nothing can or ever will completely capture that in which we pa'rticil~ate. :A photo-graph, won't do it nor will a symphony or a poem. Mo0nbeams will always be for dancing not holding, and the Rockies, will stand majestically right where they are. Reality and ~ur expressions of it cannot co-exist with' the same degree of impact. In our finest moments of creation .(tent making) we experience endless~limitations. Our concretizations.become forever'unsatis-fying. And when we get caught in the trap of thinking that ,any of our achievements determine our worth, then indeed, does the sand of a hollow victory slip through our fingers. As, we.seek what cannot be realized, no con-tainer confine~ the tears, no expression captures the actuality and no,dis-traction disturbs the stillness.of silence~ We wlio experience such, limits long for the 'Unlimited and tears become the release-rdief. ~ ~ '~ :~' Although God "has given us the wisdom to understand' fully the mys~ tery" (Ep I ~9), :it'is only in the moment of trust,that,~we realize underst'and~ ing not solely based on the rational. This wisdom turns us inside out ~and upside down and again we weep because we so need to weep. Even the ligl~t and dazzlingly white parts of transfiguration are blurred. We :live in shadow. Yet, this moment is precious because God is so present, ~ven though veil6'd by cloud: It is in this intimate event that we experience the "existential mo-ment of redemption.'; '~For thus says the Lord Yahweh.~. your salvation lay in conversion and tranquility, your strength, in complete tru'st" ;(Is 30: 15). At first, however, we hesitate to trust the very God who made us;',who We ~lourney Through Tears / 173 Iove~ us with an everlasting love and in whose eyes we are precious. Our pride I~etrays us and we remain too rational to participat.e in ways not our own. Blinded by our desire to have our cak~ and edt it to'Q, we really pre-fer the best of both worlds. Oh yes, we'll, pray but we'll also croffd the soli-tude. We are living examples of being "distracted from distraction by-dis-traction.''' a And why not? After all, we are human. How easily we become ~rey to and proficient in processes of rationalization. Go~l, however, does not rush us. but, per~sistently draws us to himself. Best of all lovers, he is most respectful. It is as though h~ patiently asks: "Will you have me? Will you really have m6?" He gives us Jesus to be our way and to show himself to us (.In 14:6-9). Yet this revelation is always his gift, "because it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith; not by anything of your own. but by'a"gift from God: not by anything,you have d0ne,~so that nobody can claim the credit" (Ep 2:8-9). My virtues do not win this, grace nor do my vices detract from it. Furthermore, it may come witho.ut invitation and planning but never with-o. ut preparation. The gift-giver himself prepares me to receive such'fullness, arid the preparation takes place in the moment of trust. It is then that I am emptied of stubbornness and stripped of~ the tendency to cling to any vanity. In speaking of love, Kahil Gibran poetically exl~resses the depth ahd ex-tent of love's preparation. , When love ~beckons to yQu, follow him, though his ways are hard and ste.ep. And when his wings enfold you yiel.d to him, though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he sp~eaks to" you believe in him. though his voice may shatter your dreams . For even as love crowns yot{ so shall he ~:rucify you. Even as he ascends to your heights and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun~ so shall be'descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.4 In this shaking, I cry all the more; for so many realizations come: 1 must walk a way of unlimited surrender arid constant conversion until the day I leave this earth. I must die while I am alive if I really want to live. And I must lose all if I r~al.ly0~want to participate in the All. As I journey to God I cannot set limits on any sacrifice. I' cannot even expect to avoid suffering, defeat, limitations, failings or misunderstandings. Teilhard de Chardin expresses the diminish.ment I, experience in the rmoment of, trust when he discusses "appa~rent fai~lure and ,its transfiguration." ~ The lives of the saints and generally speaking, the lives of all those who have, been outstanding for intelligenc.e or. goodness, are full of these instapces in~ which one can see the person emerging ennobled, tempered, and renewed from some ordeal, or even some downfall, which seemed bound to diminish or lay the i~erson low forever. Failure . . canalises the sap of bt, r inward life, aT. S. Eli0t5 "Burnt Norton," Four Qigartets. Harcourt, Brace and World, Inc., New York, 1971, p. 17. ~ " 4The Prophet, Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., New York, 1971, p. 13. 17'4 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 disengages the purest "components" of our being in such a way as to make us shoot up higher and straighter . . . In the presence of St. Augustine or St. Mary Magdalen . :. no one hesitates to think . . . felix culpa . . . As a result of His omnipoience impinging upon our faith, events which show themselves ¯ . . as pure loss will become an immediate factor in the union we dream of establishing With Him.:, And with Chardin I become ready to cry out: "O God, grant that I may understand that it is You (provided my faith is strong enough) who are painfully parting the fibres of my being in order to penetrate to the very marrow of my substance and bear me away within Yourself.'''~ During the emptying and parting of fibers, I pray, and in this prayer Jesus so softly, deeply, intimately, gently, repeatedly says to me: Trust Me. I Love You So Very Much; 1 Died For You. You Are Very Precious To Me. I Am With You, And I Know What I Am Doing With And Through You. Trust Me," Even When You Don't Understand. Always Trust Me. After the light and shadow, th6 revelation and mystery of transfigura-tion, when the apostles "suddenly looked round, they saw no one with them anymore but only Jesus" (Mk 9:8). So it is with us; at the end of trans-figuration we see no one but Jesus. In his light we see and don't see; in the shadow we don't see and can't see. And we cry even more because we'd rather play "finders-keepers"; transfiguration, however, teaches us the role of "finders-seekers." Perhaps our stance does not really matter after all. For Jesus, only Jesus, is in both the beauty of light and the cover of shadow. Realizing this, we, too, can hymn to God's love: Nothing therefore can come between us and the love of Christ, even if we are troubled or worried, or being persecuted, or lacking food or clothes, or being threatened or even attacked. : . These are the trials through which we tri-umph, by the power of him who loved us. For I am certain of this: neither death nor life . . . nothing that exists, nothing still to come, not any power . . . nor any created thing, can ever come between us and the love of God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rm 8:35-39). In speaking of his discontent with converting tears, Kahil Gibran hoped to cry the "tears with which I join the broken-hearted." We shall conclude these reflections by considering these tears. Tears With Which I Join the Broken-Hearted Before I can sincerely, sensitively, and caringly cry the "tears with which I join the broken-hearted," I must experience the. comfort of consola-tion from God. And before I can experience his comfort, I will have en-dured suffering. Having reflected on some forms of sfiffering in the discus-sion of pfirification and revelation, we might now consider our experience of God as consoler through St. Paul's own experience of this consolation. ~The Divine Milieu, Harper and Brothers, New York, 1960, pp. 59-60. ~Tt, e Divine Milieu, p~ 62. We Journey Through Tears / 175 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, a gentle Father and the God of all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows, so that we can offer others, in their sorrow, the consolation that we have received from ~God ourselves. Indeed, as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so through Christ, does our consolation over'flow (2 Co 1:3-6). Paul pours out so much to us in this short passage. Prayerfully to travel through parts of it is to immerse ourselves in the immeasurably rich reality of the whole. God is a gentle Father and the God o] all consolation, who comforts us in all our sorrows. ( 2 Co 1 : 3 ). How does one speak of the comfort of God's consolation? Who dares to speak of it? Each of us has perhaps known this rest for our souls. In considering this experience, my words come simply. When I am over-burdened, I go to Him, though not at first, of course, because I am so proud and independent. Finally, however, compelled by an intense, insatiable need, I do go to him (he always invites me [Mt 11:28-30]) and he em-braces me so tenderly and holds me so gently that I wonder why I did not go to him at first. Even when I have resisted going and even when he has waited long for my coming (Is 30: 18), still he greets me as though he had always been my first choice. ~He makes no demands and asks no apologies. Instead, he lavishes me with love and gifts me with his peace, comfort never to be given by anyone or thing in this world (Jn 14:27). And only his peace can dry my tears, heal my wounds, and comfort me to the full. I will heal them and lead them; 1 will give full comfort to them and to those who mourn for them, I the Creator. who gave them life. Peace, peace to the far and the near. says the Lord; and I will heal them (Is 57: 18-19). At. first, the reality of complete relief astonishes me but the Lord fills me so compassionately that I am not overwhelmed. In fact, he enables me to enjoy: ,, A glimpse o[ glory--,I have given them the glory you gave to me" (Jn 17: 22). The glory of grace--"Indeed, from his fullness we have, all of us, received-- yes, grace upon grace" (Jn l : 16). The grace of abiding Love-~"And know that I am with you always; yes, to the end of time" (Mt 28:20). But comfort from the Lord himself, is gift given to be given again, so that we can offer others, in their sorrow, the consolation we have received from God ourselves (2 Co 1 :~). Before reflecting on offering God's consolation to others, however, I must consider my weakness and God's power. When I experience purifica-tion, revelation, and consolation I become increasingly aware of my many weaknesses. At first, this knowledge overwhelms me but the love of Christ overwhelms me more (2 Co 5." 14). Entangled in the web of human limita-tions, I sometimes approach the broken-hearted ready to extend myself. All too soon I cry my own t~ars, not theirs. Readily I become weighed 176 / ~Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 down by their burdens. And unable to sustain such weight I, too, become broken.~To offer human comfort'alone, is to drain a well dry. Dissatisfac-tion with my present limits enables me to realize that on!y the Lord can "give strength to our bones so that we can be like a wat~r.ed garden, like a spring of water whose waters never run dry" (Is 58:11). Only Jesus can prbrhise that: "the water. I shall give will' turn into a spring inside them, welling Up to ~ternai life" (Jn 4: 14). Those whb drink the milk of human comfort°will thirst'again but those who drink "the water that~I shall give will never be thirsty again" (Jfi 4: 14). A~ I b'ecome increasingly aware of my weaknesses I als'o becomeincreas-ingly convinced of the l~owe~ of God. It is St: Paol who helps me in this recognition: "Yes, we were carrying our 'own death warrant with us, and it has taught us n'ot to rely on ours'elves but only on God" (2 Co 1:9). Just as the Lord prevented Paul from'"getting too proud," he encourages me in a Similar manfier: "My grace is enough fo~ you: my ~power is at its best in w6akness" (2 Co ~12:7-9). However, I cannot tangibly ~measure the power of God nor the degree to which I am offering'another the consolation that I have receiqed from God. This is a matter of' faith. In all likelihood, it is not even necessary knowl6dge for me. Besides, "the coming of thi~ king-dom ~f God does not admit of Observation" (Lk 17.:20). Despite my' weakness, the Lord assureff me that I ~:an still be a vehicle for his consolation. At times, I wonder if he almost delights in my weak-ness~ For Paul recalls: "It was to.shame the wise that God chose what is foolish by human reckoning, and to shame whatqs strong that he chose what is weak by human reckoning" (1 Co 1:27-28). This is how ou~" God is. This is how he loves us. He gives to us always all ways. And he is no respecter of strength. "Yahweh is interested . . . in those who rely on his love" (Ps 147:10-11). He is "near to the broken-hearted" (Ps 34:q8). He even permits 'me to witness his love to the broken-hearted. "We, with our unveiled faces reflecting like mirrors the brightness,, of the Lord, all grow brighter and " brighter as we are turned into the image that we reflect" (2 Co 3" 18). But St. Paul also reminds us that "We are only the earthen-ware jars that hold this treasure, to make it clear that such an overwhelm-ing power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). To realize the source of bur strength is a special gift so that we might "never. be ashamed of witnessing to the Lord . . . relying on the power of God" (2 Tm 1:8). Having recognized weakness it is possible ~to say with St. Paul: "I have not lost confidence, because I know who it is that I have put,my tru.st in, and I have no doubt at all that he is able to take care of all that I have entrusted to him" (2 Tm 1:12), Now I am able to cry the "tears with which I join the broken-hearted." And it is through Christ that consolation will Over[tow (2 Co, 1:6). ,We Journey Through Tears / 1177 Conclusion All life pulses with rhythm and the rhythm Of life pulses within me. Just as seasons of the year repeat, so do seasons of the spirit. Therefore, the Gethsemane experience will be repeated in my life. However, upon its return, neither I nor Gethsemane will be the same. A return or returns are each different from the other and each different from any other's. My body may be ravaged by physical pain, my mind tortured by mental anguish, or my faith shaken by spiritual darkness. But God will be with me throughout it all: leading me, teaching me, and advising me. At last, I will enjoy transfiguration not for a moment bat for an eternity: not only Jesus, but Father, Holy Spirit, and the whole c~ourt of Heaven--[orever. My journey will be finished, "the Lord Yahwehlwill wipe away the tears" (Is 25:8), and "there will be no more death, and no more mourning or sadness" (Rv 21:4) ]orever. ,Now Available As A Reprint Colloquy of God With a Soul That Truly Se~ks.Him Price:,. $.3b pei: c0py~. plUs~.postage._ Address:~ ~ ~Review for Religious 612 iHumboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis, Missouri 63103 The God of Brokenness Jean Annette Gustafson, C.S.J. Sister Jean Annette last published in these pages in the September, 1976 issue, pp. 77'1-776. She now works full-time as writer, composer, liturgist and artist. She presently resides at 211 Third Ave.; Venice, CA 90291. Often I find myself reacting to the one-dimensional God of our theologies: the God who is always good, kind, loving, patient, supportive, and affirm-ing. If God is omnipotent and omnipresent, then I cannot reconcile this type of God with the majority of my experiences. Too much of life is harsh, violent, non-supportive and tragic. The human condition is characterized by infinite examples of suffering and brokenness: sickness, death, divorce, shattered relationships, crushed hopes, lost loves. For me to believe only in the God described above is to place him somewhere outside the human con-dition; it is to say he is not presentin some of the most significant moments ,of my life. The only God I can know is the God who reveals himselfwthe God whom I perceive in and through my experience. This is not to say that the God I perceive is really God, for the human mind will never in this life totally comprehend or understand who God is. God is indeed a mystery, a paradox. He does transcend the human co~aditibn and yet is somehow intimately involved with us on a day-to-day basis; he is "unmoved" by hu-man suffering and yet profoundly loves us and cares about our pain; he is active in the world and yet often remains silently passive. What I venture to put forth here is certainly not an attempt on my part to define God. It is, however, an attempt to break, down his usual stereotypes and once more to acknowledge his mystery. I have come to a point in my life where I am acutely aware that our words and theologies of God will always fall short of his reality. Our words--good, kind, loving,,and so forth--are not really God, but symbols 178 The God o] Brokenness / 179 which describe our experience of him. When I say that a patient, supportive, affirming God does not always "work" for me, I am merely saying that these words are incomplete, these symbols do not always describe my ex-perience. In times of great suffering and stress, I perceive a different God who no longer fits into the nice, neat categories into which I usually squeeze him. This article is not intended to imprison God in a new "box," but to present, in words I realize can only be symbolic, another one of his many faces--that of the God of brokenness. This God I have experienced ~ is similar to the Hindu Brahma, who creates, and Shiva, who destroys. My God is both loving and dangerous, gentle and violent. He builds me up and he tears me down. He gives me life and he makes me die. He consoles and yet leads me to the pit of desolation. He is the God of Jacob, who wrestles with me and then leaves me maimed. Like the God of Isaiah, "he is a sanctuary and a stumbling stone" (Is 8: 14). He wounds and bruises (Is 30:26); he immerses me in chaos and leaves me bewildered (Is 34:32); he smashes my defenses (Is 24: 13); he reduces me to nothingness and ruin o(Is 24: 14). I do not believe God actually works to destroy me or that I am but a helpless creature victimized by him. But when I am in the throes of a terrible experience, I certainly am aware of my helplessness before his tremendous power. When I feel like he is breaking me apart, I do not consider him to be good nor do I regard him as gentle. His arrows pierce deep (Ps 38:2); his hands .lie on me heavy and hostile (Jb 30:20). Like a lion, he hunts me down (Jb 10: 16), dashes me to pieces (Jb 16: 12), ani:l wrenches me from all former relationships. He causes dissension within and .around me, and often breaks my heart (see Lk 12:49,-52). With wild ruthlessness, he knocks down what he has built and uproots what he has planted (Jr 45:4). "I am going to break [you] just as one breaks a potter's pot" (Jr 19:10-11 ) ; "Irretrievably shattered, smashed., so that of the fragments not one will remain big enough for any use" (Is 30: 14). This "destructive" side of God is something I find in Jesus. As Simeon predicts, Jesus is the child who "is destined for the fall and for the rising of'many" (Lk 2:34). Jesus is not always the "nice guy"; sometimes he is violent, ,angry, and passionately judgmental~ Blatantly he condemns the Scribes and Pharisees; voci.ferously he expels the money changers from the Temple and overturns their tables; defiantly, he l~reaks all sorts of laws and customs of his culture. He lashes out at Peter, ."Get behind me, Satan!" and curses the fruitless fig tree. He deals almost harshly~with both the Canaanite woman and the woman with the hemorrhage. Jesus is the God-man who comes not to bring peace, but the sword. "I have come to set a man against his father, a daughter against her mother, a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law" (Mt 10:34-6). At the same time, however, Jesus is also someone who is broken by God. Jesus knows only too well what it is to experience hurt and disil- Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 lusionment, the temporariness and fickleness of loves lost. ','You have turned my' friends against me and made' me repulsive to theme' (Ps 88~8)'. "Even my closest and most .trusted friend who shared my table rebels against me" (Ps 41:9; see Jn 13:21 ). Jesus is not always the strong man of Galilee, calling the cards and ~dealing out miracles. He ~is 'a betrayed man,. an aban-doned son, a person whom. his family considers mad and whom his con-temporaries scorn, His agony in the garden is real agony --- close to a com-plete psychological and spiritual breakdown. ',I ~am a worm and no 'man . O :God;:why have you forsaken me?" (Ps 22; Mt 27:46). To perceive that God can"and perhaps does on occasion do violence to us leads me to ask the inevitable: why? Perhaps God is angry and is punishing us.~As the prophet Jeremiah says, ~his is anger that will°burn forever. "We are burnt up by your anger and terrified by your fury" (Ps 90:7). "I will enslave you to your enemies in a country which you do not know, for my anger has kindled a fire that will burn you' up" (Jr 15: 14).0"Yes, a fire has blazed from my anger; it will burn to the depths of Sheol" (Dt 32:22). Perhaps God is jealous (Zc 8:2). "You shall have no gods except me . . . for I am a jealous God, and I punish" (Dt 5:7-9). Or perhaps God.is a stern father, a law-giver, who disciplines and purifies us. "Yahweh your.God is training you as a man .trains his child" (Dt 8:5). "Yahweh reproves the. person he loves, as a father checks a well-loved son" (Pr 3:ll:-12).'Like Jeremiah's potter (or like Pygmalion with Galatea), perhaps God 'tears us down only t6 rebuild and reshape us into 'something better (see Jr 18:4). We are leaky cisterns' which, he must break and then refashion (Jr 2: 13). These answersall seem to play a prominent part in the underlying philosophy of numerous scriptural storie~. God sends a massive flood to destroy the wicked while he rescues Noah'.s family. God destroys Sodom and Gomorrah but sa~es Lot and his relatives. God mak6s the Israelites wander in the desert for forty years until a new generation can be born. God/Hosea punishes his unfaithful wife/Israel but later restores, her to his house. God/Jesus tears down the Temple and in three days rebuilds it. Somehow, howeyer, none of these answers quite satisfy' me. It's not that they are false explanations; it's simply that they define the experience of suffering as something reasonable, as a "means" to something better, instead of as.an experience valuable in and of itself. ~ ~When I suffer with a goal or endpoint in mind, I may live so much in the future that.I remove myself from the present. I somehow anesthetize my pain. -"O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?" In essence, I do not suffer. I deny my reality. When. I suffer "for some-thing," I may reduce faith to a false Pollyanna-ism. ,~'What we suffer in .this life can never be compared tb the glory which is waiting for us'? (RmS: 18). In real suffering~ I do not know how things will turn out; in real life, I never,,can predict the~ future. Suffering does not~ guarantee, anything. Further- The God, o! Brokenness more, this mentality of suffering ,~'for something" may giveobrokenness a redeeming'~quality, .but it sets up a false dichotomy. The sentiment that "Today, I am miserable; tomorrow I will be in God's company" puts God somewhere ,Outside the actual experience of being broken. ,.,,Thus, for me, the .symbol,~"God, of brokenness," encompasses ,still another aspect of the Hindu Godhead: Atman, the God within. I see this God's face"in all ~places and .in all people: the spaced-out, hard-looking Clients of a San Francisco V.D clinic, the urine-splattered body of a friend's alcoholic father, a crazy war veteran who lives with his cat on the Marina del Rey ,.jetty, thee frightened old people who spend their last years waiting for death, the neighborhood 'derelicts who rummage through garbage cans seaching, for food, the ~almost hopeless Vietnamese refugees who are not 9nly alienated from their homes but who are overwhelmed by grief, guilt, and depression. This God .is the God of emptiness and senselessness, of divorce and tragedy. He is a strange God--silent, still, vague . . . a God who redeems ,brokenness, not-by changing it, but by being there himself broken and hurting.- This God is a sad God: one who experiences.misunderstanding and poverty. He is a hungry 13od; the God of the streets, the God 0f .the Third World.~ He is. there in failure, exhaustion, rejection. He is a wounded God, who gets threadbare when we do, frustrated when we are, and wearied when we can no longer keep going. Like Jesus, he weeps over a situation he cannot change (Lk 19:41). "How,~often I have longed to gather you together, as a mother hen gathers her brood under her wings" (Lk 13: 35).~ He cries when one of his friends dies (Jn 11:35). "Tears flood my '~eyes night and day" (Jr 14:1~7). This God is somehow helpless with-us. He can do nothing while sinners prosper and good people are stoned to death (see Mt 23:27; 21:35; 22:6). When we s~uffer, he suffers. To perceive a. God who may be broken is to discover intrinsic value in, the experience ,of brokenness. Brokenness is no longer seen as evil in itself, or something which reflects God's absence. Instead, brokenness be-comes the place where we can touch God in .a new way; we can share with him~on deeper levels,.with greater understanding. "A destruction has been decreed," says the .prophet Isaiah, "that will bring inexhaustible in-tegrity. Though Yahweh has struck. [you] harshly, he will heal [you].-. He will reveal himself to you" (Is 10:22). Job, innocent of any crime.but devastated by God ne.vertheless, concurs. Brokenness establishes for us .a new relationship ~with God. "I knew you tlien only by hearsay, but now, I have seen you with my own eyes" (Jb 42:5-6). Brokenness is not just a bad side of the human condition; it is the foundation of integrity, the place where we encounter God face to face. And because God is there, brokenness becomes essential to the realization of true. liberation and full humanization. To be human somehow, contains the inherent predicament that we 1112 / Review for Religious, l/olume 36, 1977/2 tend to build houses on sand instead of on rock. We seem consistently to Choose the particular~in place.of the universal; 'we settle for myopic truths rather than truths of a cosmic dimension. We see aspects of God, and tl~en label them as God in his entirety. We reverence certain values, and then. give' them too much value. We discover another person, and then make-him° or her into a god. Like Humpty Dumpty, we sit securely on the great plans and structures we have erected, never realizing that they lie directly over the "San Andreas fault." Inevitably they crumble and we fall apart with them, never to be put together again in exactly the Same way. Brokenness hurts so much and affects us so completely because it always involves'the loss of something we value, someone we believe in, a truth upon which we base~ our lives. In a sense, the value, the belief, the base from whii:h our actions flow, are all false gods. To lose something or someone extremely significant shocks us into recognizing that although we have been sincereand t6 the best of our knowledge, righteous--we have also been dishonest. We have limitedtruth to our vision of truth; we have blinded ourselves to the larger reality. When we do encounter the real truth, it nearly devastates us: we hit 9.0 on the Richter scale; we ex-perience the total disruption of our previous life patterns. It is as though We were dismembered, detached, estranged from our own selves. The~ truth hurts. None of us likes to get broken. To preserve our-selves from pain, we necessarily alienate ourselves from truth. This, to me, is the essence of sin. We sin whenever we are content with our present understanding of reality and refuse to hear, see, or feel anything to the contrary. Remember the temptation of Jesus in the desert? It is the tempta-tion not to stumble, not to fall, not to be broken. We sin whenever we try to maintain Our psychological, social, or spiritual, status quo~and thus pre-vent the truth from getting too close. How ingenious we are in employing defense mechanisms which sus-tain our superficial peace of mind! How eagerly we let our inner sirens, like those of Jesus Christ Superstar, lull us to sleep and convince us that we have nothing to be worried about. How quickly we turn off the problem~, subsurface anxieties and fears that upset us/ and believe that everything is as it should be. "With God on our side, who cab be against us?" (Rm 8: 32). Just trust in the Lord, and we shall be saved. This artificial stance is what Kierkegaard would call "philistinism." It is a mediocre type of existence which thrives on safety. Like Chief Bromden, in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, we refuse to "stick out too far," and like Jenny in Ingmar Bergmann's Face to Face, we cannot .probe too deeply within ourselves. Either position is a risk; either can break us. I am beginning to realize that we are all makers of idols in one way ~or another. We close ourselves ~ff to certain parts of reality. If we start feeling uneasy in our self-deception, we simply take another pill, swallow some more bourbon, or enroll in transcendental meditation classes. In some The God. o] Brokenness / ! 113 area of ou¢.~iives and' our relationships, we .d.ull our truth-receptors and choose to live--again, like Chief Bromden--in a perpetual state of fog. So much of our "normal" ' existence so effectively evades the truth, that it takes a bizarr~ and catastrophic event to. make us realize, with Dr. Martin Dysart in Equus, the enormity of our numbness and the magnitude ofour 'repression. No wonder that when promises and relationships (which were really founded on incomplete truths) are broken, so' many of us have emotional and nervous breakdowns. Brokenness forces us to re-evaluate our vision of-reality, reassess our beliefs and values, and perceive the truth more comprehensively. What continues to amaze me is the belief that in Jesus I not only find a broken man who stumbles and falls all the way to Calvary, but a broken God who stumbles, falls, and is crucified. The God-man on the cross is the most" incredible event in history. It not only boggles my mind; it shocks me (like St. Paul who got knocked down from his horse) into new levels of awareness. That God would choose to become part of the human condi-tion, that he would be incarnated as Jesus, that he would allow himself to be broken, forces me to see reality in a new way. Truth becomes larger than I ever imagined. My former truths, like clothes which have shrunk, are no longer big enough. I have changed. I am somehow more honest, and thus, mor~ capable of achieving liberation. I believe that the God-man on the cross happens every time we suffer, every time we wait withoot hope, every time we lose heart. In brokenness, we enter an altered state; our consciousness expands, deepens, matures. We become necessarily more humble, for we now realize our grasp of truth is not~as all-encompassing as we once thought, our power to control the future is not as absolute as we would,have liked, we' are not really made up of "sugar.-and spice and all things nice." We are not yet honest, not yet free, not yet human. We cannot put new wine in old wine skins, nor can we put new truths in old structures. To become new, to become whole, adult,' ~integrated, means to somehow "suffer in God's way," "to change for.the better" (2 Co 7: 10): We must. detach ourselves from our old struc-tures and bonds; we must constantly undergo experiences of brokenness. We.must "break the unjust fetters and undo .the thongs of the yoke . . . to let the oppressed [in and outside us] go free" (I~ 58:6). It is beginning to make some sense to me ~why such towering persons of G0d--Augustine, Teresa of Avila, Joan of Arc, and countless others-- are all persons who have known brokenness, not just once, but over and over again. "It is indeed a dreadful thing," as the author of Hebrews tells us, "to fall into the hands of the living God" (Heb 10:31). To establish an honest relationship with God is to live, as Teresa writes in the twenty-first chapter of her Autobiograph~,~"a troubled life, never without its crosses, but a life of great growth." To t~y and yet to make mistakes, to be sincere 184 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 and yet to fail, to give everything and. realize it is still not enough, is.to be, come more human and, I think, more like God. Perhaps what I am writing about is another version of John of the Cross' last Night of God, Albert Camus' existential stance in the face of absurdity, the Gestalt therapists' belief that we must experience and value our suffering. In each of these systems of thought, we are called upon to suffer with a courage which~'in a way surpasses faith. For m~e,~the God of brokenness is a symbol which evokes from me the realization that God al-ways transcends what I believe about him, and thus challenges me beyond faith to a courage to let go of my questions and also m~y answers. Like Job--face to face with the God of brokenness l receive not only the power to persevere through suffering, but the power to heal and be healed. This is what I think Paul means when he writes:- "I struggle wearily on, helped only by his power driving me irresistibly" (Col 1:29). If we can but touch this broken God, contact mystery and let it remain mystery~ then shall our wounds be .quickly healed over (Is 58:9), then shall we obtain new life, then shall our broken hearts be revived (Is.57:15). "I will heal [you] and console you," says the God of Isaiah. "I will comfort you to the full, both you and your afflicted companions . Peace, pe~ace to far and near, I will indeed heal you" (Is 57:18-19). 1 do not write these things lightly, nor are they, for me, "pie-in-the-sky" truisms. I write them as someone.who is just now emerging from an. over-whelming three-year experience of being crushed and broken. I have not been able to put myself together as before, nor, for that, matter, have ."all the king's horses and all the king's men" been any more successful. But, almost like Ezekiei's vision of the dry bones, I feel my disjointed parts knitting together in a new way, with a new identity, a greater integrity, and a freer spirit. God is active and present in my experience; his spirit is breathing life into my broken pieces. ,Not only has brokenness changed me, it is increasing my capacity to act and live so that the liberation and humanization of others can also take place (whether these others live in the Third World, in my, neighbor-hood, or in my family/community). As St. Paul says, it seems we mu~st suffer change within ourselves so that we may be better able to increase love, build stronger bonds between persons, improve our k~nowledge of reality, and deepen our perception of the entire trtith (see Ph 1:9). Broken-hess-- with its simultaneous experience of a passive God--is forcing ,me to acknowledge my limitations, but also forcing me to accept the responsibifity to do what I can to eliminate the oppressors of the human spirit. ~, ~ I do believe in a God of love, but I also know that I do not know what these words mean. Perhaps, as Noel O'Donoghue writes: "Love is first and last the heart open to be wounded again and again and again.~. Where the tears of things, the tragedy of life has touched ~me most poignantly, :The God o/ Brokenness / 185 there, in that direction is the heart of God.''1 For me, a God 6f love is also a God of brokenness--who breaks me (or allows me to be broken), and yet who is broken with me. I do not understand suffering, nor do I understand him. All I can really say is that I have been br~okeg, I am being healed, I will be broken again. And somewhere in my suffering, he will be there. O God, whoever you may be, I pray for the ever increasing ability to see your truth clearly and to keep trying despite all obstacles. Do not let my floundering be for nothing or my agony wasted . Batter my heart, three person'd God; for, you As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new (John Donne, "Divine Meditations, 14,). 1Noel Dermot O'Donoghue, O.C.D. "The Faces of God," Doctrine and Li/e, Sept. 1976, pp. 639 and 643. Soliloquy of a Seed Something tells me to surrender ail' I am and hope to be; and (o de~s'cend the dark of earth to be transformed into a tree; but~to go up dare I go down and think a tree can fit in me? Edward A. Gloeggler P~O. Box 486 Far Rockaway, NY 11691 Cooperation or Opposition: Analytical Psychology and Christianity Approach Suffering Josef Goldbrunner Professor Dr. Goldbrunner is on the faculty of the University of Regensburg, Ger-many. Analytical psychology and Christianity constitute two theoretical systems; they are both patterns of life as well as two theories about salvation. What is their mutual relationship? Is cooperation between them possible or are they fundamentally opposed to one another? This question is 'to be examined with regard to another question which distresses them both--the question of suffering, We shall investigate the effect the two have on those who suffer, not only theoretically but in the instance of concrete results. How much supportive and effective force does Christianity exert on those who suffer? And what effective force lies at the disposal of Jung's analytical psychology? The method chosen for our investigation is that of the "soul's journey," a method Dante likewise selected as the basis for his Divine Comedy. In the present instance, however, we have in mind a contemporary soul-journey; and we envision, as it were, a skyscraper with an elevator in which we will ride from top to bottom through all the stories down into the basement where the foundations of the structure--analogous to the dwelling place of the soul--are anchored. A stop will be made at some of the stories and the problematics involved in each stop will be debated. I From the penthouse at the very top of the building we gaze out into a landscape of suffering whose traces are evident everywhere: psychic suffer-ing, .spiritual suffering, mental suffering; and in every instance pain is pres- 186 Cooperation or Opposition / 1117 ent like a devouring, caustic acid. The full]/ human experiencing of such pains we term suffering. Is there any remedy for this suffering, any rcure or perhaps even a deliverance from it? A terrifying landscape of suffering lies before us, a landscape which at first glance seems meaningless. Dare this suffering exist? Ought it to be? Must it be? Is suffering an .evil or is it good? And not only do we encounter evil as' something existent, but men as well who of themselves increase it. These are questions which have plagued mankind since the beginning of time. If we descend one story, however, we will discover there, stored in a library as it were, the answers which mankind has proposed to these self-same queries. Let us begin with antiquity: Vergil knew that objects, too, have their tears--sunt lacritnae rerum--and Aeschylus had his Agamemnon state that "in suffering there is knowledge." That is the pedagogical value of suffering, a value 'which is still a contested issue. Then, too, there are books in which the pain of initiation rites is described, pains of growth or "becoming" in-flicted during such rites. There are, furthermore, books which glorify this pain as a type~of mysticism of sufferingi Christian spirituality in particular has contributed to the support of this attitude: through suffering one merits heaven, for suffering is a form of participation in the sacrifice of Christ. We can also discover books about the intoxication of pain, books which originated in archaic mystery cults, As a result of this intoxication of suffering an explosion-like expansion of consciousness is produced which extends into the realm of religious experience: Although the aging and .morose Schopenhauer denied that pain has any meaning whatever, Kant spoke of its immanent value to life~ Nietzsche elevated it to the level of an heroic stature and Teilhard de Chardin maintained that pain is indeed a propellent force in the process of evolution. In the writings of India we are taught that it is only through repeated rebirths that we are ultimately freed from pain. In the books of the Jews pain is looked upon as a punishment for guilt and is required for the confirmation of the good. And then there is Camus. In his novel The Plague he~ says to the dentist: "We ought not to rest so long as there is one child who is still suffering. A god who would allow such a thing--no~ there is no god." The poet Hermann Claudius once penned the noteworthy verse: " 'Great God of eternity, do You will joy or sorrow?' And the voice above me spoke, 'Why do you distinguish be-tween the two?' " Thorton Wilder remarked sarcastically: "Why have the gods not expressed themselves more plainly in this matter?" And Berdyaiev, who died in 1948 as a Russian 6migr6 in Pai'is, speculated in his famous boo~, The Meaning o[ History, about the possibility of a catastrophy which erupted within~the bosom of the Trinity: pain may well have arisen as a direct consequence of this catastrophe and God himself had to make 188 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 amends for this by personally entering into the world,and gathering it unto himself. Answer follows upon answer. In the final chorus of the Passion Accord-ing to "St, Matthew we are told: "Amid tears we. sit down," but it is pre-cisely this, ho~vever, that we no longer are able to do. Sorrow shouldo.nOt be; that is the protest that weighs upon our shoulders today. We ought to do everything in our .power to ward off pain.Can analytical psychology be of any ,assistarice here? And .Christianity, what can it effect in this. at.ca? What can the therapist do to alleviate suffering? What, the pastor of souls? III ~ Let us descend one more story where we come upon a therapist's con-sultation office. Across from him sits a patient whose eyes radiate an intense suffering, a, spiritual~ pain, a person who can no. longer, frge himself.from his own nightmares. Hideous monsters harass him, close in upon him, and the more he tries to ward them off, themore they pursue him, the more loath-some they become. He endeavors to defend himself against all this horror, against theseS'negative factors that seek to force their way out of his uncon-scious into .,his consciousness. Then the therapist demands of him that he overcome this dualism, this .dichotomy within himself, by accepting this darkness~within him, by admitting that these monsters spewing forth evil are also. an integral part of his nature. The patient .stares at him without comprehension, even more, with spiritual horror. He is to be~not only Jupi-ter, but Saturn as well? Not only: Apollo but equally. Dionysus,~,Faust and Mephistopheles? And help, he. is told; can be obtained, only if he.':over-comes~ this dissension, this dualism~ and admits that this darkness .is only a part of himself. Yes, this is the way to wholeness, the way.~of integration of the darkness within one's own inner self. This is the juncture at which curative indivjduation occurs. Analytical psychology points out ways to such a possibility,for life; Who-ever has once gazed into the horrified eyes of one suffering in such a man-ner, ,one caught within such a personal crisis; and whoever has seen how there gradually emerges from this horror a composite of shuddering and fascinated astonishment, because in this commingling of good,,and evil, .of joy and.grief, in this union of light and darkness a new dimension reveals itself, a religious dimension actually; whoever has experiqnced these things for himself knows that the way of individuation is indeed a~form of healing which leads one from the depths of spiritual suffering to new life: That,is the way out of the dualism of light and darkness to the ,fusion of their antitheses; out of the enmity of good and e.vil, the enmity~of good and,evil tendencies, to the reconciliation of, the, two; from the separation of the conscious from its roots in. the subconscious to wholeness; from fruitless suffering to a type of rebirth. Medical experience has discovered the truth of this again and again with reference to individuals, the individual.patient. Isit Cooperation or Opposition / !119 not possible that the way of individuation is of equal verity with reference to the collective life of.mankind? Would it not be possible, then, that ana-lytical psychology could also aid in the alleviation of the' great .sufferings of all mankind? ~ ~ . IV , Let us now leave the therapist's consultation room and'take the elevator down another story to his study, a veritable replica of.the chambers of Doctor Faust. A book is lying on his desk, a copy of Jung's Answer to Job, and across from the psychol~herapist sits a thrologian who is at the same time an expert in pastoral care, a man in other words who" is not only learned in the area of theory but one who from personal experience is in-timately 'acquainted with the heights and depths of the human soul. He places a copy of the Holy Scriptures on the desk in front of him and a dialogue ensues between the two, the psychotherapist and the theologian, between psychology and Christianity. In his book Answer"to Job Jung poured forth all the. professional anger in his soul his anger with God, the creator of such a'world, and his anger with Christianity which often enough only increases the sufferings of man here on earth. The book is, however, also an attempt to apply 'his theory of individuation to the question of the sufferings of mankind. Although he is not able to provide a wholly satisfactory answer to this question, otir expectation allows us to hope that he will be able at least to convert the torture chamber into an operating room. Let us listen a moment to Sbme of his argument and share a portion of his Answer to Job. Dichotomy, dualism, division--these constitute the source of all un-happiness; but especially the dichotomy between the conscious and the un-conscious, between light and darl~ness and, too, between good and evil. This dichotomy within the soul is projected onto our image of God kand thus God is drawn into the dichtomy within the human soul. According to Jung, Christian teaching has recognized only the luminous Christ as the Son of God, while his dark brother, Satan, has been wholly separated from God. In a very early stage 0f the development of Jewish theology, Satan was still a member of the heavenly.court and he bore the title LuCifer, the bearer of light (Jb 1:6). Christianity, however, drove him out from the court of heaven, thrust him down into hell and thereby separated evil from God. In God resides only good, and consequently all evil, all wickedness had to be eliminated from the image.of God. The orientatiow toward such an image of God, however, must necessaiily have negative repercussions on man, who will then seek to repress into .himself all forms of darkness arid to force his shadow down into his subconscious. It is there that the devil now rages and generates collective explosions the two World Wars and the ter-rible interlude in Germany between these wars. If we would but dare once again to alter the image of God, to concede that Christ and Satan are:both 190 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 Sons of God, to unite light, and darkness, good and evil, to reconcile joy and pain, and to recognize in God the conjunction of antitheses as a complexio oppositorum; and then, if man would have the courage to identify himself with such an image of God, then indeed mankind would open a way for accepting the evil and shadow within itself, an acceptance with even a religious basis, for it would but reflect the very nature of God himself. Were this so, ext, reme tensions would subside to a bearable and politically manageable level. The conscious would be so conjoined with the subconscious that henceforth evil could be controlled by man and never again would, the explosions of warfare have to erupt from within the structure of society. That would indeed be a way for mankind out of count-less sufferings. This is a fascinating train of thought and, even though the exegesis of Ju.ng's book is now long out-of-date, we do find in it an image of God the contemplation of which demands great courage: God as bright and dark, good and evil, an image which nonetheless could prove to be the remedy for the hopeless situation of the world today. Were this concept to prevail, analytical psychology would be more than a mere medical, discipline; by abandoning the consultation rooms of the doctor, psychological therapeutics would evolve from a healing science to a salvific science. But let us not at- ~tempt to take the easy way out. There are passages in the Old Testament which seem to verify Jung's view: see Is 45:6-7: ". I am the Lord, and there is none else~ I form the light, and create darkness; I make peace, and create evil . " And in Lm 3:38: "Shall not both evil and good pro-ceed out of the mouth of the Most High?" The image of God in the Old Testament would seem to confirm what Jung proposed. The theologian sitting opposite the therapist begins to speak: "I under-stand your whole protest, sir, the protest of the doctor, .of mankind, the protest of a grieving and sickened mankind. And I admit that appearances seem to speak in your favor. I have one main objection, however, to your position: your way does not penetrate the world within, it does not breach the inner realm of the soul, for this image of God consists only of a projec- ,tion from within man himself. Whoever seeks to address the question of suf-fering, however, has to break through to the exterior world, he would have to coordinate his image of God to God's. own reality--and this cannot be accomplished solely with projections from within man's inner world. As a theologian, I would like to advance an argument of my own. "My first argument can be found in the New Testament in I Jn 1:5: '. God is light and in Him is no darkness.' According to the evidence of biblical exegesis, light in this instance signifies ethical perfection. In God, therefore, there is no contact with moral evil. God is light and no darkness exists within him. To project darkness onto the being of God contradicts the clear statement of Holy Scripture. On this issue, Christianity clearly opposes Jung's Answer to Job." Cooperation or Opposition / 191 This position, however, creates a new difficulty for theology, concerning which one cannot remain naive and say that God is good and everything evil springs from somewhere else. Even the. theologian must make God re-sponsible for the evil and wickedness and suffering in the world, for God created a suffering world. Consider only the fears of animals--fears of one another, of earthquakes, floods and epidemics with all their consequent sufferings. God is directly responsible for all of this physical evil. In con-trast to this, however, it is necessary to distinguish moral evil, because of which an excessive amount of pain is engendered in the world and through which the .physical evil present is increased even more--as for example through the agency of war. Although this moral evil stems from man himself,~ God did create man with this inherent possibility and thus he also is responsible, albeit indirectly, for the moral evil in the world. He effects salvation, and creates evil., he leads into temptation! Is God, therefore, evil after all'?." But 1 Jn 1:5 states that "God is light and in Him there is no darkness." A modern mystic, Marie Noel, wrote: "For God, the Sovereign Good, cannot be suspected.TM Christianity has indeed rejected all teachings which defile the image of God. The question thus remains: Since he is responsible for everything, since he effects both redemption and evil, what attitude is one to assume toward such a God? There are three possibilities. The first one is atheism, .the denial of the very existence of God. The second is the way indicated by Jung, the projec-tion namely of both good and evil into the nature of God~ In both of these instances human modes of thought have been made the measure of God. The third possibility is the open question of whether it is not possible that God is responsible for everything, and yet he is only light without any admixture of darkness. This is something enigmatic. Perhaps angther, a supernatuial possibility is open to God? This open question has always been a thorn in the flesh of a thinking Christianity, ,an open wound that will not heals, but one that prevents us from locking ourselves up within the inner chambers of our soul. It spurs us on rather continually to attempt to break through from the immanent to the transcendent. Expressed in simple terms this means that our open question compels us to permit God to be God and not a human being. Karl Barth stated the problem in a very speculative and scientific sounding formula when he said that this was the "ultimate exhaustion of systematic theological speculation." Despite all responsibility for suffering in the world, there is no darkness within God--a dilemma in-capable of solution in human terms. Thus, it is that indeed on ~principle analytical psychology and Christianity differ one from the other. A second argument consists in the fact that, although one might expect Christ to have revealed something about suffering and to have clarified its 1Marie Noel (pseud. for Marie Melanie Rouget), Notes ]or Mysel] (Notes intimes). Tr. by Howard Sutton. Cornell University Press, 1968, p. 33. 192 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 significance, he did nothifig of the kind. He refused to argue with, the Pharisees'~about it or to offer any explanation whatsoever. His own disciples thought.'within the framework of a correspondence between guilt and punishment, and thus when they asked him in the case of the man who had been born blind who was responsible for his blindness, he himself or his parents (Jn 9:1-2), Christ answered, "None of them." Beyond this he did not go--he, offered no proof. He never spoke of the how or the whence or the wherefore of suffering, nor did he promise in any way that our human condition would ever change. He did, however, proclaim a new Day of the Lord on.which the creator would once again touch the world with his creator-hands ~ind remove all suffering. On that day he will cause all former things to pass away and will "wipe away each tear" (Apoc 21: 4).~This is all a reference to some time in the~future and thus to an act of redemption, hot of healing. Can one really take this promise seriously and yet maintain that .it is but ~a futile and ineffectual consolation against a far distant future, aovain 'promise of better things to come in some far distant time? That would indeed be an .expansion, of consciousness to a far distant and ~future" horizon. This' attitude demands of the Christian first of'all a renunciation, of any°reasoned proof for the necessity of suffering; secondly, a reservation and modesty in judgment before the enigma of the question of suffering,' which ought thus to be treated as a "question of discretion" in relation to God~ and thirdly, it is demanded of the Christian that he sur-render ,himself to suffering. ~ ~ This leads~directly to a third argument, the distinction, namely, be-tween' "evil~''~ and its.,"fuiiction." Evil does remain evil, but it can have a positive function. Pain is terrible, but it can also have a positive function. Suffering ought.,not to be, nor should it be allowed to continue to exist, and yet it too can exert a positive effect. Although the evil ~remains evil, even ~in has positive :consequences. That is the mystery of the felix culpa, The why and the wherefore of evil and wickedness and suffering are connected With God, although we are unable to explain how. But what we can ascer-tain is at least a .part,.a thread of this whole skein of realities, namely 'that the function, of evil','or wickedness or even pain can be positive as well as negative. Let us discuss this matter in somewhat greater detail, An excellent and telling example of this point of view is to be found in Lhe story of, the prodigal son and the banquet given in his honor upon his return home (Lk 15:1-32). His sin remains sin, the evil he committed re-mains' evil, the suffering he caused remains suffering--this is something he did do, something which did hurt his father. Later, however, in conversa-tion with his father during~the celebration banquet, the son begins to under-stand for the' first time"his 'father's maturity, and for the first time the father can rejoice at the reasonableness of his son who at long last has outgrown his ~child!sh naivete~ This certainly does not imply Some form of mysticism of sin, nor is it an appeal to sin, for in no way was it certain that. the son Cooperation or Opposition /d93 would ever find his way home again. He could just as easily have lost his way forever. But for him who returns we rejoice. This positive function of suffering is an experience which analytical' psychology has concretely ascertained and with which it operates; it relies upon it as a medicinal factor in the,process of curing. To this extent the psychotherapist is a specialist in the area of pain, and to an equal degree the pastor of souls should likewise be such an expert in the same area. This is one of the fruits of the theory of integration of the darker elements of man's nature into his conscious personal!ty. The function of wickedness, evil and pain, therefor.e, can be something positive. Analytical psychology will share this experience with Chr!stianity if Christianity will but renounce naive thinking and forego its predominant modes of thought. To this extent these two theo-retical systems can attai~ a mutual understanding. V Christianity, however, knows something more, a something which can-not be discussed in the atmosphere of~a polemic. Let us, therefore, abandon the room where the psychotherapist and theologian sit across from one another and descend a few more stories of our skyscraper. There0w,e will come upon a chapel suffused with the "air of individuation," that is a s, till-ness with a meditative atmosphere, a quietness that radiates a presentiment of transcendence. And let us fu~'ther imagine that at this precise moment a woman is entering the chapel, a woman who has been sl.andered, and against which slander she cannot defend herself. This calumny has hu-miliated her beyond description and its grave con.s~eqences have seriously affected her marriage, her social position--indeed her whole life. The only thing that she can do, this Christian woman, is to let the suffering in her soul rage itself out until she is wholly burnt out within. At this point in her life she now stands squarely be,fore the Pauline e,xperience of kenosis; the function of her suffering is no longer somethi.ng merely psychic, for in her it has also assumed a theological dimension, a theological reality which cannot be clarified by means of some theory. It is rather only through the aid of symbols that one .can hope to lay bar( .what is happening in-the woman's heart, that we can begin to perceive her struggle in the midst of .the burning pains of her humiliation, in the fluctuating rise and fall of her emotions, in her cries for succor; in the absence of any answer to her grief. All of this is veiled within symbols, and yet at the same time re-vealed by them: Buddha smiles--Christ weeps. Buddha sits--Christ treads the way of the cross Buddha seeks to destroy the ability to suffer--Christ, however, assumes the burden of,the cross Buddha remains silent--Christ cries out upon the cross 194 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 Buddha dissolves his being into the great Nirvana--Christ however, is awakened from the dead Buddha detached all disciples from himself--Christ will draw all men to himself (Jn 12:32). It is a function of suffering:that, by wholly emptying itself, it fights its way through to ultimate humiliation and degradation until everything within it is consumed and dissolved. But then there follows an ascent, a rebirth. The woman leaves the chapel and her bitterness of heart may well have been transformed into a compassion for every living creature. She does not know how this happened, or why, but she experiences it nonetheless, the experience of a transformation. She is not necessarily comforted--for in her soul something was indeed consumed by flames--but she is strength-ened. As Paul Claudel once wrote: "God does not comfort, but he does strengthen." This truth of Christian experience still exceeds what analytical psychology can effect. VI So as not to abandon the basis of sober fact, let us descend yet another story where we enter a dentist's office. He is just about to begin drilling a patient's tobth. Let us also imagine that for some reason or other he was unable to anesthetize the patient's mouth before drilling. He thus demands of his patient the' a.cceptance of the pain to follow, a searing agony likened only to some invention of the devil. This is in a way a tragicomical situation to be enacted in a dentist's chair and one in which there are no heroes. The situation, however, has the advantage of being able to prepare the pain cleanly and in every detail, pain in the purest form, as it were. At this juncture, all of our theories collapse like houses built of cards. When the whole scene is over, we experience a most remarkable sensation, as if some-how something foreign had touched us, as if in a way we were standing on the border of a new dimension of reality. And we are also perhaps thank-ful that the pain, though not our own, has ceased. From where did the man derive the courage to endure such suffering, and to do so in silence? And what transpired in us during the operation? Theoretically we are indeed unable to imagine this, but in the form of a dream it can be done. VII Now let us descend to the lowest sub-basement, where the foundations of both our imagined skyscraper and our psyche are anchored. In a dream series one dream is repeated again and again: a cave in a forest and flight from the cave. In the next dream, however, the following occurs: This time, in spite of great fear, I entered the cave. Suddenly I had to stop because I had come upon the edge of an abyss or chasm. It was horrible just to gaze into it and I could not bring myself to do so. Finally, however, I did look down and then I experienced a moment of terrifying fear, a moment Cooperation or Opposition / 195 of hatred and desperation. Everything within me was thrown into disorder and as I stood there looking down, the chasm suddenly was not there any more. A stream of clear and flowing water had assumed its place, At this point, two questions arise: First, what really is happening in the dream? Abyss, fear, hatred, desperation--is that what dying is like? Some-thing in the dreaming person had to die. "Everything within me was thrown into disorder," he said. The stages of this transformation are clear: the sur-rendering of one form of life by gazing down into the abyss--the descent into a chaos which is simultaneously a creative chaos. Suddenly--and one is not certain how or why, since this is decidedly not an intellectual process which can be initiated or manipulated--an ascent, a rebirth is symbolized by a stream of clear flowing water, the water of life, the sign of a new life. Is the mystery of suffering ultimately the same as the mystery of kenosis: dying, chaos, new life? A sense of awed modesty in the face of such an occurrence cannot fail but to seize those who have ever been permitted to witness such .an event, be it as psychotherapist or pastor of souls or simply as a fellow .human being. A second question here 'forc6s its way to the fore: whence did the pa-tient derive the courage finally to stare down into the abyss, to confront his suffering? ~The intensification of his personal crisis, the increasing pressure of his suffering are without a doubt contributing factors. Certain energetic dynamics of his psyche must also have urged him forward. Just as as-suredly, however, this ~was also a question of inner stature and for this very reason such courage cannot be demanded of those with lesser internal forti-tude. An equal role, however, must be attributed to the effect of the ther-apist whose consciousness influenced, in an intellectual manner, the con-sciousness bf the patient; in like manner, too, his unconscious influenced the patient's unconscious. (This non-verbal communication can go so far that the patient's dreams and those of the psychot.herapist's are actually identical, a fact attested by recent research in this area.'-') The 'transformation must also have been effected by the fact that the third psychic instance in the psychotherapist--one might call it the "self" or even the "person"--in-fluences the nucleus of the patient's own person. That is the non-verbal, cura-tive gift which can effect courage, the courage tO gaze down into the abyss and to accept this suffering and thisdying. It is also an invitation to a further penetration and absorption into one's inner sel~. This is a process which cannot be manipulated; and whether the patient is willing to cooperate in the process, whether he or she.participates wholeheartedly and with under-standing, can only be the result of a composite of pressure from suffering, inner fortitude and freedom, free choice. At this point psychotherapy is no longer merely a form of mechanics, but has become rather a communica, tion between therapist and patient, an exchange worthy of a human being. zH. Dieckmann, "Der Traum und das Selbst im Menschen," in Analytische Psycho- ~ Iogie, V (1974), 1-16, esp. pp. 11-12. 196 / Review for Religious, lZolume 36, 1977/2 The pastor of souls also exerts an influence on the faithful, consciously in conversation with them, subconsciously when he suffers with them, as St. Paul said: "Weep with those who weep." But over and above this, the nucleus of his person influences that of the other, and if faith dwells there and~ inothis faithS,~ the pneuma, the blowing of the Holy Spirit, then here we encou~nter a new, a pneumatic dimension which is not to be found in depth psychology. In-this instance Christianity goes beyond analytical psychology. If the .Christian participateg in this movement, his participation is also the result of a con~posite; a composite of the pressure from suffering, inner forti-tude, freedomS,and faith. It can indeed be maintained that, with respect to thei'r efficacy fbrothose who suffer, analytical psychology and Christianity do share much~ ih .common; Christianity, however, exceeds their common bond, it goes :a,step beyond it~ VIII Let us now leave the cellar and mount upward again. After such a "jour-ney of the soul" one ought to recover one's equilibrium over a .glass of wine, or~better yet by participating in a' symposium. A portion of Plato's Sym-posium thus geems fitting here: the participants have spent the 'night in di;inking and revelry and have fallen asleep, including Aristodemos, 'the commentator of the final scene. On th6 following morning, as the cock be-gins to crow,~.he awakens and sees that onlythree others are also awake-- Socrates and two of his drinking compahions. They have filled a huge bowl with wine and in' honor of the gods of morning, they pass it around from one to the other, each one sha~ing it with his neighbor on the right. Socrates is trying to explain to his companions that a truly gifted writer of tragedies must at:,the same time also be a writer of comedies. This is that famous Socratic irony that reappears again and again and which Guardini interprets thusly.' "The thinking man realizes that realities exist which exceed his ability to formulate.''':~ ~ Human, words cann~3t encompass the truth, and one should be able to laugh at this, just as Socrates and his companions did. Having now taken a soul-jc~urney through the great question of suffering, weighed terrifying questioris and looked into the depths of various chasms, the ultimate re-mains to be said: we have no answers. We. have nonetheless experienced something about the efficacy of suffering. This can annoy us; yet on the Other hand we can laugh at it as well. To us as Christians the latter is be-fitting. In conclusion we might well cite Harvey Cox who, in a diagnosis of the religious attitude of our present age, made a statement that is in essence aparaphrase of this very Socratic irony: "Comic hope is the mood of Our embryonic religibus sensibility today.'"' :~Romano Guardini, Stationen und Ruckblicke. Wurzburg, 1965, p. 49. ¯ 'Harvey Cox, The Feast of Fools. A Theological Essay on Festivity and Fantasy: Harvard University Press, 1969, p. 156. A Movement Toward Hope: Christian Fraternity of the Sick Pdtricia Loivery, M.M, Sigt~r ~Pdtri~:ia has, ~f late, become a frequent contributor to these pages. Twenty-five years i~ ~P~r6, she resides at the~conveht o[ Madres de Maryknoll; Casilla 491; A~requi~a; Perti." ~ - ,~ Ond~of the most moving experiences of~Christian .community in which I have shared took place in a house dedicated to "Our Izady. of Happiness." The o~casiian was the "VI National Assembly 6f the Christian Fra~ternity, of the Sick." At this week-long meeting 53 delegates from 14 dioi:eses in Per(= gathered tb. review the past work of the fraternity and set new goals for the,ftiture. The~tffeme of the meeting was: "A New Man for a New Society." The model of that ne~v nian, of'course, ~was th~ Risen ChriSt, but~ Iosaw be-foreome~ men= and women' Who were veiy much in the process of becoming "new;' thdmselve'~. The majority of the delegates were young (20-_30), °most were severely handicapped and all were utterly ingpiring.=;Being with v~aliant handicapped people was, not a new experience for me, but somehbw the un2selfconscibus~ happy and dedicated way they approached the work at hand ,was asterling exampleoof what the,'fraternity is all about: These people, 'having passed through~theirodarkest moments of suffering with the help of others, were now ready and eager' to share the vision of their, new life and the source of their happiness. Each had0his, particular story but ho one was~much con-cerned about dwelling on it, and certainly, there was no trace of self-pity or need for sympathy. The atmosphere was one of normal, happy, enthu-siastic people .facing .a challenging .task; the complete acceptance of one another promoted full and active participation on.the part~ of all. ~ Our long,day began in the chape!~where our best sharing and dialogue 197 1911 / Review for Religious, ,Volume 36, 1977/2 took place. The hours sped by as we attended meetings, did household chores (dish washing was a fun time!), relaxed, sang, introduced the whole group to particular areas of the country through slides, typical dances and stories, attended uplifting liturgies, and offered a helping hand (or foot) to anyone in need of it. There are numerous examples that could be cited to make one marvel at what handicapped people can do, but I prefer simply to' state the fact that there is nothing they cannot do, especially when gathered together in a house of "happiness." In this article, I would like to give some specific information about the Christian Fraternity of the Sick--its history, spirit, structure, concerns and hopes for the future. History In 1942, in the City of Verdfin, France, a young woman named Mar-garita Renaud was in the hospital. At the same time, the chaplain, P~re Franqois (now Auxiliary Bishop of Verdfin) became a patient. During his time of recuperation, and having learned from his own experience of suf-fering, he began to see the patients in a new light and treat them with new interest. One day he suggested to Margarita that she write to several other sick in the city, inviting them to visit the hospital; three of them responded to the invitation. Two weeks later, five came t6 visit Margarita and P~re Franqois and all committed themselves to visit other sick in their homes. From then on, they met every two weeks to discuss their visits and to share their insights. Pi~re Franqois led them tO a deeper understanding of Scripture and of Christian community. Thus began the Fraternity of the Sick--a movement of the sick for the sick. ~, ¯ Two years later, thirty-fivemembers, some on stretchers and. in wheel2 chairs, made a pilgrimage to the shrine of the Virgin in Benoite-Vaux, and there they celebrated the '~'birthday" of the fraternity. Little by little, it spread to almost all the dioceses of France, ,to Switzerland, Belgium, Ger-many, Africa, Canada and Spain. From Spain it was brought to Mexico and to the countries of Central and South America. On March 1,. 1967 the seed was planted in Perti by a~dynamic Jesuit, Padre Manuel Duato. His own personal experience of physical pain coupled with a joyous, bouyant spirit won him many followers among0the sick and handicapped in Peril. They nicknamed him: "Padre Quitapenas"--the priest who takes the pain away. His friends grieved deeply when. he died of can-cer in December of 1973. His memory is perpetuated in his lasting gift to them: a new way of life--the way of hope, courage and joy. " The spirit of the fraternity is both realistic and idealistic. The realism is the acknowledgment that we are limited, weak, sick. We are not afraid of the word "sick," but we do protest the commonly used word "invalid" A Movement Toward Hope / 199 because it connotes ~the idea of worthlessness, uselessness and complete in-activity. The fraternity challenges the indifference of modern society toward the physically limited or weak person. We do not hesitate to acknowledge weakness because, by experiencing it, we have become more truly ourselves with a deeper capacity to contemplate the existence of God and the mystery of life. But, like other minority groups, we feel the need to fight for the recognition of ourselves as full persons with corresponding rights and duties. We recognize and accept our infirmity for what it is--an evil, but not of our own making nor a punishment from God. Jesus said of the man born blind: "I~ was not that this man sinned, or hi's parents, but that the works of God might be made manifest in him" (Jn 9:3). We.do not pretend to know the answer to the mystery of, evil~ but we do have a. realistic response to it. We intend to accomplish what Christ has given us the power to do; overcome it. The idealism of the fraternity can also become a reality because it is :solidly based on evangelical charity and fraternity. Even on a purely human level we recognize that brotherhood involves understanding, interchange, giving and receiving, interdependence. But for us, this human fraternity has been transformed by Christ who, having made himself our brother, calls us to be brothers of one .another and sons of the Father. This Christian family .is one. in which .the smallest, weakest, poorest are the most beloved. In the movement's Charter, five of the seven fundamental principles deal with ~spirit"; the other two explain the structure. Padre Quitapenas literally "took the pain away" when he emphasized: "Maximum Spirit-- Minimum Organization!" ,. Charter Point l: Evangelical Charity Charity as practiced in the fraternity strives to' imitate the qualities of Christ~s~own love. It is universal'becauseit is not limited to a certain ~class of people; it is for all without boundaries, It' is disinterested: Jesus loved us first and was faithful until death. We go out to our brothers without fear of being rejected or misunderstood, not expecting praise or gratitude. It is respect[M: Christ never imposes, always invites. We try to awakefi the other to his own worth and dignity, calling him forth with patience and perseverance. In this prOcess, we come to recognize his true value, and often receive more than we are able to give: Lastly, it is total. As ~'Christians we strive to give the best of ourselves in total dedication;' even to being Willing to give our lives for the other. Christ lived that kind of fraternity~ This point might bring the response: "That's too mu~h to ask!" But it would not be an ideal if it did not ask so much. Striving for such an. ideal causes us to give more than we thought we could. Perhaps more than others, the sick need this kind of presence rather than ideas and words, however beautiful, to keep l~hem from isolation and despair. Where there is solidarity ~200 / Review Ior Religious, Volume ,3,6, 1977/2 there is h6pe., It is a~ if,Christ' said:~"Organize yourselves as,brothers,, treat each other.as such, and obstacles will disappear,,barriers fall and prejiadices 'overcome." So it is that love and understanding which leadSto deep and harmonious relationships are the very soul of the fraternity. ,, Point I1: Dedicated to, All the Sick Without Distinction . ¯ . Because of its nature, the Christian Eraternity embraces all .who are -sick without ~ discrimination of culture, social, status, religion., age, sex or type of infirmity. The fraternity is open to all because each one-is a person ~who needs community. Children, youth, adults and the aged are all welcome ~ in,~the fraternity,,but it is to the young adult that the fraternityr.looks for the :vitality and dynamism needed to carry on its work. Because of-their critical awareness and disillusionmentwith, present conditions, they are willing to take responsibility and work toward change. As one totally paralyzed youth said at. our assembly: "We want a revolution~a revolution of love!" Although the fraterni.ty is a lay,~apostolic movement, in the Catholic Church, it welcomes those of other~faiths, Christian and non-Christian. We -do not come together to discuss,our_differences, .but rather to unite~.our efforts to,build a better worldqn which each person becomes whole. It*should be noted, however, that in forming a fraternity~.'it,i~ important that its. leaders be deeply convinced of the gospel 'message; otherwise, they ¯ could not transmit it to others, o. The fraternity is .not an association or pious confraternity which a. per-son j6ins by signing up.'Rather, the individual ~is meant to 15articipate; ac-cording to his ability, in the responsibilities and activities of the movement, to feel part of the movement. To participate is to live fraternity. This in no way eliminates certain sick people, for example, bed-ridden patients,¯ be-cause the first responsibility of a member of the fraternity.~is,concern for other sick people. This concern can be expressed in many different ways, an important one being our openness to friendship. It is not uncommon that ,a meeting ~or activity is held by a group gathered, around the bed or wheel-chair of a person who cannot'be moved. : ~oint_ I11:, UniIying Contacts The fraternity promotes a. spirit of unity, both personal and communi- ~tarian, among the sick and with the well who wish ~to participate in the movement by offering their friendship and service to the sick. ,.,~. The concept of Christian friendship underlies° all our contacts. Much could be said about the beauty and value of .friendship and the great gift it can be for one,who feels isolated and alone. Suffice,it to say-that the concept of friendship which we try to live consists in: --concern for the good of the other , Sacrificing oneself for the good of the othe]" ~ committing oneself to action for the other. ~ ' ' A Movement Toward Hope / 201 The beginning of'friendship is person-contact; often this contact is made through visits to the sick in their homes or in the hospital. We feel that these Visits should be characterized by attention, respect, esteem and~itedication. The person being visited is unique, therefore deserves undiv, ided attention and sincere interest. We offer it willingly, showing by our attitude that we are more interested in listening to him than in watching the~clock or talking about ourselves. We respect his personal freedom to share or withhold his confidences and friendship. Discretion teaches that we not press our own religio,us:beliefs on him; without speaking of God, his presence can be felt, Through genuine esteem~ we will come to see the personal worth and true value of the person, and will begin to learn what he has to teach us. In giving the best of ourselves to the other, he will gradually know that we have come to help him carry his burden, to make his sufferings our own. Bi~sides promiSing to visit him again, we invite him to our group encounters when he is able to come. The regular fraternity meeting (once a month on diocesan level and oftener, .if desired, on parish level) is a unique opportunity to promote the sick person and to form leaders. A meeting that does not foment the active participation of the sick is a failure and cannot :be called~a meeting of the fraternity. We are not interested in a faultlessly ordered meeting or in num-bers, but rather that those present come of.their own choice and participate actively, .and that the atmosphere be one of warmth which encourages all to enter into dialogue and decision making. Thus the sick person learns the .value of working in a group in which his own opinion and that of others is respected. The meeting consists of reflection: on a gospel passage, b.usiness and usually some socializing. ' Other encounters vary according to the initiative of the group. Some of the more common ones are: workshops, retreat, days, general meetings | (which include all zones, or two. or more zones planning an activity to-gether), liturgies and the Sacrament. of the Sick, picnics, parties, etc. All encounters have as their objective to bring ~the sick together to experience friendship, personal growth and each one's ability to take responsibility for himself and others. Our-friends, the Collaboraiors, are well people who value the ideals of the fraternity, seek to understand the sick person through friendship and offer their services as an expression~of that friendship. We value our relation-ships ~vith ,the well.We need each other and each has something to offer the other. The collaborator learns (through experience as well as in planned workshops) how to be comforiable with the sick, when to assist and when to encourage independence. He or she learns to be present in such' a way as to fill a need unobtrusively. The collaborator may take an active part in fraternity meetings, etc., but should always be aware that leadership in the fraternity belongs to the sick. The support, encouragement and patience of the well often open the way for the less secure handicapped person to come 202 / Review for Religious, :Volume 36, 1977/2 into his own. Specifically, the well may have some talent, learning or tech-nique which can be shared to help the handicapped advance in a particular area~ Other collaborators offer mobility which facilitates the sick person's participation ~.in meetings, activities, etc. These friends, are appropriately called: "Flying Angels"! The sick, in relating to collaborators, grow in appreciation of the ser-vices they receive, and learn to accept help graciously without negating their need or becoming demanding in their requests. As they become friends of the well they soon realize that these, too, car~y the tieavy burden of suffer-ing~ although not a physical one. Often the well person needs to express his own uncertainties, worries, problems, hopes and fears, and finds in his sick companion, a willing listener and grateful friend. The fact that in the fraternity there exists this happy union of the sick and the well proves that, where hearts are open and loving, limitations and differences disappear. Point IV: Integral Development of the Sick Person One of the main objectives of the fraternity is the integral development of the whole person of the sick and physically limited, In Jesus' healing ministry, he always healed the whole person, never dividing him into parts. Just as he was capable of forgiving sins, so could he command the person to stand up and walk (Lk 5: 17-26). The vision of the whole person includes the moral, psychological, spiri-tual, affective, social and physical aspects. Moral and~ psychological re-cuperation often engenders physical rehabilitation, just as the development of the social and religious dimension uplifts the person morally and physi-cally. One compliments the other and all are necessary to facilitate growth. Many examples could be given to show how the inter-action of these vari- "ous aspects have contributed to healing in the person, and the part that a group such as the fraternity plays, As one doctor said: "The fraternity mobilizes a considerable amount of energy in the form of group therapy. which is a powerful help toward complete healing. It is not that an ampu-tated leg will be returned, but that, in spite of everything, the man can be complete, minus one leg?' ¯ Another important break-through comes for the sick person when he realizes that God loves him and accompanys him in his suffering. This in-sight is often ,given him through the human love of others; It .helps him to face the future with more hope and Christian optimism. Point V: Integration Into Society and Active Collaboration in Its Trans- [ormation Another'important objective of the Fraternity is to help its members become fully integrated into society so that they might contribute actively toward transforming it. A Movement Toward Hope / 203 -You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid. Nor do men light a lamp and put it under a bushel, but on a stand, and it gives light to all the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven (Mt5:14-16). Christ invites his disciples to act without fear in the presence of the world so that others, seeing their good works, will know of the power of God within them. As the sick and handicapped grow toward wholeness, they face the dif-ficult task of integrating themselves into their environment: the family, so-ciety, the Church. The fraternity is a movement that discovers the sick, pro-motes them and then returns them (without ever having isolated them) to their community ready and capable of making their contribution. It teaches them to be critically aware of conditions imposed upon them; to see, to judge and to act with Christian vision. False ideas about illness perpetuated by the family can cause the sick one to become a non-person. Families are inclined to two extremes in the problem of handicapped members: over-protection (paternalism) which causes the individual to lose his personality and become the "eternal child"; or, through ignorance and disinterest (abandonment) he is made to feel that .he is an inconvenient burden altering the life of the family. In either case, the sick person may lose interest in everything, including his own personal growth, becoming apathetic and selfish. Society, for its part, would prefer to deny the existence of the handi-capped'person. It sets up protective institutions~which gradually de-person-alize the individual and make him incapable of participating in the rights and duties of an ordinary citizen. In this, the sick person must judge so-ciety and challenge its prejudices, He can,prove that the true value of the person lies, not in physical beauty and material productivity, but in the gift of spirit and life. The fraternity urges the sick and handicappdd to develop their potential and prepare themselves through study, mastering a trade or developing a compensatory faculty, to live an independent life. In many cases, the handi-capped person may be more efficient in some particular area or job than some. well people, but he usually is considered eliminated even from ap-plying.' It is not a question of the sick trying to compete with the well, but of being recognized as persons and given equal opportunities. Many sick and handicapped people may never be able to join the hus-tle and bustle of our work-a-day world, but by their steadfast patience, clarity of thought; ability to listen and look for solutions, and by sharing their deep peace and joy, they can silently transform into light the darkness of our world. The Church, too, must take a new interest in developing and utilizing the spiritual potential of its handicapped members. It is not enough to as-sign them to a life of prayer, precious as that is in itself. Values, sorely 204 / Review for Religious, ~.olume 36, 1977/2 needed in our world today, can be highlighted by the presence of the sick in the Christian community. Reflection on the Paschal'Myst6ry, hope in suffering, spirit-strength in weakness, the value of life over all things, the lesson of obedience, victory over evil, the attainment of happiness and wis- ,dom, the privilege of carrying one another's burden are but a few things the sick have to say to the Christian community. Point 1/1: Team Leadership ~ The fraternify is vitalized by teams of responsible sick and handicapped people. The value of working in~teams is well known by all who have ex-perienced such group effort. Foe the sick person 'the support of a, team is doubly important. Through it, he learns the value of and need for unity, dialogue, sincerity, friendship, vision, and solidarity in action. He discovers that he is important, but not indispensable; he knows that what he lacks another has;' and he learns, through practice, to develop ,his leadership qualities and help others,to develop theirs. Teams of responsible' sick and handicapped people are formed'at the parochial, diocesan, regional and national levels~ These~ in turn, are re-sponsible to an International Team. The teams in their distinctive environ-ment promote, orientate, coordinate and vitalize,' both in depth and geo-graphic extensi6n,!~ the fraternity. A team iscomposed of at least five members: the responsible person, the assistant, the spiritual advisor, a secretary and a treasurer. In order to give as many of the sick as possible the experien6e of leadership, the teams are renewed every two yearsoby election. Most of the sick cannot dedicate full time to the work of the fraternity, but carry out their apostolate over and above their ordinary.duties: In order to begin a Fraternity, a group should have the approval of the local bishop,~ work together,for at least one year and then seek .affiliation through the National Fraternity at a General Assembly. Such7 a fraternity is being established in the United States by a Marianist brother who. previ-ously worked in Peril.1 ~, The teams.,are responsible for planning meetings and other activities, but, more importantly, for. preserving, the spirit of the f~raternity. There are many pitfalls into which the fraternity could fall. Some would make. ofit an enterprise for solving labor problems, a social service,~agency for material assistance, a recreational center where the sick distract themselves or a .confraternity of prayer. It is none of these even though,some aspects of each are. present. Those who. come to the fraternity looking only for personal ,or material gain usually leave disappointed. Many others catch the spark of the true meaning of "fraternity" and are richly rewarded. The fact that the responsible positions in the fraternity are assumed 1Brother' James L. McC~.ffrey, S:M': Cehtral Catholic High School 1403 N. StY' Mar~'s Street; San .Antonio, TX 78215. A Movement Toward Hope / 205 by the sick themselves stamps the :movement as a liberating one. Who better than the sick can 'understand the sick and plan for them? How better can they face their own reality, promote themselves and prepare for taking their ¯ .place in ~.society: , ~. Point VII: The Role of the Minister The Fraternity receives its vital Christian orientation especially from the religious minister,., who is usually a.priest~ but could also be a brother or sister. This person is known in the fraternity as the Assessor. Although the assessor is a member of the governing team, he contributes more by his discreet presence and unifying word than: by his organizational ability~ He is meant to be a. brother to his co~workers, and a friend a.mong 'friends. Often it is his supportive presence that enc.ourages the lay person to fissume his responsibilities; skillfully, he can. draw,.out the more timid ones to express themselves and help them make' their own decisions. His principle task is to direct the team and all members of the fraternity toward a deeper~ understanding of the Christian spirit; and lead them. to seek solutions t6 their,problems in the light.of, the gospel: 'By his own life witness', his word, and sensitive ~attitude, he gives spiritual vitality to the movement a'nd sets the sick on the road to discovery of their own spiritual depth Since the fraternity welcomes one and all, many enter it with little .spiri- ;tual formation; therefore, it' is primarily the religious minister who should be cohScious of their spiritual development: Through talks, worksh.ops, re-treat days and personal contact, he can begin the process of spiritual forma-tion that has so much meaning in the sick person's life. ~, The assessor is appointed by the bishop and is the fraternity:s direct link with the. Church, He seeks to work :with parish priests,, hospital chap-lains and others interested in ministry to ,the sick .in order-to transmit the spirit of the fraternity and develop a pastoral plan for the sick. He l(eeps the fraternity in touch with other lay apostolic movements for mutual en-richment. He is also in a position to heighten awareness in the hierarchy of the needs, iproblems, aspirations anti'activitieS; of the sick in the difcese. More than any of these, aspects, though, it .is his simple presence, his [attitude of service and his inspiring word that makes the assessor a key fig, ure in the fraternity. " ~ Aclivilies . ,~ ¯, Here' I would like to mention a few of the activities.our fraternity groUp in Arequipa (Perti) has undertaken. Through them,'we have tried to reach out;to others in love, and have become fuller, happier people because of it. 1) AnnualFraternity ,Encounter To mark our anniversary each year; we in-vite all the sick and handicapped of~the city to an all-day celebration on the last Sunday of April. It is a gala affair beginning with the arrival of some 300 people ranging from children~ to old folks, many in ,wheelchairs, on 206 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 crutches or aided by a friend. A well-participated concelebrated Mass opens the program. This year, 'for the first time, two of our members were married at~ this Mass. After the Eucharist and formal words of welcome our dedi-cated collaborators serve a well prepared lunch. The afternoon is filled with music, fun and games. The hidden talent of the handicapped is discovered as the blind sing, the old amputee dances with the aid of his crutch, chil-dren recite poems and tell jokes, young people play musical instruments and lead group singing. A special feature of the festivities this year was a soccer game played by young men and women in wheelchairs. Each was given a straw broom and the. action began. We might have been in the stadium watching professionals, so exciting was the game! 2) Reflection Recently seventy-five members of the fraternity gathered for a reflection, day during which we had a. group dynamic which helped us to count our blessings. Each person received a letter from an imaginary friend --"Joe?' In small groups we discussed the letter, and then in a general ses-sion formulated the answer. Unfortunately, "Joe" had been in an accident which left him partially paralyzed and in a wheelchair. According to Joe he had no friends now except the happy, active handicapped person to whom he was writing. (Joe wondered how his friend could :be so happy, anyway!) As for himself, everyone had deserted him and, although his family was nice enough, he knew they were just putting up with him. He was never going to walk again so he might as well be resigned to doing nothing the rest of his life. Joe did sincerely try to think about God but he couldn't understand why, if God were really his Father, he could punish him this way, especially since he didn't deserve it. The priest was always coming around telling him that suf-fering has meaning, but that went in one ear and out the other. Joe pre-tended to listen because, after all, he "couldn't offend the guy." What .he really wanted was to~ hear from his friend who had gone through the same thing and could sympathize with him. In answering "Joe's" letter, his friend reassured him of his friendship and understanding, but urged Joe to open his eyes and see the brighter side of life. Self~pity was blinding him! How could he expect people to come to him all the time? Why didn't he go visit somebody else and make some friends? There are a lot of people worse off than himself right in his own neighbor-hood. He could go around and see if he could help them in some way; or, at least, he could get to know them and talk things over. Joe would find that if he tried to make somebody else happy, he would be happier himself. Next, Joe ought to think about job possibilities. True enough, he couldn't walk but he still had his hands and his head. There are plenty of things he could do with those, but if he didn't put forth a little effort, he'd. never discover what they were. If he feels .useless, he has only~himself to blame. It is too bad Joe can't see any meaning in suffering; his friend sure can! Why, it~ makes a person feel so much closer to other people who are going A Movement Toward Hope through the same thing (without complaining); after all, everybody has something to suffer. It's a,nice feeling to be a real brother to somebody. Joe should know that God isn't going to try him beyond his strength. He is giving Joe the opportunity to stop and think about life and become a bet-ter person if he wants to. Joe ought to remember that God's own Son had to suffer, and by suffering, save the world. Now he's giving Joe a chance t6 do something for the world, too. Sooner or later, Joe will find out that his accident, instead of being a punishment, is a blessing in disguise. About the priest, Joe should'realize that if Father keeps' coming back to see him, it means he wants to be his friend, and he should appreciate that. If Joe really tried to listen, he would learn something. One thing for sure, if Joe doesn't get hold of himself, he'll soon find out that the greatest suffering in life is selfishness. Poor Joe! 3) Radio Programs For many shut-ins and sick people of the city, two weekly radio programs called Fraternity are a source of education and in-spiration. 'The programs consist of background material about the fraternity, letters and testimonies of the sick, information about rehabilitation or spe-cial courses being offered, a spiritual message, and news of,activities, meet-ings, and so forth that are being planned, The unique part of the programs is that they are planned and executed entirely by the sick and handicapped. One of~ the participants is Reyna, a blind girl, who reads her script in braille. To the unknowing listener, Reyna sounds like anyone else, but to her proud friends she is someone special. 4) A Christmqs Project Christmas is a special time for expressing fraternity. Each parish or zone usually has a party which many of the sick attend. Last year, in planning ours, we realized that the house-bound sick, who need the partY ,.most, would not. be able to come. So we decided to take the party to them. Settling on ten people, ~e planned a one-hour visit with each, giving them the choice of the. day and an afternoon hour during the week before Christmas. We packed a party box and wrapped a gift for each visit. The gifts were chosen according to each one's need or specigl interest. The very poor received a basket of food; to old Don Lucho, whose life revolved around the Sacred Heart, went a statue of the Sacred Heart. The party goers were usually four; two handicapped people, one collaborator and the pastor. To begin our visit, we set up a small crib, sang carols, reflected on the Mystery, shared what Christmas meant to us and prayed for Christmas blessings. Then we chatted and had the party with the growing number of family members who gathered as interest grew. Before leaving, we presented our gift. Don Lucho was in ecstasy; no other gift could have mean so much to him. He died two months later gently embracing his Sacred Heart statue. Observations It may not be practical or even possible to apply all that has been pre-sented here in a given situation, or to belong formally to the Fraternity of 2011 / Review ]or Religious, Volfime 36, 1977/2 the Sick. However, I feel that Christian fraiernity is as varied as creative Christians are numerous. Therefor(, the following suggestions may serv6 hs a spring-board for those who owish~ to direct their ministry to the sick in a "spirit of fraternity:" --Approach the sick as "real7 people who hav'e the same needs, aspirations, hopes, desires,, joys and sorrows as others. Respect and love them for what they are and what they can become. --Raise the consciousness level among the sick by helping them to see, judge and act in order to change their own attitudes and eventually transform their ambience. Bring the sick together so that they might become friends.~ In friendship they will learn to appreciate themselves and one an-other more, and, in solidarity, make their contribution to the commtinity. --Reflect and pray with the sick so that they may grow in knowl-edge of the ways of God, and come to understand their mission. (Isaiah speaks beat~tifully of.,God's love for his suffering servant, the mission to which he is called and the reward that will be his.) Share your ministry with the sick; provide opportunities for them to minister to other sick; encourage them to go beyond them-selves, reaching out to others with the sure kn.owledge that the weaker they are the more powder t~hey have to raise their brothers. qsaiah's prophecy, read by Jesus in the synagogue,,is often used to de-scribe the official minister's, role in the Church. I believe that it also ap-plies to those other "servants" who have been tried and corfie forth as gold (Jb 23: 10). They, too, have been commissioned to bring the good ne,~,s to the most isolated and forgotten, the world of the sick. Together with it, ttiey can now carry their own spirit of hope. "The spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me; He has sent me to announce good news to the poor, To proclaim release for prisoners and recovery of the sight for the blind; To set at liberty those w~.ho are oppressed. To proclaim the year of the Lord's favour." And he said to them: "This text is being fulfilled today even as you listen." (Lk 4: 18-19; 21)' An Obstacle to Community Waiter J. Handren, S.J. l~ather Handren is now retired. He resides at Loyola Center; 54th & Ci_ty Ave.; Phil-adelphia, PA 19131. Deafness is an illness. If is a malfunction of one of the'~iaarts of the body. it is a depri~/ation, an abnormality, something which can distort other parts of' the human makeup in the person's efforts to compensate for his lack of hearing. As with all other things which affect humankind, deafness has both its physical effects and its social'effects, and, consequ6ntly, its psychological, mental and spiritual repercussions. It causes not only lack of hearing and corisequent isolation, but also bouts° of temper, ignorarlce 6f much of what is happening in the world and tlespondency. It is usual, I believe, when speaking of this affliction, to refer to "deaf-ness" as the total loss of hearing; any "partial loss is called "hard of hear-ing." In this article, for thesake of brevity, I stiall use the word "deafness" only, making distinctions whenever it becomes necessary to explain the na-ture of the case in question. ' "I suppose that I, just iis all other human beings, would be oblivious of the condition of the deaf had I' not suddenly become deaf, that is, become ¯ extremely hard Of hearing,~ at-~ge 65, just at the time that I was retired from a life-long job of.teaching. Having attained the status of "emeritus," I had plenty of time to observe"c~refully all the effects of~a seventy-five percent loss of hearing, to think many long and,seriou~ thoughts, and to come:up with some ideas about it. It is the result of these meditations which I am offering for~your consideration. When'a person suddenly goes deaf late in life there is an added frustra-tion put upon him which, perhaps, may not bother so much thosewho have suffered from a hearing-~defect over many years. All life long he~ has been accustomed to hearing. His reactions those swift, spontaneous responses 209 210 / Review 1or Religious, l/olume 3~,~ 19~77/2 ~ to sound which all normal hearers have, but few notice--have been attuned to hearing properly, and responding promptly. Then, of a sudden,~there is badly impaired hearing, and the quick, eager reaction is checked in mid-air, as it were; because suddenly there is nothing to respond to, and one is caught at a loss. One wants to hear; the strong, immediate drive of one's whole being is to hear and answer, but there is now no hearing, or, at least, not enough to make sense. Even with a l~earing aid this is true for those ~,ith badly impaired hearing. For this frustration to keep recurring day after day is wearing on the nerves and can cause other psychic phenomena such as (apparently) unmotivated testiness, snappishness, or else gloom and brooding. Of course, the religious, trained as he is in the spiritual life, has enough sense to fight against these moods, but they are there, and their tantalizing presence is wearing. The deaf person can no longer enjoy music. If he has been a music lover this becomes a great sacrifice. A person with normal hearing has no proper concept of what it is like to listen to a beautiful piece of music, one which has been loved in times past, and to hear nothing but cacophony: some notes coming through piercingly and others not being heard at all. The result is just noise. Your friends ~annot really understand that. Sym-pathetic or not, they have no idea of your plight; so you avoid music. Nor can the newly deaf any longer enjoy the theater. O~ what use is it to sit,in the dark for two or three hours and watq.h people move about the stage?. In order to know what it is all about you have to read the play after~ wards--if,,you can find a copy. The same holds true for, lectur.es.and at-tendance at large meetings. Most lecturers seem .to speak confidentially to the first row, even though they have a mike before them, and as for qu~es-tions from the floor, there is a dead silence in the hearing aid, as though the' .questioners were afraid of the sound of their own voices. But, ~after all, who are the deaf? About 5:3% of those over 65. use hearin.g aids, and only 0.4% of those under 65. This is a very small seg-ment of the population. Is it really worth a great deal of trouble and ex-pense to try to help such a small group? ~- Even~in conversation a hearing aid is not much good beyond six, feet or so: When~,there is a general conversation with many taking, part, the babel of all those ,voices confuses the hearing aid and iams the receptio.n. This is something else people find it hard to believe. Here they are .shouting at you, from a distance of a few feet and yo.u. refuse to. hear and undeLstand! But all the time the~background noises and the echoes of their well-meant shouts are blocking all possibility of communication. And so the deaf stay away from as many social~g.ath~rings as they can. . Now,~.why all this? After all, the deaf hav.e these~ very expensive~,elec7 tronic gadgets intheir ears, why ca~n't~hey hear as,well as any ~o~ther person? When I was buying my hearing aid the ~technician said~to m~: '~Father, remember this is an aid, .not a replacement for your lost hearing., Nothing can take the place of your own ears, but this will be better than not hear- An Obstacle to Community / 21~1 ing at,all." How very~true! . o A,,.hearing aid is a .small microphone and amplifier, ~, highly . refined but of,-limited.range. Every sound it picks up .is amplified, and it amplifies equally all the sounds it receives. But,.the human voice is the softest of,.all souiids and, thus, all the other~harsh, piercing or overwhelming sounds of our contemporary din-culture are far more penetrating than the human vpice,could ever be. Let me give some examples., .~,~ As I sit 'at ;table with .:a friend, he .may be speaking to me just a few feet. from my hearing ,,aid, yet the clashing and crashing (as it sounds to me) of knives, forks hnd,cro~ckery a few. tables away will jam .his voice out.Or, take .the classroom scene.- The walls are clean and bare, as are the blackboards and ,'ceiling; the floors are polished hardwood, the desks covered with smooth,, hard: writing surfaces all perfect substances for echoing. Then we have the teacher's voice bouncing off these surfaces, anti the. coughs, the scraping~.of feet, the shifting of chairs, the laying down of.lpens; and all the oother~signs of,~life,and activity ,usually found in class, .rooms. Not only these sounds but even the echoes are amplified so that the wearer of the hearing , aid ~ is sometimes drowned in a sea of sound. The human v~oice has a hard time penetrating such a din. ~'. Well, what can°be, done about all this? The first thing that occurs to me is for all~ normal hearers to make themselves conscious of the~ situation. Don;t. think that whoever wears a hearing aid automatically obtains normal hearing~ or'~even good artificial hearing. He has .only avoided, the worst° of his problems; namely, how to hear anything at all. There is a big gap be-tween "tuning in" on the human race, and actually hearing what the human race is saying. There is the further problem of trying, to get the human ~race to speak,clearly, distinctly ands fairly slowly~ so as not to run the~.syllables together. For,. if the second ,syllable comes too hard_upon the first it is drowned,by the echo of the. first, and the third by the second, and s6 on ad conlustonem. Then, too, the normal speaker sprinkles "ifs," "buts,"k,"nots" ~and. many others earth-changing words of small size through-out his speech, to the distress of~ the mechanical, ear. 0 .~. If you wish to communicate with the deaf, .keep ,~ your voice as much as possible at the sam.e pitch, and iiatensity. The i~xp~ressive tonal, changes of emotional, conversatiori will be lost on the unemotional, hearing aid; itqs,,a receiver, not an interpreter. I think that religious houses,could do something abrut the,,decor of ,the places where the commianity gathers, such. asi'ecreation rooms, chapel, dining rooms, and the like. Non-echoing surfaces would be the?desirable thing if the deaf are to be accepted into the confidence of community conversation. It does,take special efforts to communicate with the deaf and each individual must settle his own con-science on the amount of' charity he is willing to exercise in regard to his fellow religious who are poor in hearing: One would think that the predicament of deaf human beings, as I have outlined it, would offer no particular problem to a religious community 212 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/2 which is supposed to be founded on charity. However, there is a large problem, a~hidden snag, which contradicts all theories. ,The ordinary, evbryday religious.is not deaf, and, therefore~ is not r+minded twenty-four hours a day of the condition of not being able to.hear. And, so, he forgets, ands the-deaf person is forced to the constant, .annoying0practice of re-minding people' of his difficulty. This becomes very tiresome. You would think that the sight of the hearingaid wouli:l be reminder enough, but ap-parently~ it"is not. The deaf person feels about as you would if you had to begin every conversation by reminding people of your weight, or your age. It is just as annoying'to have to keep announcing, one's deafness. And so, we deaf ones tend to "drop .out." We avoid all but necessary meetings with others; we avoid large gatherings; we avoid the theater, the lecture hall, the concert hall, even the TV room; and we end up by~ becoming quite isolated. , ~, This is not so bad for those who love to read, to think, to write, ,to paint, or otherwise lead their own private lives, but itqs not community:~life, and the deaf seem. rather cut off from community. Sitting around-in silence among one's fellow religious is not community; we c'an go, out and take a bus ride to do that! A.further misfortune is that many of the deaf still retain~the gregarious natures God gave them from the start. This isola-tion is especially ~ hard. on them. They. miss the points;'of all the jokes be-cause the point is usually buried in gales of laughter by the narrator and the audience. They miss the~quick, incisive bon mot, for it is usually, delivered in, swift, low tones. They miss the emotional conclusion of a story; because the speaker usually whispers it to himself. We certain.ly cannot consign all the deaf to. the'.oblivion of their ail-ment, no more than we can the elderly, the lame, the blind, or anyone else 'who has .lost ~some.of his physical faculties but not the use of his reason. We are told that due to the excessive noise of our .times (hard "rock," jack hammers; low-flying jets, band saws, power mowers, power leaf-blowers, sirens, diesel.rigs on the road, and all the dreary rest of it) there is.~a growing incidence of deafness seven among the young. If this be true, we can expect 'ttuite a time of it in a generation or~ so: I delayed writing this article for thr6e ~years, nagged b~ the worry that it- was motivated by self-pity. Yet, I really believe that what:I have said needed to be said, and~meditated, and acted upon. The deaf I have knowfi in the past have been very patient, e.ntirely toO'long-suffering, humble people," perhaps despairing of ever being understood, and~they have not made a sufficient case: for themselves. It is' surprising how little has'been written, about deafness and its social effects. I hesitated, then, to write, and argued with myself, until, one day I was discussing the subject with a friend and mentioned my fears. He replied with a laugh: "Don't worry about that. You will not hear what they .say about you, any aWy. , - ~" ?,ome to think,of it, that is one of our consolations. , Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories With Christ David ?J. Hassel S.,]. l~ather Hassel has been involved f~r the last six years in the T

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

In the present essay, I will examine the traces of coexistence between the Muslim and Christian world in architecture and literature, using the examples of the mezquita, or 'mosque', and the most important novel of Spain, Don Quixote of la Mancha (1605;1615) by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra. This study incorporates an interdisciplinary approach that utilizes historical, literary, and architectural methods to explain the dual function of the margin— its architectural function in the Mosque and its narrative function as used in specific chapters from Cervantes's novel. Furthermore, I will show how the architectural margin of the wall of the mosque was familiar to Cervantes's readers who lived in Spain and this familiarity allows Cervantes to exploit the metaphorical meaning of the literary margin as architectural margin. A metaphor establishes an equivalency between a pair of images; the best-known example of which belongs to Ezra Pound, the founding leader of Imagism (1912-1923). This is a school of poetry that endorsed clarity of expression and simplicity through the use of precise visual imagery. The best known metaphor is Pound's own, in which faces are compared with petals in the poem, "In a Station of the Metro": The apparition of these faces in the crowd: Petals on a wet, black bough. Through his architectural and literary metaphor, Cervantes covertly expresses his personal beliefs about multiculturalism that could not be directly expressed for fear of censorship by the Inquisition. ; Winner of the 2020 Friends of the Kreitzberg Library Award for Outstanding Research in the Senior Arts/Humanities category. ; In the Margins of Literary and Architectural Discourse: A Comparison of Arabic Commentary in Cervantes's Don Quixote and Moorish Architectural Inscription Pablo Picasso: Don Quixote, August 10, 1955. Internet: Public Domain Alexandra Parent SP 415: Seminar on Don Quixote Professor Stallings-Ward 28 February 2020 1 Introduction The history of the Iberian Peninsula is a rich one, filled with influences from the entire European and Asian continents over time. When we think about Spain, there is one defining factor that distinguishes her from the rest of Europe: the presence of racial, ethnic and religious influence from Africa, and, resulting therefrom, a unique moment in world history: the confluence of three major world religions in one geographical place. Christianity, Judaism, and Islam once flourished side by side in mutual tolerance and economic interdependence in the Andalusian region of southern Spain, known as 'Al-Andalus,' in the High Middle Ages. Tolerance of others who are different, as Maria Rosa Menocal points out, is the underpinning of this unique historical coincidence and the essential component for the development of science, philosophy, medicine, urbanization, and hence trade and commercial prosperity.1 The Jews and Christians of Muslim Andalusia flourished economically and culturally under the Umayyad, whose dynasty (661-750) was transplanted from Damascus to Cordoba by Abd al-Rahman (756- 1031) after a civil war between two rival Caliphates. These three religions borrowed language and architecture from one another leaving traces of their coexistence, not surprisingly, within the architecture and literature of Spain. In the present essay, I will examine the traces of coexistence between the Muslim and Christian world in architecture and literature, using the examples of the mezquita, or 'mosque', and the most important novel of Spain, Don Quixote of la Mancha (1605;1615) by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra. This study incorporates an interdisciplinary approach that utilizes historical, literary, and architectural methods to explain the dual function of the margin— its architectural function in the Mosque and its narrative function as used in specific chapters from Cervantes's 1 Menocal, The Ornament of the World. 2 novel. Furthermore, I will show how the architectural margin of the wall of the mosque was familiar to Cervantes's readers who lived in Spain and this familiarity allows Cervantes to exploit the metaphorical meaning of the literary margin as architectural margin. A metaphor establishes an equivalency between a pair of images; the best-known example of which belongs to Ezra Pound, the founding leader of Imagism (1912-1923). This is a school of poetry that endorsed clarity of expression and simplicity through the use of precise visual imagery. The best- known metaphor is Pound's own, in which faces are compared with petals in the poem, "In a Station of the Metro": The apparition of these faces in the crowd: Petals on a wet, black bough.2 Through his architectural and literary metaphor, Cervantes covertly expresses his personal beliefs about multiculturalism that could not be directly expressed for fear of censorship by the Inquisition. My essay is divided in three sections. In the first section, I will present a historical overview of Muslim presence in the Iberian Peninsula. In the second section, I present a survey of Muslim Architecture in Andalusia based on the results of a photographic study of architecture I did while visiting Spain during study abroad. I survey the presence of Muslim architecture found throughout Andalusia, placing particular emphasis on the function of the margin in the design of the walls of the mosque reserved for the calligraphy that features citations of scripture from the Holy Koran. The margin, although small in size compared to the rest of the entire structure of the mosque, is as I will show, actually the most important part of the mosque. In the third section of my essay, I analyze the literary margin treated in the episode of the lost manuscript in Volume I: Chapters Eight and Nine of Cervantes's Don Quixote. I will look at 2 Judith Stallings-Ward, Gerardo Diego´s Creation Myth of Music: Fábula de Equis y Zeda. London: Routledge, 2020, 175. 3 the coexistence of the Christian and Arab writers in Cervantes's Don Quixote. The collaboration between Cervantes and Cide Hamete Benengeli allows Cervantes to establish a metaphor between the architectural margin of the mosque and the literary margin of the manuscript as the place for covertly expressing his esteem for multiculturalism and his condemnation of the expulsion of the Moors by national decree; a ploy he uses to escape censorship by the Inquisition. The play with spatial perspective (margin vs center) and the severance of the manuscript (with the lost section recovered in the market of Toledo) establishes the architectural and narrative metaphor that recalls the physical and cultural coexistence between Muslims and Christians valued by Cervantes. In addition, I examine how Cervantes extends this metaphor to also evoke the rupture of that coexistence through expulsion of the Moors, which Cervantes believed broke the backbone of the country. Part I: Historical Overview of Muslim Presence in the Iberian Peninsula The invasion of the Iberian Peninsula began with one young man named Abd Al- Rahman, the son of the Arab family ruling Damascus in the east—the Umayyads. However, during a civil war, his family was massacred, and his escape left him the sole survivor. He fled through North Africa into Cordoba where he began to establish himself as the Caliph, or ruler.3 After the Visigoth monarchy fell, Muslim control dominated the Iberian Peninsula. From 711 through 1492, Islamic society had a long and profound presence on shaping Spanish culture until the Christian kings unified the country. By 716, almost all of Iberia, with the exception of the far northwest and mountainous regions, was under Muslim control and the province was name 'Al- Andalus'. By naming the country in this manner, it directly opposes the 'Hispania' title that the 3 BBC Worldwide Learning, The Moorish South: Art in Muslim and Christian Spain from 711-1492. 4 Romans gave the peninsula, foreshadowing the enmity between the religions of Islam and Christianity.4 Abd Al-Rahman sought to recreate his cultural roots here in Iberia. The peninsula was dominated by the Umayyad dynasty, who had no affiliation to the eastern Muslim dynasties at the time, and were met with little to no resistance from the small groups of Christians still living in the peninsula. As demonstrated in Figure 1, the conquering forces came through Northern Africa and thus were also comprised of Berber forces from that region. By 741, there were approximately 12,000 Berber forces, 18,000 Arabs, and 7,000 Syrians entering through the Southern tip of the peninsula. This totaled anywhere from 4,000,000 to 8,000,000 living in the Iberian Peninsula at the time.5 6 Islam and Christianity under Islamic Rule By the mid eighth century, the population of Iberia had grown exponentially and became more diverse both racially and religiously. Although Muslim forces had conquered what remained of the Visigoth territories and established themselves as the dominant, ruling power, a 4 O'Callaghan, A History of Medieval Spain, 91. 5 Phillips and Phillips, A Concise History of Spain. 6 Alchetron.com. "Umayyad Conquest of Hispania - Alchetron, the Free Social Encyclopedia," August 18, 2017. https://alchetron.com/Umayyad-conquest-of-Hispania. Figure 1: Depiction of the route of Abd-Al Rahman and the subsequent conquests of the Muslim Empire. From Internet: public domain.6 5 majority of the population living in Iberia was still Christian. This undoubtedly posed issues for the Moorish rulers who practiced Islam. As a result, conversion became a necessity for Christians. It is important to distinguish between the upper and lower class when discussing the notion of conversion. Many Visigoth royalty, nobles, and influential families saw it in their best interest to convert and to do what they could to join the new rulers in an effort to pursue political advantages.7 Yet, the majority of Iberia was home to lower class Hispano-Roman Christians who converted out of survival. Despite this, many of the people in this situation retained their Christian faith while adopting Muslim customs like learning Arabic so as to appease the rulers. The name given to these people are mozárabes, or 'Mozarabs', meaning 'Muslim-like'.8 A Christian writer noted the following about Christians living under Islamic rule in 854: Our Christian young men, with their elegant airs and fluent speech, are showy in their dress and carriage, and are famed for the learning of the gentiles; intoxicated with Arab eloquence they greedily handle, eagerly devour, and zealously discuss the books of the Chaldeans (i.e. Muhammadans), and make them known by praising them with every flourish of rhetoric, knowing nothing of the beauty of the Church's literature, and looking down with contempt on the streams of the Church that flow forth from Paradise ; alas ! The Christians are so ignorant of their own law, the Latins pay so little attention to their own language, that in the whole Christian flock there is hardly one man in a thousand who can write a letter to inquire after a friend's health intelligibly, while you may find a countless rabble of kinds of them who can learnedly roll out the grandiloquent periods of the Chaldean tongue. They can even make poems, every line ending with the same letter, which displays high flights of beauty and more skill in handling metre than the gentiles themselves possess.9 It is evident from this passage that the Christians admired the Arabs for the type of civilization they created. The Mozarabs recognized that the Arabs had something to offer them in terms of literature, character, and even language. This demonstrates that on some level, there was an 7 Phillips and Phillips, A Concise History of Spain. 8 Phillips and Phillips. 9 Alvar, Indiculus luminosus; quoted from Arnold, The Preaching of Islam; A History of the Propagation of the Muslim Faith, 137-138. 6 acceptance of Muslim culture and practices which set the foundation for the incorporation of Islamic architectural styles and writing styles to be continued after the Christians' reconquering of Iberia. Christian Kingdoms and "La Reconquista" When the Muslim forces conquered Iberia, they were not able to infiltrate the regions in the north. These regions were not seen as an apparent threat because they were isolated, poor, and not heavily populated, so the Moors did not make a vigilant effort to convert or control these Christians.10 However, the Christian states organized themselves into kingdoms and solidified their control in northern Spain by the mid-twelfth century before moving into Southern Spain during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. The progression of the Christian kingdoms' conquests can be seen in Figure 2. 11 At the height of the reconquest, there were seven individual Christian kingdoms within the peninsula: Asturias, Galicia, Aragon, Navarre, Leon, Castile, and Valencia. Each of these kingdoms had their own struggles trying to gain territory, power, and recognition. The Kingdom 10 Phillips and Phillips, A Concise History of Spain, 55. 11 "Reconquista+General.Jpg (1600×914)." Accessed February 19, 2020. http://4.bp.blogspot.com/- ofiGywz891k/TzynBPnsc7I/AAAAAAAAAok/ECNzH3rSp3E/s1600/Reconquista+General.jpg. Figure 2: Timeline of the Christian King's Reconquest of the Iberian Peninsula. Internet: public domain.11 7 of Navarre was largely under the control of the French to the north and did not have much to do with the conquering of other Spanish Christian kingdoms, let alone taking a stance on combating the Arab south. However, not only were the Christian kings working to overthrow the Islamic caliphate and reconquer Iberia from the Muslims, they were all vying for control amongst themselves. In the tenth century, Alfonso III expanded into the regions of Galicia and Leon slowly gaining more territory and strengthening his Christian kingdom to combat the Moors. The kingdoms of Castile and Leon unified in 1085 and then under the kingship of Alfonso VI, they conquered Toledo.12 Toledo is situated where the Moorish Al-Andalus and the Christian kingdoms of Castile and Leon border each other, so the conquering of Toledo was a push in the right direction for the Christian kings' ultimate goal of expelling the Moors from Spain. In the northeast, Alfonso I of Aragon began consolidating his power and conquered Zaragoza by 1134, and joined with Barcelona in 1137 to form the Kingdom of Aragon. By this point, the Muslim empire was facing many issues in trying to run their territories and were slowly losing their sphere of power in the south. King Fernando III of Castile was able to penetrate Al-Andalus and conquer the Andalusian cities of Cordoba and Seville in the mid-thirteenth century. So, when the two kingdoms of Aragon and Castile prevailed over their Christian counterparts, they were left with only the Emirate of Granada as their last steppingstone to banish Muslim rule from the peninsula. King Fernando II of Aragon and Queen Isabella of Castile married in 1469 and this consolidated the royal authority of Spain.13 In January of 1492, the city of Granada fell to the Spanish forces and this ended the 780 years of Muslim control in the Iberian Peninsula. This was the final act of La Reconquista and the beginning of the age of Los Reyes Católicos or 'The Catholic Kings.' King Ferdinand and Queen 12 Phillips and Phillips, 306. 13 Phillips and Phillips, 116. 8 Isabela ruled into the first few years of the sixteenth century, which is marked as the beginning of the Spanish Inquisition—a judicial institution that was used to combat heresy in Spain. Islam and Christianity under Christian Rule Islam first began to submit to Christian rule during the period when the Christian kingdoms were all building up their states and conquering each other in the eleventh century. When Toledo was captured in 1085, allowing the Muslims to stay was crucial to the economic stability and the intellectual advancement of Christian society.14 With the expulsion of the Moors came the expulsion of their religion and began the institution of Christianity, more specifically Catholicism. The immediate issue that the church saw after the reconquest of Spanish cities was the need to introduce their ecclesiastical structure, so they began to assign bishops to these major cities in addition to creating two new ecclesiastical provinces.15 This rapid organization and dispersion of the Catholic religion in previously Islamic territories was not good news for those Muslims still living in Spain after the reconquest. The Christians could not simply expel the Muslims because in some places they made up the majority of the population and were an integral part of the economy for the country.16 Muslims who continued to live under Christian ruler adopted the name mudéjares or 'mudejars' in English. This name is derived from the Arabic word mudajan meaning 'permitted to remain' with a colloquial implication of 'tamed or domesticated.'17 Ironically, the same way the minorities were treated under Islamic rule, to include Christians, was now how the Muslims were treated under Christian rule. The Mudejars would practice their religion, law, and customs in addition to being permitted to continue their 14 Watt, A History of Islamic Spain, 150. 15 O'Callaghan, A History of Medieval Spain, 488. 16 Watt, A History of Islamic Spain, 151. 17 Watt, 151. 9 craft so long as they paid a tax. It was not uncommon for these minority groups to distinguish themselves by dressing differently and even inhabiting different quarters of town. During the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, a period known as the Mudejar age, it is evident that there is a culture common to both Christians and Muslims, and that coexistence, to the point of assimilation, was possible. However, it is important to note that the Christians, being the dominant power, were selective in what they chose to assimilate. The most evident piece demonstrating assimilation is the artistic productions, both architecturally and literarily. It was obvious that incorporating the Muslims into society was necessary and beneficial, but towards the end of the fifteenth century, economic disparages were becoming obvious and the Mudejars were the wealthier of the two groups. This jealousy and animosity led to a growing prejudice of Mudejars and once Ferdinand and Isabella unified the peninsula, they turned this prejudice into policy. The previous flirtation of religious tolerance was coming to an end, but due to the policy written for the surrender of Granada, many people of Islamic faith were briefly safe in 1492, so these religiously intolerant policies attacked other groups, namely the Jewish factions of the country. This period of brutal intolerance is known as the Inquisition, and it drastically influenced Spanish society for the years to follow, to include Miguel de Cervantes's Don Quixote of La Mancha. Part II: Survey of Muslim Architecture in Andalusia Moorish architecture is something that when one sees it, they know it. It is a mixture of oriental and occidental to create a recognizable and unique form of architecture. There are certain staple architectural features that help make this style so well-known and are also the features that other cultures adopt simply because of their beauty. Some of these features include 10 stone parapets with Islamic crenellations, horseshoe windows and doors, towers sometimes evoking a minaret, domes, arches, slender pillars, and many of these features were typically constructed with alternating colors of yellow and red brick and stone.18 The following figures demonstrate these architectural features. 18 Kalmar, "Moorish Style: Orientalism, the Jews, and Synagogue Architecture," 73. Figure 4 (above): The series of arches and horshoe shaped doors. Taken by Alexandra Parent in the Royal Alcazar in Seville, Spain. January 31, 2018. Figure 5 (below): The classic Islamic crennelations and attention to detail that characterizes all of Islamic architecture. This is also exemplatory of the domes that were utilized in Moorish architecture. Taken by Alexandra Parent at the Royal Alcazar in Seville, Spain. January 31, 2018. Figure 3: The slender pillars and open courtyards. Taken by Alexandra Parent at the Alhambra in Granada, Spain. February 23, 2018. Figure 6: The Torre del Oro or Tower of Gold located in Seville, Spain. Exemplifies the use of towers and minarets in Islamic architecture. Taken by Alexandra Parent in Seville, Spain. April 12, 2018. 11 19 These features are apparent throughout all the everyday buildings within the cities of Al- Andalus, but they also came together to make great, exceptional buildings. One in particular is the Great Mosque in Cordoba. This was built when the religion of Islam was only a century old, so it is renowned as one of the first mosques ever built. This mosque is truly grandeur in architectural style in addition to sheer size. In Islamic faith, it is forbidden to depict Allah, or any religious figure, so the traditional methods of using a painting to inspire religious awe was not possible, thus allowing for architecture to take its place. As seen in Figure 7, the rows of archways are seemingly never ending and absolutely uniform. 20 The architectural margin of the mosque (Fig 8 and Fig 10.D), which Cervantes metaphorizes with the annotation of Dulcinea written on the margin in Don Quixote, refers to the most important part of the mosque: the inscriptions. In the Islamic religion, as aforementioned, worshipping any idols or to depict Allah, Muhammad, or any other important religious figures 20 "The Mosque-Cathedral of Cordoba (Spain)." Accessed February 19, 2020. https://www.turismodecordoba.org/the-mosque-cathedral-of-cordoba-spain. Figure 7: The Great Mosque located in Cordoba, Spain. Known for the uniformity and neverending archways and pillars. From Internet: public domain.20 12 through paintings are prohibited. So, the role of the inscriptions becomes the most important and revered part of the mosque much like the depiction of Jesus on the cross is worshipped by Christians. This is because the inscriptions are the holy words of the Koran. The phrase most 21commonly inscribed in these architectural margins are 'only Allah is victorious.' The metaphor Cervantes makes between the architectural and literary margin is developed to a second degree with the handwriting in the margin of the manuscript being Arabic calligraphy. This can be compared to the inscriptions in the architectural margin of the mosques, which are also written in Arabic calligraphy. This type of writing is very distinct from Western modes of writing because the purpose of Arabic calligraphy is "no como un medio utilitario de 21 Fernando Aznar, La Alhambra y el Generalife de Granada. Monumentos, 12. Figure 10: Architecture of the Mosque21 (from left to right and top to bottom): A) ataurique B) interlacing decoration C) calligraphy in the margin of the wall with scripture "Only Allah is Victorious". Also shown in Fig 11. D) horseshoe arc E) muqarnas F) half horseshoe arcs G) arc with muqarnas H) column with crowned capital Figure 8 (above): The horsehoe shaped windows and use of alternating colors and very detailed crennelations. The Arabic calligraphy can be seen above the windows. Taken by Alexandra Parent at the Alhambra in Granada, Spain. February 23, 2018. Figure 9 (above): Fig 8 on a closer scale to better see the calligraphy 13 comunicación entre los hombres sino como un medio sagrado de comunicación entre Dios y los hombres," meaning, it is not like a utilitarian means of communication between humans, but rather a sacred means of communication between God and men.22 This type of calligraphy that Arabs place in the margins of their mosques obviously have religious value and is called caligrafía cúfica or 'Kufic calligraphy' as is shown in Figure 11. 23 The text written in Arabic calligraphy in the margin of the wall of the mosque is epigrafía. It is present in all mosques and throughout the royal palace known as La Alhambra in Granada. As Fernando Aznar explains, "El texto tiene gran importancia en la decoración. Frases que ensalzan a Alá, o que hace referencia a las bellezas del lugar donde se encuentra, ditando a veces a los constructores de cada zona, se reparten por todos los muros de la residencia real."24This quote says that text has great importance in the decoration of the buildings, and that the phrases that praise Allah, or that refers to the beauties of the place where Allah is located, are all throughout the royal palace. It amplifies the important role that language has in religious symbols. 22 "La Caligrafía Árabe." 23 "Arabic Inscription." Alamy. Accessed February 24, 2020. https://www.alamy.com/stock-photo-arabic-inscription- carved-in-a-palace-wall-of-the-alhambra-in-granada-17181753.html. 24 Fernando Aznar, La Alhambra y el Generalife de Granada. Monumentos, 12. Figure 11: An example of Kufic calligraphy. The style of the Arabic writing in this image is classically used in Islamic mosques to state the word of Allah from the Holy Koran. This is the architectural margin. From Internet: public domain.23 14 Moorish Architectural Influence Under Christian Rule As the Christians slowly began organizing themselves into kingdoms and conquering Moorish cities in Al-Andalus, two incredibly different cultures met each other. As previously stated, an assimilation of sorts was taking place by the Christians who were adopting Islamic practices and other elements of their culture. Architecture was one of these elements that Christian rulers not only preserved, but in some cases built from bottom up utilizing these inherently Moorish styles. Using the example of the Mosque of Cordoba, it is important to note that in the middle of this Islamic prayer hall, there is something unknown to Islam; a Catholic Cathedral (Fig. 12, 13, and 14). This addition was made in the sixteenth century after the Moors were abolished from Iberia. The rulers who erected this cathedral demolished the central columns in order to make room for the Christian edifices, however, Charles V recognized the gravity of this action and how it drastically changed the ambiance and historical significance of this architectural feat. This cultural vandalism by the Christians is symbolic of the enforcement and imposition of their religion onto a different group of people. This theme is also apparent in the literary works of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries to include Don Quixote of La Mancha by Miguel de Cervantes. Figure 12: Located in the middle of the Great Mosque of Cordoba. Christian, gothic architecture meeting with Islamic architectural styles. Taken by Alexandra Parent. January 31, 2018. 15 An example of Mudejar work is the Cathedral of Seville, built after the demolition of a mosque, in order to increase the power of the Christian rulers. The architectural style of the building is very European and gothic with high vaulted ceilings and stained glass.25 As a statement piece for Christianity in former Islamic Spain, it is not expected for one to find traces of Moorish architectural influence, but there is. The Cathedral was built by Christian architects, so there was no lack of qualified Christian craftsmen, however there are qualities inherently Moorish that make its way into this grand architectural achievement. As depicted in Figure 15, the high altar in the Cathedral is adorned in so much detail that it mimics the Moorish tendency to not leave any blank space. The incessant ornamental decoration style that was a part of Islamic Spain bled into and permeated traditional Christian and European styles of architecture making its way into the very soul of Christian craftsmanship. Although the Christian Spanish rulers 25 BBC Worldwide Learning, The Moorish South: Art in Muslim and Christian Spain from 711-1492. Figure 13 (right): Christian altar located in the middle of the Great Mosque of Cordoba in Spain. Taken by Alexandra Parent. January 31, 2018. Figure 14 (left): Example of Christianity inserting itself into Muslim architecture. Taken by Alexandra Parent. January 31, 2018. 16 erected this cathedral as a statement to assert their religious dominance, the Moorish aesthetic had already made its way into the minds of the architects of that era. In addition to this, the minaret attached to the Cathedral of Seville, La Giralda (Figure 16), is evidence of this as well. The construction of this minaret concluded in 1568 and is the twin tower to the city of Marrakech. Having begun construction in 1184, La Giralda is host to the visible mixing of Moorish and Christian culture. Through the stonework, inscriptions, and different styles used, La Giralda is evidence of this assimilation of cultural and architectural practices. 26 Perhaps the most notable architectural feat in regard to Moorish influence on Christianity is seen in the Real Alcázar, or Royal Alcazar. At first glance, it is a very distinct Moorish-looking building in terms of architecture; it contains the classic Moorish archways, courtyards, crenellations and pillars (Fig 17 and 18), so it would be reasonable to conclude that it was 26 "Cathedral of Seville. Aerial View." Accessed February 24, 2020. https://seebybike.com/blog/must-see-cathedral-and- alcazar-of-seville/cathedral-of-seville-aerial-view/. Figure 15 (right): The altar located inside the Cathedral of Seville. Known for it's incredulous detail and extravagant style that is suspected to be a result of lingering Moorish influences. Taken by Alexandra Parent. January 31, 2018. Figure 16 (left): An aerial view of the Cathedral of Seville. It includes many influences of Morrish architecture to include the large tower known as La Giralda, the minarets all over the building, and the many domes that make up the cathedral. From Internet: public domain.26 17 constructed under Islamic rule. However, Christian king Peter of Castile, also known as Peter the Cruel, commissioned the Alcazar as his royal palace in the fourteenth century. He made the Alcazar identical to the architectural stylings of the Spanish Middle Ages. So, the question arises as to why a Christian ruler would deliberately choose Islamic decoration? The answer is that it comes down to power. By appropriating the Islamic art and traditional expressions, the Christian ruler projects a sort of authority over the minority subjects.27 The Moorish expressions of wealth and power are understood differently than traditional Europeans, so by creating something that the Muslim population would recognize as powerful, Peter the Cruel wielded a sort of power over the Mudejars. 27 Fernández, "Second Flowering: Art of the Mudejars." Figure 17 (left): The courtyard of the Royal Alcazar. Despite being built by a Christian king, it has many, if not completely full of, influences from Islamic architecture. Note, the pillars, the archways, the courtyard, the crennelations. Taken by Alexandra Parent. January 31, 2018. Figure 18 (right): The Royal Alcazar in Seville, Spain. This wall has both Christian and Islamic influences. Note the differences between the lower floor and the second floor of the archways. The bottom is much more functional and plainer, like traditional Christian architecture whereas the top portions are much more detailed and colorful such as depicted by Islamic architecture. Taken by Alexandra Parent. January 31, 2018. 18 Part III: The Literary Margin Treated in the Episode of the Lost Manuscript in Volume I: Chapters Eight and Nine of Cervantes's Don Quixote When reading Don Quixote, the reader is frequently taken off the main narrative path involving the adventures of the main characters, the knight and his squire Sancho Panza, and led down secondary narratives involving encounters with characters who interrupt the main narration with tales of their own stories of love, captivity, and triumph. The complexity of the narrative shows the novel to be an amalgam of many different short novels, much like the way of the river Amazon, which is fed by many smaller rivers, at the heart of which is Cervantes's parody of books of chivalry. Nevertheless, the one unchanging constant is the way the novel opens a window onto the life and times of the man who wrote it. Cervantes's novel reflects his lived experience rooted in multicultural society whose heterogeneity was the source of Spain's economic and agricultural well-being. Cervantes saw the well-being of his country destroyed by the Hapsburg dynasty's religious intolerance and persecution of minorities who did not convert from their Jewish or Muslim faith. Cervantes himself was of Jewish ancestry. His father was a surgeon, a vocation known to be practiced by Jews. Cryptic references to his Jewish ancestry appear in the portada, or cover page of this novel. For example, the phrase from the book of Job—after darkness light is hoped for—and references to their inability to worship on the Sabbath appear in the first chapter of the novel; a day when the Jewish population must be in duelos and quebrantos, or 'pain and suffering'. While a student, Cervantes was arrested and ordered to have his right hand cut off for allegedly shooting a man who had insulted his sisters. Cervantes escaped punishment by fleeing to Italy from where he joined the Holy League (an alliance among the Vatican, France, and Spain) in the Battle of Lepanto, a major battle against the Turks in the waters of the 19 Mediterranean, during which Cervantes lost the use of his left hand. After his distinguished military service in this major victory against the Turks, Cervantes was taken captive and held prisoner for five years in Algeria. His profound understanding of the Islamic world of the Maghreb, as the northern region of Africa is known, is reflected throughout Don Quixote. Upon return to Spain, he obtained work as a tax collector tasked with gathering funds throughout Andalusia for the construction of the Spanish Armada. His detailed knowledge of the geography and customs of Southern Spain is reflected throughout the novel as well. Cervantes's experiences from his military expedition against the Turks, his years in captivity in northern Africa, his travels through Andalusia, and his Jewish ancestry can be added as another factor that forged the broad multicultural perspectivism formed in his novel. As a student, Cervantes was taught by Lope de Hoyos, a known follower of the Dutch humanist philosopher Erasmus of Rotterdam. Erasmus criticized the empty ritual of the Catholic Church as well as its intolerance for Christians, especially followers of Martin Luther, who sought an unmediated religious relationship with God; one that did not require mediation by a Catholic priest. The teachings of Erasmus, an intellect who denounced the hypocrisy of the Catholic Church and its persecution of minorities and different versions of Christianity, are embraced by Cervantes and find expression in a covert manner in Don Quixote (II: 22-23).28 The episode of the lost manuscript (Volume I:8-9) reflects the perspective of multiculturalism and diversity Cervantes gained from the life experiences outlined above. Chapter eight is first and foremost about Don Quixotes's iconic battle with the windmills, the most well-known episode of the novel. Don Quixote's illusion leads him to believe that the windmills were originally giants that have been transformed into windmills by his enemy, the 28 Judith Stallings-Ward, "Tiny (Erasmian) Dagger or Large Poniard? Metonymy vs. Metaphor in the Cave of Montesinos Episode in Don Quixote." 20 wizard Freston, to cheat Don Quixote from a victory in battle against them. The deception of the knight conveys Cervantes's use of humorous parody to denounce the books of chivalry whose fantasy version of reality has brainwashed Don Quixote. A subsequent adventure in this chapter reveals Don Quixote has another lapse of reason. He believes that a Basque woman travelling to Seville, preceded by two Benedictine friars who are not in her party, and surrounded by her own men on horseback, is a princess being kidnapped. Upon observing once again his master's mind in the grip of delusion, Don Quixote's squire Sancho Panza replies, "This will be worse than the windmills."29 This foreshadows the battle that Don Quixote will ultimately have with the Basque. At the end of Chapter eight, we are left with both men having their swords unsheathed and raised at each other, but then the narration of the story abruptly stops. The narrator, a literary form of Cervantes inserted into the story by the real historical Cervantes, begins to speak directly to the reader as if in an informal conversation with them to convey that the end of the scene and the rest of the history are missing.30 This narrative style continues into Part II, chapter nine when the narrator begins a search for the missing manuscript. In this chapter we are brought to Toledo and the narrator brings the reader through the Alcaná market. The narrator Cervantes tells the story of his journey to find the manuscript in the market and how he comes across a young boy trying to sell him some notebooks, old torn papers, and other small commodities. Cervantes is inclined to pick up a certain book that the boy has and realizes the script on the front is in Arabic. Since he could not read Arabic, he finds a Morisco aljamiado, so called for their ability to speak both Arabic and Spanish, who can help translate the manuscript. It was not difficult to find this person and soon Cervantes flipped to the middle of the book and asked the Morisco to translate. Cervantes points out the availability of translators of 29 Cervantes, Don Quixote, 62. 30 Cervantes, 65. 21 all classic languages in the market, thus underscoring the advantage of multicultural spaces such as the markets of Spain. As the translator--the Morisco aljamiado--began to read the page, he laughed at something written in the margin: it stated, "'This Dulcinea of Toboso, referred to so often in this history, they say had the best hand for salting pork of any woman in La Mancha.'"31 The narrator immediately knew that this was the missing manuscript he was looking for, so he had the Morisco read even more. It is then that the reader learns the novel was originally written in Arabic by the Arab historian Cide Hamete Benengeli. Narrator Cervantes commissions the Morisco to translate the entire novel, paying him in "two arrobas of raisins, and two fanegas of wheat," so that the story of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza can be continued.32 This process of translation of the original manuscript from Arabic to Spanish is now the source of the narrator Cervantes's history of Don Quixote, and it is a collaboration between the literary Christian "Cervantes" and the original Arabic author Cide Hamete Benengeli, delivered through the translator. The reader is now being told the story through someone else's eyes and mind. The novel descends into a rabbit hole of authorship in which, ironically, the new lens is a Morisco translator. This metaphor demonstrates that true Spanish history is written as a compilation between Christianity and Islam, not one or the other, thus demonstrating historical Cervantes's disdain and disapproval of the expulsion of the Moors. Rather, Cervantes displays the importance and necessity of diversity and multiculturalism. The true author, historical Cervantes, also establishes a metaphor between the literary margin, in which the literary Cervantes discovered the novel was indeed Don Quixote, and the architectural margins of the mosque. Cervantes does this in a very clever and implicit manner, 31 Cervantes, 67. 32 Cervantes, 68. 22 otherwise he would be severely censored. Through this implied metaphor of architectural and literary margins, Cervantes is able to write a novel that has commentary to covertly express his condemnation of the Moors and announce his glorification of multiculturalism. The focus of attention placed on the margin of the manuscript wherein Arabic commentary is written calls to mind the architectural margin of the mezquita, or 'mosque', in which the Arabic calligraphy is written. The comparison between the textual margin of Cervantes's manuscript and architectural margin of the walls of the mosque would be easy for the readers of Cervantes's day to recognize given the prevalence of Muslim architecture throughout Spain, as my survey in the first part of this essay shows. Furthermore, the handwriting in Arabic by the Arab historian easily calls to mind the calligraphy used for citations from the Koran. The Arabic commentary—associated with the authoritative word of the Koran placed in the margin of the walls of the mosque—second guesses the religious purity of Dulcinea, the object of courtly worship by the Christian knight. When the translator points out the Arab historian's commentary in the margin of the manuscript, that 'the Lady Dulcinea has the best hand at salting pork,' he taints her purity by placing her in contact with a food source that is considered polluted for Muslims. The comment casts Dulcinea in tainted light. The Arab historian's questioning of religious purity occurs in tandem with the questioning of the authority or authorship of the history of Don Quixote. The literary Cervantes is a Christian writer, but he is not the true author of the original manuscript; the Arab historian Cide Hamete claims true authorship; and Dulcinea is not the pillar of religious purity she is perceived to be. The play with the double meaning of the margin (textual vs architectural) occurs with the play of spatial perspective between margin vs center. The reader sees through Cervantes's use of the metaphor as a multicultural perspective that questions the absolute status of Christian 23 authority and Christian purity. The play with meaning and perspective in Cervantes's treatment of the margin in chapters eight and nine may be taken to one final and third level of development. The margin, shown to be central in connection with the ruptured or severed manuscript, is a covert expression for Cervantes's esteem for the contributions to Spanish society by the Muslim population of his country and his condemnation for their expulsion by governmental degree from Spain. In the eyes of Cervantes, this broke of the backbone of Spain's culture and economy since the Arab population made up an incredibly large portion of the Iberian Peninsula. Cervantes accomplishes this by, not only changing chapters, but beginning a whole new section of the novel. Part I concludes with chapter eight and the pending battle between Don Quixote and the Basque, then Part II begins with the narrator Cervantes informing the reader of his journey to find the rest of the novel. Being wary of the censorship that plagued others during the Inquisition, Cervantes chose this metaphorical approach to convey his true sentiments about the situation of Spain at this moment in history. This rupture in Don Quixote's history is reflective of the moment in Spain's history where law has been decreed to banish something so inherent to the nation itself: the Moorish people. By placing these episodes side by side, Cervantes invites the reader to compare the delusion of the Hapsburg imperial vision and its expulsion of the Moors with the episode of the windmills. The blindness of Spain's government seems even more laughable than Don Quixote's own misguided attack on the windmills. Cervantes's play with the margin allows him to express his views on multiculturalism in an indirect manner that allowed him to escape censorship by the Inquisition. The Inquisition was not savvy enough to realize that this profound division between Part I and II is symbolic of the division of tolerant Spain into an intolerant Spain. After Cervantes 24 died, the Inquisition did censor and expurgate a passage that was considered too directly stated. In chapter thirteen, Don Quixote is once again declaring his servitude and attesting to the beauty of his beloved Dulcinea of Toboso. In his description to Vivaldo, he uses a Petrarchan metaphor, a very classical and renaissance style of poetry, to describe Dulcinea. Don Quixote states (Volume I:13): "Her tresses are gold, her forehead Elysian fields, her eyebrows the arches of heaven, her eyes suns, her cheeks roses, her lips coral, her teeth pearls, her necklace alabaster, her bosom marble, her hands ivory, her skin white as snow, and the parts that modesty hides from human eyes are such, or so I believed and understand, that the most discerning consideration can only praise them but not compare them."33 While eloquently put, Cervantes is nonetheless making references to the private areas of Dulcinea's body and thus was censored by the Catholic Church in 1624 after his death; they dared not censor him before since his novel made him so beloved by the people. Cervantes was too clever to have to follow the rules. His questioning of authority was apparent from the very opening words of the novel when he writes, "[s]omewhere in La Mancha, in a place whose name I do not care to remember…"34 Cervantes conveys how exact places and names are all arbitrary and are not relevant to the novel. This echoes Cervantes own questioning of authority and Spain's religious Inquisition going on that persecuted the Moors and other minorities alike. 33 Cervantes, Don Quixote, 91. 34 Cervantes, 19. 25 Conclusion The religious tolerance and interdependence between minorities of Al-Andalus, which are reflected through the architecture of Andalusia and also underscored in Cervantes's Don Quixote through the metaphorical treatment of the literary margin in the episode of the lost manuscript, seems evermore elusive today. In light of the divisiveness and racism rampant in our society that mars efforts toward multiculturalism and diversity, such as those undertaken at universities like Norwich, tolerance seems like the impossible dream that is the object of the quest of the chivalrous knight Don Quixote. 26 Bibliography Arnold, Thomas Walker. The Preaching of Islam; A History of the Propagation of the Muslim Faith. New York: C. Scribner's sons, 1913. http://archive.org/details/preachingofisla00arno. Aznar, Fernando. La Alhambra y el Generalife de Granada. Monumentos Declared of World Interest by Unescco. Mariarsa:1985. BBC Worldwide Learning. The Moorish South: Art in Muslim and Christian Spain from 711- 1492. Documentary Film. The Art of Spain: From the Moors to Modernism, 2009. https://fod.infobase.com/p_ViewVideo.aspx?xtid=39408. Cervantes, Miguel. Don Quixote. Translated by Edith Grossman. 5 edition. New York: Harper Collins, 2003. Fernández, Luis. La Historia de España en 100 preguntas. Madrid, Spain: Ediciones Nowtilus, 2019. https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/norwich/reader.action?docID=5703133&ppg=1. Fernández, María Luisa. "Second Flowering: Art of the Mudejars." Saudi Aramco World, The Legacy of Al-Andalus, 44, no. 1 (February 1993): 36–41. Harsolia, Khadija Mohiuddin. "Captivity, Confinement and Resistance in Mudejar and Morisco Literature." University of California, Riverside, 2016. WorldCat.org. https://search.proquest.com/docview/1849025713?accountid=14521. Kalmar, Ivan Davidson. "Moorish Style: Orientalism, the Jews, and Synagogue Architecture." Jewish Social Studies 7, no. 3 (2001): 68–100. "La Caligrafía Árabe." Accessed February 21, 2020. http://www.arabespanol.org/cultura/caligrafia.htm. Maíz Chacón, Jorge. Breve historia de los reinos ibéricos. 1a. edición. Quintaesencia ; 6. Barcelona: Ariel, 2013. http://catdir.loc.gov/catdir/enhancements/fy1313/2013369841- b.html. Menocal, Maria Rosa. The Ornament of the World: How Muslims, Jews and Christians Created a Culture of Tolerance in Medieval Spain. Reprint edition. Boston: Back Bay Books, 2003. O'Callaghan, Joseph. A History of Medieval Spain. 1st ed. Ithaca, New York: Cornell University Press, 1975. https://ebookcentral.proquest.com/lib/norwich/detail.action?docID=3138541. 27 Phillips, William D., and Carla Rahn Phillips. A Concise History of Spain. Cambridge Concise Histories. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010. https://library.norwich.edu/login?url=https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true &db=e000xna&AN=490553&scope=site. Raquejo, Tonia. "The 'Arab Cathedrals': Moorish Architecture as Seen by British Travellers." The Burlington Magazine 128, no. 1001 (1986): 555–63. Sheren, Ila Nicole. "Transcultured Architecture: Mudéjar's Epic Journey Reinterpreted." Contemporaneity: Historical Presence in Visual Culture 1 (June 1, 2011): 137–51. https://doi.org/10.5195/contemp.2011.5. Stallings-Ward, Judith. "Tiny (Erasmian) Dagger or Large Poniard? Metonymy vs. Metaphor in the Cave of Montesinos Episode in Don Quixote." Comparative Literature Studies. 43.4 (2006) special issue: Don Quixote and 400 Years of World Literature. 441-65. Stallings-Ward, Judith. Gerardo Diego´s Creation Myth of Music: Fábula de Equis y Zeda. London: Routledge, 2020. Urquízar-Herrera, Antonio. Admiration and Awe: Morisco Buildings and Identity Negotiations in Early Modern Spanish Historiography. 1 online resource (289 pages) vols. Oxford: OUP Oxford, 2017. http://public.ebookcentral.proquest.com/choice/publicfullrecord.aspx?p=4850548. Watt, W. Montgomery. A History of Islamic Spain. Islamic Surveys; 4. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1977.

The College Mefcufy. VOL. IV. GETTYSBURG, PA., DECEMBER, 1896. No. 8. THE COLLEGE MEftClPRY, Published each month during the college year by the Students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. STAFF. Editor: ROBBIN B. WOLF, '97. Associate Editors : LEWIS C. MANGES, '97. ED. W. MEISEN H ELDER, SAMUEL J. MILLER '97. CHARLES T. LARK '98. JOHN W. OTT, '97. CHARLES H. TILP, '98. E. L. KOLLER, '98. Alumni Association Editor: REV. D. FRANK GARLAND, A. M., Baltimore, Md. Business Manager: HARRY R, SMITH, '97. Assistant Business Manager: JOHN E. MEISENHELDER, '97. ".". jOne volume (ten months). . . . $l.no iMiMS-\Siuglecoples, . . .15 Payable in advance All Students are requested to hand us matter for publication The Alumni and ex-members or the College will favor us by-sending Information concerning their whereabouts or any Items they may think would be Interesting for publication. All subscriptions and business matters should be addressed to the business manager. Matter intended for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address, THE COLLEGE MEHCUKY, Gettysburg, Pa. CONTENTS. EDITORIAL, 114 DE ORATORE, - --. --- 117 AN ADVENTURE (Poetry), --- 118 AN APPEAL, "9 A LULL FROM THE HIVE (Poetry), --- 120 COLLEGE LOCALS, 120 ALUMNI NOTES, -- 122 ATHLETIC NOTES, 125 TOWN AND SEMINARY NOTES, 127 FRATERNITY NOTES, - --- '--128 SUBJECTS FOR "ROMAN LAW" THESES, 129 LITERARY SOCIETIES, --- . - - 129 EXCHANGES, --- 129 EDITORIAL. REVIEWS ! Examinations ! ! Vacation ! ! ! The stereot3rped program is about to be ren-dered. The term, on the whole, has been un-usually pleasant. Seldom has there been a fall session of so much charming weather. This has been conducive to good spirits with the professors as well as with the bo}rs. Sev-eral interruptions broke the monotony of col-lege work—the foot-ball games, the visit of the Columbian Club, Election day, Thanksgiving day, Institute week and several others. The work in the class-room has been very good, and this is somewhat surprising in the face of the great temptation to stay out-of-doors. The moral and spiritual work of the term is shown in the excellent results in the Y. M. C. A., alike in the meeetings, in the efforts among the non-members, and in the continu-ation of the week of prayer during the second week. Neither has athletic activity been neglected. The "gridiron," bowling alleys, gymnasium and tennis courts have been well patronized. After all comes vacation, especially desired by the Freshmen. The MERCURY extends to all its heartiest wishes for a Merry Christmas and a Prosperous New Year. ' + * * INTER-COLLEGIATE ORATORICAL CONTEST TO BE HELD AT GETTYSBURG.—The annual meeting of the delegates composing the Com-mittee of Arrangements of the State Inter-collegiate Oratorical Union was held at the Windsor Hotel, Philadelphia, on Saturday, Nov. 21st. Fourteen representatives were present from the seven following colleges : Lafayette, Lehigh, Muhlenberg, Franklin and Marshal, Ursinus, Swarthmore and Gettys- "S THE COLLEGE MERCURY. burg. Our delegates were G. F. Abel, '97, from Philo, and R. B. Woll, '97, from Phrena. President Yetter, late of Muhlenberg, called the meeting to order. The unfinished business was then taken up and completed. The re-quest of Susquehanna University for admission was refused on the grounds that the Union is large enough and the University very young. After hearing the delegates, it was decided to hold the contest at Gettysburg on March 27th, 1897. Hon. John Stuart, of Chambers-burg; Hon. J. B. McPherson, of Harrisburg, and Hon. Rob't E. Pattison, of Philadelphia, were chosen to act as judges of the contest. The officers elected are: Pres., R. N. Hood, of Lehigh ; Vice Pres., W. E. Stoeckel, of Muhlenberg; Treas., G. F. Abel, of Get-tysburg; Sec, \V. H. Kready, of Franklin and Marshal ; Executive Committee, Blair, of Swarthmore; Shenk, of Lafayette; Wolf, of Gettysburg, and the Pres. and Sec. ex officio. A rotation system was adopted so as to have the contest held once in every seven years at each college. The contest will be held at Gettysburg, 1897; Lafayette, 1898; Lehigh, 1899; Muhlenberg, 1900; Ursinus, 1901; Franklin and Marshal, 1902, and Swarthmore, 1903. A communication has just been received from Muhlenberg asking Gettysburg to ex-change with her. The following considera-tions make such an exchange desirable : the expense and trouble attending the contest and the fact that our oratorical talent does not promise us the prize. The expense will be from sixty to one hundred dollars, even if we can overcome the trouble; but when Gettys-burg has the contest, she should have a fair prospect of the prize. The only objection to the exchange is that Muhlenburg has already had the contest there, while Gettysburg has never had it. No action has yet been taken on the matter. * * * IT is to be hoped that the article in our last issue, on the Gettysburg Club at New Haven, by Wm. J. Gies, has been thoughtfully read and pondered by the different Alumni. This is at present the only Gettysburg Alumni Club in existence, outside of the general associa-tion. There should be other clubs of this kind at such centres as York, Philadelphia, Balti-more, Harrisburg, Altooua and other places. Such organizations are not only pleasant for the members, but are beneficent to the institu-tion. One of the chief objects of the clubs should be to furnish recruits for the college. No doubt the motive which prompted the New Haven men to form a Gettysburg Club was their interest in their Alma Mater. There are few better ways of showing your interest in the college, than by the formation of such clubs. The New Haven men have already had let-ter heads printed. At the top of the page in large characters are the words, The Yale Get-tysburg Club, while to the left in small type is a list of the officers for i896-'g7. Pres., Wm. J. Gies, '93; Vice Pres., C. F. Kloss, '94; Historian, H. L. M. Hoffman, '95; Sec, A. H. Brown, '96; Treas., D. F. Culler, '93, * * * OUR RELATIONS WITH DICKINSON.—There has been considerable talk, throughout the present term, in favor of contracting friendly relations with Dickinson. Our neighbor has intimated that we ought to come on bended knees and uncovered heads and apologize for all the defeats which she has suffered at the hands of the Gettysburg athletic teams. Get-tysburg has too much dignity to submit to such conditions, but being eager to renew the annual games with Dickinson and desirous of being on friendty terms with her neighbors, the Gettysburg boys held a mass meeting and selected one of the professors to meet with rep-resentatives from Dickinson. So much for Gettysburg. What has been the response of Dickinson ? She sent fifty of her boys to Harrisburg on the day of our game with Swarthmore, who did their utmost to have Gettysburg defeated. The Dickinsonian in their issue of Nov. 7th, recog-nizing the disgraceful character of such be-havior, offers the following by way of apology: THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 116 "There were some men whose behavior at Har-risburg, had they been college men, would have disgraced Dickinson. The}7 were town boys and not students of the college, yet Dick-inson will, in all probability, get a bad repu-tation on account of the incident.'' This sounds plausible. But the facts are in evidence against it. Several of the Gettysburg boys, being fraternity men, went up and spoke with the Dickinson men belonging to their respect-ive fraternities and thus found out that the students had been doing all the mean work for which their Weekly blames the town men. But in glancing over the Dickinsonian, a second article is noticed. This was probably written by one of the associate editors, who was ignorant of the scheme to get out of the trouble. This article says : "Dickinson rooted lustilv for Swarthmore and we do not consider this in any degree objectionable. We do, however, think that the ungentlemanly con-duct and disgraceful language of a few of the students is deserving of the harshest censure. Just such actions as these are the cause of so much talk about college rowdyism." Let the readers form their own conclusions, from the two quotations, as to the attitude of Dickinson towards Gettysburg. * * * WE take pleasure in calling the attention of the readers to the publication of the '98 Spec-trum. The work is being pushed vigorously by the class, and judging from the present prospects, it will be an unusually interesting one. The men on the Staff are the leading members of the class and are exerting all their powers to make it a success. The Alumni department of which Win. J. Gies, '93, has been elected editor, will be one of the import-ant new features. The artist's corps is also very good as was seen in their work on the '97 Spectrum. Many new cuts will supplant the old ones which have been reproduced in nearly all the preceding issues. These and several other features point to a good book, one which deserves support. It comes only once a year. It need not be paid for till May, '96. Send in your subscriptions now and thus give them encouragement in their task. All suggestions which may tend to improve the publication will be very thankfully received by the Staff. * * * EVERYONE desires to enter the coming new year with a clean record for the past year. To this end, kindly pay your subscription fee to the MERCURY. Our treasury is very low and we, .too, would like to enter the new year with everything squared up for the old. If you are in doubt as to the amount of your ar-rears, consult the Business Manager. ' * * * FEVERISH HASTE.—Americans are always in a hurry. Proverbs on the foolishness of haste seem to have no influence. We work with one eye on the clock. Trains move too slow for us. Steamers are regular snails. We can "do" Europe in a month and he is a poor sight-seeing traveler who cannot see Rome in three days. We "run" down to the city. We "run" out west. We "rush" to conventions and "rush" through them as well. Every-thing must have the electric movement, in seeking wealth, in seeking pleasure, in ac-quiring an education and even in prayer and praise. We have gotten beyond the "long" sermon and there is no place in the liturgy of devotion for practical men and women for the "long" prayer. We sympathize with John Foster who longed for the power of touching men and women with the spell of "be quiet." No thorough work can be done in a hurry. No great picture was ever painted by contract against time. The author who writes the book that lives must have leisure, quiet and the seclusion of his stud}7, away from the rush-ing tide of busy life. The old "A B C" method may be slow but it is sensible. He is wise who takes time for thorough preparation for his life-work, who is willing to work and to wait. Feverish haste to get into college, feverish haste to get through and into the business or profession of one's choice is all a mistake, a costly blunder. The old proverb can be wisely applied to one seeking an edu-cation, "Make haste slowly." G. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. WILLING WORKERS.—There is always work awaiting the willing worker. He who puts his whole heart into his work will be success- ! Inl in it. He will always be wanted in his business or his profession. He who goes grumbling to his task will soon find himself going backward in his work until finally he may be "out of a job" altogether. In every business and in every profession we are told there is always "room at the top." Here at the top is where you find the willing worker. What an army of unwilling workers then there must be in the world. There are far too many workmen who throw down their tools where they stand on the instant the bell announces '•quit work" and who will wait next day. patiently for the signal to begin again. Where you find one man who magnifies his office, by throwing his whole soul in his work, and bending every energy to success in it, you must find nine or perhaps ninety-nine who work mechanically. Even in the ministry there are men who are forever haunted with the fear of doing unrewarded work. I sup-pose it is true in every profession that the few willingly work for the work's sake, and the many struggle along merely as a matter of business necessity. This characteristic of will-ingness to work is to be seen in student-life, where habits of work are formed and fixed. Many boys, and girls, too, for that matter, are in college merely to "finish" their education, as if that were a thing possible of achievement, or to get a diploma, to be graduated. The result is they "finish" when they get their diploma. They are at the end of advancement then, and have reached the limit of progress. For the remainder of life, as up to that time work pushes theni, they belong to the great army of Unwilling workers. But he, who comes to col-lege not to "finish," but to fit himself for life work, not to get a diploma, but to get a basis lor future growth and development, will prove himself in all his college work to be a willing worker. When he leaves the college halls he will join the army of willing workers who adorn their profession or their business, and who are a power in the world. May the army of willing workers inc. ease ! G. DE ORATORE. [In anticipation of the coming oratorical contest and in order to arouse more spirit in the society work, we publish in this issue an article, entitled "De Oratore," by Morris W. Croll, '89, Professor in the University School, Cleveland, Ohio. The article was taken from the University School Record^ There has recently been a noticeable revival of public speaking as an art. While we were deploring the decay of oratory, we suddenly found that we had a number of public men be-fore us who, whatever their failings, are at least successful students of eloquence. The platform, with its pine table and its semi-circle of influential citizens, has again become a feature of political campaigns, and the square-jawed orator once more receives, with his hand thrust between the first and second buttons of his frock-coat, the wild greetings of his fellow-citizens. There has been, moreover, whether it is or is not due to the revival of oratory in politics, a similar revival in some of the largest col-leges. Everyone who has read the news-papers must have noticed that the debating clubs of Princeton, Harvard, Yale and "the Tech" have taken a prominent position among the student organizations of their respective institutions. In most large colleges there are now two rival societies, which command the respect and enthusiastic support of the student-body by the direct, simple and convincing ex-temporaneous speaking of their members. In short, it is evident that the old-fashioned de-bate has become popular. This is a consummation which many of us have devoutedly wished. The debating-club was the school in which Americans of the last generation learned statecraft. And they learned not only that, but two yet more desir-able things—the power, namely, of thinking at once rapidly and logically, and the power of putting .thought readily into consecutive language. The=e ends are as desirable, surely, for us as they were for our fathers. It is useless, however, to insist upon the THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 118 profitableness of debating. That is obvious. It is as a form of amusement, as a sport, that debating I think, is not appreciated. "The spice of life," says Stevenson, "is battle." Who would compare the enjoyment of seeing the best horse in the world run against an invisible record with that of seeing six raw-boned trotters striving toward the line at a country fair ? And who would not go further to hear a subject tossed about between affirma-tive and negative than to hear the same sub-ject expounded by its most learned advocate ? There may be some pleasures of which rivalry is not an element, but the sum and substance of all that which we call sport is eager compe-tition. And, with this definition in mind, I venture to say that there is greater striving, closer application of the powers of a man to a desired object, a narrower watch for advantage, and a quicker grasp of opportunity in a lively debate than in a foot-ball match. Consider, for one thing, how much depends upon the manner of marshalling facts. When you have ended you know whether or not each one has fitted into its place and helped to strengthen the whole. You know whether or not they are real, significant facts, and whether, if they are not significant, you have made them seem so. You know, too, if it is a good, fair-and-square extemporaneous debate, what you have forgotten and where you lost your grasp and failed to make your point; and you squirm with eagerness to try again. But it is all over with you. You have had your chance and either won or lost with it. You must await patiently the decision of the judges, who sit, like the fair ladies in the tournaments of old, ready to award the prize to the better combat-ants. Here is sport enough in all conscience, and nothing said of the hundred details of the game—of the skill in anticipating the oppo-nents' plan of attack, of the incidents that oc-cur, so unexpectedly, diverting the fight to this issue and to that, of the fine fencing with the swords of rebuttal and rejoinder which be-gins after the opening speech. Is it not clear that success in the art—or, let us say the sport—of debating requires rare qualities ? Finally, like all good sports, debating demands a fine balance of temper, equal parts of spirit and good humor; and he will be most success-ful and win most judges who is "eager to fight, yet not averse to quarrel." M. W. C. AN ADVENTURE. While the western sun was sinking On that feast-day of the Fall, Through the corridors we wandered Of old "recitation hall." On Professor Bikle's blackboard, As through his room we did pass, We had written our initials For to morrow's I^atin class. We had viewed the halls where students Oft orating, raise their voice, "Phrenakosmian" was quite nice, but "Philomatheau" was our choice. On the walls the shadows, deepening. Plainly marked the close of day. Warning us we'd miss our supper, Should we longer dare to stay. Dearer joys there are than supper, (Leastways on Thanksgiving Day) So we tarried in the "Sweat-box" •Singing, "When I'm far away,'' "Sometimes you may think of me dear." And the old familiar song Had, to me, peculiar meaning As we sang it, lingering long. Groping then adowu the stairway, We were one and all quite shocked, On arriving at the entrance, There to find the door fast locked. We might shout from out a window To some passing boy or man, But, for several obvious reasons, We objected to this plan. In our minds there was strange mixture Of amusement and dismay, When we found to leave this prison There was but one other way. We must stumble up that stairway To the gloomy upper floors, Down the fire escape and exit Through two swinging iron doors. In this pleasant manner, took we, Down through tower dark and tall, Unconventional departure From the recitation hall. I will ne'er forget that visit, Neither do I think will you, To that building of the college Of the "orange and the blue." M. G. IK) THE COLLEGE MERCURY, AN APPEAL TO THE ALUMNI AND FRIENDS OF THE COL-LEGE FOR SUPPORT OF THE "SPECTRUM." The Junior class would respectfully call the attention of the alumni and friends of the col-lege to the Annual soon to be issued by its representatives, the '98 "Spectrum" Board. The "Spectrum" idea has always been cordi-ally endorsed by the Faculty ; the students in college are enthusiastically co-operating in the consummation of the special plans designed for the forthcoming Annual ; the class of '98 is unanimously as well as heartily supporting the work now devolving upon its chosen rep-resentatives, and the Staff of editors and man-agers itself is using every endeavor to publish a "Spectrum" that will be a lasting credit to the college and the class. That the Staff will be able to accomplish this desideratum, with the co-operation of the student body and the alumni, it feels entirely confident. Numerous decided improvements over former Annuals have been devised and several entirely new features will be presented. Sta-tistics and historical data in regard to college events of the past year and with reference to the classes, fraternities, societies, athletics, as-sociations, etc., etc., will receive special at-trition. Original literary contributions, of a character suitable for the "Spectrum," will be given the prominence they deserve. ' In order to make the '98 "Spectrum" of particular interest to the Gettysburg graduates a large section of the book will be devoted en-tirely to the alumni. This department will comprise all of the statistics, etc., given in the '93 "Spectrum," revised to date, and, besides, will comprehend many new and additional lads and features of interest and value to all who are in any way interested in the affairs of Gettysburg College. The Staff, in the arrange-ment and compilation of this department, have been fortunate in securing the kind assistance of an able and enthusiastic Gettysburg Alum-nus. The Staff feels assured that this part of the volume will be generally considered of special importance and no labor will be spared to make it the most complete and valuable alumni record issued within recent years. Suggestions in regard to this department as well as to any other matter relating to the book will be very thankfully received. General communications should be addressed to the Editor, E. W. Meisenhelder. The Staff earnestly appeals to the alumni for financial support of the "Spectrum." Prac-tically every student at Gettysburg has favor-ably responded to our solicitation for subscrip-tions and we respectfully urge every alumnus to do likewise. Many graduates have already placed their names on our subscription lists, but we hope to receive many more before the next term opens. Subscriptions given to any of the students during vacation will be promptly transmitted to the Staff. Business communications should be addressed to the Manager, S. M. Lutz. We hope to make the '98 "Spectrum" the very best annual ever published at Gettysburg. To do so, however, it is quite obvious that we must have the united support of the alumni. The student-body is doing its full share to aid us in every way. May we not hope that the alumni will freely give us the material assist-ance we need in order to publish an Annual that will be received by every friend of the college with a feeling of real pride and pro-nounced gratification? We mean to leave nothing undone to perform completely the part expected of us. Will the alumni do theirs ? We make an earnest appeal for unanimous support. May this sentiment now, and al-ways, receive universal approval and adop-tion—" Every Gettysburgian for the 'Spec-trum' and the 'Spectrum' for Gettysburg." THE STAFF. Why don't we have a few class games of foot-ball. Last year these were among the most interesting we had. Surely there is good material in all the classes—especially, the Freshman. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 120 A LULL FROM THE HIVE. Be earnest forever ! Be this our endeavor ! Be honest, be cheerful, be kind ! Making the spirit the test of our merit, To outward appearance blind. Our memory Will cherished be By teachers and class mates and friends If efforts are made towards these ends- Whenever you roam from the pales of your home In the bright sunny days of a spring, You see the bees gather from forest, from heather, Golden stores while they buzz and they sing. They nectar sip From lilies' lip Which gives to them food and good cheer When days become cold, lone, and drear. In the spring of our life, when earth's joyous and rife, And all things are happy and gay, When song birds are filling the air with their trilling, Your honey, O store, while you may ! When days of gloom And sadness come. The heart and the memory will hold Its treasures more precious than gold. W. H. B. C, '99. COLLEGE LOCALS. EbMUND W. MEiSE.NHEi.niiR and E t,. ROLLER, Editors. Dr. N. (to 190b Cadet who is verj' much in-teiested in something between himself and the board)—Mr. K., you had better take that to the window where you have better light. Mr. S., '99, recently went out after turkeys. After a walk of about four miles and a half, he arrived at the desired place. Cautiously walk-ing along a fence, he is surprised by the owner of the property who immediately begins to shoot. Walton now held up his hands and said, "I surrender." But when three men strive to tie him he makes a brave fight and finally succeeds in gaining his freedom. Now knocking two of the men down he makes a bold dash for the road. The men follow in hot pursuit and Walton falls over a plow. Never losing his presence of mind, he immedi-ately jumps up and runs into a brook. Hav-ing thrown the pursuers from his track by this piece of strategy he proceeds to a neighboring woods where he lies behind a log. till late at night. Finally he makes his way home where he is received with open arms by his worried com-panions. The MERCURY extends its sympathy to Mr. S. for injuries received. Dr. N. (to Mr. D., 1900, who is up at the board and holding a book under his coat), "You might injure your arm.by holding things so tightly under your coat." Mr. E., '99, tells us "many of our presi-dents had a very humble beginning, for in-stance, George Washington the rail-splitter." Prof. Van O., in Prep. Greek, to Mr. M.— "Have you Kelsey's edition?" Mr. M.—"No, sir." Prof. Van O.—"Who's have you?" Mr. M.—"Anabasis'." Mr. D., 1900, says that "James II, of Eng-land, w7as of a weak character because he chewed tobacco." Dr. B.—"Mr. M., what was the Koran ?" Mr. M., '97.—"An officer appointed by—" Class laughs and Mr. M. stops short in his explanation. Mr. R., '99, would like to know who Mr. Hastings is and what position Mr. Hastings is holding in Penn'a. Mr. K., '98, (translating German),—"My hat fell down confused." Prof. K. (to Mr. B., '98, who has been sleeping and has been rudely awakened to re-cite)—" Mr. B. you ought to feel refreshed after your little nap." Dr. B.—"If your eyes were shut how would you recognize Br." Mr. F., '98.—"By its color." Mr. B., '99, (in gymnasium and talking to Mr. L., 1900)—"M. L,. don't get on those mats with your feet." William Harrison Winfield R., of Prep., re-cently jewed a town storekeeper five cents on a broom. After a vain effort to jew him more he asked him, "Wouldn't you just wrap it up since I don't like to carry a broom along the streets ? " Mr. M., '99, (explaining the habitability of the moon)—"The moon revolves around the sun and has its own moon and is inhabited and the inhabitants revolve on their axes. Mr. G. 1900, wishes to borrow a horn, on which he wishes to increase his breathing ca-pacity ; Dr. S. having marked him minus. Every evening, about dark, G. will stick his head out of the window and look around to see if any one is near. If no one is near, he will blow a feeble blast on the horn and quickly withdraw, appreciating the joke hugely. We wish Mr. G. all success in his efforts. Mr. E., 1900, recites with great feeling and with good effect, "God bless the man who first invented sleep." I .'I THE COLLEGE MERCURY. Prof. K (to Mr. B., who is reading an es-say)—" The last sentence is not correct. Can you tell me why ? " Mr. B., 1900—"It is too much like a Soph-omore's writing." Prof. K.—"That's right. Quite a number of pretty words which mean nothing." Overheard at the W. M. R. R. depot from the lips of a young lady : "Well, Mr. A., I think you are the nicest man on earth." Ernie, '97, is strictly in it. Several bright Sophs intending to have some fun paid a visit to "Jess" K. the other night. Cayenne pepper was wafted about the room and burnt in the flame of the lamp. "Jesse" stood the test very well and . the "Sophs," after a short while, were compelled to leave. A more crestfallen crowd would, with difficulty, have been found. It was plainly a case of "the hunter hunted." Josey K., '99, who is a remarkable wit, said that "T., '99, received a ten for night work." Joe had reference to the Prep. fire. "Stocky" recently asked on what date New Year came last year. Mr. F., '98, has a new way of getting off from reciting Greek—he hides his book when the recitation period comes. Prof. Klinger is on to it, however. Prof. K. (in Greek, to Mr. B., '98, who has just flunked)—"Mr. B., I supposed you would have been better prepared to recite after your pleasant little nap." The back row in Lab. of the Classical Jun-iors have suddenly been deprived of the sober-ing effects of the presence of Mr. A. B. B. V. O., who departed for more peaceable climes about a week ago. "How can a fellow do sat-isfactory work, Mr. Stover, when there are a lot of bums banging around ? " The standard of the college is surely being raised, at least the standard of the Sophomore class, when a '99 man discourses fluently upon the Darwin theory—as was heard a few days ago. Truly we have "all sorts and conditions of men" around here, Darwinites, Silverites, Atheists and Preps. Mr. H., 1900, received quite a "moist" re-ception at the rear door of middle division lately. It always pays for a Freshman to "look aloft," especially when he has his Sunday clothes on, for the more moisture greens re-ceive the longer they will retain their verd-ancy. Mr. S., 1900, was lately giving his opinion about a certain "dramist." We suppose he meant "dramatist," but then he's only a Freshman and will learn. Prof. H., in teaching Anglo Saxon, has at last succeeded in impressing upon the mind of Mr. L-, of the Dummies, '98, that we get from the old English gumena our word grootn. "You may have occasion to use it some time." Mr. F., '98, (in Anglo Saxon)—"And he hastened about an ell.'' Prof. H.—"Mr. F., he wouldn't have has-tened very far in that case, would he?" A word about the College Musical Clubs. The very creditable manner in which they fur-nished the music for the recent Adams County Institute has again brought them before the people. The music this year, both of the Glee Club and of the Violin Quartet, has been very much better than any before given— simply the result of diligent and frequent prac-tice. The Glee Club has been rather unfort-unate in losing temporarily its second bass, Mr. Manges, whose larynx was injured in foot-ball practice, but his active and neces-sary work as manager has still continued. The clubs are in good condition now and the stu-dents in general will lose nothing by taking an interest in them—for they represent the col-lege musically, as the foot-ball and base-ball teams represent it in the capacity of athletics. The Juniors are writing plays for Prof. Himes. The whole college is awaiting the re-sult anxiously, for they will no doubt revolu-tionize the whole dramatic science. They range all the way from Adam and Eve to the Judgment Day. One of the sources of pleasure of the last month, was Dr. Everett's lecture on "Our Girls." A fair sized audience greeted him, which, however, should have been considera-bly larger, in view of the frequent announce-ments. The lecture was very entertaining, brim full of humor and anecdotes. We all , want to hear the Dr. again. Overheard in the Shakespeare recitation : T., '98—Say, Nick, what does "Gervinus" mean in the notes to the plays ? Nick, '98—"Why, that's the German for the author of the notes.'' S., 1900, seems to take quite an interest in the establishment of the Battlefield Photo-grapher. If he wants his pictures taken free, he is certainly going to lots of trouble. There i may be other reasons. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. This is about the time when the Sophomores ; are beginning to put on a little dignity. How- ' ever, they cannot overcome their little habit of giving their class yell every time they see a Freshman walk across the campus—just to show him how brave they are. Our society reading rooms are being mis-used by some of the fellows—especially by non-society men. They ought to realize that the rooms are for "reading," and that for this absolute quiet is needed. They were not fitted up for club rooms or places to play foot-ball. If everyone would individually realize this fact and respect the rights of his fellow student, it would certainly be better for all concerned. "Bobby" W., '98, has lately been quite at-tentive to the fair sex—one of them. This is quite surprising, viewed from our past knowl-edge of W., but then it must happen to them all, and Bobby has been captured. Congrat- | illations. During the recent convention of the Adams County Teachers' Institute some of the college fellows—especially those of the musical clubs— had the pleasure of associating with Prof. Park-er, of Binghampton, N. Y., and who conducted the music. He is a jovial good fellow, and took quite an interest in the boys, as did the boys in him. He sang several solos at the In-stitute. "Herbie" F., '98, recently in chapel one morning uttered quite a feminine shriek. It is said he "saw snakes" —one, anyway. The latest capture that the girls of Gettys-burg have made is "Albertus." Well, well, will wonders never cease ? We thought he was hardened. It is said, too, that the young ladies have been also inquiring earnestly after Fv '98. One of the fellows recently in German used the word "compar-able," accenting the second syllable. Dr. M.—"I would pronounce that 'com-par-able.' " "Since when ? Thats the first time I ever heard it pronounced that way." Dr. M.—"Well, you are not so old that you can't learn a few new things. There are many things happening continu-ally in and about college that would make very interesting items among the locals, but which never get there because they never reach the ears of the editors. It is the duty of the fellows, and to the interest of them all, that they hand such things in to the local de-partment, and thus increase its interest. Very few items are handed in and the editors have to do entirely personal work in getting such as do appear. We ask your assistance. The skillful investigation of scientific intel-lect, expanding in every direction, will ever bring to light new and wonderful discoveries. Following close on the disclosures made by the now famous Roentgen, which prove that cer-tain rays of light can be made to pass through even the obtuse head of a Sophomore, the an-nouncement now issues from the Chemical Lab. Dept., that the fruit of the genus Dios-pysos Virginiana of the natural order Ebena-ceae, commonly called "persimmons," may be obtained from the Platanus Occidentalis or syc-amore tree. This startling fact, like so many others in the scientific world, was chanced upon by the "Professor" quite accidentally, but that makes it none the less interesting. Samples of the delicious fruit recently secured, and a full explanation showing with what ease and rapidity it is digested, may be obtained upon application. Be sure that vou are not faked. ALUMNI-I. C. MANGES and CHARLES H. TILP, Editars. '41. St. Paul's Lutheran church, of Steel-ton, Pa., and the new church at High Spire, Pa., are to be formed into one charge. Rev. E. Miller, D. D., will be the pastor. '44. Rev. Peter Anstadt, D. D., of York, Pa., is considering the question of publishing a biography of the Rev. Doctor Ezra Keller, '35- '45. Rev. J. F. Probst has left Asbury Park, and will spend part of the winter at Ashville, N. C. His health has not improved to such an extent that he is able to resume the active work of the ministry. '46. Rev. Conrad Kuhl, D. D., prepared the history of the Central Illinois Synod for the 50 years of its existence, that was read by Dr. Rhodes, at the convention held at Hills-boro, 111., in October. '48. Many requests have come to Rev. P. Born, D. D., especially from former Theolog-ical students, to have his Inductive Bible Study ot the Old and New Testament issued in book form. Now that he has retired from active work as professor the call comes louder than l-?l THE COLLEGE MERCURY. ever. The work will compose a volume of about 300 pages. '50. Dr. M. H. Valentine's new book on "Ethics," will be out before Jan. 1st. The work will be used as a text-book in our col-lege. '52. Rev. Prof. John J. Scherer, of Marion, Va., has returned from a trip to Texas. '54. Rev. John Tomlinson, Dixonville, Pa., has compiled some valuable statistics, which appear in the Lutheran World of Nov. 26th. They are worthy to be read and pondered. '55. Rev. P. Bergstresser, D. D., of Rock-wood, Pa., spent vSunday, Nov. 22, in Alle-gheny City and filled the pulpit of his son, Rev. Fuller Bergstresser. '57. Rev. H. L. Baugher, D. D., has been elected Managing Editor of The Lutheran Wo//,/. The Doctor will give his undivided attention to this arduous and responsible work. This excellent paper is indeed fortunate in se-curing the services of so learned a man. '58. The Lutheran Observer of Nov. 20, con-tains a poem entitled, "Nearer Home," by Rev. B. H. Hunt, that was written and pub-lished in the Observer while the author was a student at college. The song is found in many song books. '59. After nineteen yearsof editorial service, Rev. J. H. Sieker has transferred the editor-ship of Zeuge die Wahrheit, to pastor Stack- In^/., of Paterson, N. J. '60. Rev. Prof. M. H. Richards, D. D., de-livered the first of a series of lectures at the Moravian College, Bethlehem, Pa. His sub-ject was, "An Excursion to Eden." The lec-ture was highly praised and the students and friends are looking forward with pleasure to the second lecture, soon to be delivered. '61. Rev. L. Grab has accepted the call of St. Mark's church, Omaha, Neb., and is at work in his new field. '62. Rev J. B. Keller, late pastor at Smiths-burg, Md., will spend the winter in Georgia. '62. The corner stone for the new Lutheran church at Vandergrift, Pa., was laid on Thurs-day November 12th. The sermon was preached by Rev. M. I,. Culler, president of the Pitts-burg Synod, and the cornerstone was laid by Rev. J. W. Poffinberger, '72 of Leechburg, Pa. '62 Prof. H. E. Jacobs, D. D., LL- D., president of Mt. Airy Theological Seminary, Philadelphia, filled the pulpit of College church, Sunday, Nov. 15. '63. Rev. J. L. Smith, D. D., of Pittsburg, Pa., on Sunday, November 29, organized the St. Paul's Evangelical Lutheran church of Wilkinsburg, Pa. This is the first Lutheran congregation organized in that thriving town, and was brought about through the untiring efforts of Dr. Smith. '63. The November number of The Luth-eran contains an obituary and cut of the late Prof. Davis Garber, Ph. D. Muhlenberg Col-lege, where he labored for 26 years, has sus-tained a great loss in his death. '63. Rev. E. J. Wolf, D. D., recently at-tended a meeting of the Common Service Com-mittee at Alleutown, which is now preparing a Liturgy. '64. Friday evening, October 30th, the Rev. J. G. Griffith, pastor of the English Lutheran church, Lawrence, Kansas, by request, deliv-ered an address on the Reformation of the 16th century to about 400 Indians at Haskell Insti-tute. '64. The Zanesville, (O.,) Times Recorder of Nov. 30th, contains an account of the 20th anniversary service held in St. John's Evan-gelical Lutheran church of that city. It gives a review of the work done by the pastor, Rev. Frank Richard, D. D., during his long service in this church, and shows that the work has prospered in his hands, during the past fifth of of a century. The ladies of the church gave an elegant reception and reunion at the par-sonage, on Nov. 26, in honor of the occason. '65. Rev. Joseph Hillpot died on October 30th at Quakertown, Pa. He was a member of the Pennsylvania Ministerium. '69. Dr. J. A. Clutz and Rev. H. L. Yar-ger, '83, assisted at the dedication of the First church of St. Joseph, Mo., on November 15. '73. Rev. T. J. Yost, of Cumberland, Md., preached the sermon at the opening of the State Convention of the West Virginia C. E. Union held at Clarkesburg, W. Va. '73. Rev. J. A. Singmaster, D. D., Allen-town, preached the sermon at the dedication of St. Matthew's English Lutheran church, Brooklyn, on Nov. 12. He also presented the chancel windows given by Hon. and Mrs. Schieren. THK COLLEGE MERCURY. 124 '73. Rev. Chester H. Traver, late of Rhine-beck, New York, has taken charge of the Lutheran church at Churchtown, New York, and thus succeeds the late Doctor Marcus Empie. '77. Rev. J. A. West has taken charge of the Lutheran church at Londonville, O. He has been warmly received by the people of his I charge. '77. The congregation of Christ Lutheran | church, of Los Angeles, Cal., of which Rev. j M. H. Stine, Ph. D., is pastor, dedicated a new j pipe organ on Sunday, Nov. 15. Rev. Stine has been very successful as pastor of this church, j '78. The good Lutheran people of Palo, 111., are arranging to care for their pastor, Rev. Holmes Dysinger, right royally. The founda-tion is already laid for a fine $3000 parsonage, to be built of dressed stone in harmony with the church itself. '78. Rev. O. C. Roth, pastor of Grace Eng- ! lish Lutheran church, Broadway and Gough street, Baltimore, Md., commemorated his seventh year as pastor on November 2nd. He preached two sermons on the event. '79. The new Lutheran church in Benders-ville, Rev. U. A. Hankey, pastor, is to be dedicated on the second Sunday in December. Dr. E. J. Wolf and Rev. H. H. Weber will have charge of the services. '80. Rev. M. F. Troxell, D. D., of Spring-field, Ills., preached an eloquent sermon on the Reformation, in Grace Lutheran church of that city. '81. Rev. J. W. Byers, D. D., of Nevada, 0., and the people of his congregation royally entertained the Eastern Conference of Witten-berg Synod, during its 97th convention, which was held in Nevada, O. 82. Rev. Chas. R. Trowbridge will spend the winter in Easton, Pa., where he has taken up work in his new charge. '82. Frank E. Colom, Esq., is one of the best and most active lawyers at the Bedford Bar, and a worthy son of his Alma Mate). He was elected president of the Bedford County Sunday School Association, at its 15th annual convention, held at St. Clairsville, Pa. '83. Rev. W. W. Anstadt has accepted the call to Hollidaysburgh, Pa. He will take charge of his new field on the first Saturday in December. '83. Rev. L. M. Kuhns, of Omaha, Neb., laid the corner-stone for his new church a few weeks ago. Rev. H. W. Kuhns, D. D., '56, was present and participated in the services. '83. Rev. H. L. Yarger assisted Rev. W. F. Rentz, of Atchison, Kansas, in a series of special services, and proved himself a valuable assistant. '84. Rev. L. M. Zimmerman, Baltimore, Md., is preaching a series of sermons on "Pil-grim's Progress." One of the subjects was, "The Pitfalls to Young Men." '85. Rev. A. F. Richardson, of Grafton, Wt Va., was unanimously elected president, for his third term, of the West Virginia C. E. Union, which convened in Clarkesburg, W. Va., Nov. 18. '87. Rev. Herbert C. Alleman will be in-stalled pastor of College Church December 6, Rev. Alleman, D. D., of Lancaster, Pa., and Rev. J. C. Kohler, D. D., of Hanover, Pa., are the committee on installation. '90. On Nov. 8th, the cornerstone of Beth-any English Lutheran church, New York City, was laid by the pastor, Rev. J. Fred. W. Kitzmeyer. '90. Rev. Oscar H. Gruver has resigned as pastor of the First English Lutheran church, San Francisco, California. 91. Rev. Stanley Billheimer, Washington, D. C., was in Gettysburg Thanksgiving Day, visiting his parents, Dr. and Mrs. Billheimer, '91. Rev. S. Gring Heffelbower has been called to Mauheim, Pa. '92. Rev. George Beiswanger, pastor of Calvary Lutheran church, Baltimore, Md., en-tertained the members of the present and retir-ing church councils at the parsonage, Thurs-day night, October 22nd. '92. Rev. Edward O. Keen completed his studies in the Reformed Theological Seminary, Lancaster, Pa., in May last, and is now pastor of St. Paul's Reformed church of Waynesboro, Pa., having begun his work there Aug. 1, '92. Rev. D. P. Drawbaugh, McConnells-burg, Pa., has been doing faithful and thorough work in his field and his efforts have been crowned with excellent results. '93. Rev. Marion J. Kline preached the first of a series of four sermons on "The Life of Joseph" in Bethlehem Lutheran Tabernacle, Harrisburg, Pa., on Nov. 15th. The audience was large and the discourse was exceptionally fine. I •■■ THK COLLEGE MERCURY. •93. Rev. \V. S. Oberholtzer has changed his address from MifBjntown, Pa., to Harbin, Indiana. '93. Rev. F. II. Knubie, of New York city, has accepted a call to begin a new English Lutheran church on the west side of New York city. '93. The English Evangelical Lutheran church, Jersey City, Rev. E. E. Neudewitz, pastor, was the recipient of a very costly pul-pit Bible recently. It was given by a member of the same. '93! Rev. John C. Rowers was installed as pastor of St.'Mark's Lutheran church, Wash-ington, I). C, 011 Sunday, November 15th. The charge to the pastor was delivered by Rev. M. L. Beard, '75. of Middletown, Md., and that to the people by Rev. Geo. S. Bow-ers, of Hagetstown, Md. '93. Rev. G. W, haulers, Jr., of Argusville, N. Y., delivered a lecture on "Normal Train-ing in the Sunday School," before the Sharon Institute, at I.ecsville, N. Y., on November 17th. His address was instructive and well received. '93. On Sunday, Nov. 29th, Rev. Wm. C. 1U finer formally began work in his new field at Fayetteville, Pa. '93, The examining committee of the York Bar'met Nov. 20, to examine P. M. Bortner, who has been reading law with Niles ec Neff. Mr. Bortner passed a very creditable examina-tion, and on the motion of J. E. Vandersloot, Esq., a member of the committee, was admit-ted to practice at the York County Courts. '93. Rev. A. A. Kelley was installed pastor Of the Trindle Springs church, Sunday, Nov. 8. Since he has been pastor of this church the membership has been doubled. Rev. and Mrs. Kelley were visiting friends in Gettysburg, Thanksgiving Day. • '94. Herbert A. Allison is a member of the faculty of Susquehanna University. The Oc-tober "number of The Susquehanna contained a good cut of him. His department is the Greek language. '94. Prank E. Pickinger, principal of Cham-bersburg schools, was manager of the foot-ball team, composed of ex-college players, that played our team Nov. 21, on the new athletic held. '96. W. H. Mengcs was captain of the York V. M. C. A. foot-ball team tins fall. ATHLETICS. CHARLES T. LARK, Editor. Gettysburg, 6—Maryland University, o. Gettysburg, 58—Chambersburg ex-college plavers, o. Gettysburg, 64—Western Maryland Col-lege, o. Maryland University having 700 student from whom to select, as a matter of course, has a strong foot-ball team. This eleven, by its excellency on the gridiron, has won for itself the championship of Maryland. It is com-posed of a set of big fellows, almost all of whom have had years of experience in their respective positions. In spite of the fact that our grounds were wet and soggy, the game between Gettysburg and the above mentioned team, on Nov. 14th, was one of unusual inter-est. The players were about evenly matched as regards weight. The playing was so sharp and close that almost through the entire game it looked very much as though neither side would score. Deuson, the left half-back and Capt. of M. U., although the lightest man oh the team, played a most brilliant game. His three years experience on the University of North Carolina eleven, showed up to a good advantage and his work received merited ap-plause. Too much can not be said in praise of Capt. White and Lawyer for their magnificent play-ing. They always play a good game but in this particular one they excelled themselves. Their runs and tackles were the feature of the daw Had our team made more preparation for this game than it did, we would have won by a larger margin. M. U. kicked off and the ball was downed on our 30-yard line. By an elegant exhibition of team work," our fel-lows took the leather from this point to our opponents' 10-yard line, where it was lost on downs. Through the successful use of a quar-terback kick, and their quarter proved himself an adept at this, they captured the hall on their 30-yard line. The ball changed hands ofteu but we finally forced it to their 2-yard line where, on an account of an unfortunate I fumble, they obtained possession of it and again advanced it somewhat down the field, it being on their 20-yard line when the first half ended. The second half was marked by many fine plays. The ball was kept entirely within the territory of M. U., nevertheless it changed hands frequently. . During the last five min- THE COLLEGE MERCURY. [26 utes' play our men summoned all their strength for one mighty effort and after a series of de-termined, desperate rushes, the ball was taken across the line by Capt. White after a 25-yard run. The crowd yelled itself hoarse. Dale added two more points by kicking the goal— 6 to o. Time was called a few minutes after the ball was again put in play. Among the distinguished spectators present were Congressman-elect Benner and Judge Swope. This was one of the most exciting games of the year and we take great pride in placing it under our list of victories. The line-up follows : MARYLAND UNIVERSITY. POSITIONS. GETTYSBURG. Allen left end Moser Steele left tackle Byers Gauss left guard Koppenhaver Riley centre Stifel McCain right guard Hagerman Lewis right tackle Nicholas Dawson right end (Kite) Doty Riddington right half back Dale Barrow quarter back Lawyer Armstrong full back Sheely Touchdown—White. Goal—Dale. Refree—Kump. Umpire— Kuendig. Linesmen—Steward and Leisenring Time of halves—25 and 20 minutes. Our students had anticipated a closer con-test than that which took place on Nov. 21st, between Gettysburg and an eleven from Cham-bersburg, composed of ex-college players. Although somewhat heavier than the oppos-ing team we should by no means have had the walk-over we had. Fine individual playing but lack of team work tells the tale for Cham-bersburg. Our fellows made gains wherever and whenever they desired. "Willie" Burns, 1901, played the star game and seems to be as much at home on the foot-ball field as in the box. We scored 32 points in the first half and 26 iu the second, making the total 58-0. Dale, 1900, missed but one goal out of ten. ■ The following was the line- up : GETTYSBURG. POSITIONS, CHAMBERSBURG. Stifel centre Sherrod Koppenhaver left guard Plank Hagerman right guard Shaefer Ott left tackle Brown Nicholas right tackle Parrott Doty right end Wragg Young (Loudon) left end Pierson Lawyer quarter Orr Burns left half back Smith Dale right half-back G. Fletcher Sheely fullback F. Fletcher Touchdowns—Burns, 3; Dale, 3; Nicholas, 1; Stifel, 1; Sheely, 2. Goals—Dale, 9, Referee—White. Umpire—Kuendig. Lines-men— Leisenring and Lark. Timekeeper—Wheeler. As a matter of course interest on Thanks-giving Day centers around the turkey, but foot-ball comes in as a very close second. This is the first time for a number of years that our team has played at home on this holi-day, and, as the day was pleasant, an enthusi-astic crowd of 500 people turned out to see us line up against Western Maryland College. This was the best game of the year, at least in one respect —in point of attendance. Western Maryland started the game with a dash, and for the first ten minutes' play held our eleven very nicely. They then lost confi-dence and their playing during the remainder of the game looked to the foot-ballist like the first attempts of a lot of novices, while to the referee it looked like 64 to o. Lawyer, 1900, was, unfortunately, physically unable to be in the game, and his position, quarter-back, was ably filled by Capt. White, whose place at left-half was filled by Burns, 1901. Dale, igoo, did excellent work in kicking ten goals out of eleven. In short each player played his position well. Line up: WESTERN MARYLAND. POSITION. GETTYSBURG.' Stiaugh. Reckford left half-back Burns Johnson left end Fite Joice left tackle Nicholas Little left guard Ott Satlerwight '. center Stifel Warfield right guard Hagerman Baker right tackle Manges Edwards right end Doty Zepp right half back Dale Patton quarter back (Capt.) White Crockett full back Sheely Touchdowns —Dale, 7; Burns, 2; Manges, 1; Hagerman, I-Gials— Dale, 10. Time of halves—25 minutes. Referee— Kuendig Umpire—Murphy. Linesmen—Wolf and Whalen. The feelings of a Gettysburg man, in look-ing over our record in foot-ball for the season which is just now past, can be but those of gratification and pleasure. We have indeed been eminently successful, having won six games out of nine, and to-day stand higher iu the foot-ball world than we have ever stood before. In spite of the fact that we contested with some of the strongest elevens in the coun-try, we have to our credit an even hundred more points than have been scored against us, as is shown by the following: State College, 40—Gettysburg, University of Penn'a, - 32—Gettysburg, F. & M., - 24—Gettysburg, Baltimore City College, o—Gettysburg,' F. &. M., Swarthmore, University of Maryland, Chamb'sbg ex-Col. pl'ys, o- Western Maryland Col., o-o— Gettysburg, 4—Gettysburg, o—Gettysburg, -Gettysburg, -Gettysburg, o. o. o. 50. 10. 12. 6. 58. 64. Totals, 100 200 127 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. Certainly this happy result of a seasons work demonstrates most clearly the value of a coach. We were very fortunate in securing the services of Mr. Best and our success is largely due to his efforts. He did remarkably well iii developing such a team from so many inexperienced players. Koppenhaver, 1900, Stifel, 1900, and Hag-erman, 1901, at left guard, center and right guard respectively formed a center which held like a brick wall against all our opponents. Each member of this trio, averaging 195 pounds of solid muscle, at the beginning of the season was new at at the game, but their de-velopment has been remarkable. They broke through constantly and opened up well for the barks. Ott, '97, Manges, '97, and Nicholas, '98, are the men who efficiently filled the tackle positions. "Pop" Ott is one of our old relia- ' bles and always played an aggressive game. The reputation of Manges as a ground gainer is thoroughly established, while "Nick," be-sides taking ample care of his man and mak-ing gams when called on, kept things lively by his seemingly inexhaustible supply of jokes. Doty, '99, Fite, '98, Young, 1900, and Lou-don, 1901, at the end positions, upheld the orange and blue. Although this is their first year on the team, they played like veterans. Doty, after having been tackled, is fond of shaking the man from him and going on. He is a hard man to down. Eite, besides being a good tackier, is a snappy player and runs well. Young and London each played a steady game and made their presence felt. Lawyer, 1900, as this is his second year at the position, has become quite proficient as a quarter-back. He keeps his wits about him and gets into the interference well. Sheely, '97, made many fine tackles and struck the line hard, besides kicking very cleverly. burns, 1901, Dale, 1900, and White, '97, played at half. The first one mentioned kicks well and runs fast. Dale is adroit at kicking, is a swift runner, a fine tackier and an all around good player. Capt. White seems to be entirely at home in the game. It is quite unnecessary to enumer-ate liis achievements and abilities as a foot-ball player, as he is a heady player, was always in the game, and was a source of encouragement to his men. Perhaps the secret of his ground-gaining, is the fact that he sticks like a leech to his interference. We must not overlook the second team which, under the leadership of Kuendig, '98, turned out so faithfully. Their services were of great value to the first eleven, as they there-by were given sharp, hard practice. The scrub contains many players of promise, among whom are : '98, Kephardt, Tholan, Briner, Kuendig; '99, Herman, Brumbaugh, Trimble, Roehner; 1900, Good, Wisotzki, Brandt, Kohler. As we lose but a very few men, the prospects for next season's team are of the brightest. Our players may now retire from the grid-iron and take merited satisfaction in looking over a season well spent. TOWN AND SEWJINARY NOTES. S. J. MILLER, Editor. TOWN. It seems as if improvement has become the ' adopted watchword of the town. Telephone wires by the dozen have been stretched across the diamond, thus to communicate with all the important neighboring towns in the county. The Water Company has enlarged the water supply by replacing the old pipes with larger ones. Several new and costly buildidgs have been erected, among which is the new school building, known as the Meade High School, and which in all probability will be occupied at the beginning of the New Year. The association of the survivors of the Twenty-first Regiment of Pennsylvania' Cav-alry recently held its seventh annual reunion in this place. About seventy-five members were in attendance. At a business meeting the following officers were elected: President, Major Robert Bell, Adams county; Vice-Pres-ident, Captain E. McMillan, Lancaster; Secre-tary, J. Harvey Cobean. Gettysburg; Treas-urer, Captain Long, Gettysburg. The anniversary exercises of the Women's Bible Society were held on Sunday evening, Nov. 15th, in Christ Lutheran church. Rev. Dr. Huber presided. Prayer was offered by Rev. Dr. Richards, of Gettysburg, and ad-dresses were made by Rev. Dr. Jacobs, of Philadelphia, and Rev. Dr. Morrow, Secretary of the Pennsylvania Bible Society, after which a very creditable report of the society was read by Rev. A. R. Steck, pastor of the St. James Lutheran church, this place. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 128 The semi-annual convention of the Adams County C. E. Union was held in the St. James Lutheran church, this place, on Friday and Saturday, Nov. 20th and 21st. The conven-tion opened on Friday at 2 P. M. The ad-dress of Welcome was delivered by Rev. A. R. Steck and the response was made by Presi-dent Longanecker. The sessions were very interesting and were largely attended through-out the whole convention. Rev. C. H. Rockey, of Shepherdstown, W. Va., preached in Christ Lutheran church on .Sunday, Nov. 22. The Christian Endeavor Society of St. James Lutheran church held their eighth anniversary exercises on Sunday, Nov. 22. In the morn-ing Rev. E. F. Jeffers, D. D., Principal of the York Collegiate Institute, preached the anni-versary sermon. At the evening service Rev. A. R. Steck presided. An excellent program was rendered. Rev. Rockey offered prayer and Rev. Dr. Jeffers delivered the address of the evening, his subject being, "Spiritual Power.'' The old tin roof on the Methodist church has been removed and a slate one put on. The St. James and Christ Lutheran congre-gations held a union Thanksgiving service in St. James Lutheran church on Thursday morn-ing, Nov. 26, at 10 o'clock. Services were also held in the Presbyterian and Reformed churches in the morning. SEMINARY. Rev. J. E. Byers preached at Williamsport, Md., on Sunday, November 1. Rev. J. H. Harmes filled the pulpit of St. John's Lutheran church, Hagerstown, Md., on Sunday, Nov. 8th. Rev.' Paul Koller preached at Hagerstown, Md., Shepherdstown, W. Va., on Nov. 15th and 22nd respectively. Rev. W. H. Feldman was sent as a delegate to attend the Inter-Seminary Missionary Al-liance at Chicago, on Nov. 12- 15th. While there he also had the pleasure of attending the Luther League Convention. The pulpit of the Second Lutheran church, Carlisle, Pa., was filled by Rev. Brady on Sunday, Nov. 22. Rev. M. S. Kump preached in Christ Luth-eran church on Sunday evening, Nov. 29. Prof. J. H. W. Stuckenberg will deliver the following lectures in Brua Chapel, beginning with Monday evening, Dec. 7th: Monday—"The Importance and the Method of of the Deeper Study of the Age." Tuesday—"Characteristics of the Age." Wednesday—"The Dominant Ideas." Thursday—"Social Trend." Friday—The New Social Era." Saturday—"Higher Education in Germany." This is a new course of lectures prepared es-pecially for Gettysburg, and we are indebted to the Seminary students for his coming. FRATERNITY NOTES. PHI KAPPA PSI. A. J. Smith, '83, a Professor of the Univer-sity of Texas, recently suffered the loss of his wife. We were pleased to meet Dr. Philips, Presi-dent of West Chester Normal School, who de-livered a lecture before the Teachers' Institute convened in this city last week. J. C. Bowers, '93, made a business trip here a few days since. W. F. Lutz, '94, is engaged in journalistic work at his home in Bedford. A. C. Carty, '96, attended the New York City rally on Dec. 4th. . PHI GAMMA DELTA. Bro. Jacobs, '62, preached in the College church recently. Bro. Knubel, '93, has started a mission in upper New York City. We wish him success in his undertaking. Bro. Roth, '95, of Bucknell, spent a few days in town recently. We were glad to have with us during the past month Bros. Brewer, '83, Garland, '85, Fickinger, '94. Bros. Fite, '98, and Albers, '99, spent a few days with Bro. Stahler, of Norristown, Pa. Bro. Kolb, 1900, spent Thanksgiving at Mechauicsburg. SIGMA CHI. Bruce Trimmer, Kappa, '98, of Bucknell, made us a visit several weeks ago. Leisenring spent Thanksgiving with his parents at Chambersburg. I2CJ THK COLLEGE MERCURY. Win. Hersh, '92, was elected District At-torney of Adams Co., by the largest majority ever given a candidate. Rosensteel was called to his home in Altoona several weeks ago on account of the death of his grandfather. Edwards, Alpha Psi, Vanderbilt University, played end on the Western Maryland College foot-ball team in the game here on Thanks-giving. Munro and Fredericks were at their homes in Lock Haven over Thanksgiving. Frank Hersh, '92, who was home for several weeks, has returned to his work in Braddock, Pa. Keith, '99, paid a flying visit to the Chapter at Dickinson several days ago. Fredericks stopped at Bucknell on his way home on Thanksgiving, and visited the Chap-ter there. Lawyer spent Thanksgiving at his home in Westminster. PHI DELTA THETA. J. A. Singmaster, '98, was initiated Novem-ber 23d. Kain, '97; Meisenhelder, '97, and Beerits, '99, attended the 24th Biennial Convention of the fraternity held in Philadelphia Nov. 25th to 30th. M. F. Holloway, '84, and A. S. Cook, '95, were also in attendance. Chas. Reinewald, '88, spent a few days in town recently. J. C. Moore, Jr., Pa Zeta, paid the Chapter a visit the beginning of the month. ALPHA TAU OMEGO. Saturday night, Nov. 21, the Chapter held a banquet in the meeting hall, which was pro-nounced by those present to have been a very enjoyable affair. Edward Gaines, a member of the U. of Md. foot-ball team, spent Sunday, Nov. 15, with the Chapter. William O. Nicklas, '93, has been admitted to the Chambersburg bar. William H. Menges, '96, visited the Chapter during Institute. Dr. Franklin Menges, '86, was with us In-stitute week. James P. Michler, '97, is at present a stu-dent at Washington and Lee. SUBJECTS FOR "ROMAN LAW" THESES. ABEL—Spread of the Roman Law Through Barharic Invasions. ARMSTRONG—Marriage and Divorce Among the Romans. HIKLE—Influence of the Laws and Organization of the Roman Empire on the Laws and Organization of the Early Church. CLUTE—The Extent and Limitations of the Patria Potestas. COBLE, Sr.—Slavery Among the Romans. DUCK—The Indebtedness of Modern States to Roman Juris-prudence. FRIDAY—The Roman Law of Succession. HUTTON—Roman Citizenship-Different Kinds, How Acquired and How Lost. Miss KEITH—The Nature and Authority of the Jus Respon-dendi. MILLER—The Functions of the Roman Praetor. Miss SIEBER—The Roman Method of Legal Procedure in a Province as Illustrated by the Trial of Christ in Pal-estine. SMITH—The Roman Judiciary System. WHEELER—The Change from Republic to Empire in Rome, a Change to nu Autocracy. WOLF—Influence of Christianity on Roman Legislation. LITERARY SOCIETIES. JOHN W. OTT, Editor. PHILO. Messrs. Baker and Markel were initiated during the past month. On Friday night, Dec. nth, Philo will render her last special program of the term. The program promises to eclipse all others. PHRENA. Messrs. Gilbert and Hitchner. both of 1900, were elected members last Friday evening. On account of the various interruptions 011 the several past Friday evenings, Phrena will not render.her next special program till next term. EXCHANGES. The MERCURY is at present receiving a very large number of exchanges. We mention some of them as follows: The Lafayette, Ursinus College Bulletin, Bucknell Mirror, F. and M. Weekly, College Folio, Phoenix, Wittenburg, Midland, Mer-cersburg Monthly, Roanoke Collegian, Dela-ware College Review, Dickinsoniau, Monthly and Weekly, Occident, Mielensian, Lutheran Ensign, National Educator, Muhlenberg, Ora-cle, Lutheran Observer, Perkiomen Seminary Bulletin, Free Lance, Susquehanna, Western Maryland College, Augustana Journal, George-town College Journal, The Reflector, The Mountaineer, The Crescent, Orange and White. ADVERTISEMENTS. Yale annually buys $7,000 worth of books for her library. Harvard expends $15,000 for the same purpose. Columbia expends$43,000 in the same way. 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Chambersburg, Hagerstown an I Martinsburg to Winchester, Va., a direct and available route from the North, East and West to Gettysburg, Pa., via. Harrisburg and Carlisle. Through tickets via, I his route on sale at all P. R. R. offices, and baggage checked through to destination. Also, a popular route to the South via. Carlisle. AsK for your tickets via. Cumberland Valley Railroad and Carlisle, Pa. J. F. BOYD, Superintendent. H. A. RIDDLE, Gen. Passenger Agent. ADVERTISEMENTS L M, BUEHLER, SUCOKSSOU TO A. D. BUEHLEK & CO., -HllBoofig st£giS —.A_isr:D— (gO TO ->M0TEL GETTYSBURG* -XBA'RBER SIIOPX-Centre Square. ^^B. M. SEFTON. 2/ou will find a full line of SPure 'Drugs dc J'ine Stationery ^People'a *Druff Store. {Prescriptions a Speci'ctity. Elliott & HOUSGP. H. B.—Stiff Hits mads to Fit the Head is two minutes. (Z>, B. KlTMpLEfJ, HATS, CAPS, —^ ^rr BOOTS* SHOES. CS^3=S=»tisfaiotion GSuara nteed.ii3 No. 6 S. Baltimore Street, GETTYSBURG. 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Issue 53.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1994. ; Christian Heritages and Contempora~ Living ~ JULY-AUGUST 1994 ¯ VOLUME: 5:3 . Nrt~MBER 4 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ Fax: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ° P.O. Box 29260 ¯ Washington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1994 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library client~ within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1994 * VOLUME53 ¯ NUMBER4 contents 486 feature LeadErship a New Way: If Christ Is Growing in Us Janet K. Ruffing RSM proposes that a task of religious leadership is to integrate a personally appropriated Christ mysticism with historical consciousness and liberationist praxis in a way that is consonant with feminine experience. 498 5O7 traditions An Introduction to Orthodox Spirituality Peter J. SanFilippo presents the doctorine of theosis, the deification of the human person, as the heart of the ascetical spirituality of the Orthodox Church. Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen Ovey N. Mohammed SJ compares the praxis of contemplation in yoga and Zen Buddhism with Christian prayer, especially the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius Loyola. 524 The Ignatian Spiritual Exercises and Jesuit Spirituality Frederick E. Crowe SJ presents an understanding of St. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises that distinguishes them from Jesuit spirituality while clarifying their relationship to Jesuit spirituality or any other kind. 534 The Suscipe Revisited Joan Mueller OSF explores various applications of the Ignatian prayer "Take and receive" within the dynamic of the Spiritual Exercises. 544 holiness The Cross Yesterday and Today Robert P. Maloney CM presents a synthesis of the understanding of the cross in the spirituality of Vincent de Paul and Louise de Marillac in the light of contemporary theology. 482 Revieva for Religious 560 568 Fascination with the Holy--and Conversion Annette M. Pelletier IHM postulates a fascination with the holy which justifies religious life and which demands a response of conversion. Merton's Spirituality of Place Wayne Simsic explains the importance of stability of place as an anchor for spiritual growth in the writings of Thomas Merton. 584 prayer and direction The Future of Spiritual Direction Tad Dunne raises eight issues which need to be addressed if spiritual direction is to be an effective ministry in the church. 591 A Vision Revision about Distractions Harold F. Niedzwiecki OFM points out that a way of integrating prayer and our daily routine is to see God in our environment as well as beyond it. 597 6O5 ministry formation Nonviolence and Christian Moral Responsibility Pa~ricia McCarthy CND presents nonviolence as so integral to Jesus' way of life that it takes its place as a part of Christian moral responsibility. Holy Land Pilgrims and Ministry to Them Anne Hennessy CSJ makes some helpful suggestions for Catholic pilgrims to the Holy Land at~d identifies four situations .dxich call for ministry attention. 617 report Santo Domingo Assembly: An LCWR/CMSM Report departments 484 Prisms 622 Canonical Counsel: Religious and Human Promotion 629 Book Reviews a~ly-August 1994 483 prisms L its spring meeting, the Review for Religious Advisory Board raised some concerns that we hope interested writers might explore in future arti-cles. For example, there remains much interest in and rea-son for writing about charism. Besides the fundamental norm of gospel discipleship around Christ, the founders or inspirers of various consecrated lifeforms, their personal history and example, the original rule of life, and the spe-cial founding charism are still the essential sources for contemporary renewal. Often we image the charism spe-cial to each religious foundation as something that we have to recover in its original purity if we are to move forward while being true to ourselves. Yet many religious groups seem to have experienced that a return to such a pristine notion, of a founding charism may not be the most effective road to' renewal. When relig!ous men and women--after, in many instances, arriving in the United States from European foundations--received some of their formation from the needs and ethos of this land, some incarnate charisms began to look quite different from their European form. For example, monastic foundations, especially of women, were so drawn out into educational or other service areas that the actual lived grace (the charism) evident in the members' lives took a different cast. Certain aspects of monastic spirituality were blended into the later spiritu-alities called apostolic. Sometimes the blending was less like a healthy grafting than like two plants sharing the same pot. When Vatican II called for a return to the sources, some North American religious may have been too quick to seek a purity of charism instead of examining 484 Review for Religious the grafting or the twinned growth that distinctly showed life, however poorly understood or oddly proportioned. We would seem to have a good number of religious congregations that might better be described as having a "blended charism" of a couple spiritual traditions rather than the purity of, say, a Benedictine, Franciscan, or Jesuit charism. Perhaps part of the frustration of renewal is a religious group's attempt to identify a charism by its root rather than by its stalk, leaves, and full flowering evident in their lives. We believe that phenomena like.these might be prof-itably explored. Along the same line, articles which briefly explain how our various spiritual heritages respond to contemporary living have great interest for many people. Back in the early fifties, Review for Religious printed six or eight articles of this kind. The time appears ripe for a similar series. Another area that might bear examination is the apparent paralleling of 50- and 60-year-old Catholics being the active, committed parishioners and religious in contrast with the 20-, 30-, and even 40-year-old Catholics being "affiliative" persons (less flatteringly, "supermarket" Catholics and religious) picking and choosing among the prac-tices which incarnate our faith and its counterpart, religious life. We also might want to pursue these questions. Given min-istry's growing professionalization, do we need to examine more carefully the importance of an intimacy in the Christian-ministry relationship in place of "client-centered" imaging? When is incul-turation a surrender to a culture's racist, sexist, or otherwise dis-torted values, and when is it a demonstration of respect for a heritage that is opening itself to Christian values? At our April meeting we welcomed Brother David Werthmann CSSR to the Advisory Board. He has served as novice director for the Redemptorist provinces of the western United States for six years and as a member of the national board for the National Assembly of Religious Brothers (1987-1993). He is now director of Vincent House, an in-home volunteer program serving per-sons living with AIDS in St. Louis, Missouri. He is a contribut-ing author to the recently published book Blessed Ambiguity: Brothers in the Church. Our appreciation and gratitude go with Brother Se~n Sammon FMS, a founding member of the Board, as he begins service as vicar general of the Marist Brothers in Rome. ¯ David L. Fleming sJ .~ly-Aug.ust 1994 485 feature JANET K. RUFFING Leadership a New Way: If Christ Is Growing in Us As Americans we tend to privatize our religious expe-rience. Because we are schooled by our democratic and pluralistic society to conceal from public discourse the compelling religious vision and experiences that motivate us, some leaders of religious communities carry this reti-cence over into their role in community. In addition, some come from ethnic backgrounds which presume a bedrock of faith, but discourage talking about it. Leaders vary in their ability to express in their lives the faith by which they live. On the other hand, the entire purpose and meaning of religious life is to help those called to it to focus their lives totally on God. For apostolic communi-ties this response to G6d's call is accomplished through the love of our neighbor in compassionate service as well as through contemplation and a lifestyle organized to sus-tain this commitment. . Although the religious dimension of leadership is often neglected,, religious life itself is always and only a work of the fiery Spirit that inspires, empowers, and energizes our free response to this grace. The reflections on power and empowerment in the first part of this article show that one gift women religious offer the church in our pres- Janet K. Ruffing RSM is associate professor in spirituality and spiritual direction in the Graduate School of Religion and REligious Education at Fordham University. The first part of this article, "Women, Power, and Authority," appeared in our May- June 1994 issue. Her address is GSRRE, Fordham University; 441 E. Fordham Road; Bronx, New York 10458-5169. 486 "Review for Religious ent transition is the clear movement in many communities toward a communal life shared by equal disciples who are seeking to r~spond to God's leading. This evolution of empowering author-ity in religious life could indeed be a sign of hope to contempo-rary women. If religious life for women is a means for supporting our total transformation so that Christ be formed in us, it will institutionalize itself in ways that genuinely respect and nurture the deepest possibilities of our femi-nine discipleship. Following Caryll Houselander's words, we can say, "If Christ is growing in us,''~ we will be at peace because where we are Christ is. The entire context in which we seek to live this discipleship has changed. It is a time of chaos and new creation. God's. Spirit broods over these waters. Are we paying attention to these move-ments in our midst? Do leader-ship teams spend time reflecting together on what is happening in themselves, in their members, and in the various groups in the community that reveals what God is doing in their midst? How are sisters understanding themselves in the light of their central dedication to God in Christ? How are they being impelled in ministry? What do they describe as impeding or deflecting them from this central core of the religious-life project? What are the resistances of leaders to some new things? What are the group's resistances to or struggles with ongoing conversion? I believe that paying attention to such'questions is important for religious leadership. Leaders, consciously or not, nonverbally express in decisions and actions their operative vision of religious life, their sense of who God is, their Christology, and their atti-tude toward the women they lead. These are all interconnected. If a leader believes she is diminished in her personhood because God wills her to be powerless and dependent on external author-ity, her behavior will conform to that belief. If she believes that authentic discipleship of Jesus requires members to be compli- Leaders nonverbally express in decisions and actions their operative vision of religious life, their sense of who God is, their Christology, and their attitude toward the women they lead. ~uly-August 1994 487 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New IVay ant to all requests, she will attempt to secure such compliance. If she believes the majority of members to be selfish and individ-ualistic in their choices, she will find this amply documented. However, if she expects discipleship of Jesus to lead to creative ini-tiatives, release of energy for mission, resistance to injustice, growth in compassion, and a deeply contemplative gaze at expe- ¯ rience, she will Welcome such creativity and action and notice its contemplative interiority. If leaders are not both conscious and critical of the theology they embody in their leadership style, they will fail to recognize how religious faith is functioning within the dongregation. I believe, and the research bea~s this out, that religious lead-ership is more than being conscious of and setting an example of grass-roots theology. The Nygren-Ukeritis study found not only that outstanding leaders of religious congregations were them-selves firmly grounded in their religious experience, but also that they demonstrated an ability to "find and express., the spiritual significance in everyday affairs." The study found, too, that out-standing leaders of religious congregations put greater reliance on God than other members do; generally the male leaders think of God as a "source of support," and the female leaders, as a "source of direction and energy." Further, the interviews showed that in "the spontaneous recounting of their experiences the out-standing leaders more frequently cite instances of actions consis-tent with the religious theory they would espouse." In the judgment of the researchers, these leaders "communicated a gen-uine awareness of God's presence in their lives" and acted accord-ingly. 2 The study concludes that organizations will survive only if their leaders can articulate the founding purpose in contempo-rary idioms and respond to pressing needs. We are experiencing a profound theological reinterpretation of religious life in the light of rapidly changing circumstances. For numerous reasons entire congregations find considerable dif-ficulty in coalescing around a new vision. While some members are stuck in the old paradigm, others propose only a limited view of the new reality. All of us act on old habits of thought and behav-ior. Leaders are reluctant to quench new initiatives since it is rarely clear which one might be leading to the future. Leaders also resist taking initiatives themselves since they are convinced these initiatives need to come from the group. Much of this can be described as a conflict of interpretations or a conflict of per- 488 Revietv for Religious spectives. The FORUS study recognizes that leaders strongly affect the outcomes of such conflicts. "Leaders can have a strong impact on the outcome of the conflict between perspectives. If they sup-port only one perspective, they are likely to decrease the creativ-ity of the transformational process and the active involvement of members whose perspectives are not taken into account . If they enable conflicting perspectives to interact with each other, they will increase the chances of paradoxical transformations, of new and creative shared understandings that emerge from the interaction of the competing perspectives.''3 It is a function of religious leadership to notice and articulate to the community the religious dimension of experience. This includes the team's view of affairs, but also that of the other mem-bers. If the group is assembled, leadership leads by creating an atmosphere in which conflicting perspectives can meet one another and be modified by the dialogue. If the group is not assembled, leadership needs to reflect the range of perspectives and call the group to respond to a religious vision that can be accommodated within this range. I am describing a form of grass-roots theological reflection in which leaders of communities keep before the consciousness of the group a way of sharing the religious heart of their shared reli-gious life. This is a delicate and important task, not just a form of pious exhortation, It requires careful listening, schooled in expe-rience, for what God is actually doing in the group. What form is discipleship taking? How well is it grounded in Scripture and in a sense of who Jesus is? Members will welcome this discourse if it is objective, respectful, and truthful. If this reality can be spo-ken of in narrative or thematic ways, it can foster into the future a sense of shared life, shared goals, and shared commitments. It can build the theological bridges for understanding one another and for a new form of co(porateness. The First Epistle of Peter describes s.omething of this pro-cess: "Venerate Christ in your hearts. Should anyone ask the rea-son for this hope of yours, be ever ready toreply, but speak gently and respectfully" (1 P 3:15-16). Such accounts of the hope that animates us draw the community together around its most central identity. Far more than they do, leaders need to concern them-selves with helping communities to do such spiritual accounting together if religious life is to move through this transitional and transformative time. j~uly-/lugust 1994 489 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way Christological Models While the FORUS study highlights the singular impor-tance of the faith dimension in religious leadership, it neglects to examine in any significant way the content of faith, specifi-cally our understanding of Jesus. Since the conciliar teaching on religious life emphasized that gospel discipleship is the funda-mental norm for religious life, how we individually and commu-nal! y understand our following of Jesus constitutes the religious heart of our vocation. We live religious life in quite different ways with each new interpretation of our faith in Jesus. To help our reflection on the practical following of Christ in religious life, I propose three models of Christology that are oper-ative in contemporary communities. Although oversimplified, these three models might be described as an ahistorical/mystical model, a historical/liberationist model, and a feminist model.4 The ahistorical/mystical model is the largely monophysite Christology that preceded the council and informed much of the 19th-century spirituality many founders lived. In this Christology the one thing we are absolutely certain about is the divinity of Jesus, hence the term monophysite, meaning one nature. The one divine nature managed to obscure the other half of the Chalcedonian definition, namely, Jesus' human nature. Spiritual writers and meditation books emphasized a one-to-one relation-ship with Jesus. Greater emphasis was placed on the hidden life and the passion than on either the public ministry or the resur-rection. Few Catholics, including religious, actually read or med-itated on the texts of Scripture but rather used devotional manuals. The focus of these meditations was the interior attitudes of Jesus in his humiliation and suffering-=humility, obedience, suffering, patience, love, meekness, and so forth. The follower of Christ was to imitate these virtues in order to achieve holiness and to enter into the mysteries of Jesus. These meditations usually had a strong trinitarian flavor. Since Christ was God, the desired atti-tudes were adoration, reverence, and docility before the Mystery. The meditator was drawn into the Trinity itself through the mys-teries of incarnation and redemption. Frequently, the image of God the Father was rather harsh-- a just God who demanded the blood reparation of his Son for humanity's sin. Apostolic religious life in this model usually meant long hours of devotional prayers, use of a meditation manual, and the imitation of the virtues or inner states of Jesus in common 490 Review for Religious life and in ministry. What mattered was increasing conformation to the Christ mystery through prayer and virtue. Obedience and humility were valued over activity and originality. Obedience to superiors and the rule was equated with obedience to God's will. Just as the understanding of Jesus in this model failed to honor Jesus' human reality as much as his divine reality, so too this kind of Christology often led to a neglect of our own humanity and a loss of a sense of the sacra-mentality of human life. In many communities, women were not respected as individuals with differing gifts, histories, and abilities and were not encouraged to care for them-selves appropriately. Since this form of relationship to the Christ mystery was entirely inte-rior and ahistorical, it did not really matter what we did in our world so long as we did it with the proper interior attitudes. This Christology supports the consecration model of religious life. Consecrated to an intimate relationship with Christ, religious are set apart from mundane secular life by cloister, rule, and garb and seek the one thing necessary, namely, progressive contemplative assimilation to the Christ mystery. Much still remains valid in this Christology, especially the way in which Jesus does lead us into the deeper mystery of the Trinity. To become intimate with Jesus, to participate in his life does cultivate in us an entirely different perspective on reality. We are opened to transcendence; we discover the deepest reality of ourselves in the love which comes to us from the Divine Mystery. We never exhaust the need to penetrate to ever deeper levels of the divine and of our own graced reality. The second model is the historical/liberationist model. As one wave of Christology at the time of the council broke over our consciousness, we began to appreciate more clearly the full humanity of Jesus. As Elizabeth Johnson puts it, "if God became a human being, then it is very important to see what kind of human being God became.''5 This led to a full appreciation not only of Jesus' human experience, but of our own as well. As schol- To become intimate with Jesus, to participate in his life does cultivate in us an entirely different perspective on reality. ~uly-August 1994 491 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way ars recovered more and more of the actual history of Jesus and the movement which he inspired, focus turned to a close examina-tion of his ministry, death, and resurrection. Jesus not only talked about the kingdom of God, but actually made it present in the way he was with people, by what he said and did. He embodied the reality of God in his concrete human history. When we began to contemplate this part of the story, we discovered incredible things. It became apparent that Jesus favored the poor, the marginalized, the outcasts. Women were a primary group among his disciples, and he seemed to enjoy their company. Jesus appreciated embod-ied life and drew most of his parables from nature and from com-mon human experience. The kingdom of God was already in our midst. For apostolic religious life the implications were significant. Much of the four Gospels was about Jesus' ministry--which gave us a clue about how we are to be in ministry. It became apparent that Jesus was killed because of the choices he made and what he said in his ministry. As Jesus expressed it, love is more important than law. The law was made for human benefit, not to oppress people. God's will is for abundant life, fullness of life as John's Gospel puts it; God's primary attribute is compassion rather than judgment. When Jesus was killed for upsetting the religious authorities of his day, God validated his ministry and his teaching by not allowing sin and evil to have the last word, but by raising him from the dead.6 As this reflection on Jesus' lived history continued, liberation theology began to develop among poor and oppressed peoples. Drawing on the choices Jesus made in his ministry to share life with the poor and to offer wholeness and liberation to the oppressed, poor and oppressed Christians added social critique and praxis to Christology. Thus, liberation Christologies begin in the context of the suffering of a particular oppressed group. The process of this reflection is communal. Oppressed people come together to reflect on their situation, to pray, and to seek actions that will change things for the better. These actions become the subject for further reflection. Thus, thought and action are intertwined. Liberation theologies emphasize the social nature of sin and grace by reflecting on how the community experiences them within their social structures. These theologies also consider how God and Christ are present in the community as it struggles for 492 Review for Religious justice. Typically there are three steps to this method. A situa-tion is recognized to be oppressive, is called sinful, and is ana-lyzed for its causes, including the way Christian tradition has contributed to the oppression: Has there been complicity in the church and its preaching? Has Christ been understood in a way that is helpful to the oppressor? In this step, liberation tMology is quite critical of the tradition. In the third step, guided by the experience of the oppressed, Christian tradi-tion is searched for elements that would yield new understanding and a new liberating practice. In liber-ation theology, discipleship always entails a change in praxis--activity on behalf of the kingdom of God, judged to be more a present real-ity than an entirely future one. It is out of this theology that Medellin developed the notion of the preferential option for the poor. Massive injustice is analyzed as social sin and not as God's will. There is a mystical side to this Christology, but it is more a spiri-tuality of a people than of individuals. Faith influences base com-munities as they reflect on the Scriptures, the concrete situation of the poor, and action taken to address it. Frequently, when reli-gious espouse voluntary solidarity with the poor, they discover a new experience of God, experiencing Christ in the poor them-selves. Poor people become the ongoing occasion for conversion. Elizabeth Johnson notes that this. theology is also conflictual. The powers within either church or culture do not like to be chal-lenged. To act and live in solidarity with the poor is to risk cer-tain conflict even as Jesus did in his ministry. In this Christology there is less an imitation of the interior attitudes of Jesus than a willingness to accept the consequences of a liberating praxis. What differentiates solidarity with the poor, in this theological per-spective, from involvement with the poor in the earlier mystical model is concrete social analysis. Rather than simply relieving the poor in a loving way, one joins them in their struggle. Frequently, when religious espouse voluntary solidarity with the poor, they discover a new experience of God, experiencing Christ in the poor themselves. July-August 1994 493 Ruffing ¯ Leadership a New Way In the third model, a feminist Christology, we find similari-ties to the historical/liberation perspective. Feminist theology is liberation theology done from the perspective of women's expe-rience. It draws inspiration from the historical material about Jesus' compassionate healing and liberating treatment of women and a discipleship of equals among the men and women who fol-lowed him in the early community. Women clearly understand that their oppression in all cultures is not willed by God. The same steps of analysis and action and prayer as described above are applied to the situation of women. Feminist theology in first-world countries recognizes the resources in Christology for women's liberation.7 The Jesus tradition is a powerful and important spiritual resource for Christian women in their struggle for full participa-tion and personhood in church and society. Feminist theologians in third-world countries pay attention to the situation of women everywhere. The God Jesus reveals cannot be hostile to the deep-est reality of women; women as well as men are fitting images of this God. Likewise, women disciples of Jesus are images of Christ, are every bit as much "altera Christa" as men are "alter Chrisms." Women recognize their suffering and oppression reconciled, healed, and overcome in the death and resurrection of Jesus fully as much as other oppressed groups. Women in religious communities probably lie along the entire continuum of these three Christologies. For some, their rela-tionship with Jesus is primarily a mystical/interpersonal one that has not been significantly changed by reflection on the actual his-torical situation of Jesus' life. Others have deeply appropriated this historical perspective and have assimilated it to their mysti-cal experience of Jesus. The Jesus they meet in prayer is the embodiment of God's compassion. To be involved with him is to be involved with all who suffer. If the FORUS study is correct in its conclusion that service with the poor is not a fully operative priority in communities, it is because a significant portion of the membership has not made the historical/liberation turn. Religious life is constructed on the dominant understanding of what the following of Christ entails in a given historical period. The larger church--both ordinary parishioners and the hierarchy--is more comfortable with religious doing good work motivated by a mys-tical Christology than it is with a stance of prophetic solidarity based on either a liberationist model or a feminist Christology. 494 Review for Religious Feminist Christologies are arising all over the world because even countries that began to address the structural causes of poverty were doing so from the perspective of men rather than women. As worldwide statistics on women become available, it is clear that in every culture women (with their children) constitute the masses of poor people and suffer additionally purely because of their gender. Religious institutes whose originating charisms focused on women and children can reappropriate those charisms in the contemporary context by adopting some form of Christian feminism.8 This is the development our constitutions and chap-ter statements document, but I suspect that they are not fully internalized because our operative Christologies have not yet caught up with them. Religious life has historically been lived longer from the mystical model, which did not necessarily entail apostolic life. Further, religious life has also been lived by women in contexts determined by masculine consciousness and explained in theologies rooted in masculine experience. As apostolic reli-gious and as women, our challenge is to integrate a personally appropriated Christ mysticism with historical consciousness and liberationist praxis in our postmodern context in a way that is fully consonant with our feminine experience. These are the Christologies that support both a prophetic and a contemplative religious life for women. Conclusion In her theological monograph commissioned by the FORUS study, Elizabeth Johnson points to what she calls a "new experi-ence of God emerging in the context of postmodern conscious-ness." The paradoxical experience so many of us have of presence in absence, the loss of familiar ways of experiencing God, and the emergence of something deeper or different are all of a piece. She asserts that a shift is going on in our understanding of the nature of God revealed to us in Jesus. In this essay I have described some of these changes through a Christological lens. However, these changes in Christology also initiate changes in our experi-ence of God. Johnson describes the features of this new experience this way: If there be a God at all, then this is absolute holy mystery that can never be fathomed. Not literally a male person writ large, the sacred can be pointed to by any created good: .~-uly-/lugust 1994 495 Ruffing * Leadership a New Way male, female, animal, cosmic. This mystery does not dwell in isolation from the world but encompasses it as the Matrix of its being and becoming. God in the world and the world in God--panentheism--describes the mutual relation. Thus related, the Holy One of Blessing is a God of pathos who participates in the suffering of the world in order to trans-form it from within. Divine power is the strength of love, rather than raw, monarchical omnipotence. Passionate for justice and peace and compassionate over pain, Holy Wisdom typically self-reveals in the fragmentary break-throughs of well-being that come about through human partnership with divine purpose. Forever God acts to cre-ate a fresh, new future: liberation is her signature deed. A God like this calls for an ethic of critical compassion. We are impelled so to utter the word of God that the world will be changed and renewed by it. She goes on to describe this experience of divine absence and presence as: an experience of the Spirit of God: radically transcendent, like the wind blowing where it will; and at the same time radically immanent, dwelling at the heart of the world to vivify and renew all things. Empowered by the Spirit in our age, people of faith who treasure the living memory of Jesus seek the hidden God of life (contemplation) and live out the passion of God for the world in need (prophecy).9 Rather than a return to the old securities that would quench the fiery Spirit moving in our midst, we need more profound prayer, more attentive listening to the experience of God break-ing through in our midst, and acting from its liberating energy toward a more just, more contemplative, and more novel future. One of the tasks of religious leadership is to contribute to this new naming of God in ways that unite contemplation and prophecy, compassion and action, women's well-being and that of the earth, nonviolence and conflictual change. This task can-not be accomplished without thinking theologically as well as psychologically, without the courage to articulate one's own core religious experience and that of the community, without a sus-taining hope grounded in God's faithfulness. Whatever the even-tual shape of the next form of religious life, it will both emerge from and disclose this new experience of God. It is the task of religious leaders to tell the new story of the surpassing gift of God's fidelity, love, and emancipating compas-sion. It is the task of leaders to uncover the foundational experi- 496 Review for Religious ence of God in every woman in the community and in every inter-action with one another. Religious leaders must forge a new vocab-ulary of the Spirit's presence that honors everyone's experience of God and also points to the "new experiences" emerging in our times and in many of our members. If religious life clearly man-ifests this profound rootedness in the Holy Mystery, "all will be well and all manner of things will be well.''1° Notes ' Lavinia Byrne, ed., The Hidden Tradition: Women's Spiritual Writings Rediscovered. An Anthology (New York: Crossroad, 1991), p. 23. 2 David Nygren, Miriam Ukeritis, John McClelland, et al., "Religious Leadership Competencies," Review for Religious 52, no. 3 (May-June 1993): 412. 3 Nygren and Ukeritis, "The Religious Life Futures Project: Executive Summary," Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 11. Interpretation theory also suggests a similar process by bringing the pos-sible interpretations together in dialogue, to arbitrate among, and to seek agreement. Paul Ricoeur, Interpretation Theory: Discourse and the Surplus of Meaning (Fort Worth: Texas Christian University Press, 1976), p. 79. 4 For a readable survey of these contemporary changes in Christology see Elizabeth Johnson, Consider Jesus: Waves of Renewal in Christology (New York: Crossroad, 1991). 5 Johnson, Consider Jesus, p. 50. 6 Albert Nolan, Jesus before Christianity (Maryknoll: Orbis, 1992), is still the most accessible form of this insight into Christology. Originally published in 1976, it is being superseded by John Meier's and Dominic Crossan's recent works, A Marginal Jew and The Historical Jesus. 7 See Elizabeth Johnson, She Who Is (New York: Crossroad, 1992) and Consider Jesus, for ample bibliography of feminist theologies. 8 For an example of this process, see Janet Ruffing and Theresa Moser, "An Option for Women?" Way Supplement 74 (Women and Ignatian Spirituality in Dialogue, summer 1992): 89-100. 9 Elizabeth Johnson, "Between the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern Experience of God," Review for Religious 53, no. 1 (January- February 1994): 22 and 23-24. 10 Julian of Norwich, Showings of Divine Love. .)~uly-August 1994 497 PETER J. SANFILIPPO An Introduction to Orthodox Spirituality traditions Editor's Note: Out of respect for his religious heritage, the author retains man and masculine reference when the theological roots of Orthodox faith and the tradi-tional expressions of its writers are being reflected. The Orthodox Church knows no dichotomy between her theology, spirituality, liturgy, use of Scripture, and even her iconography. The church experiences all these as inseparable components in an organic whole, which have as their common matrix a doctrine which stands at the very center of her ecclesial consciousness: theosis, the deification of man (for the inclusive meaning of the term man, see Gn 5:2, RSV) and, with him, of the whole created cosmos. Contemplating the masters of the incarnation, St. Irenaeus of Lyons wrote in the 2nd century that "God became what we are so that we could become what he is." This reached its ultimate conclusion two centuries later in the writings of St. Athanasius the Great, champion of orthodoxy at the anti-Arian Council of Nicaea in A.D. 3 2 5 and later archbishop of Alexandria: God became man so that man could become God/ Father Peter SanFilippo, ordained in 1988, is the founding pastor of St. Stephen the First Martyr parish in Roblin, Manitoba, Canada, where he resides with his wife, Joann, and their four children. He studied theology at St. Vladimir's Orthodox Theological Seminary in New York. His address is P.O. Box 1397; Roblin, Manitoba R0L 1P0; Canada. 498 Review for Religious This is not to be confused with the Buddhist ~oncept of nir-vana, according to which complete union with the Transcendent ends in the annihilation of self. The goal of Buddhist spiritual-ity is sometimes described by means of an analogy in which a man made of sand progresses by stages into the ocean until he disintegrates, entirely swallowed up and ceasing to exist as him-self. In the final analysis, this is a hopelessly pessimistic spiritu-ality, for its aim is not the salvation but the destruction of the human person. On the contrary, the spiritual doctrine of theosis represents a powerful affirmation of the innate goodness of the human person as a whole--in the composite, trinitarian nature of spirit, soul and body--created in the image of God. Theosis neither obliter-ates nor even diminishes anything that belongs to human nature or human personhood: in other words, what I am and who I am. It is rather the eschatological manifestation of the children of God, experienced by degrees as a foretaste in this present life. This raises three points which require elaboration: 1. The Platonizing tendency borrowed by classical Western theology to regard man as a soul created in the image of God, "imprisoned" in a body which it longs to shed, is foreign to Orthodox theology. The inadequacy of this philosophical schema is that only a "part" of man (his soul) is thought to possess the divine image and to be destined for immortality, while the other "part" (his body) is bereft of that image, ultimately valueless and irreversibly mortal. This is not to say that certain writers in the Christian East did not lend prestige to such notions from time to time. But in the end they were condemned as a departure from the church's more holistic scriptural tradition. Orthodox theo-logical anthropology postulates the human person as a harmo-niously ordered, inseparable unity of spirit, soul and body, all of which participate in the image of God, all of which were created for eternal life, and all of which are engaged in the process of theosis. Death and the separation of the soul from the body are unnatural to man as God created him. 2. What is destroyed in the process of theosis is neither humanhood nor personhood, but sin. The patristic heritage of the East, in its assertion of the inherent holiness of all that is authentically human, does not view sin as intrinsic to, but contrary July-August 1994 499 SanFilippo ¯ An Introduction to Orthodox Spirituality to, human nature. Paradoxically, the deification of man reveals most brilliantly all that is genuinely human. 3. Theosis begins and is experienced in this present life, while its full manifestation awaits the resurrection on the last day. Theologians have debated for years whether eschatology is pres-ent or future and have even posited the two as if they were not the same reality. The late Father Georges Florovsky, eminent Orthodox theologian and author, merged the two concepts as they ought to be by coining the phrase "inaugurated eschatology": "Thou hast endowed us [already] with Thy kingdom which is to come" (from the Eucharistic canon of St. John Chrysostom). The deification of man does not add persons to the Holy Trinity so that God ceases to be Trinity and becomes "Multiplicity"! While man is admitted to full participation in divine life, he does not become "worshipable," for God remains eternally immutable in the divine essence. We begin to comprehend the nature of this mystery, if only imperfectly and in images, by bearing in mind St. Athanasius's maxim that the incarnation of God and the deification of man are reciprocal movements. According to the doctrinal formulation of the Council of Chalcedon (A.D. 451) on the incarnation, the divine-human union in the person of the Son was accomplished with neither division nor confusion (or mingling), each of the two natures preserving the fullness of its properties and attributes intact and undiluted. This means that no hybridization or cross-breeding has taken place in the incarnation of Christ, while at the same time the union of the human nature with the divine in his person remains perfect, complete, and uni.mpeded. This sheds some light by analogy on our understanding of theosis. However, a critical distinction must be drawn between the incarnation and deification: God became man by nature, while man becomes God not by nature but solely by participation or by grace. This is why the Scripture refers to Christ as the "only-begotten" (or only "natural") Son of God, and to us as children of God "by adoption." Theosis begins neither at conception nor at birth, for the fall has rendered man incapable of attaining the divine destiny for which he was created. Something more is needed to set him on his 500 Review for Religiot~s way, and that is rebirth in the waters of baptism: "Amen, amen, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God" On 3:5). Baptism in the Orthodox Church, from the elaborate blessingof the water to the actual immersion, unfolds as a liturgical reenactment of creation which effects, not so much the juridical removal of the stain or guilt of original sin, but the total re-creation of the human person: a rebirth in the profoundest sense of the word, a putting off of the old man and putting on of the new, a mystical dying and rising with Christ in order to "walk in newness of life" towards the eter-nal destiny for which we were created. The white robe prescribed in most baptismal rubrics is com-monly taken to symbolize the virtues, or the virtuous life, to which the neophyte has been called, as if Christ had come for no other purpose than to produce well-behaved people. The Orthodox baptismal liturgy contains a rubric of immense importance for our topic, the full significance of which is nearly always over-looked: while the newly baptized is clothed with the white robe, the congregation, choir, or cantor sings: Grant unto me the robe of light, O most merciful Christ our God, who clothest Thyself with light as with a garment! The real meaning of the white robe, and indeed of baptism itself, is that God has come down from heaven and become incar-nate in order to clothe mortal human flesh in his divinity and immortality, the very "garment" in which he himself is "clothed" from all eternity (Ps 104:2). Immediately after the immersion and the putting on of the white robe, the Holy Spirit is conferred on the neophyte in the sacrament of chrismation (confirmation in the West). This is pos-sible because, in the Orthodox East, the administration of chris-mation has always been delegated to the priest and has never required the presence of the bishop (the consecrated chrism is supplied by the bishop, however). Baptism completes in each per-son what was inaugurated in the incarnation: human flesh is made receptive to the descent and .permanent indwelling of the Holy Spirit, received as a gift in chrismation as the firstfruits of deifi-cation and of the world to come. The Orthodox rites of initiation culminate finally in the Eucharist, in which the mystical union between God and man is SanFilippo ¯ An Introduction to Orthodox Spirituality consummated. The Eucharist is the summit of man's Godward ascent in this life, his fullest experience of deification as he becomes one with God, who became one with us, and the most perfect foretaste of the life to come: "Grant that we may more perfectly partake of Thee in the never-ending day of Thy king-dom" (from the prayer after Communion). (The Orthodox Church administers chrismation and Communion even to infants as soon as they are baptized.) The church expects iconographers to undertake their work in an atmosphere of prayer and fasting, together with confession and Communion. There is a cosmic dimension to all we have spoken of here. St. Paul writes that "the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. because the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the glorious liberty of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning in travail together until now" (Rm 8:19-22). In another place he writes that God was pleased "to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven" (Col 1:20). Since the whole created order participated in the fall of man, it likewise awaits and shares in his redemption, being transfigured into the new heaven and the new earth filled with Christ, who makes all things new through the Holy Spirit. In the eucharis-tic canon of the liturgy, immediately pre-ceding the actual consecration of the gifts, the celebrant exclaims, "Thine own of Thine own we offer unto Thee, on behalf of all men and for all things"! Orthodox theology recognizes the intrinsic sacramentality of all things, which was lost however as a consequence of the fall. All things were given by God as an act of loving and life-giving communion with man, and in communing with God man was to have lived forever. But because of the cosmic reper-cussions of the fall, created things were stripped of their capacity to communicate eternal life to man, and he died. The holy mys-teries, or sacraments, are the firstfruits of the redemption of the cosmos, the restoration of creation to its Edenic function, for 502 Review for Religious through ordinary elements--water, oil, bread, wine, and even conjugal union--divine-human communion is reestablished and man lives forever once again. The connection between the sacra-ments and their respective "elements" is not at all extraneous: the sacraments are revelatory of the very nature of things. The restoration of created matter to its primeval theophorous (God-bearing) nature is manifested also in the church's iconog-raphy. The painting of an authentic Orthodok icon (much which is not authentic has crept into the church in recent centuries), unlike the typically Western, humanistic approach to religious art, is never an instance of artistic self-expression, but rather a deliberate act of ascetical self-effacement whereby the iconogra-pher surrenders himself to the promptings of the Spirit. The church expects iconographers to undertake their work in an atmo-sphere of prayer and fasting, together with confession and Communion. What is conveyed through the colors, shapes, and lines of the icon is a mystical Sense of presence, an otherworldly beauty devoid of all carnality, and a window into the transfigured world to come. The person embarking on the spiritual journey towards mys-tical union with God collides immediately with the grim reality of the fall and sin. The primordial triadic unity of man's nature has been torn asunder through his own transgression, creating an immense gulf of alienation on every level of existence: between man and God, man and man, man and the universe, man and his own self. This profound alienation is felt acutely in every sphere of life--whether spiritual, physical, emotional, psychological, social--culminating in the final horrific moment of death, what the existentialist ph!losophers have rightly called the "ultimate absurdity". "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" the Lord cries moments before his own de~ithl Perhaps nowhere are the full tragedy and pathos Of man's condition so poignantly expressed as in the shortest verse of the New Testament: "Jesus wept" (Jn 11:35). The God of the universe sheds human tears at the collective tomb of the human race, whom God had created in his own image for beauty and life, now reduced to a rotting, stink-ing corpse. And to all he issues the vivifying call: "Lazarus, come forth!" Orthodox spirituality lays out practically and concretely for monastic and laypersonalike a single path by which to "come j-~uly-August 1994 503 SanFilippo ¯ An Introduction to Orthodox Spirituality forth" from the "tomb" to the fullness of divine life in communion with God. The principle difference between the two lies solely in the degree of intensity. The path we are speaking of is that of asceticism. The "life in Christ" to which every Christian is called is essentially an ascetical life. There is simply no other kind of Christian life to be found in the Gospels. Asceticism comes from the Greek word meaning athletic training or discipline, implying the complete orientation of one's daily activities towards a single goal. It is neither a system of iuridically meritorious or propitiatory suffering, nor giving up something (usually something trivial) as "my sacrifice for God," nor finally a legislated (and repealable) religious obligation. Asceticism is rather an ontological spiritual necessity for the Christian, whose call it is to d~vest himself of every trace of ego-centrism and become limpidly transparent to Christ, whom he has put on in baptism, with whose Spirit he has been anointed, and on whose body and blood he has been nourished. The ascetic echoes the apostle Paul, "For me to live is Christ." Fundamental to the praxis of ascetical spirituality are prayer and fasting. At the heart of the Orthodox tradition of prayer stands the Jesus prayer: Lord ffesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner. With this the Orthodox ascetic strives to attain, by grace, to a state of "ceaseless prayer" (1 Th 5:17), purifying the chamber of his heart to make it into a fitting temple for the Lord to come and take up his abode. "The kingdom of God is within you." Enormous self-exertion is required at first to repeat the prayer continuously, during times set aside for this purpose and throughout the day's activities, with inner attentiveness. With time the prayer develops a certain cadence and becomes increas-ingly effortless. Finally, under the direct action of grace, the mind descends into the heart and the prayer begins to say itself, as if it had a will and action of its own, and becomes truly ceaseless, even during sleep. Orthodox spiritual writers understand the descent of the mind into the heart to mean the total reintegration of a per-son's inner faculties so that mind and heart become wholly united and focused in prayer. This is effected by grace alone and cannot be self-induced. In contrast to the Western approach to contemplative prayer, the person who practices the Jesus prayer rids his mind strenu-ously of all images, even images of Christ or episodes from his life, for these are inevitably the products of human self-will and imag- 504 Review for Religious ination. The task of the ascetic is to strip himself bare before God so that grace itself can act on him without intermediary. Fasting is the necessary corollary to prayer. This axiom of the spiritual life, widely recognized not only in Eastern Christendom but in non-Christian traditions as well, has van-ished oddly from Western Christian con-sciousness. In his fallen, unspiritual, and carnal state, man has become enslaved to an obses-sive preoccupation with his own needs, desires, comforts, and pleasures. His inner hierarchy, whereby the body is the servant of the spirit-- the two functioning in perfect harmony and complementarity--has been overturned and the spirit has been asphyxiated. Man is largely unconscious of the depth of his self-enslavement. The moral or virtu-ous person whose libido is under control and who lives moderately may even deny in all sin-cerity that he is enslaved at all. Yet every day of his life, his every thought is: "I am hungry. I am thirsty. I am hot. I am cold. I am uncomfortable. I want this. I want that." The deification of the person, inaugurated as we have said through his sacramental incorporation into the body of Christ, remains locked up within him as a dormant potentiality, in a state of suspended animation, so long as he is governed by his bodily impulses. There is question here not of combatting sinful incli-nations only, but of suppressing even normal bodily needs to the bare minimum, enabling a person's innermost spiritual self to move to the fore and flourish in an abundance of life, reasserting in stages its mastery over the flesh. Two heretical and spiritually disastrous tendencies threaten the ascetic. The first is the Pelagian notion that a person can, through his own efforts, achieve sanctity. Only through grace is a person saved, sanctified, deified. Prayer and fasting, combined with fidelity to all the other gospel commands, renders a person progressively more receptive to grace and provides the Holy Spirit with fertile ground in which to work. God and man work together to give birth to the new creation. Expressed in another way, "God does all the work, man does all the sweating." A person's most heroic ascetical efforts are puny and insignificant in comparison to the grace of God, but nevertheless indispensable because God At the heart of the Orthodox tradition of prayer stands the Jesus prayer. July-August 1994 505 SanFilippo ¯ An Introduction to Orthodox Spirituality respects human freedom absolutely and saves no one against his will. The idea of "merits" is entirely foreign to Orthodox theol-ogy and spirituality. The second is a Manichaean hatred of the body. The Orthodox ascetic, knowing that his body is destined for resur-rection on the last day, loves the body but hates "the flesh"--car-nality in all its manifestations. Through fasting the ascetic strikes a blow at the very core of his self-absorption: his need to eat, for food, for survival. "Man does not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God." The ascetic has made this the motto for his life, not through bourgeois modulation, but through evan-gelical radicalism, the "violence" by which "men of violence" take the kingdom "by force." Finally, it is through prayer and fasting that the ascetic lives out his days in anticipation of the eschato-logical parousia, so that he may not be found "eating and drink-ing and making merry" when the Lord returns in glory. "Behold, the Bridegroom comes at midnight," the church sings during the first days of Passion Week, "and blessed is the servant whom he shall find watchful." Fasting.degenerates into a flirtation with the demonic in the absence of humility. Humility is the refusal to let others know one is fasting, or to sit in judgment over those who do not fast, or to believe one is doing anything commendable or praiseworthy by fasting. Asceticism must be grounded in the unshakable conviction of one's utter nothingness before God and man. "Let us enter the season of the Fast with joy," the church sings on the eve of Great Lent. The ascetical Christian is the joy-ful Christian, for he has exchanged the fleeting happiness which comes from the things of this world for the joy and peace which surpass all understanding. 506 Review for Religious OVEY N. MOHAMMED Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen lSican Council II's Declaration on the Relationship of the ~" Church to Non-Christian Religions (Nostra aerate, §2), says that "in Hinduism men [and women] contemplate the divine mys-tery., through ascetical practices or deep meditation" and that Buddhism "teaches a path by which men [and women], in devout and confident spirit, can either reach a state of absolute freedom or attain enlightenment." And Pope John Paul II, speaking on Christian dialogue with Hindus and Buddhists on 21 June 1991, observed that "dialogue with the great religions of Asia recalls for us the universal value of self-discipline, silence, and contem-plation in developing the human person and in opening hearts to God and neighbor." ~ These statements focus, not on doctrines and theology, but on the praxis of contemplation that leads to direct religious experi-ence. They recognize that the dialogue between Christianity and Eastern religions must be of a different kind from that with Judaism and Islam, which centers on theological issues. And indeed, because Hindus and Buddhists emphasize the priority of experience over faith, a dialogue with them may well be impossi-ble without a dialogue on contemplative prayer. However, as the pope's observation seems to concede, the church today is ill prepared to enter into such a dialogue. For though contemplative prayer has enjoyed pride of place in the history of Christian spirituality, since the Reformation it has not Ovey N. Mohammed sJ is professor of systematic theology at Regis College. His address is Regis College; 15 St. Mary Street; Toronto, Ontario; Canada M4Y 2R5. ~ly-dugust 1994 507 Mohammed * Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen been a primary conscious emphasis in the church. The fear that claims to an immediate experience of God would diminish if not challenge the teaching authority of the church, the memory of the havoc that false mysticism had created in the past, and the scientism and rationalism of the 19th century that esteemed con-cepts and ideas rather than ineffable experience have all con-tributed to the church's emphasis on dogmas, duties, and prohibitions rather than on religious experience. Understandably, when by the turn of the century people were more and more reacting against the mere acceptance of dogma and were search-ing for a faith that is living and personal, the church had diffi-culty in meeting this need out of its own spiritual treasury. At this very juncture, yoga and Zen methods of meditation and exercises for entering the contemplative state became known in the West, beginning with the World Parliament of Religions held in Chicago in 1893. Because of the Christian interest in experience over doctrine, many began to turn to Eastern reli-gions for their contemplative education. By the time of the Second Vatican Council, even members of Catholic religious orders were in dialogue with yoga and Zen masters, not to convert them to the Christian religious outlook, but to learn attitudes and exercises which might be helpful to Christians in their own prayer life. The Jesuits were among those in religious orders who engaged in this dialogue on contemplative prayer because the spirituality of Ignatius of Loyola (1491-1556) also offers methods and tech-niques to those in search of a contemplative spirituality. Though much has been written by Jesuits on the dialogue with Zen,2 lit-tle has been written on the dialogue with yoga.3 This article com-pares the techniques of yoga and Zen Buddhism with Christian prayer, especially the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola. The aim is not only better understanding as dialogue demands, but also better ways of giving of the Exercises today, when the prac-tices of yoga and Zen have great appeal. It will be shown, too, that Zen methods of concentration which differ from those of Ignatius can be found in the Christian tradition. Yoga and Ignatius Etymologically, yoga is a Sanskrit word from the rootyuj (to hold fast, to bind together). In Hinduism it designates any asceti-cal technique or method of meditation.4 The rootyuj also governs 508 Review for Religious the Latin iugum, the Frenchjoug, and the English yoke as it appears in Matthew 11:29: "Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me." The word yoga, then, like the word yoke, connotes the need for discipline in the spiritual life.5 The techniques of yoga go back centuries before someone named Patanjali wrote his ~ga Sutras (Aphorisms), sometime between the 2nd century B.C. and the 4th century A.D. Hindus, however, acknowledge this work as the classical text on yoga. It also happens to be the exposition of yoga practices best known to Westerners. For both these reasons, then, we will rely on Patanjali's Yoga Sutras in our comparison of the techniques of yoga with those of the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius.6 According to Patanjali, yoga is a means of controlling the mind and the senses (YS I, 2), and its purpose is to lead one to a suprasensory and extrarational experience of God (YS I, 1). Yoga includes a number of angas (members, elements). They can be regarded as stages through which one must progress if one is to reach one's goal: (i) various forms of abstention from evil-doing (yama), (2) various observances (niyamas), (3) posture (asana), (4) rhythm of respiration (pranayama), (5) withdrawal of the mind from sense objects (pratyahara), (6) concentration (dharana), (7) meditation (dhyana) and (8) enstasis (samadht), a state of consum-mate interiority that is at once stasis and transcendental con-sciousness.( YS II, 29).7 The first member or element (yama) introduces us to the need for purgation in the spiritual life and aims at freeing us from the evils of social sin. It consists of five abstentions: "from harming others, from falsehood, from theft, from incontinence, and from greed" (YS II, 30). These abstentions parallel the last five com-mandments God gave to Moses (Ex 20:13-17): "You shall not kill" (harm), "you shall not commit adultery" (incontinence), "You shall not steal" (theft), "You shall not bear false witness" (false-hood), and "You shall not covet., anything that is your neigh-bor's" (greed). Ignatius, too, introduces us to the purgative way (SE §10) when he states that exercitants should begin the Exercises with a consideration and contemplation of sin (SE §4). And, like Patanjali, he focuses on the social consequences of sin (SE §§45- 71) and on the commandments relating to it (SE §§238-243). Patanjali's second element (niyama) is also purgative, but cen-ters on personal sin. It involves five observances--"purity, con- ~dy-August 1994 509 Mohammed ¯ Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen tentment, mortification, study, and devotion to God" (YS II, 32)-- aimed at suppressing the egoistic tendencies that impede the gen-erous offering of ourselves to God. Ignatius, like Patanjali, expects exercitants to attack the roots of their personal sins by getting to know the slightest disorder in themselves. He expects them to desire "a deep knowledge of [their] sins and a feeling of abhorrence for them; an understand-ing of the disorder of [their] actions, that filled with horror of them, they may amend [their] life and put it in order" (SE §63). Toward this end he advises them to recall the sins of their past life (SE §56) and examine their conscience twice daily (SE §§25-31). Elsewhere he instructs exercitants to enter the Exercises "with magnanimity and generosity," offering God their "entire will and liberty" and the disposition of their person (SE §5). He insists that people "must keep in mind that in all that concerns the spir-itual life [their] progress will be in proportion to [their] surren-der of self-love, and of [their] own will and interests" (SE §189). Patanjali's third element is posture (asana). In the Hindu tra-dition posture refers to two things: the place where one chooses to meditate and the bodily position in which one meditates. The place where one meditates should be free from external distrac-tions. Patanjali does not say that one bodily position is better than another, but he does say that the body should be "firm and relaxed" (YS II, 46). The purpose of maintaining a fixed and com-fortable position is to realize a certain neutrality of the senses so that consciousness is no longer troubled by the presence of the body. The following passage from the Bhagavad Gita illustrates the meaning of posture common among Hindus: Let the athlete of the spirit ever integrate [him]self stand-ing in a place apart, alone, his thoughts and self restrained. . Let him set up for [him]self a steady seat in a clean place. . There let him sit and make his mind a single point; let him restrain the operations of his thought and senses and practice integration., to purify the self. [Remaining] still, let him keep body, head, and neck in a straight line, unmov-ing; let him fix his eye on the tip of his nose, not looking round about him . [There] let him sit., intent on Me. . ; then will he approach that peace., which subsists in Me (6:10-15).8 Ignatius, too, recognizes the need for solitude in meditation, making much of withdrawing from friends and acquaintances and 510 Review for Religious from worldly cares to make the soul more fit to approach and be united with God (SE §20). Like Patanjali he does not claim that any one bodily position is to be preferred during meditation, but he does say that one should find a comfortable position and remain in it (SE §76). He agrees with the Gita that the restraint of the eyes is helpful in meditation (SE §81). The fourth element is rhythmic breathing (pranayama). As Patanjali puts it, "After mastering posture, one must practice con-trol of one's breathing" (YS II, 49). He gave this instruction because our respiration is generally unrhythmic, and unrhythmic breathing can hinder the mind's repose. Moreover, since the mind and the body act and react upon each other, rhythmic breathing can bring calmness and concentration of mind (YS II, 53). Practice is very elaborate, but on the whole it aims at slowing the breath, making the inhalation and exhalation even, and reducing the amount of air required. Ignatius also recognizes the importance of rhythmic breathing as an aid to deepening concentration (SE §258). The fifth element of yoga is pratyahara, that state in which the senses abide within themselves (YS II, 54). V~hen one remains motionless, keeps one's eyes and attention fixed on a single point, and breathes rhythmically, the mind is invaded by fewer distrac-tions and becomes more and more concentrated and unified. According to Patanjali, to test one's ability to concentrate at this stage, one must listen to the positive and negative echoes of one's being; for even with the withdrawal of the senses from exter-nal stimuli, difficulties arise, most of them produced by the sub-conscious. The trouble arising from doubt is the most dangerous of the obstacles that bar the road to concentration. Doubt "may be motivated by greed, anger or self-interest" (YS II, 34); "men-tal illness, lack of enthusiasm, sloth, craving for sense pleasure, false perception . and failure to concentrate" (YS I, 30). These distractions are often accompanied by grief and despondency (YS I, 31). To overcome doubt, Patanjali recommends implanting the contrary thought: "To free from thoughts tl'iat distract one from yoga, thoughts of the opposite kind must be cultivated" (YS II, 33). Ign~itius also says that the senses must be brought under con-trol and turned inward. Like Patanjali he observes that difficulties in concentration at this stage come from the subconscious, because of our +raving for "sensual delights and gratifications" (SE §314), our "inclination to what is low and earthly" (SE §317), or "because we have been tepid, slothful, or negligent in our exercises of piety" .~ly-August 1994 511 Mohammed * Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen (SE §322). Like Patanjali he notes that these distractions are often accompanied by "anxiety, . sadness," and "fallacious reasonings" which disturb the soul (SE §315). To cope with these difficulties, Ignatius says that every effort should be made to plant the contrary thought: "If the soul chance to be inordinately attached or inclined to anything, it is very proper that it rouse itself by the exertion of all its powers to desire the opposite of that to which it is wrongly attached" (SE §16; also §155 and §157). Patanjali's sixth element of yoga is concentration (dharana) to remove distractions (YS I, 32). He defines concentration as the fixing of the mind on a single idea or object by trying to visual-ize it (YS III, 1). Visualization calls for the use of the senses and discursive reasoning to focus the mind and so make the object of concentration present. An Indian image illustrates his point: just as an elephant's trunk sways to and fro and reaches out for nearby objects until it is given an iron ball to hold, so the wavering mind will settle down if given something specific to focus on. Ignatius promotes mental concentration in a similar way, rec-ommending in the first or second prelude of almost every medi-tation that we fix in the mind some scene, real or imagined, and try to make it present by visualizing it (SE §§47, 65, 91,103, 112, 138, 151, 192, 202, 220, and 232). He frequently directs the exercitant not only to see, but also to hear, smell, taste and touch in the imagination what is taking place in the meditation (SE §§66ff, 92, 103, 106, 121ff, 143ff, and 194ff). In pondering the matter and significance of the particular meditation, like Patanjali he expects one to apply one's intellect, will, memory, imagina-tion, and reflective ability (SE ~§3, 77, 78, 130, 206, 209, etc.). As concentration deepens, we arrive at the seventh element of yoga called meditation (dhyana). Meditation sweetens the dryness of intellectual discrimination and calls forth the highest form of love. Patanjali defines it as an "unbroken flow of thought toward the object of concentration" (YS III, 2), in which discursive and notional knowledge begin to give way to an experiential and intu-itive mode of knowing. For Ignatius, too, there is a progressive deepening from the discursive mode of knowing to the nondiscursive and intuitive. As he explains in SE §50, for example, one practices rational reflection on the subject matter so that the will may move the affections to a way of knowing beyond the intellect. That is, a deeper and simpler interiority leads to higher spiritual percep- 512 Review for Religious tions and an experiential knowledge of the truth. That is the aim of all true meditation, for as Ignatius explains, "It is not much knowledge which fills and satisfies the soul, but rather the inte-rior understanding of and relish of the truth" (SE §2). When one has intensified the power of meditation to such an extent that the totality of one's consciousness is indistinguishable from the meaning of the idea or object of one's meditation, one has reached the eighth and final step of yoga, samadbi, which Christians regu-larly refer to as a mystical union with God (YS II, 45; III, 3; III, 11). This mystical union is a state of contempla-tion in which one encounters God directly in an experience that is ineffa-ble- beyond words, beyond thought, beyond all conceiving. For Ignatius, too, meditation should lead to a mystical union with God, who can be found in all things (SE §235); the soul embraces divine things without any intervening agency. He seems to imply that this state of soul is the supreme end of prayer when he refers to a soul find-ing its Creator and Lord in a "consolation without previous cause" (SE §330 and §336). There is "direct" contact; God inflames the soul with "his love and praise" (SE §15; also §20), enabling it to "taste the infinite sweetness of divinity" (SE ~124). Ignatius describes this state of soul in his famous letter to Sister Teresa Rejadell: It frequently happens that our Lord moves and urges the soul to this or that activity. He begins by enlightening the soul; that is to say, by speaking interiorly to it without the din of words, lifting it up wholly to his divine love and our-selves to his meaning without any possibility of resistance on our part, even should we wish to resist.9 Meditation sweetens the dryness of intellectual discrimination and calls forth the highest form of love. The letter's wordless experience ("without the din of words") means that it is an experience "without concepts," "without par-ticular objects of thought."1° In other words, the person who obtains this direct experience of God has an ineffable experience of the divine. Ignatius empha-sizes this point at the end of the letter to Sister Rejadell when he 3~uly-Augus't 1994 513 Mohammed ¯ Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen says: "We have touched on a matter which can hardly be dealt with in a letter, at least without a much longer treatment. Even then there could be matters that could better be felt than put into words, let alone written down in a letter." ~i In his Spiritual Diary he writes that his own mystical experience can be compared only with the speech or music of heaven.~2 As we have seen, the eight elements of yoga given by Patanjali are paralleled in Ignatian spirituality. Let us now bring Zen Buddhism into our discussion, highlighting the techniques of Zen which differ from those of Ignatius but can be found in the Christian tradition. Zen, Yoga, and Ignatius To better understand Zen Buddhism, it may be helpful to know something of its background. Siddhartha Gautama (563- 483 B.C.) was an Indian prince who lived in what is now Nepal. Finding that religious truth based on the authority of others was at best a secondhand truth that can be called into question by competing truth claims, he renounced his kingdom to find through direct religious experience a way of salvation that is beyond words and creeds. One day while meditating near Caya, which is south of the present city of Patna, he received enlight-enment and became the Buddha, the Awakened One. Having found what he was seeking, out of compassion he spent the rest of his life teaching others how they, too, could find the truth first-hand. His teaching spread widely through two schools of thought: Theravada, which favored withdrawing into a monastery to pur-sue the path, and Mahayana, which maintained that the path to enlightenment is as applicable in the world as in the monastery. Zen Buddhism belongs to the Mahayana school of Buddhism found in Japan. In fact, the very word Zen is the Japanese coun-terpart of the Chinese word ch'an, which in turn is a translitera-tion of the Sanskrit word dhyan.a, meaning the meditation that leads to enlightenment. Thus the roots of Zen reach back into yoga, with its discipline of mind and body and its practice of med-itation. 13 The Zen Buddhist method of finding enlightenment can be found in a concise r~sum~ as given by Siddhartha himself: "Do not what is evil. Do what is good. Keep the mind pure. This is the teaching of Buddha." 14 514 Review for Religious The first step of Zen, "Do not what is evil," centers on social sin and corresponds to the first element of yoga given by Patanjali and found also in Ignatius. Avoiding evil is spelled out in the Five Buddhist Precepts (Pancha Sila) in terms of five abstentions: from killing, stealing, lying, illicit sex, and intoxicants. These absten-tions remind us of the Old Testament commandments and empha-size that the climb to enlightenment begins with purgation.'s The second step of Zen, "Do what is good," centers on char-ity and also parallels the second step of Patanjali and Ignatius. In the Buddhist tradition, doing what is good may be described as the practice of brotherhood in thought, word, and deed or compared to the love and good works of St. Paul (1 Co 13:4-7). It is a personal attitude and is purgative, too, inasmuch charity calls for detach-ment in the generous offering of oneself for the good of others. The third injunction, "Keep the mind pure"--or, in less poetic imagery, to discipline and purify the mind--again shows the influ-ence of yoga. Stages three to five in Zen parallel stages three to five in Patanjali (posture, breathing, and withdrawal of the senses), though there are differences in details. Stages six to eight (con-centration, meditation, and enlightenment) are so closely related that they form a unity, but in our discussion they will be treated separately, as in our comparison of Ignatius and Patanjali. Buddha's third injunction recalls one of the beatitudes of Jesus, "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God" (Mt 5:8). Doubtless, St. Paul had some discipline in mind when he said, "Be transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Rm 12:2), and exhorted us to train ourselves in godliness (1 Tm 4:7). More con-cretely, Zen's third element, like Patanjali's, is posture and refers to the place where one chooses to meditate as well as to the bod-ily position in which one meditates. With respect to the place, one should select a quiet spot in which to sit. But with respect to the position of the body, one is not allowed--as in Patanjali and Ignatius--to experiment to find a position that is stable and relaxed. One should normally meditate while sitting. And whether one sits in the full-lotus position or the half-lotus, or on one's heels and calves, or on a chair, one should satisfy at least three requirements: keep the head and spine erect; lower one's gaze to a point a yard or so away without focusing on anything in par-ticular; and fold one's hands, thumbs and first fingers pressed tightly together, and res~ them on the lap. In Zen experience these requirements facilitate the unification of the mind.~6 Mohammed * Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen The Bible recognizes the importance of place and posture in prayer. In the Old Testament God takes Hosea into solitude to hedge up all the ways he used to run after the desires and thoughts of the world (Ho 2:6). Moses retires to the wilderness to better commune with God (Ex 18:5, 19; 34:27-28), as does Elijah (1 K 17:3-6), and Ezekiel lies on his side for a long time (Ezk 4:4-5:1). In the New Testament, too, Paul (Ga 1:17), John the Baptist (Mt 3:1-6) and Jesus himself (Mt 4:1-2) go into the desert to be alone. Contemplative prayer, has to be inward, and this calls for disci-pline. Hence the advice of Jesus to his disciples: When you pray, go into a room by yore:self, shut the door, sit, and then pray to your Father in private (Mt 6:6). The fourth lesson is breathing, but not in the controlled form prescribed by Patanjali. Rather, when one has established oneself in a stable sitting position, one should take a deep breath, hold it momentarily, and then exhale through the nose slowly and quietly. After doing this two or three times, one should breathe natu-rally. 17 The fifth element of Zen deals with the mind abiding within itself and with the distractions that come from within (makyo). It corresponds to Patanjali's fifth element of yoga (pratyabara). Motionless, with head and spine erect and eyes lowered, breath-ing naturally, one begi~ns to experience a certain detachment from the world, but thoughts, memories, feelings may bubble up to the surface of the mind from the subconscious)8 These obstacles to concentration are due to doubt, sense desire, sloth, and tor-por and are often accompanied by excitedness and worry.19 Unlike Pataniali and Ignatius, who suggest implanting a contrary thought to eliminate these distractions (makyo), Zen teaches that one should merely ignore them. The Bible acknowledges the need to cope with distractions in prayer so that only the still small voice of God is heard, soft and light as an exhalation (1 K 19:12). The sixth element of Zen is concentration. Because the human mind cannot rest inactive, it has to be prevented from dispersing itself among a multiplicity of thoughts and memories by being provided with some inner task to satisfy its need for activity. The task can be to focus on fi chosen topic or idea by means of images or discursive reasoning, as we saw in Patanjali and Ignatius. But even Patanjali and Ignatius recognize that this is not the only way of achieving one-pointed concentration. Another way recalls the saying of Matthew 6:7 that in praying we should not heap up 516 Review for Religious empty phrases, thinking that we will be heard for our many words. This other way, by contrast, consists in only one word or one short phrase repeated over and over attentively. To still the mind by thus restricting one's rational consciousness has a long history in both Eastern and Christian spirituality and is the method taught by the Hare Krishna and Transcendental Meditation movements. Patanjali, echoing Proverbs 18: i 0 that "The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runs into it and is safe," teaches that the attentive repetition of the name of God, like the use of images and discursive reasoning, can lead one into the intuitive consciousness of meditation in stage seven (YS I, 28). And Ignatius teaches, in his second and third methods of prayer, that the rep-etition of a single word or phrase, coordinated with one's breath-ing, can deepen concentration (SE §252 and §258). A 14th-century Catholic mystic explains this method of concentration in The Cloud of Unknowing: If you want to gather all your desire into one simple word that the mind can easily retain, choose a short word rather than a long one. A one-syllable word such as "God" or "love" is best. But choose one that is meaningful to you. Then fix it in your mind so that it will remain there come what may . Use it to beat upon the cloud of darkness above you and subdue all distractions, consigning them to the cloud of forgetting beneath you. Should some thought go on annoying you, demanding to know what you are doing, answer it with this word alone. If your mind begins to intellectualize over the meaning and connotations of this little word, remind yourself that its value lies in its sim-plicity. Do this and I assure you that these thoughts will vanish. Why? Because you have refused to develop them with arguing.2° In the history of Christian spirituality, John Cassian (360?-432?) was the first person to describe this practice of rep-etition, which he learned from the desertfathers. He does so in chapter i0 of his Tenth Conference, one of the most beautiful passages in Christian writing, using this verse: "Come to my help, 0 God; Lord, hurry to my rescue" (Ps 69:2).2~ John Climacus (579-649) attaches particular importance to the repetition of the Jesus Prayer.22 Later on, the standard form of this prayer, "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me," was widely prac-ticed in the monasteries of Mount Athos. This prayer, combined with respiratory discipline and bodily posture as a preparation j~uly-Aug.ust 1994 517 Mohammed ¯ Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen for entrance into meditation (techniques similar to those found in yoga), became the soul of the Hesychast movement in the 13th century23 and in recent centuries has spread widely among the Orthodox churches, whence comes that little gem of a book The VVay of a Pilgrim.24 A similar method of deepening concentration appears both in the repetition of the Hail Mary in the rosary and in Gregorian chants. In all these examples from Hinduism and Christianity, repetition is a way of restricting reflective consciousness. It is a kind of weapon for warding off discursive reasoning, thinking, and conceptualization. It narrows the horizon of rational con-sciousness and prepares the mind for a breakthrough into intuitive consciousness in stage seven. While Patanjali and some Christian writers teach a method for developing concentration that avoids a multiplicity of words, so concerned is Zen with the limitations of words and ideas that it makes transcending them the central point of its method. The two principal schools of Zen, the Soto and the Rinzai, teach meth-ods of concentration that try to get one unhooked from words and thoughts from the very start. The Soto school proposes con-centration on one's breath, inhalation and exhalation, instead of on any words, while the Rinzai school makes use of a koan (a puz-zle or paradox) to put pressure on the mind until the structures of ordinary thinking collapse completely, clearing the way for one's entrance into intuitive consciousness in stage seven and for the sudden flash of insight or enlightenment in stage eight.25 The koan functions in a manner not unlike the sayings of Jesus that oblige one to reach for insight beyond the normal conventions of thought: "Those who find their life will lose it" (Mt 10:39) and "Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit" (Jn 12:24). Ignatius does not mention either of these methods (Soto and Rinzai) among his prayer suggestions. The Zen distrust of words as keys to concentration reminds us that the prohibition of images of God enjoined at Mount Sinai (Ex 20:1-5 and Dt 5:8-9) goes well beyond images engraved on stone or wood to include our words and concepts. Since no one has ever seen God (Ex 33:17-23; Jn 1 : 18), God is a mystery and so unknowable. Isaiah's confession of God's hiddenness implies that God lies beyond the range of the intellect (Is 45:15). Paul makes the same point when he says that God dwells in "unap- 518 Review for Religious proachable light" (1 Tm 6:16) and when he tells us that any expe-rience of God surpasses all understanding (Ph 4:7). For Paul, to be morbidly concerned over mere verbal questions and quibbles leads us to lose our grasp of the truth (i Tm 6:5). He and Jeremiah go as far as to say that clinging to images of God is an impediment to finding the living God and is a form of idolatry (Rm 1:23; Jr 2:11). The Zen attitude to words reminds us that not everyone who says "Lord, Lord" shall enter the kingdom (Mr 7:21-23) and that, to encounter God, we must be still and let God be God (Ps 46:10). Many Christian mystics teach a wordless nondiscursive path to God that resembles the teaching of Zen. For example, Dionysius in the early 6th cen-tury says that "as you look for a sight of mysterious things," you "must leave behind you every-thing perceived and understood" and "strive upward as much as you can toward union with him who is beyond being and knowl-edge.'' 26 In the 14th century the anonymous author of The Book of Privy Counselling gives this advice to his disciples: "When you go apart to be alone., reject all thoughts, be they good or be they evil.''27 The French Jesuit Jean-Pierre de Caussade (1675-1751) writes that we should pray "with a simple gaze., without using any reasoning" and "pay no attention to distractions.'2s John of the Cross (i 542-1591) advocates the abandonment of thinking in order to make way for intuitive consciousness in stage seven when he observes: "The attitude necessary., is to pay no attention to discursive meditation." All that is required is to liberate oneself "from the impediment and fatigue of ideas and thoughts and care not about thinking," for "desires disquiet the soul and distract it from the peaceful quiet and sweet idleness of the contemplation which is being communicated to it.''29 The Benedictine historian and exegete John Chapman (1865-1933) considers the spiritual-ity of John of the Cross to be Buddhistic;3° the Cistercian Thomas Merton (1915-1968) believes that "Zen is nothing but John of the Cross without the Christian vocabulary.''31 Many Christian mystics teach a wordless nondiscursive path to God that resembles the teaching of Zen. July-August 1994 519 Mohammed ¯ Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen The sudden coming of enlightenment at stage eight in Zen has many parallels in Christian spirituality: "The Lord spoke sud-denly to Moses" (Nb 12:4), and on the road to Damascus "sud-denly a great light shone about [Saul]" (Ac 22:6). The enlightenment experience, whenever it appears, is ineffable. When Jeremiah encounters God directly, he does not know how to speak (Jr 1:6). When Paul is "caught up into Paradise," he is unable to say what happened to him (2 Co 12:3). St. Thomas Aquinas, fol-lowing the Zen dictum that those who know do not tell and those who tell do not know, chooses to say nothing except that his enlightenment leaves the Summa Theologiae looking like so much straw. Enlightenment brings joy and a feeling of oneness with all things and a heightened sense of reality. It is an experience not unlike that which Ignatius had on the bank of the Cardoner: As he sat there the eyes of his understanding were opened, and though he saw no vision he understood and perceived many things, numerous spiritual things as well as matters touching on faith and learning, and this was with an eluci-dation so bright that all these things seemed new to him. He cannot expound in detail what he then understood, for they were many things, but he can state that he received such a lucidity in understanding that during the course of his entire life--now having passed his sixty-second year--if he were to gather all the helps he received from God and everything he knew and add them together, he does not think that they would add up to all that he received on that one occasion.32 Seeing reality more clearly and the cosmic feeling that all created things are bound up together belongs to the very essence of Ignatian mysticism, as it does to Zen. This accounts for the cry of the soul expressed early in the Exercises: "The heavens, sun, moon, stars, and the elements; the fruits, birds, fishes, and other animals--why have they all been at my service?" (SE ~60), and accounts as well for the Contemplation to Attain the Love of God at the end (SE §§230-237). Personal Prayer and Interreligious Dialogue Our study has shown that Patanjali, Ignatius, and Buddha all agree that, for religion to be personally authentic, it must involve some direct religious experience and not be merely an affirmation of propositions accepted on the basis of authority--a teaching 520 Review for Religious that seems to be alluded to in the Epistle of James. Moreover, in spite of certain denials, all three make it clear that a personal, direct experience of the ground of one's salvation requires some kind of prior discipline to establish oneself in silence, not just physical silence but a silence of the senses, a silence of the mind, until that silence is reached for which there is no word. Contemplative prayer is the usual name for such a discipline. There are at least eight elements in the praxis of contemplation, and these elements are common to yoga, Ignatius, and Zen. Elements three and four (posture and breathing) in all three spir-itualities insist that contemplative prayer is not exclusively a men-tal or inner activity, but is accomplished in unison with the body, though Zen emphasizes posture more than yoga and Ignatius do and yoga places more stress on breathing than either Zen or Ignatius. In element six, both Patanjali and Ignatius teach a dis-cursive method for deepening concentration, based on the use of images and reason, and a nondiscursive method, based on the repetition of a word or short phrase. Zen teaches only a nondis-cursive method aimed at emptying the mind of all thoughts and images. Patanjali acknowledges that the Zen method of concen-tration can lead one into intuitive consciousness, as do many Christian mystics, though Ignatius makes no mention of it. If today Zen and Hindu meditation movements, like Transcendental Meditation, have a wide appeal among Westerners, it is in large part due to the fact that they teach nondiscursive techniques for entering contemplation. This is a significant point, not only for the dialogue between Ignatian spirituality and Eastern religions, but also--inasmuch as many Christians ignore the contribution of the body to prayer and many others are disaffected with discur-sive prayer--for the directing of Ignatian retreats. Notes ~ "Address to the Staff Members of the World Council of Churches Sub-Unit and the Pontifical Council for Interreligious Dialogue," in The Bulletin of the Pontificium Consilium pro Dialogo inter Religiones 78 (1991): 26/3,307-308. z For example, Heinrich Dumoulin, A History of Zen Buddhism (Boston: Beacon Press, 1969) and Christianity Meets Buddhism (La Salle, Illinois: Open Court Publishing Company, 1974); H.M. Enomiya-Lassalle, Zen Meditation for Christians (La Salle, Illinois: Open Court Publishing Company, 1974) and Zen--VVay to Enlightenment (London: Sheed and Ward, 1976); J.K. Kadowaki, Zen and the Bible (London: Routledge and d71~ly-August 1994 521 Mohammed ¯ Yoga, Christian Prayer, and Zen Kegan Paul, 1980); Daniel J. O'Hanlon, "Zen and the Spiritual Exercises: A Dialogue between Faiths," Theological Studies 39, no. 4 (December 1978): 737-768; William Johnston, The Still Point (New York: Fordham University Press, 1970), The Inner Eye of Love (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1978), Silent Music (New York: Harper and Row, 1974), and Christian Zen (New York: Harper and Row, 1971). 3 O-bey N. Mohammed, "Ignatian Spirituality and the Bhagavad Gita," Thought 62, no. 247 (December 1987): 423-434. 4 Mircea Eliade, Yoga (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1971), p. 4. s Dom Aelred Graham, Zen Catholicism (New York: Harcourt, Brace and World, 1963), p. 123. 6 For references to the I~ga Sutras, see Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood, trans., How to Know God: The Yoga Aphorisms of Patanjali (New York: New American Library, 1953), or I.K. Taimni, The Science of Yoga: The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali (Wheaton, Illinois: Theosophical Publishing House, 1975). Hereafter all references to the Yoga Sutras are indicated as YS. For references to the Spiritual Exercises, see Louis J. Puhl, trans., The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1951). Hereafter all references to the Spiritual Exercises are indicated as SE. 7 Eliade, pp. 48-49. 8 R.C. Zaehner, trans., The Bhagavad Gita (London: Oxford University Press, 1973). 9 Letters of St. Ignatius of Loyola, trans. William J. Young (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1959), p. 22. ~0 Karl Rahner, The Dynamic Element in the Church (Montreal: Palm Publishers, 1964), p. 153. ~ Letters, p. 23. ~2 The Spiritual Diary of St. Ignatius of Loyola, trans. William J. Young (Woodstock: Woodstock College Press, 1958), p. 44. ~3 For material on Zen written by non-Jesuits, see C.H. Hambrick, "Zen Buddhism," in The Encyclopedic Dictionary of Religion (Washington, D.C.: Corpus Publications, 1979); Alan W. Watts, The Way of Zen (New York: Vintage, 1957); Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind (New York: Weatherhill, 1970); D.T. Suzuki, An Introduction to Zen Buddhism (London: Arrow Books, 1959) and Essays in Zen Buddhism. First Series. (London: Rider and Company, 1970); Christian Humphreys, Zen Buddhism (London: Unwin Books, 1971); Thomas Merton, Mystics and Zen Masters (New York: Dell Publications, 1967) and Zen and the Birds of Appetite (New York: New Directions, 1968); Philip Kapleau, The Three Pillars of Zen (Boston: Beacon Press, 1967); Graham, Zen Catholicism (see note 5). ,4 The Dhammapada, trans. Juan Mascaro (Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin Books, 1973), verse 183. 522 Review for Religious ~s Christian Humphreys, Buddhism (Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin Books, 1975), pp. 111-115. ,6 On posture see Johnston, Christian Zen, pp. 105-109; Enomiya- Lassalle, Zen--Way to Enlightenment, pp. 103-109; Kapleau, pp. 18-20, 30-31, 34, 317-320. 17 On breathing see Enomiya-Lassalle, Zen--Way to Enlightenment, pp. 109-110; Johnston, Christian Zen, pp. 77-80; Kapleau, p. 32. 18 On makyo see Kapleau, pp. 38-41, 100-102; Johnston, The Still Point, pp. 9-10, 36. 19 Edward Conze, ed., Buddhist Scriptures (Harmondsworth, Middlesex: Penguin Books, 1971), p. 246, "Hindrances." 20 William Johnston, trans., The Cloud of Unknowing and The Book of Privy Counselling (New York: Image Books, 1973), p. 56. 21 John Cassian, Conferences, trans. Colm Luibheid (New York: Paulist Press, 1985), pp. 132-140. 22 John Climacus, The Ladder of Divine Ascent, trans. Colm Luibheid and Norman Russell (New York: Paulist Press, 1982), pp. 45-47. 23 Eliade, pp. 63-65; Gaspar M. Koelman, Patanjala Yoga (Poona: Papal Athenaeum, 1970), pp. 195-196; J.-M. Dfichanet, Christian Yoga (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1960), pp. 173-183. 24 Translated by Helen Bacovin (Garden City: Image Books, 1978). 25 Dumoulin, A History of Zen Buddhism, pp. 135-13 6; Shunryu Suzuki, p. 33. 26 Pseudo-Dionysius, "The Mystical Theology," I, I, in The Complete Works of Pseudo-Dionysius, trans. Colin Luibheid (New York: Paulist Press, 1987), p. 135. 27 Johnston, The Cloud of Unknowing and The Book of Privy Counselling, p. 149. 28 The Spiritual Letters of P.J. de Caussade on the Practice of Self- Abandonment to Divine Providence, trans. Mgar Thorold (London: Burns, Oates and Washbourne, 1948), p. 39. 29 John of the Cross, "The Dark Night of the Soul," I:10, 4, in Selected Writings, ed. Kieran Kavanaugh OCD (New York: Paulist Press, 1987), pp. 185-186. 3°John Chapman, Spiritual Letters (London: Sheed and Ward, 1989), p. 269. 31 Thomas Merton, Springs of Contemplation: A Retreat at the Abbey of Gethsemani, ed. Jane Marie Richardson (New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 1992), p. 177. 32 Joseph N. Tylenda, trans., A Pilgrim's Journey: The Autobiography of Ignatius of Loyola (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1985), pp. 38-39. July-August 1994 523 FREDERICK E. CROWE The Ignatian Exercises and Jesuit Spirituality Tere is a tendency, noted more in passing remarks than in ematic studies, to equate Jesuit spirituality with the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola. I do not know whether anyone has ever made the equation in so many words, but one hears it said that the Exercises are the wellspring of Jesuit life, that Jesuit spirituality is to be found above all in the Exercises, that the Exercises are the basis of Jesuit spirituality, that Jesuits have a vision given them by the Exercises, and so on. There is a profound truth in all these statements, but just because the truth in them is so very profound and so very true, it seems to me all the more necessary to state explicitly that it is not the whole truth and to think out clearly the relationship of the Exercises to Jesuit, and any other, spirituality. Otherwise part of the truth is easily taken to be the whole truth, and so we come imper-ceptibly to identify two distinct elements in Jesuit spirituality: the Exercises, and the complex history that culminated in Ignatius's Constitutions for the Society of Jesus. Then, since innocently defi-cient ideas still have consequences, we arrive at two practical errors: pointing the Exercises toward a spirituality they do not intend and depriving Jesuit spirituality of its specific character, as found most notably in the Constitutions. Frederick E. Crowe SJ is well known for his books and articles on the thought of Bernard Lonergan SJ. He may be addressed at Lonergan Research Institute; 10 St. Mary Street, Suite 500; Toronto, Ontario M4Y 1P9; Canada. 524 Review for Religious Two simple lines of reasoning should, it seems to me, estab-lish the point I am making. The first is a thought experiment that makes the case in a more graphic way than my abstract assertion. Let us imagine two men with the proper dispositions who both make the Spiritual Exercises. One of them emerges from the thirty days with a decision to seek admission to the Jesuits. The other emerges with a decision to join the Carthusians. Is this an impos-sible scenario? Will anyone tell the Holy Spirit, "You cannot do that; the Exercises are identified with Jesuit spirituality; you really cannot use them to direct someone to the Carthusians"? Or would anyone say that the Carthusian vocation here is due to a failure of the exercitant to be guided by the Spirit, that the Spirit was directing him elsewhere, that he is in fact a Jesuit manque? I mean this, of course, as a reductio ad absurdum, for no one would dream of tak-ing such a position on what the Holy Spirit should or should not do, or of attributing a failure to respond properly if the exerci-tant does not decide to be a Jesuit. And a parallel statement could be made about two women emerging from their Ignatian retreat, one to become a Poor Clare, the other to become a social worker; or about a man and woman emerging with plans for matrimony. My other line of reasoning takes us to actual history. We might ask: What were the first companions of Ignatius doing in the years that followed their experience of making the Exercises, say between 1534 and 1540, a period in which they were steadily seeking the divine will? Why, if the Exercises had already deter-mined what the Jesuit spirituality and way of proceeding was to be, did they run through so many different options before they set-tled on that way? What, indeed, was Ignatius himself doing for nearly two decades after Manresa, wandering around Europe and the Holy Land before he found his destined way of life? And a still more pointed question: What was he doing in the dozen years of "blood, toil, tears, and sweat," during which he laboriously worked out the Jesuit Constitutions? The answer seems obvious in all these questions: Ignatius and his first companions were seeking some-thing the Exercises had not given them. Will anyone tell the Holy Spirit, "You really cannot use the Ignatian Exercises to direct someone to the Carthusians" ? July-August 1994 525 Crowe ¯ The Ignatian Exercises and yesuit Spirituality I believe that we need to face these questions and work out with all possible accuracy what role the Exercises may play in Jesuit or any other spirituality' and how that role may be complemented by the distinct and specifying roles that different spiritual tradi-tions may contribute--for Jesuits, in the way their Constitutions, above all, determine for them; for Carthusians, Poor Clares, and other religious institutes, in ways that they also have worked out for themselves and that I need not try to determine for them here. Is there then a spirituality in the Exercises? Yes, indeed, the very highest. If we leave aside the case of those who are not dis-posed to go beyond the First Week (§18),2 the aim of the Exercises is to bring exercitants, whatever their state in life is to be and wherever God will direct them, to choose to live under the stan-dard of Christ: "We shall also think about how we ought to dis-pose ourselves in order to come to perfection in whatsoever state or way of life God our Lord may grant us to elect" (~135)3- which means embracing the way of Christ, in the highest poverty, spiritual poverty certainly and if God wills it in actual poverty as well; in willingness also to bear opprobrium and injuries in order to imitate him the better (§147); and again, when God is served equally by either of the two alternatives, to choose poverty with Christ poor rather than riches, opprobrium with Christ covered with opprobrium rather than honors, to be counted vain and stupid with Christ so counted rather than wise and prudent in this world (§167); and so forth. The real question is: How does this spirituality relate to the various specific spiritualities to which various individual exercitants may be called? I will suggest a few ways of conceiving the relation, ways that follow more traditional lines of thought and shed some light on the matter, none of them quite satisfactory, but each adding an element of understanding. And then I will propose another approach to the whole question. The obvious pair of terms to define the relationship in ques-tion is generic and specific: the Exercises have a generic spiritual-ity, the following of Christ; then, giving more determinate content to this, we have the specific spiritualities of Jesuit, Carthusian, and so on. I have drawn on these concepts already to start dis-cussion; they contribute some clarity, but they use the language of logic, which seems simply inadequate for so spiritual a question. Another useful set of terms would be infrastructure and super-structure. To follow Christ is infrastructure for whatever way of life 526 Review for Religious we choose to follow; on this basis one builds a superstructure of, say, the Jesuit way of proceeding. These terms from the world of civil engineering clarify our question rather nicely. Still, they make the following of Christ the invisible element, or at any rate not the focus of attention--a situation that does not correspond to any voca-tion emerging from the Exercises. A third set might be the concepts of the compact and the differentiated that have now come into general use, mainly, I believe, through the influ-ence of Eric Voegelin. Bernard Lonergan also has some helpful pages on the process from the compactness of the symbol, where very profound truths may be contained and grasped, to the enucleated and analyzed differ-entiations of scientists, philosophers, and theologians. He illustrates the process by Christology and the "tran-sition from a more compact symbolic consciousness expressed in the New Testament to a more enucleated theo-logical consciousness expressed in the great Greek councils.''4 Once again we have a pair of terms that provide some understanding--certainly the various spiritualities are differentiated from one another (one has only to adduce again the example of Carthusian and jesuit)- but do they also contain the unwelcome hint that the various dif-ferentiations divide up something that the compact contained in its wholeness? A fourth pair, made familiar in social studies, is the communal or collective and the particular or individual. Our communal spiri-tuality is the way of Christ; our individual spirituality is the par-ticular way of life in which we follow Christ. This seems a promising line of thought, but working out the relation between the communal and the individual, we would need to see how the communal is explicit in the particular andhow the particular con-tains without loss the whole of the communal. No doubt we could add to this list and pursue similar paired meanings with considerable profit, but I wonder if in the end it We need to work out with all possible accuracy what role the Exercises may play in Jesuit or any other spirituality. July-August 1994 527 Crowe ¯ The Ignatian Exercises and Jesuit Spirituality would bring us to the heart of the matter. I wonder in fact if our aim here is not a bit off center, if we should not approach the problem from another perspective altogether. For in the various pairs we have considered, the first member seems to remain incomplete until the second is added, and the second has always to be concerned that it incorporates the whole of the first. Further, the second term in each pair is thought of as an end product with its meaning determined: what a Jesuit is, what a Carthusian is-- these are already more or less clearly defined, belong to an estab-lished order, are in some measure static. Does such thinking deal adequately with the dynamism of the Exercises? I would like to explore a somewhat different approach. In this line of thought it is the heuristic character and therefore the dynamism of the Exercises that will be the focus. But all dynamic movement, all searching, all heuristic activity suppose and take place within a horizon that determines the activity and defines the source of energy for the search; I therefore need to study first the idea of horizon. For both terms, horizon and heuristic, I draw directly on the work of Bernard Lonergan. For the meaning of horizon, it will be best simply to quote Lonergan's account of the matter: In its literal sense the word, horizon, denotes the bound-ing circle, the line at which earth and sky appear to meet. This line is the limit of one's field of vision. As one moves about, it recedes in front and closes in behind so that, for different standpoints, there are different hori-zons. Moreover, for each different standpoint and hori-zon, there are different divisions of the totality of visible objects. Beyond the horizon lie the objects that, at least for the moment, cannot be seen. Within the horizon lie the objects that can now be seen. As our field of vision, so too the scope of our knowl-edge, and the range of our interests are bounded. As fields of vision vary with one's standpoint, so too the scope of one's knowledge and the range of one's interests vary with the period in which one lives, one's social back-ground and milieu, one's education and personal devel-opment. So there has arisen a metaphorical or perhaps analogous meaning of the word, horizon. In this sense what lies beyond one's horizon is simply outside the range of one's knowledge and interests: one neither knows nor cares. But what lies within one's horizon is in some measure, great or small, an object of interest and of knowledge,s 528 Review for Religious It is easy to apply this idea to the world of the Spiritual Exercises. One enters upon them with a given horizon, vaguely or clearly conceived: "the range of one's knowledge and interests"; for example, maybe one is led by a spirit of repentance or by anxiety about one's salvation. One makes the First Week, remaining for the most part within such a horizon--with glimpses of something beyond, to be sure, in such passages as the colloquy at the end of the first exercise (§53). But if one responds to the call of Christ in the Kingdom exercise (§91), one pushes back the previous horizon to work within a new one, far wider, with far greater potential, a horizon that is all-encompassing, a boundary that is in fact no boundary for it encloses a territory that is boundless. Now it is this ultimate hori-zon, and not any relative and con-fining horizon, that I would equate with the spirituality of the Exercises. The horizon of those who should not be led beyond the First Week is narrow and con-fining. What happens when one enters the Second Week with the mind and heart of those who would "show greater devotion and . . . distinguish themselves in total service to their eternal King and universal Lord" (§95)? What happens is the discovery of a new horizon, the horizon defined by Christ the Lord. The horizon is established in the exercises on Two Standards (§§ 136- 148) and Three Ways of Being Humble (§§165-168); details are added in the Mysteries of the Life of Christ Our Lord (§261); and in the Third and Fourth Weeks communion with Christ (what the Germans call Mitsein) fortifies the attraction of the good with the power of love and the interpersonal. This does not happen without the grace of God and a con-version. For besides the ultimate horizon there are relative hori-zons. There are shifts in our relative horizon as we move, say, from school days to the work force, and this shift may occur as a normal development of potentialities. "But it is also possible that the movement into a new horizon involves an about-face; it comes out of the old by repudiating characteristic features; it begins a Communion with Christ fortifies the attraction of the good with the power of love. 3~dy-Aug~t 1994 529 Crowe ¯ The Ignatian Exercises and yesuit Spirituality new sequence that can keep revealing ever greater depth and breadth and wealth. Such an about-face and new beginning is what is meant by a conversion.''6 Against that background we turn to the idea of the heuristic, taking as our context the fact that the Exercises are a search. Thus, the first annotation tells us: Our purpose, after removing obstacles, is to seek and to find the divine will (§1), and the fif-teenth annotation has advice for those who during the Exercises are seeking God's will (§15). Or, as is repeated over and over, recurring like a refrain, we are to seek what gives glory to God (§16). In the key stage of the Election, "While continuing our contemplations of [Christ's] life, we now begin simultaneously to explore and inquire: In which state or way of life does the Divine Majesty wish us to serve him?" (§135). And still, at the heart of the Exercises, in the meditation on the Three Classes of Men, we are seeking to "desire and know what will be more pleasing to the Divine Goodness" (§151). We are, then, in an area in which the idea of the heuristic plays a central role. My Webster's dictionary defines heuristic as "serving to guide, discover, or reveal." A helpful point: the famous "Eureka" of Archimedes is from the same Greek root; it means "I have found [it]; I have discovered the secret." Now this line of thought is thoroughly developed in Bernard Lonergan, and I find his treatment of the idea helpful for understanding the process and dynamic of spiritual search that the Exercises are. In his usage a heuristic notion tries to give some advance notice of what we hope to find; it is an anticipation of the answer we seek to a ques-tion; it is not a determinate concept, like various concepts in physics or chemistry or biology; it is an indeterminate anticipation. The nearly perfect word for this way of conceiving in antic-ipation what we have not yet deter'mined in particular is what-ever, and the nearly perfect use of whatever we can find right in Scripture. Paul, writing to the Philippians (4:8), exhorts them to focus on "whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is com-mendable" (NRSI~ in the Douai translation, "whatsoever"). Well, what is true? what is honorable, just, and so on? That will emerge with each new day, and meanwhile we are guided by its anticipa-tion in that "whatever." To come, then, to the present point, Ignatius and Paul are at one in conceivin, g by anticipation what they do not yet determine 530 Revie~v for Religious in particular. Apropos of the Election, Ignatius writes that we are to "think about how we ought to dispose ourselves in order to come to perfection in whatsoever state or way of life God our Lord may grant us to elect" (§ 135). It is possible now to bring these two ideas together in a new understanding of the relationship of the Exercises and Jesuit or other spirituality. My brief statement of the case would be that the horizon of the Exercises and the spirituality they directly intend is established in the exercise on the Two Standards (§§ 136-148) and the exercises that directly relate to it; further, that the heuristic of the Exercises is epitomized in the Election (§§169-188), where we search for and discover and embrace the state of life God intends for us. And the relationship between the two is indicated in the Introduction to the Consideration of the States of Life: "We shall also think about how we ought to dispose ourselves in order to come to perfection in whatsoever state or way of life God our Lord may grant us to elect" (§135). Perfection as defined in the Two Standards and their retinue of exercises is the horizon; but "whatsoever state" God may direct us to is another matter: it rep-resents the heuristic element. The Exercises do not, therefore, intend any one spirituality; their objective ordination, what the scholastics would call their finis operis, is neither Jesuit nor Carthusian spirituality, nor any other; they intend what God will choose, and their finis operis is a "whatever." What we therefore first conceived as generic, as infrastructure, as compact, as communal, we now conceive as a horizon; and what we first conceived as specific, as superstruc-ture, as differentiated, as individual, we now conceive as the area within that horizon that we discover to be God's will for us. But in moving from one to the other we do not add some-thing specific that was not contained in the genus, for everything is contained in the horizon; and, for those who respond fully, the whole spirituality of the horizon enters every vocation and every state of life. The situation is more like that of the incarnation: as the fullness of the Godhead dwells in Christ (Col 1:19), so the fullness of the horizon of Christ is the world in which we dwell, Jesuit and Carthusian and all others that respond fully to the call of the Kingdom exercise. And similarly, the "superstructure" we conceived as our way turns out to be what we may call an "addition," but an addition to what is already complete (like the humanity of Christ added to the July-August 1994 531 Crowe ¯ The Ignatian Exercises and Jesuit Spirituality God's will is the supreme heuristic notion guiding the exercitant, and the Exercises are a heuristic device. eternal and infinite Word). The "differentiation" we spoke of is not a dividing off of a part, but the incorporation of the whole, and the "individual" contains the fullness of the communal. Thus, one is everywhere safe within the all-encompassing arms of the Christian horizon; one is never in exile, never outside the shores of home, never a wanderer like the prodigal son in dis-tant lands. One does not, therefore, go beyond this horizon to be a Jesuit or to be a Carthusian or to find some other particular vocation. There is nothing there beyond it. It is the all-encompassing. Just as within any rel-ative horizon of geography one can go north or south, east or west, with-out going beyond the horizon, so within the ultimate horizon estab-lished by Christ one can become a Jesuit or a Carthusian, but one cannot go beyond the horizon set by Christ; one can only contract that horizon by living an inauthentic Jesuit life or liv-ing an inauthentic Carthusian life. Further use of the ideas of heuris-tic and horizon is readily made. In Lonergan's thought one can speak of heuristic notions and heuristic devices. There is the notion of being, the notion of the good, and so on; but there are also the heuristic structures that promote the discoveries we seek (his rather famous scissors action of heuristic method). One could say that God's will is the supreme heuristic notion guiding the exercitant and that the Exercises are a heuristic device, an instru-ment par excellence for finding God's will, maybe with a kind of scissors action too. (I do not, however, call the Exercises the supreme heuristic device, for we do not limit God's creativity to what was divinely done in Ignatius, and we do not know what successor God may be preparing for Ignatius.) Again, still in Lonergan's thought, one can speak of interrelationships in the set of horizons, of their complementary, genetic, and dialectical differences. But that would add length to an article that is already 532 Review for Religious long enough, and introduce further specialized categories where they are already rather extensive. Notes ~ Eventually such a study should come to the details of particular spiritualities, but that is a further step. Here I intend the word in a broad sense: "spirituality" includes, therefore, elements of doctrine and practice, of vocation and way of proceeding, of tradition and orientation, of rules and constitutions, and so on, without specifying what these may be for Jesuit, Carthusian, and other vocations. 2 The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius: A Translation and Commentary, by George E. Ganss SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1992), no. 18 in the numbering that is standard for all editions. All English quota-tions will be from this edition; numbers will be given in parentheses in the text. 3 In the Latin, "ut veniamus ad perfectionem in quocumque statu seu vita, quam Deus Dominus noster eligendam nobis dederit" (§ 135). The "quocumque" is the "whatever" I will presently discuss. 4 Bernard Lonergan, Topics in Education (The Cincinnati Lectures of 1959 on the Philosophy of Education), ed. Robert M. Doran and Frederick E. Crowe (University of Toronto Press, 1992), pp. 55-58. On Eric Voegelin see Kenneth Keulman, The Balance of Consciousness: Eric Voegelin's Political Theory (Pennsylvania State University Press, 1990), pp. 92-93: "What the pattern of symbolizations indicates is the development from compact to differentiated forms . The terms "compact" and "dif-ferentiated" refer not only to the symbolizations, but also to the charac-teristic forms of consciousness that generate them." s Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (2nd ed. reprint, University of Toronto Press, 1990), pp. 235-236. 6 Ibid, pp. 237-238. I add a few helpful quotations: "Horizontal lib-erty is the exercise of liberty within a determinate horizon and from the basis of a corresponding existential stance. Vertical liberty is the exer-cise of liberty that selects that stance and the corresponding horizon" (ibid, p. 40, with a reference to Joseph de Finance). "For falling in love is a new beginning, an exercise of vertical liberty in which one's world undergoes a new organization" (ibid, p. 122). "A horizontal exercise {of freedom] is a decision or choice that occurs within an established horizon. A vertical exercise is the set of judgments and decisions by which we move from one horizon to another" (ibid, p. 237). "Further, deliberate decision about one's horizon is high achievement. For the most part peo-ple merely drift into some contemporary horizon. They do not advert to the multiplicity of horizons. They do not exercise their vertical liberty by migrating from the one they have inherited to another they have dis-covered to be better" (ibid, p. 269). July-August 1994 533 JOAN MUELLER The Suscipe Revisited " J here~T~ is little doubt that one of the most famous excerpts .~- of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises is the Suscipe--"Take, Lord, Receive." In recent years its popularity has increased through John Foley's musical rendition of the text? Those who have made a thirty-day or a nineteenth-annotation Ignatian retreat are likely to recognize this prayer: Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and all my will--all that I have and possess. You, Lord, have given all that to me. I now give it back to you, 0 Lord. All of it is yours. Dispose of it according to your will. Give me your love and your grace, for that is enough for me.2 Directors of the Spiritual Exercises soon discover a variety of responses to the Suscipe. Some retreatants admit that they decide to what degree they pray it. The prayer feels like a radical, even reckless risk. Some, then, pray "to desire to desire" to enter into this prayer. Others simply decide to pray it with less intensity than they pray other prayers that feel less radical. Some retreatants report that the Suscipe begins to move through their consciousness like a mantra without their having any memory of deciding to pray it in this way; there is a passive, almost unconscious move-ment going on. Some people, however, pray the Suscipe with gusto, as if it is their greatest joy to make the words their own. Such people experience giving everything over to God as their true freedom. Joan Mueller OSF is assistant professor of systematic theology at Saint Francis Seminary and teaches in the summer spirituality program at Creighton University in Omaha, Nebraska. Her address is Saint Francis Seminary; 3257 South Lake Drive; Saint Francis, Wisconsin 53235. 534 Review for Religious Even though directors are well aware that the Exercises are designed to foster personal response to the gospel, we may won-der how one prayer can elicit such a variety of responses. We could probe this question by means of various methodologies: personality theories, enneagram numbers, prayer styles, and so forth. In this essay I propose examining the question through a consideration of the dynamics of the Exercises. A Dynamic Theory of the Spiritual Life The Ignatian Spiritual Exercises can be seen as a paradigm for spiritual growth. Many such paradigms exist in the Christian spir-itual tradition: St. Teresa of Avila's Interior Castle, St. John of the Cross's Ascent of Mount

Issue 29.6 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to Rxvmw Fog R~LmtOUS; 6x2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63xo3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. .Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1970 by REVIEW SOR REI, mtOUS. Printed in U.S.A. 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Spiritual Counseling and Pra er. Fostering an ever deepening relationship with God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit constitutes a major objective of the religious life. Traditionally the road to such a relationship has been a formal schedule of prayer. The daily horarium of spiritual exercises has been an essential part of almost every congregation's rule or con-stitutions. During the past decade styles of religious life and prayer have undergone change, especially among younger religious. Emphasis on the relationship with God remains, but the way of achieving this relationship and what it means differ. The new religious is more aware of what he is before God and before others. He is more aware of the Spirit working in the secular world; he recognizes God in himself, in the persons and events of his daily life. He encounters Christ in his contacts with others. Formal prayer, such as meditation, recitation of the Office and rosary, seem less impor.tant to him. In some instances, they have been abandoned in favor of a fre-quently renewed commitment. Flexibility. in Prayer In response to changing attitudes, many congregations have started to experiment with more flexible approaches to prayer. Freedom, previously unheard of, has been ÷ granted. Set periods of obligatory prayer have given way ÷ to approaches geared to unique personalities and temper- ÷ aments and to the dem~inds of a particular apostolate. This change has let a breath of fresh air into many communities, but at the same time it has created a vac-uum. Formal scheduled prayer, while it can and has helped individuals to grow in the likeness of Christ, is subject to the danger of routinism. It is relatively easy for a religious to deceive himself into believing that he is growing in the spiritual life because he spends the time at prayer required by rule, whereas little true prayer is ac- 803 Richard Vaughan, S.J.; P.O. BOX 519; Los Gatos, California 95030; is Provincial for Edu-cation of the Cali-fornia Jesuits . VOLUME 29, 1970 .÷ R. P. Va~ghan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 804 tually taking place. Some religious have been content to spend the assigned time at daily meditation, Office, or rosary, even though little recognizable benefit resulted, simply because the rule prescribed it. Young religious have come to question such a view. The focus of their religious life is more on the frequently renewed dedica-tion. However, just as the traditional emphasis has its limitations, so too does the recent approach. A spiritual life placing heavy emphasis on seeing God in the world of people and events can gradually give way to a human-ism in which one is no longer actively aware of God and centers rather on the purely human with a subsequent loss of the original commitment. Value of Spiritual Counseling Regular spiritual counseling can counteract this dan-ger, inasmuch as it requires the counselee to face honestly and openly his continuing commitment to the service of God and neighbor and, it might be added, to see the need for some form of regular prayer if an active awareness of God's presence is to continue. The process of spiritual counseling differs radically from psychological counseling and psychotherapy. The latter two are concerned with changes in personality and the reversal of symptoms resulting from the application of psychological techniques, whereas spiritual counseling focuses on the person's life with God. The spiritual coun-selor attempts to help the individual become more aware of his religious experiences. Basically he is trying to assist the counselee in discerning the workings of the spirit, so that he can determine what is the will of God for him in concrete situations. It is true that emotional disorders and faulty attitudes injure this discernment, but chang-ing these personality characteristics is not the spiritual counselor's proper function. Recognizing them, however, and the part they play in blocking discernment is. When personality characteristics are such as to handicap seri-ously any true discernment, then it is the responsibility of the spiritual counselor to direct the religious to a compe-tent professional so that these limitations can be reme-died. Spii'itual counseling serves a number of important functions. First of all, it allows us to have a better under-standing of the nature and quality of our relationship ,with God. It makes us actively aware of our daily reli-gious experiences. In our routine-ridden world, it is very easy to put aside a certain amount of time for prayer but seldom reflect on the efficacy and effectiveness of this prayer. We are apt to gloss over the question: Is my prayer truly prayer? Moreover, spiritual counseling makes us clarify and sharpen our thoughts and feelings about religious experiences in a way we would never do if we settled for a few minutes of self-reflection. When I must explain these experiences to another, I am forced to scrutinize them and then describe them in clear, accurate terms intelligible to my listener, As I talk about such things as the place of Christ in my life, God as a loving Father, prayer, the manifestation of grace, the working of the Holy Spirit, or God's will, I gradually sort out the genuine from the false, and the important from the un-important. I become aware of my openness or.my lack of openness to God. I become aware of the many ways that God is operating in my life--either directly or indirectly. I experience a deeper appreciation for God-'s manifesta- .tions. On the other hand I may well see that a wall seems to exist between God and myself. I may come to the conclusion that I have closed myself off from or denied many of God's manifestations. I may see that I have rejected important graces and c6ncerned myself exces-sively with my own world. If left to myself, it is less likely that I would come to realize my own selfishness and. lack of concern for God and neighbor. Listening Spiritual counseling involves three phases: listening, dialogue, and decision. Listening is an activity .of both the counselee and the .counselor. Even though the coun-selee may never reflect upon the fact, he listens to himself and to the promptings of divine grace within himself. As he talks he becomes aware of God working in and through him. Moreover, it is assumed that previous to the coun-seling session he has listened to God speaking, especially at times of.prayer. These promptings of grace become the subject of discussion. It should be noted that God speaks in many ways: directly through His Spirit, through reve-lation, through others, and through the events 6f everyday life. One 6f the goals of counseling is to determine when God speaks as opposed to the promptings of our sinful nature. Listening is also the work of an effective counselor. It is sometimes falsely considered "lending an ear." If one is present and aware of what is being said, he is thought to be listening. The truth of the matter is that listening is a very active process requiring much concentration and ex-penditure of energy. It demands that the counselor try to be aware of what is taking place within the counselee at each moment he is with him. It also demands that the counselor recognize the various levels of functioning, such as the spiritual, the cognitive, the conative, and the affective, as well as the relationship and integration, or lack of integration, of all of these functions. For instance, the good listener is one who is perceptive enough to see ÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling and Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 805 ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW "FOR RELIGIOUS 806 when emotions have taken over to the detriment of the Spirit or when habitual attitudes block thoughtful reflec-tion. The good listener hears not only the words but the way the words are expressed. He notes the tone of voice as well as the mode of expression; from these he is able to estimate the emotional involvement. The spiritual coun-selor as listener concentrates on any indication of the Spirit working within the counselee. He notes blocks or hindrances to the promptings of grace. At times, he sees that the counselee has a need to unlSurden himself before he can become aware of God's presence in his life. The counselor listens with empathetic concern. He attempts to discover what God means to the connselee, his reli-gious experiences, the depths of his faith, and his atti-tudes. Frequently all of these can be learned by active and attentive listening with little need for probing or questioning. Before the counselor enters the second phase, namely, the dialogue, he makes sure that he has at least an adequate estimate of the counselee's spiritual state. Dialogue The second phase, the dialogue, presupposes a rapport which allows the counselee to talk freely about his reli-gious experiences. Concerned listening often brings this about, inasmuch as it produces a feeling of acceptance, which permits the counselee to express freely his views without [ear of rejection. A dialogue is a conversation in which two persons reason on a topic, exchanging ideas and opinions. They examine the evidence for and against an action or a position. The initial stance is one of open-ness to all possibilities. When the term is used in relation to spiritual counseling, it implies that the counselor and the counselee examine the latter's spiritual condition, re-flecting upon its state. I[ all is well, they evaluate the signs indicating that the individual is following God's will. If there is a problem, they weigh together possible solutions, considering arguments for and against each. During the first phase the counselee describes his spirit-ual condition, which then becomes the topic of discussion during the second phase. The counselor helps the counse-lee enumerate arguments favorable to and opposed to a particular stance; he helps him evaluate the relative mer-its of each. He assists him to see when and how the Spirit is working in concrete situations. He also helps him to-ward a greater awareness of God's presence. Counseling is a learning situation. It is a time when an individual learns more about himself. Often this is accomplished without giving advice or direction. As the counselee talks about his relationship with God and neighbor, he be-comes more aware of divine intervention in the world of grace. He begins to see on his own what changes should be made and what he should do to bring about improve-ment. However, there is still a place for direction and guidance, especially in counseling younger members of a community. For instance, if a religious has never learned to pray properly, the counseling session c,'in afford an opportunity to teach the fundamentals, followed b3) a period of testing and reassessment. It can also be the occasion for presenting the traditions of a community, a time when the religious can consider whether he is fol-lowing these traditions or whether he really wishes to do so. Whether one makes use of advice and. guidance de-pends upon the needs of the individual counselee. It is the task of the counselor to determine these needs and then proceed accordingly. Decision-making At times, decision-making is part of the counseling process. Frequently, however, the purpose of counseling is simply to help an individual come to a greater aware-ness of God's manifestations and to a better understand-ing how he is or is not following God's will. When there is a need to make a decision, it is hoped that the counsel-ing will result in the counselee arriving at a decision on his own. The function of the counselor is to see that the counselee confronts all the options and weighs their rela-tive merits. Rarely should the counselor force a final deci-sion based on his own evaluation of the situation. If the counseling is truly counseling, most counselees can arrive at a decision without undue influence on the part of the counselor. An inability to do so may signify some kind of a psychological problem. dttributes of the Counselor Who can counsel? What should be the characteristics and abilities of the spiritual counselor? First and fore-most, he or she should be a person of faith, aware of the world of grace and the divine manifestations; one who has personally experienced the presence of God in his own life. He should be a person who can and does love both himself and others. He should be perceptive, with the ability to see below the surface and recognize the depths of personality and spiritual growth. He should also be able to communicate well his thoughts and im-pressions. To be effective, he or she will need adequate training in the theology of the spiritual life and, hope-fully, will have previously sought out a spiritual counse-lor for himself or herself. Psychological training can be helpful inasmuch as it offers some procedures directly or indirectly applicable to spiritual counseling. It should be noted, however, that it Counseling and Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 807 can also be a handicap if the counselor, as a result of his training, centers most of his attention on personal prob-lems to the neglect of the spiritual. If young religious are to develop a full spiritual li~e, and if older members are to realize the renewal urged by Vatican II, there is a need for an abundance of spiritual counselors--at least one or two for every large commun-ity, It is quite evident there are too few priests with available time. The most logical solution is for congrega-tions to train the members of their own communities as spiritual counselors. They could select those best suited by previous training, experience, and personality, and assign them to this important task. Many orders or con-gregations of men have already inaugurated such a pol-icy, but they find it impossible to supply priests who can devote themselves fully to the counseling of religious women. Conclusion A perusal of the early history of the religious life re-veals a minimum of structure with a great emphasis on regular spiritual direction. Due to the constant effort of a spiritual counselor each monk grew at his own rate in the likeness of Christ. As members increased individual coun-seling became more difficult and was gradually replaced by the ordered daily horarium of spiritual exercises, the goal of both being the deepening of the monk's relation-ship with God. If contemporary religious congregations are to realize the inner renewal sought by Vatican II, they would do well to consider a return to a style of religious life grounded in regularspiritual counseling. ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, REVIEW FOR R~LIGIOU$ SISTER KRISTIN SHRADER, R.S.M. Prayer Is Listening Several years, ago, Karl Rahner began speaking of the "Church of the Diaspora," the Church which had come of age, which had forsaken the trappings of bourgeois collectivism, which had become the standard, of a commit-ted few. If the diaspora has characterized Chrigtianity, it seems even more so to be characterizing contempoi:ary religious" life. The wane of numerical strength has made it clear that convents and seminaries are in the throes of a crisis of vocation and a crisis of belie[. It is within the context of religiotis life in the Church of the diaspora that I would like to discuss the question of contemplative prayer. Our age, engulfed in a deluge of media and messages, has been characterized as one which "has lost the apti-tude for prayer.'.' 1 If prayer is listening not only to the Spirit as He works in our hearts but as He works in the world around us, then perhaps our age has also lost the aptitude' for listening. Perhaps we are deaf to'entire re-gions of ourselves and our world. I shall try to describe these hidden domains, and, in the process, try to l~rovoke us to hear what we have not heard before. Perhaps we are deaf to that part of ourselves and our world which is beyond that which merely performs "actions. This is the self and the world which do not act, but which are the mirrors in which God acts so as to let Himself be known. This is not the self-made self and not the man-made world, but is that which is passive, which is fashioned and illuminated by God. How are we in the last third of the twentieth century to find a new way to pray, a new way to listen? I suggest that we look at our unhearing selves in terms of two new images: that of pilgrim and that of prophet, instead of in terms of the image of professional or of achiever. This means that to listen, to pray, we must not do, achieve, or accomplish anything as the world accomplishes things, but rather that we must learn to listen by holding our- I Wino~ de Broucher, S.J., "Mortification in Prayer," Cross and Crown, March 1963, p. 13. 4- Sister Kristin writes from Lewis Hall (Box 219); University o[ Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. VOLUME 29, 1970 809 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Kristir~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 810 selves in readiness for something, or rather for someone. This patient readiness is what I think Karl Rahner was describing when he spoke of prayer as "this awful waiting." 2 It is what Augustine meant when he said that the continual desire for God is prayer. I can neither explain nor understand prayer. Perhaps no one can: "There are thresholds which thought alone, left to itself, can never permit us to cross. An experience is required--an experience of poverty and sickness" 3 or, perhaps, of love or of sacrifice. By attempting to describe something, prayer, which I cannot explain, perhaps I can, though, suggest how we "listen." Merton suggests the form that such a preparation for prayer might take: (1) detachment and (2) finding ideas about God in all we do.4 His second suggestion corresponds to what I will describe as living as a prophet, as one who sees the signs of God in all things. His first suggestion, detachment, corresponds to what I have called living as pilgrim, as one who can look inside himself to see that he desires God and God alone, and that this world is b/at one stage of his Godward development. Amid the dissonance of the desires of this world, the pilgrim alone truly knows how to listen. He knows that this world is not his home, that he is journeying to God, and that this very journey is what we call prayer. As Merton says: "The secret of prayer is a hunger for God and for the vision of God, a hunger that lies far deeper than the level of language or affection." ~ Much this same point, that prayer is a desire for God, a consciousness of our being pilgrims, of our listening to what is in, but not of, the world, is made not only by Merton, but also by Teresa of Avila, by Aquinas, by Paul, by Guardini, by John of the Cross, and by Karl Rahner. When John of the Cross wrote that the man of prayer "will desire with all desire to come to that which in this life cannot be known," 6 he was making much the same point as Paul whose prayer was his desire for God: I think that what we suffer in this life can never be compared to the glory, as yet unrevealed, which is waiting for us. The whole creation is eagerly awaiting for God to reveal his sons . Creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning until now the entire 2 Encounters With S!lence (Westminster: Newman, 1965), p. 25. a Quoted by Thomas Merton, Zen and the Birds o] Appetite (New York: New Directions, 1968), p. 56. ~Seeds o[ Contemplation (Norfolk, Connecticut: New Directions, 1968), p. 133. ~ Ibid., p. 140. ~ The Complete Works of John of the Cross (Westminster: New-man, 1949), v. 1, p. 76. creation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giving birth; and not only creation, but all of us who possess the first fruits of the Spirit, we too groan inwardly as we wait for our bodies to be set free. For we must be content to hope that we shall be saved--our salvation is not in sight., it is something we must wait for with patience. The Spirit too comes to help us in our weakness. For when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words, and God who knows everything in our hearts knows perfectly well what he means.' These are the words of Paul who longed ~o be deliv-ered from this body of death and to be with God, Paul who wrote to his Philippians: "I want to be gone and be with Christ." s Thus, for a man who really desires God, prayer is no longer problematic, because we pray as we live. As Merton puts it: "As a man is, so he prays." 9 Thus the man who listens is he who is able to hear his own deep desire for God. He, the pilgrim, is able to say: "I want God and I want him more than anything else, and I will wait for him." This is what Teresa of Avila meant when she uttered her Deus solus sul~cit. It is this realization which is the substance of prayer. Following along these same lines, Karl Rahner says that the ulti-mate meaning of daily prayer is the awful waiting for the God we desire: "The prayer that You require of me," writes Rahner to God, "must be, ultimately, just a pa-tient waiting for You, a silent standing by until You, who are ever present in the inmost center of my being, open the gate to me from within." 10 For Rahner, being a listener, a pilgrim, was based on the realization that nothing on earth is worth abandon-ing oneself to it. Thus all life is one prayer, one long aspiring for God, like the lives of the wise virgins of the Gospel, si~ch that our eternal possession by God is the answer to our lifelong prayer, a prayer which basically is like that of John of the Cross: I live, yet no true life I know, And living thus expectantly, I die because I do not die Within myself no life I know And without God, I cannot live.n Out of our Augustinian restlessness-~our restless until they rest in thee--and out of our wholeness and for finality is born contemplati Thi~_ pr_~esupposes, of course, that we can hear~ ' Rorn 8:18-27. s Phil 1:23. ~No Man Is an Island (New York: Harcourt, Brace 1955), p. 42. 10 Rahner, Encounters, p. 24. ~ Works of John oI the Cross, v. 2, p. 450. hearts are ~unger for ve prayer. he cries of and World, 4- 4- + Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 81I Sister Kristin REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 812 our hearts for wholeness. The penalty for failing to artic-ulate our inner longings for God, for failing to risk the often painful encounter with the unseen God within Us, is being doomed to live a boring, supercilious, superficial life. But none of us wants to live a superficial life, just as none of us wants to live a life devoid of prayer. The crucial question, then, is: How do we learn to listen, to live as pilgrims? How do we begin to utter the "I want God" which is the essence of contemplative prayer? Pascal says that we would not seek God unless He had ¯ already found us.12 This suggests that we cannot learn to desire God, because He must find us first. This suggests that John of the Cross was correct when he said thatthe soul that has union with God no longer has any methods of prayer, that within the limits of the supernatural there are no prescribed ways.13 Pascal's remark also suggests that we do not really learn to look for God; rather, we realize He is already within us. Seeking Him should be for us, as it wa~ for Paul, a continual realization that He has already found us, that He dwells within us. "Know you not," Paul virtually shouts out, that "you are the temples of the Spirit?" 14 Paul knew that God had found him, had loved him.15 As John said: "Christ first loved us." i~ Perhaps we do not have a tremendous desire for God because we have not been stripped of all else. That is why we cannot live as listeners, as pilgrims. 1 referred earlier to the necessity of detachment if we were to listen to the cries of our heart for God--lf we were to llve ~'s pilgrims. This emptiness means, I think, that we realize that just as love demands sacrifice, so prayer dhmands discipline, that we cannot live by our feelings and then call it fulfillment, that we cannot live by rationalizing and then call it hearing the Spirit. I think this ~mptiness means, too, that we must bear patiently even our inabil-ity to desire God. Only When we learn to suffer with our own inability to find Christ, only when we discover our own spiritual poverty and our own hunger for God, only when we learn to agonize over the whys of existence and God and self---only then will we have prepared the ground out of which the solitude of contemplation will grow, because on.ly then will we have learned to listen. It is~hard to learn to listen, hard to say "I want God" when we know that the very conditions of our finding God demand sacrifice: the sacrifice of regular, disciplined ~ Quoted by Louis Evely, That Man Is You (Westminster: New-man, 1964), p. 15. ,1, Works o] John oI the Cross, v. 2, p. 76. it Rom 8:9-11; I Cor 3:16. ~ Rom 5:8. 101 Jn 4:19. prayer, the saca-ifice of not trying to rely on an of prayer but only on faith, the sacrifice of "a ihg," as Rahner calls it,17 the sacrifice of reno that we possess, as Luke says,18 the sackifice of o dung what we used to call gain, as Paul says.19 All these forms of sacrifice are" what Cassian "purity of heart," what Christ meant when no man can serve two masters, what Merton using Zen to still the birds of appetite, wh~ Eckhart meant when he said: "To be a proper God and fit for God to act in, a man should a] from all things and actions, both inwardly wardly.20 In saying that detachment and mortification condition for the contemplative prayer ofa li: being a pilgrim, we enunciate the dictum of Jc Cross: Solitude is o;eated by an unsatisfie~ John of the Cross compares wrong desires tc which obstruct the sight of the soul,2~ and says hess that is uncreated cannot enter the soul, not first cast out that other created hunger whk to the desire of the soul; for . two contrari dwell in one person . " Yet, in spite of our knowledge that we will ne union with God in prayer without first emp hearts of other desires, this knowledge does cause us to desire God. On the contrary, it is dous grace, I think, for a person living in th~ lose interest in the things that absorb the discover in his own soul an appetite for po y methods ~vful wait-ancing all )unting as meant by said that meant by it Meister abode for so be fi:ee and out-is the pre- ;tener, for hn of the hunger. cataracts that "ful-l there be h belongs es cannot vet attain Lying our lOt alone a tremen-world to orld and 'erty and. solitude. How can we prepare ourselves to r~ zeive this gift of grace? I think we can begin, as Merton'says, by not trying to understand, explain, or produce a ~lesire for God or for contemplative prayer. Rather, we on ght to .try tq see, to listen . and this seeing and hearin experience, not rationality, out of which pray! How else can we learn to hear the pure ~ which is the threshold for prayer? Paul sugges~ learn to really listen to the Spirit when in th~ chapters of the first epistle to the Corinthians, guishes two types of wisdom. The first is a ~ words; it is rational and didlectical. The secon~ dom of the cross; it is experiential and para6 was the second sort of knowledge that Paul kne about Christ. The word of the cross is self-empt Rahner, Encounters, p. 2~. Lk 14:33. Phil 3:7-9. Quoted by Thomas Merton, Zen, p. 9. Works oI John oI the Cross, v. 1, pp. 42-3. Ibid., p. 36. is pure is born. Cperience how we first two .ae distin-isdom of is a wis- ~xical. It w told us ying, and ÷ ÷ Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 813~ 4, 4. Sister Kristin REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 814 only it enables us to know in the Biblical sense of know-ing as possessing in the act of love. Those who love have a new logic of knowledge and from this new type of wisdom comes the experience which is prayer. But prayer, listening to the reality of all that happens, is not merely being aware of our desire for God and our condition of being pilgrims. Prayer is not only to love God above all things, but it is also to see him everywhere in all things. This was what Teilhard called "purity of heart." 2a That is, prayer also is a type of listening which looks outward and sees the world as filled with signs of God. It is tlfis type of prayer whose exercise demands that we al! be prophets, revealing the hidden things of God out of tangible happenings. This type of prayer is not problematic if one's world is shot through with God. But how do we listen such that our world is seen and heard as permeated with God? One way, I think, is to build on the crucial experiences of life, since prayer operates by means of issues which are ulti-mate in our lives. That is, prayer operates according to our systems of values. Prayer, or the lack of it, affirms what is, or what is not, important to us: That is, the happenings which drive us to the ground ques-tions about human existence and which elicit our deepest self commitments are., good preparations for deep prayer. We find in the profound experiences of love and creativity an in-tensification of our spiritual self-possession, accompanied by a lucid awareness of the contingency of our world, which is already an encounter with God. From such peak experiences we can slowly learn to feel how God is always present to our human action?~ Perhaps we cannot learn to pray because we cannot really see or hear. Perhaps we are too much a part of an age which is activistic rather than prayerful, pragmatic rather than spiritual, anthropocentric rather than theocentric, compromising rather than disciplined. Thomas Merton once wrote that if we were really look-ing for God,. every moment and every event would sow seeds of contemplation in our hearts.2~ That is, if our hearts were ready, we would see that "the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls" as Simon and Garfunkel say. All life would be a sign if we knew how to listen to God. How do we become prophets, so that we can listen to the signs of God that are heard in life? Perhaps one way of listening is conscience. Perhaps another is being aware of a seeking that is unsatisfied by material things. As we =Hymn of the Universe (New York: Harper and Row, 1965), p. 124. -"~ John Carmody, S.J., "Contemporary Faith and Prayer," Sisters Today, November 1967, p. 105. "~ Merton, Seeds, p. 18. passively search, or listen, we become aware of God's work in us and in the world around us and we respond. This response, is prayer, and it was brought about, as Scriptures say, by sleeping with our hearts awake.2~ And our heart is kept awake by love and discipline, by faith- [ulness to the insights of prayer, by watchful attention. This continual search is the 'condition of continued growth, and faith is the condition of continual search.27 For us to be prayerful, then, requires that we learn to see the world as prophets, as full of signs of God, and this requires faith. But what is the object of our faith and how is it attained? Jesus told us to seek and we would find, and yet He did not tell us what we would find. In fact He said there were no close directives for discovering His kingdom. It would come unawares; it was within . His coming would be like a lJlghtning flash.-~s If this is so, then perhaps all we can do is to be like watchful virgins, ready for the hour when His light and His prayer comes. Another way of being "ready" is, I think, to eliminate the defensivensss and self-protectiveness of our words, by opening ourselves to understand, by giving up the secu-rity of set words or positions. If we know how to listen, then a person who confronts us with angxy words is really saying he is afraid to love us. A person who says God does not exist is really saying no one ever made God meaning-ful to him. Listening this way means hearing God. And after all, (lid not God know how to listen? He loved us first, as John says.29 He became a slave so that we could be saved, as Paul says, and He loved us while we were yet sinners.~0 Why is it that we cannot see signs of God, that we do not know how to listen and to pray? Perhaps it is because Christ is not real enough for us . but how is he made real? One way, I think is by the way in which He gives shape to our lives by the vocation that we, with the Spirit, choose. This is because, for the Christian, love is the only absolute, and' our vocational dhoice and our prayer are both concrete ways of expressing this love. When Jesus prayed, it was always in response to His vocation; He prayed before choosing His Apostles, and before His passion and death. To pray in this way, as Christ prayed, demands that we listen to the signs of God in our vocational call. We pray for much ~he same rea-sons that we want to be religious: we want to preach God and to praise Him and to help bring forth His kingdom. ~ Canticle of Canticles 5:2. ~ See Rosemary Haughton, On Trying to Be Human (Springfield, Illinois: Templegate, 1966), p. 42. = Lk 17:24. .o0 1 Jn 4:19. ~o Phil 2:7; Rom 5:9. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 815 Si~ter Kristin REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 816 We want to find Him. For these reasons we pray. For these reasons we are celibates living in community. Thus the surrender to God's will which characterizes listening prayer seems, identical with a resolve to go ahead vocationally with what we know we must do. And what we must do is necessitating precisely because it is a faithful expression of who we are. Prayer and vocation both say who we are; they constitute our identity, and they are both linked together. If we are faithful to who we a~e, then we listen. Then we do not have to run around trying to fill up people with. God, because we know He is already there, that we have already been redeemed. Then we are abl~ to make visible, in daily events, the fact that behind the anxious sincerity and idealism and capacity to love of most people is the face of Christ who loved us so much that He came to liye among us, that behind the dirty curtain of Viet-nam, and racial hatred, and all the ways in which we are insensitive to those with whom we live, is the face of the crucified Christ. This is the raw material of prayer, and knowing how to listen refines it into prayer. If we know how to listen, then we do not have to look at the world as if it were built in two stories: the first floor, the natural level, the second floor, the supernatural level. If we know how to listen, we do not have to try to depend upon laws or habits or practices or veils to speak, of God. Our love will do it for us. Instead, we can take the world as it is, lavished by God's love and our poor attempts to love, and see it as holy. I do not think the person of prayer, as prophet, is pietistic.or aloof or unapproachable; I think he or she is One who is able to recognize in all men the face of the Messiah, the one who, as prophet, is able to make visible what is hidden and hopeful the one who was without hope. Such a person is compassionate and merciful; he realizes that nothing human is alien, that something looks profane only because his eye is not sacred. Out of this human compassion, the heart of a true prophet is opened not only to his sisters and brothers, but to God. In listening to them, he can listen to the man of Galilee who called illiterate fishermen, who talked with learned Pharisees, who wept over Jerusalem, and who, finally,. had nowhere to lay His head. Jesu.s redeemed us, and if we listen, we know that. When we listen, we will become aware of all that is beautiful, that is one, that is in pain and anguish, of all that is holy, in the Body of Christ. With this awareness-- and we have to be aware--we go to the Father in the Spirit, and we praise Him and reverence Him and lift up to Him the suffering members of His Body. It is this awareness which is the door to deep personal prayer. In fact, contemplative prayer is a witness to a special type of awareness: that of faith. Here:, God is present to the self and the contemplative listener is called to live in a more intimate communication with that mystery. Just as de-tachment was the precondition for the prayer which was desire for God, so faith is the precondition for the prayer which sees God in all things. When we can live these two types of prayer, when we are both pilgrim and prophet, we can listen, and we hear precisely because we have stilled our own murmurings and hear Christ in others. When we are all this, we have, as John of the Cross says, both entered upon the road and left the road at the same time.al At this point we will have given God, not our feelings, not even our thoughts, but ourselves. And when we have done this, we can say with Rahner: "Your commission has become my very life. It ruthlessly claims all my energies for itself; it lives from my own life." az We can say with Paul: I am not my own any longer,as At this point, our prayer will be the utterly simple prayer of listening because we will be living and moving and having being in God. Prayer will happen because we pray as we live, and we must live as pilgrims and proph-ets. In the end, all I have said comes down to our living with the unshakable conviction, of those who wait, that now we see a dim reflection in a mirror, but that one day, one day, as Paul says?4 we will see face to face. Works ol John oI the Gross, v. 2, p. 70. Rahner, Encounters, p. 72. Philem I:10; Phil 3:12. 1 Cor 15:12. Prayer. VOLUME 29, 1970 817 JOHN O. MEANY AND SISTER MARJORIE CAREY, B.V.M. Psychology and "The Prayer of the Heart" J. O. Meany is as-sociate professor of. education and Sis-ter Marjorie teaches Russian at the Uni-versity of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 48556; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Incredible as it may seem, there is an ancient Christian tradition of prayer which seems to be almost unknown to Christians in the West. How many Western Christians, for example, have heard of "The Prayer of the Heart"? This Eastern tradition of prayer, sometimes called "Hesy-chasm," may play an increasingly important role in the personal and interior "reformation" which is, hopefully, now taking place in the Roman Catholic Church in the West. There are changes emerging in the Western ap-proaches to prayer and to spiritual formation: a return to a more interior life of prayer and a personalistic and psychologically-conscious spirituality. In order to return to what is more basic and funda-mental in the psychology of prayer, it is essential that we distinguish between those particular aspects of Western Christianity which have been determined by our own unique culture(s) and traditions and, on the other hand, those aspects of prayer and spirituality which are, in an anthropological sense, relatively "culture-free," or more universal and fundamental. It may be difficult to com-pare. our own familiar forms of prayer and spirituality with those which are relatively more independent of our own experience and traditions, but only in this way can we obtain a new view of the primary sources of the basic Christian spirit. There are, of course, as many approaches to G6d as there are (from the human point of view) facets of His Being; and there are as many paths to Him as there are individuals whom He guides along these paths. For God is not limited by our limitations. He draws each individ-ual to Him in a unique way. Yet it seems that, however unique the way, God usually draws a person to Him by using that person's cultural and socio-economic back-ground. Eastern and Western traditions and personality characteristics differ; thus the mode of prayer of an East-ern Christian may seem to be radically different in ap-pearance, if not in reality, from that of a Western Chris-tian. In recent years, however, many young Westerners have turned to the East for new approaches to spirituality; they have found in some forms of Eastern spirituality-- particularly in Zen Buddhism and Yoga--new insights into themselves. Similarly, we, too, may come to see more clearly our own sources of spirituality, through an at-tempt to understand a different Christian tradition. In-deed, one seldom understands his own country until he has left it to travel abroad. | Historically, the Prayer of the Heart d~tes back to the fourth-century desert fathers of Egypt wh~ insisted on the ideal of continual prayer. The Prayer of/he Heart, often called the Jesus Prayer today, began to e~nerge in recog-nizable form during the fifth century; and the full text of the prayer can be found in the life of tl~e sixth-century Egyptian hermit, Abba Philemon. A coln~non~ expression of the Jesus Prayer, rhythmically said froth the heart, has bee,n,: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me. This form of prayer can be descr!,b~d as: "Standing before God with the mind in the heart. | The roots of the Jesus Prayer are to belfound in Scrip-ture itself. The Jews of the Old Testarpent so revered Yahweh that His name was considered to [be an extension of His Person, a revelation of His Being.I This reverence for the name of God continues throughout the New Tes-tament: "At the na,m,,e of Jesus every kne~ should bow, in heaven and on earth (Phil 2:10). Indeed, lthe entire Jesus Prayer is existentially, as well as Biblically, oriented. Its similarity to two other Scriptural prayers is apparent: the prayer of the blind man, "Jesus, Son ~f David, have mercy on me" (Lk 18:38); and that of the [publican, "God be merciful to me a sinner" (Lk 18:13). In t!me, a body ,o,f traditio,n, al teachin~ c,a, lled "Hesy-chasm;' meaning quietness' or "reppse, grew up around the Jesus Prayer; and at least 'since the sixth century the tradition of the Jesus Prayer has influenced the spirituality of Eastern Christians. During three peri-ods of history the Jesus Prayer has been particularly in-fluential in the East: during the Golden Age of Hesy-chasm in fourteenth-century Byzantium .under the great theologian,. St. Gregory Palamas; during the Hesychast renaissance in Greece in the eighteenth century when the great anthology of Eastern spirituality, the Philokalia (love of the beautiful), was written; and during nine-teenth century Russia under Theophan the Recluse. To understand better how the Hesychast approach could contribute to the West, one might examine how it ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer o] the Heart VOLUME 29, 1970 819 4. 4. 4. I. O. Meany and St. Marjmle REVJEW FOR REL]GIO0$ 82O has already contributed to the East; for example, how it has contributed to Russian spirituality, as that spirit has grown out of the environment and "national" character of the Russian people. The Russians are predominantly a silent people; this is evident in an old Russian custom: traditionally, whenever a member of an old Orthodox Russian family leaves on a journey, the entire family gathers in silence to pray. The family remains silent for several minutes; then the father rises to bless the family and each member of the family silently traces the Sign of the Cross on his forehead while facing the. family icon. Afte~ this paternal blessing, mutual blessings are ex-changed. This love of silence may also have led many Russian Christians to a contemplative life. There is also in the soul of the Russian people a primitive, almost naive simplicity; yet in this simplicity profound depths may be fathomed. Russian spirituality has been imbued with this simplicity which is so characteristic of the spirit of the Gospel. Their prayer life, too, has always been simple, without a complicated rational (or discursive) for-mula. Still another characteristic of the Russian peasant is his love of the rhythmic beauty of life--the" rhythm found in the cycles of nature and family life. This is especially apparent in the works of Tolstoy, who so com-pellingly depicted these cycles in his great epics, War and Peace and Anna Karenina. This love of rhythm, found also in Russian music, is clearly reflected in the rhythmic breathing of the "Jesus Prayer." One of the most obvious characteristics of the Russian peasant is his yearning for open and unlimited stretches of land. The geography of the land, therefore, influences the national character ofthe people, which in turn, af-fects the forms of their spirituality. The vast open areas of Siberia, the immense forests of the country, seems to have evoked a response to the Infinite which is reflected in personal religious experience. Because of this yearning for space, the Russian peasant has also been somewhat of a pilgrim. This, of c6urse, is true of many cultures and personalities; indeed, the whole history of man can be seen as a journey. Yet as Nicolas. Berdyaev points out, this spirit of the wanderer seems particularly characteristic of the Russian people. Through the centuries Russian pil-grims have traveled from afar in search of peace and spiritual renewal, visiting the famous cathedrals of Kiev, Novgorod, and other places of pilgrimage. They have traveled especially to those places where a "staretz," a man of God, prayer, and discernment, was still to be found. Thus, the innate yearning of the Russians for vast unlimited space has made them a nomadic people. This spirit of the wanderer, in search of truth, is .underscored in The VCay of a Pilgrim, a story of a Russian pilgrim who journeys forth, continually repeating the Jesus Prayer. This unknown Russian pilgrim has made the Eastern mode of prayer more available to Westerners through his personal religious experiences which are de-scribed in The Way o[ a Pilgrim and The Pilgrim ,Con-tinues His Way. The Jesus Prayer is a prayer that comes from the heart. It differs from the current Western and, perhaps, more cognitive approach to prayer; yet as St. Teresa of Avila points out, the important thing is not to have m~ny thoughts, but to have great love. Eastern Christians seem to have preserved the idea of the whole man: body and heart as well as mind and soul. This more total approach to "spirituality" seems to be meaningful for modern Westerners, as can be seen in the new orientation of such books as Harvey Cox's The Feast o[ Fools, Dechanet's Christian Yoga, Dom Aelred Graham's Zen Catholicism and Norman Brown's Love's Body. The difference in modes of prayer, then, between the East and the West is based not only on cultural and personality characteristics, but also on the different atti-. tudes toward man which are prevalent in the East and in the West. For centuries. Europeans and Americans have tended to emphasize man's rational nature; and since the Counter-Reformation, this emphasis has found expression not only in Western scientific methodology but also in various discursive "methods" of prayer, such as the Igna-tian, Sulpician, Salesian, and Ligourian. Descartes' dualism, or Western rationalism, has failed, however, to create in the (non-Westernized) East the head/heart dichotomy that it has fostered in the West. The traditional Russian peasant seems never to have lost his sense of wholeness. Eastern Christians seem to have preserved that broad perspective of "the whole man," an integrated body-heart-mind-soul. Perhaps the Zen scholar Daisetz T. Suzuki was right in contending that Western thought has erected barriers be-tween man and reality; barriers of concepts, imagery, cas-uistry, and reasoning. Consequently, instead of bringing us closer to reality, language has frequently separated us from it. For example, if a person rigidly decides not'to think about sex, he often finds himself unconscio~usly in-volved in it. There is a story of a Western theologian who decided to marry just after writing an elaborate treatise on celibacy; the theologian admitted that all his former theories had been "mental constructs." In terms of depth psychology, this type of theological "construct" might be seen as an intellectual defense, a defense which .broke down under the pressure of previously-denied (emotional and sense) experience. Repression fosters "acting out.:' Similarly, current Western existential "philosophy" can the Heart ,. VOLUME' 29,. 1970 :~" 82L ~. O. Meany and Sr. Mar]orie REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS 822 be seen as an attempt to break through (defensive) logical constructs in order to come closer to the "living reality." The East, however, is in a sense, already "existential" and has been throughout its long history. Though recent Western theology has tended to be Cartesian or dualistic, the Russian has always been more at home with an existential or phenomenological ap-proach to God and prayer. The writings of Dostoevsky were influenced by Orthodox spirituality; this approach is often viewed as both intriguing and somewhat threat-ening to a Westerner, whose spiritual formation has o.ften been unconsciously conditioned by abstract ideals and logical categories. However, existeritialism and phenom-enology are beginning to have an impact in the West, through such Christian authors as Dietrich von Hilder-brand, Hubert Dom, Adrian Van Kaam, Gabriel Marcel, and Simone Weil. The existential and direct approach to God, although it is found in the prayers of the liturgies of the West, has always been a more living part of the consciousness of the Russian. The best aspects of tradi-tional Russian spirituality would not be interested in a rationalism or nominalism which would tend to separate love from human physical experience. But the worst in Russian Marxism might attempt to separate love from the physical world. Even as the human body can be seen as the outward expression of the inner soul, so also can icons, images, and incense be seen as an expression of the Church's inner spirituality. Thus the Russian prays with a pro-found sense of reverence; he seems to have a deep sense of ritual. In the Orthodox religion there is no Western-like sepa-ration between the liturgy and private prayer; no such Cartesian-like distinctions are made. This ancient Eastern tradition is similar to a relatively new trend in the West-ern liturgical movement which stresses the use of public liturgical prayers for private prayer. The scholarly jour-nal, Worship, has long stressed the value of liturgical meditations. We are not always conscious of the fact that much of our Western liturgy is an existential prayer, existential because it addresses God in the "here-and-now." For. Orthodox Christians there are no logical dis-tinctions between private and public prayer, just as for them there are no class or caste distinctions between monks and laymen. Husbands and wives, monks and nuns, all follow the same traditional and existential way of prayer. Love, not rules, is the focal point. Orthodox Christians do not feel that reading the Bible reflectively is a prayer, though they do not deny its value. Reflective reading often is predominantly a cognitive process unless the words are related to the feelings, fanta-sies, and senses of the "heart." Orthodox Christians re-gard their prayer as more of a total personal relationship to God, by praying "with the mind in the heart." At the risk of imposing Western categories on Ortho-dox spirituality, one might distinguish three forms of Orthodox prayer. First, bodily prayer which uses the pos-ture and the senses of the body. For example, one might bend his head so that his eyes can look at the place of the heart; he may try to become aware of his breathing in order to use its natural rhythm as an aid to concentration as he prays to God. Secondly, mental prayer in which the mind holds the "Word" in inward prayer, so that con-sciousness is expanded; thus one tries to center one's whole being on the "Word of God." And thirdly, there is the Prayer of the Heart. This last form of prayer is for Eastern Christians the highest form of prayer because in this way of praying the mind descends to the heart as it stands before God. The Orthodox feel that it is essential that the mind descend into the feelings and images of the heart during prayer although they realize that the heart, without the attention of the intellect, is blind. As St. Makarios of Egypt (4th century) said: "Descend into thy heart and there do battle with Satan." Thus the mind of the person descends into his heart to view his feelings, fantasies, and sensual experiences in order to choose those which are truly good and oppose those which are not. This process is different from that advocated by some western writers like Tanquerey. This process also pre-supposes a deep psychological openness to oneself, a non-defensive consciousness. Unlike many Westerners, the Eastern Christian does not try to use his intellectual constructs to keep the mind from the heart. Rather, he worships God with his heart and feelings which are, hope-fully, known by his mind. Thus the body and the inter-nal senses play a positive role in prayer, as it can in higher forms of Yoga. The conscious use of the body, as in dancing, could play a more important role in prayer and in the liturgy of the West. The purpose of the Jesus Prayer is to fill one's whole consciousness with the name of Jesus, just as St. Francis of Assisi spent a whole night in prayer rqpeating ever more deeply the Lord's name. Ideally, the head and the heart are thus united; conscious unity in the person is the goal of some modern psychologists and theologians. For example, the psychologist Carl Rogers describes the ide-ally "fully functioning person" as one who knows, exis-tentially, what his "heart" (or organism) is saying, and he can talk about his inner experience if he chooses to do so. The theologian, John S. Dunne, in his A Search [or God Prayer of the Heart VOLUME 29, 1970 823 ~. O. Mean~ and St. Mar]orie~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in Tim.~ and Memory also stresses the value of a unity of thought, feeling a.nd action in the person, " ' .~ Through the centuries physical~ "exercise~ ~ind disci-plines such as fasting have been used to affect one's sciousness. In prayer, exercises and inner discipli.nes can" be used. to concentrate, one's being on the n.ame of. Jesus. But. one great danger in "prayer" is that words, or thoughts can be compulsively repeated, being motivated by unconscibus inner conflicts;, thus "prayer" could, be used defensively to avoid an inner growth of. conscious-ness and love. As in some forms of Yoga, the Jesus Prayer can be associated with the natural rhythm of breathing. Thus, this Hesychast"method of prayer uses the natural, not [orced rhythm of breathing or the .heartbeat to aid total intellectual and emotional conceritration on the name of Jesus; just.as a Westerner might use the beads of'a rosary ti~ c0ncefitrate on a mystery. By using his breathing to concentrate on the name of Jesus, the person may thus bring prayer more deeply into his ~hole being. Sponta-neous and relaxed breathing is used to bring one's atten-tion repeatedly back to the name of Jesus, which is then psychologically associated with the breath (and life) of the person. It is important to realize that these physical exercises are regarded as an aid to, not~ an obligation of, prhy'er. The Orthodox know well that there can be no physical or mechanical means of acquiring grace. No bod' ily nor physical techniques can be an automatic method of obtaining grace. Furthermore, they do not recommend the use of this form of prayer without proper guidance, or Spiritual direction, because it can cause sexual arousal, or it could possibly damage the lungs or body, if forced o~ used incorrectly. Associating one's prayers with the natural easy flow of one's breathing, however, is'a way of aiding the mind to descend into the body and the heart,' in an attempt to offer lovingly to God one's whole being (emotions, will, and attention) in the name of Jesus. Some practical applications of processes similar to this way of prayer are described in J. M. Dechanet's Christian Yoga. This book is one example of a modern application of "ancient wisdom to prayer. He includes a discussion of practical techniques for the "Prayer of the Heart." "On the Three Methods of Attention and Prayer"'is a treatise often attributed to St. Simon the New Theolo-gian. It makes clear that .there are three ways of prayer. The first way of prayer, used by an emotional person, would stress primarily the feeling approach to God with-out much stress on reason. A second ,,~ay of,prayer would stress the intellectual approach with thoughts-fighting-. thoughts because that person is relatively unaware of his emotions. The third and preferable way is an integration which would have the mind consciously descend into the heart so that the person takes a conscious position toward his own internal emotions and fantasies in order to love God with his whole mind, his whole heart, and his whole soul In recent years many young Americans--like Franny in Salinger's Franny and Zooey---have come to know some-thing of the Jesus Prayer, although it may easily be mis-interpreted as a mechanical spirituality. Its appeal for modern people may be due to several factors: its Christo-centric theme, its Scriptural base, its simplicity. Many may find in this way of prayer a human expression of their adoration and love of God. Others may find in its rhythmic breathing a meaningful way of "physically ex-pressing" their spirit. So, like Yoga, Zen, and other modes of Eastern spirituality, Orthodoxy may offer to the West another approach to prayer, perhaps another way of help-ing us to find our way back to the Christian Spirit. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY AND SOURCES Arseniev, Nicolas. Russian Piety. London: Faith Press, 1964. Balthasar, Hans Urs von. Prayer. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1961. Berdiaev, Nicolas. The Russian Idea. New York: Macmillan, 1948. Chariton of Valamo, Igumen. The Art of Prayer. London: Faber and Faber, 1966. Dechanet, Jean Marie. Christian Yoga. New York: Harper and Row, 1960. Delmage, L. Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius. New York: Wagner, 1968. Diahonia, a journal edited by George Maloney, S.J. New York: Fordham University. Dunne, John S. A Search for God in Time and Memory. Toronto: Macmillan, 1969. Fedotov, George P. A Treasury of Russian Spirituality. London: Sheed and Ward, 1952. Hausherr, Iren~e. "La m~thode d'oraison h~sychaste," Orien-talia christiana, 1927. Loyola, Ignatius de. The Autobiography of St. Ignatius. New York: Benziger, 1900. Johnston, S.J., William. "Dialogue with Zen," Concilium, November 1969. Jung, Carl G. The Collected Worhs of Carl Jung, volumes 5 and 9. Princeton: Princeton University, 1968. Kadloubovsky, E. and Palmer, G. E. H. Early Fathers from the Philokalia. London: Faber and Faber, 1952. Kadloubovsky, E. and Palmer, G. E. H. Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart. London: Faber and Faber, 1951. Mason, R.ussell E. Internal Perceptions and Bodily Function-ing. New York: International Universities Press, 1961. Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain. Unseen Warfare. London: Faber and Faber, 1952. Philips, Dewi Z. The Concept of Prayer. New York: Schocken, 1966. Prayer " o] the Heart VOLUME 2% 1970 825 Richardson, A. Mental Imagery. New York: Springer, 1969. Sofrony, Archimandrite. The Undistorted Image. London: Faith Press, 1958. Stolz, Karl R. The Psychology of Prayer. New York: Abingdon, 1923. Ware, Timothy. The Orthodox Church. Baltimore: Pelican, 1964. .~. O. Meany and St. Mar]orle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JONATHAN FOSTER, O.F.M. Some Notes on Hostility and Fidelity: The Religious Presence One of the most masterful and insightful commentaries on human aggression dates from the years immediately following World War I--Edna St. Vincent Millay's poign-ant little play, Aria da Capo. In the work's "play within a play," two friendly and unsophisticated shepherds under the direction of a stern stage manager set out to play a game in which they innocently build a wall between them and say "that over there belongs to me and over here to you." The game soon becomes deadly serious, however, and their friendship quickly deteriorates into suspicion and mistrust. At one point in the game, Thyrsis has a moment of sanity and beseeches Corydon.: "It is an ugly game. I hated it from the first. How did it start?" To which Corydon replies: "I do not know . I do not know. I think I am afraid of you! You are a strangerl I never set eyes on you before." Their fearful insight into the tragedy of their situation does not hinder them, how-ever, from plunging head-long into the "game" which ends in their mutual killing of each other for what the other has. The essence of the tragedy of human existence there-fore, as seen by Miss Millay, is the deterioration of trust. When man do not deliberately break trust with each other, society can be sweet and peaceful, as the shepherds in the play experienced it. For in the beginning, before the "game," they agreed in simple joy to "make a song about a lamb that thought himself a shepherd." But when .the wall goes up--and in the play it is only a streamer of tissue paper that Corydon cannot even find when he staggers toward his dead friend in his death agony--ignorance and misunderstanding build large, + + 4. Jonathan Foster is a member of St. Joseph's Franciscan Seminary; P.O. Box 449; Oak Brook; Il-linois 60521. VOLUME 29, 1970 827. ]. Foster,~ O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 828 tricksome images that cast dark and suspicious shadows over the land. And it is when we encounter these suspi-cious shadows that:we begin to experience hostility, and too frequeritly this hostility bristles into violence. I would like to suggest here that the situation dramati-cally Conceived in Aria da Capo is .r~pidly coming to characterize the whole of American society and that the current easy attitude toward vows in religious life is con-tributing to this situation. ¯ There is an unease in the land, an .unease that increas-ingly expresses itself in polarized movements, bristles with hostility for its counterparts, and, with a regularity t.ha.t is ~c~asing to. ast.onish; b.reaks out into violence. The reason for this is hardly a simple onE;°but one of the most important factors, I believe, is the demise of trust under-lined by Miss Millay. It has long been known that violence, especially as carried out by children, is the mindless response to a betrayal of trust by those who should above all have been trustworthy--parents, brothers, sisters, friends. Most psy-chotic violence among grown-ups too is explainable in terms of betrayal and subsequent alienation. It is.not too much to suggest that the unease drifting through our country, the. increasing prickle of hostility, the growing threat of mass violence is largely a projection on a na-tional scale of this same betrayal o~ trust. There certainly has been such a betrayal in our public institutions. Our government and political leaders have been. found to be insincere so often and so damagingly that they, have generated powerful counter-political movements based on an-idealism that seeks to actually do that which government and presen( politics only profess tostand for. Business and labor time and.time again have been found out to be playing dirty games behind the bright chintz of public relations, advertising; and noble sentiments. The curtains have been jerked back a few times too often on all levels of education, to reveal admin-istrators and teachers .with their thumbs stuck in a few unsuspected pies. Even the hallowed judicial system has been seen to be as petty and partial as ward-heeling poli-ticians. Bishops and religious leaders with almost monot-onous regularity put on masks in the same dressing rooms with government,, and more and more of their subjects are sbe, ing under the make-up. ¯ Perhaps all this insincerity is not as new as it seems. But what is certainly new is the great number of people who know: about it. Mass journalism and historical schol-arship have had much to do with this public breast-bar-ing, "telling, it like it is," debunking and stripping down even ou~ heroes. And so, I suggest, the great question that expresses the malaise of. our society is: "Who ;can you trhst?" Th~ cynical crack is mor~ and more the language of the land. More and more like-minded'groups, search-ing for trust, turn within and band together. The result is fraCtionalization, polarization, hostility, violence. "I do not know you" becomes "I do not trust you." But this is hardly the whole story. As if it were not engugh that the public institutions of our, society are found not to wash under their public robes, we are facing now the deterioration of trust in the private institutions of our society. Personal rel~itionships 'of all kinds ,have B~en affected by the erosion of trust. The vows of mar-riage, "till death do us part,"'ard taken with increasingly l~gs seriousness. In the steady-dating relationship, too, boys and girls enter into quasi-matrimonial and even Sex-ual relationships, the basis of which is not ~rust, but usefulness ~ind convenience. But where this relationship is easi!y deceived into thinking itself meaningful, the no-torious "Playboy" relationship cynically strips away all pretense and encourages partners to enter the most trust-oriented of all relationships with the most callow mo-tives. And the infamous generation gap is not created just by misttnderstanding. It is created as much by the parents using this deepest and most responsibility-bearing rela-tionship as a means for their own advancement. Finally, there are religious vows. In the past history of religious life, the value of the vow for. society was preemi-nent. Today what is becoming of supreme value is the relevance of the vo;v for the individual religious. And if the taking of the vow, or the keeping of it even for a specified time much less for life, is similarly restricting, then it is not taken, or it is broken in view of some other commitment. The priority of the individual in the reli-gious taking of vows has become paramount in our day. What we are failing to understand at this point in the pendulum swing of religious commitment is that reli-gious life is perhaps the last social institution in which fidelity and trust are basic and honored, and that this perhaps says something about the witness of religious life in contemporary society. The absolute centrality of promises to the preservat~ion of the quality of human existence has been strongly stressed b);' various authors, bi~t none has made the case more' strongly than the philosopher, Hannah Arendt; In her book, The Human Condition, Miss Arendt pinpoints two factors essential to the preservation of~ life from chaos. The first is forgiveness, or the undoing of mistakes of the past. The second is the faculty to make and keep promises. The first obviously deals with the past. The second concerns the future. The ability to make promises and keep them builds on the reality.of forgiveness, and Mi~s Arendt always keeps the two together. But for our VOLUME 29; "1970 ' "" 829 ]. Foster, O.F.~I. ~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 830 purposes here, we must look especially close at what she says about promise. The making of promises is an expression of one of the most ancient needs of man. In fact the two great institu-tions of western society were built on promises. The Jew-ish- Christian religion grew out of the covenants of Abra-ham with God. And the Roman empire built a legal system on the inviolability of agreements and treaties. This is not surprising. For man's experience of himself in history has revealed a twofold "darkness." The first is his inability to rely on or have complete faith in himself: The second is the unpredictability of human events. And so man, both to insure his own survival and to make his society an increasingly hospitable one, from the very be-ginning has gone out to his fellowman in promise and covenant. He has come to rely on and count on his fel-lows. Promise is what holds society together and staves off barbarity, barbarity both in the forms of totalitarian domination and in the unstructured freedom of anarchy. Although Miss Arendt's primary purpose in treating the faculty of promise is to show that it lies at the very foundation of society, she does not ignore its value for the growth of the individual, which she sees in the con-text of the preservation of one's integrity: Without being bound in the fulfilment of promises, we would never be able to keep our identities; we would be con-demned to wander helplessly and without direction in the darkness of each man's lonely heart, caught in its contradic-tions and equivocalities--a darkness which only the light shed over the public realm through the presence of others, who con-firm the identity between the one who promises and the one who. fulfils can dispel" (The Human Condition, Doubleday Anchor Books, p. 21B). Promise combines with forgiveness, as Miss Arendt sees it, to form the basis of morality. For "these moral pre-cepts [forgiveness and promise] arise . directly out of the will to live together with others., and thus they are like control mechanisms built into the very faculty to start new and unending processes" (p. 221). It is here also that she stresses the creative and life-sustaining force of forgiveness and promise. For if we could not forgive mis-takes and if we could not re-establish firm bonds through promise, then society would be trapped by the "law of mortality" and would steadily wind itself down to death. Forgiveness and promise together make newness con-stantly possible. And as such they are the foundations for the Christian view of life--faith and hope: faith that is fidelity to the convenant, and hope that is created both in this fidelity and in forgiveness. What is important, I think, about Miss Arendt's com-ments is that they place the taking and keeping of vows not in the context of what it can do for the individual but rather of how the taking of vows enters into the very bloodstream of human society. She speaks eloquently of promise as confronting the "darkness" of human exist-ence, of staving off "ruin and destruction," of the "mira-cle that saves the world." She also cites Nietzsche's com-ment that promise is the very distinction which marks off human from animal life. It is precisely to this larger context therefore that we must shift some of our discus-sion of religious vows. Far from being an anachronistic kind of slavery exercised by religious orders to maintain their survival, religious vows must be seen, in Miss Arendt's perspective, as an expression of man's striving not only for survival, but for dignity as well. To further emphasize this perspective, we must focus very precisely on the kind of promises religious make. It is not a promise to complete the transaction of a deal, to run a hospital, to cook forever, or just to do anything. It is a promise to be, and as such a deep commitment and trust. We can forgive someone who does not keep a prom-ise to do something, and we can perhaps survive in a society in which this failure to deliver is relatively fre-quent. But how much can we tolerate of a society that ¯ does not keep its promises to be? When people make great commitments of personal loyalty and then opt out in large numbers, what effect, we must ask, does this have on society at large? And when they go a step further, frequently in justification, and refuse promise at all, or make expressions of loyalty that are weak, decidedly ter-minal and often vague and open-ended, what, we must fnrther ask, effect does this have on society? Does it weaken the ties between men? Is this abandonment of covenant intensifying in a' way that has not occurred to us at all the increasing lack of trust and rising hostility in our society? Does it raise again on a new front, and per-haps the last one, the question: "~¥ho can you connt on?" I suggest that religious have a serious responsibility to raise these issues. They are perhaps the last people in the world in which the free offering of total loyalty has been taken for granted as a matter of policy. Because of this professed commitment, they have been witnessing some-thing to the world, namely, that it is possible to be loyal and trustworthy on a grand scale. They have advanced the ideals of mankind a great milestone. And now sud-denly they have reversed this witness, first in practice, now in theory. The anger and resentment, shock and frustration of many people over the vast exodus from vows, now settling into a flat cynicism, comes as no sur-prise. Religious cannot simply dismiss this anger and cy-nicism with the comment: "They'll get used to it." This may very well be the tragedy we can least afford~that men should get used to it. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 831 ¯ Perhaps then if there is any validity tO these questions another dimension must be added to the mission of reli-gious today. If, as Miss Arendt suggests, the power of making and keeping promises is our bulwark against chaos or repression, if, as Nietszche asserts, fidelity is what distinguishes us from animals, then the question of vows is not merel.y a question of the internal life of a particu-lar community or of individual religious. It is joined to the very issue of human survival. My suggestion, then, is that as religious weigh' the relevance of taking of not taking vows, of their leaving or dissolution, to the per-sonal fulfilment of the individual religious, they also seri-ously discuss again the impact this same taking or aban-doning of vows has for society at large. The problems of the individual religious in an institute that he or she feels is inhibiting or irrelevant or itself unfaithful to its own profession are real eno.ugh to us. They have preoccupied religious for the past several years. But what about this same religious in relationship to a world in which indi-viduals and groups are drifting further and further apart 'because of the decay of trust and faithfulness? Do not religious perhaps have a mission here too? Today most religious orders, in their renewal, are concerned about "going out to the ~orld," trying to be relevant. It would be most ironic, not to say tragic, if what the world most needs, trust and loyalty, were precisely what religious are s'o busily unpacking and heaving overboard. ]. Foster,~O~F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 832 KATHRYN LINDEMANN, O.P. Toward a Definition of "Communi " The problem. During the past few years there has been much debate among American religious concerning "community." "What is community?" and "What do you mean by community?" are two frequently heard ques-tions. This article does not attempt to totally resolve these questions since any further "total solutions" would only add to the present confusion. This paper does attempt to disentangle the discussion and to introduce clarifications which, will make resolu-tion possibl~. To this end it begins with a consideration of the present state of the issue. Then there is a non-po-lemic exposition of the meaning of "community" as found in current literature. Finally there is an indication of some still unanswered questions concerning "commun-ity" which seem important for continued progress toward a clear definition of "community." ¯ .4 first inquiry and a prol~ered solution. The fact that American religious are asking about "community" seems to indicate that they are aware of confusion and are seek-ing to remedy it. Confronted by this confusion, a normal query is: Why such a difficulty concerning "community"? One proffered solution has been to postulate something about the word itself~some attribute which defies defini-tion. "Community," like patriotism, becomes a Wittgen-steinian "slogan word" which is too ambiguous for defini-tion. Such a proposal is both logically unsound and a breeder of irrationality. If one analyzes it, one finds: 1. It accepts the generalization: "If x is a slogan word, then x precludes definition." 2. The postulation is then argued: since the definition of 'community' engenders much confusion, "com-munity" must be a slogan word. Since slogan words are indefinable, then "community" must be indefin-able. This is viciously circular. It assumes what it claims to ÷ Kathryn Linde-mann, O.P., lives at Mr. St. Mary Col-lege' in .,Newburgh, N.Y. 12550. VOLUME',29, '1970 . ~ ÷ ÷ Kathryn Linde- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 834 prove. The statement of the generalization only acts as camouflage. If one wants to conclude that a slogan word is not definable, one cannot assume it is a slogan word because it is indefinable. In the practical order, the proposal leads to subjectiv: ism and a canonization of irrationality. If "community" is indefinable, then there is no procedure for discussing: what it is; what engenders it; what destroys it. Two indi-viduals have no way of ascertaining if they use the term with the same meaning. They are condemned to unknow-ing or subjectivism. Since rationality depends on com-monness, no rational procedures of discussion or decision are possible. Thus all those groups of American religious now committed to the conscious renewal of community can have no use for rationality in their endeavors. At best, community renewal needs to be relegated to some irrational force. A second proposal. The above is not the only possible explanation for the confusion concerning "community." There is also an explanatory avenue opened by the no-tion of the theory laden texture of terms. In Patterns of Discovery, Norman l~ussell Hanson explores the relation between theory and particular observations, facts, and terms. He contends that scientific observation, fact, and meaning are only possible within the context of a theory. Further, he holds that each of these three are theory determined. Thus, two men experiencing the same sense data of orange color patch moving upward through an orange tinted visual field at 6:50 a.m. Eastern Standard Time in Newburgh, New York, might observe two dif-ferent things. One operating in a Ptolemaic framework observes the sun rising. The other operating in a Coper-nican framework observes the earth turning. If each spoke of the "morning event," "morning event" would have, in a certain sense, a different meaning for each.1 Hanson often cites such theory determination of termi-nological meaning: If, in the blank pages of a next year's diary, we find the word 'fire' in the place reserved for St. Valentine's day, no action would suggest itself. Consider another man shouting 'Fire'; but now he is in uniform, hovering over a busy gun crew. Were we members of that crew, our response would be automatic . In other contexts 'fire' might herald a worker's dismissal, or the entrance of a Wagnerian soprano amid pyro-technics. It can signal a phase in the making of pottery, de-scribe how an actress reads her part, or designate some primi-tive rite . 'Fire' has, in each situation, a propositional force; it is shorthand for complex statements whose nature is clear from the contexts of utterance. We are not born able to recog-nize such contexts., for that we need education.2 X Norman Russell Hanson, Patterns o] Discovery (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1965), pp. 7-8. 2 Ibid., p. 63. And again: When the youngster says 'lightning and thunder' he prob-ably means 'flash and rumble.' Again, a lot may follow, but what follows for him is different from what follows for the meteorologist--for whom 'lightning and thunder' probably means 'electrical discharge and aerial disturbance.' 8 ~lpplication to the question of community. In order to see the relation of this theory laden texture of terms to the present confusion among American religious, one needs to know something of the recent intellectual his-tory of religious groups. Since 1949 there has been what Thomas Kuhn would call a "paradigm shift" in religious life.4 Any comparative study of congregational constitu-tions of 1949 and 1969, of the 1949 and 1969 issues of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, or of books dealing with the theory of religious life from that span of years, gives multitudinous evidence of this paradigm change. In this paradigm shift, the term "community" is one which has been strongly affected. It has moved from a peripheral to a central position and has acquired a new extension. This change in "community" cannot be considered in isolation from the total theory of religious life. The change in meaning actually occurred as a result of changes in other areas of the theoretic system. A change of perception concerning certain areas made for new ways of seeing many other areas. And as the whole theory changed, each specific term was affected. Having noted the theory-laden-texture of terms and the fact of paradigm change in religious life, one can now locate reasons for the present confusion concerning "com-munity." These reasons are embedded in two specific fea-tures of the theoretical change among American religious. First, the change has not been a single-stroke event. Sec-ond, the "new theory~' has not yet reached stasis. First, the change in the religious life paradigm has not been a single stroke event. It is a process event whose history can be mapped. See Figure I. Given Theory A (the paradigm at n) and the innovations (I . I5), one finds a transformation in theory during stages n+l. n+5. The first outlines of Theory B become evident at stage n+5. Most often, one thinks of the theory only at stage n (theory A) or stage n+5 (theory B) since at these stages the theory is in stasis. These two stages represent "para-digms" as Kuhn refers to them and the change from paradigm A to parad@n B is a "revolution" in the Kuhnian sense. It is a fact, however, and one at which ~ Ibid., p. 61. 'Thomas Kuhn, The Structure o] Scientific Revolutions (Chi-cago: University of Chicago, 1962), pp. 43ff. ÷ ÷ + "Community" VOLUME 29, :970 835 Theory elements oO OoOo oo\o o\ o o -o n n-'l-1 n÷2 n+3 n÷4 n-~-5 Figure ] 4. 4. 4- Kathryn Linde. mann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Kuhn hints several times, that the intermediary stages exist.5 Now, as is normal in the innovation and diffusion o[ ideas, all members o[ religious congregations do not ac-cept theoretic innovation or revision at the same rate.e Since the acceptance of theoretical innovations is not simultaneous and universal, different individuals within the total population o[ religious may be in different ~tages of theory revision at any given time (n+l. n+5). Since terms are theory determined, such members, being at different theoretic stages, mean different things by " com~munity." Since the dynamics of any change are seldom pondered at the same time as the change is occurring, given reli-gious are usually unaware of the specific theoretic stage they are in. Further, they may not realize that theirs is one stage in a process continuing toward a new paradigm and stasis.7 Thus, one has the situation in which individ-uals will notice that there .are apparent differences in meaning concerning "community" (or a number of other ~ Ibid., pp. 84-7, 89, 128-9. e Everett M. Rogers, Diffusion of Innovations (New York: Free Press, 1968). ~Note, for example, the many expressions of conviction among religious that there will never again be a stasis in religious life or theory. terms such as prayer, apostolate, or common life) but will be at a loss to either: articulate the differences with any precision, or to explain the differences through an enun-ciation of the theory which determines their meanings. This is a major source of the confitsion concerning "com-munity" at the present time. . Second, it is not until a theory approaches stasis that all the relations among particular elements are enunci-ated with any precision. To the extent that this precision is absent, there is an inescapable vagueness about any term endemic to the theory. Most congregations have enunciated the major outlines of the new paradigm in their constitutions. Yet all refer to their constitutional documents as interim or experi-mental, and all expect to produce a more finished prod-uct in a few years. Congregations have built in a time span for working out the practical and theoretic interre-lations among various elements,s The new paradigm is not yet articulated with full precision, and so a certain vagueness concerning a key term such as "community" is inescapable. Until this full precision is reached, a certain confusion will remain in the meaning and use of "com-munity." Summary. The theory laden texture of terms proposal succeeds in answering the first query concerning the why of the present confusion about "community," whereas the indefinability proposal did not. This theory laden texture notion indicates a double source of confusion: the simul-taneous operation of multiple versions of theories within the groups and the lack of precision in the newest theory because it has not yet reached stasis. Having dealt with the first query, the study needs to move on to the next: "How is 'community' defined in the new paradigm among religious?" ~ What Is "Community"? Method. To avoid arguing some of the philosophical issues attendant upon "meaning," "definition," or "expli-cation" this paper will approach the problem a poste-riori. There will be an examination of the literature for religious to see what meaning is already established in relation to "community." From this information, there will be an attempt at precise definition or explication. The two paradigms. The general accounts of "com- S As established in Ecclesiae sanctae, au apostolic letter issued on August 6, 1966, by Pope Paul VI (reprinted iu REVIEW FOR REL~CIoUS, V. 25 (1966), pp. 939--70. ~The meaning of "community" in the old paradigm has re-ceived adequate treatment by sociologists, historians, and theo-logians. The elements of the new paradigm, however, have seldo~n been subject to collection and analysis. ÷ ÷ ÷ "Community" VOLUME 29, 1970 - 837 + ÷ ÷ Kath~ Linde- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS munity" diverge gr~eatly between the old (1949) and the new (1969) paradigms of religious life. Since a contrast often helps specify a complicated term, a general account of "community" as it appears in each of these basic theo-ries is presented first. When one studies old constitutions, those in effect in the forties and fifties, one finds: 1. The term "community" is rarely used. 2. When it is used it is capitalized as a proper noun-- denoting a particular (person, place or thing). 3. It seems to have a non-personal, "thing-like" quality common to collective nouns used in the "otherness" of the third person. 4. Sometimes the word designates a local group, while at other times it refers to an entire group. In the lat-ter instances, one mentally substitutes the word, "Congregation" or "Institute," both of which occur far more frequently in these early documents. Point four seems to strike the terminological core, for the meaning of "community" is primarily that of a hier-archical organization. Almost every sentence utilizing the Word "community" would retain its meaning if "organi-zation" were substituted. Further, the literary structure of these constitutions of the forties and fifties seems domi-nated by the organizational model. They set out goals; they cite organizational procedures for attaining the goals; and they define each person in terms of her role in the organization. They state the duties of the role (posi-tion in the organization), the prerequisites for possessing this role (be it that of an ordinary member or an officer), and the privileges of the role. The documents join a second model to that of hierar-chical organization. There is an interpersonal ideal of a familial society which is most compatible with that of a hierarcical organizational model. Officers are compared to parent figures. As such they ought to give and receive love and concern in a way which officers of an organiza-tion usually do not. Thus, in a unified model of hierar-chical- organization-family one provides an ideal for the lived situation of religious life. Newer constitutions, those of the sixties, present dif-ferent features: 1. "Community" is a common word; it appears time after time. 2. In most documents there is a definite distinction between community-as-organization and communi-ty- as-people. 3. Most, at least implicitly, deny "community" of the hierarchical organization model. "Community" de-notes, a primary group with strong interpersonal ties. This interpersonal notion is often extended to the congregation-as-community or the larger, civic, community. Although texts vary, the following is typical: Religious life is a loving community of free consecrated persons, sharing their lives, their worship, their service and their celibacy. A distinctive mark of the religious life is to be found in the fact that this living of Christ's life, this witnessing to His values, is lived corporately?° The function of a religious community is twofold. The first is to provide the climate for its members to grow to full stature as free persons in an ever deepening union with Christ, and for the sake of His Kingdom to be available to serve individually and corporately the needs of men. The second is to present a threefold witness in the eyes of the persons it serves: a living witness to Christ and His values, a sacrament of Christ's continued presence among men, and a sign of hope that community, which is the only mode of existence proper to men, can be a reality?1 When one looks for a model to explain this use of "community," one tends toward the community of scholars or St. Paul's my.stical body model. Religious community is the union of equals through interpersonal relationships. Each individual gives some service to the group: the serv-ice of authority, of information, of support, and so forth. Further the community itself is situated in relation to other communities. Religious community is always seen as a microcosm of the larger community of the Church and as such the religious community has an intimate re-lation to the People of God (Church) and the world com-munity.~ 2 Distinction. in terminology. Hence forward this paper will speak of the general account of community as found in the 1949 paradigm as "community1" and that in the 1969 paradigm as "community2". At present few religious make such an explicit distinc-tion. A single term, "community," is used for both mean-ings, although some religious are beginning to say that although both are called "community" only the 1969 paradigm expresses real community. Toward a Definition of "Community2" The term. In analyzing the common use of "community,;', one finds a distinction clearly made be-tween "having community2" and "being a community,". The latter is a wider term which necessarily includes the former. 10Sisters of the Third Order of St. Dominic of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, Religious Lile: Lived Reality (Grand Rapids, Michigan: 1969), p. 4. n Ibid., p. 10. ~ Yves M. J. Congar, o.P., "The Theology of Religious Women," REv~w for RELIGIOUS, V. 19 (1960), p. 26. ÷ ÷ ÷ " ommunity" VOLUME 29, 1970 859 ÷ + + Kathryn Linde. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Having community,". The instances in which the term "having community2" is clearly applied reveal three nec-essary elements: a group of persons, united in sharing "goods," and either a resulting witness to Christian values or personal growth of some members. First, intuitions may indicate the last (witness or growth) as non-necessary, but when one discusses specific examples with members of religious congregations, one finds a hesitancy to apply "community2" to anything lack-ing a result in witness or personal growth. Confronted by an example exhibiting the first two characteristics of (1) a group and (2) sharing goods, which lacks, however, the third characteristic of witness or growth, members tend to say: "Maybe the witness or growth was really there but you didn't notice it"; or: "If there was no witness or growth you only thought you had community, but you really didn't." Hence this third characteristic is included as a necessary element for "having community2",is In pressing for precision, one finds that each of these characteristics is a term with its own range or extension: I. group of persons--extends to all persons united in groups, ranging from the smallest group of three to the largdst number so designatable. 2. sharing goods--extends to all goods, both internal and external, which can be shared by humans. In the context of "having community2" at least one internal good must be present, but any number of additional internal or external goods may be present also. 3. witness or personal growth extends to (1) all witness to Christian values and (2) all growth in personal maturity. "Having community2" is the term applied to the event which occurs when all three of these characteristics inter-sect. More formally. One may say that "x has community," if and only if: x is a group of persons; and there exists at least one y such that y is an internal good and x shares y; and either x gives witness to Christian values, or there is at least one z such that z is a member of the group's union in sharing and z grows in maturity as a result of this mem-bership. "Being a community2". When one examines the use of "being a community2" by religious, several crucial cases reveal themselves: 1. If a group "has community.o" frequently for several 18One is struck by the difficulty of making empirical observa-tions of personal growth or witness to othe,~. Yet this is how the term is used by religious. This study proposes to describe, to cite extension of terms, not to evaluate them as "true to reality," "false to reality," and so forth. weeks but then illness or work prohibits this "hav-ing community2" for awhile, no one denies the .group still is a community. All consider the non-hav-ang of community as a temporary condition which does not destroy the being-a-communi.ty of the group. On the othei: hand, all agree that an absence of "having community2" continued for a long enough period, would negate the gr9up's being a community. 2. If a group lives together for some time but shares little more than their domicile, no one designates them as "being a community2". 3. Groups experiencing two or three instances of in-tense "having-community2" are assigned a status of "being a community2" equivalent to other groups which have eight or nine experiences of community on a much lower level of intensity. To preserve these designations of being a community, this researcher proposes a function, C: frequency of having community X intensity of having communityt4 the total duration (or proposed duration) of the group All items having a C result of at least 0.3 are described as "being a community2". They fall in the extension of the tenn. Thus one can replace the externally vague term "being a community2" with the clearly defined one of "any x, where x is an item having a C function of at least 0.3." Some criticisms o[ the above analysis. There is much lacking in this whole analysis. This lack extends both to the theological and to the empirical dimensions of the discussion. First, theological aspects, for example, the cen-trality of Christ in community, are not explored in this rather philosophical approach. Yet these aspects are most important parts of the notion of community. Second, em-pirical aspects are incomplete. The method of finding the intensity of community noted in footnote 14 is inade-quate. Also, there have been no empirical studies to jus-tify, for example, the choice of 0.3 as the limit for "being a community2". Indeed, there is a lack of precise data for much of this discussion. The Task Remaining ÷+ American religious need to continue to explore this + notion of "community." They need to listen carefully to 1, The intensity of community is a function obtained by assign-ing positive integers to the elements contained in the range of each characteristic necessary for "having community.". The product of these integers indicates the level of intensity of "having com-munity.'. VOLUME 29, 1970 841 what others are saying about community and to note exactly where their statements agree and where they dif-fer. And when they find that they differ, religious need to be willing to continue the discussion. They need to find the reason for the differences. Sometimes it will be a false difference caused by incomplete communication of mean-ing. in other cases there may be a real difference. When religious reach the point of finding the exact differences, they are then keady to begin the honest dialogue common to every discipline which is alive and healthy. Out of such dialogue can come a truer understanding of '~com-munity" and perhaps a revitalization of their communal living. Perhaps, too, such dialogue will result in the reali-zation that although "community1" and "community2" have appeared as opposing theories, they are not antitheti-cal notions. They describe two different aspects of the same phenomenon. The above is an ambitious plan for religious. It is also difficult. Yet real analysis, the foe of polemic, is not only difficult it is very necessary. Emotivity makes poor theo-retic justification, and no theory can claim reasoned alle-giance if its advocates are not willing to utilize the pro-cessses of reason. Kathryn Lind¢- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS RICHARD M. McKEON, S.J. Retirement Policy for Religious With an increasing number of people enjoying a longer span of life many religious should be alert to the fact that they too will hit the retiring age before they realize it. Yes, retirement for older religious is finally being recognized formally. To many retirement will come as a shock. They will think that they have reached tlae end of the line and that they will drift rapidly into the hereafter. It is time that all religious orders wake up to this new problem. They must have programs to acquaint their older members with all facets of what retirement means. In this respect a great deal can be learned from the world of industry where programs have been in effect for many years. Later we shall discuss some of these and try to apply their wisdom to our older religious. Superiors who are formulating programs must face this issue squarely. Why should the accumulated experience and developed talent be lost to apostolic endeavors merely because a certain age for retirement is at hand? Here is capital which should be yielding dividends. If older religious are forced to coast along waiting for Ga-briel's horn to summon them to give an account of their stewardship, that accounting will be harder to make. Time has value. Time lost is never regained: "Some secrets of the well-rounded retired life are these: make the most of what you have; wherever you are, go with your whole heart; keep your eye on what's coming up, not on what's slipping by; play your role with comeliness; do not let the minutes rust away" (Bank of Canada Monthly Letter, December 1967). It is presumed after long years in religion one has a true sense of values. Before retirement each one should assess his own possibilities and plan to achieve new goals. Many opportunities will arise to afford an active life within one's mental and physical condition. What do older religious in good health want? They Richard McKeon, S.J., teaches at Le Moyne College; Syr-acuse, N.Y. 13214. VOLUME 29, 1970 8~5 ÷ R. M. McKeon; Sd. REVIEW FOR REI~?IOU~S want to remain active and to do good as long as possible; to utilize their special talents; to receive the same respect they commanded in middle age. Rightfully they expect the functional policies and the traditions of religious life to be practiced in their regard. The older religious must be convinced of being heart-edly in earnest in what he can still do. Discouragement and difficulties will be challenges. He must have a firm resolve to carry on. If he has a reputation for special gifts, rightly may he expect others to approach him. To quote the Talmud: "If you see a man of understanding, get you betimes to him, and let your foot wear out the steps of his door." At least once a year, usually during retreat, he should make an honest appraisal of himself: "How is my health? Have I checked with a doctor? Have I reviewed my work of the past year to see what I have done well? What mistakes .have been made? What are my plans for the coming year? Have I determined to keep my mind alert, to keep feeding my mind by study so as to contribute to my up-to-dateness and the germination of ideas?" Richard Butler, O.P., warns: "Those approaching old age should prepare themselves for the trial ahead by strengthening their faith, patching up the holes in their characters, stiffening their self-reliance, developing new and sustaining interests, discovering orientations of ac-tivity that will endure and will provide some amount of satisfaction for them" (America, November 19, 1966). Good ideas can be picked up from ordinary literature on retirement. For men and women who have been highly educated and employed in apostolic work it would be better to study what is going on in the field of indus-try and business. Special research studies on retirement have been made at the California Institute of Technology, the University of Michigan, and the University of Chicago. The Caltech report suggests "a model program and a variety of ways in which it can be adapted to different company situa-tions." These studies are recommended to religious orders which are preparing programs. A digest of the program at Esso will afford some help-ful suggestions. First, changes in life expectancy are ex-plained. Then it tells how millions in the over 65 age group are non-productive but still consumers. In a word, when a worker retires, he is no longer productive to the country, profitable to the company, and useful to himself. Compulsory retirement is explained together with the benefits offered through social security and pensions. But more accent is placed on the sociological problem--how the retiree can be active, fruitful, and constructive. Esso offers help and counsel to each worker to think through his new situation. The company "feels that retirement is something earned by faithful service, a form of 'graduation' into a new phase of life rather than a 'casting out' process. Re-tirement should be the opportunity for the employee to enjoy the fruits of his labors in freedom, leisure and relaxation as well as an opportunity to serve himself, his family and his community in ways not open to him dur-ing his working career." A year before the set date group discussions are held covering topics such as health, planning for the future, what has been done, and so on. Plenty of appropriate literature is available. Each prospective retiree is pre-sented with a copy of How to Retire and Enjoy It by Ray Giles (McGraw-Hill). The Wall Street Journal frequently publishes articles on how retired executives keep busy, Their prime motiva-tion is not to make money for themselves, but to help others in trouble. Although some go into real estate and others start small businesses, many of the best become consultants as a challenging occupation. They form com-panies to give their specialized skills to small firms which need professional advice. The Mohawk Development Service of Schenectady, New York, has an excellent record of over twenty-five years. It is composed of former General Electric Company executives who have pooled their talent and experience. At Wilmington, Delaware, a similar group of Du Pont managers is engaged in a variety of projects. Charles H. Kellstadt retired as chairman of Sears, Roe-buck in 1962. At 72 in 1970 he is chairman and president of the General Development Corporation, one of Flori-da's largest land companies. He took over when things were in very bad shape. Today the corporation is most prosperous. His goal is to do a $250-million business a year. Religious orders should become a, cquainted with the International Executive Service Corps. Here is a magnifi-cent contribution which American executives are making in helping developing nations to help themselves. Its work should inspire qualified older religious to do some-thing similar to aid the foreign missions. The ISEC is a non-profit organization with headquar-ters in New York. It sends seasoned executives to counsel companies in the poorer lands. There is no salary but travel and living expenses are assured. Within the past five years a total of 1244 projects have been successfully completed in 45 countries. Optimism and the challenge of difficult problems have ÷ ÷ ÷ R. M. McKeon, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 846 given these men a new interest in life. They work with the native managers, not over them. Their know-how is eagerly sought. Using tact and patience they guide local managers to realize their own great potential Helping others to help themselves, who in turn will help thou-sands more, is certainly a high type of social action. Sylvia Porter in her column for December 16, 1969 paid tribute to the IESC and then put the question which might be put to older religious: "Why couldn't the con-cept be brought back home so that men and women in this age bracket work as volunteers in the ghetto and rural poverty areas of our own land?'" Our religious could make a great contribution here. "Life is only exciting when you are contributing in the mainstream." Keeping in mind what retired executives have done, let us make application to religious. First of all, those who have been superiors for a long time are still human. With a fair record of successful management, there is danger that many will regard themselves as indispensable. Every undertaker will contradict this statement. They have bur-ied too many. But to former superiors retirement does come as a shock. In industry it is maintained that compulsory retire-ment is the only way to clear out executive deadwood. Many of us know that it is a very touchy to mention possible retirement to an old superior: "Top manage-ment generally considers the subject as unmentionable as bereavement." Older religious might take a hint from the remark of a wise judge: "Retirement implies at least part of the motive power must originate in the person whose status is to be changed. Children are put to bed---adults retire." They should also remember that once the tension of their past job is over, arteriosclerosis might hit them with a stroke. Older religious should find comfort of mind if they have done their work faithfully in the past. As the time for retirement approaches, there should be no real repug-nance in letting quaIified younger people take over. If those in authority had signaled out men with executive ability and given them opportunity for training, there would be less trouble. Let us be blunt. Formerly, older people were respected, their advice was sought for, younger folk delighted to learn of their experiences. No longer in positions of au-thority, they soon find they are being ignored. Take a retiree who is removed from apostolic action which domi-nated his past life. Now assign him to a house for retirees as has been suggested. His health is still good. His mind is alert. But there is nothing to challenge it. He begins to feel unwanted, morose, and he gradually loses interest in things with which he was formerly associated. In such a state of mind death is bound to come more rapidly. In many universities and colleges religious teachers must retire when they reach the same age as set for lay teachers. Without a proper program they may be placed in isolation, as just noted, with no demand for their services. Edward F. Heenan, S.J., has written that many religious groups "have been increasingly enticed to adopt the bureaucratic business model in an effort to more effectively operationalize their goals." Retirement need not mean the end of the road. It should be accepted as a challenge. It means an awareness of the personal ability of the religious to perform, to continue .productively, and to make older life worth the living for one's self and others. Longfellow has put this Challenge attractively: For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress, And, as the evening twilight fades away, The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day. In the past a religious, like any other active person, got recognition and identity for the work he was doing. He could possess a just pride in his accomplishments. By the same token, when he does special work as a retiree, he should receive due praise. Many religious are truly hum-ble. Nevertheless all men appreciate recognition for any job well done. It does boost morale. On the other hand, there is the problem of rejection. To feel rejected, especially by those with whom one was closely associated, often causes a heavy strain on the nerves. It can easily make an older religious irritable and upset his health. We maintain it is a fatal mistake to put a healthy, older religious in a home for retirees. It will depress him. With nothing to challenge a once busy person he will rapidly decline in health, mental and physical. For example, if a religious has been at a college for the past ten or more years before retirement age, then we hold there is really a moral obligation to keep him as a member of the community as long as his health holds up. Why? Because to separate him from the familiar atmos-phere where he knows his fellow religious and they know him, from his friends on the faculty and from people in the local community would be dreadful in its conse-quences. It is here that he can continue to do more good than elsewhere: "Familiar things and places are priceless as we grow older--make no mistake about that." Dr. Edmund V. Cowdry, Washington University, St. Louis, an authority on gerontology, states: "More impor-tant than any other single factor is the old person's need Retirement VOLUME 29, 1970 for a community of interests. Nature seems to have or-dained that those who abdicate from life socially will soon abdicate from life physically." Where should there be a better community of interests than in the house where the religious has been living for years? Father Heenan remarks: "The closer the community approaches the communal idea of integrating and providing for the needs of every member, the more successful the aging process." A bureaucracy might be more efficient but it would tend to depersonalize and estrange the members. A mature religious should know that leisure for pleas-ure's sake alone will not bring happiness. But there is that approved pleasure which comes from doing good to others, especially the less fortunate. Instead of the deceits of idleness there can be a modified form of asceticism. There can be early rising with sincere attention to reli-gious duties. Planning for and being prudently busy with the needs of others will improve health. Two qualities will help the retirees: "They do enthusiastically .what-ever they are doing, and they get deepdown joy out of very simple things." Accordingly it is very foolish to think that retirement means the cessation of activities and merely a vegetating process. Retirement should be dynamic. One must beware of tyrannical trifles which can enslave. Too much televi-sion with its many insipid programs can mark a mental decline. In the 1955 Governor's Conference on the Aging in New York it was held that "religion is the key to a happy old age because man is essentially a spiritual and social bbing. The aged turn to religion even if they have been lax in their youth." What, then, Of men and women dedicated to God, who now have the time and conveni-ence to make up for past neglect because of distraction in the workingday world? There can be a renewal of spirit-ual life and a practice of reparation to gain grace to face bravely the reality of their new status. Since Vatican Council II changes in training have been made to meet the needs of younger religious. They have been very frank about what they need to be effective in a challenging new world. By the same token, older reli-gious should be outspoken in presenting their needs and claims. That is why at the young age of seventy-three I am writing this defense. R. M. McKeon, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELI{;IOUS 848 SISTER DOROTHY COONS, B.V.M. Life Style Study: Convent Li g This study of the pattern of religious living as it is carried out in the various convents of the Sisters of Char-ity of the Blessed Virgin Mary was undertaken as a part of a series of such studies of modern religious living that have been made in the past five years (see l~vmw for I~LIG~OUS, March 1970). The instrument used was constructed by Sister Cather-ine Leonard with the help of the other members of the Commission on Experimentation and Research, espe-cially Sister Helen Thompson and Sister Mary Kenneth Keller. The latter was responsible for processing the data on the computer. Questions Examined Four major questions gave direction to this study: To what extent do the sisters living in the traditional con-vent life style feel that this is providing them with necessary support in community living? What are the topics of concern in these convents? ¯ To what extent is there satisfaction or dissatisfaction with the life style, and what changes would be desirable in the cases where there is dissatisfaction? What are some of the general characteristics of the local communities in the areas of common liturgical experiences, in living arrangements, and in financial arrangements? Group Studied The questionnaires were sent to approximately 1800 sisters living in 153 convents. Those living in apartments and the patients in Marian Hall were not included. A total of almost 1300 sisters from 151 convents responded. According to the number of years in the congregation, the respondents fell into the following categories: ÷ Sister Dorothy Coom, BN.M., is chairman of [BVM] Commission on Ex-perimentation and Research at Clarke College; Dubuque, Iowa 52001. VOLUME 29, 1970' 849 Years in the Congregstion Number Percent 0-4 23 1.7 6.6 10-19 953 19.6 20-29 231 17.9 30-39 273 21.2 Over 40 415 32.1 $i~t~r D~rothy REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 850 This distribution is similar to that of the entire congre-gation with the exception of the oldest group who num-ber approximately 42% of the total. To a lesser degree the groups in the 5-10+ years differ from the general distri-bution because it is in these age groups that most of those living in apartments fall. In 49 of the 151 houses 100% of the sisters living there responded; 136 houses sent responses from more than half of the sisters; 15 houses were represented by less than half; and two did not return any of the questionnaires. Support in Community Provided by Convent Life Style Certain items on the questionnaire were included to bring out the general characteristics of "community," es-pecially those which provide mutual support for those living together. These questions and the results for both the congregation as a whole and when subdivided accord-ing to years in the congregation are given in Table I. While there are differences in the percentage responses to the positive questions, on the whole they are clearly above the 50% levels, ranging from 91.3% agreement with "Sisters seem concerned for one another" to 73.9% agreement with "Sisters like to be together" and "Com-munication among the sisters in our house is good." There is a similar picture shown by the disagreement with such negative items as "Money is a source of ten-sion" and "Communi.ty life suffers because the sisters are out doing other things." There is a surprising degree of agreement on the items that reflect a supportive atmos-phere among the various age groups. Figure 1, for exam-ple, shows that there is a high degree of agreement among all age categories on the item, "Communication is good," and that the disagreement is slightly higher among those in the 5-9 and 10-19 year group. There is also a slightly higher rate of disagreement on the part of the sisters in the 5-9 years in the congregation on the item: "Sisters plan together or in groups things that the whole house will enjoy," as shown in Figure 2. On the other hand, one of the most significant items, "Sisters in the house seem concerned for one another," shows fairly uniform agree-ment and disagreement in all age groups. See Figure 3. On a somewhat similar item: "Sisters like to be together," the pattern of responses is different. See Figure 4. + + + % 100 75 50 25 0 [] Agree [] Disagree O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 1. Communication is Eood. % 100 75 5O 25 O, 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 2. Sisters plan to-gether. % lOO 75 50 25 o 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 3. Sisters seem con-cerned for one another. % lOOI 75 5O 25 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 4. Sisters like to be together. + + + Sister Dorothy REVIEW.FOR RELIGIOUS 852 The two items that would ideally be answered by disa-greement, "Money is a source of tension," and "Commun-ity life suffers because the sisters are out so often doing other.things," showed unexpected results. The similarity of the results for both agreement and disagreement as shown in Figure 5 suggests that, at least among those responding to the questionnaire, money is not the prob-lem that it is generally thought to be. Figure 6 shows a higher percentage of agreement on the item, "Commun-ity life suffers because the sisters are out so often doing other things," among the older age groups. While this might have been expected, the actual difference is not as great as could have been predicted. Topics of Concern It was hoped that areas of concern could be identified by the items that are frequently topics of discussion. These were found to cover the whole range of those sug-gested, with the following results according to frequency: % 100 75 5O 25 0 % 1 O0I 75' O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Years in the Community Figure 5. Money is a source of tension. Figure 6. Community life suffers because sisters are out so often doing other things. religious life (72%), world news (68%), house problems (68%), the Church (67%), problems of the larger BVM congregation (67%), students and their families (57%), peace and war (56%), and U.S. political issues (53%). Others were indicated as being topics of discussion by fewer than half of the respondents, with hair and clothes being in lower positions than the items of general con-cern in the world, in the country, and in the congrega-tion. Satisfaction and Dissatisfaction The question, "Given your preference, and the absence of any practical consideration that would require other-wise, would you continue to live next year under the same life style," was answered "Yes" by 947 sisters (73%) and "No" by 259 or 20%. Those who answered "No" were asked to check the form of living that they would prefer and the item most often checked was "More regu-lar daily schedule of prayer and house activity." This preference was indicated by. 138 or 10.7% of those an-swering, while the second highest condition checked was "With persons who are more congenial." The results of this section of the questionnaire were broken down in a comparison with the items that were thought to reflect "community" and the results seemed somewhat indefinite. In general, those who would prefer to remain in the same life style had higher "Agree" scores on the positive items and lower "Disagree" scores on those that were negative, and the opposite was true of those who wished to change life styles. For example, on the question, "Communication among the sisters is good," of those who would remain in the same life style, 77% agreed to the statement and 12% disagreed, while among those who would change to another life style 36% -I. + + VOLUME 29, 1970 853 ÷ .÷ ÷ Sister Dorothy REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 854 agreed to the statement and 54% disagreed. There were similar combinations of "agreement" and "disagreement" in the breakdowns of this item with "The sisters often plan together or in groups things that the whole house will enjoy," "Sisters in the house seem concerned for one another," and "Sisters in the house seem ~o like to be together." It is not clear to what extent these differences provide explanations for the desire to change life styles. There may be other explanations not touched upon by tl~is study. Characteristics of Local Communities Part I of the instrument was completed by the Com-munity Representative in each of the convents. No pat-tern of common prayer and liturgical experiences emerged. This might be due to the large number of un-answered items and to uncertainty in interpreting them. The most frequently checked item was "Celebration of the Eucharist" but the range of responses suggests that there were different interpretations to the question; for example, 25 Community Representatives checked "Sel-dom or never." This seems to indicate that there was uncertainty about whether it meant convent chapel or parish church, fora response of 100% daily celebration the Eucharist might have been expected. The rosary is still recited daily in 48 houses with an indication in 24 of them that most of the sisters attend. Vespers is said daily in 43 houses with 23 reporting that most attend. The changing pattern of prayer in the congregation is shown in Table II. Responses on the items concerning financial arrange-ments show the greatest possible variation in meeting most of the ordinary expenses. The sources include com-mon funds, personal stipend, parish, and school, and there were few items that did not fall into each of these. See Table III for items that are included, for the most part, in the three most general categories. Discussion--Interpretative Summary The study of the foregoing material and other details that were not included in the present report seem to provide a message of encouragement. It is evident that those who answered this questionnaire are, in large meas-ure, content in the convent living life style and that they feel their living situation provides them with the condi-tions for personal support that are necessary for Christian community living. A further reason for encouragement lies in the fact that, with few exceptions in the 5-19 year groups, there is no marked disagreement among the var-ious age groups in the congregation. Examination of the results of individual convents TABLE II Frequency and Attendance of Rosary and of Communal Prayer as Reported by Comraunity Representatives k,- Occ~-[Se)do=/ ~ost ~ ] Pew "__._~_~" ~ '_____~_~ s ionMl~y N eve_~_r A tten~ A tten~ 2tte2d Communal Prayerl~l~l~[~l~l~[- ~ TABLE III Methods of Meeting Ordinary Expenses as Shown by Responses of Community Representatives Common Fund Personal Stipend Both Common Fund and Personal Stipend Board/room Per capita Cook Mass stipends Gifts Insurance Spiritual reading books Household expenses Education Medical and dental Clothing Personal travel Entertainment Toll/long dis-tance telephone calls Non-prescription drugs Home visits Memberships/dues Refreshments other than meals Books other than spir-itual Carfare Use of car Professional travel showed great variation in tendencies toward general posi-tive and negative impressions. At this time, no definite score for rati

Abstract: Transcription of Utah International shareholder's meeting to finalize the merger with General Electric. The meeting took place December 15, 1976. Speakers are Edmund Littlefield (EL), Bruce Mitchell (BM), Charles Travers (CT), and seven unknown speakers labeled by number as they appear. Also, when the audience speaks as a group, it is labeled All. This document is transcribed verbatim, with a few changes included to provide clarity. December 15, 1976 Transcript: EL: I see we are playing to a packed house and I would like to suggest that there is a whole row of seats down here in the front that we would be glad to have you come use. Well good morning ladies and gentlemen, would the meeting please come to order. Welcome to this special meeting of the shareholders of Utah International, called for the purpose of considering the proposed merger with the General Electric Company. I am Edmund W. Littlefield, Chairman of the Board and Chief Executive Officer. On my left are Alexander M. Wilson, President and Chief Operating Officer and Director, and Bruce T. Mitchell, Secretary of the company. It is my privilege to introduce to you the other members of our board of directors who are here today, Alf E. Brandon, Senior Vice President of the company; Val A. Browning, Chairman of the Board, Browning; Thomas D. Dee, Vice President of First Security Bank, Ogden, Utah; William R. Hewlett, President of Hewlett-Packard Company; J. B. Ladd, President of Ladd Petroleum Corporation, a subsidiary of the company; Arjay Miller, Dean, Graduate School of 2 Business, Stanford University; Paul L. Wattis Jr., President of Wattis Construction Company; and last and certainly by no means least, a gentleman who's served on this board for fifty-six years, Marriner S. Eccles, former President and Chairman of the Board of the company and now Honorary Chairman of the Board. [Applause] Thank you. These gentlemen, together with the two of us on the platform, who you met earlier, constitute the Board of Directors. Unfortunately, Ernest C. Arbuckle, Chairman of the Board of Wells Fargo Bank and our host for this meeting is unable to be with us today. Fred J. Borch, George Eccles and Bill Kimball are also unable to be with us. Ernie, unfortunately, is undergoing some surgery at this time. We also have with us today representatives of Arthur Anderson, our auditors, Pillsbury Madison and Suite our counsel, and Lehman Brothers and Dean Company, and our investment brokers are also present here today. I now ask the secretary to report on the notice of the meeting, the presence of a quorum, and other matters relating to this meeting. BM: Mr. Chairman, there are available the following documents: 1) A list of the stockholders of Utah International Inc. as of the close of business on October 29, 1976 being the stockholders, entitled to notice of and to vote at this special meeting. 2) An affidavit of the company's transfer agent to the effect of written notice of the special meeting was mailed to each stockholder entitled to vote more than twenty days before the date of the meeting as required by Delaware general corporation law. 3) A signed registration of all stockholders and proxy holders 3 present at the meeting. Management proxies received and other proxies who are personally present represent more than the majority of 31,540,032 shares of stock entitled to vote at the meeting, and constitute a quorum for the transaction of business. This meeting is accordingly properly called and constituted, and is empowered to proceed as a special meeting of the stockholders of Utah International Inc. EL: Thank you, the Board appoints Mr. J. B. Nelson and Mr. Swineheart of Utah International Inc. and Mr. Dennis Conco of the Crocker National Bank, inspectors of election to inspect assigned proxies and credentials presented to the meeting and to conduct a voting to receive and count the votes and to determine the results of the meeting. In the notice of the Special Meeting in the attaché proxy statement, the only item of business to be considered by the stockholders is a proposal for the adoption and approval of the agreement in plan, the reorganization and agreement of merger as amended by which Utah International Incorporated will become a wholly owned subsidiary of General Electric Company. The secretary is requested to submit the resolution which has been prepared for this purpose. BM: Mr. Chairman, the resolution is as follows: resolved that the merger of G. sub of Delaware Inc. with an end to this corporation as set forth in the agreement and plan of reorganization dated as of April 1, 1976; as amended by an amendment dated as of August 13, 1976, attached are annex one and annex two respectively, and the agreement mergers set forth as exhibit A to said annex one to the proxy statement dated October 29, 1976, and mailed to stockholders of record at the 4 close of business on October 29, 1976. Also included are the terms and conditions of the purposed agreement and plan of reorganization as amended, along with the agreement of the merger, providing among other things, for this corporation to become a wholly owned subsidiary of General Electric Company, and the mode of carrying such terms and conditions into effect; as well, the manner and basis of converting the shares of common stock of this corporation into shares of common stock of General Electric Company, as therein provided be and hereby are, approved. 1: Mr. Chairman, I'm a stockholder and I would like to move the adoption to resolution. EL: Thank you. Is there a second? 2: Second. I hereby second the motion. EL: Thank you. It has been moved and seconded that the resolution which the secretary has read be adopted. The affirmative vote of a majority of the outstanding shares of the corporation will be required to carry the motion and adopt the resolution. Before opening the matter for general discussion, I would like to make some comments. This is a special meeting of the shareholders of Utah International Incorporated. It is special in two ways, first in the statutory sense in that it is not a regular annual meeting, but calls specifically to consider and act upon the merger of Utah and General Electric. It is also special in the sentimental sense in that it is destined to be the last public held meeting of this fine company whose antecedents go back to January 1900, when its 5 predecessor was incorporated with six shareholders. When the business of the day is done, Utah International will be merged with a single shareholder. General Electric has of record some 529,000 shareholders, Utah 23,000. These are located in fifty states and in many foreign countries. The actual number of shareholders is far greater. For often the shareholder of record is a broker or trust department of a bank acting as a nominee for many, many shareholders. You received a rather weight proxy statement. If the proxy material required and printed for the Utah and General Electric shareholders meetings today were stacked one on top of the other the pile would be over three and a half miles high. If the individual pages were laid end to end these would cross the continental United States three and three-quarter times. The proxy statement contains, and it's a hundred and seventy-six pages, considerable detail of the terms of the merger, historical financial and operating information of both companies, formal statements of the merge company and other information which the Board of Directors of the respective companies and or the Securities and Exchange Commission deem pertinent and appropriate to put before the shareholders so they may arrive at an informed decision. The merger has been recommended by each Board of Directors. It has been examined on Utah's behalf by the investment banking firms of Lehman Brothers Incorporated and Dean Whitter and Company Incorporated. Each of whom has expressed the opinion that the exchange ratio is fair and equitable to the shareholders of Utah. The same information has been put before the shareholders of General Electric, who met today, this morning, in Stratford, 6 Connecticut at 9:30 AM eastern standard time and they have approved the merger. The Utah shareholders have also considered the merger, and the company is in receipt of proxies representing over 86% of the shares issued and outstanding. The proxies have been instructed how the shares are to be voted and as a consequence, the outcome of the voting on the proposals before us has already been determined and from a practical standpoint, nothing we can say or do here will in fact change that. Even though the outcome is ordained I have no intention of conducting these proceedings in a perfunctory manner. Many of us in this room have devoted most of our working lives to the furtherance of the fortunes of Utah International and we come to today's proceedings with mixed emotions. We recognize and stipulate that it is in the best interest of the Utah shareholders and its employees, that over the years we have given much of our substance into making this company what it is today. We are proud of our handy work and I believe properly so. We do not intend to let this moment pass into history, without noting these accomplishments and recording the concerns that caused us to believe that a merger between these two great companies would serve the best interests of the shareholders of each. Let's pick up the story twenty years ago when the company had 257 shareholders, some 2,400 employees and gross revenues less than 43 million dollars of which 76% was derived from performing contract construction. The stock was traded over the counter at a book value of $1.12 a share and trade from a low of $1.18 to a high of $1.51. That year the company earned 4.2 million dollars or 16 ¢ a share, and paid a dividend of 4.9 ¢ a share. With that as a 7 starting point let us examine the progress that has been recorded. Gross revenues grew, not always steadily, but over the years have climbed to over 944 million in the last fiscal year. The composition of these gross revenues has changed as the nature of the company has changed. Until we sold our heavy construction assets in 1969, construction was the major source of gross revenues. With the sale of construction assets to 1969, and the dredges in 1971, mining became and remains overwhelmingly the dominant business of the company. Gross revenues from land development have been on the decline. More recently through the acquisition of Ladd Petroleum and other companies, gross revenues from oil and gas have become a significant item. As our business grew, so have our earnings, from the 4.2 million earned in 1956, earnings have risen to 178.8 million dollars the past year and have set record highs in each of the last 12 years. In only three out of the last twenty years have earnings been lower than the preceding year. Earnings have increased from 16 ¢ in '56 to $5.67 this year and the dividend has gone from 4.9¢ to $1.15 this year. As the company grew and prospered the stock was listed on the New York Stock Exchange. As you can see the number of shareholders has increased very substantially. Inevitably, death and taxes forced the estates of some of the long time shareholders to bring shares to the market. The company sold convertible debentures to obtain funds for expansion and conversion of these debentures, and our merger with Lucky Mc, Ladd Petroleum and LVO have also contributed to the increase in the number of shareholders. There has been some modest decline in the number of shareholders since the acquisition of LVO in 1974, but 8 today we still have almost 100 times as many shareholders as we did twenty years ago. The increase in the number of employees required the conduct growing business of the company has not tracked the change in either gross revenues or net income. Construction is a labor intensive activity, while mining is capital intense. Our employment peaked in 1958 at 12,000, dropped sharply when we sold our heavy division assets, but has gradually expanded as the company's mining activities have grown rapidly. Our mineral sales backlog was insignificant twenty years ago, and even ten years ago was only about a sixth of its' size today. Nevertheless, the creation of the mineral sales backlog was and is an important aspect of Utah International's character and one that distinguishes it from most other mining companies. Very frankly, when we were embarking upon the rapid expansion of our mining business, we had neither the capital, nor the credit to finance the growth at the pace we wished to pursue without resorting to forward sales of new production to strengthen our credit. We made a virtue out of a necessity and today Utah's mineral sales backlog has grown from a modest 1.1 billion dollars in '66 to 6.1 billion dollars today. 96% of this backlog is represented by long term contracts with escalation clauses protecting against future cost changes. It was the existence of this backlog which in considerable measure excited investor interest in the shares of Utah International and caused the price of the stock to increase dramatically over the years. From a low of a $1.18 in 1956, the stock has closed at a higher price than the preceding year in sixteen out of the last twenty years, including the $65 price of the stock on October 31 the close of this 9 last fiscal year. In the early years, the stock sold close to its' book value. Again, in the early years, price earnings ratios on the stock were also modest, generally below twelve times the earnings. As the investing public came to realize the growth, earnings and the qualities of those price earnings ratios rose and remained for several years in excess of twenty times earnings, until the last few years, when investors have not been willing to accord so high a multiple for Utah shares, nor in fact for virtually shares of all other growth companies. Those who have invested in Utah shares and maintained faith in its management and its future have fared well. Earnings have grown at the compound rate of 19% for the last twenty years, 23% for the last fifteen years, 28% for the last ten years, and a startling 37% for the last five years. If you had invested a thousand dollars in the stock in 1956, you would have received in the interim dividends of $4,291, and the stock would have appreciated to $42,900. If you had made the same investments, but reinvested your dividends in Utah shares at the last price for each of the ensuing years, your $1,000 investment would have been worth $69,800 at the close of fiscal 1976. While I have not attempted to research the matter thoroughly, certainly there are few, if any, companies who have served their shareholders so well and so consistently in a period measured in five year, ten year, fifteen year or twenty year spans. Why then would a company who has so outstanding a record consider a merger even with the best of companies? The reason lies in the changing nature of the company's business and the source of its profits, present and prospective. Twenty years ago the company derived 87% of its' gross revenues from North 10 America, Later, even though we were heavily involved in contract construction outside North America, our gross revenues were well balanced for most of the time during the last twenty years. Ten years ago, only 8% of our mining revenues came from outside of North America, but this has been changing drastically in the last six years. As the next slide shows, 1976 witnessed 74.3% of the gross revenues earned outside North America and only 25.7% within North America. All of our land development and oil and gas gross revenues are earned within North America, but today only 22% our mining gross revenues are earned within North America and only 13.6% in the United States itself, far more significance, in my view, than the source of gross revenues or the sources of gross profit and other income. In the remarks that follow, I shall refer to this income account category simply as gross profits, but please consider it includes income from affiliates, joint ventures and partnerships as well as the gross profit earned by the parent company and its subsidiaries. This figure has grown from 8.7 million dollars in '56 to over 353 million dollars this past year. In the earlier years, the share provided by affiliate companies like Marcona and Cypress Pima, joint ventures and partnerships was a significant factor in the total. Reaching a high of 51% in 1967, but earnings from these sources have not been significant the last two years, dropping to a half of 1% in 1975 and actually producing the loss of 9 million dollars in 1976, the decline being primarily the result of the ill fortunes that have befallen Marcona. Mining has become increasingly the source of the company's gross profit. As you can see, ten years ago in 1966, mining contributed 31% of 11 the total of 22.7 million dollars gross profit, while in 1976 it contributed 344.7 million dollars or 97% of the gross profit and other income of 353.7 million dollars. However, it is not the concentration of gross profit and mining that so concerns us as it is the concentration of mining gross profit in a single commodity in a single country. Let's compare gross profits in '66 with those of '71 and those of '76. The well diversified business we enjoyed in '66 and indeed even in '71 has given way to a growing concentration of earnings from coal. Not only was our business increasingly concentrated in coal, but the earnings potential was increasingly concentrated outside North America. Earnings from North American sources provided 56.4% of gross profits in 1966. This has followed the 7.7% in 1975 and 14.2% in 1976 when the sharp increase in uranium increases did boost North American income. However, this trend toward increasing concentration of earnings from metallurgical coal produced in Australia is likely to continue for two probable reasons. The first indication is found in the mineral sales backlog which total 6.1 billion at the close of '76 with 71.3% of this related to future production outside of North America and 69.3% represented by metallurgical coal. The second reason this trend is likely to continue comes because of the undeveloped reserves that we have in hand. Certainly, one of the companies most promising investment prospects is the new metallurgical coal mine called Norwich Park in Australia, and we have abundant other coal reserves in the Queensland area that can and should be developed in the future using both surface and underground mining methods. Pursuit of our most promising prospect will make Utah less 12 diversified rather than more diversified and more dependent on Australia for the major share of its' gross profits and its' futures growth. I repeat that this concentration of mining was not in our view in and of itself alarming, but the composition of the mining gross profit and the concentration coking coal produced in a single country, and so primarily is a raw material for the steel industry in Japan and Europe, was too much concentration of risk for our company standing alone to bare. We cannot, and we should not, be so dependent on either a single commodity or single country no matter how solid either or both now appear. The attitude of the Australian government when the Labor Party was in power was a matter of extreme concern to us and this concern was no doubt deepened by having Marcona's assets in Peru expropriated by the government. We have great confidence in the people and political institutions of Australia and in the present government, and we are proceeding to increase our investment there because we have the coal reserves to do so and an attractive investment opportunity. However, with this abiding faith in Australia, in our view, this concentration of earning power in a single country and in a single mineral is too great a risk to be born alone, either by the shareholders of Utah or the employees of Utah whose livelihood while employed or in retirement are necessarily deeply affected by the fortunes of Utah International. This concern about the concentration of Utah's earning power was evidently shared by the investment community, which no longer was willing to assign a price earnings ratio of twenty-six to twenty-seven times earnings that prevailed in 1971, 1972 and 1973, but dropped the ration to 13.9% in 1974 and 13 to 13.3% in 1975. Thus we found ourselves faced with a paradox of having both our earnings and our dividends sharply increasing and the price of our shares flat and failing to respond. Certainly in these circumstances it seems only prudent to seek diversification of this risk. There were two broad courses that could be pursued. The first was to go on an aggressive acquisition program and seek to acquire other companies. This course of action posed considerable peril. First, the magnitude of the assignment was mind boggling, even if we were to attempt to reduce the risk to say roughly 50% and on the assumption that we could acquire other companies at ten times the earnings, we were faced with the necessity of attempting to acquire in short order, assets of around 1.5 billion dollars. Obviously, any effort to do this in the mining field would very quickly bring us under attack from the Federal Trade Commission or the Department of Justice. This in turn meant that we had to seek these investments outside the field of our expertise and in areas of business we knew little or nothing about. We were almost certain to make mistakes along the way. All in all the prospects of trying to diversify by a series of acquisitions seemed an unpromising and even perilous course to follow. The other broad path to diversification was to seek merger with a company already diversified, but the company had to be large enough to digest a 2 billion dollar bite. This narrowed the field. There are indeed companies larger than General Electric, but none so well diversified nor in my view so ably managed. 14 The risks that were of concern to Utah International standing alone were not the least unreasonable to take when the assets of General Electric and Utah were combined. General Electric is one of the largest and most diversified industrial corporations in the world. It is engaged in well over a hundred different businesses and in most of these it occupies a leading position in the market it serves. These businesses range from consumer items to capital goods, from fairly simple and well known technologies to the most advanced technologies required for aerospace and the jet age. While General Electric operates in more foreign countries than does Utah, its' business is far more oriented to the domestic market, and the merged company will be nicely balanced between domestic and foreign operations. There will be no undue concentration of merged company. Out of the merger, the Utah shareholders will in my view be exchanging the prospect of a faster rate of growth with its attendant risks in exchange for greater diversification, higher yield, and a premium on their shares as the other parties to the bargain. The General Electric shareholders will acquire assets with earning power and potential for growth that would indicate an increase in General Electric's earnings per share, entering into the natural resource business giving GE still further diversification and what I believe to be, although my views are obviously biased, the best mining organization and the best mining company in the world, each of the parties to the bargain is benefited. It is the biggest merger ever undertaken and I am confident that history will prove it to have been the best. 15 Before entertaining discussion of the motion that is before us, I would like now to introduce to you the principle officers of the company who are with us today and whose labors are responsible for the record of accomplishments that I have presented to you. First, Edwin C. Demoss, Senior Vice President Manager of Mining Division and newly named President of Lucky Mc Uranium Corporation, Ed Demoss; Keith G. Wallace, Senior Vice President Manager of Australia Division; John S. Anderson, Vice President Manager of Domestic Coal Operations: James T. Curry, Financial Vice President and Treasurer; W. Drew Leonard, Vice President of Corporate Purports and Internal Audit; Ralph J. Long Vice President Manager of Australian Operations; Charles K. McArthur, Vice President Manager of Metal Mining and newly named Manager of Mining Division; Boyd C. Paulson, Vice President Manager of Construction Services; M. Ian Ritchie, Vice President of Technical Services and newly Manager Operations Lucky Mc Uranium Corporation; Robert O. Wheaton, Vice President Manager of Exploration. Thank you. Nor would the list be complete without acknowledging that there are others in the audience that have made great contributions, but who are now retired. Let me ask those that I have spotted here to stand and be recognized: Albert L. Reeves, formerly Senior Vice President Secretary of the Director of the company, Albert; Orville Dykstra, Financial Vice President; Joseph K. Allen, Vice President; Weston Bourret, Vice President; and Charles Travers, Vice President. Thank you very much, and now the chair will entertain the discussion of the motion and will be pleased to answer such questions as we can regarding the purposed merger. Are there questions or discussions? If there is no 16 discussion of the resolution, if not the matter will… the meeting will proceed to vote upon the motion to approve the purposed merger with General Electric. 3: Mr. Chairman? EL: Yes? 3: Would you describe the status of the attitude of the federal government towards this motion? EL: What we did was to put the matter before the Department of Justice and asked in advance for their approval under the business advisory clearance procedure. While it was sometime in coming, it was forthcoming. To meet the concerns they expressed about it, Utah has agreed and has put its uranium assets in a separate subsidiary company that is now called Lucky Mc Uranium Corporation. When the merger becomes effective, the voting stock of that the company will be put in the hands of five independent voting trustees who will see to it that the company will elect the board of that company, and see to it that that company's affairs are conducted in a way that does not help GE in such things as the sale of its nuclear aspects. That company is not allowed to sell uranium to GE, but from the standpoint of the government we think we are completely in the clear. Any other questions? If not, any stockholder who is present who has not executed a proxy should raise his hand in order that the inspectors of election may give him a ballot, which he may now cast. If you have sent in your proxy you need not cast a ballot unless you wish to do so. Are there those that would like to vote in person? One here, one there, Boyd, one up here too. Boyd, 17 there's two in the back of the room, three. Will the inspectors of election proceed to collect the ballots? Those who have ballots would you raise them when they are completed so they can be picked up? Thank you. Over here Boyd. If the ballots are all collected would you please advise us of the inspectors report? Are you ready to speak to that? John, there's another one up here. You will bring them to me and I'll read the numbers, right. BM: Mr. Chairman? EL: Mr. Secretary? BM: The inspectors report that more than 27,147,464 shares of common stock of the company were voted in favor of the resolution and that not more than 200,456 shares of common stock were voted against such resolution. Accordingly, the purpose merger has been approved. When the exact number voted for and against the resolution has been ascertained, the inspectors will execute a certificate setting forth such number. EL: Thank you Mr. Secretary. We have acted on the business that was to come before the meeting. Is there any other business to come before the meeting? CT: Mr. Chairman, I would like to present a resolution at this meeting of these shareholders. My name is Charles Travers, I am a stockholder and I retired from the company. You've heard the view from the top. I think now maybe you ought to get the view from the ranks. The view from the top had to necessarily be 18 austere, maybe Mr. Chairman I can be a little more lighthearted. I started at Utah about twenty-four years ago. Mr. Littlefield hired me. I remembered the office in San Francisco as a very small office, very small and compact and you had to go in the front door, which was the only entryway, and there was a row of offices on your left as you walked in. Those were the executive offices. Mr. Littlefield's office was the first office as you came in the door and he assigned me an office down at a sharp right angle off the main corridor. I also remember as a young fellow reading Horatio Alger's book, Ragged Dick, and in that book the way it said to get ahead in business, one of the ways at least, was to get to the office early and beat the boss in if you could. Well I found that was a very difficult task at Utah. You had to go through the front door and Mr. Littlefield always kept his door open, his light on. The first morning was a Monday morning and I got in about ten minutes ahead of time. I think our starting time was 8:15, but Mr. Littlefield said hello to me as I came in the door. We went on through that week. I got my time narrowed down a little more each day. By Wednesday, I was down to five minutes to 8:00 and on Friday I got there at twenty minutes to 8:00 and Mr. Littlefield said good morning to me every time I came in the door. So that weekend I figured out that there was a better way to do this and I'd get in real early and I'd beat him to the punch. So on Monday morning, I got there twenty-five minutes past 7:00, I walked in the door and the office was dark there was no light on, the door was open and Mr. Littlefield was not there. So I went to my office and at 8:15 I came sauntering down figuring now this is where I get my punch line. He's going to see me going out the door, he's 19 there and I say hello to him this time first. I looked in, the light was on, but Mr. Littlefield wasn't there. So I walked over to his secretary and said, "Where is Mr. Littlefield?" and he said, "Oh, he went to Chicago." [laughter] He left on the seven o'clock train. With all that due diligence I figured we ought to get ahead pretty fast some way or the other. And so I waited for my first year. You had to be in the Utah profit sharing plan one year in order to get your first statement. I waited my first year and I got my first statement. I have it here with me and I'd like to tell you that the date of it is December the 15th 1954. That's exactly twenty-two years ago to this day and here is what it says, extract: "Seasons greetings. Utah Construction Company retirement plan based on profit sharing, December 15, 1954. Dear fellow employee, your account in the retirement plan based on profit sharing on October 31, 1954 stood as follows: balance on October 31, 1953, zero. Added during the year by income, zero. So October 31, 1954, zero. And then it says during 1954, the net profit earned did not reach the levels your profit sharing permits. Your company would be required to make a contribution to the plan." And then it says, "Despite the fact that it is not required to do so, your company through its management is desirous of sharing with you a portion of the profits earned during 1954. To accomplish this, the board has approved a contribution of $50,000." Then it says, "we're going to try to get the IRS approval for that, and if so we will contribute the $50,000 to your fund, but if not we'll have to pay your share in cash. If the amount is received by you in cash, you will have to pay income taxes on it. Your share of the $50,000 contribution would be $201.75." I was beginning 20 to think that Horatio Alger wasn't right after all, $201.75 for getting in all those first eighteen months at 7:30 in the morning didn't seem fair to me, but nobody quit. I didn't, management didn't. About three weeks ago, I received this news release from the company in the mail, it's dated as of December 3, 1976 and here's what it says in the first few lines: "Utah International Inc. reports record earnings for fiscal 1976, San Francisco. E. W. Littlefield, Chairman of the Board, reported today that Utah International earned $178,821,000 or $5.67 per share. This fiscal year ended October 31, 1976." We have come a long way since those days in 1954. But Utah had more than profits. It had the forward look. My view from the ranks runs something like this: Utah's profit sharing and incentive plans were way ahead of their time back in those days. Mr. Littlefield, to my knowledge, had a rare understanding of the corporations standing in the social structure, what the corporation's obligations were to society. Utah's mine lands were restored to better than what nature had them long before that became a primary concern of many people in the United States. Utah's mining operations were conducted on a basis of we'll go sell the merchandise and then we'll get the production and that reduced the risk very greatly. Even today, Utah's section on environment stands out as a very aggressive and important function that helps to finish the project properly in the eyes of the people of this country. Well, I could go on and spend many more minutes saying that, but I think it's time now for me to present my resolution and I would like to do that. Mr. 21 Chairman, I will give you a copy of the resolution so you will have it for the record and I would like to read the resolution. EL: Thank you, Charlie. CT: The resolution says resolve about the stockholders of Utah International Inc., meeting for the last time as public shareholders in San Francisco, California on this 15th day of December 1976, do hereby express their gratitude and sincere appreciation to Edmund W. Littlefield, Chairman of the Board and Chief Executive Officer; Alexander M. Wilson, President and Chief Operating Officer and the Director; Marriner S. Eccles, Honorary Chairman; and to all the officers, directors and employees of Utah International Inc. for their devoted services in behalf of the shareholders. 4: Mr. Chairman, I move the resolution. EL: Thank you, Mr. Travers. I must say Charlie, you always speak well, but you don't speak briefly. [laughter] I think that comes from attending too many meetings of Town Council in Alameda. The motion has been presented to the shareholders, is there a second? Thank you, I must say that those of us at this end of the room, I'm sure have an abiding faith and agreed with its sentiments, but since we do not control the vote. I will put it to vote. All those in favor please say aye. All: Aye 22 EL: Opposed? Thank you. Thank you very, very much. And thank you Charlie. [applause]. There's no other business, the proposed merger has been approved. I thank you. Excuse me. 5: On behalf of all of the stockholders, I wish to thank all of the officers and directors of Utah International for having worked so well for us. I also think at this time, it would be appropriate to bow our heads in silence for one minute in memory of E. O. Wattis who was founder of Utah International and also for all of those who worked and lost their lives to make the company what it is today. Amen. EL: If you would amend that to include all of the founders the chair will entertain it. On the assumption that it is so included, we will so do. Thank you. With the merger approved and not further business, I'll entertain that motion to have the meeting adjourned. 6: I'll back the motion. EL: Thank you, is there a second? 7: Second. EL: All those in favor, please say aye. All: Aye. EL: Opposed? Thank you, the meeting is adjourned. ; This is a myriad of items throughout the UC/UI collection. It includes the minutes of the stockholder's meetings with both Utah International and General Electric, correspondence, a reel-to-reel tape of the merger meeting and the official merger documents. ; 4.25 x 6.5 - 8.5 x 11 in. handwritten or typed on paper ; Reynolds Securities Inc. Transamerica Pyramid 600 Montgomery Street San Francisco, Calif. 94111 Telephone 983-8000 Members New York Stock Exchange, Inc. and other leading exchanges Main Office 120 Broadway New York, N. Y. 10005 December 13, 1976 Mr. Edmund W. Littlefield Utah International 550 California Street San Francisco, Ca. 94104 Dear Ed: I regret that I will be unable to attend the meeting Wednesday because I will be in the East for a Directors meeting. This is an occasion that I hate to miss, but I am sure that many of your other happy stockholders will be there. Sincerely, Gerry Gerald F. Brush GFB: 1c

Issue 45.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1986. ; Direction and Reconciliation The Prayer of Being Responses to Rape The Key to Spiritual Direction Volume 45 N umber 6 Nov.IDec. 1986 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REVIEW FOR REt.IGIOOS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by REVIEW FOR REL~OOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $11.00 a year; $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVtEW YOn RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor Nov./Dec., 1986 Volume 45 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REviEw FOR REt.tGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVtEW FOU REHCmUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindeli Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print~ issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. The World Synod of Bishops: The Extraordinary Session of 1985 The Ordinary Session of 1987 Jan Schotte, C.I.C.M. Archbishop Schotte is General Secretary of the World Synod of Bishops. This article is based on his address to the Catholic Press AssOciation Convention, June 7, 1986, the text of which was first published in its The Catholic Journalist, July, 1986, pp. 5-8. ~n this article I will deal with what I have learned, during the past~months since my transfer to the office of Permanent Secretary, about one of the youngest institutions of the Catholic Church, the World Synod of Bishops. When in the course of my remarks I intend also to say a few words about the relationship between the Synod and the media, please accept my contribu-tion as the expressio~n of a deeply held conviction that the media have a major role to play in the mission of the Chm:ch, and especially with regard to the Synod of Bishops. This conviction is based on my experience as a priest and missionary who has been privileged to serve the Gospel of the Lord and his Church in many different functions. I worked with the media as the briefing officer for French-speaking journalists in the 1980 and 1983 Synods of Bishops. In those days, I was somewhat biased in favor 0f media people. Today, as Secretary General of the Synod, I dare to hope that I still carry within me that same favorable bias. I will confine my remarks to.three areas. In the first place, I will share some insight into the preparation, the process and the final product of the Extraordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops, held in 1985. 801 802 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 Secondly, I will brief the reader concerning the next Ordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops on the theme "Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and the World, Twenty Years After the Second Vatican Council," which is scheduled to take place from October 1 through 30, 1987. Finally, I will offer some very tentative comments on the relationship between Synod and media, telling what the Secretary General of the Synod expects from the media, and at the same time expecting to hear from the media professionals, what they expect from the Synod Secretariat. I. The Extraordinary Synod of 1985 The Extraordinary Synod, which received more media attention than any of the previous synods, was first and foremost a Synod of Bishops-- just that, but totally that! What Is the Synod of Bishops? It is not easy to give a brief reply to this question. It becomes especially difficult when the person asking the question expects an answer in terms of civil or political administration. Is it a parliament, a Church senate, a private council of the pope, a mini-ecumenical council? Each of these bodies has some analogy with the Synod, but none is apt to explain the true nature of the Synod. The Synod is explainable only in terms of the interior logic of the Church, from within her structure and her life. Dealing with an ecclesial entity, a juridical-institutional explanation is not sufficient, but it is necessary to have recourse to the notion of the Church as mystery and as communion. The Synod of Bishops has become part of the life of the Catholic Church; we accept its existence as normal, undisputed. From 1967 onwards we have witnessed the synodal assemblies treating topics and arguments of great importance and attracting the attention not only of Catholics but also of many others. The Synod of Bishops has become one of the propulsion centers of the pastoral activity of the Church, introducing into its life the more important reforms called for by Vatican I1. We recall the 1967 Synod which discussed several topics: the basic orienta-tion for the New Code of Canon Law; orientations for the reform of semi-naries; mixed marriages; and institution of the International Theological Commission. The first Extraordinary Synod of 1969 contributed to the clarification of the role of the bishops' conferences their relationship to the Holy See. The Synod of 1971 againdiscussed two fundamental topics: one on the identity of the Catholic priest and the meaning of priestly celibacy; the other on The World Synod of Bishops / 803 social justice. The 1974 Synod was dedicated to the theme of evangeliza-tion. It was followed in 1977 by the Synod on catechesis. The Synod of 198Odiscussed the Christian family. The Synod of 1983 addressed the issue of reconciliation and penance. The Second Extraordinary Synod of 1985 evaluated the implementation and impact of the Second Vatican Council. Truly an impressive list for only twenty years of activity. Such fundamental and vast themes together with their links to the Council and the post-conciliar period suffice to show the growing importance of the Synod of Bishops in the life of the Catholic Church. It is an institution with connotations of universality, agility and topicality, which seeks to fulfill its role as Syn-odos, the "walking together" of bishops for the benefit of the universal Church and all humankind. The Synod of 1985 It is necessary to understand that any .session of the Synod of Bishops is a fruit of the Second Vatican Council, and an expression of collegiality and communion in order to fully grasp the meaning of that special event that was the Second Extraordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops, which took place from November 24 through December 8, 1985, on the theme: "The Second Vatican Council on the Twentieth Anniversary of Its Closing." In recent years, the Church has been subjected to surprises: the death of the smiling Pope John Paul I after only thirty-three days in office; the election of the first non'Italian Pope in four centuries; the vitality and charm of Pope John Paul II who travels to all continents and keeps drawing massive crowds of Catholics and non-Catholics alike. In some way, we have become used to such surprises. Despite all this, when John Paul II made his announcement of an extra-ordinary general session of the Synod of Bishops to evaluate the impact of the Second Vatican Council, the Church and the world were not prepared for this new surprise, so much so that immediately a full-blown debate started in the news media about the purpose Of the Synod, about the intentions of the Holy Father, to say nothing about the feasibility, of calling the bishops to Rome with only eleven months of advance notice. Yet this announcement was fully consistent with the personality and style of the Holy Father, and more especially in accord with his deepest faith convictions. It is no secret that John Paul II has a deep sense of his mission, and that he is constantly looking for ways and means to confirm in the faith his brother bishops and the whole people of God. We also know that he attaches great importance to significant gestures and symbols. We have learned that he is not afraid to face reality and tO assess situations with 804 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 utmost lucidity. All these factors taken together would have been sufficient to explain why he deemed it necessary to convene on short notice an Extra-ordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops, But there is more. John Paul II is a firm believer in the collegiality of the bishops and he is a convinced defender and promoter of the Second,Vatican Council. The Holy Father has always believed and continues to believe in. the Council, not for strategic ~r.easons but for reasons of faith. Vatican II was for him, who participated in all its sessions as a young bishop, an experience which deeply marked .his entire episcopate and pontificate. A faithful analysis of the unwavering support of the Pope ~for the Council seems the only serious and objective method for interpret!~ng the reasons behind the convening of the Second Extraordinary Synod .without falling into the trap of putting the Pope's intentions on trial or of expressing purely subjective judgments. The Pope could not have stated the objectives~of the Synod more clearly: to celebrate,and re-live the extraordinary spirit of the Council; to verify what has been done to implement the Councilteachings; to promote a deeper awareness of the Council and the application of its principles to present and future problems. To look again at the Second Vatican Council and to assess its implemen-tation was, for the bishops at the Synod, a massive program. Yet it was unrealistic to think that the Pope intended to review every single Council document in a comprehensive way within the twelve ~working days that were available. It was equally unlikely that the Holy Father had a further agenda, a hidden one, to throw into reverse the process of renewal initiated by the Council, or to use expressions from certain journalists, "to bury the Council," "to put the brakes on renewal," "to set the clock back," "to roll back the tide," or "to let theprophets of doom back in after they have been banned from the Church by John XXIII." Preparation of the Extraordinary Synod After the surprise announcement by the Holy Father, the General Secretariat of the Synod began immediately the preparation of this unusual event. N,Iy predecessor, the then Archbishop, now Cardinal, Jozef Tomko initiated a series of consultations with a number of bishops and theologians who had participated in all sessions of the Second Vatican Council. Some of those had played a role of primary importance, either as officers of the Council or as participants or experts involved in the drafting of the Council documents. They were asked to react to the three objectives indicated by the Pope and to formulate guidelines for a consultation of all the bishops' conferences. The World Synod of Bishops / 805 The fifteen members of the Council of the General Secretariat were called to Rome for a two-day meeting, March 14-15, 1985, to examine the answers to the preliminary consultation. It was then decided to mail a questionnaire to the patriarchs and metropolitans of the Oriental Churches, to the presidents of bishops' conferences, to the Union of Supefiors General and to the heads of the various departments in the Roman Curia. This questionnaire Went out on April 1, 1985, with a covering letter in which strong emphasis was put on the necessity for a consultation that would reach as many persons and levels of the Local Church as was feasible in so shol~t a time. It was felt that the opinions should be sought not only of the bishops and the experts of the Conference, but also of the priests, religious and laity at large. It was further stressed that the inquiry should try to focus on the major documents of Vatican II, without excluding any of the others. Th6re was no doubt that the debate in the Synod should focus on the nature of the Church and its mission: what is the inner reality of the Church? How does she see herself and, in the light of that perception, how does she organize herself? How does she relate to the complex structures and needs of the world? Such had been the original and genial inspiration of Vatican II itself; any evaluation twenty years later had to concentrate on those same questions. The answers were expected at the General Secretariat by September 1, 1985. However many factors contributed to delays so that the deadline was not respected. The General Secretariat had received only eighteen answers by September I. In the end, however, the result was quite satisfactory: 73.75°70 of the answers'(out of a possible total of 141) were received in time to be incorpo-rated in a summary which reflected the different regional realities, cultures and problems and which~ represented in an objective way the situation of the Church twenty years after the closing of Vatican II. Not every single response to the questionnaire had the same value or authority; some were very detailed while others remained rather schematic; some reflected the thinking of the bishops while 0thersdrew on a large grass-roots response; some had been fully discussed and formulated by the bishops in conference, while others were the work of experts or the secretariat of a conference; some replies reflected rather local concerns while others definitely attempted to see the problems at the level of the Universal Church. All taken together, however, gave a true image of the situation in the Church. I want to share with you a particular observation with regard to this consultation: the formal answers which we received were not the final answers! After the national hierarchies mailed in their submissions, reflection and discussion continued at the level of the single bishop or layperson as well as in the circles of experts, theologians and ecclesial groups or communio 806 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 ties. Many bishops arrived thus at the Synod with different ideas than those expressed in the answers of their respective Conferences. The Final Product The 1985 Synod issued two documents which I am sure you are all familiar with. I feel therefore dispensed from recalling the content of the "Message to the People of God" or of the "Final Report." I only want to clarify a few points. In the media, the fact of the immediate publication of the Final Report was highlighted as an unusual event. Some saw it in terms of a victory of the bisl~ops who wrested this concession from the Pope. The truth of the fact is somewhat different. Every Synod transmits the result of its exchange for consideration to the Holy Father in the form of a report or a list of proposals, or even by entrusting all relevant working papers to the Holy Father, who then decides in what form the results of the Synod will be made public. After the Synods of 1974, 1977 and 1980, the Pope published an "Apostolic Exhortation" in which he presented the results of the Synod. After the 1983 Synod on "Reconciliation and.Penance" however, John Paul II enlisted the collaboration of the bishops elected to the Council of the General Secretariat in preparing a "Post-Synodal Exhortation." During the preparatory phase of the 1985 Extraordinary Synod, many different possibilities for coricluding the Synod had been examined, and the Holy Father did not exclude any, postponing his decision until the Synod had finished its task. When the reports of the small language group~ were presented to the assembly halfway through the proceedings, it became clear that they contained a very rich material, reflecting a large consensus among the participants in evaluating Vatican II's impact and in proposing ways to promote its further implementation. It was then decided to ask the Rappor-teur to .try drafting a final report that would reflect the consensus and the richness of the contributions. This report was debated and finally voted upon. Separate votes were taken on eighteen different sections of the report, and the approval of each one was almost unanimous. In his closing r.emar~s, which followed immediately after the proclamation of the results of the final balloting, the Holy Father stated: Right from the beginning of this Synod, it has appeared clearly how much all those who. were called to participate in it truly shared in its objectives. The results of your work--contained in the "Message" and in the "Final Report"--are witness to your clear-sightedness and your diligent care as well as to your fine ecclesial sense . Therefore, with joy and with sincere gratitude I accept from your hands the "Message" and the "Final Report" which demonstrate this sense of communion: with my consent these docu- The World Synod of Bishops / 807 ments will be rendered public. May the Lord see to it that they bear abundant fruit. It is now your task to ensure that the great force and the awareness of the importance of the Council penetrate deeply into the Universal Church, into your particular churches, and into the various communities. With these words, the Holy Father indicated his approval for the publica-tion of the "Final Report," and manifested at the same time his profound sense of mission and of collegiality. What the "Final Report" makes especially clear is that the Second Vatican Council is the most important event for the Church in the twen-tieth century. The Council offered orientations and answers not only for the questions of the last twenty years, but for the problems of the future as well. The total richness of the documents of the Council, taken together and not separated one from the other, consists in that it explains what the Church is and how she must be Church in the world. The Extraordinary Synod exploded as it were a number of myths which got hold of the minds of many Catholics in the years after Vatican II, and which conditioned the implementation of the Council teaching. Allow me to list just a few. 1. The myth of the primacy of the pastoral over the doctrinal. The "Final Report" affirms: "Special attention must be paid to the four major Consti-tutions of the council, which contain the key for the interpretation of the other Decrees and Declarations. It is not licit to separate the pastoral character from the doctrinal vigor of the documents." 2. The myth of presenting the Vatican Council as a mere historical event, to be left behind as soon as possible in order to work towards Vatican III. The teachings of Vatican II, although looking at the Church and her mission in the light of the prevailing situation, remain valid because they recall funda-mental tenets of the faith and of the Church. 3.The myth of the contradiction between the teachings of Vatican I and Vatican H. The 'Final Report' states: "The Church is one and the same throughout all the Councils." 4. The myth of the preeminence of the spirit over the letter of the Council. The "Final Report" affirms: "It is not legitimate to separate the spirit and the letter of the Council." 5. The myth that pluralism in doctrine o f faith is the way of the future. The "Final Report" states: "The pluralism of fundamentally opposed posi-tions., leads to dissolution, destruction and the loss of identity." 6. The myth that human development is to be promoted without reference to the mystery of the Chu, rch. The "Final Report" says: "It is. necessary to put aside the false and useless opposition between the Church's spiritual mission and diaconia for the world." 81)8 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 7. The myth that any meeting of the world episcopate dissolves auto-matically into opposing camps of North versus South, of East versus West, of liberals versus conservatives. The openness of the debates and the fraternal spirit that was evident from the very first days of the Synod made manifest that there was complete unity. 8. The myth of the intended "'restoration, "" The Bishops affirmed: "The Synod has been for us an occasion which has allowed us once again to experience communion in the one Spirit, in the one faith and hope, and in the one Catholic Church, as well as in the unanimous will to translate the Council into the practice and the life of the Church." We leave to history the final assessment of the Extraordinary Synod of 1985. However it is not presumptuous to state that it was, in many ways, a truly extraordinary event in the life of the Church. The Ordinary Synod on the Laity, 1987 The Synod of Bishops reconvenes in 1987, in ordinary general session, to discuss the "'Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and in the World Twenty Years After the Second Vatican Council." Inevitably the bishops will return yet again to consider the nature of the Church and the responsibility of all baptized for her mission and ministry. The 1985 Extraordinary Synod has provided us with the right theological context in which to prepare for the Synod on the Laity. As you know, the Synod on the Laity was originally scheduled for 1986, The announcement by the Holy Father of an Extraordinary General Session of the Synod in 1985 made it advisable to postpone by one year the con-vening of the Synod on'the Laity. In so doing, the Holy Father acceded to a suggestion that was made by the many bishops' conferences who feared not to have sufficient time for a thorough preparation and consultation with the laity. The deadline for the submission to the Synod Secretariat of con-tributions by the bishops' conferences was therefore extended by six months to May 1, 1986. Not the First Synod on the Laity? The coming Ordinary General Session of the Synod of Bishops will not be the first that deals with the laity. A simple enumeration of the arguments discussed at the past Synods readily demonstrates the continuing and signi-ficant attention which the Synods have devoted to th& theme of the laity. Thus we had the 1971 Synod with its double theme of "Justice in the World" and the "Ministerial Priesthood." Both topics had a particular relevance for the laity: the first in that it touched upon the role of the Church in society--a privileged field of activity for the Christian laity, and the second The World Synod of Bishops / 809 which explored the ministerial priesthood in its connection also with the common priesthood of all the faithful. The 1974 Synod on "Evangelization" recognized and explicitly promoted the specific mission of the laity. It stated: "Lay people, whose particular vocation places them in the midst of the world and in charge of the most varied temporal tasks, must for this very reason exercise a very special form of evangelization." While the 1977 Synod on "Catechesis" stimulated further appreciation of the role of the laity, especially with regard to youth, even more so did the 1980 Synod in its presentation of the Christian family as the primary and basic form of secular vocation and mission in the Church. Finally, the Synod of 1983 recognized and promoted the task of lay people in the work of Christian reconciliation, which finds expression not only within the ecclesial community but also within human society. Reconciliation is not only a personal challenge for each Christian, but a corporate task for the laity. This summary listing of the topics of the Synods amply demo0strates how the Church, through one of her more important institutions, has taken to heart the deepening of her understanding of the vocation and mission of the laity. It could not have been different, since it was one of the major thrusts of the Second Vatican Council to enhance and promote the partici-pation of the laity in the mission of the Church for the salvation of the world. How Was the Theme for the 1987 Synod Chosen? After twenty years of existence, the Synod of Bishops has developed its own procedures and methods, which are all specifically "synodal." This applies also to the selection of a theme for the Synod. At every Ordinary Synod, towards the end of the proceedings, an open debate is organized on possible themes for the next Synod. The Synod Fathers then express their preferences, indicating at the same time why they propose one topic: rather than another. Already at this stage some themes emerge as being especially timely. Immediately after the closing of the Synod, the General Secretary con-tacts all the patriarchs and metropolitans of the Catholic Oriental Church, the heads of the departments of the Roman Curia, and the presidents of national and international conferences of bishops, inviting them to indicate a theme of their choice. This step is necessary since an Ordinary Synod con-sists only of a relatively small number of bishops, and it is imperative to hear from all bishops through their respective conferences. When all the replies have been tallied, the fifteen members of the Council of the Synod Secretariat are then convened to examine the material and 810 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 to formulate more adequately the themes that seem to emerge. Such a further step is necessary because many suggestions from the bishops' conferences will sometimes deal with the same general topic but under different aspects. The top three themes are then prepared for presentation to the Holy Father, who, as the President of the Synod, sets the agenda and determines the topics to be discussed. Up to now, the Holy Father has always been able to honor the results of the consultation, and has steadfastly chosen the theme that emerged as number one. "Vocation and Mission of the Laity in the Church and in the World, Twenty Years After the Second Vatican Council" was requested. The Holy Father, acceding tO this request, told the members of the Council of the General Secretariat on May 19, 1984, the following: It is not difficult to grasp the motives for such a convergence of opinion. In reality, the mission of the laity, as an integral part of the salvific mission of the entire People of God, is of fundamental importance for the life of the Church and for the service which the Church herself is called to render to the world. Among the different motives which have been presented in favor of the theme, the following can be singled out. Within the context of the specifically secular vocation and mission of the laity, there have been numerous posit.ive results and achievements, such as the commitment of many lay men and women in the area of human development, social justice, human rights, peace and international solidarity, politics, human labor and culture. There are also in this area a number of problems which require critical evaluation. Two tendencies which are prob-lematical and raise questions cannot be ignored. A first tendency concerns those among the laity who are so influenced by secularism and by the values, or non-values, of the world that they no longer see that their whole activity in the temporal order is necessarily linked with their faith. This is the case of those men or women who engage in social, political, economic or cultural activity and feel that the inspiration and motivation for their commitment must be found outside their faith. It is the case as well of Catholic public officials who in order to serve all their constituents assume that they must promote positions or norms of behavior which are in contradiction with their faith and their Catholic identity. Another tendency exists where Christians believe that they can carry out their mission by abstaining from any involvement in the problems of society. They withdraw into a purely spiritual or devotional world and close in upon themselves or upon the very private circle of any group or movement to The World Synod of Bishops / 811 which they belong. The Council has very clearly stated that "by reason of their special voca-tion it belongs to the laity to seek the kingdom of God by engaging in the temporal affairs and directing them according to God's will." The same Council also noted that "the laity can be called in different ways to more immediate cooperation in the apostolate of the hierarchy" and that "they have the capability of being appointed by the hierarchy to some ecclesial offices with a view to a spiritual end." In accordance with this conciliar doctrine, a more direct and wider participation of the laity in the pastoral activities of the Church came about. But together with this positive develop-ment, there exists also on the part of some of the laity a far more extensive and stronger demand fo~: access to various "ecclesial ministries." Not all lay participation in ecclesial ministries is without problems. In some local churches, one notices a tendency to restrict the mission of the laity to ecclesial ministries only. This can involve the danger of confusion with regard to the correct understanding of the respective missions of the clergy and of the laity in the Church. We thus see in some situations a real attempt at "clericalization of the laity," while at the same time we assist at the phenome-non of the "laicization of the clergy," when the latter take over the specific mission of the laity in temporal affairs by becoming merely social workers, or p61itical activists. These and other phenomena derive from a particular interpretation given to the vocation and mission of the laity in the Church and in the world presented by Vatican.II. If that interpretation is not correct, the vocation of the laity will not be ~ruly lived out, with the result that harm is done not only to individuals and groups but to the entire ecclesial community. The latter's credibility is impaired and its pastoral efficacy is restricted. It is therefore clear that the doctrine of the Council on the participation of the laity in the mission of the Church and on their own specific mission in the world must be studied in depth at this time. The Preparation of the Synod As soon as the theme of the 1987 Synod had been established, the Secretariat of the Synod invited the bishops' conferences, the Pontifical Council for the Laity and other representative bodies to submit their views on how to approach the theme. The answers were examined first by a task force of theologians, and afterwards by the members of the Council of ti;e General Secretariat. Following the indications contained in the answers from the bishops' conferences and the guidelines elaborated by the fifteen members of the Council, the General Secretariat then produces a preliminary paper called Linearnenta or "outline of the theme." 812 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 The Lineamenta has been sent to all the Hierarchies, not as a working paper for the Synod, but as a help for further study of the theme and for wider consultation in all Local Churches. The outline document is in no way--nor does it pretend to be--a complete and logically ordered treatment of the theme. Neither is it an outline or a draft of a possible future synodal document. It aims to offer a point of departure for analysis, discussion and reflection on the laity: on the doctrinal and pastoral aspects of the question, on values and needs, on achievements and diffict~lties. Its main aim is to stimulate discussion and help the Local Churches deepen their own thinking in. the matter. In the covering letter which accompanied the Lineamenta, the General Secretary insisted that the consultation not be limited to the bishops or to specialized commissions of the bishops' conferences. The letter strongly emphasized that the very nature of the theme, as well as the direct experience of those who fully live their vocation as lay Christians, demand a large scale consultation of the laypeople themselves. This consultation should not be limited to comments on the Lineamenta only, but should continue up to the opening of the Synod itself, so that the participating bishops can truly reflect the situations and expectations of the laity in their particular Churches. Past experience has proven that such a consultation can be a truly bene-ficial event for the Church. It can initiate a process of deeper awareness of all the faithful concerning their own baptismal vocation. In preparation of the 1980 Synod on the Family, the Bishops' Conference of France was able to collect fifty thousand answers from groups and families. Prior to the 1983 Synod on Penance and Reconciliation, the Bishops of Chile gathered twenty-five thousand answers from parishes and small ecclesial communities. The very process of the consultation cannot but have d profound impact on the life of the Local Church when it is carried out at all levels. In order to facilitate a consultation at the grass roots level, the Lineamenta was published in seven languages, and bishops' conferences have translated the document into many more local idioms. It has become one of the most widely distributed texts. At the end of the three chapters of the Lineamenta some questions have been formulated. The answers to the questions, duly synthesized at the level of the bishops' conference of each nation and supplemented by any con-sideration which the bishops themselves might add, will then serve as the basis for the "working paper" which we hope to forward to the future par-ticipants sometime before the opening of the Synod. As of May 1, the cutoff date for the submissions from the particular churches and bishops' conferences, the Secretariat had received answers to the questionnaire from a grand total of three conferences of bishops! The The Worm Synod of Bishops / 813 Extraordinary Synod has certainly interfered with the preparation of the Synod on the Laity. But I also feel that Synods which follow too closeiy must allow sufficient time for a thorough preparation in a way that the whole People of God can feel involved. When I left my office some days ago, the submissions had begun to arrive in larger numbers. Within the next month a Task Force of experts--priests and laity-~will study all the responses and prepare an outline for the working paper (Instrumentum laboris). The fifteen cardinals and bishops, members of the Council of the Synod's General Secretariat, will discuss and finalize ~the outline at the next Council meet-ing, October 8-11. It is clear that the preparation, of the Synod constitutes a unique chal. lenge but also a sterling opportunity for lay men and women to undertake an assessment of their own involvement as baptized Christians in the Church and the world. For the whole Church, it will be an occasion to deepen the understanding of the true nature of the Church on the eve of the Third Millennium of her history. It is an occasion that the Church cannot afford to miss. For Catholic professional media people, the coming Synod offers the possibility to look at their own involvement in the Church and in society, and to assess the role they are called to play as Catholics and as communi-cators. But at the same time the whole People of God, pastors together with the laity, must reflect on the sacredness of the communic~ator's vocation, charisma and ministry. I hope that the following remarks may somewhat contribute to this process of reflection on your part. The Synod and the Media The surprise announcement of the Extraordinary Synod and the relatively short time allotted for its preparation attracted right from the beginning an unusual amount of comment and speculation. Within the Catholic Church, some seemed to fear that the Synod would be used to point the Church in a new direction, signaling a kind of retreat from the principles and attitudes of the Second Vatican Council. Some, on the other hand, saw the Synod as providing an opportunity to identify and correct what they judged to be the mistakes and abuses of the past twenty years. Most however--and this contrary to the impression given by the mass media in the months preceding the Synod--accepted the Synod gratefully as an oppor-tunity to deepen their understanding of the Council, while others, of the younger generation, hailed it as a welcome occasion to discover for the first time in a deeply personal way the message of Vatican II. In spite of the clearly stated intentions of the Holy Father, a debate con-tinued to rage well up to and into the time of the Synod itself. Taking into 814 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 account that some media people have difficulty not to inject into their report-ing their own perceptions and biases, the future debate at the Synod was presented erroneously as a battle between liberals and conservatives. Some seeds of misunderstanding concerning the aims of the Synod may also have been found in the polarization which exists today within many sectors of the Catholic community concerning the nature of the Church and her role. Not a few h~ve retained a position which has not moved beyond the First Vatican Council, and see the Church almost exclusively in structural, institu-tional terms. They have not given enough weight to the work of the Second Vatican Council. They have failed to recognize the essential truth that the Second Vatican C6uncil does not contradict the First Vatican Council, but complements it. The primacy and infallibility of the pope, defined at the First, are not contradicted but developed further at the Second Vatican Council by a fuller consideration of the role and ministry of the bishops. The Second Vatican Council lays emphasis, then, on the collegiality of bishops, on their respon-sibility for their own dioceses and for the good of the Universal Church, on the true nature of the diocese as the Church of God in each locality, and on the dignity and calling of all the baptized. Part of the Church's task in the past twenty years has been to try to find ways of expressing these complementary truths of the First and Second Vatican Councils in struc-tures and attitudes that do justice to both. Inevitably we have failures as well as successes to look back on. But some people have never accepted that that effort had to be made. Others have failed to see how the Church relates to the modern world. In the past, some Christians saw nothing but threat and danger in the world. According to those, the Church stood apart from the world and tended to oppose, reject and condemn it. The Second Vatican Council taught that the Church must be open to the world, its aspirations and struggles, and seek to provide it with a soul and a conscience. Because of those and similar factors, some Catholics came to view the Extraordinary Synod as a moment simply of crisis or conflict. They failed to understand that there is a very real sense in which the life and work of the Church, of a Council as well as of a Synod, can only be seen through the eyes of faith. Many, however, and towards the beginning of the Synod they were a majority, acknowledged the true intentions of the Holy Father. This progres-sive acceptance of the objective and of the true nature of the Extraordinary Synod was the result of many converging factors. The Holy Father himself spoke repeatedly, on the occasion of the Angelus prayer on Sundays, of the teaching and orientations of Vatican II. Bishops, bishops' conferences, The World Synod of Bishops / 815 theologians and lay people engaged, everywhere in a process of further reflec-tion about the Council. Each in their own sphere and field, they began to take stock of where they stood and what ,they had done to implement the Council. And so it could be said that even before the Synod convened its objectives had already been partially achieved through a greater awareness of the total richness of Vatican II for the Church of today. The media interest during the Extraordinary Synod was exceptional. Over and beyond the two hundred fifty journalists with permanent accreditation to the Holy See, some four hundred ten correspondents from thirty-four countries came to Rome for the sole purpose of covering the Synod event. The media of the whole world followed the 1985 Synod with more interest than any of the preceding Synods. Never had the Church attracted so much attention since the days of Vatican II, not even during the Conclaves of 1978, nor even on the day the Pope was shot. The large majority of media professionals.~faithfully reported the true content of the proceedings and of the concluding documents. Wherever I went after the Synod, I was truly amazed at seeing how most of the people that I met had a correct knowledge and understanding of the Synod. And yet, some publications still keep hammering away at the so-called secrecy of the synodal process, at the insufficient briefings or press releases, at the reluctance of Synod officials to talk, at the exclusion of the journalists from the Synod Hall during the meetings, and so on. I will not endeavor to give a deta!led account of all that was done before and during the Synod in order to improve the flow of information. I can only pledge that Archbishop Foley and myself are determined not to put aside any legitimate suggestion that will contribute to better and more objec5 tive information. Today, I only want to share some general observations regarding the relationship between the media and Synod, hoping that those of you who will cover the next Synod may be helped in their task. 1. A Synod of Bishops is an event that must totally and specifically be seen in the context of the Church. Information on ihe Synod has to do with the image of the Church. When one speaks of the image of the Church, there is more at stake than "image" understood in a public relations sense. Something far more fundamental is at stake, namely the self-understanding on the part of the Church of her very nature and mission. Upon that self-understanding or "image" so much else depends, and, in the case that con-cerns us here, on it depends the understanding of the nature and functioning of a Synod of Bishops. 2. The Synod of Bishops is not an ecumenical council where all the bishops of the world, together with the pope, exercise directly and collegially the supreme authority in the Church. The Synod, as set out in the Code 816 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 of Canon Law, is a limited group of bishops who have been chosen from different regions of the world, and who meet at stated times with the pope-- normally every third year. The scope of such meetings is threefold: to fos-ter closer unity between the Roman Pontiff and .the bishops; to assist the Roman Pontiff in safeguarding faith and morals and in strengthening ecclesiastical discipline; to consider questions concerning the Church's activity in the world (Can. 342). It is the role of the Synod of Bishops to discuss the questions on the agenda and to formulate suggestions, but not to decide the issues or to issue decrees, unless the Roman Pontiff in certain cases has endowed the Synod with deliberative power, and even in this event, it is the pope's prerogative to ratify the decision (Can. 343). It is most important to be clear on this point. 3. It is important to realize that the Synod of Bishops is directly under the authority of the pope, who convenes its assembly, ratifies the election of its members and appoints other members, determines the agenda, presides over the Synod and brings it to conclusion (Can. 344). The Synod, then, is not to be seen as a kind of constitutional "check and balance" to the authority of the pope; it is most certainly not an alternative or rival authority; it is one means by which the bishops of the world are given an opportunity to collaborate with the Holy Father for the good of the whole Church. The bishops gathered in Synod together with the pope are not called to promote their own priorities. In listening to and in exchanging with their brother bishops from all continents, they try to achieve a consensus regarding specific recommendations which they wish to propose to the pope. While aware of the needs of their own particular Churches, they must view all questions from the perspective of the universal good of the Church, and thus give equal consideration to the situations prevailing in their own dioceses or nations, as to those of the most distant regions and peoples. 4. The synodal process is unique and cannot be compared with any other process of group dynamics. In a Synod, bishops come together in function of the episcopal mission which they received through sacramental ordination. A Synod will therefore always be first and foremost an event with a spiritual dimension. All through the days of a Synod, bishops open their hearts and minds not only to their brother bishops but to the voice of the Holy Spirit. They allow their convictions to be shaped by human reasoning, by speak-ing out and by listening, by dialogue and discussion, but above all by their willingness to accept the message of Jesus Christ, while together they fathom its depth and relevance under the inspiration of the Spirit. It is therefore normal that at the end of a synodal process bishops approve proposals and express ideas which they did not hold at the beginning, or which differ from what had been stated by their own conference of bishops before the Synod. The World Synod of Bishops / 817 The process of discernment is so essential to the Synod that it should not be made dependent on the ebb and flow of public opinion. That process would be hampered or even distorted if bishops were concerned more with posturing for the media back home than with the collegial search for insight and consensus. 5. Religious editors and correspondents are by and large professionals in the true sense: they know their business and they have a thorough under-standing of the business of the Church. However, time and again some media send to the Synod correspondents who have earned their kudos on the polit-ical scene but are mere apprentices when it comes to Church activities and religious events. The editor of a serious national newspaper or wire service would not dream of sending one of the staff to cover the tennis open unless he or she had demonstrated a solid grip of the intricacies of the game. Nor would a network dispatch to the Pentagon a reporter who has never heard about military strategy, tactics and hardware. And yet, at every Synod we meet media people who see in the Church nothing more than just another political convention or parliamentary assembly where all results are produced through a majority vote. They do not know that the magic of the majority vote does not work when it comes to the formulation of theological principles or moral doctrine! It is not fair to the professional integrity of journalists when they are put in a position of having to relate or interpret events and statements that are totally outside the scope of their qualifications. Goodwill and hard work are not always substitutes for expertise, knowledge and com-petence. A lack of knowledge about religious matters or Church affairs may lead a correspondent to discard whatever news or issue cannot be reduced to "material" or "secular" or "political" categories. 6. A Synod is also a good place to observe trends that are developing in the Church. The last Synods have clearly shown how the presence of bishops from Third World countries is becoming stronger and more influ-ential. Their voices are listened to with greater interest, all the more so since the churches in Africa, Asia and Latin America often present a picture of dynamic growth and joyful celebration that we so sorely miss in many of the churches in the Western world. The Church is no longer Eurocentric or Occidental. Yet among the journalists and correspondents at the Synod, the overwhelming majority comes from Europe and North America, a situa-tion that accurately reflects the distribution of media power in today's interna-tional community. As a consequence, churches in the Third World are almost totally dependent on secondhand information from western sources, except in the case of the few diocesan bulletins that have the good fortune of receiv-ing reports from their own bishops, faithfully composed at the end of each week during a Synod. 818 / Review for Religious, November-Decetnber, 1986 The situation of the Third World churches merits our attention. It is important, therefore, to become more fully aware of the information needs of the younger churches. Media persons should ask themselves whether some-thing more could be done by their publication, by their diocese, at the level of the national Church, particularly of such entities as the Catholic Press Association. It should not be too difficult to come up with some truly imaginative projects, such as sponsoring a religious correspondent from a Third World Church to theupcoming Synod, or organizing internships for young'journalists from Africa or Asia or Latin America who could accom-pany a Western staff to the Synodl These have the means, and I am sure also the motivation, to find a solution to a problem that cannot be solved by them alone, but that will never be solved without their help. I conclude my remarks. Every Synod of Bishops deals with some aspect of the truth of the Church, and always with the entire truth of the Gospel message. The service which the communications media render is, to use an expression dear to John Paul II, "service of truth." In the realm of religious information, the medium cannot be separated from the message of the Lord. We live in an age of increased complexity, confusion and helplessness. In a time of great change and upheaval, there is always, in the Christian com-munity, the human urge to withdraw in a Church-under-siege mentality, to become obsessed with difficulties and dangers, or to suffer paralysis from too much analysis, In the Church we always have a fair share of prophets of doom, those that pull their hair and wring their hands in lament for the loss of faith in our society, while in their own lives they fail to witness to the truth of the Gospel message. Such prophets of doom deny the power of Pentecost and the working of the Spirit, and go forth to proclaim the Good News. In a very special way Catholic media people must be the bringers oftruth, the heralds of the Spirit and the witnesses of love of the Father as revealed in Christ Jesus. The streets and the squares of our cities and villages are teeming with people who wait to hear the truth of the Lord Jesus. We cannot fail them. Pilgrim and Penitent: Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation Shaun McCarty, S.T. Father McCarty writes in his covering letter: "It seems like ages since I've sent in any-thing . A stint on our general council broke the flow of writing." Actually his last article was in 1978, and was entitled: "Religious Roots: Knowing and Owning Our Own Story." He may be addressed at Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. The emergency call from my niece came early one Friday last winter. Her seven-year-old was balking at the prospect of first confession with her class several weeks hence. Reassurances seemed of little help. But Heather was willing to talk with her great-uncle. Faced with the formidable task of meeting with a seven-year-old (I'm used to dealing with grown-ups!), I agreed to come over after school that day for., what? Was it to be penitential catechesis? Spiritual direction? Pastoral counseling? Talk about intimidation! In my own mind I settled for just an avuncular chat! Some hours later, I found myself in peripatetic fashion sloshing through the melting snowbanks at a local park. In between kicking her patent leathers into every icy puddle along the way (and stopping to watch a freight train pass), Heather's predicament unfolded. (It's O.K. to write about this. She said I could tell.) Yes, she was clear about the meaning of the sacrament (she called it "reconciliation" !) and about the ritual involved. Yes, her God-image was in good shape (God was her "friend"). No, she didn't have trouble telling God she was sorry when she didn't behave properly (though she did have some trouble telling her brother!). No, she wasn't afraid of the priest (he was "real nice" with the kids). What her hesitation came down to was: (a) she didn't want to have to 819 820 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 tell all her sins to anyone (at least no one "outside the family!") and (b) she was afraid that, if she did, the priest would tell her parents (apparently they didn't count as part of "the family"!) After some reassurances that lots of grown-ups had difficulties with confession (she was surprised that grown-ups had to go too!), but many I knew found it very helpful. I asked if she thought she might give it a try. Her response: "I'11 have to think it over." By that time we were back to the house. It seemed right to end this avuncular chat at this point. There is a certain irony in what appears to be a simultaneous rise of interest in prayer in the United States~ and a sharp decline in the number of sacramental confessions by "grown-ups" in the last two decades.2 Nor is the latter decline limited to the United States. Church-wide concern was manifest at the Sixth General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops which addressed "Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church.''3 At the close of the synod, Pope John Paul II called for a "contemporary penitential catechesis." With personal prayer "up" and sacramental confessions "down," there has been correspondingly an increased search for spiritual directors and a decreased demand for confessors. Perhaps it would be mutually advantageous for both the sacramental ministry of reconciliation and the non-sacramental ministry of spiritual direction to see them in relationship to one another. That might be one step toward a contemporary catechesis, hopefully leading to a deepened understanding and appreciation of both ministries. It is my purpose here neither to analyze the reasons for this simultaneous rise and decline, nor to trace the historical development of either ministry to any great extent. Rather, I shall explore some distinctions'and similarities between the two; weigh the comparative merits of keeping them together or separate; and, finally, suggest ways in which the two ministries might be kept correlative and complementary in the lives of Christians called to be both pilgrims and penitents. My two basic premises are: (1) it is generally helpful and sometimes necessary to talk about one's experiences of both grace and sinfulness; (2) spiritual direction and the sacrament of penance are two distinct, but not necessarily separate forms of pastoral care providing forums for such sharing. The choice is not to be pilgrim or penitent; it is how, when and where to assume the modality of each. I use the term pilgrim in a symbolic sense to indicate a person's graced movement towards God which often leads to spiritual direction; I use the term penitent in a symbolic sense to indicate a person's movement away from sin which often leads to confession. To expand the symbols somewhat, a pilgrim might be described as one Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 821 who chooses to embark on an intentional faith-journey. The journey becomes intentional to the extent that a person makes a commitment to give serious and consistent attention to the quest for holiness of life as a disciple. Life becomes a faith-journey to the extent that one believes in and acts as though there is a transcendent dimension to all reality and belief in a God who con-tinues to provide for and to guide creatures as they move through life. There is an outer dimension to this journey as the pilgrim interacts with people, places and events that occur in providential sequence and become part of one's sacred geography. There is an inner dimension to this journey as the pilgrim follows a path that leads to deeper union with the divine. Above all, the pilgrim style is prayerful in that, it provides for uncluttered space for reflection so that the people, places and events of the journey can become revelatory of God's beauty, design and call. For help with this discerning prayer, pilgrims often seek out spiritual directors who act as companions, counselors, guides for the journey. ,. As a symbol, a penitent might be described as one involved in an ongoing process of conversion as a sinner loved by God who shows a spirit of true penitence in seeking forgiveness of sin and reconciliation within the community of believers. Conversion is a lifelong process of allowing the grace of God to unify and to free our divided hearts for perfect love. It is a movement away from self-absorption and towards self-surrender to God's designs. True penitence involves knowing and owning the reality of one's sins, being sorry for them and seeking forgiveness. This inner disposition of penitence becomes outwardly manifest in acknowledging one's sins not just to God, but to another who, as an agent of reconciliation, can enable the process of for-giveness. This mediation can happen in both sacramental and non-sacra-mental ways. Sacramentally it can occur in baptism, anointing and Eucharist as well as in penance. Non-sacramentally, it can happen in a variety of ways including healing services, therapeutic counseling or just a talk with a trusted confidant. There is a splendid example of this latter means in the Fifth of Alcoholics Anonymous' Twelve Steps which states: "Admitted to God, to ourselves, and. to another human being, the exact nature of our wrongs.''4 Prescinding from any canoncial necessity, A.A. attests to the efficacy of confessing to another human being: This practice of admitting one's defects to another person is, of course, very ancient. It has been validated in every century, and it characterizes the lives of all spiritually centered and truly religious people. But today religionis by no means the sole advocate of this saving principle. Psychi-atrists and psychologists point out the deep need every human being has for practical insight and knowledge of his own personality flaws and for a discussion of them with an understanding and trustworthy person. So 822 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 far as alcoholics are concerned, A.A. would go even further. Most of us would declare that without a fearless admission of our defects to another human being we could not stay sober. It seems plain that the grace of God will not enter to expel our destructive obsessions until we are willing to try this.5 Finally, a penitent seeks reconciliation within the community of believers. Since one's sins break or fray the bonds of relationship and tend to alienate or isolate the sinner, there is need to seek at-oneness with others who have been affected by one's dark deeds, words or omissions. And this applies to societal as well as personal sin. For help in seeking forgiveness and recon-ciliation, penitents often seek confessors and confidants with whom they can share their failings and seek absolution. Distinctions Between Spiritual Direction and the Sacrament of Penance Before drawing distinctions between the two ministries, a brief historical sketch of the roles of confessor and spiritual director may prove illuminating. In the tradition of the Eastern Church, there has always .been a clear distinction between confessor (parish priest) and spiritual director (starets). According to P. de R6gis: One confesses to his parish priest, and does so by way of an ecclesiastical obligation. He thus accomplishes a duty of community life. However, he goes to the starers solely with the pure desire for personal perfection . A second trait sets the starets completely apart from the confessor. He is chosen not because of his priestly character, but solely because of his charis-matic gifts which people think they see in him. This situation, without doubt, has always existed everywhere, and it was St. Francis de Sales who recommended that we choose our director carefully from "among ten thousand . ,,6 In the tradition of the Western Church, spiritual direction came to be increasingly combined with sacramental confession, a development that paved the way for the later "confession of devotion.''7 A significant influence in the development of Western sacramental prac-tice has been that of St. Alphonsus Ligouri who, in explaining the duties of a confessor, declares that one of the most important of these duties is that of "directing devout souls.''8 B. Haring reflects this strong Alphon-sian tradition of uniting the role of spiritual director with that of confessor: The confessor must also form the conscience of his penitent to an awareness of the obligation to grow in the love of God . The confesso~:'s role is to guide the penitent through the various pathways to holiness, lighting the way to Christ by helping him to develop a fuller prayer life.9 Others who highlight the liturgical role of the confessor tend to separate Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 823 more the ministries of spiritual director and confessor as, for example, L. Hamelin: Nor is the priest I encounter in this sacrament primarily a director of con-science. All the better if he is this, since such direction is a felicitous pro-longation of confession. But it is not essential to the sacrament of reconciliation that the confessor be a good director. The important thing is that he is charged with a mission, namely, the proclamation of the world's salvation. ~o Notwithstanding a variation of stress on the confessor's role as spiritual director, certain distinctions between the ministries of spiritual direction and the sacrament of reconciliation can be made on the basis of purpose (why), minister (who), content (what), process (how), time (when), place (where) and recipient (for whom). These are not meant to be sharp distinctions. Often what happens more properly in one forum occurs also in the other, but in a more secondary way. For example, healing can happen in direction; prayer does occur in the sacrament. Purpose (Why?): Spiritual direction aims primarily at enabling growth in a person's relationship with God and with others in Christ. In addition to proclaiming the world's salvation, the sacrament of penance aims primarily at mediating God's forgiveness and a person's reconciliation with God, self and others. As A. Von Speyer says, "To put the matter simply, we may say that the main function of the confessor is to set free from sin, that of the director to foster growth in divine love.''~ A further distinction should be made within the sacrament itself -- that of penance as a sacrament of necessity, following mortal sin and that of devotion, useful for spiritual progress. This classical distinction is repeated in the revised Rite of Penance (1973) in numbers six and seven, yet, as L. Orsy points out: Strangely enough., it seems that these two distinct operations of penance are lost from sight; the very term "reconciliation" is used indiscriminately for both, although in its proper sense it should be used for those who "have left the house of their Father," not for ttiose who have remained there.~2 Minister (Who?): The present complex practice of the Church is that confessors be ordained priests with faculties granted by an Ordinary for the administration of the sacrament to specified individuals or classes of people. Spiritual directors, on the other hand, do not hold formal office in the Church. Ideally, they are those charismatically gifted and who have the requisite knowledge, experience and skills to enable spiritual growth, and who are sought out by the community. Content (What?): The focus of content in spiritual direction is on the God-consciousness in a person's life and how that person is responding to 824 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 what is heard/seen/felt. The ministry of direction embraces the entire range of a person's religious identity. Key are the questions: Where is God and his offers of grace in the experiences of my everyday life? What are God's desires for me? What am I doing about it? In the sacrament of penance, the focus of content is on a person's need for the forgiveness of sin by an all-loving and merciful God. Key are the questions: What is the shape of my sinfulness for which I am sorry and seek forgiveness? Can I experience God as merciful and myself as a loved sinner? Process (How?): Confession takes place in the internal sacramental forum according to a prescribed rite and is governed by specific laws. In the revised Rite of Penance, there are three modes of sacramental celebration: two com-munal, one individual. For individual, auricular confession, there are pro-visions for praying with and for the penitent, sharing of texts from Sacred Scripture, listening compassionately to the confession of sins on behalf of God and the community, helping to discern the spiritual situation of the penitent, conveying the forgiveness of God by absolution, expressing the exigence of God's call to conversion by the imposition of an appropriate penance and possibly offering counsel as it seems fitting?3 Spiritual direction takes place in the internal, non-sacramental forum, does not follow any set ritual, noris it generally governed by specific legis-lation beyond the basic norms of moral conduct. Direction involves an inter-personal exchange helpful in discerning God's action in the life of the directee. It proceeds according to a style congenial to a particular director and direc-tee, though there are dynamics foundational to all healthy spiritual direction. Time (When?): Spiritual directors meet with directees on a regular basis determined by a working alliance/contract/covenant mutually agreed upon. Penitents are obliged to receive the sacrament of penance as soon as feasible following mortal sin. For confessions of devotion, frequency rather than regularity seems to be the norm suggested for current Church practice. Place (Where?): The ordinary setting for sacramental confession is either a confessional with screen between priest and pentitent, or a reconciliation room specifically appointed for a more personal and informal exchange between the two. (Heather calls the first "the old way" and the second "the new way"! She likes "the old way"!) There is no designated place for sessions of spiritual direction, though consideration should be given to a discreet setting that provides the requisite comfort and confidentiality for a fruitful exchange. Recipient (For whom?): The sacrament of penance is for Christians assuming the modality of penitent.s. Sp.iritual direction is for those assum-ing the modality of pilgrims. Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation Similarities Between the Two Ministries Just as there are differences I~etween spiritual direction and the sacrament of reconciliation, so are there similarities on the bases of purpose, minister, content, process and recipient. Purpose: Both are concerned with the spiritual condition of the pilgrim/ penitent; one stresses the turning away from sin, and the other, the turning towards God -- two sides of the same coin, conversion. Minister: Both confessor and spiritual director see their roles as instrumental, with the Holy Spirit as the principal agent of both forgiveness and spiritual growth. Their instrumentality is enhanced by many of the same qualities and dispositions like prayerfulness, a listening heart, fraternal exchange, respect for the freedom of the other, observance of confidentiality, Christlike love. Content: On the one hand, matters of spiritual growth often receive attention, especially in confessions of devotion. On the other hand, matters concerning forgiveness frequently are dealt with in spiritual direction. A report to the 1983 Synod of Bishops indicates several ways in which this happens: ". certain forms of spiritual direction are of the nature to redeem sins, as, for instance, the revision de vie, the capitulum culpae, a talk with one's spiritual director, confession to a starets in connection with monastic practice." 14 Process: Many of the activities and dynamics that enable effective com-munication with each other and fruitful mutual listening to the Spirit are the same, These would include: prayer with and for the pilgrim/penitent; sharing of texts from Sacred Scripture; affirming grace; challenging growth; occasional instruction; co-discerning the spiritual condition of the recipient; observing periods of silence; gestures communicating God's prodigal love manifested in Christ. Recipient: Pilgrim and penitent are modalities of the same person. Both modalities build on a foundational awareness and acceptance of being a sinner unconditionally loved by a graciousand merciful God. The qualities that dispose one for a more fruitful use of both spiritual direction and the sacrament of reconciliation are much the same: honesty; openness; trust; humility; gratitude and not least of all, the ability to keep one's gaze up and out towards God, and not down and in on one's feet! Together or Separate? There are some notable advantages in combining spiritual direction with the reception of the sacrament of reconciliation: (1) This situates spiritual direction within a liturgical/sacramental context, thus lending it a more visible ecclesial dimension. To the extent that sacramental celebration brings a 826 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 deepened and broadened sense of Church, one can experience more solidarity, support and nourishment in the twin tasks of reconciliation and spiritual growth. J. Sudbrack goes so far as to say: As Catholicism sees it, the most initmate transactions between man and God become authentically visible in the sacrament of the Church. Now as a matter of fact spiritual guidance has often taken place, historically, in the sacrament of penance. The modern practice of consulting the priest in confession is a revival of an old tradition. Even when confession and spiritual guidance cannot be one and the same., it is desirable that such guidance culminate in sacramental confession.~5 (2) Combining both can lessen the tendency to dichotomize one's growth in prayer from the moral attitudes and behaviors of one's life; (3) The for-giving, healing, reconciling action of the Holy Spirit is particularly evident in the revised Rite of Penance. It would seem particularly appropriate that these issues so inimical to spiritual growth -- alienation, isolation, selfish-ness, woundedness -- be dealt with in the same context as one's growth in the Spirit; (4) With keener discernment in "naming one's demons," in being specific about the shape of one's sinfulness, a person is likely to see more clearly those factors as they dull one's sensitivity to the Spirit; (5) Com-bining spiritual direction and confession can become an occasion when one can catch a fuller glimpse of self, both the sin-side and the grace-side. With such fuller perspective it would seem less likely that a person would fall prey, on the one hand, to a self-absorbing remorsefulness over sins or, on the other hand, to hubris (spiritual pride) over spiritual progress; (6) The penitent/pilgrim might see more clearly that God saves and sanctifies right in the midst of one's sinfulness, using even sinful acts and attitudes to lead to deeper union. G. Croft has expressed this well: Like the father with his prodigal son, God permitted Israel's waywardness of old in order that his chosen people might experience what it meant to be separated from their Father, and thus recognize afresh their need of him. So, too, our Lord's consciousness that he had come to save the lost sheep is reflected in knowledge of him as savior, particularly in the moment when the sinner experiences separation from God and the need of his love and mercy. This moment of grace and of conversion each one of us has experienced . not once but many times; so that even when we cry "out of the depths," our seeking is fraught with thanksgiving as we remember his past mercies.~6 (7) The sacrament is a humbling reminder that no one can grow a whit spiritually on his or her own initiative; (8) As both guilt and giftedness are brought to the same session, it can be seen more clearly that both need con-version, lest one become' self-absorbed in either guilt or gift; (9) Coming Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 827 at once as pilgrim and penitent can bring a more genuine realization of St. Paul's observation, ". power is at full stretch in weakness" (2 Co 12:9); (10) Finally, having the same person for confessor and director seems more conducive to the integration of these two valuable outside helps to holiness in that one person hears the whole story in the same context. Difficulties in Combining Roles On the side of the confessor/director, the most obvious difficulty is that this limits the ministry of spiritual direction presently to celibate, male clerics. With increasing demands on time and ministerial skills along with decreasing numbers of priests, it seems hardly likely that they could even begin to satisfy the rising need for spiritual directors. Besides, not all priests have the charisms for this ministry, not to mention the knowledge, skills and experience that facilitate the use of the gifts. Confessors who feel called to and who are willing to give a priority to spiritual direction for their penitents need adequate preparation for it. The commission's report to the 1983 Synod expressed this strongly: It is true that today the authentic form of private confession needs to be profoundly renewed in its spiritual aspects, and this in connection with the revised Ordo paenitentiae. Without such a renewal the Church will not be able to cope with the crisis of the sacrament of penance. For this a better spiritual and theological formation of priests is required, in order that they be able to deal with what is now demanded from confession, viz., the latter should contain more elements of spiritual direction and of fraternal .exchange. Under this aspect the so-called confession of devotion retains its importance.~7 On the side of the pilgrim/penitent, unless care is taken, the integrity of the two distinct ministries can become clouded. There may be some danger, too, that by locating spiritual direction within the context of confession, the project of spiritual growth could become too sin-oriented. At times, a person's sense of sinfulness ~can become so humiliating and/or immobilizing that open and honest exchange is flawed. Or the preoccupation with sin can so capture a penitent's consciousness that there is little room or energy for dealing with matters of spiritual growth. When Distinct But Not Separate In practice, the two can be kept distinct, but not necessarily separate. This is more likely to happen when both confessor/director and pilgrim/ penitent are clear about the distinction and habitually differentiate between the two ministries. If a choice is made to combine them, certain considera-tions may prove helpful: (1) Every session of spiritual direction need not 828 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 occur in combination with the sacrament of penance; (2)Especially appropriate times for combining them might be the seasons of Advent and Lent as well as periods of retreat; (3) In preparing beforehand, the very nature of one's examen can be such as to lead to a reflection not only on sinfulness, but also on graced invitations for further growth. For example, the Beatitudes might provide such a growth-oriented examen for pilgrim/ penitents. D. Barry makes this recommendation: The Beatitudes immediately recommend themselves as a blueprint for an updated, life-affirming ethical spirituality especially suited to the Christian mission of healing and reconciliation. Since they summarize the essence of Christlike living in a form that makes for easy recall, the Beatitudes offer a particularly rich source of meditation or conscience examination matter for the maturing Christian . They readily lead us to questions about our attitudes and conduct that get right to the heart of what contemporary discipleship is all about.~8 (4) If the penitent chooses to combine both, there should be some indica-tion of this intent at the beginning of the session. The penitential ritual might then be celebrated by itself at the beginning or the end of the time together or the penitent might indicate a desire to use the entire time to open before God his whole spiritual condition, graced and sinful, with a view to abso-lution at the end. As alluded to previously, one can develop a sensitivity to God speaking in the midst of one's sinfulness showing a side of self not otherwise open to awareness and conversion; (5) It would seem appropri-ate, on the occasion of confession/direction, that a pilgrim/penitent, in addi-tion to expressing sorrow for sins, also express gratitude for the graced times that have occurred. This, too, is with a view to keeping the more complete self in perspective as one considers his or her relationships to God, self and others. When Distinct and Separate Though the 1983 Synod of Bishops was primarily concerned with the sacrament of penance and, consequently, the role of the priest-director, the theological commission's report to the Synod did give recognition to extra-sacramental direction: That form of confession of sins, which is tied to spiritual direction, is a' very ancient treasure of the Church. On the one hand, it belongs to the very structure of the Church. On the other hand, as can be seen in the mg.nastic and spiritual traditions, it also has a place outside the sacrament. Both these data are factors in the development which is guided by the spiritual experience of the Church.~9 In the increasing likelihood that more spiritual directors will not be priests, Direction and Sacramental Reconciliation / 829 it would seem appropriate that the ministries be kept correlative and comple-mentary to the sacrament of penance. Some provisions that might help this happen are: (1) Alert and resourceful confessors might recommend qualified spiritual directors to those whose confessions indicate they would benefit from such further help; (2) Both directors and confessors might alert those who come to them to issues that might be dealt with better in the other forum. For example, a director may uncover some significant area that needs sacramental healing. Even if the person feels more comfortable in dealing with the issue in direction, there is the further possibility of celebrating the sacrament of reconciliation later; (3) The relationship between director and directee should be such that the latter will feel free to confide his or her sinful as well as graceful side with a director, lest either side get compart-mentalized; (4) Confessors and directors would do well to cultivate a mutual understanding of and respect for each other's ministries so as to see them-selves not in competition, but in collaboration with each other in their care of souls. Summary In the preceding pages, using the symbols of pilgrim and penitent, I have attempted to further such an understanding and appreciation of the ministries of spiritual direction and sacramental reconciliation by indicating some dis-tinctions and similarities between the two; by weighing the comparative merits and deficits of keeping them together or separate; and, finally, by suggesting some ways in which they might be kept correlative and complementary in the lives of Christians who are called to be both pilgrims and penitents. I close with some verses from the heart of one such pilgrim/penitent who has been on the journey somewhat longer than Heather (by about ninety years)! They are entitled, "Confessor-Director": And then above the dark horizon of my night There beamed a star that bathed my soul with light And beckoned me upon my pilgrim way. My spirit soared to meet the guiding flame That traced a path illuminated by His name And led me on to greet the dawning day! The Day that dawns to span Eternity. P.S. By the way, Heather did join the class for the sacrament of reconcilia- 83!1 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 tion! It seems that Father offered them the option of sitting in his lap. I forgot to ask if she opted for the "new" way! NOTES ~K.A. Briggs, "America's Return to Prayer," New Yoi'k Times Magazine (November 18, 1984), pp. 107-18. 2T.P. Sweetser~ "What Ever Happened to Confession?" New Catholic World (January-February, 1964), pp. 31-2. 3j. Ratzinger, "The Necessity for Personal Confession," Origins 13 (October 20, 1983), pp. 331-2. 4Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (New York: Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, Inc., 1953), pp. 56ff. 51bid, pp. 57-8. 6p. de R6gis, "Confession and Spiritual Direction in the Oriental Church," The Sacrament of Penance, C. de Vaux St. Cyr et al. (Paramus, N.J.: Paulist, 1966), p. 94. 7H.B. Meyer, "Confession or Spiritual Direction?" Making Sense of Confession, 0. Betz, ed., (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1968), p. 128. 8St. Alphonsus Ligouri, Praxis confessarii, nn. 121-27. 9B. Haring, Shalom: Peace (New York: Farrar, Straus & Giraux, 1967), p. 140. ~°L. Hamelin, Reconciliation in the Church, M.J. O'Connell, trans. (Coliegeville: Liturgical Press, 1980). ~tA Von Speyer, Confession (New York: Herder and Herder), p. 214. ~2L. Orsy, The Evolving Church and the Sacrament of Penance (Denville, N.J.: Dimension, 1978). ~3See M. Hellwig, Sign of Reconciliation (Wilmington: M. Glazier, 1982), especially Chapter VIII which treats the role of the confessor. ~41nternational Theological Commission Report to 1983 Synod of Bishops, Penance and Reconciliation, Origins (January 12, 1984), p. 521. ~sj. Sudbrack, Spiritual Guidance (Paulist, 1983), pp. 24-5. ~6G. Croft, "The Sinner Finds God," The Way (January, 1968), pp. 34-40. ~TReport to 1983 Synod, supra, p. 522. ~SD. Barry, Ministry of Reconciliation (New York: Alba House, 1974), p. 111. ~9Report to 1983 Synod, supra, p. 520. Freed for Life in the Spirit -- Together Romans 12:1-8: A Meditation Daniel J. Harrington, S.J. This biblical meditation on Christian life and community was presented at the assembly of the Jesuit New England Province on June 12, 1986. Father Harrington is professor of New Testament at the Weston School of Theology; 3 Phillips Place; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. In an extraordinary act of boldness, Paul addressed at great length the Chris-tians of a church that he had not founded. He was bas.ically asking for a room in which to stay before moving on in his mission to Spain. Even before that, he had to bring the proceeds of the collection to J~rusalem, and perhaps also explain his activities to the Christian leaders there. Meanwhile he was hearing reports about frictions within the Roman community, chiefly with regard to divisions between Gentile Christians and Jewish Christians. With all these situations in mind, Paul wrote what has come to be recog-nized as his theological masterpiece -- his letter to the Romans. I find an uncanny parallel between the dynamics, of Romans and of St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises. Paul first establishes the need of all persons -- Gentiles and. Jews alike -- for something or someone beyond themselves if they are to find right relationship with God. Then he roots the person of Jesus and his followers in the tradition of salvation history reaching back to Abraham. Next he reflects on the difference that Jesus has made by freeing us from sin, death and the Law, and by freeing us for life in the Holy Spirit. These first eight chapters laid the foundations for reflection on the mystery of Israel in chapters 9-11, and for addressing problems within the Roman com-munity in chapters 12-16. Romans 12:1-8 presents Paul's vision of life within the Christian com- 831 832 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 munity. That life is first and foremost a response to the difference that Jesus has made. That life is communal, the task of persons freed from sin, death and the Law as potential masters of their lives, and freed for life under the prompting of the Holy Spirit. That life takes a variety of forms with the clear recognition that all the tasks undertaken within the Christian com-munity are important. "Freed for life in the Spirit -- together" -- that was Paul's understanding of Christian life. Perhaps he can help us as we try to give shape to our life as religious together. A Response Paul begins his exhortation in this way: I appeal to you, brothers, through the mercies of God to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God, your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this age but be transformed by renewal of mind so that you may discern what is God's will, what is good and pleasing and perfect (vv. 1-2). With these words, Paul provides us with a way of understanding our-selves and our brothers and sisters in Christ. Calling upon familiar terms associated with sacrifice and temple worship, Paul insists that genuine worship of God takes place not merely in a designated place at a set time but rather in all that we do and whenever we do it. Everyday life is the "place" in which the Father of Jesus Christ is worshipped. The sacrifice that we offer to God is ourselves, no more and no less. In this framework, when we Christians do come together in a designated place at a set time, we are simply making concrete what happens throughout our 'lives. All our life is an act of worship, a time for praise and thanksgiving, a sacrifice holy and pleasing to God. Our Christian lives can be a continuing act of worship precisely because of the difference that Jesus Christ has made. Even though the kingdom of God, or the age to come, is not yet here in its fullness, we believe that in some way it has been inaugurated in Christ. Therefore we need not be con-formed to what Paul calls "this age"; that is, we need not be dominated by sin, death and the Law. Christ has freed us to live in the age to come, which he has already begun. And because Christ has freed us and invited us to share in the inaugurated kingdom, we can discern God's will. In Paul's perspective, discernment is not simply clear thinking coming to closure. Rather discernment has been made possible by what God has done for us in Christ. Discernment is our way of living in the inaugurated kingdom, in the age to come. Discernment is the way in which we shape our response to the freedom won for us by Christ. Freed for Life in the Spirit / 833 Christian life as continued worship, as living in the kingdom, as dis-cernment in response to Christ's gift of freedom -- these are the chief ele-ments in Paul's understanding of Christian life. Paul's exhortation continues: For by the grace that has been given to me I say to everyone among you not to think more highly than he ought to think but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith God has assigned to him (v. 3). Paul speaks sternly here. He wants the Christians at Rome to be more modest and realistic. He wants them to put an end to factionalism and com-petitiveness. He wants to deflate their pretensions. Nevertheless, Paul's way of deflating the Romans' pretensions is amazingly creative and positive. He does not downgrade them or criticize their abilities. Instead, he reminds them about the real source of their powers and indeed about the real source of his own power. In appealing to his own apostolic authority, Paul describes it as "the grace that has been given to me." In urging a more sober estimation of their own intellectual power, Paul tells the Romans to recall that whatever spiritual gifts they have were portioned out to them by God. So in the process of calling to task the Roman Christians, Paul insists on the gift that gives shape to all of Christian life. The fundamental gift of God is Jesus Christ. The ways in which that fundamerital gift is made concrete are themselves gifts. Thus the Christian community is the gathering of gifted persons, who all bear witness to God's most basic gift in Jesus Christ. On the one hand, Paul's doctrine of grace encourages humility, does a~ay with factionalism and competitiveness, and deflates pretensions. On the other hand, Paul's doctrine of grace underlines the "gift" character of Christian life, allows us to look on one another as gifted persons, and helps us to see our lives together as reflections of God's fundamental gift of Christ. No one can boast, precisely because all is gift. Life Together Paul continues: For as in one body we have many members, and all the members do not have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, members each one of the others (vv. 4-5). What coach, what director of a play, what overseer of a trip has not used the body analogy in order to urge greater cooperation among individuals? People of Paul's time were surely familiar with this analogy from a famous fable about the city as a body recorded by Livy. Thus our 834 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 own term, the "body politic." Indeed, there is no need to search for prece-dents or ancient parallels since the analogy is so easy. We all have bodies. Our bodies have many parts. When all the parts work together, each per-forming its proper function, we can accomplish our goal. When one part hurts or fails to function, the whole body suffers. The body analogy is so obvious that we could pass over it quickly if it were not for the small qualifying phrase "in Christ." We are one body in Christ. That is an enormously important qualification. What makes us a body of Christians is not a desire to win a game; or put on a play, or go on a trip: Christ makes us into a body. We become the body of Christ. The life that runs through us all, the spirit that animates us, the force that enlivens us is Christ. Therefore, as we live out our Christian lives as religious, we do so as members of the body of Christ.We are conscious that God has called us to this form of Christian life with other members of Christ's body. We have been called together as a way of responding to God's gift to us. As we work side by side, what we should try to see first and foremost is the life of Christ expressing itself in one another. Service Having laid his foundations about the nature of Christian life and having insisted on Christ as the 'basis of our communal life, Paul now considers the proper response to God's gift of freedom. For what have we been freed? We have been freed for service. In one Of the most tightly packed and meaningful sentences in the entire Pauline co~'pus, Paul says: "Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them . . ." (v, 6a). This dense sentence summarizes Paul's approach to the place of service iri Christian life. In addressing the Romans, he assumes that all Christians are gifted ("having gifts"). The word for "gifts" here is charismata, the singular of which is charisma. But Paul does not use the word charisma as we do in our own day when we talk about charismatic politicians or movie actors -- those who have that certain undefinable something, that magic that makes them attractive to us, whose power comes from some unknown source. Paul knows the source of the Christian gifts. It is the Holy Spirit. Paul knows why Christians can do what they do. It is through the Holy Spirit. Paul knows why Christians do what they do. It is to build up the body of Christ. These gifts (charismata) are according to the grace (charis) given to us, By making this qualification; Paul reminds us that charisms flow from the fundamental grace, which is Christ. Charisms make concrete the grace of Christ. They are the means by which the grace of Christ expresses itself Freed for Life in the SpMt / 835 in our place and in our ~ime. These gifts differ. What sounds like an obvious statement on the logical level is not so easy to recognize in practice. Just as in a body the different members have different functions, so in the body of Christ there is astonishing variety.But sometimes variety is intimidating or frightening, and we want to shape others according to our own conceptions of what is good for them. Paul says no to all such attempts at imposing uniformity on the body of Christ. Variety must be respected not because it is refreshing or interesting but .because it witnesses to the marvelous power of God that can work through so many different instruments. "Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us . " All of us are gifted. Our gifts are rooted in God's fundamental gift to us. Our gifts differ. The next and, indeed, necessary step is to use our gifts in service. God's gifts are not our personal possessions to be polished and stored away. They are not occasions for pride or boasting. God's gifts are to be used in free response to Christ our Lord~ Unlike most people today who understand freedom as the absence of any restraint upon them, Paul looked upon freedom as service under the only master worth serving. Whereas for many of our contemporaries "free-dom's just another word for nothing left to lose," for Paul freedom meant putting aside false masters for the sake of serving God and his people. Paul gives us some examples of service: ¯ . . if prophecy, according to the proportion of faith; if service, in service; he who teaches, in teaching; he who exhorts, in exhortation; he who shares, in simplicity; he who presides, in zeal; he who is merciful, cheerfulness (vv. 6-8). The list illustrates concrete ways in which God's gifts are made manifest. The'list includes prophecy, service (diakonia), teaching, exhortation, sharing, presiding or administration, and acts of mercy. I will not comrfient on each of these gifts.Nor do I suggest that we can bE satisfied with merely transferring them into the twentieth century. Nevertheless, the list is instructive fo? us on several counts. The emphasis is on activities rather than offices or the persons who hold the offices. Also, there is no discernible hierarchy in the list, unlike 1 Corinthians 12. All the activities are important. Moreover, there is a stress on the spirit in which the activities are carried out -- moving backward on the list, in cheerfulness, in zeal, in simplicity, and so forth. Paul reminds us that actions are more important than status or office, that all the charisms are significant and help toward the health of the body, and that much depends on the attitudes with which we carry out our activities. Prayer of Being: Intimacy at the Center David Hassel, S.J. ,, In this article Father Hassel continues his study of prayer and intimacy. The work he has done on this subject, much of which has appeared in our pages, is being gathered into a book entitled Dark Intimacy; Hope for Those in Difficult Prayer published in the near future by Paulist Press. Presbntly, Father Hassel, as Research Professor, is devoting him-self fully to writing, primarily in the area of philosophy. He may be addressed at Loyola University of Chicago; 6525 N. Sheridan Road; Chicago, Illinois, 60626. People lose heart when God is drawing them into prayer of being, prayer of simple presence. Here is where people feel most useless to God and to themselves, most empty and unworthy of God. For this prayer is quite silent, ord!narily dry, sometimes hollow, angry-fearsome, briefly joyful, and lacking many former certitudes. If ever a praying person feels far from intimacy with God, it is at this critical growth-point of developing union with God. Here, then, such a person needs reassurance against diffidence. Perhaps assurance will be gained if this prayer of being is recognizably described within one's prayer experience, if its nature is revealed in Scrip-ture, if the disciplining action of this prayer can be sketched accurately, and if the way of living in this prayer can be clearly depicted. All these "ifs" form the strategy of this article. How to Recognize Prayer of Being Prayer of being, lying hidden underneath, at least three layers of expe-rience, has paradoxical features. Probably this is because the depth at which prayer of being occurs makes it describable only in limit-statements. The latter plot out the extreme boundaries of any mysterious experience; 836 Prayer of Being / 837 they do not offer a clear X-ray picture of its inner structure. For example, the first feature of thisprayer of being is its silence. It is gestureless, wordless. When one prays, there seems tobe no response, no sense of God's even hearing one's attempts to reach him. The silver arrows of one's petitions seem to hit the tabernacle and to fall shattered at its base. Praying becomes like the mocking echo of one's own voice when. shouting across.a river to a great bluff on the other side. At the same time, paradoxi-cally, the prayer may be noisy with distractions. One's mind feels like a huge warehouse at which gigantic "semi's" are unloading fresh cargoes of distractions on the warehouse dock and forklift trucks are delivering the boxes of distractions to the center of one's attention. Naturally, such distractedness is accompanied by dryness, the second characteristic of prayer of being. One feels no ready satisfaction, no lifts of the heart with joy. One gains no splendid insights to light up one's path; not even the tired insights of past years arise to illuminate the desert darkness. There is little or no heartfelt attraction for Christ, for Gospel reading, or for generous actions; there is only a certain blankness of mind and a wrinkled leathery feeling in the heart. Yet at the same time, after one has weathered the time given to this prayer (e.g., early in the morning) and started towards breakfast, one experiences a quiet worthwhileness and even a restored strength for the day's duties. These qualities are palpably missing when one omits this prayer; instead, one knows an indefinable seine Of loss and a certain lethargic heaviness. Of course, such experience seems somewhat hollow, the third feature of the prayer of being. The absence of satisfaction felt inside oneself is matched in one's outer activities. Hobbies, entertainment, daily work, favorite diversions--all seem strictly routine, not attractive, and rather superficial as though the silence and dryness of prayer had seeped into one's more exterior doings. Yet in the prayer of being itself and in these activities, there is a remote sense of fullness, as though through the deepest caverns of one's praying/working self there runs a great underground river. This remote fullness expresses itself indirectly when the praying person finds himself or herself saying: "Where else would I want to be than here? Nowhere else. What else would I rather be doing? Nothing else." What is this peculiar sense of rightness amid silence, dryness, and hollowness? Because the person now doing the prayer of being has already lived faithfully with the Lord not a few years, there is the fear that he or she is backsliding, is caught in a web of self-delusion. And yet the person may also feel deep anger towards God at the "unfairness of it all." This is the fourth feature of theprayer of being. For the individual begins to question: "What am I doing wrong that the Lord should be so distant?" And then 838 / Review for Religio'us, November-December, 1986 begins some rummaging around in the past for a disastrously wrong deci-sion, a fatal flaw of character, a refused grace of strategic importance. For example, a retreatant was asking these questions of himself from the fifth to the nineteenth day of his. Ignatian thirty-day retreat and came upon this answer on the nineteenth day: "This retreat is a fraud; your life leading up to this retreat has been equally fraudulent; in fact, you've been embezzling yourself from adolescence till now." On recounting this dazzling insight to his director, the latter said to him: ''Be sure to keep up this type of question-ing. And don't for a moment trust yourself, others, me, or God." This response shocked the retreatant into recognizing both the superficial evi-dence that provoked the questioning and the serenity he experienced deep at the center of his being--paradox of paradoxes. Even as he felt whirled about in swirls of confusion, he also knew that in the depths of his being he was resting at home with the Lord in the center of the universe. He felt like the weather-pilot who had been fighting a bucking plane through the tornado and now has suddenly broken into its quiet eye. But where there is fear, there is often also an accompanying anger. Frustrated with my work, my family, my own self, and embarrassed by my anger at God for all this frustration, I am restless, eager to break out of this suffocating cocoon of self. 'Repulsed by, my negative mood, by the stark vision of my sins .and limitations, by my own littleness compared to God's greatness, I experience a profound, but false sense of guilt. For I have forgotten that one gets most deeply angry only with those one loves best and that to be angry with God is to take seriously his goodness and his providence. Anger with a friend (even with God) can be a secret compliment. ~ Thus the angry Jeremiah felt free to call God to his face "a treacherous brook" (Jr 15:18) and to accuse the Lord of duping him (Jr 20:12). For this reason guilt at my anger is a false guilt, which acts like a suit of armor so that I cannot feel God's touch. Even if I did feel his touch I would deny it, because "what god would want to deal with me." Yet eventually, as a fearful, angry person who is doing the prayer of being, I find myself repeating the words of the fiercely angry prophet in the Book of Lamenta-tions: "The favors of the Lord are not exhausted, his mercies are not spent. They are renewed each morning, so great is his faithfulness" (3:22-23). Amid all this confusion, there are occasional leaps of the heart at God's dim presence. They are very brief and widely spaced, with only.a rare moment when he seems to take over completely. Prayer of being, then, is not one long, monotone bore, A person can, however, overlook these quick touches of the Lord. Once a directee confessed: "If I had not kept a daily diary of this dry prayer Prayer of Being / 839 of mine, I would have complained that God was completely absent these past fifty days. But when I read back, I found four or five spots where the Lord made his presence felt for a few moments." Of course, this informa-tion makes quite a difference not only to the directee but also to the director. Soprayer of being is not a state of prayerlessness; its fifth feature is the Lord's quiet signaling of his companionship in our fears and anger. There is, nevertheless, in this prayer of being a gradual loss of youthful certainties. This constitutes the sixth characteristic of the prayer of being. One feels quite uncertain about so many things: political issues, the nature of holiness, the future of the United States, theological schools of thought, personality theories, economic cure-alls, long-standing family arguments, the proper raising and education of one's children, and so on. This deep wondering issues not so much from tired cynicisms as from a new sens( of mystery. Too often the failure of simple solutions has proved the myste-rious complexity of a person or of a situation, or of some vast plan of social improvement. Sometimes the praying person mistakes the deep wondering at such failures fora faith-loss---especially when a glance at the vine of one's apostolate seemingly reveals only shrunken grapes. A compelling temptation can then arise to find new works to do, new people to consult, new plans to promote. There can be even tears at this point though one is not sure why they come frustration, hope, self-pity, consolation? The most acute sufferings occur when the praying person feels seating doubt about whether he or she can love anyone fully, or be lovable to anyone else. And yet as the praying person descends deep into the self without knowing what lies ahead, there is no desire to go back up, even though the darkness seems to be heavier, for one experiences a strange contentment with the, situation--because one feels loved intimately. Does Prayer of Being Deny Intimacy? These six characteristics of prayer of being: silence, dryness, hollow-ness, fearsome anger, rare inbursts of joy, and loss of certainties would seem almost to deny the presence of any intimacy in this prayer. But the opposite is true. First of all, only by going through the various stages of prayer which require deep intimacy (one-to-one prayer, forgiveness, sinful-ness, apostolic more, and powerlessness) can one enter into the prayer of being. To declare that these stages of intimacy lead only to non-intimacy is to join the absurdist philosophers in stating that the human person is a living contradiction for self-destruction. In fact, the state of dryness charac-teristic of prayer of being is normal to all prayer, just as it is the normal 840 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 condition of any human relationship. It is the state lying between the extremes of consolation and desolation, just as the dryness in marriage or in work is the normal feeling between the ecstacy of love or of high success and the despair of lost love or bankrupt business. Dryness in prayer is the balanced state for enduring well everyday living. It is a secret strengthening joy; it is that sustaining intimacy which arises out of suffering well the everyday routines of prayer and life. Indeed, dryness is very instructive for the praying person. It forces the one who prays to distinguish the various levels of human experience, to enter their depths, to learn, more accurately what passive prayer is, and finally to develop a faithfulness to God which is more independent of consolations or desolations, of elations or depressions, and of subjectively estimated successes and failures. Let us glance at the levels of human experience so as to better under-stand dryness in prayer. There is, first, a superficial level, which consists of pleasures and pains present to our awareness like the constant purr of an air conditioner, the heavy perfume of lilacs, the irritation of a skin rash or a raspy voice, the comforting warmth of a May.sun or the soft touch 9f an April breeze and shower. The first level, then, is a constant stream of sensual impressions, the context of life. Underneath this is a second level of deeper experiences, such as the constant ache of neuralgia, or the deep pleasure of loving interchange, or the delight of solving a perplexing business problem, or the lyric leap of an evening at the symphony, or the exuberant planning for the first baby, or the panic fear of a flashing knife. This second level is more meaningful, and it lends depth to the first one. But underlying both these levels is a still more profound set of expe-riences which make up the third level. It is on this level that one experiences the enervating worry at not having a job, the satisfaction of affectionate family living, the sorrow of watching the alcoholic spouse struggle for respectability, the fulfillment of a project successfully completed which demanded ten years of one's life, the sense of worthwhileness in the costly sacrifice for one's beloved. At this third level, a person's deepest hopes are raised or dashed, a person's finest joys are brought into full bloom, a person's crushing sorrows test the stamina of one's very being. Believe it or not, there is also a fourth level, which is the dynamic basis of the three higher levels of experience. Although the top three levels are directly knowable to the subject, this fourth level is discovered and known' only indirectly, that is, only in contrast with the other three. Thus, a woman can be in good health on the first level, can enjoy a full family life on the second level, can see her role in life as richly meaningful on the third Prayer of Being / 841 level, and yet be restless and pain-filled on the fourth level. If it were not for this dramatic contrast with the top three levels, .she could not possibly come to know the fourth level as part of her experience. This revealing contrast can also occur in the opposite manner. A man may be suffering from a fourteen-day cold on the first level, may feel misunderstood by the family on the second level, experience sharp doubt on the third level about his ability to handle his new and complicated position in the corporation--and yet be peaceful at the fourth level, under-neath the disturbing events of the top three. He could well find himself asking: "What's wrong with me? I should feel depressed and desolate, but I don't. Am I becoming schizoid? Or have I lost interest in my family and my career?" But this startling contrast lets him know, if he reflects on it, that there is a fourth level of his experience, one known only by contrast with the upper three levels. This long explanation is meant to lead to the conclusion that great dryness of prayer at the top three levels of experience can be accompanied by a serene peace and sense of personal worthwhileness lurking underneath at the fourth level. Such a discovery lights up prayer of being, since such prayer happens at this fourth level where one comes into contact with one's being, one's fullest identity. Here, too, is the best rendezvous-point for meeting God. As any prayer which leaves us feeling powerless indicates: God is the one doing the praying in us; and he starts it at the fourth level, then lets it percolate up through the other three levels. In prayer of being, however, God may shut off this percolation into the top three levels. When this happens, one can find God only indirectly, through the contrast of the upper three levels with the fourth-level. At this point the praying person finally recognizes that he or she is totally at the mercy of God's initiative. Again, he or she more sharply appreciates the need to be more pa~ssive under God's action. Most of us, nonetheless, fight hard to be the active senior partner in prayer, and so we struggle mightily On the top three levels to keep control. At the first level we may try new vocal prayers, new Zen techniques, new spiritual reading books; at the second level we may try to pump up old emotions we once felt and duly inscribe in our spiritual diaries, or we may review magnificent panoramic insights of our personal salvation history. On the third level, we may investigate our motivations for being good family people, for becoming career enthusiasts, for entering the life of religious vows, for being unmarried or married, for being lazy or aggres-sive, for being liberal or conservative, and so on. In other words, to avoid the passivity of prayer, we strain to climb the sheer glass mountain of mystery by our fingernails. Inevitably we end up at 842 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 the bottom of the mountain, looking at our bloody hands. Slowly it dawns on us that maybe only God can lift us to the top of the glass mountain, that we have to rest passive in his hands as he lifts us gently and gladly, that only after we admit our total dependence on him, will he lift us to the top of the mountain. We learn, then, what the passivity of prayer is: letting God do the praying in and through our four levels of experience, while we simply furnish ourselves--and some basic conditions for prayer, e.g., time carefully set aside, some reading of Scripture and other spiritual works, a reverent body-position, a readiness to go in prayer wherever the Lord leads, and so on. These conditions God can use or not use as he sees fit. There is a third result of recognizing thi.s fourth level: because of dry7 ness at the upper three levels, one develops a faithfulness to God which is more independent of consolations or. desolations, of elations or depres-sions; one becomes aware of the constant presence of God in this fourth level. There, likea great underground river, he quietly nourishes all one's activities on the top three levels, rendering the praying person serene in the sure direction of the fiver, and letting the person know that he or she is never alone, never far from the center of the universe. This quiet reas-surance can occur in the midst of the most joyful, or the most sorrowful happenings on the upper three levels, and thus it nurtures the wholesome independence of the praying person. So it is no surprise that the person finds the edge taken off deep fears, fierce angers dampened down, and pestering doubts stilled. Thusprayer of being is never a lonely experience, since it is a constant, indirect awareness of God at one's deepest level of experience, at the center of one's being. In this way, divine being speaks within the individual person's being. Paradoxically, such communion is wordless at this silent depth. It is a simple presence to each other like that between long-married partners who have great mutual devotion to each other. In this one-to-one awareness, God and the praying person have, by a kind of osmosis, an underlying, indirect appreciation of each other rather than a direct face-to-face meeting as in the beatific vision. Their co-pres.ence is more by being than by insightful action or by tangible feeling. It is as though the praying person reaches behind his or her back to touch God. For each affects the other by pure presence of being, as happens when people are aware of each other even though separated by oceans and mountain ranges. Because this presence is so deep and subtle, it takes long years and much experience for the average praying person to recognize its potential for intimacy. Such mutual awareness is a beingrfor-the-other. This has a rema~:kable effect on the human partner. He or she finds greater empathy for other human beings at a deep level of experience, namely, that of being, of Prayer of Being / 843 radical person-hood. It is this which enables the praying person to enter more profoundly into the routinized lives of God's marginal people, to feel more deeply the emptiness of their sometimes meaningless lives, and the gestureless silence of their listless suffering. As a result the person in prayer of being becomes more ready to sacrifice, more apostolic in intent, in order to fulfill the needs of the Lord's anawim. Perhaps this is the cosmic com-passion of which Christ speaks: "Love your enemies, pray for your persecu-tors. This will prove that you are sons of your heavenly Father, for his sun rises on the bad and the good, he rains on the just and the unjust. In a word, you must be made perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Mt 5:44-48). Because this prayer of being issues in close union not only with God but also with his marginal people, it leads to a dynamic compenetration of the two great commandments: to love God is to love neighbor and vice vers~a. In this way, prayer of being becomes like the background music permeating my consciousness as I wait for a client or work over financial accounts or have my teeth cleaned or do housework and gardening. It is a quiet, strengthening, enlivening presence which I may even take for granted until its temporary shutoff leaves me cold and bereft. Perhaps better, it is like a long-term friendship highly prized yet often taken for granted because it has always been the~:e to guide, envigorate, and challenge me, and, finally, to assure me of a happy future in serving others. Thus prayer of being, if it is anything, is a new depth of intimacy not only with God and self but also with all other human beings. Prayer of Being in Scripture Prayer of being is profoundly embedded in Scripture. Among the multiple translations of 'the divine name Yahweh in the Old Testament is: "he-who-is-for-others." Since Yahweh is the continuing creator and perdur-ing animator of all things, he clearly lives up to his name. He literally brings all things into being out of nothingness and then remains in them to pulse their existence constantly lest they sink back into nothingness. He is being for all other beings. It is no wonder, then, that in theprayer of being, the praying person becomes so sensitive to nothingness or emptiness at the same time as he or she notes the fullness of being around and in him or her. Yahweh, nonetheless, is not satisfied with this degree of intimacy within all created beings. Out of all the nations, he selects the weakest, that motley throng of mixed breeds from Egypt called the Israelites, and begins to form them into his people. To do this, he makes a covenant with them; they are to be his people and he, their God. Actually, it later becomes a marriage covenant since he comes to consider the Hebrew nation his bride. To 844 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 demonstrate this, he even tells Hosea, who had unfortunately married a woman turned prostitute, to remarry his bride. In this way is symbolized Yahweh's remarriage with his adulterous Israelite people, and so drama-tized the intimate relationship which Yahweh wants with the Hebrew peo-ple-- a relationshipfar beyond, yet built out of, the intimate relationship of creator and creature in being. Thus any turning of the Hebrew people to another or false God is considered nothing less than adultery--to be pun-ished, for example, by the great exile of 587 B.C. Such being-for-others (Yahweh himself) makes understandable why the second person of the Trinity would be sent into the womb of Mary to become the Jesus of history. The Christ intimately immerses himself in the being and life of his Jewish family, his town of Nazareth, and his country of Palestine. Jesus becomes. Jewish from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. Thus he literally is the wedding covenant of Yahweh with the Hebrew people; his very flesh and all his historical actions are divine and human, Godly and Jewish, inextricably. In this way, the God-man can enter into and share our gestureless, wordless silence in the hidden life of Nazareth, our dryness from routinized lives in his daily handyman tasks, our felt hollowness from self-emptying sacrifices for those dear to us (Ph 5:2-7), our fears ("My soul is troubled now, yet what should I say-- Father, save me from this hour?" [Jn 12:27]), and our angry frustrations ("What an unbelieving and perverse lot you are! How long must I remain with you? How long can I endure you?'[Lk 9:41]). He also shares our rare leaps of joy ("At that moment Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit"ILk 9:12]), and our hollowness felt at the center of our beings (Jesus sleeping the sleep of exhaustion in the storm-tossed boat). He knew all the ingredients of being human; he, too, did theprayer of being in relation,to the Father. In his bones and nervous system Jesus felt his being-for-others at the three upper levels of his experience. This being-for-others is best seen, however, in his joy at the fourth level underneath his passion at the upper-three levels. The seven last words of Christ express an exquisitely beautiful and expensive intimacy. When Jesus said: "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me. Weep for yourselves and for your children" (Lk 23:28), could he have been other than a being-for- others amid terrible dryness and felt fear? When he cried out: "Father, forgive them; they do not know what they are doing" (Lk 23:34), was he not a being-for-others amid the deaf silence of his crucifiers? When he turned his head towards Dismas to say: "This day you .will be with me in paradise" (Lk 23:43), was he not a being-for-others in the brief joy of this moment? When he looked to Mary and John and said: "Woman, there is your son; [son,] there is your mother" (Jn 19:28), was he not a being-for- Prayer of Being / 845 others emptying himself of his last possession? When he screamed out: "I am thirsty" (.Jn 19:28), was he not revealing that his being-for-others felt hollow and dry in its helplessness? When he spoke to the Father appeal-ingly: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Lk 15:34), was he not a being-for-others feeling the loss of cherished certainties? When in a final burst of profound trust he shouted: "Father, into your hands I com-mend my spirit~' (Lk 23:46), was he not a being-for-others stripped down to nothing but trust, having given over to the Father all that was dear to him: Mary, the apostles, Mary Magdalen and the other loyal women, his work of the past thirty-five or so years, and the whole future of his Church? Underneath this crush of even~ts commemorated by Jesus' seven last words, underneath the excruciating agony of the physical, psychological and spiritual levels of Christ's ex.perience, is the fourth level of his joyous strength in the Father's love for him, and in the beautiful "background music" of the Father's tender, caring affection for him. For the death of Christ on the three top levels was simultaneous with the subdued resurrec-tion on the fourth level. This was Christ's continual prayer of being within the Paschal mystery. Has there ever been such intimacy in suffering and joy as that of Christ with the Father and with his people? Thus is revealed dimly the structure of the prayer of being beneath its previous paradoxical features. As Letter,to the Hebrews notes: "For the sake of the joy which lay before him he endured the cross, heedless of its shame" (12:2). The Terrible Liberating, ~iscipHne Of the Prayer of Belng Theprayer of being, therefore, carries within it a terrible, yet beautiful, discipline: the willingness to suffer for what is right and just, true and good. The author of Heb~rews put~ ihe meaning of discipline .bl.untly for us:~ "Endure your trials as the discipline of God who deals with you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline? If you do not know the disciplineof sons, you are not sons but bastards" (12:7-8). Evi, dently God disciplines his people out of affection by allowing them to suffer. As a result, aware of powerlessnes.s, they can be endowed with his power without any fear that th, ey wohld claim this power to be their own. Chapters six to nine of Deuteronomy illustrate how a ,terrible discipline prepares for intimacy with God, for prayerof being. There God declares: "You shall not put the Lord to the test" (6:16), that is, demand that he act in your way at your time and place. Clearly, "It was not because you are the largest of all nations that the Lord set his heart on you and chose you, for you are really the smallest of nations. It was because the Lord loved you" 846 / Review for Religious, November-December, 1986 (7:7-8); in your littleness you do not set the music of the dance with God. "For forty years now the Lord, your God, has directed all your journeying in the desert, so as to test you by affliction and find out whether or not it was your intention to keep his commandments" (8:2); ". the Lord, your God, disciplines you even as a man disciplines his son" (8:5); ". [lest] you become haughty of heart and unmindful of the Lord" (8:14). God's guid-ance through the desert (of prayer of being) may seem directionless to us and may seem to undermine our certainties. But our trustful following keeps us from the crazy deviations of pride and of secret contempt for God's providence. This discipline of the prayer of b'eing is necessary because "otherwise you might say to 3)ourselves, 'It is my own power and the strength of my own hand that has obtained for me this wealth'" (8:17). "No, it is not because of your merits or the integrity of your heart" (9:5). This last statement is strangely reassuring for the person doi.ng prayer of being and feeling virtueless, angry, fearful and empty. Such a person has reason to hope because Christ anticipated this: "Son, though he was, he learned obedience from what he suffered; and when perfected, he became the source of eternal salvation for all who obey him" (Heb 5:8-9). There is, therefore, a scripti]ral basis for the discipline found in prayer of being. This discipline itself, though painful, is actually a liberation produced by the prayer of being. This liberation, however, is not a secret contempt for the bodily and the sensual; such would be a disincarnation, not an incarnation, of Christ. Nor is this liberation the ability to leave a beloved person or a f~ivorite place-possession-job-ambition without suffering regret; this would be more a cold self-centeredness that is ready to detach itself only in order to grab something or someone better. Rather this liberation is: 1) a willingness to be separated from what one loves for the sake of the beloved without ever ceasing to love this beloved' (seeing off the mis-sionary friend withoUt hope of ever meeting again); 2) a'willingness to let someone dear grow freely without trying to control, even though this means great suffering for both (the parent letting the stubborn twenty-year-old make a d(astic mistake in choosing a job--for the sake of his growth in wisdom); 3) a willingness to risk everything to put God or another person ahead of one's business, sporting succesg, work, comfort, or career, even as one continues tO pursue these ventures; 4) a willingness tO choose the good consistently, i

Issue 20.6 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; Carl ]. P]ei]er, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 398 plan of all liturgical worship: 1) the service is begun with a reading; 2) after the reading follows singing; 3) and the service is ended with a prayer. Among the early Christians all prayer services and devotions were carried out accord-ing to this basic plan, and since the third 6r fourth cen-tury this has been the ruling principle of all liturgical services.-" Such a plan is not merely arbitrary, nor is an accidental or aesthetic arrangement of elements. Ac-cording to Father Jungmann: ¯. it is in character with the essential nature of the Christian plan of redemption. Our salvation, typified by the divine word which we receive in the reading, comes from God. It descends from heaven to earth and stirs within the hearts of the faithful the echo of song. Thereupon the prayers and petitions of the Christian community are gathered up and brought back to God on high by the priest. There is something dramatic about this arrangement; through it we actually come to realize what is meant in saying that the liturgy is the public worship of the Church? This structure--reading, song, prayer--is filled out ac-cording to basic themes central to Christian revelation. In the Christian message of salvation and the prayer of the Church, certain themes appear as focal, around which all other truths are centered and from which they receive their meaning.' One of these themes centers on the love and kindness God shows His people. Freely, out of love, He created man; freely and out of even greater love He has worked out man's salvation. Such generous and unmerited good-ness demands a response of love and thanksgiving. Grati-tude is thus ~een as a fundamental attitude of man, and more so of a Catholic: "O give thanks to the Lord, for He is good" (Ps 135:1). It is this scriptural theme of God's love calling forth our grateful response that runs through the proposed Thanksgiving Day "bible vigil." Perhaps a fuller explanation will be helpful. Reading God's plan of salvation is effected and manifested to us by His Word, and according to Scripture this redemptive plan is realized gradually. Somehow man's redemption was to be achieved through Israel, the Lord's chosen peo- -"J. A. Jungmann, s.J., Liturgical Worship (New York: Pustet, 1941), p. 67. Father Jungmann devotes most of this book to a dis-qussion of the basic liturgical groundplan. See also Louis Bouyer, Liturgical Piety (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame' Press, 1955). ~ Jungmann, op. cit., p. 80. * For a fuller treatment of the structure and themes of Christian revelation see Johannes Hofinger, S.J., The Art o] Teaching Chris-tian Doctrine (Notre Dalne: University of Notre Dame Press, 1957) and Mary Perkins Ryan, Key to the Psalms (Chicago: Fides, 1957). Most useful for constructing "bible vigils" is Reading the Word ol God by Lawrence Dannemiller, S.S. (Baltimore: Helicon, 1960). pie. After centuries of intimate relations with Yahweh, this nation brought forth a:Savior; from this race the Word Himself took flesh. And when in the fulness of time God became man, He suffered, died and rose from the dead that men might die with Him to sin and .rise with Him to forgiveness and grace. His redemptive activity continues on through the centuries in His new people, the Mystical Body of Christ, the Church. Finally, He is to come again bringing the divine plan to its fulfillment in the new and eternal Jerusalem. The .plan itself is one; likewise the revelation of the plan is unified in the unique Word of God. The Old Testament, then, is not just a collection of interesting and sometimes edifying stories, but the gradual manifestation of God's plan for our sal-vation. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is also our Father in heaven. He is the one Lord of History, as the Church teaches us in the. liturgy of the Easter Vigil: "O God, we behold your ancient wonders shining even to our own time. For that which the power of your right hand did for one people in freeing them from Egyptian bondage you accomplish now for the salvation of all men by the waters of rebirth." Throughout the Old Testa-ment run basic themes "about God and man's relationship to Him. Although the stories vary,~ the basic relationships do not. Central to the religion o-f the Israelites was the belief that their God, Yahweh, moved by love alone, not-by any merit on their part, had called them, chosen .them out from among the nations, to be .His people_. "You shall be My people, and I will be your~ God" (Ez 36:26). The initiative was wholly on His~part. This call, given initially to Abraham, found its highest expression through Moses in the Exodus, the focal point of Jewish religious history. Their God saved them from slavery, destroyed their pur-suers, and leading them through the desert, formed and purified them into a nation, His chosen people, and fi-nally brought them to the promised.land. The initiative was all His. He perpetuated His call in a covenant with His people, a promise.eternally binding, freely offered out of love. This covenant was prepared for and initiated in the first act of creative love. It became more definitive in the Garden, then with Noah, later with Abraham, and finally with Moses. From then on, it was renewed ritually each yegr by the Hebrew people. Such a covenant renewal ceremony is found, in the book of Nehemiah, 9: 1-55. This then will be the first selection to be read. It is a prayerful remembrance of God's initia-tive in. forming and saving His people, a remembrance of His covenant, His love. After a short period for silent, prayerful reflection on the first reading, a selection from the New Testament is ÷ ÷ ÷ Thanksgiving Da~ Service VOLUME 20, 1961 399 Carl ]. P~ei]er, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS read. It indicates the continuation of God!s plan and its culmination in Christ. In Nehemiah the ritual renewal of the covenant-between Yahweh and His people is re-corded in which' the fundamental beliefs of Israel's reli-gion were proclaimed to the assembled nation. These same ideas are fundamental to our belief, for, as we saw, God's salvific plan continues into our era and culminates in Christ. What went before Christ was not accidental to God's plan, and hence, not accidental to our own reli-gious education and worship. Rather it was a preliminary stage, preparatory to the coming of the great High Priest and His priestly people. In Him all history finds its mean-ing. This is the substance of what is expressed in the second selection, taken from Paul's letter to the Ephe-sians. For what God did for His chosen people through Abra-ham, Moses, and the prophets, He continues now in a more perfect manner for us, the new Israel, through Christ. The Jews wer6 set apart by Yahweh, a chosen nation; we are adopted as His sons, made members of His eternal Son, temples of His Spirit. The Jews He led out of Egyptian slavery; He frees us from the power of Satan. The manna of old is replaced by "bread from heaven," and the vague prophecies of the Old Law have given away to the full revelation of the Word. And in-stead of a promised land "flowing with milk and honey," we look forward to-the eternal banquet, where "eye has not seen, nor ear heard . " Such is the great love of our Father in heaven for us His new people. "He would have all future ages see, in that clemency which he shewed us in Christ Jesus, the surpassing richness of his grace" (Eph 2:8). Song Filled with the realization of the goodness of our Father, of His love for us sinful creatures, we sing out in gratitude, making use of Hig own revealed words, Psalm 135. Joined together in a worshipping community we re-spond to His word, which has just taken vital form through 'its proclamation in our midst. We sing now, the new Israel, an ancient Jewish hymn of thanks. And as it recalls Yahweh'S great deeds for His ~oeople, we make the words our own, singing our thanks for His even more wonderful deeds toward us. Our song of gratitude is rooted in faith, faith in the Word we have just heard. This faith is our response to God's call and covenant; it, is our total, personal commitment to our Father, a total giving of self to God in return for His gifts. As with Abraham and the Israelites, this faith is the fundamental virtue of our Christian life. God calls, elects, chooses. To him whom He chooses, He freely offers His graces, eve~ ! Himself. Our response is faith, belief in what He says, but also belief in Him, personal dedication to Him, flow-ing over into gratitude, confidence and joy? Prayer Our gratitude now takes the form of prayer. We exer-cise our priestly role, proper to us who share the priest-hood of Christ by our baptism and confirmation. And we enumerate with gratitude the gifts of the new covenant. God's plan of salvation, begun in the Jewish nation, cli-maxing in the Incarnation and Redemption of Jesus Christ, continues on to us through the Mystical Christ, the Church. It is only by pertaining to this Body of Christ that the saving action of God reaches us through Christ our Lord. Through membership in the new people of God we are in personal contact with our Redeemer. His word is proclaimed in our midst, His grace is shared with us in our personal encounters with Him in His sacra-ments. Through our union with Him we are enabled to offer our Father a suitable thank-offering, the Mass. And through our ever increasing share in His life we have al-ready a ~beginning of that glory which awaits us with Him in heaven. And all of this, prefigured in Yahweh's rela-tionships with His chosen people, is a completely free gift of our Father. United, then, in one worshipping commu-nity, we offer our thanks to our Father in our united prayer. Finally, after a moment of silent prayer following our vocal prayer, the priest gathers up our grateful expres-sions and offers them to God for us. Christ's mediatorship is continued through His ordained priests. They stand between us and God, not as barriers, but as the normal means by which God comes to us and we reach up to God. Through the priest His Word is proclaimed and finds living reality; through the priest Christ allows us to come directly in contact with Him in the sacraments--a per-sonal encounter between us and our Savior. And through the priest Christ offers our prayers to the Father. Hence the service ends with the priest's prayer as our representa-tive. The particular prayer chosen dates from the year 215 A.D. and was composed by Hippolytus of Rome as a sample that migh~ be used in the first Mass of a newly consecrated bishop. It is one of the earliest extant formu-laries for the Prayer of Thanksgiving, or Eucharistic Prayer, now more commonly called the Canon of the Mass. The text has been somewhat adapted for use in this "bible vigil"; the words of consecration, for example have been omitted, as have other references to sacrifice. What remains is a beautiful prayer of thanksgiving for God's ~ For,a further treatment of faith as a personal response to God, see Jean Mouroux, I Believe (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1959). + 4- 4- Thanksgiving Day Se~vi~e VOLUME 20, 1961 401 Cad 1. Pleiler, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 402 redemptive work through the llfe, death, and resurrection of His Son, Christ Jesus, our Lord. Such, then, is the suggested biblical-liturgical service. Its structure leads to an appreciation of the meaning and purpose of public worship, while its content manifests an essential theme of Christian life an.d revelation. In 'this case, the theme is suited to Thanksgiving Day, Similar "bible vigils" can be worked out for almost any occasion and allow for much variety within the basic group plan of reading, song, prayer. For example, a homily may be preached after the reading(s). And although the Psalms~. are admirably suited to such services, any hymn that fits the theme may be substituted. The priestly prayers of the Mass (Collect, Secret, Preface, Postcommunion) are a rich source of acceptable prayers, as is the Raccolta. And the service may be concluded with Benediction or some other suitable rite. For example, a service constructed on the theme of Baptism might fittingly be concluded with blessing and sprinkling with holy water. So much for the explanation of the ser.vice. The text follows in full, with hymns added at the beginning: and end to round out the basic structure. If used in full, it should take about twenty minutes; verses of the Psalms may be omitted to reduce the time. ENTRANCE HYMN: [stand] Psalm 22" (All sing the antiphon after the cantor and after each verse): HIS GOODNESS SHALL FOLLOW ME ALWAYS, TO THE END OF MY DAYS. My shepherd is the Lord; there is nothing I shall want. FreSh and green are the pastures where he gives me repose. Near restful waters he leads me, to revive my drooping spirit. [Antiphon] He guides me along the right path; he is true to his name. If I should walk in the valley of darkness no evil would I fear. You are there with your Crook and your staff; with these you give me Comfort. [Antiphon] You have prepared a banquet for me in the sight of my foes. My head you have anointed" with oil; my cup is overflowing. [AntiPhon] OThe text of the three psalms used in the service is taken from Joseph Gelincau, S.J., Twenty-Four Psalms and a Canticle (Toledo: Gregorian Institute of America, 1955) with permission of the pub-lishers~ Surely goodness and kindness shall follow me all the, days of my life. In the Lord's own house shall' I dwell for ever and ever. [An[iphon] To the Father and Son give glory, give glory to the Spirit. To God who is, who was, ,:and who will be forever and ever. [Antiphon] ' ¯ GOD'S GIFTS IN PREPARATION: [sit] Nehemiah 9: 1-15, 32.' ~ '~ ¯ Then, ~n the twenty-fourth day of this same month~ the men of Israel met together, fasting, and with sack-cloth about them, and sprinkled with dust, ~nd the whole breed of Israel severed itself from all contact with alien, folk. :. This was the prayer offered by the Levi.tes . Up, friends, .and bless the Lord, your God, as blessed he musE be from the beginning to the end of timel.,Blessed be thy. glorious name, O Lords that is beyond all blessing, and all praise! Heaven is of thy fashioning, and the heaven o~ heavens, and all the hosts t.hat dw~ell there, earth and sea~, and all that earth and sea hold; to all these thou givest the life they have; none so high in heayen but must pay thee worship. It was thou,-Lord God, that didst make' choice of Abram, and beckon ~him away from Chaldea, from the City of Fire. And now~ thou. wouldst call~ him Abraham; a loyal servant thou. did~st find him, and didst make a covenant with him, promising that his race should inherit the lands of .Chanaanite and Hethite, Amorrhite and Pherezite, Jebusite, and Gergesite. That promise, in thy faithfulness, thou didst make good, Thou hadst an eye for the affliction our fathers suffered in Egypt, an ear for their cry of distress at the Red Sea; the pride~of Pharao and Pharao's court and all his people, had not passed unregarded; there were porte.nts, an£ cnarvels, and thy name won renown, as it has w~on renown this day: Thou didst part ~the,w~ters.at their coming, so that' they crossed the sea dry-shod, didst hurl their pursuers into the depths of it, so that they sank like a stone be-neath the rushing waves. Thou thyself didst lead thy people on their journey, hidden by day in a pillar of cloud, by night in a pillar of fire, to light the path they must tread. There, on mount Sinai, thou didst keep tryst with them; thy voice came from heaven to teach them thy just decrees, thy abiding law with all its observance.s, all its wholesome bidding. There thou didst reveal to them ~ From the Old Testament, volume i, in the translation of Mo~: ~ignor Ronald Knox, Copyright 1948, Sheed and Ward, Inc, New York. , ,, + Thanksgiving Day Service VOLUME'20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷" Carl 1. Ptei~er, $.], REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 404 how thy sabbath should be kept holy; law and observance and award thou, through Moses, didst hand down to them. When they were hungry, thou didst give them bread from heaven; when they were thirsty, thou didst bring water out of the rock; and for the goal of their journey didst beckon them on to take possession of this same land, which thou hadst sworn .to give them . To thee, then, we turn, who art our God, to thee, the great, the strong, the terrible God, who didst not forget thy covenant, or the mercy thou hast promised. A MOMENT OF SILENT PRAYER [kneel] GOD'S GIFTS IN FULFILLMENT: [sit] Ephesians 1:3-14; 2:4-10.8 Blessed be that God, that Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us, in Christ, with every spiritual blessing, higher than heaven itself. He has chosen us out, in Christ, before the foundation of the wbrld, to be saints, to be blameless in his sight, for love of him; mark-ing us out beforehand (so his will decreed) to be his adopted children through Jes~us Christ. Thus he would manifest the splendor of that ggace by which he has taken us into his favor in the person of his beloved Son. It is in him and through his blood' that we enjoy redemption, the forgiveness of our sins. So rich is God's grace, that has overflowed upon' us in a full stream of wisdom and~ discernment, to make known to us the hidden purpose of his will. It was his loving design, centered in Christ, to give history its fulfillment by resuming everything in him, all that is in heaven, all that is on earth, summed up in him. In him it was our 10t to be called, singleff out before-hand to suit his purpose, (for it is he who is at work every-where, carrying out the designs of his will); we were to manifest his glory, we who were the first to set our hope in Christ; in. him you too were called, when you listened to the preaching of the truth, that gospel which is your salvation. In him you too learned to believe, and had the seal set on your faith by the promised gift of the Holy Spirit; a pledge of the inheritance which is ours, tO re-deem it for us and to bring us into possession of it, and so manifest God's glory . How rich Godis in mercy, with what an excess of love he lok, ed usI Our sins had made dead men of us, and he, in'giving life to Christ, gave life to us too; it is his grace that has saved you; raised us up too, enthroned us too above the heavens, in Christ Jesus. He would have all future ages see, in that clemency which he shewed us in~ Chri'st Jesus, the surpassing richhess of his grace. Yes, it was grace that saved you, with faith for its instrumen.t; it s From the New Testament in the translation of Monsignor Ron-aid Knox, Copyright 1944, Sheed and Ward, Inc., New York. '/ did not come from yourselves, it wa~ God's gift, not from any action of yours, or there would be room for pride. No, we are his design; God has created us'-in Christ Jesus, pledged to 'such good actions as he has prepared befor~- hand, to be the employment of ~3ur lives. OUR GRATEFUL RESPONSE IN SONG: [stand] Psahn 135 (All sing the following refrain after each phrase of the cantor): FOR HIS' GREAT LOVE IS WITHOUT END O give thanks to the, Lord for he is go~d, FOR HIS GREAT LOVE IS WITHOUT END. Give thanks to the God of gods . Give thanks to the Lord ,of lords . Who alone has wrought marveilous works . whose wisdom it was made the skies,. who, spread the earth on :the seas, . It was he that made ~the great lights,. the sun to rule in the day . the moon and the stars in the night,. The first-born of the Egyptians he smote . brought Israel out from their midst . arm outstretched, with power in his hand . He divided the Red Sea in two . made Israel pass through the midst,. flung Pharaoh and his ~orce in the sea,. Through the desert his people he led . Nations in their greatness he struck . Kings in their splendour he slew . He let Israel inherit their land . On his servants their land he bestowed,. He remembered us in our distress . And he snatched us away from our foes,. He gives food to all living things . To the God of heaven give thanks . OUR GRATEFUL RESPONSE IN PRAYER: [kneel] ~lifford Howell, s.J.~ Priest: O Lord God, we thank you. People: ~O LORD GOD, WE THANK YOU. Pr: We thank you *°that our Lord Jesus Christ still lives on in His Church. ~ The text of the people's prayer is qubt¢d with pei'mission of the publisher from the leaflet by Clifford H6well, S.J., You are Christ's Body (St. Louis: Pio Decimo Press, 1949), p. 3. ÷ Thanksgiving DWy Service VOLUME 20, 1961 4o~. 4, 4, + Carl 1. P]eif~r," $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 406 Pe:,.WE THANK YOU * .,THAT THROUGH HIS CHURCH *' HE CONTINUES HIS ACTIV-ITIES AMONG MEN. Pr: We thank You * that when the C[aurch teaches * it is Christ who teaches. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT WHEN THE CHURCH SACRIFICES * IT IS CHRIST WHO SACRIFICES. Pri We thank You Christ ~vho doe~ all these things * through the Church, His Mystical Body. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT~WE HAVE BEEN MADE MEMBERS * OF THIS MYSTICAL BODY OF CHRIST. Pr: We thank You * that as members of this Body * we can worship You through Christ our Head * in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. Pe: WE THANK YOU * THAT WE MAY OBTAIN ALL GRACES * FROM YOUR HOLY SACRA-MENTS. Pr: We thank You * that through Your Church we may attain to Eternal Life. Pe: O LORD GOD, WE THA.NK YOU~ * TO YOU BE PRAISE IN YOUR CHURCH * AND IN JESUS CHRIST * FOR EVER AND EVER. * AMEN. A MOMENT OF SILEN~ T PRAYER. OUR PRAYERFUL RESPONSE OFFERED TO GOD THROUGH THE PRIEST: [stand] Hippolytus oI Rome?° Priest: The Lord be with you. P~eople: AND WITH YOU ALSO. Priest: Lift up your':h~arts. People: WE HAVE. LIFTEI~ THEM UP TO THE LORD. Priest: Let us give thanks to the Lord. People: IT IS RIGHT AND JUST. Priest: We give thanks to You, O God, "through Your be-loved servant, Jesus Christ, whom You have sent dtoe eums eirn a tnhde smee lsassetn tgimere° so fto Y boeu or ucro usanvsieol.r Haned i sre- Your Word, inseparable from You; thrqugh Him You have made all things and in Him You are well pleased. You did send Him from heaven into, the womb of the Virgin; carried in her womb He was made flesh and was manifested as Your Son; being born of the Holy Ghost and,. of the Virgin. FulfilIing,your Will and acquiring for You a holyl people He stretched out His hands in suffering in~ lo The full text of this thanksgiving prayer can be found in J. A Jungmann, s.J., Public Worship (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1957j~] pp. 92-3.if' order that He might free from suffering those who believed in Him . He was handed over to volun-tary suffering to rob death of its power, to break the bonds of the devil, to tread hell underfoot, to give light to the just, to set up a boundary stone and an-nounce the resurrection . Remembering there-fore His death and resurrection., we thank You that You have considered us worthy to stand before You and to serve You. And we pray that You will send down the Holy Spirit on Your Church. Be-cause You gather all together in unity, we pray that You will grant the fulness of the Holy Spirit to all the saints., that their faith may be strengthened in truth, and that we may praise and glorify You through Your servant Jesus Christ, through whom honor and glory be unto You, O Father, with Your Son and the Holy Spirit in Your Holy Church both now and for ever and ever. People: AMEN. CONCLUDING HYMN: [stand] Psalm 99 (All sing the antiphon after the cantor and after each verse.): ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA Cry out with joy to the Lord, all the earth. Serve the Lord with gladness. Come before him, singing for joy. [Antiphon] Know that he, the Lord, is God. He made us, we belong to him, we are his people, the sheep Of his flock. [Antiphon] Go within his gates, giving thanks. Enter his courts with songs of praise. Give thanks to him and bless his name. [Antiphon] Indeed, how good is the Lord, eternal his merciful love; he is faithful from age to age. [Antiphon] Give glory to the Father AJmighty, to 'his Son, Jesus Christ, the Lord, to the Spirit who dwells in our heartsY [Antiphon] n For further information on "bible vigils" see "Organizing a Bible Vigil," by Kilian McDonnell, O.S.B., in Worship, February, 4. 1960, pp. 144-48 and the article by the present writer, "Popular 4. Devotions--a New Look!" to be published soon in Homiletic and Pastoral Review. Examples of such vigils can also be found in Wor-ship, January and March, 1959; March, 1960; January, 1961. Tiuml~giving Day Serv~e VOLUME 20, 1961~ 407 RICHARD M. MCKEON, S.J. ' Human Relations in Religion ÷ ÷ ÷ Richard M. McKeon, $.J., is the director of the Institute for In-dustrial Relations at Le Moyne College, Syracuse $, New York. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 408 The title of this article may seem strange to many. Cer-tainly a great deal has been written about the human factor as applied to the religious and the priestly life. But we wonder if there has ever been a systematic study of human relations in religion similar to the hundreds which are being made in the field of industry. Before me .is book, Human Relations in Management, numbering over 750 pages. Subject to correction, I doubt if there is a similar book concerning human relations in religious management. The following are some of the topics treated in the book: the human factor in industry, the philosophy management, conditions of effective leadership, motiva-tion and increased productivity, work group behavior, basic psychological factors in communication, the psy-chology of participation, dealing with resistance to change, empathy--management's greatest need. If great accent is being placed on human relations "as a systematic, develop-ing body of knowledge devoted to explaining the behavior of industrial man," should there not be a similar body knowledge based on the best findings of the behavioral sciences to explain the human relations factor.in religious and priests? The history of industrial relations shows how the human element was sorely neglected up to the start of the twenti-eth century. That was why in 1891 Leo XIII issued his famous encyclical letter On the Condition of the Working Class. Up to World War II there were some noted ad-vances in this field, as the Hawthorne Studies and the im-petus prompted by the passage of the National Labor Relations Act show. But from 1945 to the present the study and application of human relations in industry has been phenomenal. With these thoughts in mind I shall make comment on an article, "The Human Relations of a Foreman," pub-lished in the Monthly Letter of the Royal Bank of Canada for May, 1961. By applying some of the topics to the re-ligious and priestly life, the need for further exploration will be evident. "Why is the supply of men of supervisory capacity so thin?" Why have so many superiors in religion been lacking in the qualities which make for good administra-tion? Many answers will be given and I have listened to them for over forty years. Some will point out men who have been advanced with no worthwhile achievement behind them--merely because they were sources of no trouble. Is there also a chance that,administrative pro-motion in religion is connected with nepotism and cliques? It is true, of course, that the principles and rules of re-ligious life will sustain su~cient order in a community even under a poor administrator; the vow of obedience is the great foundation here. But in this article let us set aside the supernatural side and try to view human re-lations in the light of modern industry. Let us begin by remarking that just as a foreman in a factory needs "poise, wisdom, suppleness of mind, courage, and energy, besides the know-how of his technical special-ity," so also are these qualities to be hoped for in a su-perior. A superior is called upon to be an executive. Do the current methods of selecting a superior prove that he possesses executive talent for this or that particular position? Take, for instance, the priest who has charge of the ma-terial things in a seminary or a religious house where the teachers and students number one hundred or more, As far as shelter, food, and material services are concerned, such an institution is like a hotel. While custom, tradition, and discipline will keep things going, it is evident that such a priest would do a far better job if he had a course in hotel management. We all know the grand rush for our priests and religious to go on for higher studies in order that Catholic intellectual life be improved. This is to be commended. But is it not logical also to send those in charge of the ordinary living conditions of religious and priests to special studies to improve such conditions? Such training should result in better economical operation as well as in better living conditions. Have you ever tried to dry yourself with the moisture-proof towels found in certain communities? "Good human relations is people getting along well to-gether." It is not enough to rely on the religious or the priestly garb to command proper respect. Respect should b'e won by "intelligence, administrative competence, and the power to make men follow him~ because of personal attributes." All evidence of playing a policeman's role mnst be avoided. + + + Human Relations VO~-UME 20, 1961 409 4. o÷ R. M~ McKeon, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 410 Every religious and priest is a person; the superior must show a. sincere interest in each one; he must give him a sense of really belonging to the team--the institution under the superior's charge. The superior's chair must not be turned into a throne; around it there should be an atmosphere empty of fear but rich with sympathetic un-derstanding. "The best company to work for, and the company that gets the best work done, is the company with a strong company-group feeling." There are and will be divided religious communities; they are not pleasant places to live in.,How can such a situation be remedied? One answer is by superiors "who obtain the collaboration of people in their work-groups through loyalty and liking and coopera-tion." A superior will assign a subject a task; the subject will obey. But it is certain that the job will be better clone if the superior has excited enthusiasm, initiative, loyalty. "However.tall a man may stand in the hierarchy of management, he is not a successful executive unless he un-derstands the points of view and the problems of the rank and file of his workers." This statement is equally true of the religious superior. Unless his interest is sincere and sympathetic, subjects may do their work; but human na, ture being what it is, we wonder how good the work will be. ~A superior must prove himself superior; otherwise his authority is bound to suffer. It is necessary to strengthen that authority by personal performance and demonstrated ability, Good managers ask their workers for counsel and help. They know, that fine ideas are often buried in the mind waiting for the right tapping. The post-war growth of suggestion systems is proof that industry values the min'd of subordinates. It gives courteous hearing to such ideaS; it allows workers to take part in decisions. By such action workers feel that their jobs are important and that they share in responsibility. A few words abou~ discipline. In his own development, a manager should learn to obey. "But discipline is more than blind obedience. The word itself comes from ,the same root as the word 'disciple,' and a disciple is one who follows the teachings and the example of a respected leader." A good manager will have discipline because he is fair in the allotment of work and in the handling of grievances and because he inspires. He is not worried about "losing face" by appearing too human. In a crisis he will be forceful but friendly. The same things will be true of a good superior in reli-gion. Moreover, in his case there is the supreme examplel of Christ in His handling of His disciples to drive home many a lesson applicable to religious life. Christ con7 demned, sin; He had love and mercy for the sinner. "Probably foremost among the techniques of handling men is .the building of morale through praise and en-couragement. Commendation by a superior is of great consequence. It breeds loyalty and it inspires the worker to follow "through." Religious and priests are human and will remain so till their dying breath. Human nature likes encouragement especially when skies are dark. Religious and priests are also humble; when just praise from su-periors is lacking, they will console themselves by remem-bering the words of our Lord: ~'Even so you also, when you have done everything that was commanded you; say 'We are unprofitable,servants; we have done what it _was our du_ty to do.' " But praise justly won for doing one's duty weli means a. great deal in religious life. It does boost morale and it .strengthens self-confidence. It makes~a man willing to as-sume more difficult work. Moreover, when a superior gives credit to his community on the occasion of his in-stitution receiving public praise, he will build up initia-tive and a mutual sense of responsibility. I believe that the words of Peter F. Drucker, an. expert in management matters, should be applied to a religious superior. He writes: "Who is a manager can be defined only by a man's function and by the contribution he is expected to make. And the function which distinguishes the manager above all others is his educational one. The one contribution he is ~uniquely expected to make is'to give others vision and ability to perform:It is vision and moral responsibility that, in the last analysis, define the manager." In the previously mentioned textbook, Human R~la-tions in Management, over one hundred pages are de-voted to communication. I am willing to wager that no treatise on the religious life has a quarter amount of'this topic developed as it should be. If successful communica-tion is necessary for the functioning of industry, it should be equally, true for the religious life. Effective communication can build up a stronger com-munity spirit. How embarrassing it has been for religious and priests to be among lay people and hear, for ex-ample; that a new building will be built on the campus about which they have heard nothing. XVhen special work is assigned, it is,well for superiors to give the subject all information possible or refer him to one. who can help him. When information is passed through several superiors, measures should be'.taken to keep the original information intact. If the lower superiors are not able to explain clearly the.orders and policies of the "top brass," confusion will be more confounded among the rank and file. Communication is a two-way street. A good superior will listen to his subjects. Many have excellent brains + ÷ + Human Relations VOLUM.E 20, 196,1 ÷ ÷ 4. R. M. McKe~n~ $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 412 and are trained in special fields. To pose as all-knowing and not to recognize the interest and contribution of such subjects for the common good is a fatal error. As.I was writing this article, the new president of the college called a special meeting of the community to in-form them about plans for three proposed buildings and for the future development of the entire campus. Three members of the architect's firm spent over two hours ex-plaining intimate aspects of the plans and answering ques-tions. Then followed an informal discussion for another h6ur. As a result, the entire community has a greater in-terest. The president said very little outside of thanking the architects; but he was responsible for this excellent,job of communication. "Sound administration is the sum total of mature imagination, mature perception, mature judgment, and mature humanism." It is well to remember that maturity is not a matter of years of service but of mental develop-ment. It calls for self-discipline manifested by regularity in work habits, exactness in execution, and alertness; More-over "healthy self-criticism and continued willingness to learn are among the important attributes of the foreman" --and likewise for the religious superior. One purpose of this article is to call attention to the great number of books and magazines dealing with the human aspects of industry. In them will be found a wealth of material which can be applied to the religious and priestly life. It is also true that we of the Church, if prop-erly trained, can give to industry the constructive princi-ples of our Christian heritage: the Sermon on the Mount, for example; can be developed into a powerful treatise in industrial relations. What holds for leadership in industry is also true in religion. "Leadership means to initiate, to instruct, to guide, to take responsibility, to be out in front . The joy of leadership and the thrill of being in charge of a group of people does not consist in doing a terrific iob yourself, but in spending your last ounce of energy and encouragement to see the group crack through to success." There have been magnificent leaders in the priesthood and religious life as history testifies. But certainly the Church would make better progress in these critical times if our leaders were well vbrsed in human relations within their respective groups. If the development of human nature studies in industry can be of help to the Church, let us be humble and sincere in translating the best things into the priestly and religious life. SISTER MARTHA MARY, c.s.J. The, Wisdom of Praise Why is p?aise such a welcome sound in our ears? Is it be- Cause we are so egotistic or is it rather that we, as social beings, have such a deep need for the approval of others? St. Thomas remarks that dependence on others is typical of the rational creature. Security in the companionship of our family and associates is our first and most enduring need as a human being. No amount of food, entertain-ment, or suhshine will take th~ place of this ingredient of life. Every li¢ing person needs to know that he is loved and appreciated; and if such recognition is not forthcoming, life loses much of its meaning. He feels that he is'maimed in some interior and frightening way, for deep in his heart everyone agrees with the poet's words: "No man is an is-land." It is interesting to note that our Lord praised people without any hesitation. He praised the widow for her in-significant contribution in the, temple, Mary Magdalene for loving much, the centurion for his faith. What glow-ing words He had for St. John the Baptist, a supposed rivalI1 Sometimes He made these remarks in the presence of the person praised; sometimes not. What is important is that we know our Lord did communicate to others who were with Him the conviction that He appreciated them. He did it by words of praise in many recorded instances. True, He warned against flattery, but that was something quite different, the antithesis of praise--false praise. Jesus Christ was always the enemy of hyp.ocrisy; He was always on the side of truth because He is truth. The qnly true praise is truth. Thus flattery is ruled out from the start. How could it have any meaning when it has no basis in truth? Praise is based on real accomplishment or at least the capacity for ~ Lk 21 : 2-4; 7 : 44--~0; 7 : 9; 7 : 26-28. Sister Martha Mary, C.S.J., teaches religion and English at St. Jos-eph Academy, 1015 South Monroe Avenue, Green Bay; ,Wisconsin. VOLUME 20, 1961 41.~ 4. 4. Sister Martha Mar~ REVIEW ~:OR RELIGIOUS 414 this achievement; flattery is an appeal to another's vanity. Praise flows from principle; flattery comes from policy. Praise is genuine; flattery, is counterfeit. Yet, just as no one rejects all currency because he knows that counterfeit money is in circulation,, so no one would wisely reject all praise simply because flattery does exist. Praise is a great goo~ because it is the straightforward recognition of the cooperation of another with the grace of God. Every worthwhile deed a person accomplishes is brought to fruition under the grace of God without whom no one can do the ~lightest thing. This awareness of the good in others is made tangible by words of praise and by the pleasant relationship which these words set up. Praise be-comes the externalization of the empathy within the heart. It is a combination of joy, gladness, and great-heartedness. It is the visible expression of love and admiration. It is the positive keeping of the eighth commandment which is so closely connected with the great commandment. The Christian is so busy bearing true, glowing, enthusiastic witness to the neighbor that he chnnot bear false witness. To praise, then, is to be virtuous. But is praise not t~o be considered_ dangerous to hu-mility? Will it not be aft inducement to pride? Will it not draw us away from God and focus our attention on self? St. Thomas allays our fears on this point. He says that praise can be a very good thing, and this for several rea-sons. Rightfulpraise is iri reality the praise of God through whose power the good ~eeds have been performed. Sec-ondly, the praise of good may stimulate others to emulate these good acts. Finally, prhise is a means by which one can come to recognize good qualities in himself, the talents which God has entrusted to him. Once recognized, these talents can be developed and the person possessing them can thank God in all humility for the many gifts he has received. How could he be grateful if he did not know what God had given? Awareness brings gratitude. In these words, St. Thomas points out that praise is a means to an end; it i's not to be sought as an end in itself.2 God is the end, but praise is a very powerful stimulant to approach Him more quickly. The theological viewpoint receives strong support from psychologists who agree that vanity, conceit and other un-desirable qu.aliti~s flourish widely where recognitiofi is not given, for they serve as modes of self-defense when a per-son's sense of personal worth is or is thought .to be under attack. Humility flourishes best in an atmosphere of loving approval, and the normal means for making known this approval is praise. Regarding this, Sister Annette spoke at some length to religious superiors at the 1959 Institute of Spirituality: ¯ Summa theologiae, 1-2, q. 132, a. 2. All that you have to do to demonstrate that there really is no incompatibility between humility and a sense of personal' worth is to work very hard and consistently for a while at giv-ing your Sisters a sense of personal worth. Show your appreci-ation, of ~hat they are. doifig. Give. them praise whenever, p.os-s~ ble . And you will see more evidences of genuine humility than you did before this principle of psychology was applied so assiduously in your hguse. You see, it is the secure S~ster, the Sister who feels that she counts for something with her superior and with her community, who can afford to be humble. She is not continually being called upon to defend herself . A sense of p.ersonal worth is not only ~ao detriment to the virtue of hu-mility but it is also a natural help to. the .acquisition of humility.8 Father Nuttin notes that individual, actions tend to be repeated in .proportion to the success achieved: ~Experimental data about the way human personality de-velops from past experience show that normal forms of be-havi'our and the dyndmic forces which lie behind them, tend,to develop according to the success achieved; that is to say, forms of behaviour which lead to a satisfactory result are maintained by theoorganism, whilst the kinds of behaviour~ that end in fail-ure or a comparatively unsatisfactory result are increasingly eliminated.' If such is the case, ignoring good actiom, or worse yet, condemning them, may be a p6sitive deterrent to the praiseworthy development of another; Whether we wish to be or not, we constitute someone else's env~ironment. Now the question can be asked: Who should praise? Theologians and psychologists agr~ee that"~ tO produce its most desirable effects, praise must be given'by those who matter to us. Father Lord, in perhaps his greatest pamph-let, In Praise of Praise, comments thus: I should be quick to praise and eager to approve those who are connected with me by blood and kinship. The nearer the re-lati. onship, the more spontaneous and generous should-be my praise. I should gladly praise those who in the slightest .way depend on me. Their dependence extends to a real need for a state-ment that I like them and their work. I should be quick to notice and point out the good work of associates. Assoctation can easily turn out to be less the'occasion for friendship than for rivalry. That is tragic. Men and women thrive under the approval of those who work at their side. I am wise if I.praise those who are or could be my rivals. I may be sure the praise given to them is not stolen from me. Indeed, if I were to play a calculating and selfish game, I can remember that when I praise a rival and speak well of work that parallels my own, I am displaying my own generosity of soul.8 ~ Sister Mary Annette, C.S.J., "Environmental Factors Conditioning Personal Development," in Proceedings oI the 1959 Sisters' Institute o] Spirituality, edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. (Notre Dame: Uni-versity of Notre Dame Press, 1960); pp. 105-06. ¯ ' Joseph Nuttin, Psychoanalysis and Personality (New.York: Sheed and Ward, 1953), p. 185. ~ Daniel A Lord, S.J., In Praise o[ Praise (St.Louis: Queen's Work, 1953), pp. 47-8. + ÷ + VOLUME "20, 1961 415 $ist~ Ma~tha Ma~y REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 416 It is a known fact that many persons in the United States, even religious, go to 'a psychiatrist to have selbconfidence restored. How has it been lost? Might not a steady diet of apreciation have helped to prevent such personality starv-ation? The duty to praise is far'reaching indeed. It includes family, superiors, associates, everyone--in varying degrees. But for those in a pgsition of authority, the duty is more pressing because the results are more telling. What about religious superiors? Where praise exists, there is a smooth-running, happy community. Where recognition is never given, the virtue of the subjects is tested to the extremes; duty is made very difficult. A much-lo~ed superior general used to say to her subjects: "Do this, Sister dear, with the grace of God and your own smartness." She made her subjects feel that the cooperation they gave to God was tremendous and that they were great persons. They left her presence feeling that they could conquer the world for Christ. Deep in their hearts they felt, too, that perhaps their cooperation had been somewhat defective in the past, but that such a thing would never happen again. Such attitude of mind is healthy. Just the opposite is the de-flation felt when one has been told how inconsequential" one,s achievements and capabilities are. There is no to de better, just a dead feeling that one's clay feet match the rest of one's anatomy. There is always', the danger too, that since religious regard superiors the special representatives of God in their lives, unguarded and thoughtless remarks may be taken very seriously. The commitment of a religious demands excellence performance because what is done for Christ should be' perfection itself. However, a superior who takes the ex-cellent performance of her subjects for granted, does not establish a happy community feeling. The mere fact she provides a well-balanced diet for them, comfortable sleeping quarters, and the proper medicine for them when~ they are sick, does not compensate for a lack of confidence' and trust. Sisters value such comments as: "You did that well, Sister"; "I heard Dr~ Jones comment on your "The talk you gave at assembly was splendid"; "That apple pie tasted just like my mother's." When~ such remarks are made, the small talk of religious becomes, big talk because it makes each member feel that she is necessary person in her religious family, Does this mean that the praise must be all on the side the superior? Should the subject praise the superior? Ob-viously, since praise which is true praise is merely aspect of 19ve, the subject ought to show her appreciationl! for her superior. Too often this manifestation of regard classified as "polishing the apple" or "getting a stand-Yet, in religious communities no one ever aoes anyt alone. Subjects must back their superiors, not just from a sense of duty but in a happy manifestation of esprit de corps. This is best done when appreciation is shown on both sides; therefore, subjects ought not to fear to tell their superiors that a job has beefi well done, that they ap-preciate kindnesses. On the whole, superiors receive less praise than they should. They need kind words to counter-balance the worry and responsibility they have to shoulder. Superiors do a better job when they feel the warmth of subjects' love and admiration. When is the best time to praise a person? Obviously there is no pat answer for this; still it seems that praise should be given as soon as possible after achievement as it is a powerful tonic for relieving the fatigue concomitant with difficult work. It should be given, also in the tedium of steady progress toward distant goals, and it should be given at the moment of failure when discouragement may overwhelm one. In fact, there is no time unsuitable for praise; yet, it is of least value when it is prefaced by un-kind remarks simply because there is little likelihood that it will be believed. Praise, then, we may conclude, is a powerful incentive to virtue when it comes from one who matters to us, when it concerns a good action in an aspect of life which is im-portant to us, and when it is rightly timed. Praise is pre-cious and abundantly at hand. Then why is there so little of it in circulation? Observation will furnish the answer. Praise cannot thrive where there is selfishness, thoughtless-ness, and jealousy, It does not spring from misinterpreted moral principles. Praise is choked in the worldliness of our product-conscious age. All our superlatives have been cheapened in advertisements of such things as cars, beer, patent medicine, soap, and toothpaste. The people who invented these things have usually never been heard of. It seems that only diseases are named for their discoverers. Since the product has taken precedence over the person, we praise the product and ignore the person who devised it. This subtle and damaging form of worldliness can not only creep into religious communities but even thrive un-der the protection of ill-applied moral principles. The extent of the damage which results is almost impossible to gauge. This is true because very few people in the world have enough self-confidence to compensate for not receiving it from others. In our age, most people, rather than tending to pride, seem to be on the opposite side. They tend to be too afraid, infantile, immature, or in a Thomistic sense, pusillanimous. We are more like the man in the parable of the talents who buried his one talent. It is an odd, Jansenistic notion, I suppose, that makes many of us afraid to encourage others for fear we will make them ÷ ÷ Prate VOLUME 201 1961 proud. This is least likely to happen in our age. Rather we seem to need true encouragement to help us along the way.~ The need that is most basic,to our spirit is the need to be loved. We cannot live normally without it, It is being loved by others that gives us our sense of personal worth. Why should we hesitate to let this love shine through our words? Granted that praise does good to others. Does it help the one who bestows it? Yes. Praise dilates the heart. It fills us with love. It makes us outgoing. It makes us want to live life, not just to undergo it. Hearts that sing with praise are far removed from the dry rot of egotism. St. Thomas in explaining why God demands our praise and worship for Himself, underlines the fact that we are the ones who are benefited~ not God. Praise opens us up to God so that we can make contact with the divine. An analogous thing happens when we praise our neighbor. We praise God when we praise what He has made. Thus true praise finds its beginning in the worship of God. °Charles A. Curran, "Some Basic Factors in the Formation of Feminine Character and Spirituality," in Proceedings o! the 1959 Sisters" Institute o[ Spirituality, edited by Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C. (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1960), pp. 59-60. 4- Sister Martha Mary REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 418 FATHER AIDAN, C.P. The Examination of Conscience Cemeteries are not, I suppose, places to which we would willingly go to 'pass our time. It is true that the grave-zligger in Hamlet sang at his grave-making, but theh 'custom hath made it in hima property of easiness"; less frequent visitors find light-heartedness the least of their emotions. If the churchyard is well=kept, colorful, and dive with flowers; the contrast between what it looks like ~nd what it serves' as is themore marked; if on the other ,Land it is neglected and untended, theatmosphere of g'en;., eral mournfulness and melancholy befitting the place is dl the more enhanced. No doubt Gray's "Elegy" has done .nuch to contribute to this association of ideas, but the ,~ensive sadness he found in his churchyard is a feeling =ommon to nearly all. I wonder whether a religious about to make his examen ¯ f conscience ever finds himself oppressed by much the ame sensation. Here we are---daily invited to 'attend and :arefully inspect the tombs of our buried ~hopes, our luickly perished good resolutions, our infant virtues; to emember carefully all the ills and diseases that did them o swiftly to death, and thereby to guard more effectively ,gainst the future attacks which we know to be inevitable. 1~o return again and again to the scede of so many defeats, o behold repeatedly evidences of such .feeble efforts--it an be a depressing pilgrimage, so depressing that th6 de- ,otion essential to any pilgrimage quickly evaporates,and ve fall into a routine performance of a task which ought o be, must be, fulfilled: And: tlien, perhaps, our resolutions, like everything me-hanical, begin to wear down. We become less convinced ,f the utility of the practice;, after all, we know ourselves ~retty welt by flow, so wliavis the point of this cons'~ant elf-analysis? Our duties keep us busy, our day is a full ohm, ,nlooked-for circumstances rob us of our precioffs~ mo-aenis; they surely can not be squandered on so profitless ÷ ÷ ÷ Father Aidan, C.P., teaches English at. St. Gabriel's College, Blythe Hall, Orraskirk, Lancs., England. VOLUME 20, 1961 419 Father Aidan, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 420 and dispiriting an employment. It can well be treated more cursorily, shortened, even omitted altogether. We are amazed to read what great store has been set on the examen by spiritual writers-~quite reputable ones, too~ and we can only feel that they are given to pious exaggera-tion. Yet for all our specious reasoning, the examen is an es-sential feature in our spiritual life, Perhaps it is not merely our practice of it, but our attitude towards it that stands in need of re-orientation. Perhaps we should remember more firmly that it represents not a solo effort with our-selves as judge and jury, plaintiff and defendant, but a joint partnership between ourselves and Christ. After all, the dead we mourn in our own little cemetery were also once His. He is concerned about all those abortive efforts, those frustrated failures, those sadly neglected promises. The sorry wreckage we contemplate so ruefully is not merely the ruin of our own hopes; it is also the thwarting of His loving desires for us. If we remember His presence,~ His concern in what we do, then perhaps we shall not find it too heart-breaking or too strength-sapping a task. When we look out of a window at a view beyond, we, are really lo~king at two things. We see the window itself,I and through it we see the landscape. Our gaze, it is true,,, is focused on the view, and we are aware of the windowl only secondarily, in a vague sort of way. Further, the more magnificent and appealing the view, the less conscious we are ot~ the intervening glass. There is a certain analogy here with our examen. Our souls should be like clear glass, through Which can be seen the magnificent spectacle of God. Too often, however, that unclouded pane becomes speckled and spotted with dust and dirt, so that it steadily grows opaque. It is to removing the source of that dirt that our examen is directed, so that~ we may look beyond to the splendor of divine brightness, Obviously, to clean merely for the sake of cleaning, like a fussy house-proud housewife, is a soulless occupation. The window is cleaned so that it may be seen through-~ that the beholder may gaze in full enjoyment at the beauty beyond. And when we are once convinced that the view is really worth looking at, surely we labor more eagerly at the window cleaning. In other words, when we attend to keeping clean the window of our soul, we must have our gaze steadily focused on the sight of our Divine Lord beyond. We should not rest in a sterile contemplation of our own limitations-- that way lies discouragement--but should compare them, at once with the unlimited virtues in the Sacred Heart Of Christ. He can, and He will, help us to remove those limitations, if we sincerely will to allow Him to do it. The sincere will to let Him have His way--perhaps i.t, ~as been the lack of this that has made our examens in the past so tedious, so disheartening, so~ fruitless. So easy to allow a gush of self-pity to drown the good resolution; so easy to stand idle, paralyzed with dismay, at the revela-tion of our utter weakness; so e~igy to forget our Divine Partner in the examen, that "combined. operation" that is nothing less than the accomplishment, together with Him, af the redemption He has died to bring, us. This should be remembered even if our examen ,has lacked more than sincere good will, and has been only a perfunctory formality--a mere lip-service without any ,eart-searching.: A few pet imperfections hurriedly re-clewed, their number estimated vaguely if at all, some nechanical acts~of sorrbw and petition, and we rise hastily _o get on with the real business of the dayRsomething for which we can see some positiveresult and tangibl~.fruit Of :ffort. Never a substitute for sincerity; formality has, llere ~. fossilizing effect; every subsequent examen only serves _o add a further stratum in the soul and renders future ~clamation more and more remote. Yet if with us works Dne for whom no obstacle exists, save only in our own tardened wills, we can not doubt the outcome. ~ There can be no excuse of "parvity of matter"~in our .elf-analysis. We are never likely to run short of raw ma, erial.'Our vows, our duties, the virtues we should practice, ,ur attitude to and our contacts with our neighbor--all ,r0vide us with food enough for reflection, and after re, iection, action. If it seems otherwise, then we know with ertainty that we are deceiving ourselves. Five loaves and wo fishes seemed at first a scanty meal for a few men; yet, _~lessed by our Divine Lord, they provided ample nourish- ,-tent for five thousand--and still there were left twelve ~askets of fragments. If we complacently survey our soul :nd can see little therein to engage our attention for long, ;'e need the blessing of Christ upon our efforts to detect ,ur infidelities; then we shall be kept busy indeed. Our poverty, for instance--what can we check on there? .~o great breach, perhaps, but are there no ,lesser infideli-ies? A practical distrust of Providence, for example; else ;,hy do we so often hoard up so much for such~remote ontingencies? How about our spirit of detachment? Why 11 those knick-knacks and bric-a-brac that so drearily ollect the dust in our rooms? They would be at home no loubt in a drawing room, but in a religious cell?. "But, ,f course, I should willingly give them up if the superior sked me for them." And how likely is that? Superiors rave surely more sense than to ask their subjects for lbums-of photographs, tawdry little souvenirs, showy ittle gewgaws, or even that battered copy of the New I'estament, guarded so jealously since profession day-- or its sentimental value only. VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~ Or, as superiors, have we put purposes before persons; The purpose we have in mind, that is, before the .persons we should have in mind, those under us whom we are responsible to bring closer to Christ. Have we neglected to give them what we might have done well to give them, with the excuse that necessary retrenchments must be made in order to meet the expenses of some pet project of ours? Has there been an over-cautious pruning of certain preliminary expenses, which in the long run will impair the success of the complete scheme as a whole? We must be poor after the manner of Christ. The key: note of His way of living was simplicity. He did not create artificial needs; He did not hanker after what conduced' merely to comfort. He 'accepted what was given, when it was .given, and did not repine; He slept how, when, and Where He could, and was content; born in another man',, stable, He was buried in another man's tomb. All through His life, His indifference about means shines out: "Do no~ fret~ over your life"; "Be not solicitous, therefore.,' He showed practically His self-aband0nment to the provi: dential.care of His heavenly Father. Analysis of our practice of obedience is another useful mine of self-information. Perhaps our faith here has bei come imperceptibly weaker over the years; we are more conscious of the ,human limitations of the superior ~than we are of the fact that he represents Christ for us. (Yet suppose our Lord had seen the cross merely as a painful instrument of an ignominious death?) Would we not go freely and willingly to Christ to discuss our ideas, plans, suggestions-not trying to catch Him at an off-moment of distraction or when we know He is in a "good mood;!' or when we have paved the way for a successful issue b careless hints? Would we not abide by His decision, after discussion, He gave judgment against our petition~ so obviously to us the best for all concerned? If He were to order us tosome employment which we felt would only expose us to almost certain failure, with all its consequem mortification, we would surely not ~'twist and turn frenzied efforts at evasion. He needs our efforts to do Hi., work about as much :as the sun needs a candle to light thb world; but He does look 'for our good will. Or as superiors, remembering that the sole purpose ot the authority we hold from Christ is to bring those ~ndel us nearer to Him, have we really tried to understand sym pathetically the capabilities and limitations of those dis ciples of His? "Splendid isolation, may be all very well a~ a political slogan; it should be far from the mind of superior. The crown of thorns round the brow is probab!: inevitable; but no prickly thickets round the heart shouR render access difficult and even impossible. Man is, cording to Shakespeare, "dressed in a little brief autho~l ity," and should not play "such fantastic :tricks before high heaven As make the angels weep:" The donkey that bore our Lord into Jerusalem had his moment of triumph, felt the garments under his feet, saw the palm branches being waved as he passed, heard the hosannas and shouts of joy; but he would have been an ass indeed to assume that it was for him that the people were rejoicing. The manner in which we obey provides a wide field for examination. "Prompt, blind, and cheerful" is cer-tainly a high enough ideal. We need to ~be on our guard against any "delaying tactics" ("He may think better of it in a day or so") and against any disinclination to carry out what our own intelligence does not dommend. And if the Lord loves a cheerful giver, how much more is He pleased by. a hearty, willing obedience? Yet~how much disobedi-ence may be dignified by the name of manly self-assertion; and how often may pusillanimity usurp, the title of obedi-ence? We must obey as Christ obeyed. Had He not been obedient "unto death, even the death of the cross," we should not have been redeemed at all. He saw the will of His Father in everything that" befell Him, and "the things that are pleasing to Him.I' do always." Authority, even when vested in unworthy holders of office, whether malicious like Caiphas or weak like Pilate, always re-ceived from Him its due recognition, without servility or consideration of human motives. He knew that even such as these "would have no authority, unless it were given from above"; and since from above it.had been given, He submitted to itowith obedience and dignity. Yet even He, Son of God as He was, had to "learn obedience by the things He suffered." ¯ Our third vow, chastity, is perl~aps, best considered under its~ aspect of love, since serious failure here will not require examination, being self-evident. It is possible to allow our very pursuit of purity to blind us to its wider implications. If we. do not find in ourselves anything con-trary to our vow, we should thank God: "I could not other-wise be continent, except God gave. it." Yet are we in-tolerant and censorious of the peccadilloes of others? The "heart of iron for chastity" must not preclude the "heart of flesh for charity"; for "chastity-without charity shall be chained in hell." A mortal sin again~st charity.will kill the soul no less effectively than a mortal sin against chas-tity. Purity means that we long to love only God and for His sake all others. If self-complacent purity should lead to bitter, wounding remarks and unkind lack of considera-tion, we are completely missing the end of the sacrifice entailed by the vow; we might well ask: "To what purpose was this waste?" Again, it is surely only an incomplete view to confine ÷ ÷, ÷ Ex~mi~tlon o Comci~nce VOLUME 20, 1961 423 ÷ ÷ ÷ our warfare against "the flesh" to sexual temptations alone, Perhaps we may not indeed have offended here; but if faith wanes dim, and love waxes cold, there is the danger of the law of compensation creeping upon us unawares. We may tend to grow self-indulgent in smaller matters: to prolong our sleep unnecessarily, to be fussy over what we have to eat and drink, to be fastidious and finical about what we are given to wear, to show a marked disinclina-tion for work that is boring, disturbs our ease, or does not suit us. Purity should not preoccupy us so much that freedom from its grosser infringements blinds us,to the necessity of mortifying our senses--also "the flesh"--our taste, touch, ease, vanity. Nor should our natural propensity for friendship lead us to exclusiveness or to the loss of the spirit of prayer. Our human affections must not be put down, but put straight; they must not be kept under, but kept under con-trol. Controlled affection can be made to serve Christ's purposes; uncontrolled, our inclinations court disaster. What of Christ? His love was not jealous, mean, or petty; but magnanimous, and universal in its sweep. He did not shrink from self-denial in showing His love; He did not fear running the risk of others failing Him, as others did, like Judas,, Pilate, and the unknown "rich young man." All-embracing in its scope (although He too had His "special friends": John, Martha, Mary), His love went out to beggar and well-to-do, Pharisee and publican, virtuous and vicious. He showed no antipathy, no con-tempt towards any one of His creatures; there was nothing forced or spurious about His love, which was the perfect flowering of the all-holy purity of the Man-God. Our examen is, after all, the mirror we hold up to na-ture; a poor weak human nature,.no doubt, but one that all the more on that.account needs the mirror to reflect faithfully all its deficiencies. If we undertake this work more sincerely, more generously, in partnership with Christ, perhaps we shall find what we thought to be stumbling-blocks transformed by Him into ~stepping stones. Our examen will no longer have the dismal charac-ter of a solitary.visit to a desolate cemetery, but the hopeful quality of a pilgrimage with a Friend eager to help us. We may still discover dry bones aplenty on the face of the plain, but if faithfully we do our part, even of them also it may be said "I will give you spirit and you shall live." ~ Father A/dan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS MARTIN A. STILLMOCK; C.SS.R. Two Century Masterpiece "Of all my spiritual works, I should call this' one the best." These are the words spoken by St. Alphdnsus Maria de Ligouri on July 24, 1760, about his book, The True S~ouse ol Jesus Christ. When we consider that of the ope hundred eleven books and pamphlets written by the saint sixty-four ar6 ascetical works, this statement commands attention. The book in question could hardly be given higher praise. To understand why St. Alphonstis made this' remarl~- able utterance, it will' be well to consider the background of this book. As a founder of a religi6us congregation of missionary priests, as a popular and skilled retreat ~aster, and later as a bishop, St. Alpho. nsus was deeply concerned that llis priests and all priests should be learned and holy. To help priests in the field of learning he wrote his famous Mm:al Theology. To help prie,sts in their spiritual life he wrote his well known Selva which treats of the dignity and duties of the priest. All Christians know that there is no salvation for the world except through Jesus Christ. Now the ordinary channel of the world's salvation is the priesthood whic.h Christ instituted. Hence it was that Alphonsus loved so much to preach to priests and seminarians. And hence also it was that he wrote for them. He knew that the sanctification of one priest could mean the saving of thousands of souls that perhaps otherwise would not be saved. Alphonsus know he could put weapons into the hands of priests: weapons of theological learning, sermon material, ~naterial for retreats, missions, novenas. He could give them food for spiritual thought by combing spiritual writers, especially the fathers of the Church, and presenting their writings and ideas in a popular and interesting way. He could point out to priests the road to sanctity and the ways and means to attain holiness. All these weapons as well as many more St. Alphonsus, following Catholic tra-dition, put into the hands of pastors and missionaries for converting the world to Jesus Christ. But to insure success, he thought it necessary to supplement these weapons by Martin A. Stillmock, C.Ss:R., is engaged in parish work at St. A1- phonsus Church, 1118 North Grand Boule-vard, St. Louis 6, Mis-souri. ~OLUME 20, 1961 425 ÷ M. A. Stillmock, C.$s.R. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the prayers of all those who are consecrated to God by religious profession: In every day and age it has been difficult for people to understand the n~cessity and value of the contem-plative life. To mauy it seems a pious waste of time. The problem is that many of these people understand little or nothing of the communion of saints, even though they may believe in it as they profess in the Apostles' Creed. Consequently, they do not understand or even -begin to realize the value of intercessory prayer or suppli-cation. Why God created such an institution as the cloister and why He calls religious to lead lives of penance and pr.ayer is beyond them. But the saints understand the value of these" things; and Alphonsus, from long experience in working for the most. abandoned souls, realized fully how much priests and missionaries need the help of prayers for success in their priestly and missionary work. Whenever Alphonsus had a difficult mission before him, or when he knew strong resistance would be forthcoming from the great enemy of souls, he recommended himself to the prayers of ~:eligious who spend their lives in the presence of God. Alphonsus himself had founded an order of contem-pla'tive nuns, the Redemptoristines. For him they were the second branch of his apostolic congregation, the Redemptorists, While the missionaries were on the front battling [or souls whd were often deep in the clutches of the devil, these nuns raised their minds to "heave/i, like Moses on the mountain, and by 'their prayers and pen-ances obtained the victory. . It was thoughts such as these which impelled A1- phonsus to write The True'Spouse of Jesus Christ. In the volume he says to the religious souls for whom he is writing: You should be :useful to all, especially by yqur prayers. A!l the spouses of our Lord should be zealous for His honor. He Himself said to St. Teresa: "Now that you are My spouse, you must work with zeal for My glory." Indeed, if the souls so ~logely united to Jesus do not take His interests to heart, who will do so? Our Lord has promised to hear anyone who prays to Him. In your prayers, then, at your communions, during the visit to the Blessed Sacrament, recommend to God all poor sinners, infidels, heretics~ and those Who live without God. And Alphonsus goes.on to say: Our Lord Himself asks this of His. special servants. He said to a venerable nun one day: "Help me by your prayers to save souls"; and to St. Mary Magdalene of Pazzi: "See, My daughter, how Christians are in the hands of the evil onel If My elect did not deliver them by their prayers, they would become the prey of that monster." This prompted the counsel which she gave to her religious: "My dear sisters, God has withdrawn, us from the world to save our own' souls, of course, but also that we may satisfy His mercy by interceding for sinners. We shall have to account for the loss of many souls if we neglect to recommend them to God." For this reason she never let an hour of the day go by without prayir[g /0r sinners. Another servant of our Lord did penance for forty years and applied it all to the salvation of souls in need of divine grace. Oh, how many sinners there are who owe their conversion not so much to the sermon of the preacher as to the prayers of some holy re-ligiousl It was revealed to a celebrated orator that the conversions apparently worked by him were not attributable to his elo-quence but to the prayers of the lay brother who sat at th~ foot of the pulpit. Pray then for sinners, and pray also for priests that they may work with true zeal for the salvation of souls. But if religious are to be powerful intercessors with our Lord, it can be only on condition that they be His true spouses. Therefore, just as he did for priests, A1- phonsus treats at length of the duties of religious women. While reading this book, weshould keep in mind that in the eighteenth century many abuses had crept into the cloister. The spirit-of the times breathed laxity, tepidity, and worldliness. A1phonsus was not one to use half meas-ures, and in many instances his language is strong. But his one big purpose is to preach holiness. He does this by pointing out what virtues should be specially practiced, and he prescribes, the means for wiping qut abuses. It may be thought that St. Alphonsus wrote Thk True Spouse solely for cloistered or contemplative nuns. He certainly had° thegn in :mind, but not exclusively. In his preface the saint himself tells us: This work, as appe.ars from the title, is intended particularly for nuns. However, only a small part of it is directed exclusively to them; the remainder, but especially what regards the ob-servance of the vows of religion, regular discipline, and the per-fection of the religious state, is equally suitedto religious of all congregations; and what regards the Christian virtues will be found highly useful even for seculars. What is to be found in The True Spouse? Practically every facet of the spiritual life is treated, The saint starts off his work by treating of the merits of virgins who have consecrated themselves to God. He goes on to state the advantages of the religious state and how religious should belong wholly to God. He speaks of the desire religious should have for perfection and then warns that imper-fect religious are exposed tb danger. The necessity of combating self love is treated. After treating of interior mortifications, the saint goes on to speak of exterior mortification of the appetite, of the senses of hearing and touch, and of the eyes. The book also contains a long treatise on poverty, its perfection, its degrees and practice, the detachment it involves from relatives and other persons. Closely allied to poverty is humility; the saint here discusses its ad-wmtages, the nature of humility of the intellect, heart, and will, and patience in bearifig contempt. ÷ ÷ ÷ Two Century Masterpiece VOLUME 20, 1961 4. M. d. Stillmo¢l¢, C.Ss.R. There is a beautiful chapter on fraternal charity, fol-lowed by one on patience, a virtue that leads to resig-nation to the will of God. Then follows a treatment of mental prayer, its necessity as well as its practice. From there the saint points out the importance and necessity of silence, solitude, and the presence of God. The topic of spiritual reading forms a chapter in itself. The True Spouse contains a long treatment on the frequentation of the sacraments of confession and com-munion. Under confession the saint has a consoling and practical treatise on scruples: what they are, how they are hurtful, their remedy and a practical application. Prayer and purity of intention form two more chapters. A work of this type would not be complete for St~ Alphonsus unless he devoted some space, to the Holy Mother of God. First, Alphonsus contends that no true servant of Mary can be lost; then he goes on to show who are to be considered true servants of Mary. Following the chapter on devotion to Mary is one on the love of Christ, the obligation of a religious to iove Him, and the means of acquiring this love. The saint concludes his work with particular admoni-tions for superiors, novice mistresses, and so on. In the last chapter he gives a rule of life for the religious who desires to become a saint. This includes the treatment of such things as the Divine Office, hearing of Mass, exami-nation of conscience, necessity of banishing melancholy, recreation. The True Spouse even has an appendix con-taining such considerations as a summary of the virtues which the religious who wishes to become a saint should practice, spiritual maxims for religious, and aspirations of love for Christ. Very few books written almost exclusively for religious women handle such a wide and practical range of treat-ment. As one German translator of The True Spouse observes: This book, written as it is with great fo~'ce and piety, contains the.q.uintessence of ascetic theology and is a practical ex-posmon of the virtues of the religious life. I have no hesitation in saying that the reader will find in it all that has been written by ancient and modern writers on the subject of spirituality. It sums up a multitude of books and gives all that the holy author has developed at greater length in other writings on the same matters. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 428 MARCEL MARCOTTE; S.J. Health and Holiness Father, it seems that for the majority of priests, a person suffering from neurosis is condemmed to stand in one spot marking time with no chance of advancing in the spiritual life. I take it that you are not of that opinion, and 1 am so glad. Your opinion confirms my own per-sonal experience and that ol others who have confided in me. When a person is unbalanced in some way, one at once thinks that there has been some frustration in the past of his emotional needs. In most cases this is true. But do not certain neuroses grow worse because of a conflict be-tween the profound need of God which we experience on the one hand and, on the other, the behavior we are led to persist in, sometimes, under the influence o[ the guidance we receive? It seems to me that the more aspir-ing and straightforward a soul is, the more woeful can be certain mistakes in spiritual direction. I think that there is a tendency among religious and priests to make too little of the needs of the soul. Spiritual writers teach clearly that in order to reach God, the soul must proceed by a series of purifications suited to its spiritual progress. But how many spiritual advisors grasp that when the time comes? They seem to think that this was written more for initiates in the spiritual life. But I think that such ideas could be carried over with great profit into many ordinary .lives. Don't you agree? IfI we sidestep debating certain merely incidental ele-ments in this letter so as to throw into relief its main point, the question it asks can be put thus: Does our sanctification depend on our psychological balance as well as, in some degree, on our bodily health and the sound condition of our nerves? Pascal, who was all his life a _very sick and anxiety-haunted man, declared that "ill, ness impairs the judgement and the senses . " "If great 1:This article is translated with permission from Relations, March, . 1961, pp. 64-66. The translation is by George Courtright. 4. 4. 4. Marcel Marcotte, S.J., teaches at the ColI~ge Sainte Marie, 1180 rue Bleury, Montreal 2, Canada. VOLUME 20, 1961 Mar~e! Mav¢otte, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 430 illness," he says plainly, "visibly alters them, I have no doubt at all that minor illnesses have a proportionate fect." This opinion, dictated by the personal experience of a man of genius who was, also, in his own way, a kind of saint, ought doubtless to be kept in mind. How-ever, recent discoverie~ in psychology together with the teaching of experience and certain data of theology lead us to qualify it. Does our relationship with God really depend upon our physical and psychological formation, which, while in us, is, for all that, not us? Are we to be marked in ad-vance for sanctity or for spiritual mediocrity by reason of our temperament, i the condition of our endocrine glands, certain accidents of education, or traumas ex-perienced in the course of life which definitively open or close to us the approaches"to Christian perfect~ion? "The will of God," says St.Paul, "is ,that' you become saints." But is this divine will concerned only with people who have perfectly healthy and well-balanced bodies and minds? Does sanctity reser~b!e some sort of royal feast to which only a small number of chosen guests--great lords and noble ladies with impressive names--are to be in-vited, while the great mass of the faithful must be satis-fied with the crumbs of the banquet? This would be .a surprising and rather scandalous thing. God, in His giving, remains free, but when once He has granted, in baptism, the first, essential gift ("if you knew the gift of Godl" Jesus said to the Samaritan woman), then that spring of living water, which has just penetrated by grac~ into the Christian soul, must inexhaustibly "gush from his breast into eternal life." For the gift of God is nothing else but God Himself, from whom life pours out, diffuses itself, and irresistibly increases in the Christian so as to make him achieve his full height, his complete stature in Christ. S~ill, we must yield to the evidence: Not all Christians are saints--far from it--for indeed if God's gift is to produce its fruit of sanctity in the soul, the Christian must cooperate freely with the ~ace that is offered him. But the usual effects of original sin make this free co-operation very difficult for the normal Christian. Besides this, in many instances, the exercise of freedom is en-cumbered by" special difficulties which render infinitely more unpredictable the conformity of our acts in life to moral standards and the higher dem~inds of sanctity. "It is hard to practice Christian virtue," Alexis Carrel says, "when one suffers from a glandular deficiency." Edu-cators, judges,-moralists, and spiritual directors realize today how important a role the body plays in the origin and development of certain 'kinds of moral, social, and spiritual weaknesses. Chrtesian dualism no longer has currency; we have learned to, recognize ;and admit the. reciprocal influence of the body and the soul~ on .the physical and mental health of human beings. Psycho-somatic medicine, for its 'part, is ready to take into ac-count complications on the physical and bodily level arising from the psychic; why should not .Catholic moral-ity and spiritual teaching,, in turn, take into account the, repercussion of sick organs and nerves upon the interior, psychic life? "Man," says Pascal again, '~is neither angel nor beast, and ill luck would have it that he who would play the angel plays the beast."-" Furthermore, physical health: is not alohe concerned here. Depth psychology has shown (doubtless to the. point;, of sa.t.iety) that the evolution of a religious and moral personality, is linked to the dynhmic'drives of ifiapulses and tendencies of instinct, and emotion which we carry along with us from earliest infancy to adult life. Ac-cording as the liquidation of ce.rtain psychi~ conflicts has been more or less successful, habit~ and moral or spirit-ual attitudes assume very different characters. In certain instances, repression and sublimation will facilitate ,the practice of virtue and thai.pursuit'of sanctity; in others, they will make virtue and holiness, at least in appearance, very difficult or even altogether impossible. Therefore, in the quest for God, the-Christian must not only adapt himself to his nature as he finds it, but, in ad-dition, undergo to a degree very difficult to estimate the inbuilt necessities springing from the past. Why seek to deny it? There are ill-favored creatures who, so far from being naturally equipped to live a truly spiritual life, are not even fit to live a life in accordance with common morality. They will never be so thoroughly good as they might otherwise be simply for lack of discipline and con-tr61 aiid will drag along through weakness after weakness t6'~the end of their lives. Their sense of judgement is warped, their wills debilitated: how can they aspire to personal holiness? Yet, is sanctification to be made de-pendent on the chance that on~ has or has not a healthy hormone balance, or that one is blest in one's psycho-logical makeup or has been guccessfully educated? Some-times, it takes so little (a thyroid'deficiency, the awkward or rough meddling of a teacher) to change the course of one's life. "If Cleopatra's nose had been shorter . " Is the longing of a Christian for sanctity to be similarly sub-ject to accident, to that "grain of sand in the ureter" which, according to Pascal, upset the, Whole map of Europe? To avoid so scandalous a notion, we must first take care to have a right idea of the meaning of sanctification. We must not'confuse it with the attainment of purely human perfection or even~ with the moral perfection Health and Holiness VOLUME 201 1961 43! ÷ ÷ ÷ Marcel Marcotte, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 432 which makes saints so attractive. In essence, sanctification is the act by which God divinizes man. This action occurs in the spiritual order, an order the harmonies of which are not necessarily echoed in the outward behavior and visible appearance of the man God has sanctified. In re-lation to this action, one's psychological makeup is of no importance. Whether a man be endowed with a nature favorable to the acquiring of virtue or is a neurotic ob-sessed by the flesh or by guilt or scruples, it is enough for him to say "Yes" to God, to cling to Him in his soul of souls, beyond all temptation, all childish fear, in order to be swathed in divine grace and himself made divine. On this point, Saint Francis de Sales says: It is beyond question true that our souls ordinarily take on something of the traits and tone of our bodily lower nature . A body weakened and distracted by much pain cannot but in-hibit the vigor and spontaneity of the soul in its performances. But nothing of this is in anyway prejudicial to the spiritual actions of the soul. As pleasing to God as such actions can be when done among all tlie pleasures of the world, they are even more so when done with greater trouble and pain . We must not be unjust to ourselves and demand more of our-selves than we can do. When our bodies and our health give us trouble, we must, at such a time, expect of the soul only acts of submission and resignation and that holy union of ou~' wills with the good pleasure of God, which is formed in the highest reaches of the soul. As for our outward actions, we must direct and perform them as best we can and be conr tent therewith, though our hearts mislike it and the going be slow and heavy. Nevertheless, the fac( remains that sanctity, in the usual sense of the word, requires certain conditions, which are not given to everyone. For example, an idiot finds himself, as such, incapable of that renunciation of sin and of that assent to grace which are essential ,in the spiritual life. Just as a certain healthiness of the nervous system is needed before the moral consciousness can un-fold, So, too, in the order of sanctity, a certain psychologi-cal healthiness is necessary before that love, thanks to which one renounces sin in order to give oneself utterly to God, can unfold. In what does this healthiness consist, without which sanctity becomes impossible~not that sanctity which exists in the hidden mystery, of the sou! but the sanctity we find in the faces, in the words and the actions of those whom we call saints? There are certain characteristics, certain somatic and psychological qualifications which are necessary so that the fruit Of divine grace .may grow and show itself in the form of Christian virtues: for ex-ample, mildness, temperance, purity, brotherly love. If there are serious deficiencies in one's makeup, the soul will struggle vainly to remain faithful; all its efforts, at least in appearance, will remain useless. True, in the eyes of God, "who searches the reins and the heart," all these struggles, endlessly abandoned and endlessly lost, will have contributed to the sanctification of the soul. But for the bystander, and often for the soul itself, hypnotized by its own weakness, this mystei~ious but real sanctifica-tion will never be verified. It will not even be verifiable. It may even happen that priests and experienced spiritual directors will fail to recognize the value and the merit of these hard-fought spiritual battles which always end in a checkmate. But such a lack of understanding--wit-ness the lives of the saints---often forms a part of the means God uses for the spiritual progress of souls. It is a kind of night added to that night in which souls struggle only to make the darkness darker and faith more meri-torious. Yet, the darker the night, the nearer, the more lovely the stars. "Close your eyes, and you will seel ." God has a way all His own of dealing with the emptiness surrounding the soul. It is at the moment when He ap-pears to be forevermore far away that He is often closest. "If you had already found Me," God says to Pascal, "you would not look for Me." The important thing, then, is the search for God, the effort, as the accepted phrase is, toward sanctity while trying evermore in one's life to accept the divine will, even when that will rules that we make our way toward God stumblingly, foundering in the earth like plough-oxen, we who were made to fly high in the heavens like eagles. There are two kinds of saints, says Father Beirnaert. There are the saints with ill-favored and difficult personalities, that mass of people ridden with anxiety, aggressiveness, and love of the body, all those who bear the intolerable weight of having been born as they were, those whose blighted hearts will al-ways be nothing but a knot of snakes, unlucky because they were born with repulsive faces, or because they have never been able to identify themselves with a father. They are those who, unlike St. Francis, will never in their lives charm a bird or pet a wolf of Gubbio; those who sin and will sin again; who will grieve till the day they die, not because they lost their temper a little but because they keep on committing the same filthy, unmentionable action. They are that vast crowd whose sanctity will never shine out in this world through their personalities, who will rise up only on the last day to glitter, finally, in eternity. They are saints without the honor of the name. At their side are the saints blest with attractive personalities, the pure, strong, sweet saints, the model saints, the canonized saints and the saints fit to be canonized, saints with hearts as free and wide as the seasho~'e; saints whose being, like a per-fectly tuned harp, forever sings out the glory of God; wonderful saints, who encourage the advances of grace and in whom we touch a grace-transfigured nature--the recognized, the cele-brated, the great saints, who trail a shining splendor through history. Both kinds of saints are brothers. Those saints whose per- 4- 4- 4- l;ealth and Holiness VOLUME 20, 1961 sonalities are haunted by m'onsters and those in whom angels dwell have the same basic experience, and they speak Of God and of themselves in the same words. They are of the same bourn, the same world; a world where the only grief is to find oneseff so unworthy of God, and the only happinesg is to be loved by Him and to try to give Him love for love. For us, here below, they are different. Before God, they are alike. And we shall see this in the day of the Lord Jesus (Etudes, t. 266, pp. 63-64). Once more, pure holiness can and sometimes must adapt itself to certain bodily and psychological states which will give their stamp to the outward aspect and ac, tions of a Christian, without, for all that, compromising his inner adherence to the divine will and, therefore, without hurting the life of charity in him. "In the evening of'life," says St. John of the Cross, "we shall be judged~on our love." For each and all of us, it is simply a question of love and, therefore, of choosing, according to the meas-ure of freedom that has been given us, between good and bad, between the perfect and the imperfect. In propor-tion to this, God Himself comes to meet us so as to share His life more intimately with us, before finally, bringing us into His beatitude. ÷ ÷ .÷ Marcel Marcotte, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 434 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M., ' ' The ,Superior's Predept and God S Will One of the first pro~ositions a.tyro meets in a religious novitiate ,is one to the~effect that a '~superior's directive is "an expression of God's wilV' for .him': If'a religious wishes to know what God' desires of him,~ he need only listen to;accept, and execute the~precepts of his superior. Unfortunately, this early lesson'-'is subject to ambiguity and confusion. And more unfortunately, it can happen that the novice may embrace for life an incorrect interpre-tation of the~,ambiguity or he may simply, practice reli-gious obedience in a pekdffring cloud ofmisunderstand-ing. Does a superior "manifest,God's will" to a subject? If. he does, what does the expression mean? If he does not, ought we to modify our instruction°on this facet of obe-dience? Before attempting an immediate answer to" these, ques-tions, I should like to ask the reader to consider'a philo-sophical and theological antecedent; namely, the problem of how a man can conform his will to the divine will. A conference or retreat master ,can easily advise his listeners to conform their wills to the will of God, but to what ex-tent this conformity is possible and how itls to be achieved is not at all so simple as might appear on the surface. And-, yet a mature and accurate understanding of religious obe-dience would seem to require that we delve beneath the surface and discover~ what-precisely~ we are doing when we obey. For the attainment of this understanding we can follow no better guide than St. Thomas Aquinas. To tinderstand the Angelic Doctbr's doctrine on the precise °fiaanner in which a man is bound to conform his will to the divine will, we must, as Thomas does, dis-tinguish betweeh what may be called a material and a formal conformity.1 In an act of willifig we notice that there are two elements involved: the thing willed and the 1 Summa theologiae, 1-2, q. 19, a. 10~, c. ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M., is spiritual director at Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 South Carrollton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisiana. VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay,. S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 436 motive for willing it. Willing an act of kindness, for ex-ample, implies first of all, the sundry components of the benign deed, and, secondly, the motive or reason for willing that deed. The activity willed (here, the kind deed) is called the material element, while the motive or the reason~why (for example, love for God) is the formal element. It can happen that even when they will opposite real-ities two created wills can be good provided their- motives are good. St. Thomas uses the example of ttie execution of a thief. The judge wills his death, whereas the thief's wife does not will it. The wills are opposed as regards the material element, the fact of the executiori; but they can both be good provided the judge wills the death for a good reason (thecommon welfare) and the wife opposes that death for some evil consequent on it (for example, harm to her family). Because the judge has care for a more universal good, the community, and the wife for a less universal one, her family, both can will opposites and yet be good as long as their reasons are worthy. The° reader will understand that we .are not suggesting that any action at all may become morally good merely by the presence of a good motive. A man may not stem five dollars in order to buy his wife an anniversary gift. We are simply stating that two wills can at times be opposed regarding one action and yet both be willing rightly. We are now in a position to apply this principle to our problem of conformity to God's will. As St. Thomas points out, God as the Maker and Governor of the whole universe knows and wills .whatever He wills under the aspect of the universal good, which is His very goodness. A created will, on the other hand, knows some particular good and sometimes wills it for some reason that is good on a particular scale but not good from the point of view of, the more universal. For example, the avoidance of a spanking is a good from the particular or limited aspect of a child's physical well being, but itsoadministration may be better from the universal and wider aspect of his whole welfare and that of the family. In orde~ for a man to Will well some particular good he must refer it somehow, to the universal good; that is, to God. This referral, this motivation to the last end is the formal element in willing and must be present in a volitional act in order for that act to be rightly ordered. A man, therefore, conforms0his will to the divine will when he refers all that he does to God, since God Himself refers all to His own glory. This is a formal conformity and must always be present in a human act. A man, how-ever, need not and cannot always materially conform his will to the divine will as regards particular acts. It is sufficient that those particular acts be good in themselves and be referred to God, for in so acting man is operating as God wants him to operate~ even though God may not actually will this or that particular act. Hence, a material conformity to the divine will is ,not always required or even possible. Why do we say that a material Conformity to God's will is not always required or even possible? The reason is simple~ We often do not know what God wills as re-gards particular acts. We surely know that He wills us to do all for His sake, but that is a formal conformity, the ordering of all to Him. On.the other hand,.we~frequently do not know whether He .prefers.us to do on~ thing rather than another. I know He wants me'to tell-the truth when I am rightly questioned, but I do not know with certitude whether in ten minutes I should still be writing or visit-ing the BlesSed Sacrament. I know He wants me to obey canon law and my religious rule/but I may not know whe!her He really desires that I make~ tfii.s or that ex-cepaon to them. What ought I to do in these cases? I shbuld use my reason, follow the principles~of.sound ~asceticai theolggy, and exercise the virtue of supernatural prudence. God undoubtedly wiils that I do these latter, but the fact re-mains that once I have made my decision there may or may~ not be a material confOrmity between my will and His. Such,' however, is quite a Satisfactory situation pro-vided that what I do is good and is ordered to Him. In other words, material .conformity may' be lacking, but formal conformity may not. , ~pp!ication to Religious Obediencei: Can we, then, say that a religious Superior manifests tile will of God when he gives' a directive to his subjects? Surely, if the superior merely reiterates a precept of the natural or divine laws, he is indicating the divine will, but he is hardly manifesting it. ,That will is usually al-ready manifested to the subject, 'remotely by human tea, son or supernatural revelation, and proximately by in-struction he has received. As regards other matters (and they are commonly practical on~s) the superior cannot be said tO manifest the divine intention for the obvious rea-son that he does not know what the divine intention' is. If Father Superior tells Father Jones to suspend convert instruction classes during the summer, he is not neces, sarily manifesting God's will to Father Jones. Short of a private revelation Father Superior cannot know with certitude whether God really desires that suspension or not. All he can °do is.Use his experience, reason, and supernatural prudence in coming to a,decision and then hope he is doing what God wants. When Mother Pro-vincial assigns Sister Alice to teaching rather than to ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior's Precept VOLUME 20, 1961 437 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS nursing, Mother is not necessarily declaring the divine mind, because God may actually know that Sister Alice is better fitted to be a'nurse. I would say, then, that, simply speakin.g, a religious superior does not manifest God's will when he issues a command. In an improper sense, however, the superior may be said to manifest God's willAn his precept insofar as God wishes the subject to carry~ out what His representative has commanded. While it is true-that the fulfillment of this command is willed by God, yet the command itself does not properly manifest'anything but the superior's intention. I think it would be re.ore correct to say that by his precept a superior gives his subject the opportunity to do God's will, that is, to obey. It would seem wise, therefore, not to use this.expr~ession in an improper sense because it is misleading and confusi.ng. There-is no mani-festation of what we may call the content of God's will. By his obedience, then,, a religious conforms his will formally to the divine will when he orders his obedience to the divine glory through the virtue of charity. There is, secondly, a material conformity insofar as God wills this precept to, be carried out. There may or may not be, thirdly, a material conformity as regards the content of the precept. The reader will notice that our whole position on the superior's inability to manifest with certitude the con-tent of the ~livine will rests on his ignorance of that will. Hgw can~we establish that ignorance? Really, it needs no establishing because it is obvious on a moment's" reflec-tion. St. Thomas himself saw no difficulty about the matter. "Although we cai~not know a proper end, we can know the ultimate end from whom issues all the goodness found in proximate ends, so t.hat we may direct all we do to God, who made all things for Himself."z "The just on earth, whose will clings to the divine goodness, and yet do not so perfectly contemplate it (as the blessed do) that they clearly see the ordering ofoevery actiop to it, are conformed to the divine will as regards thos_e things whose character th~ey perceive . ,,s The Saint's last remark is most clear: "In particulars we do not know what God wills, and a~s regards.these we are not bound to conform our will to the divine will.''4 ~ St. Thomas readily admits our ignorance of the divine will in many details of human life, the proximate ends as he calls them. We need. only apply his thought to reli-gious obedience and _we have the basis on which our above explanation rests. But can a superior because of his sharing in the divine 1 Sententiae, d. 48, q. l, a. 3, ad 6; see also article 4. De veritate, q. 23, a. 8, c. Summa thkologiae, 1-2, q. 19, a. 10, ad I. ruling authority somehow claim to set forth what we have called the content of the divine will? I think not. No man, be he superior, equal, or inferior, can rightly claim to manifest the mind of God unless God in some way re-veals His mind and ratifies, the claim. God's mind is God and~He is unsearchable. Hence, if a mere man may be said to make known God's mind or His will, that man must have some divine-assurance that such is the case. Does the religious superior have this assurance when he directs his subordinates in the observance of their vows and constitutions? The teaching Church, the Roman~ Pontiff and the bishops in union with him, certainly enjoy this assurance when they intend tobind in their authentic teaching (See Mt 16: 16"19; 18: 18; Lk 10: 16; Jn 20:21).~But does a re-ligious superior as such share in these divine commissions in any way that would permit him to claim that he, too, reflects the .divine will in 'his decisions? We ~may note, first of all, that on the one hand a religious superior, qua : talis, does not possess any special teaching authority in : the Church. On the other, Plus XII made it clear that the i ruling power of ~'eligious superiors is,;a participation in the divinely received ruling power of the Supreme Pontiff ~ himself. Speaking to.the superiors general of orders and .~ to other religious superiors, the Holy Father remarked -" thgt "you have been appointed tO a certain participation " in Our apostolic office," and then enlarged his thought: "Thus in this,.part of Our office, most beloved sons, delegating to you some of Our supreme jurisdiction, either directly by the code of canon law or by your insti-tutes and their rules approved by Us, and setting the foundations of your power which is called 'dominative,' We have assumed you as sharers in Our supreme office. Hence, it is that We are .very much concerned that you exercise your authority according to Our mind and that of the Church.'5 Does this participation in the apostolic governing power give a religious superior some capability to manifest God's will? To answer this last question we must distinguish be tween a mere ruling power and a teaching pbwer. Even the Church herself~, does not claim infallibility in as, pects of her universal laws unconnected with doctrine, and therefore, she does not claim in them to bg represent-ing what we have been terming the content of the divine mind. In setting twenty-four years as the minimum age for the reception of the priesthood even the Holy See would not'claim that it knows the content of the divine mind on that question. While God may conceivably prefer some other age limitation, yet it is His will that 6 Translated from L'osservatore romano, February 12, 1958, p. I. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior'$ Precepg VOLUME 20, 1961 439 ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 440 bishops obey the Church's actual determination of twenty-four years. If the hierarchy itself, divinely endowed with a right to govern men to eternal life, cannot at times be sure that its laws express exactly the divine preference, it can come as a surprise to no one that we deny any such certainly to a religious superior who merely participates in the Church's ruling authority on a delegated basis. When a provincial superior of religious men appoints a priest to the mission band or when a local superior of religious women directs a sister to wax the floors on Saturday morning, it is not objectively sure that the priest is best suited for mission work or that the sister ought not rather be doing background reading in her teaching field. Yet it remains true that both the priest and the sister may be sure that God wills them to give missions and wax the floors respectively. While the two superiors may not6 have manifested the content'of the divine will, both of them have issued directives that God, as a matter of fact, wants implemented by two religious who have received two specific precepts. Even though the religious superior does rule through a participation in a divinely-given governing authority, he has nonetheless received no divine assurance that his commands are always going to conform to the objective truth of things. The subject, then, sees God in his supe-rior not in the sense that the superior's word must be taken as God's own word, but only in the sense that the superior's command is .given by one who has God's authority to give it. The distinction is important. On the one hand it obviates the untenable conclusion that a re-ligious superior is immune from error in his decisions as superior, and on the other it preserves the necessary postulate that a superior's precept is given on no mere human basis. In view of what we have said one could hardly miss the conclusion that a religious superior ought to weigh carefully the directives he gives. Even though it would be unreasonable to expect him to be objectively right in each of his decisions, yet he should make every effort consonant with the gravity of the matter.to be objectively right. Because he rules with a divinely authorized delega-tion, he should take care that his directives be as closely in accord with the divine intentions as possible. Reli-gious government by whim, directives issued by worldly prudence, commands based on favoritism, prejudice, or misinformation are wholly unbecoming in men and women who rule in such wise that their precepts some-e Our use of the word "may" indicates naturally enough that the two superiors may, as a matter of fact, be indicating the content of the divine will. "May not" suggests also "may." how flow from a divine authorizati+n. Traits of the good superior, then, most assuredly include supernatural pru-dence, a personal selflessness, and a willingness to take and follow counsel. We must note correlatively~that what we have said in this article does not absolve a subject from a perfect obedience to his superior. The fact that God may not "agree" that the decision contained in a particular com-mand is the wisest of all choices does not mean that the subject does well in refusing an obedience of execution, will, and intellect (the last, insofar as it is possible). In other words, our discussion is meant to clarify, not to damage the perfection of our obedience. ÷ ÷ ÷ The Superior's Precept VOLUME 20, 1961 44! R. F. SMITH, S.J. Survey of Roman Documents ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, S.], REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS In this article those documents will be summarized wliich appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis during June and July, 1961. All page references in the article will be to the 1961 Acta (v. 53). A New Encyclical On May 15, 1961 (pp. 401-64), Pope John XXIII is-sued a new encyclical, Mater et Magistra (Mother and Teacher), to commemorate the seventieth anniversary of Pope Leo XIII's encyclical on social matters, Rerum Novarum. In the introduction to his encyclical, the Pope observed that just as Christ, though primarily interested in the spiritual welfare of men, was also concerned with their material welfare, so also the Church takes care of the spiritual good of men without neglecting their ma-terial, economic, and cultural needs. Passing to the first of the four parts into which the encyclical is divided, His Holiness sketched the evils of the economic and social situation of the nineteenth cen-tury, evils which occasioned Rerum Novarum. The Holy Father then listed the chief principles of Catholic social doctrine as laid down by Leo XIII and as afterwards en-larged and amplified by Pius XI and Pius XII. In the second part of Mater et Magistra, the Vicar of Christ took up and developed certain points of the teach-ing found in Leo XIII's document. While the economic order/ he pointed out, is the. creation of the personal initiative of private citizens, still the State must see to it that economic development benefits all the citizens. This, however, must be done in accordance with the principle of subsidiarity enunciated by Pius XI in Quadragesimo Anno, a principle which protects the personal initiative of individual persons. In this connection the Pontiff con-sidered the matter of modern economic and social plan-ning which involves public authorities in matters as crucial as the care of health or the controlling of pro-fessional careers: Such planning, he remarked, brings many advantages and satisfies many personal rights;, how-ever, it also makes juridical control of hurfian relations more detailed and creates an atmosphere which makes initiative and responsibility difficult. Hence, such plan-ning should be realized in such a way as to draw from it all its advantages and to remove or restrain its disadvan-tages. ¯ .," Pope John then turned to consider the question of "the remuneration to be given to workers. ~AI1 workers, he af-firmed, should be given a wage that:allows them to live a truly human, life and to face with dignity their family responsibilities. Other factors;~.however; must alsb be considered: the worker's effective contribution to produc-tion, the economic state of the enterprise, ~he require-ments of the common good,both of the country and of the entire world~ " The economic'wealth of a people,., the Pontiff went on to say, must not be judged merely.by, its total aggregate wealth, bht also by its efficacious distributidn~throughout the entire populace. One of the most desirable ways of achieving this distribution~ is to permit th~ w6~kers to participate in the ownership of the enterprise. One last necessity for a just economic system was,underscored by the P6pe'when he obseiwe6that~if the structure of an economic system is suEh~that it compromises human dig-nity by systeinatically removing a" sense of-responsibility and of initiative in the 'worker, then .the system is un-just, even though through it riches are accumulated and distributed according to the rules of justice and equity. Hence the continuing importance today of artisan and co-operative enterprises. And in large enterprises, workers should have an active part, the enterprise becoming a real community with relations between employer and employee marked by mutual appreciation, understand-ing, and co-operation and by a mutual,grasp, of,:th~ en-terprise not,merely as a source of income but,,as the ful-fillment of a duty and°the rendering of a service.:~Workers, he.said, should not be reduced to being merely execu'tors of work, entirely passive in regard to decisions that regu-late their activity. Here the Pope stressed the desirability of associations of workers and the need that the influence of workers'should be extended beyond the limits of~their individual productive units. The Holy Father turned next to the matter of. private property, observing that the modern growth of the dis-~- tinction between the ownership of capital and the man: agement of the larger economic entities, the increase of social insurance and security, and the greater confidence in income and rights from, labor,rather'than from capital ÷ ÷ ÷ Roman, Documen~ VOLUME ;'0, ÷ ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 444 do not diminish the natural right of private ownership. This right, he said, is fouflded on the priority of individ-ual human beings as compared with society,,is necessary for free and personal initiative in the economic field, and prevents the stifling of freedom. Not only must the right to private property be recognized; equally neces-sary is the recognition of the natural right of its effective distribution among all social classes; added to this must be the acknowledgement that a social function is intrinsi-call~ linked with the right, of private property, for the goods of the earth have been destined by God for the worthy support of. all human beings. In the third part of the encyclical, Pope John took up a consideration of new socio-economic problems that face the modern world. First among these is the extensive exo-dus of farm populations to urban centers. While many reasons lie behind this exodus, the Pope pointed out that among these reasons is the fact that the farm sector lags behind other sectors, in productivity of labor and in living standards. Hence public authorities should see that essential services (education, roads, utilities, and so forth) in the country are suitably developed. Improved produc-tion methods and selective agriculture should be encour-aged. In the assessment of taxes, it should be remembered that in ,farming returns come slowly and are exposed to greater risks; the same considerations should lead to a special credit policy for farmers. Social security and in-surance systems should not give farmers allowances sub-stantially lower than those granted to industrial and other' sectors; there should be an effective system to protect farm prices. At the same time, rural workers should keep in mind the rights and interests of other types of workers as well as those of the common good. They should con-ceive their work both as a vocation and as a mission, as a call ~from God and as a contribution to human civili-zation, The Holy Father next took up the matter of relations between developed and underdeveloped countries. Hu-man solidarity as. well as the doctrine of the Mystical Body forbids that political communities with abundant resources remain indifferent tO the misery and hunger of underdeveloped-areas. Countries with an excess of consumer goods, especially farm products,, should give emergency, aid to the indigent and needy of other coun-tries. This, however, should be ,accompanied by scientific, technical, and financial help to remove the causes of *underde~elopment. In the execution of this aid, social progress should grow simultaneously With economic progress, the native characteristics of the country should be respected, and political interestedness--another name [or colonialism--should be avoided. In giving such aid, it should always be remembered that technology, economic development, and material well-being are and must re-main secondary to spii~itual values. At this point the Pontiff showed how the entrance of the Church into a country has always restilted in social and econbfiaic better-ment. With regard to the problem of the increase in popula-tion and the sufficiency of mea'ns of sustenance, the Vicar of Chi'ist remarked that in a view of the world as a whole there does°not seem tobe at least for the moment and the near future a great difficulty. In any.case ~here is no need for solutions such as birth control which offend the moral order established by God. Even in individual countries and regions where there is an actual dispib'- portion between population arid means of sustenance, such means can not be used. The true solution is to be found only in economic development and in social prog-ress brought about in a moral atmosphere. "A provident God," he stated, "grants sufficient means to the human race to solve in dignified fashion even .the many and del-icate problems attendant upon the transmission of life." The last of the problems to be considered by the Pope was that of world co-operation. All problems of any importance, he began, present today supranational and often world dimensions. Hence the different political -communities can not solve such problems on their own and by themselves; accordingly there is a need for mutual °understanding; such understanding, however, is pre-vented today because of the mistrust and fear among nations. This mistrust exists because some political leaders do not recognize the existence of a moral order that is based or/ God. And without God, c6ncluded the Pontiff, science and technology are powerless to con-struct a civilization. In the fourth and last part of the encyclical, the Pope insisted that whatever technical and economic progress there may be, there will be neither justice nor peace in the world until men return to a sense of their dignity as creatures and sons-of God. This is why the Church is a herald of a way of life that is ever modern. From .her doctrine of the sacred dignity of the individual, she has drawn a social teaching that takes into consideration the realities of human nature, the various dimensions of the temporal order, and the characteristics of contem-porary society. This social teaching, he said, is an integral part of the Christian conception of li~[e and should be known, spread, and put into observance by all Catholics. The executibn of this doctrine will be the work especially of the laity whom, in the concluding sections of the en-cyclical, the Pontiff urges to remain close to. the doctrine of Christ and His Church. ÷ 4- 4- Roman Documents VOLUME 20, 1961 445 R. F. Smith~ S,]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU, S 446 Miscellaneous° Documents O~a July 22, 1960 (pp. 3~1-43)~ Pope John" issued an apostoli~ constitution dstablishing an exarchate foi: Ukranians of the Byzantine Ri~e living in .France. The see of the exarch will be in Pari~ and~he will be a ~uffr~igan of the archbishop of Paris; the power of the exarch will be exercised cumulatively with that of the loc'al ordinaries of France. On the sameday (pp. 343-44) a similar exarch-ate was estabhshed for those of the Armeman Rxte hwng in France. On April 23, 1961 (pp. 314-18), Hi~ Holines~ spoke to members of various Oriental rites, exl~ressing his admiration for the grandeu~ of Eastern Christianity and the hope that it will find'in the Pope "the sweetness of David and the wisdom of Solomon." On Pentecost, May 21, 1961 (pp. 358-62), His Holiness delivered an al-locution after he had consecrated fourteen mi.ssionary bishops from Africa, America, and Asia. He told his listeners tha t the. riew bishops w.ere the flowers of the new churches of Africa and Asia,~urged the new bishops to study the cultures and histories of their peoples and to work and firay that these be~b'enefited by the redemotion, and re'~all'ed the centenary of the dea'th of Bish~)p de Mazenod, founder of the Oblates 9f Mar~ Immaculate, one o~ the gre.at nanies in the modern renaissance of mission.activity. On November 24, 1960 (pp. 346-'50), the Holy Father'issued an apostolic c6nstitution establishing the hi.erarchy in Vietnam- with a division into three ecclesiastical provinces. On May 27, 1961 (p. 388.),. the Sacred .Cong~egation'bf Rites issued a declaration according to _which a ferial of the fourth class i~ never to be commemorated in a festive or votive Mass,. even though it be a conventual,, one. Accordingly~the f611owing numbers of the new code of rubrics are to ~be modified to read: N.-26. All ferials not mentioned in Nos. 23-25 are ferials of the fourth class; these ar~never commemorated. N.-289_. [At the beginning] On all'ferials of the fourth clasS . there may be said without a commemoration of the ferial. N. 299. [Second part] On bther ferials the Mass of the pre-cedin~ Sunday is said unless the rubrics provide otherwise. On May q l, 1961, the Feast of the Ascension (pp. 289- 95), Pope John XXIII solemnly canonized Blessed Mary Bertilla Boscardin'(1888-1922), virgin, of the School Sisters of St. Dorothy, Daughters of the Sacred Hearts. Her feast day is to be kept on October-22. In the hom.ily after the canonization, the Holy Father pointed out that the new saint is a l~sson to the~great and wise of this world, for she achieved greatness through humility and ,heroism through hidden sacrifice. He also stated that her sanctity was founded on her family where she learned the secret of constancy, on her catechism which taught her true wisdom, and on her religious vocation which allowed her to give herself entirely to God and to her neighbor. On April 26, 1961 (pp. 381-85), the Sacred Congregation of Rites affirmed the heroic virtue ol~ the venerable Servant of God, Leonard Murialdo (1828-1900), professed priest and founder of the Pious Society of St. Joseph. On'the same day (pp. 385-88), the congregation also affirmed the heroic virtue o1: the venerable Servant of God, Gertrude Comensoli (1847-1903), ~oundress of the Sacramentine Sisters. ~ On April 21, 1961 (pp. 308-14), the Holy Father ad-dressed the First National Italian Congress for Ecclesiasti-cal Vocations. He laid great stress on the influence of priests on vocations, the importance of seminaries for the developing of the human and Christian virtues of future priests, and the need to labor with discretion and zeal for the increase of vocations. On M~rch 25, 1,961 (pp. 371-80), the Sacred Congregation of Religious issued an instruction and statutes to govern extern sisters of monasteries of nun

Issue 41.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1982. ; REVIEW FOR REIolGIOI.IS (ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOLIS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO, © 1982 by REVIEW FOR REI,IGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscfip!ion U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $1"/.00 for two years. Olher countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW Eou RELIC.IOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Dululh, 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 Sept./Oct., 1982 Volume 41 Number 5 Manuscripts, hooks for review and correspondence wilh thc editor should be sent to REVII.:W FOR R~:I.,(;~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be senl Io Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuil Community; SI. Joseph's University; Cily Avenue at 541h SI.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v~:w ~ou REL~(aOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Letters of Gratitude Robert F. Morneau In this article, Bishop Morneau is attempting an experiment, the inspiration of which he explains in his introduction. If his effort responds to a sufficient desire in the audience, he has other letters to other authors already in mind. Bishop Morneau, Auxiliary Bishop of Green Bay, has an office at Ministry to Priests Program; 1016 N. Broadway; De Pere, WI 54115. How many of us, well-intentioned indeed, have been moved to express gratitude for gifts received but, lacking either sufficient discipline or crowded by pressing demands, have failed to properly recognize our benefactors. I stand self-accused! Though trained in younger years to promptly send thank-you notes, distance from gracious family policies has allowed this excellent habit to diminish ,and finally disappear. This present collection of thank you letters, though long overdue, attempts to make restitution; it seeks to halt my proclivity to take things for granted. Several stimuli have served as prods in this present endeavor. One was Flannery O'Connor's The Habit of Being. l found in her collected letters a style of discourse that might be labeled "heart .talk": simple, direct and highly personal Listening in to her conversations with a variety of persons proved to be for me enriching and inspiring. A second stimulus came from a reflection of Henri Nouwen in his sensitive autobiographical piece The Genesee Diary: Meanwhile, it remains remarkable how little is said and written about letter writing as an important form of ministry. A good letter can change the day for someone in pain. can chase away feelings of resentment, can create a smile and bring jo.t, to the heart. After all, a good part of the New Testament consists of letters, and some of the most profound insights are written down in letters between people who are attracted to each other by a deep personal affection, l~tter writing is a very important art, especially for those who want to bring the good news (p. 70-71). A third and most important stimulus comes from a personal desire, i.e., a longing that others might meet some of the people who have touched my life. 641 642 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Their wisdom and gifts are too valuable to remain on shelves, collecting dust while our spirits remain famished. These jottings of mine are means to an end. They attempt to draw the reader to lovingly pursue the .full text of each author addressed. The passages 1 have included are merely hors d'oeuvres; the main course lies in the books themselves. Our libraries contain a wealth of material that boggles the mind How to be selective in such a rich mine; what gems to carry out and which to leave behind? The choice, like all choices, causes us joy in the books withdrawn, sorrow at what must be foregone because of our limitations. But then there are other seasons for further reading and future generations to ponder other authors. Three letters are contained in this series. The first is written to Julian of Norwich (b. 1342 - d. 1416). In her masterpiece of spiritual literature, Showings, Julian articulates how God revealed himself in her life. Her work is marked by clarity and depth, compassion and keen sensitivit.v, theological precision and accu-racy. The work is a deep personal witness of how the human heart is touched b), divine love. The second letter is addressed to Simone Weil. She lived from 1909 to 1943. She was a brilliant mathematician and philosopher and became deeply involved in social and political issues. Though attracted to Catholicism, she never was received into the Church. Her writings show deep sensitivity and keen intelli-gence. Ralph Waldo Emerson, an American essayist and poet, is the recipient of the third letter. He lived from 1803 to 1882. His essays are filled with poetic insight and challenging convictions. He was a gifted man who articulated well the inner journey. Hopefully, these letters will draw us into a deeper appreciation of three who journeyed before us. Hopefully, too, we will be challenged to read the primary sources. Julian Norwich, England Dear Julian, I write in gratitude for your spiritual journal which has touched the heart of the human condition in many ~vays. For those who are skeptical of private revelations, and I am one of them, your writings indicate that such workings of God are authentic when received and expressed in grace. I would like to share now some of the themes and reflections that touch my spirit. Your God! Courteous, accessible and familiar! At the heart of such a theology is your intense awareness of a God whose love is personal, a God who waits and longs for us, his people. I noted that you used the adjective "courteous" of God well over fifty .times, driving home the point of his graciousness and intense affectivity. How attractive this is: to be drawn by love to God rather than to be exposed to harsh attributes of anger and wrath. And what a struggle you had to Letters of Gratitude / 645 find the compatibility between wrath in God and his rich courtesy. Yet your sense of sin and the necessity of mercy permeate all your writings. Sin is offensive to God indeed; yet his love comes to our sinfulness in mercy and healing. The God you experienced is indeed the God of Scripture. You are now famous, you know, for calling God "mother." More specifically, you applied this term to Jesus because it is through him that we are reborn and nurtured in our new life. He carries us, as a mother does her child, in fruitful pregnancy. Based on this analogy of birth, nurturing and pregnancy, the only fitting term is "mother." Hopefully, this beautiful image will not be lost because of myopic imagination or airtight theologies. In your life of seclusion, the charge might be made in our age of high social consciousness that you lived a truncated spirituality. However, your reflections constantly call people to virtue, the practical living out in specific ways the love of God experienced in prayer. Moreover, you often use the expression "fellow-Chris-tians" which indicates that you were deeply concerned about all people. Thomas Merton once stated that he never felt so close to God and his fellow pilgrims as when he was in solitude. That paradoxical experience was also part of your life and you shared it with us well. Speaking of well-ness! A constant refrain is that "all will be well." Time and time again you drive us back to the mystery of providence and the demand for trust in the Lord. The great deed of God will be to bring about total healing of .history and creation. We stand too close to pain to realize this but you had. the faith to believe in the darkness. Indeed, faith is the ability to say "I know that you know." Yet in the darkness of our pain and frailty we want all to be well now, unable and unwilling to accept the woe that comes our way. Again you call us to a central spiritual truth: well-being or woe is not the heart of the matter, rather it is doing the will of the Father. In this lies all holiness and peace. You are a good teacher. Through the analogy of a hazelnut (183), you draw together the mysteries of being created, loved and preserved; the image of a knot (284), points out the tremendous bonding between God and ourselves; at the bottom of the sea (193) you remind us of God's continual presence; in the magnifi-cent image of the city (337) you point out how God dwells forever in our inner abode; in the analogy of the king-servant (188ff) we are present with the familiar and personal working relationship between the Creator and his creature. Add to these pictures of wounds, a purse, the ground, a gardener, a citadel, and you bring us through images into insight. These delightful mental "buckets" help us to retain a wealth of truth and theology. Romanticism gives way to realism because you lived constantly in the shadow of the cross and the experience of suffering that such discipleship entails. You longed to taste.the sufferings of Jesus, your Beloved. Thus your spiritual life was a mixture of consolation and desolation; you accepted this as your Savior did in his life. Very helpful is your description of the alternating movements of the spirits and the constant challenge to accept either with equal peace of mind. Our natural inclination is to flee pain, poverty and deprivation; grace allows us to endure and 644 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 participate in this dark side of life and thereby make great spiritual progress. Attitude of mind is crucial; grace is necessary to train us in proper disposition. The fact that we have little or no control over the alternating spirits deep within adds its own unique cross. Acceptance of this fact is a key to spiritual maturity. In what lies happiness? What is heaven? You respond to these questions with directness and simplicity. Heaven is Jesus: happiness is found in personal relation-ships with our God and his creation. Having things is replaced by being possessed by Love. Being is more significant than doing, though the latter will follow freely when love is embraced. Further, God's bliss is in us--we are his delight, his bliss, his crown. What magnificent mutuality here! God's countenance never changes, his eyes are always filled with love, his smile is graciously upon us. A God who delights in his creatures--you have repeated well the message of the psalmist. Central to our relationship with God is prayer. I really enjoyed your distinction between higher and lower contemplation (339), the former focusing on God's love and causing spiritual joy and delight, the latter gazing upon sin and keeping us in reverential fear and holy shame. What a beautiful balance, a trait that is discernible throughout your writings. Indeed, without contemplation we begin to distance ourselves from our subjective experience and thus from the Lord. Yet he remains ever close; we must be disposed to hear and respond to his slightest touch. Two last points are of great interest to me: the constant reference to divine indwelling and the seeking/finding theme. God has, in his inscrutable providence, decided to make his home within our being. From this flows an incomprehensible dignity that we are challenged to attend to. With such a guest, how reverently we should live! It is because of our blindness and insensitivity that we fail many times to live within this presence. Then too, Julian, you speak of two movements that are of great importance: seeking the Lord and finding him. For you indicate that in the finding we receive consolation and deep joy; in the seeking, the Lord is pleased and delighted. Both are good, yet what is central is the Lord's will. Thus if we are to find the Lord, then we should rejoice in such a grace. Come what may, it is recognizing and doing God's will that determines sanctity. For your lightness of touch, for your sharing of faith vision, for your modeling of prayer, for your gentle humanness, I thank you. With deep affection, RFM Happiness Contentment For until I am substantially united to him, I can never have perfect rest or true happiness, until, that is, 1 am so attached to him that there can be no created thing between my God and me. (183) For this is the loving yearning of the soul through the touch of the Holy Spirit. from the understanding which I have in this revelation: God, of your goodness give me yourself, for you are enough for me, and I can ask for nothing which is less which can pay you full worship. And if I ask anything which is less, always I am in want; but only in you do I have everything. (184) Letters of Gratitude / 845 God's Will Relativity Pleasing God ¯. and therefore we may with reverence ask from our lover all that we will, for our natural will is to have God, and God's good will is to have us, and we can never stop willing or loving until we possess him in the fullness of joy. And there we can will no more, for it is his will that we be occupied in knowing and loving until the time comes that we shall be filled full in heaven¯ (186) But the reason why it seemed to my eyes so little was because I saw it in the presence of him who is the Creator. To any soul who sees the Creator of all things, all that is created seems very little¯ (190) And this vision taught me to understand that the soul's constant search pleases God greatly¯ For it cannot do more than seek, suffer and trust. And this is accomplished in every soul, to whom it is given by the Holy Spirit. And illumination by finding is of the Spirit's special grace, when it is his will. Seeking with faith, hope and love pleases our Lord, and finding pleases the soul and fills it full of joy. And so I was taught to understand that seeking is as good as contemplating, during the time that he wishes to permit the soul to be in labor. It is God's will that we seek on until we see him, for it is through this that he will show himself to us, of his special grace, when it is his will. And he will teach a soul himself how it should bear itself when it contem-plates him, and that is the greatest honor to him and the greatest profit to the soul, and it receives most humility and other virtues, by the grace and guidance of the Holy Spirit¯ For it seems to me that the greatest honor which a soul can pay to God is simply to surrender itself to him with true confidence, whether it be seeking or contemplating. These are the two activities which can be seen in this vision: one is seeking, the other is contemplating. Seeking is common to all, and every soul can have through grace and ought to have discretion and teaching from Holy Church¯ It is God's will that we receive three things from him as gifts as we seek¯ The first is that we seek willingly and diligently without sloth, as that may be with his grace, joyfully and happily, without unreasonable depression and useless sorrow. The second is that we wait for him steadfastly, out of love for him, without grumbling and contending against him, to the end of our lives, for that will last only for a time¯ The third is that we have great trust in him, out of complete and true faith, for it is his will that we know that he will appear, suddenly and blessedly, to all his lovers. For he works in secret, and he will be perceived, and his appearing will be very sudden¯ And he wants to be trusted, for he is very accessible, familiar and courte-ous, blessed may he be. (195-196) And in this my understanding was lifted up into heaven, where I saw our Lord God as a lord in his own house, who has called all'his friends to a splendid' feast. Then I did not see him seated anywhere in his own house; but ! saw him reign in his house as a king and fill it all full of joy and mirth, gladdening and consoling his dear friends with himself, very familiarly and courteo.usly, with wonderful melody in endless love in his own fair blissful countenance, which glorious countenance fills all heaven full of the joy and Citations are reprinted from Julian of Norwich, Showings. trans, by Edmund Colledge, O.S.A., and James Walsh, S.J., © 1978 by The Missionary Society of St. Paul the Apostle in the State of New York, used by permission of Paulist Press. 646 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Dryness of Spirit bliss of the divinity. (203) This vision was shown to teach me to understand that some souls profit by experiencing this. to be comforted at one time, and at another to fail and to be left to themselves. God wishes us to know that he keeps us safe all the time, in sorrow and in joy; and sometimes a man is left to himself for the profit of his soul, although his sin is not always the cause. For in this time I committed no sin for which I ought to have been left to myself, for it was so sudden. Nor did I deserve these feelings of joy, but our Lord gives it freely when he wills, and sometimes he allows us to be in sorrow, and both are one love. For it is God's will that we do all in our power to preserve our consolation, for bliss lasts forevermore, and pain is passing, and will be reduced to nothing for those who will be saved. Therefore it is not God's will that when we feel pain we should pursue it in sorrow and mourning for it, but that suddenly we should pass it over, and preserve ourselves in the endless delight which is God. (205) And when we fall back into ourselves, through depression and spiritual blindness and our experience of spiritual and bodily pains, because of our frailty, it is God's will that we know that he has not forgotten us. (307) For our courteous Lord does not want his servants to despair because they fall often and grievously: for our falling does not hinder him in loving us. (245) Our Lord wants us to have true understanding, and especially in three things which belong to our prayer. The first is with whom and how our prayer originates. He reveals with whom when he says: I am the ground: and he reveals how by his goodness, because he says: First it is my will. As to the second, in what manner and how we should perform our prayers, that is that our will should be tuned, rejoicing, into the will of our Lord. And he means this when he says: I make you to wish it. As to the third; it is that we know the fruit and the end of our prayer, which is to be united and like to our Lord in all things. (250-251) II Simone Weil France Dear Simone, l write in gratitude for your essays touching on a wide range of experience: God's presence in our human condition, the plight of the worker, the meaning of affliction, the purpose of s~tudy, the struggle for justice, the future of political and economic systems. You speak from felt experience, keenly analyzing the causes and effects of human proclivities and aberrations. Provocative, inspiring, challeng-ing all, your reflections have touched many minds and hearts; your sensitive spirit has provided both theoretical and practical implications that continue to have impact on our times. Letters of Gratitude A trait that strikes me deeply is your candidness in addressing personal and collective issues. In regard to your spiritual life, you were drawn toward Catholi-cism but felt that you could not accept that stirring because in so doing you would remove yourself from large segments of the human family. While failing to see the logic of your conclusion, 1 respect your unwillingness to compromise, your com-mitment to principle. Your courage is impressive. Besides personal honesty in terms of your own life-style, you take on systems that oppress and exploit the fundamental rights of people. A deep sense of responsibility toward the common good and a powerful vision of human solidarity made you cry out wherever the dignity of people was threatened or.injured. Human respect did not paralyze you; you were willing to pay the price in your hunger and thirst for justice. A related but distinct theme is your profound insight into the philosophic patterns of means-end. The ultimate evil is to reverse the order of reality: turning means into ends (138). This principle explains so much of life. Other authors concur with your observation but from slightly different angles: C. $. Lewis warns of getting caught on Christianity (creeds, codes, cults) and' forgetting about Christ; he notes elsewhere how writers begin to focus more on how they say things rather than the truth which is the end of all discourse. Pope John Paul 11 speaks about techhology enslaving the person whenever humans fail to exercise their proper responsibility over the instruments that they have created. All in all, exploitation and manipulation are the consequences of failing to allow'the goal to govern the process. Such a failure fosters death, not life. By profession you did spend some time teaching. In writing about this most noble vocation you articulated a thesis that all study, by its very nature, is directed toward the love of God and is a preparation for that love. The inner dynamism of the process contains the power of contemplation, that human act of loving atten-tiveness that puts us into intimate contact with reality. All study is an exercisein attention; attention is a form of contemplation: contemplation is essentially a union with reality whose ultimate source is God. In faith we bglieve that all creation in some way manifests the Creator. Thus your thesis has a firm theologi-cal basis. Regardless of the discipline, be it anthropology, sociology or literature, attentiveness to the reality exposed by these studies is indirectly preparing the alert student to love of God. What joy this is for the faith-filled teacher; what a surprise to the atheist who unwittingly leads the searching student into the embrace of God. Shakespeare once wrote: "Expose thyself to feel what wretches feel." You worked in a factory and understood from experience many of the trials of human life. From the inside you struggled with need and pain, small joys and unhappy compensations. Choice, not necessity, drew you into this world. To the extent that you did not need to remain in the w~rld of wretches, possessing the necessary resources both intellectually and materially to exit at will, there was a tinge of unreality in such a choice. Not all the strings were cut. Regardless, you tasted the full range of boredom, anomie and meaninglessness that result from situations in which people are no longer dealt with as persons but are treated as objects or machines. It was from this posture that you prophetically demanded reform in 641~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 systems that impinged negatively on the hearts and dignity of people. Your words continue to challenge our generation, caught by a vast technological network that threatens our freedom and enslaves our spirits. A special influence in your life was a poem by George Herbert entitled "Love." While concentrating with great effort on the inner meaning of this distant, sensitive man's beautiful verse, you encountered the Lord. Drawn into the dialogue of the poem your heart was captured and held fast. The intimacy and indwelling articu-lated by HerbertAake us to the heart of faith: a deep personal relationship with God that provides a basis for discipleship. The struggle expressed between the invitation to be with God and one's sense of unworthiness, between resting in the Lord and being busy with one's duties and responsibilities, between allowing God to be God and trying to control the flow of lives--all these apparently were part of your existential experience. In a single short poem, crucial life issues were raised and given a resolution: to live in his presence. Eternal joy is contingent upon our individual responseto this challenge. The ways in which God touched your life were as many as the ways in which he used you to influence others. Your awareness of this sensitive process is de-scribed by the term "instrumentality." Through various persons, seen precisely as channels of grace, the Lord made his presence felt: Fr. Perrin acting as friend-counselor transmitted a sense of faith; Homer writing in The Iliad shared a scope of reality and human interaction that enriched your sense of meaning; close friends, intervening at key moments in your life, made visible divine love in word and deed. Having known the divine presence, you in turn shared, through your finely honed gifts, your interpretation of that experience. The Creator and creature in dynamic mutuality! St. Francis' prayer experienced and lived! All of us who have read your works know firsthand the power, meaning and joy of this instrumentality. Sincerely, R.F.M. Friendship Fear But the greatest blessing you have brought me is of another order. In gaining my friendship by your charity (which 1 have never met anything to equal), you have provided me with a source of the most compelling and pure inspiration that is to be found among human things. For nothing among human things has such power to keep our gaze fixed ever more intensely upon God, than friendship for the friends of God. (19) Everybody knows that really intimate conversation is only possible between two or three. As soon as there are six or seven, collective language begins to dominate. That is why it is a complete misinterpretation to apply to the Church the words "Wheresoever two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." Christ did not say two hundred, or fifty, or ten. He said two or three. He said precisely that he always forms the third in the intimacy of the tete-a-tete: (23) As always happens, mental confusion and passivity leave free scope to the imagination. On all hand~ one is obsessed by a representation of social life Letters of Gratitude Prayer Joy Presence Unhappiness Expression which, while differing considerably from one class to another, is always made up of m~,,steries, occult qualities, myths, idols and monsters; each one thinks that power resides mysteriously in one of the classes to which he has no access, because hardly anybody understands that it resides nowhere, so that the dominant feeling everywhere is that dizzy fear which is always brought about by loss of contact with reality. (37) The key to a Christian conception of studies is the realization that prayer consists of attention. It is the orientation of all the attention of which the soul is capable toward God. The quality of the attention counts for much in the quality of prayer. Warmth of heart cannot make up for it. (44) The intelligence can only be led by desire. For there to be desire, there must be pleasure and joy in the work. The intelligence only grows and bears fruit in joy. The joy of learning is as indispensable in study as breathing is in running. Where it is lacking there are no real students, but only poor caricatures of apprentices who, at the end of their apprenticeship, will not even have a trade. (48) Not only does the love of God have attention for its substance; the love of neighbor, which we know to be the same love, is made of this same substance. Those who are unhappy have no need for anything in this world but people capable of giving them their attention. The capacity to give one's attention to a sufferer is a very rare and difficult thing: it is almost a miracle; it is a miracle. Nearly all those who think they have this capacity do not possess it. Warmth of heart, impulsiveness, pity are not enough . The love of our neighbor in all its fullness simply means being able to say to him: ~What are you going through?". This way of looking is first of all attentive. The soul empties itself of all its own contents in order to receive into itself the being it is looking at, just as he is, in all his truth. (51) Nothing is more difficult to know than the nature of unhappiness: a residue of mystery will always cling to it. For, following the Greek proverb, it is dumb. To seize its exact shadings and causes presupposes an aptitude for inward analysis which is not characteristic of the unhappy. Even if that aptitude existed in this or that individual, unhappiness itself would balk such an activity of thought. Humiliation always has for its effect the crea-tion of forbidden zones where thought may not venture and which are shrouded by silence and illusion. When the unhappy complain, they almost always complain in superficial terms, without voicing the nature of their true discontent; moreover, in cases of profound and permanent unhappi-ness, a strongly developed sense of shame arrests all lamentation. Thus, every unhappy condition among men creates the silent zone alluded to, in which each is isolated as though on an island. Those who do escape from the island will not look back. The exceptions turn out almost always to be more apparent,than real. (64) No thought attains to its fullest existence unless it is incarnated in a human environment, and by environment I mean something open to the world around, something which is steeped in the surrounding society and is in contact with the whole of it, and not simply a closed circle of disciples Citations are reprinted with permission from the book The Sirnone Weil Reader. edited by George Panichas, © 1977. Published by David McKay Co., Inc. 650 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Silence Suffering Joy Instrumentality Idea Suffering Failings around a master. (84) The whole of space is filled, even though sounds can be heard, with a dense silence which is not an absence of sound but is a positive sound object of sensation; it is the secret world, the world of Love who holds us in his arms from the beginning. (87) I am convinced that affliction on the one hand, and on the other hand joy, when it is a complete and pure commitment to perfect beauty, are the only two keys which give entry to the realm of purity, where one can breathe: the home of the real. But each of them must be unmixed: the joy without a shadow of incompleteness, the affliction completely unconsoled. You understand me, of course. That divine love which one touches in the depth of affliction, like Christ's resurrection through crucifixion, that love which is the central core and intangible essence of joy, is not a consola-tion. It leaves pain completely intact . for anyone in affliction, evil can perhaps be defined as being everything that gives any consolation. (92-93) We know that joy is the sweetness of contact with the love of God, that affliction is the wound of this same contact when it is painful, and that only the contact matters, not the manner of it. (107) It is more suitable for some thoughts to come by direct inspiration; it is more suitable for others to be transmitted through some creature. God uses either way with his friends. It is well-known that no matter what thing, a donkey for instance, can be used as agent without making any difference. It pleases God perhaps to choose the most worthless objects for this purpose. I am obliged to tell myself these things so as not to be afraid of my own thoughts. (110) Now, everybody knows from his own experience how unusual it is for an abstract idea having a long-term utility to triumph over present pains, needs and desires. It must, however, do so in the matter of social existence, on pain of a regression to a primitive form of life. (150) ¯ . . for the understanding of human suffering is dependent upon justice, and love is its condition. (181) In private life also, each of us is always tempted to set his own failings to a certain extent, on one side. relegate them to some attic, invent some method of calculation ~hereby they turn out to be of no real consequence. To give way to this temptation is to ruin the soul; it is the one above all, that has to be conquered. (187) III Ralph Waldo Emerson New England Dear Mr. Emerson, I write in gratitude for the brilliant essays that have flown so freely from your generous pen. Few subjects escape your incisive gaze and contemplative spirit. Letters of Gratitude / 65"1 History, personalities, nature, culture, education, politics, religion have all elicited your comments and artistic revelation. Lecture halls in America and Europe still reecho with the sound of your voice; the mind and heart of many a transcendental-ist quiver with awe at your observations. Even the woods and hills of New England have never been the same since your vision of their very essence. The inward journey! If for no other reason than this, your writings challenge our achievement-oriented generation and activistic culture to reexamine its values and life-style. Prime time and energy must be budgeted for personal interior renewal. You model well for us here. Interiority was a way of life which you evidenced by the depth of your writing. Your words come from a source far beyond your own power; one can sense this in the tone of your discourse. Your contemplative stance presents a viable option for many of us desirous of a life-style radically different from the one offered by our culture. Another world that is not primarily concerned with productivity and external achievements is available to anyone who desires it. Your life makes present such a choice and, though fear of the interior life remains, your courageous entrance instills hope. "Self-Reliance" is a most powerful essay. You state that the divine spark resides in all of us and tends to be activated in sporadic moments. All have the potential in varying degress for genius--those with developed artistic skills express that genius in some visible-audible manner. My understanding of your meaning of self-reli-ance is not that we are called to some solitary, stoical, individualistic self-suffi-ciency; but rather, that we are motivated to get in touch with our deepest self, far beyond the superficial narrowness of our surface self and find therein a wealth that is wedded to the life force (what we call in theological terms, God). Such an analysis would imply that not to have self-reliance would be to cut oneself off from the source of existence. Your abhorrence of conformity and false consistency is well taken at this point. A failure to live from internalized values carries the price tag of no personal identity, a price paid by too many. Healthy and authentic self-reliance fosters true identity and its accompanying freedom. Initially, I struggled with your style--philosophic, at times highly abstract and tight. Profundity and clarity are seldom happily married because of the mysterious nature of reality. The closer one is to truth the more difficult becomes its expres-sion. Simplicity gets covered by human discourse. The mental challenge to reach beyond any style is well worth the effort. Your writings contain a spirit of deep tension between the individual and collective whole, between personal freedom and authoritarian structures, between self and institutions. You are clearly committed to the first value in each set, i.e., the individual, freedom and self. This seems so obvious that the advantages and importance of the common good are not given full weight, the necessity of some structures containing an authority is not fully appreciated, the role that a given institution can play in fostering life fails to be properly valued. Your own expe-rience of leaving the institutional ministry may have had much to do with your outlook. Perhaps the delicate balance between complementary sets of values can-not be maintained by a prophetic spirit such as yours. An implicit principle of 652 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 nature indicates that the development in one direction of our giftedness entails the underdeveloping of others. Such is reality. Thus the experience of your own genius would not allow outer pressures to thwart its expression. The negative and re-straining forces within institutional structures, the decisions of authority and the challenges of social concerns--all thirsting for precious time and energy--weighed so heavily in your judgment that their advantages had to be forfeited. Your piercing intellect cut through what is extraneous in human experience into its heart, the essence of things. In succinct, pithy phrases, you captured principles and patterns of universal significance, thus shedding light on complex experiences and bringing joy to the spirit which perceives but lacks words to articulate its insight. In a single essay many such phrases reside, awaiting discovery by the thirsting soul. For example, in "Compensation" we read: Nature hates monopolies and exceptions. There is a crack in every thing God has made. Fear is an instructor of great sagacity and the herald of all revolutions. Commit a crime, and the earth is made of glass. It is the nature of the soul to appreciate all things. How unfortunate that many have not stopped at your well of late. As a beneficiary of your life-giving water, ! express deep gratitude to you. Your legacy is vast and varied: intellectual excellence of the highest quality, challenging us to develop the rich potential of our minds; historical perspective promoting a contextual vision of life; critical analysis of incisive accuracy, drawing us out of naivete into a sense of healthy criticism; personal integrity as a key goal of growth, demanding that we be true to our own giftedness; enthusiastic living of life, abhorring stagnation and the living of others' scripts; literary expertise ranging from the classic prose to the most lyrical poetry, inviting us to revisit the verbal gems of distant ~pilgrims. These qualities have influenced many: Henry David Thoreau, Emily Dickinson, and countless others. The legacy has not been forgotten. Sincerely, R.F.M. Revelation Perspective We distinguish the announcements of the soul, its manifestations of its own nature, by the term Revelation. These are always attended by the emotion of the sublime. For this communication is an influx of the Divine mind into our mind. It is an ebb of the individual rivulet before the flowing surges of the sea of life. Every distinct apprehension of this central com-mandment agitates men with awe and delight. A thrill passes through all men at the reception of new truth, or at the performance of a great action, which comes out of the heart of nature. In these communications the power to see is not separated from the will to do, but the insight proceeds from obedience, and the obedience proceeds from a joyful perception. (269) The field cannot be well seen from within the field. The astronomer must Letters of Gratitude / 653 Hope Beauty Poet Words Beauty Wisdom Expectation Action Presence have his diameter of the earth's orbit as a base to find the parallax of any star. (285) But the man and woman of seventy assume to know a[[, they have outlived their hope, they renounce aspiration, accept the actual for the necessary and talk down to the young, Let them then become organs of the Holy Ghost; let them be lovers; let them behold truth: and their eyes are uplifted. their wrinkles smoothed, they are perfumed again with hope and power. (289) Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us, or we find it not. (309) Too feeble fall the impressions of nature on us to make us artists. Every touch should tbrill. Every man should be so much an artist that he could report in conversation what had befallen him. Yet, in our experience, the rays or appulses have sufficient force to arrive at the senses, but not enough to reach the quick and compel the reproduction to themselves in speech. The poet is the person in whom these powers are in balance, the man without impediment, who sees and handles that which others dream of, traverses the whole scale of experience, and is representative of man, in virtue of being the largest power to receive and to impart. (321) Words and deeds are quite indifferent modes of the divine energy. Words are also actions, and actions are a kind of words. (322) Wherever snow falls or water flows or birds fly, wherever day and night meet in twilight, wherever the blue heaven is hung by clouds or sown with stars, wherever are forms with transparent boundaries, wherever are outlets into celestial space, wherever is danger, and awe. and love--there is Beauty, plenteous as rain, shed for thee, and though thou shouldst walk the world over, thou shalt not be able to find a condition inopportune or ignoble. (341) To finish the moment, to find the journey's end in every step of the road, to live the greatest number of good hours, is wisdom. (350) I compared notes with one of my friends who expects everything of the universe and is disappointed when anything is less than the best, and I found that ! begin at the other extreme, expecting nothing, and am always full of thanks for moderate goods. (351) Therefore all just persons are satisfied with their own praise. They refuse to explain themselves, and are content that new actions should do them that office. They believe that we communicate without speech and above speech, and that no right action of ours is quite unaffecting to our friends, at whatever distance; for the influence of action is not to be measured by miles. (358) Why should 1 fret myself because a circumstance has occurred which hinders my presence where I was expected? If I am not at the meeting, my presence where 1 am should be as useful to the commonwealth of friend-ship and wisdom, as would be my presence in that place. I exert the same quality of power in all places. (358) Reprinted from The Selected Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson edited by Brooks Atkinson. Pub-lished by Random House, Inc. 654 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Truth Joy Life Renewal Faith Avarice Truth is the summit of being: justice is the application of it to affairs. (368) On the other part, rectitude is a perpetual victory, celebrated not by cries of joy but by serenity, which is joy fixed or habitual. (370) Life goes headlong. We chase some flying scheme, or we are hunted by some fear or command behind us. But if suddenly we encounter a friend, we pause: our heat and hurry look foolish enough: now pause, now posses-sion is required, and the power to swell the moment from the resources of the heart. The moment is all. in all noble relations. (378) The criticism and attack on institutions, which we have witnessed, has made one thing plain, that society gains nothing whilst a man, not himself renovated, attempts to renovate things around him: he has become tediously good in some particular but negligent or narrow in the rest; and hypocrisy and vanity are often the disgusting result. (455) The disease with which the human mind now labors is want of faith. (458) A canine appetite for knowledge was generated, which must still be fed but was never satisfied, and this knoffledge, not being directed on action, never took the character of substantial, humane truth, blessing those whom it entered. It gave the scholar certain powers of expression, the power of speech, the power of poetry, of literary art, but it did not bring him to peace or to beneficence. (459) Address: The Contemporary Spirituality Of the Monastic Lectio by Matthias Neuman, O.S.B. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious Room 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Poverty, Time, Solitude: A Context for a Celibate Life-style Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem. Brother Wieczorek's ~Parables and Paradigms" appeared in the July/August issue. He resides presently at the Holy Spirit House of Studies; 4841 South Woodlawn Ave.; Chicago, IL 60615. Celibacy is a dimension of a religious way of life. To be understood, therefore, celibacy must be seen in the context of religious life. The meaning of celibacy arises out of its relationship with the complementary vows of poverty and obedience, as well as out of the significance of communal life, prayer, and basic Christian virtue. Seen out of the context of all these elements, celibacy suffers a deprivation and a distortion. From the outset, it is important to be reminded that celibacy is not simply an ethic. Taken out of its context, celibacy is often reduced to being a moral direc-tive-- a negative moral directive. Celibacy is much more than a set of specific sexual mores; it is an extension of Christian virtue, a continuation of it. The sexual demeanor proper to celibacy rests upon Christian virtues and values such as respect for human dignity, single-heartedness, the sacredness of human life, a deep appreciation for what friendship and love can be, compassion, selflessness, and service. A discussion of celibacy must begin here. Before a decision can be made about living celibately, the question must be considered: What does it mean to live a Christian way of life? Am I willing to live with the restraints and limitations imposed upon me, not by celibacy, but by basic Christian values? Only after a person is willing to try to understand, accept, and live a Christian way of life can the matter of celibacy be addressed. Without this prior realization and commitment, celibacy has no context, no depth of meaning, and is left to be nothing more than just another "Thou shalt not . To see at least some part of the richness and potential of celibacy, it must be 655 656 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 viewed as a dedication to poverty, a devotion of time, and a dependence upon solitude. Celibacy as a Dedication to Poverty The vow of celibacy stands nearest to the vow of poverty. Hence, it is an understanding of poverty that sheds the most light upon an understanding of celibacy. If poverty as a way of life cannot be embraced, neither can celibacy. Poverty is precisely a way of living. It is much more than not having the money to buy something .To be poor means to be without many of the everyday options and opportunities that people who are not poor have. To be poor means, among other things, to live in a constant situation of restriction and limitedness. A poor person has not the option of going to a movie or a ball game, of eating apple pie or cherry, of going to one restaurant rather than another, of wearing these shoes or those, this coat or that. Very often poor people do not have these options because they do not have the physical resources that allow for them. Yet despite being deprived of these "necessities" the poor can live happy and holy lives. The fact of poverty, the force of its physical reality, compels people who are poor to live according to needs and not simply wants. Poverty can "cleanse" us of the unnecessary. It can put us into a situation where we are able to more clearly distinguish between a need and a want. Poverty can liberate us from the bondage of wants, leaving us free to pursue our true needs, those things without which we cannot fully live a human life. Poverty can be humbling by forcing us to face our needs but it can also teach us that happiness lies not in having every want satisfied but in having our true needs satisfied. Seen in this light, poverty is the paradigm for celibacy. Celibacy is not simply a deprivation, it is a way of life. Therefore, it must be a way of relating. While we can be impoverished in some ways of expressing love, we can be rich in others. After all, intimacy does not depend upon sexual expression any more than a meaningful gift depends upon price. The very restrictedness of our expression can heighten the value of a poem or letter or a simple touch or smile. Celibacy, like poverty, can teach true gratitude for the beauty and preciousness of relationships. Celibacy has the potential to "cleanse" us of what is not essential and let us see what we truly need to both give and receive from people--the trust, the sharing, the dreaming. Celibacy does not demand that we repress our needs. Rather, it points them out in bolder relief and challenges us to distinguish between the frustration caused by the deprivation of needs and that caused by the depriva-tion of our wants. It sometimes requires just as much creativity to live celibately as it does to live in poverty. Do I have the grace to express myself creatively to others? If the limitedness of deliberate impoverishment can be willfully chosen and reason for gratitude in one's life still be found, if one can be satisfied to have needs fulfilled even if wants must go unsatisfied and yet remain appreciative and joyous, then perhaps such a person truly has the grace, the call to live celibately. A Context for a Celibate Life-style / 657 Such a call is a gift. It is the nature of gifts to be both given and received. Therefore, it is quite possible to refuse the gift of celibacy. One of the most common ways of refusing celibacy is by being filled with self-pity. It is not uncommon to hear celibates of all ages bemoan their celibacy the way an amputee bemoans the loss of a limb. Like some amputee victims, celibates can easily become lost in the conviction that they are only half human, that they are not whole. The way to overcome such feelings is not by trying to prove manliness or womanliness. Rather, the challenge is to find worth and dignity in who we are, in the deeper and more lasting qualities of humanness like compassion, the ability to listen, to laugh, to be grateful, to stand outside ourselves at the service of others. Our humanness depends upon our ability to love. That we love and are loved is a need. How we love and are loved is a want. Celibates live in the poverty of not having all their wants satisfied. Celibacy means distinguishing between needs and wants, accepting what cannot be. and finding satisfaction, thanksgiving, and peace in what is. Celibacy as a Devotion of Time One thing that poverty does provide in abundance is time. Being bereft of options does free up large amounts of time. Celibacy likewise provides an abundance of time. The challenge is how that time is to be spent, what our time is to be devoted to. Celibacy, for example, frees us from the time it takes to raise a family, but what does it free us for? Ideally, perhaps, we are freed for prayer, reading, study, even the opportunity to take time to see and wonder and dream. Celibacy also frees us to serve, to be available for people. Yet if all we do is remain available for work and devote little or no time to prayer and reading, we are distorting celibacy by removing it from a critical dimension of its context. A big danger for both celibates and non-celibates is that they give themselves more to their jobs than to God and their families or communities. It is this issue, the proper use of time, that causes one of the biggest consternations for celibates. The tendency toward entrenchment in work can be an escape from intimacy, but it is also true that many of the occupations engaged in by celibates are extremely time-consuming and energy draining. Moreover, it is work which simply must be done. The tension between giving time and taking iime is not lessened by the fact that most celibates do recognize the necessity for being present to community and for entering into solitude with God. A celibate life-style that does not allow for time not only to recreate but also to read and reflect cannot give life to the celibate. Such a life-style will consume that person instead. One of the challenges and disciplines of celibacy is the proper use of time. While celibacy ought to provide time, in practice it often does not. Here, too, celibacy shows a connection with poverty. The poor guard and dispense their resources carefully, So too with the celibate's dispensing of time. Workaholism is as much a threat to celibacy as sexual licentiousness--perhaps 6511 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 even more so. Our consciences are sensiiive to the issue of sexual restraint but not to making mistresses out of our work. Our culture emphasizes efficiency, produc-tivity, and frowns upon anything that hints of wasting time. Therefore, celibates who find even a little free time quickly and perhaps unconsciously fill it in by doing more. Yet celibacy as a life-style requires time to be set aside not for doing but for being. Time is a gift many celibates refuse to accept because in part they are afraid to take it. Time only makes the loneliness echo more loudly. Time takes away excuses. It confronts us, Yet time in a celibate life-style is essential, for it provides the panorama that enables us to see what we are to move toward. It gives us the opportunity to see and address our needs. Time must be part of every celibate's life, for without that time celibacy loses its context and the solitude that nourishes celibacy cannot be obtained. While celibacy ought to provide time, it is a commod-ity which so few celibates seem to have. Yet time is an essential resource for the celibate for it alone can acquire solitude for us. Celibacy as a Dependence Upon Solitude Celibacy cannot be endured, let alone lived, without the time to enter into solitude with God. Only by freely and gratefully embracing solitude can a person find life in celibacy. Solitude is not loneliness but aloneness, time apart to be alone with oneself and with one's God. Solitude for the celibate is essential for several reasons. Solitude teaches surrender. It strips away the illusion of wants. It is a confrontation with what is real. of what is essential, of what is true. Solitude teaches sight. In the stillness of solitude we see what we would ordinarily have overlooked, assumed, or taken for granted. Through solitude, we are taught to appreciate, admire, and wonder. Solitude teaches sensitivity. Compassion comes from seeing with another's eyes. Solitude makes one hungry to enter into another's life deeply, personally, respectfully, and ge~atly. But often celibates do not embrace solitude. Instead we try to fill in our time with possessions, work. television, and peripheral friendships. Yet it is essential that celibates in particular spend time in solitude so as to spend time with God. In sqlitude we take time to share in God's aloneness. It is in solitude that we can more deeply fall in love with God. If a celibate does not put an effort into being at peace with solitude, into making a friend of solitude, not only does God become a stranger, but we become strangers to ourselves, and celibacy becomes an empty taunt and an ache. Solitude is so important for celibacy because solitude is a quiet moment with God in the privacy and intimacy of one's own heart. Solitude is the backdrop for the silence we need to hear the Word of God. Solitude is the setting for prayer.It directs our life back to God. There is some-thing about solitude that draws us back to center. If we are afraid to spend time with ourselves in the aloneness of our center, we will not come to commune with the silent places of God. The prayer that comes from solitude is the celibate's life blood. Without prayer, celibacy will not. cannot, endure. Without solitude spent with God we become A Context for a Celibate Life-style / 659 strangers to him and so to prayer. Prayer may lead us out of a celibate life-style, but without prayer the apparent emptiness and futility will drive us out of it. Solitude, far from removing us from relationships, prepares us for them. In solitude we have the setting in which to know ourselves, to see ourselves truly, to hear ourselves honestly. To enter into solitude is to venture into the truth of ourselves--be that what it may. With that knowledge we are free to interact with people as persons. With a sense of our own depths we can move toward the depths of others and together with them enter in faith into the depths of God. Conclusion For a full understanding of what celibacy is, it is important that a person move beyond the initial frustration and unnaturalness of living a life of Christian virtues and enter into the discovery of the real mystery and beauty of celibacy. Celibacy centers around accepting solitude, welcoming time, and living in gratitude. It is such things as these that make celibacy seem unnatural. It is not acceptable or typical to be poor, to have time for oneself and for prayer, or to enter willingly into the solitude of one's own soul. To so many, the "unnaturalness" of celibacy is reduced to sexual denial, the deliberate refusal to marry and raise a family. Yet these are only peripheral issues. The seriousness of these issues, however, under-scores the deeper difficulty of celibate life. Celibacy is not only an orientation away from family and spouse (which is hard enough), it must be an orientation toward poverty, time, and solitude. Celibacy itself is neither the sacrifice nor the offering. What we do with celi-bacy is. The beauty and fulfillment in celibacy is found not in what it moves us away from but in what it compels us toward. To find peace and sanctity in celibacy, it is not so important what we purposely and deliberately deny. Rather, it is much more important what we willingly and lovingly embrace. The Celibacy Experience Stephen Rossetti In May, Stephen Rossetti, author of "Psychology and Spirituality: Distinction Without Separation" (July/August, 1981), was awarded his M.A. in Theology from Catholic University, where he plans to continue in the graduate program. His mailing address is: 26 Reed Pkwy., Marcellus, NY 1310g. He who remains in Zion and he that is left in Jerusalem Will be called holy (Is 4:3). Consecrated celibacy is in crisis. The resignation of priests, sisters and brothers, many of them highly respected members of the Church, is no secret. Fear ripples through the ranks of those who have remained, as their closest friends leave to get married. A painful self-analysis naturally follows: Do we really have to be celibate? Why am I the only one left? Will it happen to me? Is celibacy only a vestige of an outmoded spirituality? Why am I still left? Some say the crisis is waning. The Diocese of Buffalo recently reported that its loss of priests and sisters from 1976-81 was only 8.1% and 4.6% respectively, compared to 21.2% and ! 7% from 197 !-76.~ While it seems that fewer are leaving, there are still fewer left in the ranks to do the necessary tasks. It is questionable whether relief is in sight. The continuing decline in priestly vocations in the United States indicates that the crisis is still with us. This past year there has been yet another decline (8.8%) in the number of U.S. theology students studying for the priesthood. These are less than half of the number of the peak years of 1966-67.2 The exodus of priests and sisters is a mult: faceted problem which is more than ~John C. Given, "Buffalo Diocese: Fewer Priests, Nuns Leaving Religious Life," Syracuse Herald- Journal, 30 December 1981, p. A-3. 2"Seminary Enrollment Drops," National Catholic Register, 20 December 1981. 660 The Celibacy Experience / 661 just a crisis in celibacy. However. the internaliTation of celibacy must be seen as a key element in any discussion of the problem. In the first half of this article, i will raise the modern problems with celibacy and look at contemporary attempts to solve this crisis. In this first section, 1 will include such key issues as the essential relationship between mysticism and inter-nalized celibacy, the lack of support for young celibates, a critical look at current discussions about celibacy, and then the important issue of intimacy in a celibate life. In the second half, 1 will attempt to resolve the modern problems with celibacy by returning to the context of mysticism and positing an approach to the subject which is both existential and scriptural. Celibacy and Mysticism In The Psychology of Loving, Ignace Lepp says that the chastity of those consecrated to Christ must be "counterbalanced by a genuinely mystical life." If it is not, there is the risk of psychic damage: The libido cannot be channeled in a different direction without injury to sexuality unless it finds itself entirely consumed in the service of higher psychic activity? There must be, then, a necessary connection between celibacy and mysticism. In our use of the word here, "mysticism" does not refer to extraordinary phenome-na such as visions or locutions, nor does it refer to the highest states of union with God. Rather mysticism, here, means a "genuine though mediated experience of encounter and communication with the personal God."4 In this sense of mystical, the experience is direct and conscious, and it involves God as person. The experience is also mediated. The word mysticism derives from the Greek word mueo. which means to initiate (as into a "hidden" mystery). The mystery can be hidden under, or mediated by, any aspect of life. However, a preeminent place must be given to the classic Christian mediations--which include Scripture, prayer, tradition, and the sacraments--most of all the Eucharist. Hidden within our ordinary life experiences is the presence of Christ. The "mystical experience" is one in which this personal encounter becomes more and more conscious. This encounter becomes stronger as the years pass and celibacy is internalized. The mystical life allows the channeling of sexual and some emotional needs into "higher psychic activity" which results in a mature celibacy. On the other hand, if the mystical life is permitted to atrophy, then a mature celibacy, if not the entire celibate life, will suffer with it. William McNamara, in his latest work, Christian Mysticism: A Psychotheology, believes that the mystical life is indeed atrophying, despite some evidence to the contrary: Hgnace Lepp, The Ps.vchology of Loving. trans. Bernard B. Gilligan (New York: A Mentor Omega Book, 1963), p. 213. 4Karl Rahner, ed., Encyclopedia of Theology: 7he Concise Sacramentum Mundi (New York: A Crossroad Book, The Seabury Press, 1975), p. 1009. 662 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 It is obvious that we are presently witnessing a psychical revolution, one. in many respects. that has won the approval of science (biofeedback. body consciousness, metapsychiatry. neuroscience, paraphysics, etc.) and one that could, if properly guided, improve our human condition, and expand our human consciousness immeasurably. There is little evidence. however, that a spiritual-mystical renewal is going on. despite Vatican 11 and the subsequent changes in the Church.5 If McNamara is correct, celibacy will be lost. A truly internalized celibacy, that is, a mature celibacy, requires this mystical life. If celibacy does not become mystical, if it does not grow into a mystical vision, then "God's grace" alone will not uphold the celibate. Grace builds and makes possible an authentic Christian-mystical life; it is not a supernatural substitute for our humanity. Celibacy without mysticism may degenerate inlo mere asceticism, which would be ultimately self-destructive for lack of love. McNamara goes on to say that "man is naturally contemplative. But his mystical powers, left unexercised for so long, are seriously atrophied."6 This is a serious loss for all believers since it has a direct impact on the vitality of their faith and on the development of their full humanity. However, for the celibate in particular, this situation is fatal. With an atrophied mystical life, he is likely to reject celibacy for the sake of his "sanity": he will slowly die to ministry: or he will sublimate his sexual desires in non-productive ways. ls McNamara correct in saying that we have let our mystical powers atrophy and thus we have lost an internalized celibacy? The exodus of consecrated celibates points in that direction. At any rate, in the light of the past twenty years, we can slarely say that in the present state of crisis the depth of our commitment is being tested. In previous years it might have been possible to survive in celibacy by relying on secondary supports. Today it is just not possible. Within this crisis, celibates must develop a mature, internalized love of celibacy based first and fore'most on their own mystical vision and growing encounter with the risen Christ. The state of the Church and Western society makes this absolutely necessary. Little Support for Remaining in the Celibate State Our Western culture offers little support for celibacy. In fact, it is, in some ways, the most discouraging culture possible for a celibate. It ignores religion. Our culture is essentially a-Christian (without Christianity). It would be easier to main-tain a celibate commitment in a culture that is hostile to Christianity--as in the days of the early Christians. At least one could then take heart amidst persecution and 'join" on~self to a tightly knit community of brothers and sisters totally dedi-cated to Christ while fighting an obvious, common antagonist. But today's West-ern culture ignores religion and the celibate. Heroism is more difficult in the face of 5William McNamara, Christian Mysticism: A Psychotheology (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1981), p. 20. 61bid. p. 22. The Celibacy Experience disinterest than of hatred--and celibacy is a heroic life. It receives inspiration from a culture which applauds those who live it. And it flourishes when it is persecuted. But when it is ignored, it is most sorely tried. On a deeper level, however, it is not quite accurate to say that our culture is totally oblivious to Christianity. The words of the Gospel ring true: "He who is not with me is against me, and he who does not gather with me scatters" (Lk 1 !:23). In the final analysis, it is not possible to be neutral to the message of Christ. In whatever form it is presented, explicitly or implicitly, the message of salvation will either be accepted or rejected. Our culture is no exception. Underneath its appar-ent unconcern with Christianity is a subtle barrage of counter-invitations. There are constant overt and subliminal innuendos that cannot fail to tug and tug at the Christian's sexual drives. Our society manifests a sort of cultural passive-aggressive behavior, one that seems tolerant of Christianity but is subtly waging war on its norms. Without Christ, our society loses touch with its deepest need for meaning. According to psychiatrist Viktor Frankl: What is behind the emphasis on sexual achievement and power, what is behind this will to sexual pleasure and happiness is again the frustrated will to meaning. Sexual libido only hypertrophies in an existential vacuum. The result is an inflation of sex . 7 This "inflation of sex" in our society sorely tests the strongest of celibates. The uncommitted are likely to be entrapped. Not only does our culture attack the value of celibacy, new Western attitudes also undermine previous supports for the celibate. There is a new attitude towards authority and tradition: a child-like obedience is not acceptable to the modern mind. As Victor Frankl says, "in contrast to man in former times, he is no longer told by traditions and values what he should do.'~ Likewise, those in the Church accept less and less the fact of canon law and magisterial teaching as being reason enough for remaining celibate. This changing attitude towards authority and tradi-tion is encouraged by the great upheavals within the post-Vatican II Church. The opportunities within such a freedom are great, yet there is also a concomitant increase of danger. Within such a freedom celibates are required to make their commitment their own, with little support from the culture or Church tradition. Concomitant with this rejection of authority and tradition, there is a shift in our concepts, theologies and spirituality. Words such as obedience, sacrifice, ascet-icism and sin are used less frequently. A new model has been substituted which 1 will call the "human growth" model of spirituality. This modern growth-model uses existential concepts such as freedom, human development, holistic growth, and personal responsibility. It understands development in the spiritual life as growth in love and intimacy. It stresses the importance of psychology, self-knowl- 7Viktor E. Frankl, The Unconscious God: Psychotherapy and Theology (New York: Simon and Schuster. 1975), pp. 85-86. ~ Slbid., p. 91. 6 ~4 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 edge, wholeness and all that is authentically human. This model is no doubt a positive, legitimate step in the progress toward a twentieth-century spirituality. It reacts strongly against a previous tendency to reject humanity in favor of some angelic spirituality. Nonetheless, the model has serious shortcomings, e.g., a failure to relate a mature, self-sacrificing obedience to human freedom. And with the transition from earlier models of spirituality to the human growth model, a problem has developed in our theology of celibacy. On the basis of this model it is not so easy to provide an understanding of a celibate life. Love, marriage, children are all an integral part of what it means to be fully human. Without the sharing of the deepest levels of intimacy, as between husband and wife, it would seem that the human growth of.a celibate must be stunted. Our former theology had several ways of dealing with this lack of full intimacy for celibates. For example, repeating an oft-cited idea on celibacy, the Council Fathers of Vatican I1 stated that celibate priests thereby evoke that mysterious marriage which was established by God and will be fully manifested in the future, and by which the Church has Christ as her only spouse.9 There is a theological truth in these and similar statements, but to the modern mind they seem to mean little. How can a "mysterious marriage" deepen my intimacy? To some it sounds like "magical grace." Such theological categories do not mesh with the modern mind which thinks in terms of intersubjectivity, inti-macy, personal self-gift, loving response, and the importance of concrete, interper-sonal relationships for spiritual growth and for ushering in the kingdom of love and peace. This change in mentality requires a change in theology as well. Some New Approaches to Celibacy In Sacrarnentum Mundi Leonhard Weber says: In the formation of priests and in their further development, many of the supports of celibacy which were hitherto relied on will fall away, having proved themselves unreal or erroneous. They must no longer be appealed to. In their place theologically valid arguments must be used, and new aids which correspond to present realities.~0 Many modern spiritual men and women have grappled with the absence of such new arguments. They generously tried to rework an outdated theology of celibacy to correspond to the needs of today--with limited success. For example, much energy is going into showing that one's sexuality is not stunted by celibacy. This is done by making a distinction between the terms genital and sexual. This is a redefinition of categories according to which the word "genital" is applied to what was usually meant by the word "sexual," and then "sexual" in its broadest sense is taken to mean maleness or femaleness. Thus, modern reflection can say that the celibate is still a fully sexual being--but without genital expression. And so a nun could have a close relationship with a priest, and call it a "sexual" relationship-- 9Walter M. Abbott, gen. ed., The Documents of Vatican.H (Chicago: Follett Pub. Co., 1966), p. 566. ~°Sacramentum Mundi.p. 183. The Celibacy Experience / 665 but denying to it "genital" expression. This definition rightly admits that the celibate is not a neuter being but always remains truly male or female. And so at least it should help to keep celibates from attempting to become sexless angels. But however true the first step, saying "a celibate is still male or female," may be, the next statement, "a celibate is fully sexual but not genital," conveys mean-ings and values that are not as evidently proper. The latter statement blurs the important distini:tion there must be between male-female friendship and male-female romantic intimacy. Just as a married man may have female friends, a nun and priest may indeed be friends. But they may not have a romantic intimacy-- even if they do not engage in "genital" activity.~ The distinction between genital and sexual may do more harm than good if it becomes a permission to cross the line of prudence in relations between celibate men and women. Using the excuse that "our relationship is not genital" stems from a legalistic approach to celibacy which in turn endangers true friendship. In addition, any short-term benefits of the principle will be overshadowed by the further fact that it will only justify the kind of obsession with sexuality that is already present in the Church and in society. To focus on the sexuality of the celibate, in fact, obscures the true nature of celibate witness--which should be to point to the primacy of God's kingdom over passing, though good, temporal values. A better approach would distinguish between intimacy and celibacy more strictly. Modern thought in this area is trying to show that the celibate has the same opportunity for intimacy as the married person. This has become especially important in the light of the 1972 NORC study that found that the American priest in general is an "emotionally underdeveloped adult." This has been cause for alarm in the contemporary spiritual milieu which so closely associates spiritual development with human development. What is often forgotten, however, is that the study pointed out that this makes the priest "much like his fellow citizens on the scale of psychological growth" since the average American male also tested out as emotionally underdeveloped.~2 Nevertheless, this new area of reflection, the relationship between intimacy and celibacy, is also having very beneficial results. Celibacy cannot be used as an excuse for refusing to enter into deep human relationships, relationships that are often painful yet necessary for any human growth. Celibacy cannot be seen as representing an excessively other-worldly piety that shuns human affections as unworthy of a spiritual life. The 1971 Synod of Bishops recognized the importance of such human relations in the life of a celibate when it recommended "human balance through well-ordered integration into the fabric of social relationships: fraternal association and companionship with other priests and with the bishop."~3 ~See Paul Conner, "Friendship Between Consecrated Men and Women?" Review for Religious. Vol. 40 (Sept-Oct 1981), pp. 645-659. I:Ernest E. Larkin and Gerard T. Broccolo. eds., Spiritual Renewal of the American Priesthood (Wash. D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference. 1973), p. I. 666 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Pope Paul VI, in his letter, "Sacerdotalis Caelibatus, "likewise stressed the impor-tance of the celibate relations with the laity. In a moving section of his fatherly letter, Paul VI says: By their devoted and warm friendship [the laity] can be of great assistance to the Church's ministers since it is the laity . . . who are in a position, in many cases, to enlighten and encourage the priest . In this way the whole People of God will honor Christ. promising an assured reward to whoever in any way shows charity toward those whom he has sent (Mt 10:42).~4 In a similar way, the community of the individual religious must supply this same much-needed human warmth and intimacy. The 1980 Plenaria for the Sacred Congregation for Religious and for Secular Institutes stated that the religious community is itself a theological reality, and object of contemplation., it is of its nature the place where the experfence of God should be able to, in a special way, come to fullness and be communicated to others?5 There is no excessive supernaturalism here. The celibate is a person firmly planted on the earth and relating with others in a shared community life. Thus, this modern movement in spirituality which ties celibacy to human intimacy can make a positive but limited contribution to a new theology of celibacy, as well as to the humanity of celibates. But, like the distinction between genital and sexual, this attempt to show that the celibate can be as fully intimate as his married counterpart is not totally convincing. The approach may confuse as much as it helps--as, indeed, I think it has done. There is a qualitative difference between the human intimacy possible in a marriage and the :human intimacy permissible for a.celibate. Paul VI commented on this type of love: "And love, when it is genuine, is total, exclusive, stable and lasting."~6 A human marriage, in its final perfection, is such a close bond that "they are no longer two but one flesh" (Mr 19:6). For the celibate this is not permitted. A marriage relationship, if fully realized, has an exclusivity and a totality of self-giv'- ing which is just not available to the celibate. Indeed, if a celibate were to have such an exclusive relationship with another person, regardless of whether it was genital or not, he hardly could be considered celibate. The great witness of centuries of consecrated celibates must lead us to conclude that another kind of ultimate depth of intimacy is possible for a celibate. But our theology has not yet completely uncovered the depths of this celibate intimacy. Communion Is More Than Communication As the pro.blem of celibacy and intimacy and of other celibate issues continues ~31971 Synod of Bishops, The Ministerial Priesthood; Justice in the World (Wash. D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1972), p. 24. ~'~Pope Paul VI, Encyclical Letter on Priestly Celibacy--June 24, 1967 (Wash. D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference), p. 39. ~S"The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life," L'Osservatore Rornano, 26 January 1981, p. 14. ~6Paul VI, Encyclical Letter, p. 1 I. The Celibacy Experience / 667 to be discussed, the debate on the relevance of celibacy in the modern Church continues. This debate often swings between "lyrical panegyrics and one-sidedly negative criticism."~7 Part of the conservative faction believes that the priest must be celibate. No doubt such a vision of Church and faith would be shaken without a celibate priesthood, despite the tradition of the East. Thus, this position clings to such external forms for security--a need which is especially intense during the post-Vatican II upheavals in the Church. Some of the liberals, on the other hand, blame celibacy for destroying the humanity of priests and sisters--a fact which may have validity in a few cases but which glosses over the dynamic witness of a long history of celibacy within the Church. For example, one priest told me that if he ever started to "die" in the ministry he would get out. This is precisely the image some have of the pre-Vatican II Church. In their eyes, it was a church that so stressed an other-worldly piety that it killed the humanity of its people. This section of the liberal faction traces our celibate theology back to Greek philosophi-cal dualism which is said to dismiss worldly values and exalt spiritual ones: others trace celibacy back to Old Testament law which stated that sexual acts made one ritually impure. There are other ways theologians have accounted for our previous tradition of celibacy. The obvious way out is to maintain one's humanity through human intimacy. Seeing the emotional deadness and brokenness of some of their predecessors, many stress the importance of human'growth for spiritual development. Thus, the stress today is on celibate intimacy and communication. And there is a significant attempt within our religious houses to develop a community intimacy, often with good results. Certainly this is a good thing and should be continued. However, is community enough? Does it answer the heart of the problem? We communicate with others to achieve intimacy and wholeness. At times there is an almost compulsive need to lay ourselves bare in a search to maintain or recover our humanity. Admittedly, a certain amount of this is healthy and necessary for any human life, especially a celibate life. This mutual sharing, this intermediate level of intimacy will indeed help our humanity and thus our spirituality. But it is not the final answer, and it is becoming apparent that it is not enough for an authentic celibacy. Of itself, it does not lead to a mature celibacy. Psychiatrist Conrad Baars (who died last October) also believed there is too much communication and not enough communion. In his basic work, Feeling and Healing Your Emotions, he says: Interestingly. wherever members of a community--religious, prayer group, covenant--use the term [affirmation] most freely and glibly, there seems to be the least amount of true affirma-tion. Such places depress one with their bustling activity--planned togetherness, meetings. expected modes of behavior and participation, carefully scheduled recreation, etc, There seems little opportunity for just being--even less for being different or for wanting to be alone. Underneath the new freedom of behavior is often a hidden agenda of new co~7l'ormism . The sign of "new heart living" is communion; yet. there is still too much cornmunication to ~TSacramenturn Mundi. p. 181. 6611 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 permit communion and authentic being.~s This sort of excessive communication places a burden on friendships that such relationships should not, cannot carry. We are sharing more and more to satisfy the deepest Iongings of our heart, but in the final analysis we are in danger of silencing these longings with a mass of words and superficialities. In fact, such an approach is contrary to real humanity. To share everything easily actually reveals a lack of intimacy. The work of psychiatrist Viktor Frankl shows the nature of true intimacy: The quality of intimacy so characteristic of love is no less characteristic of religion. It is intimate in two senses: it is intimum in the sense of innermost, and second, it is, like love. protected by shame. Genuine religiousness, for the sake of its own genuineness, hides from the public . The mistake is often made of confounding such shame with neurotic inhibition. Shame. however, is a perfectly natural attitude.~'~ It is not normal nor is it healthy to share the deepest intimacies of love, or of faith, in a casual or even friendly way. To keep such things private, except from the most intimate of soul friends, or from one's spiritual director, is a normal and healthy action. It is a sign of true intimacy. Such an attitude maintains the sanctity of the human person. To violate this sanctity is a grievous affair. This violation would ultimately impair the growth of intimacy by destroying some of the conditions necessary for its growth, such as respect for the human person and the need for individual solitude. During a 1978 lecture to the Unione Internazionale dei Superiori Generali, Henri Nouwen commented on this close link between solitude and intimacy: Solitude leads us to a new intimacy with each other and makes us see our common task precisely because in solitude we discover our true nature, our true self, our true identity. That knowledge of who we really are allows us to live and work in community3o It is precisely this depth of intimacy which is the sign of a mature celibate and it is this depth which should enliven and nourish all the other relations a celibate has, just as the intimacy of marriage should ground and nourish the other relations a spouse has. Is Optional Celibacy the Answer? Optional celibacy seems to be emerging as the moderate position in the Church. For pastoral reasons, and in order to recognize cultural diversity, its concession may be required. This change would be theologically easy, given our present understanding of celibacy as distinct from, and not essential to, Orders. But this distinction, though affirmed in modern times, does not take fully into ISConrad Baars. Feeling and Healing Your Emotions (Plainfield, N.J.: Logos International, 1979), p. 221. ~gFrankl, Unconscious God, pp. 47, 46. 2°Henri J. M. Nouwen, "Solitude and Community," lecture presented to the Unione Internazionale dei Superiori Generali, 4 April 1978. p. 20. The Cefibacy Experience account the reality of the place of celibacy in the Latin Church. With the rise of historical and existential theologies, we are coming to a fuller understanding of the place of the whole human person in our theologizing. Thus, while celibacy is only a canonical duty, it figures as an important element in our "collective memory," or our "story," or again, our western Catholic "identity." Concepts that are appearing in the new theology should make us more hesitant to favor optional celibacy too quickly. Celibacy is more than just a discipline. Rather, it has been woven into our history and thus into our collective memories. In the midst of a Church already suffering a severe identity crisis, the impact of optional celibacy on our "story" should be carefully considered. In addition, a case could be made that in no time of history is celibacy more necessary than today. At first glance the statement seems absurd, but when placed into the total context of the times, when one observes the signs of the times, it gains in its appearance of truth. As stated earlier, our people are under a sexual siege by advertisers, movies, TV and other elements of society. In an age when people are trying harder and harder to become liberated from Christian sexual mores, we are becoming more and more enslaved to sex. Such is precisely the nature of sin and evil. It promises the opposite of what it gives. Our society has promised sexual liberation and has produced just the opposite. The value of celibacy as a sign that shows the relative value (while not negating its intrinsic goodness) of sex is never more needed. Also, given the unity of all in the Mystical Body of Christ, it has likewise been never more important for a few to persevere in the struggle against sexual license in a heroic way for its spiritual aid to all people who are struggling with sexual difficulties within their own vocations. Paul speaks of this union of all in Christ when he says to the Corinthians: "If one member suffers, all the members suffer with it; if one member is honored, all the members share its joy" (I Co 12:26). Nonetheless, the pressure is on the Vatican for optional celibacy. While such a compromise may be necessary, I doubt that it will truly alleviate the problem. (Perhaps rather than making celibacy optional, it would be more to the point for the Vatican to announce that marriage is mandatory for all priests and religious! Then when a select few would flee to the mountains and the deserts, there to listen more intently to the "still, small voice," and thus refuse to marry, these are the ones who should be ordained.) Compromise, while often necessary, can fall into tepid-ity, failing to see that, for the celibate, the Christian message is nothing if not radical. "I am Come to cast fire on the earth and what will 1 but that it be kindled" (Lk 12:49), or again, "But because you are lukewarm, neither hot nor cold, I will spew you out of my mouth" (Rv 3:16). Without such a radical, total commitment, there is no deep intimacy--for the celibate as well as for the married person. Deepest Intimacy Is in Mystery This intimacy is completed only in the deepest levels of the person. This depth is beyond the spoken word; it is beyond verbal communication. It can only be 670 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 called mystery--a mystery which marvelously opens itself up in the communion of love. Thus the depths of intimacy are experienced as mystery, and as love, for both the celibate as well as the married person. This is the deepest level of personal growth and the truest level of self-knowledge. Some commentators on this deepest level of the person have cited the efforts of Nietzsche. They say that Nietzsche saw this great depth which he called "nothing-ness" and yet he was a courageous man to continue to face his "nothingness" and carry on bravely. This may be courage but it also may be a disguised fear--a fear to really experience this "nothingness" or depth of mystery. Nietzsche stood at the brink of the ocean of mystery and summoned the courage to remain there and look. The Christian is called to go one step further--to dive in! Viktor Frankl put forth a similar idea using the image of a summit surrounded by fog: On his way to find the ultimate meaning of life, the irreligious man, as it were, has not yet reached the highest peak, but rather has stopped at the next to highest . And what is the reason the irreligious man does not go further? It is because he does not want to lose the "firm ground under his feet." The true summit is barred from his vision: it is hidden in the fog. and he does not risk venturing into it, into this uncertainty. Only the religious man hazards it.2~ This depth, this "diving into the ocean" or "climbing through the fog to the highest peak" is open to a married couple united in faith. Such an unspoken depth to their relationship allows the mystery of one to be opened and joined to the mystery of the other, the ocean of one to the ocean of the other. This mystery therefore cannot be opened by the effort of one; it requires two to open it. Love requires union, and this deepest mystery is a union of love. At first glance, this would seem to exclude the celibate because the necessary love is, recalling the words of Paul VI, "total, exclusive, stable and lasting." This love seems denied the celibate who has no partner! Within such a quandary, our theology of celibacy is too often opaque, making little sense to the modern person. We could foist the problem onto "grace," and thus expect a solution from some magical power to hold our humanity in abeyance until the end-times. But this would be a denial of the real nature of the Christian message and a misunderstand-ing of the true nature of grace. Christianity is not essentially a negative religion. If it denies, it does so only to affirm in a more profound way. If God asks for any sacrifice, it is only to return the gift a hundred-fold. And, it seems to me, this is the problem with which modern thought on celibacy must deal--a problem that is especially difficult to solve if we use the growth model of spirituality. Celibacy and Theological Distancing To this point, we have merely opened up several problems in our theologies of celibacy. There seems to be a real difficulty in relating the depths of intimacy and celibacy, despite some modern attempts to do so. The older approaches with their 2~Frankl, Unconscious God. pp. 55-56. The Cefibacy Experience / 671 reliance on grace threaten to skip over our true humanity. What is perhaps lacking in both approaches, what may be largely responsible for the crisis in celibacy today, is a proper starting point. An accumulation of theologizing and reflection has developed an elaborate theological understanding of celibacy, but may have lost contact with its simple yet radical starting point. Paul Ricoeur's warning of cultural distancing may apply to our case: Cultural distance is not only the altering of the vehicle, but also the forgetting of the radical question conveyed by the language of another time. It is necessary to undertake, therefore, a struggle against the.forgetting of the question, that is. a struggle against our own alienation in relation to what operates in the question?2 We may, indeed, have forgotten the "radical question" which underlies the very existence of celibacy. This question must come as an existential question which demands a radical human response. The existential question involves an expe-rience that gives rise to the unusual phenomenon of celibacy. This experience I call the celibacy experience. Theological reflection can help make this experience understandable. It can explain its fruits and it can even help prepare someone for it. But theological reflection cannot impart the experience itself. Celibacy must spring from an expe-rience which begets a radical and total response. In the experience, a radical question is asked, and a radical answer must be given--though the response will have to grow in actualization with time. What we need is an existential model of celibacy, one that starts with human experience. This model must be able to address the concepts of intimacy and humanity in a convincing way. These concepts, though, can only be understood when viewed in the light of the beginning section of this article, when we wrote of mysticism, the internalization of celibacy, and higher psychic functions. An,"Existential Scriptural Approach To find such an existential approach, it is necessary to cut through centuries of cultural and theological distancing and return to Scripture. But our approach should not be to use Scripture. in the usual way of the conventional theologies of celibacy. In these approaches, citations are made of such Pauline passages as: The virgin--indeed any unmarried woman--is concerned with things of the Lord. in pursuit of holiness in body and spirit. The married woman, on the other hand, has the cares of this world to absorb her. , (I Co 7:34). Or again, To those not married and to widows, I have this to say: h would be well if they remain as they are. even as I do myself: but if they cannot exercise self-control, they should marry (I Co 7:8-9). These and other such passages, though, are not the celibacy experience itself, a-'Paul Ricoeur, "The Language of Faith," in Charles Reagan and David Steward, eds. The Philosophy of Paul Ricoeur (Boston: Beacon Press, 1978), p. 224. 672 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 but only reflections on the experience. It is the mystical encounter with God in Christ that results in these inspired theological reflections. Paul's embrace of the life of consecrated celibacy stemmed primarily from his encounter with Christ. He refers to his own celibacy experience: Am I not free? Am I not an apostle? Have I not seen Jesus our Lord? And are you not my work in the Lord? (1 Co 9:1). To the community at Corinth, Paul claims a direct vision of Jesus which grounds his apostolate; it drives him almost compulsively: Yet preaching the gospel is not the subject of a boast; I am under compulsion and have no choice. 1 am ruined if I do not preach it! (I Co 9:16; see 2 Co 5:14). This experience of Paul was not really one experience, but many: "I must go on boasting, however useless it may be, and speak of visions and revelations" (2 Co 12:!). It is only in the light of such experiences that Paul's celibacy makes any sense. He saw everything else as being of secondary importance compared to his being "grasped by Christ" (Ph 3:i2). Paul says, even more forcefully, "1 have come to rate all as loss in the light of the surpassing knowledge of my Lord Jesus Christ" (Ph 3:8). And it is precisely in this light that Paul recommends celibacy as being a way to devote oneself fully to the things of the Lord--just as it was for him. The authority and very existence of his apostolate depended on these experiences, and they became such a driving force in his life that celibacy was a result of it. Traditional celibacy-literature also quotes a passage from the Gospel of Matthew: Some men are incapable of sexual activity from birth: some have been deliberately made so; and some there are who have freely renounced sex for the sake of God's reign. Let him accept this teaching who can (19:12). This teaching, which supplies the theory to Paul's practice, focuses on celibacy "for the sake of God's reign." Notice again that there is no attempt to show that one should be celibate because Christ was, or that celibacy reflects the marriage of Christ with the Church, or even that celibacy is good because one is more effective for ministry. These are all later theological reflections, no matter how true they may be. They do not ground anyone's celibacy. The),' are not the celibacy expe-rience. Rather, as the Matthean Gospel points out, marriage is renounced "for the sake of God's reign." The passage implies that there is a direct experience of the reign of God. Otherwise, it would be impossible to dedicate oneself to it. In fact, the reign of God became a direct reality in the lives of many of those early Christians, enough of a reality to cause them to renounce a fundamental of human life--marriage. This, then was a powerful experience. This in-breaking of the reign of God is an eschatological experience. It is an in-breaking of the eschaton, or last times, into people's lives. Paul's experience was also truly an eschatological one since in his vision he saw the risen Christ who is himself the Reign of God. This is precisely what a mystical experience is, although it can take many different forms. It is an in-breaking of the eschaton, the reign of The Celibacy Experience / 673 God, the risen Christ into people's lives. There is no mysticism without eschat-ology-- an eschatology that proclaims that the kingdom is already present among us, though in a hidden way. Eschatological Fervor And such an eschatological, mystical experience totally changes one's life. It creates such a powerful force and conversion that it can make one cry out, as it did with Paul, "I am ruined if 1 do not preach [the Gospel]." With this conversion comes a new vision--a mystical vision. This experience gives rise to an eschatolog-ical fervor which makes it easy to believe that the end is at hand. Such was often the case with the prophets who, upon experiencing the greatness of God, saw the depths to which God's creation had fallen, and they cried out for repentance, claiming that God's just punishment was near. In the book of Isaiah, for example, the prophet has a vision of the temple of the Lord. He is overwhelmed with the holiness and power of God while the seraphim cry out, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts. ! All the earth is filled with his glory!" (6:3). Isaiah immediately felt his own sinfulness in the face of such holiness: "Woe is me, I am doomed! For 1 am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips"(6:5), lsaiah's new vision of the holiness of God and the sinfulness of the people leads to his message of the imminent destruction of Israel by God: "lf there be still a tenth part in it, then this in turn shall be laid waste" (6:13). It was in this same eschatological fervor that Paul believed the kingdom of God to be an imminent reality: I tell you. brothers, the time is short. From now on those with wives should live as though they had none: those who weep should live as though they were not rejoicing: buyers should conduct themselves as though they owned nothing, and those who make use of the world as though they were not using it. for the world as we know it is passing away (I Co 7:29-3 I). This eschatological fervor was the result of Paul's experience of the risen Christ. This was a mystical experience which resulted in a new vision of life, a mystical vision. However, it is obvious to us, and even Paul came to understand, that the time is not short. Two thousand years have passed and Christ has still not come in his glory. But to take this approach, that is, to discount the fervor of the early Christians because their belief in the imminence of the second coming proved to be wrong, is to miss the significance of their times, and the truth of their experience. The early Christians experienced the reign of God breaking into their lives. They were baptized in the Spirit and such a baptism was at times a mystical experience which produced this eschatological fervor. As it is recorded in the Acts of the Apostles: The Holy Spirit came upon [the Gentiles]. just as it had upon us at the beginning. Then I remembered what the Lord had said: "John baptized with water but you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit" II 1:15-16). They may have misinterpreted this mystical vision, this new perception of reality: they may have believed that Christ was coming soon. But this is often the case with intense mystical experiences. St. John of the Cross spoke of these 674 / Review for Religious. Sept.-Oct., 1982 dangers with extraordinary mystical experiences; they are often interpreted on too concrete a level, when they are intended for a higher, more spiritual plane. Perhaps this was the case with the early Christians. They experienced the closeness of Christ and his kingdom. The words of Jesus were passed along to them which pointed to his coming, and they may have interpreted such signs literally. Regardless of the reason for their mistaken view of the second coming, we should not dismiss their eschatological fervor because of it. This fervor is the proper response, just as it was for Amos: The lion roars who will not be afraid: the Lord God speaks who will not prophesy? (Am 3:8). It was this fervor that contained within it the phenomenon of celibacy. Without this experience, celibacy makes little sense. Later theological reflection can try to explain the celibate state, as Paul tried to do, but it cannot recreate the experience itself. But what happens when the fervor wears off'? Paul began to realize that he, too, might die before Christ comes again. The initial celibacy experience that gave rise to the fervor for the reign of God and caused the early Christians to renounce marriage can fade as the years wear on. What does the modern mistress of novices do with her charges once the initial fervor of vocation begins to wane, as it always does? It is then that moderns begin to wonder about their humanity. Will celibacy kill it? The earlier mystical vision fades, and the reality of celibacy as a loneliness without spouse, sex and family presses on the celibate. The stress on intimacy today makes it even more difficult, and there are plenty of TV shows and adver-tisements to remind the celibate of what he is missing. Celibate Intimacy With Christ This initial fervor must be followed by a desert experience, an absence of fervor, as mystical theology points out. But it is precisely within this period of dryness that the mystical vision is secretly growing. It is then that youthful fervor must yield to a new experience that reaches deeper into the person. This new experience is reflected best in the Gospel of John, "the disciple whom Jesus loved": A third time Jesus asked him, "Simon. son of John, do you love me?" Peter was hurt because he had asked a third time, "Do you love me?" So he said to him: "Lord, you know everything. You know well that I love you." Jesus said to him, "Feed my sheep" (21:17). In these spiritual reflections of John's Gospel do we see hinted at a deeper intimacy with Christ. The servant, and friend becomes lover and beloved. Thus we see introduced a new element: the love of Christ. The compulsion to preach is giving way to a deeper relationship with Christ, a relationship of love. The ground of Peter's ministry is this love of Christ. The early eschatological fervor has to give way to this intimate love of Christ, The Celibacy Experience / 675 and this is only possible because Jesus first offers his love. When he asks Peter if he loves him, iris implied that Jesus is first offering his love, and is asking if Peter will respond. Such is the existential approach of Scripture: God offers through Christ, and we must respond. Peter did respond, to the fullest extent. He had exclaimed to Jesus: "We have put aside everything to follow ~,ou!" To this Jesus replied: I give you my word, there is no one who has given up home, brothers or sisters, mother or father, children or property for me and for the gospel who will not receive in this present age a .,hundred times as many homes, brothers and sisters, mothers, children and property--and persecution besides--and in the age to come, everlasting life (Mk 10:28-30). This earlier response of youthful fervor should grow into a mature love. "Although you have never seen him, you love him" (1 P 1:8). Such an unseen love, then, is directly connected with faith. There can be no love of an unseen object unless faith prepares the way. It is the youthful fervor and the later desert expe-riences which produce a faith strong enough to support such a love. It is a faith offer and response of love. This does not make the offer and response, nor the love, any less real. The reign of God has come among us. Christ is still offering the love of God in a real though hidden way. The radical question which underlies the mature celibate experience is still being asked: "Do you love me?" This is real grace--not magical grace. God, in Christ, offering himself to the world--Person to person. Grace is the theological concept which denotes this real exchange within human history. If, as Paul VI said, there must be "a wise sublimation of the psychological life on a higher plane," it is because our sublimation and needs will be met within human history; God's kingdom has come!23 Though we cannot see the object of our exchange, this exchange is nonetheless real. Such is the nature of a faith-love. It is only within such a faith-love context that we can understand the true nature of celibate intimacy. In this offer and response with Christ, the celibate should eventually come to experience, either explicitly or implicitly, the deepest level of love and intimacy, recalling, the words of Paul VI: "Love, when it is genuine, is total, exclusive, stable and lasting." The mature celibate, the one who has internalized his call, has come to respond in this total and exclusive way to Christ. Such is the total self-gift in a marriage; such, too, is the total self-gift in the intimacy of the celibate. It is no accident, then, that later mystical theology came to describe such a relationship as a "spiritual marriage." It is a relationship~ which includes the deepest union. Yet this total and exclusive intimacy between the celibate and Christ does not exclude other relationships. In fact, it depends on other human relationships to make it possible. At the same time, celibate intimacy provides the possibility for the full fruition of these other relationships. However, one cannot completely identify one's intimacy with Christ, with the intimacy one has with others. And without a real intimacy with Christ, these other relationships tend to become 2~Paul VI, Encyclical Letter, p. 22. 676 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 warped, possessive and destructive. Such an intimacy grows out of the celibate experience. It is not something that is once and for all, but a chain of real encounters that renew and strengthen the individual's original response to the radical question, "Do you love me?" The original, novitiate, eschatological fervor is transformed and strengthened in the desert. Fervor is exchanged for love, and the compulsion to preach is exchanged for peace. The celibate experience is, then, a growing life-experience in and with Christ. It is not necessarily a "Mystical" (big "M") experience, some kind of extraordinary revelation--such as those of Paul who saw the face of Christ. Rather, the celibate experience is a "mystical" (small "m") experience. It is a direct encounter with Christ in which the radical question of love is asked, but it is an encounter that is hidden within the ordinary. McNamara sees that this immediacy of mysticism is nonetheless mediated: It is God whom mystical knowledge perceives immediately and experientially in the historic revelation of Christ~ the sacramental life, and the ecclesiastical organism. It is not contradic-tory to unite indissolubly the immediacy of mystical knowledge to all the Christian mediations.24 Thus the celibate in today's world must be a mystic but not necessarily a Mystic. This mystical relationship, of course, remains beyond words; it is beyond clear, verbal definitions. In it the mystery of God touches the mystery of the human person, and in this touch, the depths of the human person are opened, and he attains to a vision of reality that is mystical. Do You Love Me? It is this experience and the resulting vision which ground the celibate's aposto-late. The celibacy experience, which eventually grows into a total response to the radical question, "Do you love me?" provides the charter and gives life to his or her ministry. Without this growing intimacy with Christ, the celibate's ministry is without an anchor and will drift with every theological and psychological breeze that comes along. Again, McNamara has an excellent insight: People are fed and sustained by a mystical theology; they are amused and confused by any other. Yet they are being led thoughtlessly from one vogue to another. It's so tempting to be faddish, accommodating; to leave our solitary, silent stance before the source of wisdom and become washed out in the 'sauce~ of endless meetings, parties~ dialogues, lectures, conventions.2~ Without a mystical vision the celibate is unlikely to remain celibate for long. Any ministry without a mystical vision is liable only to "amuse and confuse" the people. The people thirst for Christ. It is the authentic Christ they need, yet the temptation is always to grasp false messiahs, even though with the best of inten- 2'~McNamara, Christian Mysticism, p. 16. ~lbid., p. 24. The Celibacy Experience / 677 tions. Mother Teresa wrote a note that said: "Pray for me that 1 do not loosen my grip on the hand of Jesus, even under the guise of ministering to the poor.''~6 Even such a great ministry as serving the poor can become a false messiah without an intimate relationship with Christ. The time has come for Catholic celibates to renew their primary identity as Christians. It is only in a life centered on Christ that true celibate intimacy is realized. It is only thus that liberals, conservatives and moderates can become what the Gospel calls for--radical lovers. And without a radical response to the love of Christ there is no mysticism, and thus no internalized celibacy. The way is not easy. Though the kingdom has already come into the world, it remains hidden. The eschaton is not fully realized in human history. A celibate's relationship with Christ will reflect this incompleteness during this life. Just as "all creation groans and is in agony even until now" (Rm 8:22), the celibate's life must also have many moments of groaning, and a longing for the final fulfillment of God's kingdom. The call of Christ is again sweeping the world: "Do you love me?" Fewer are left: fewer are responding. But there are enough. There is enough leaven for the entire lump of dough to rise. And for the remnant that is left: No more shall men call you ~For~ken," or your land "Desolate," But you shall be called "My Delight." and your land "Espoused.". As a young man marries a virgin, your Builder shall marry you: and as a bridegroom rejoices in his bride so shall your God rejoice in you (Is 62:4-5). -'~'Phyllis Theroux. "'Amazing Grace: Mother Teresa Comes to Calcutta." Washhzgton Post Magazine, 18 October 1981. p. 30. Preparing for the 1983 Synod Stephen Tutas, S.M. In explaining his point in writing this article, Fr. Tutas states: "As a member of the 1980 Synod, I am well aware that the success of the General Assembly depends to a great extent on how well participants reflect the mind of the Church throughout the world." This article simply draws attention to the ~'neamenta published by the General Secretariate of the Synod. Father Tutas, Superior General of the Society of Mary (Marianists) 1971-1981, is presently Director of the Marianist Formation Center; P.O. Box AC; Cupertino, CA 95015. Immediately after the 1980 Synod of Bishops, preparation began for the 1983 Synod. After a lengthy process of consultation, Pope John Paul II designated "Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church" as the theme for the Sixth General Assembly of the Synod of Bishops which will be held in 1983. The General Secretariate of the Synod then prepared an initial presentation of the theme and sent this to the National Conferences of Bishops for their personal study. This first document is a fifty-four page study in the English edition pub-lished by the Vatican Polyglot Press this past January. The purpose of the docu-ment is "to stimulate reflection in the local churches, to receive information, advice and useful suggestions for the future synodal discussion; to provoke, as soon as possible, a movement of spirits and of prayer which disposes souls to the metanoia which is at the root of the synodal theme." For all these reasons it is very important for religious to take an active interest in the coming synod. It is interesting to note that the General Secretariate is encouraging wide consultation by stating that the publication of this first document "is without limits and not reserved." After analyzing the feedback from this first document, the General Secretariate will later issue a more extensive working paper. As religious we cannot afford to be passive as the preparation for the 1983 Synod moves forward. While the members of the synod have the responsibility of reflecting the mind of the Church throughout the world as they participate in the synod, the rest of us have the responsibility to study the theme of the synod as 678 Preparing for the 1983 Synod thoroughly as we can so that we can be well prepared to enter into the movement promoted by its celebration. Accordingly, in the hope of stimulating further reflection in preparation for the 1983 Synod, I would like to offer some thoughts about the theme that are prompt-ed by my personal study of the initial document. The theme of Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church was selected from among many topics suggested for the Sixth General Assembly. Towards the close of the 1980 Synod there was a brief.discussion about possible themes for the 1983 sessions. Among the issues mentioned at that time was the Sacrament of Penance. After further consultation, this particular theme was even-tually developed into the much more comprehensive topic that is outlined in this document issued by the General Secretariate. As presented, the theme touches many other topics that had also been proposed as possible themes, such as youth, the Christian laity, the identity of the Church following the changes effected by Vatican I1, the evaluation of liturgicalrenewal, popular piety, spirituality, Catholic education, the training of priests, the role of bishops in the Church, ecclesiology, the future. The study of Reconciliation and Penance in the Mission of the Church can also be viewed in relation to previous synods--especially justice in the world, evangelization in the modern world and catechetics, and of course, it has many implications for the mission of the Christian family in the modern world. The theme echoes many of the concerns expressed in pontifical documents of recent years. Among these, it is significant to recall Pope Paul VI's statement for the World Day of Peace, 1975: "Reconciliation, the Way to PeAce." The synod study is also related to the encyclical letter of Pope John Paul II, "On the Mercy of God" that was published shortly after the last synod. What I find especially attractive about the coming synod is that it is being ¯ presented as a development of the great themes of the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World. Throughout the synoddocument there are remind-ers that this topic is not to be considered solely in terms of baptized Catholics, but that it is a topic of great importance "for all who seek meaning to existence." This theme is of great importance for the quality of the Christian life; it is also meaning-ful for the world in general. I found the intent of the initial document to speak a message of hope to the modern world very heartening. There is no denial of the injustice in the world today and in the hearts of so many people. The section describing this is particu-larly well expressed. The document speaks of the reality of today's world in contrast to our understanding of God's plan for us and our own response to this plan in our efforts to build a better world. Given the wars, violence, terrorism of our time, the conclusion is that the dominant characteristic of our era seems to have become that of tensions and divisions. It would be quite easy to give in to the feelings of helplessness in the face of the complexity of the problems facing us today. But it is quite clear from the document that the great expectation is that the synod itself will speak a message of hope to the Church and to the world. 61~1~ / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 Much of the theme deals with the basic human need for personal reconciliation with God, with each other, and with ourselves. But what impressed me above all was the emphasis given to the promotion of justice and peace in the world through the call to reconciliation and penance. The document suggests that the synod face the complex reality of tensions and divisions in the world today with confiderlce that there is an answer. We Christians cannot lose hope. In recognizing that the Church is the sacrament of reconciliation, the Church has a new understanding of its pastoral mission in the modern world. 1 am also intrigued by the proposed study of the meaning of change in our lives. The word penance used in the synod document is meant to include the meaning of repentance, understood as conversion. The synod topic offers us an opportunity to focus on the change of mind and heart that Vatican II called for, and on the continual change to which we are called as Christians. The appeal to conversion understood as a change of direction, return, practical change in the way of living, interior change of mentality, metanoia, is clearly and forcefully pre-sented. The Church is seen as "holy and formed of sinners," holy, but always in need of being purified, incessantly pursuing the path of penance and renewal. The message of hope that Christians are called to proclaim in today's world is God's love for his people. It is God who forgives and liberates in order to reconcile all men and women to himself, with each other, with all creation. The dream of a new creation is once again proclaimed, a new creation where there is interior unity and true liberty, where there is a new relationship with other men and women, a new human community founded on justice, a new sense of God living and working in history. The General Secretariate of the Synod, in publishing this first document in preparation for the 1983 Synod, insists that the statements made are "provisional in character and limited and thus it would be useless to make a critique of them or to attempt to perfect the text." But it is an invaluable starting point for all of us as we prepare for the 1983 Synod. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions--II Patricia Spillane, M.S. C Our last issue carried the first part of this article. In the current issue, Sister Patricia concludes her study of the process of internalization. Sh'e continues to reside at the convent of the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart: 428 St. James Place: Chicago; IL 60614. ~n Part I of this article, we considered how to live more authentically the life we proclaim: i.e., how can our constitutions be planted deep within us, written on our hearts (see Jr 3 !:33)? We reflected on our attitudes toward these constitutions, and on ourselves as the source of attitudinal decisions--spiritually, philosophically, psychologically. If nothing else, by now we should have arrived at an appreciation for the complexity of the problem: that arriving at a true internalization of what is written calls indeed for foundations of rock, and that much labor and struggle are required to build over that! Everyone who comes to me and listens to my words and acts on them., is like the man who, when he built his house, dug, and dug deep, and laid the foundations on rock: when the river was in flood, it bore down on that house but could not shake it, it was so well built (Lk 6:47-49). In the following pages, I will try to indicate some directions which could aid in this foundation-setting for interiorization within religious communities. Of their nature, such foundations are conceptual and theoretical, the underpinnings from which must proceed programs of action once the principles have been clarified. Such foundations need to reflect adequately our reality, a reality that is at one and the same time spiritual, anthropological and psychological. Efforts at internaliza-tion will be hampered without such an integration. Premises already exist in each of these areas since Christianity has been propos-ing such principles for centuries. Respective constitutions incorporate these and give them a unique flavor. 681 61~2 / Review for Religious, Sept.-Oct., 1982 But we each have our own concepts of, and attitudes toward theology, philo-sophy and psychology, both conscious and unconscious. We need to examine our own assumptions in these areas to see how they contrast with what we are called to. Furthermore, with clear premises and principles we can better grasp still further implications: where do we go from here? We can move more securely from the theoretical to the concrete, both individually and collectively, without haphazard experimentation and without facile reaching for faddist solutions. A. Theological Foundations The very word foundation conjures up something solid, firm, lasting, not the ephemeral, fantastic, passing. It is obvious that any theological foundation for the internalization of Christian living must have indeed "Christ Jesus himself for its main cornerstone" (Ep 2:20), the Christ of revelation and of the gospels, as pro-claimed by the Church. What is needed is a theology that integrates both the transcendent and the incarnational, both vertical and horizontal dimensions, both interior life and exterior action. Consequently, we are talking about a Christologi-cal, ecclesial foundation of objective, revealed values that are both normative and attractive, values that can propose objective and inspiring criteria with which we can collectively and individually evaluate and challenge ourselves. Our vision of God must begin with the God of revelation and Scripture, as authentically reflected to us down through the ages by the Church and sacred tradition. Equally essential to this theological vision is its concept of our humanity called to a unique relationship with our Creator as the peak of creation, elevated to unimaginable new possibilities in Christ, yet withal vulnerable and capable of betraying our Creator and Savior. Called to respond, we are still" free to say "no." Therefore, the triplet of grace, sin and concupiscence can never be overlooked (more will be said along this line in the anthropological section below). Such a theology will see the spiritual life as the arena of interaction between nature and grace, the call to personal and enduring transcendence in the name of Christ that begins with baptism and reaches its fulfillment in the Beatific Vision. Such free cooperation with grace is at one and the same time the highest activity to which we are called, that which makes us most truly human and that which ultimately brings us true self-fulfillment as a result of our self-transcendence. However, we do not incarnate such principles in a vacuum. We live in a world of increasing theological pluralism, of the rapid dissemination and impassioned defense of new ideologies--in short, in a world of theological ferment where discernment, critical thinking, and a clear vision of the fundamentals are more essential than ever. As Christians and religious, we must be able to sift and see in what way our, theological thinking may have been infiltrated by certain current trends which can bias and distort the foundation for our attitudinal decision. Discerning Theological ,Trends A group of Christian theologians (including Avery Dulles, S.J.) from nine denominations engaged themselves in precisely this kind of sifting a few years ago From Tablet to Heart in Hartford, Connecticut, resulting in the clarification and designation of thirteen pervasive ideas which they considered to be "false and debilitating."t 1 have grouped some of these into three areas so that it will be apparent how an ade-quately integrated theological foundation implies a counter-cultural stance that is in opposition to each of them. I. Religious language refers to human experience and nothing else, God being humanity's noblest creation . Jesus can only be understoo~l in terms of contemporary models of humanity . An emphasis on God's transcendence is at least a hindrance to, and perhaps incompatible with, Christian social concern and action. Here is clearly seen the polarization of a theology of the supernatural with the theology of secular humanism. According to the latter, "man and world have in themselves an ultimate value'~--a prime example of Frankl's objec!ification of persons and subjectification of values mentioned in Part 1, with the result that we must become our own source of meaning, and evaluate ourselves by subjective criteria. This subjectivism, in turn, gives rise to experientialism: lacking objective guidelines, we can only use our emotions to ratify our experience. God's existence is inferred from subjective religious experience. That which should be effect becomes, instead, the cause of belief and the fountainhead of religion. Von Bal-thazar's comments are appropriate here: It is not that man has to have an experience of God: it is more that God

Issue 69.4 of the Review for Religious, 2010. ; Holy Models Religious Growth Lighting the Way QUARTERLY 69.4 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-Mail: 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 internfil use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits oudined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this pernfission 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 Catholic ~piri~uali~y eview for religious Editor Book Review Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Rosemary Jermann 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 69.4 2010 contents 340 prisms Prisms 342 357 holy models The Spirituality of Francis Libermann: A Man Beyond His Time David L. Smith CSSP presents the embodied spirit of Francis Libermann's spirituality, underlining many instances of how his thought and action is very contemporary. The Love Mysticism of Bernard of Clairvaux and Julian of Norwich Marian Maskulak CPS shows how Bernard and Julian provide valuable material to ponder for contemporary readers who wish to explore the relationship of love between God and human beings. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion 377 religious growth Cultivating Mature Relationships in Religious Formation Chinyeaka C. Ezeani MSHR outlines how religious formao tors can model mature interpersonal relationships and respectful ways of communications that can better prepare candidates for a Christlike way of living and relating. Review for Religious 390 Operatic Discernment of a Vocation Daniel J. Heisey OSB suggests that opera, especially Gian Carlo Menotti's The Saint of Bleecker Street and Amahl and the Night Visitors, can help someone discern a religious vocation. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion 4O5 42O lighting the way Searching for Jesus at Christmas James H. Kroeger MM treats the nature and purpose of the Gospels, the role of the evangelists, questions of the "historical Jesus," the infancy narratives, and the need for an "adult" faith. Edith Stein, Woman of Light Carolyn Humphreys~ OCDS demonstrates that the themes most apparen.t throughout Edith Stein's life are her integrity, her search for truth, and her complete trust in God. departments 434 Scripture Scope: Meeting the Prophet Isaiah Again for the First Time 439 Book Reviews 444 2010 Indexes 69.4 2010 prisms 340] I seems appropriate in this final issue of Volume 69 that I acknowledge and pay tribute to Father Philip Fischer SJ who has served this journal for some twenty years. Father Fischer died quickly after being diagnosed with liver cancer just as we were sending the previous issue to the printer. For the staff and for me personally his death has left us with an aching loss as a companion in the workplace and a notable hole in our edito-rial process. Philip Fischer had amazing editorial skills. He was the one that I depended on for doing the first edits on all our manuscripts. He took real care in preserving a writer's style and expression while trying to bring a better clarity and a sharpening conciseness in eliminating repetitions. He double-checked all references, sometimes correcting misinformation and at other times adding the proper data. He made our various writers look good', and I say this from my own experience since he made me in my own writing look better than I ever would have through my original draft. In these latter years, Father Fischer made his own special contribution to our journal through his review of books summed up in what he ritled "book shelf life." From all the various books that we receive from the publishing houses, Father Fischer would quickly scan through each Review for Religious book, take notes on a number of them, and then begin to group books into similar themes or subject-matter. Within the weeks more immediate to our publishing schedule, he would construct his own essay on some twenty-five to thirty-five books, relating them in their strengths, referencing occasionally previous works, and adding sometimes his own personal preferences. Over the years, many people have taken the time to express their appreciation of his efforts in book reviews. Philip Fischer died shortly before his eightieth birth-day. He would have been celebrating his sixtieth year as a Jesuit. He was a quiet and unassuming man with great intellectual gifts. He generously offered his services as advisor and editor to many foreign Jesuits studying at Saint Louis University in their writing of class essays and term papers. He also was consulted by a good number of people writing books. He seemed to put no restrictions on the time he would spend in helping others beyond his own editorial responsibilities. Over the past twenty years, Father Philip Fischer has brought the Review for Religious to the kind of excellence in style and correctness that our readers have come to expect. In expressing our own debt of gratitude to him, I and the rest of the staff will do our best to continue the legacy which he has left us. Please join us in our own continuing prayers, that Father Philip Fischer, a wordsmith, can be enjoying companionship with the Word forever. David L. Fleming SJ P.S. Review for Religious staff and advisory board wish all our readers a most blessed Advent season and Christmas season. 341 69.4 2010 DAVID L. SMITH personal witness The Spirituality of Francis Libermann: A Man Beyond His Time ¯ . . the Holy Ghost over the bent World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings. --Gerard Manley Hopkins Since the mid 19th century, Francis Libermann's spiritual teachings have inspired the Congregation of the Holy Spirit. To appre-ciate his unique spiritual doctrine fully, one must know about the congregation's original cradle. Born the son of the Rabbi of Saverne and reared in the study of Torah, the Law, and the Talmud, Libermann was immunized against the philosophical anthropology of his day, the dichotomized worldview of Ren~ Descartes. David L. Smith cssP has taught for thirty-five years in Duquesne University's department of psychology and has also been executive director of its Phenomenology Center. His address is Duquesne University; 600 Forbes Avenue; Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 15282. Review for Religious His philosophy had tainted Western thought-categories since the early 17th century. Under the pervasive influ-ence of this philosophy, all things spiritual--mind, soul, and spirit--had become disembodied. The separation of mind and body, spirit and matter, natural and super-natural, and secular and sacred became the coin of the religious and spiritual realms. In many ways, human spirituality had turned into an angelic perfectionism. Libermann in large part escaped this pernicious Cartesian influence, thanks to his early education. Under his father's tutelage, he would have learned that . the Hebrew language had no word for body, the human body. The closest Hebrew word is basar, sometimes trans-lated as body, but its essential meaning .is flesh. Robinson informs us that in the ancient Hebrew worldview the flesh-body did not make us separate individuals, but rather connected us in a web or tissue of life to all other human beings. This flesh-body--this animated flesh--is the total human being and the basis for our corporate identity, our solidarity with one another, and especially our common bonding with God. Robinson emphasizes that the ancient Hebrews were interested, not in the body for its own sake, but in its vertical dimension, in that the flesh-body binds us together and binds us Godward. Basar, our animated human flesh, emphasizes our coexistence with others, our bodily To understand Libermann's uniquely existential and incarnational spirituality, we must keep this Hebrew meaning of the human body in mind. 343 69.4 2010 Smith ¯ The Spirituality of Francis Libermann togetherness with them in the world, and our openness to the Holy Spirit of God. To understand Libermann's uniquely existential and incarnational spirituality, we must keep this Hebrew meaning of the human body in mind. It will sharpen our insight into his passion for social and racial jus-tice, human solidarity, democratic values, and the free-dom and dignity of every human being. Pope Pius XII described Libermann as an "outstanding master of the spiritual life." Henry Koren CSSP, after studying his writings intensively for many yeays, did not hesitate to claim that in the sphere of spiritual doctrine he proved himself an authentic pioneer. Koren attributed the originality, universality, and timelessness of Libermann's spiritual doctrine to his ability to transcend the narrow confines of his native France's romanticism and the self-absorbed bodily mortifications of 19th-century spirit-u-ality (1958, p. 157). With his deep convictions about our common human flesh and our God-given solidarity, Libermann was ahead of his time in many ways and in many arenas. He under-stood that the mission of the Christian community and of the missionary is identical with Jesus' mission, namely, the proclamation of the power of God's unconditional grace to restore all of creation--persons, bodies, and relationships--to wholeness (Volf & Lee; p. 389). Libermann's .spiritual doctrine, always rooted in basar, points us toward the Holy Spirit's action in the world of our daily life. Koren never tires of reminding us that it is not enough just to listen to the words or read the texts to discover what truly animates an indi-vidual or an organization. We must pay heed to what the French phenomenologist Maurice Merleau-Ponty has called "operational intentionality," the lived and living Review for Religious motivation of a person or an organization. Koren asks of his fellow Spiritans, what has been and what is the driv-ing force of their founders and of their members? In his unequivocal and oft repeated response, he replies that the Spiritans' lived spirituality can best be described as an Evangelical Availability, attentive to the Holy Spirit, manifested in the "concrete situations of life." Libermann's spirituality is contemporary in many ways, precisely because he roots it always in the exis-tential situation. In his insistence upon the "concrete situations of life," we detect echoes of Gestalt Therapy's focus on the Here and Now of human experience. The authors of Gestalt Therapy: Excitement and Growth in Human Personality (Perls et al.) encourage this exercise: "Try for a few minutes to make sentences starting with what you are at this moment aware of. Begin with the words 'now' or 'at this moment' or 'here and now.'" After presenting this technique for attending to the environ-ment more vividly, they make this comment: "V~rhatever is actual is, as regards time, always in the present. Hence the stress, if we wish to develop the sense of actuality, on words such as 'now' and 'at this moment'" (p. 31). Libermann's constant advice to seek the Holy Spirit "in the concrete situation of our lives" cradles the "here and now" of Gestalt therapy. It grounds the individual's spiritual life in the actual here and now of the existential dialogue of a personal past-present-future. In this con-text, Libermann reminds us that openness to experience demands detachment from the past. A Man of His Time Libermann seems to .have been richly endowed with the gift of "reading the signs of the time." For this rea-son he could consider the clergy's failure to keep up 69.4 2010 Smith * The Spirituality of Francis Libermann with the times to be their greatest fault. During the French revolution of 1848 and the subsequent demo-cratic elections, Libermann, unlike many of his reli-gious contemporaries and superiors at home and even in Rome, did not pine for some mythical golden age. He was prompt to let go of the traditional church devotion to the ancien rggime. He encouraged his men to get out to vote at the dawning of the democratic state in France. On 22 February, thousands of Parisians had taken to the streets to demand suffrage reform. King Louis Philippe lost his nerve and abdicated. After months of chaos and confusion in the parliament and throughout the nation, Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, nephew of the exiled great emperor Napoleon Bonaparte, was elected president of the Second RetJublic on 10 December 1848 by an overwhelming majority, 5.5 million votes to his closest contender's 1.5 million. No matter that Louis Napoleon had the reputation of a "cretin" and licentious playboy, the people had spo-ken and Louis's election held out promise of a more just order for the poor of France. Libermann honored the people's decision. His sentiments must have reso-nated also with the goals of the American Declaration of Independence of 1776, "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness." In a letter to a friend in 1848, he wrote that he welcomed the revolution, for the royalist govern-ment in his judgment was not genuinely concerned for "the happiness of the people." Ahead of his time in the political arena, he took pains to make clear that he saw the downfall of the old regimes as a sign of God's justice against the autocratic rulers that abused the rights of the common people. These sentiments prompted him to opine that someday the autocratic rulers of Russia would also fall. Even in the life of vowed religious com- Review for Religious munities, he expressed his inclination toward democratic values when he reminded his members that the congre-gation's highest authority rested in the consensus of its membership and not in the Rule or the superiors (letter to Father Gamon, 1848, cited in Koren, 1990, p. 18). In the arena of social and racial justice, Libermann also proved himself to be far ahead of his time. At least 125 years before the Catholic Church adopted its "pref-erential option - for the poor," ' Libermann had made this con-cern the keystone of his life and his work. When a Carthusian monk in France wrote to ask about the purpose of his new congrega-tion, Libermann replied that its general purpose was to preach the good news to the poor, in particular the poor blacks of the mis-sions (letter to Dom Salier, cited by Gilbert, p. 106). Koren points out certain sympathies between the doctrines of Karl Marx and Libermann. In their com-mon concern for the poor and oppressed of society, they in their own ways arrived, at the conviction that individ-ual acts of charity would never suffice to ameliorate the social conditions that spawned poverty and oppression. They both grasped the necessity for the structural and systemic change of social conditions. What was needed to reform society was not a handout but a hand-up. In Libermann's opinion it was not sufficient to teach the At least 125 years before the Catholic Church adopted its "preferential option for the poor," Libermann had made this concern the keystone of his life and his work. 347 69.4 2010 Smith ¯ The Spirituality of Francis Libermann 481 poor in Africa "how to operate things," but "how things operate" (1983, p.105). Marx equally promoted an inti-mate link between education and work. Koren tells us that he advocated an "early combination of progressive labor with education" as "one of the most potent means for the transformation of the existing society into the new society of universal brotherhood" (Selected Works, 2, 38, cited in Koren, 1990, p. 106). In some ways, Libermann's values so closely matched some of Marx's that today he might well be condemned as an enemy of capitalism, or besmirched with the tag of socialist, promoting class warfare¯ Koren tells us that Libermann experienced a profound gratitude over the downfall of the privileged classes of the rich, "that bourgeois aris-tocracy" which he calls "the legal establishment . . . which worships money and tramples on the interests of the poor . God has overthrown their idol" (cited in Koren, 1990, p. 107). Libermann is not speaking here in the voice of a political or economic reformer; he echoes the Hebrew prophets of old. "Hear this, you who tram-ple the needy to do away with the humble of the land. ¯ . The Lord has sworn by the pride of Jacob, indeed, I will never forget any of their deeds" .(Amos 8:4,6-7). In the realm of personal spiritual direction, Libermann's principles far transcended the common orientation of his contemporaries. As we shall soon see, his style of spiritual direction closely resembled in many ways the nondirective and client-centered approach of the 20th-century American psychotherapist Carl Rogers. But Libermann was not just a man ahead of his time. He was a man beyond his time: he had no desire to be first in anything, except for. love of God and service to others. He was beyond his time because his message and his approach rested solely upon the action of the Holy Review for Religious Spirit. He taught us to be like a feather in the wind or the sail of a ship responding to the breath of the Holy Spirit. It is in a pervasive docility to the Holy Spirit that we find the source of Libennann's flexibility and notable lack of rigidity in his spiritual doctrine. His natural dis-position to allow others to be themselves anticipated and prefigured Carl Rogers's client-centered counseling by at least a hundred years. A Hundred Years before Rogers For instance, empathy plays a central role in Rogerian psychotherapy. It also played a major role in Libermann's life and in his spiritual doctrine. Rogers tries to describe what occurs in the most satisfactory therapeutic relationships. He writes: "It is the counsel-or's function to assume, insofar as he is able, the internal frame of reference of the client, to perceive the world as the client sees it, to perceive the client himself as he is seen by himself" (1965, p. 29). The effective thera-pist must suspend all personal assumptions about the interior life of clients and refrain from imposing any external frame of reference upon them, while trying to convey to them an empathic understanding. It would appear that Libermann's personality was richly endowed with this gift of empathy. Boniface Hanley OFM indicated this special talent when he wrote that "Libermann was a negotiator par excellence. One of the things that contributed to his success in any transaction was his delicate courtesy" (p. 24). One of Libermann's closest collaborators, Father LeVavasseur, often remarked on his keen and delicate sensitivity toward others. He recalled his extraordinary ability in his dealings with others to imagine how he would feel if he were treated as he planned to treat them. 1349 69.4 2010 Smith ¯ The Spirituality of Francis Libermann It is amazing how this ability to mentally exchange places with other people reflects basic Rogerian princi-ples. For example, Rogers postulates that "every individ-ual exists in a continually changing world of experience of which he is the center" (1965, p. 483). This postulate closely mirrors the central role that "the concrete situ-ation of the individual" plays in Libermann's spiritual doctrine. A Rogerian corollary of the previous postu-late states, "The best vantage point for understanding behavior is from the internal frame of reference of the individual himself" (1965, p. 494). In his own life and teachings, Libermann fully embraced this axiom. This gift of empathy, Libermann's extraordinary capacity to understand the other person by entering the personally experienced world, is intimately linked with another concept of Rogerian psychotherapy, uncondi-tional positive regard. Rogers describes this condition of therapeutic change as follows: "When the therapist is experiencing a warm, positive, and acceptant attitude toward., the client, this facilitates change. It involves the therapist's genuine willingness for the client to be whatever feeling is going on in him at that moment" (1961, p. 62). Relating to the client within this attitude, the therapist allows the client to be. It is an attitude of total acceptance of the client's experiential world, with-out any condemnation of what the client may be expe-riencing. For Rogers this attitude means "an outgoing positive feeling without reservation, without evaluation" (1961, p. 62). Unconditional Positive Regard Keeping in mind this description of unconditional pos-itive regard, we canonly stand in awe before Libermann's spiritual genius when we read these words of his: Review for Religious The uncomfortable feeling we can have when we are with people who think and judge differently from ourselves, who despise us and have no time for us, can easily make us stiff and timid, with the result that we are gloomy, evasive, and awkward when we are with them. This can give a very bad impression and put people off our religion. We must love everybody, whatever they feel about us or our religion. (letter to LeBerre, 1847, cited in de Mare, p. 376) Libermann's attention to his "uncomfortable feelings" reminds us of Rogers's focus upon the essential impor-tance of accepting all our competing and conflicting feel-ings if we wish to attain to a wholesome state of bodily (organismic) congruence. Intimately bound to Roge~-s's therapeutic principle of unconditional regard for the client is his principle of acceptance. He defines acceptance as "a warm regard for him asa person of unconditional self-worth--of value no matter what his condition, his behavior, or his feel- ¯ ings. It means a respect and liking for him as a separate person, a willingness for him to possess his own feelings in his own way" (1961, p. 34). Libermann's writings abound in examples like this Rogerian attitude of acceptance. His close associates commented on feeling at home and at ease in his com-pany. Without doubt his generous capacity to accept oth-ers as they were, to let them be themselves, contributed greatly to the healing power of his spiritual direction. He encouraged self-acceptance and acceptance of oth-ers. He always advised individuals who were anguishing over their faults and imperfections in words like these: "Bear gently, patiently, and most peacefully--as best you can--your needs and your infidelities. Etch deeply in your heart that Jesus and Mary tolerate them with 69.4 2010 Smith ¯ The Spirituality of Francis Libermann sweetness and kindness, and that their love for you is always the same" (Libermann, pp. 5-6). He alwhys advised people who sought his advice to strive for tranquillity and serenity in their spiritual lives, and he recommended as a general rule that all harsh-ness and rigidity toward oneself should be rejected as a temptation. Some religious people have been suspicious of "self-acceptance," rejecting it as an invention of secu-lar humanistic psychology. Vitz, for example, parodies humanistic psychology and blames its "selfist" theories for the narcissism of our age. Unlike Rogers and Libermann, who believe in the essential goodness of human beings, Vitz stands more in the Calvinist tra-dition of gloom and doom, and does not so believe. It is obvious from Libermann's advice that self-acceptance is central to his doctrine of spirituality. Over and over he urges us and encourages us in the strongest terms to treat ourselves always in a calm, gentle, peaceful, and self-accepting fashion. His language is never hard, harsh, severe, judgmental, or condemnatory. All self-rejection or self-hatred is foreign to his spirit. Only in the heart that is at peace with itself can the Holy Spirit be free to do its work. The acceptance of others is a correlate of this self-acceptance. When the gentle angel of self-acceptance swoops down to slay the dragon of self-negation, it simultaneously opens its arms to embrace and affirm He always advised people who sought his a~vice to strive for tranquillity and serenity in their spiritual lives. Review for Religious others. Rogers stated that, close to an openness to our own inner and outer experience, there emerges an open-ness and acceptance of others. To make his point, he quotes from Maslow about self-actualizing individuals: "As the child looks upon the world with wide, uncriti-cal, and innocent eyes, simply noting and observing what is the case,., so does the self-actualizing person look upon human nature both in himself and in others" (cited in Rogers, 1961, p. 174). Gracious Acceptance of Others Expressions of this gracious acceptance of others, just as they are, abound in Libermann's spiritual writings. He vigorously insists: "Put down as a fundamental principle in the matters of direction: one must not constrain or cramp the one being directed. Refrain from prescribing too many rules" (pp. 13-14). In his spiritual direction he approached others with great flexibility and rejected all legalistic attitudes. He took great pains not to impose his own will or personal preferences upon others, but inclined rather to respect individual differences. We can say that Libermann's spiritual doctrine of unconditional acceptance spared him from all tenden-cies toward an idealized perfectionism. Once again, he was at least a hundred years ahead of his time. In the 1940s and 1950s, the renowned neo-Freudian Karen Horney developed the concept of the "idealized self." She describes this "idealized self" as "what we are in our irrational imaginations, or what we should be according to the dictates of neurotic pride" (p. 158). This idealized self is impossible of attainment, for it is based upon the illusion that a finite being can be perfectly complete. Libermann had anticipated this psychoanalytic insight in 1846 when he warned against "ideal perfection." For 69.4 2010 Smith ¯ The Spirituality of Francis Libermann the success of our endeavors, he urged that we learn to modify our views and to flow with the circumstances of the actual situation: otherwise we are always stumbling over obstacles and opposition (Libermann, pp. 51-52). A Man Beyond His Time The record indicates that Libermann was a man with a message ahead of his time. His vision did, indeed, transcend his own constricted time and place. While most of the Western world gloried in its own cultural imperialism, he wrote to his missionaries in Africa that they should "forget about Europe and its customs, its ways of thinking" (cited in de Mare, p. 351). He wanted his missionaries to identify with "the Blacks" and not form them in the European model. A good century before the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act of the 1960s in the United States, Libermann expressed his conviction that black people are in every sense equal to the white and that they are equally children of God "with the same nobility of soul . In short, color does not in any way denote inferiority" (letter to M. Percin, 1845, cited in de Mare, p. 377). We may recall the words of a powerful curial cardinal at the time of Vatican Council II when the Declaration on Religious Liberty was being debated: "Error has no rights." With this bon mot, he hoped to squelch the church's belated recognition of religious liberty for all. In light of current church teaching, Libermann's posi-tion was certainly more prophetic than the cardinal's. In 1846 he wrote: "It is difficult to appreciate how impor-tant this tolerance is. There is no way in which people will always agree" (letter to Lossedat, 13 April, cited in de Mare, p. 367). Most striking are the words from one of Libermann's letters quoted earlier. In 1847, he wrote Review for Religious that people "must be given complete freedom to think and act as they want. No man on this earth is capable of forcing the will, the conscience, or the intellect of others (letter to LeBerre, 8 September 1847, cited in de Mare, p. 376). Libermann's vision embraced many of the values we hold close to our hearts today. He cherished and advocated for religious tolerance, racial justice, human dignity, liberty, and solidarity with all the poor and oppressed of the world. He could see far because of his total availability to the Holy Spirit. It may be a little hagiographical to say so, but he was not only ahead of his time, but a man with a message beyond time, His spiritual wisdom constantly reminds us that we never labor alone in some ideal situation in some perfect world. It is only under the brooding of the Holy Spirit that the groaning of creation is stilled and the wounded heart of the world healed. With Libermann we pray, "Come, Holy Spirit, and renew the face of the earth." References Bierman, J. (1988). Napoleon III and His Carnival Empire. New York: St. Martin's Press. De Mare, C. (ed.). (2002). Spiritan anniversary diary (1703-2003): An historical overview published by the Generalate of the Congregation of the Holy Spirit as part of the celebrations of the Spiritan year (February 2002-Pentecost 2003). Rome: Congregazione dello Spirito Santo. Donnelly, D, (2003). A Universal Call. [Review of the book Housing Heaven's Fire: The Challenge of Holiness]. America, 188 (7), 32-33. Gilbert, A. (1983). You have laid your hand on me: A message from Francis Libermann for our time (M.L. Fay, trans.). Rome: Spiritan Research and Animation Centre. Hanley, B. (n.d.). TO the ends of the earth: Francis Libermann. [Brochure reprinted from The Antonian]. Pittsburgh: Holy Ghost Fathers. Horney, K. (1950). Neurosis and Human Growth: The Struggle Toward Self-Realization. New York: bV.W. Norton. 69.4 2010 Smith ¯ The Spirituality of Frands Libermann Koren, H. (1958)¯ The Spiritans: A History of the Congregation of the Holy Ghost. Louvain: Editions E. Nauwelaerts. ¯ (1990). F~says on the Spiritan charisnt and on Spiritan history. Bethel Park, Pennsylvania: Spiriths Press. Libermann, F. (n.d). Simplified advice¯ (EX. Malinowski, trans. & ed.). (Available from the Holy Spirit Provincialate, 6230 Brush Run Rd., Bethel Park, Pennsylvania 15102). Unpublished booldet. Perls, E, R. Heffenline, & P. Goodman (1951). Gestalt Therapy: Excitement and Growth in the Human Personality. New York: Dell. Malinowski, F.X. (n.d.). The Holy Spirit in Francis Libermann. Unpublished manuscript. Robinson, J. (1952). The Body: A Study in Pauline Theology. Philadelphia: Westminster Press. Rogers, C. (1942). Counseling and Psychotherapy: Newer Concepts in Practice. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. ¯ (1961). On Becoming a Person: A Therapist's View of Psychotherapy. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. ¯ (I 965). Client-Centered Therapy: Its Current Practice, hnplications, and Theory. Boston: Houghton Mifflin. Vitz, P. (1977). P~ychology as Religion: The Cult of Self-Worship. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Wm. B. Eerdmans. Volf, M., and M. Lee (2001). The spirit and the church. In B. Hinze & D.L. Dabney (eds.), Advents of the Spirit: An Introduction to the Current Study of Pneumatology. Milwaukee: Marquette University Press. Forerunner If even He Was made perfect By what He suffered, Why do we expect To be exempt? This is no easy path We have begun But, ah, the Trailblazer We have in Him. Teresa Burleson Review for Religious MARIAN MASKULAK The Love Mysticism of Bernard of Clairvaux and Julian of Norwich ~f~lian of Norwich (1342-c.1416) has been recognized r her Trinitarian and Christocentric mysticism as well as for her maternal imagery for God. While these placements are certainly accurate, I believe that more attention needs to be paid to the love mysticism in her spirituality. After all, Julian herself came to understand that love was precisely the meaning of her revelations,l As Joan Nuth writes, "If Julian's teaching can be summed up in one word, that word is love.''2 I find it instructive to examine how her treatment of love compares with that of someone who is considered a "classic guide" for love mysticism--Bernard of Clairvaux3 (1090-1153). Scholars of mysticism generally agree that Bernard stands out among Christian writers of his time as one who cul-tivated a spirituality of love and affective mysticism. Marian Maskulak CPS, assistant professor of Theology and Religious Studies, writes again from St. John's University; 8000 Utopia Parkway; Queens, New York 11439. 68.4 2009 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mysticism In fact, Louis Dupr~ credits Bernard with defining, in the West, contemplation as love.4 In their introduction to Julian's Showings, Edmund Colledge and James Walsh identify two connections between Julian and Bernard: understanding contempla-tion as "the working of mercy and grace, desire and fulfillment," and focusing on God's desire for human beings,s This article demonstrates that a number of other love-related themes in Julian's Sbo~vings can be linked with several of Bernard's writings, namely, On Loving God and selected sermons on the Song of Songs. Both authors speak with great abandon in describing God's first, gratuitous, and universal love, and both use strong imagery to portray the love and mutual desire between God and the human being. Both also charac-terize true love as including self-knowledge and absence of fear. I believe that the correlations are sufficient to rank Julian's love mysticism with Bernard's. This is not to say that the love spirituality they advocate is the same or that there is any simple corre-spondence to be found. Nor is their manner of expres-sion the same. While Bernard's thoughts are often clearly punctuated with scriptural verses or references, there are very few of these in Julian's Sbozvings. This lack seems attributable to Julian's time and place, for in 1409 the archbishop of Canterbury, Thomas Arundel, placed regulations on preaching and theological teaching, and forbade written copies of English translations of the Scriptures. Julian, however, does incorporate several scriptural themes, often by way of allusion, and refers to events like the annunciation and Jesus' passion and death. After examining both authors, I maintain that that the quality of Julian's love mysticism is no less than Bernard's. Review for Religious Brief Historical Context Bernard and Julian were two extremely diverse persons living in vastly different times. It will help to situate them historically. Well educated, Bernard lived as a Cistercian monk from the time he was twenty-one until his death at sixty-three. He advocated monastic reform, founded sixty-eight monasteries, was engaged in political, church, and theo-logical disputes, supported the Second Crusade, and left some 3,500 pages of let-ters, treatises, and sermons.6 Interestingly, the 12th century witnessed a proliferation of literature dealing with love, not only in the secular West, but also in the world's religions.7 Two centuries later, Europe was smitten with the Black Plague, the Hundred Years' War, and numer-ous other state and ecclesiastical conflicts. From this very different sociohistorical world comes the voice of Julian, about whom there is very little biographical information. At the age of thirty she had sixteen rev-elations, which included bodily visions of the crucified Lord, words formed in her understanding, and spiri-tual visions (ST 7, LT 9). As an anchoress, she spent the next twenty years reflecting on these revelations, which she recorded in a short and long text of her single work, Showings (LT 51). Although she refers to herself as "a woman, ignorant, weak, and frail" (ST 6), Julian demonstrates knowledge of the Latin Vulgate and the classical spiritual writings. It is not known where she received her education or where she had access to such Bernard and Julian were two extremely diverse persons living in Vastly different times. 69.4 2010 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mysticism 601 writings, but the possibilities are not lacking. There was an Augustinian friary on the same street as her anchor-hold adjoining the Church of St. Julian. Norwich also had a Dominican, a Franciscan, and a Carmelite friary as well as a Benedictine cathedral priory.8 A Cistercian abbey, Sibton, about thirty-seven miles outside the city, was within the diocese of Norwich and held estates in about ten parishes in Norwich. The Experience of God Although their mystical experiences of God greatly differ, the first correlation between these two authors is precisely the importance of experience for both of them. Although Bernard engages in some speculative thought, Jean Leclercq points out that "for Bernard, everything begins and ends with experience and, in between, experience is the object of reflection.''9 From a specifically mystical perspective, Grace Jantzen also notes the importance of experience for Bernard. She writes that "the mystical is no longer confined to the meaning of Scripture. nor to an intellectual progress, but is extended to experience . We have in Bernard a clear recognition of the mystical as experiential: it is a shift in meaning whose resonances are with us still.''~° Julian also engages in speculative thought, but all her reflection is on the experience of God's sixteen rev-elations to her. She repeatedly notes that this was what she saw or heard, or this was what was shown to her or what came to her understanding. A look at the mystical experience of each shows that, ironically, the well-known, charismatic, highly active, prolific Cistercian writer expe-rienced God's presence almost imperceptibly, while the fairly obscure English woman experienced God's presence quite dramatically. Both, however, were convinced of Review for Religious having experienced the divine presence. Moreover, rather than placing emphasis on themselves, both Bernard and Julian focus on the God of their experience. In one of his sermons, Bernard describes his mys-tical experience as follows: "I tell you that the Word has come even to me. and that he has come more than once. Yet, however often he has come, I have never been aware of the moment of his coming. I have known he was there; I have remembered his presence after-ward; sometimes I had an inkling that he was coming. But I never felt it, nor his leaving me.''1~ Bernard has no explanation as to the how of the Word's coming or going, but knows that, when present, the Word stirs his sleeping soul and moves, soothes, and pierces his heart. The warmth of Bernard's heart indicated the Word's presence, and as proof of the Word's power he states that his faults were purged and he experienced the good-ness of God's mercy. These affects became dim and cold when the Word left him, and Bernard describes his soul as being sorrowful until his heart would warm again, signaling the Word's presence. In the Word's absence, Bernard longed for his return.~2 While secondary mystical phenomena such as visions seem to be absent in Bernard's experience, their startling prevalence characterizes Julian's. Julian herself remarks on the lifelike vividness of her visions, especially those of the crucified Christ (LT 12, 16, 17). Although she never received any more visions after the sixteen revela-tions (certainly, these would last anyone for a lifetime!), Julian gives proof of having at least one more experi-ence of a spiritual understanding given to her some fif-teen years later while pondering the Lord's meaning in the revelations. She was told, "Know it well, love was his, meaning. Who reveals it to you? Love. What did t361 69.4 2010 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mysticism he reveal to you? Love. Why does he reveal it to you? For love" (LT 86). In the years that followed her revela-tions, Julian most likely felt God's presence or absence much the same as other Christians. In fact, God's felt presence or absence was the subject of her seventh revelation, where in quick, repeated succession Julian alternately experienced the comfort of God's presence followed by the heaviness of God's absence. In this way God taught her that it is God who keeps one whether in sorrow or joy (LT 15). As noted above, Bernard also recognizes the distinction between feeling God's pres-ence and absence, but provides no rationale as to why this happens. He comments, however, that one cannot attribute the desire to seek God to God's absence since God is always present.13 God as the Source of Loving God Despite the contrasts in their mystical experience, both Bernard and Julian recognize that God desires to be loved by human beings. Echoing 1 John 4:10, Bernard succinctly states that God is the cause of loving God, and ought to be loved beyond measure.~4 Bernard supports this position by distinguishing between four degrees of human love. The first degree entails loving oneself for one's own sake, or what Bernard calls bodily love. Bodily love can be extended to love of neighbor in the community. When people learn that God is the author of their existence, they start to seek God's help out of need and thus begin to love God, marking the second degree of love. As they approach God repeatedly out of need, God's self is gradually revealed through their prayer, reflection, reading, and obedience. In this familiarity, they begin to experience God's sweetness and pass to the third degree, Review for Religious loving God for God's sake. In addition they freely love their neighbor as belonging to God. Bernard believes that the fourth degree of love, marked by loving one-self for God's sake and willing only what God wills, is very rare on earth. He writes, "To lose your-self as though you did not exist and to have no sense of yourself, to be emptied out of yourself and almost annihilated, belongs to heavenly not to human love.''~5 ' Should people be admitted to such a union with God, they are soon called back by the distractions and cares of life, and by love for their neighbor. To love in the manner of the fourth degree is to become like God. Bernard uses beautiful imagery to describe how human love that is free of self-will "dissolves" and is poured into God's will. His analogies include a drop of water in wine which seems to disappear while taking on the wine's flavor and color, a red-hot iron that cannot be distin-guished from the fire, and air suffused with sunlight so that it seems to be light itself. In all three analogies, the substance itself seems to disappear, yet it remains in another form. Bernard submits that something similar takes place in the human being in becoming more like God. Although martyrs partly received this grace, as seen by their being unmoved in their great love of God in the midst of bodily torment, he believes that this kind of love is only possible in a spiritual and immortal body, subject to the spirit in all things. It cannot be obtained by human effort, but is in God's power to give as God pleases.~6 As for the greatness of God's love, Bernard Both Bernard and Julian recognize that God desires to be loved by human beings. 363 69.4 2010 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mysticism affirms that even those who are weighed down in sin can turn back to God, not just in the hope of mercy, but with the aspiration to be the Word's bride,my Although Julian is fond of "numbering" some of her insights in list style, she does not do so with love. Rather, she repeatedly emphasizes that God greatly loves even when humans sin (LT 40, 61, 82), and that God desires human love. The extent of God's love is perhaps best portrayed when she states that, if Jesus could suffer more, he would do so--because of his great love. From this perspective, Julian concludes that there is nothing that God would not do for humans out of love (LT 22, 24). Also, God holds the same love for the least soul to be saved as for the soul of Christ (LT 54). As with Bernard, she recognizes that God is the cause of loving God. She speaks of this in terms of God being the ground or foundation of human seeking of God (LT 41; 86). Julian delineates three longings in God: God longs to teach people to know and love God, longs for their personal presence, and longs to fill them with bliss (LT 75, 31). God rejoices in human beings and desires that human beings also take joy in God (LT 11, 30, 36). While Bernard asserts that it is easier to love in return when one knows that one is loved,ms Julian stresses that knowing how greatly the Trinity rejoices in human beings will cause them to likewise rejoice in God (LT 68). 364 Human Desire Not only do Bernard and Julian discuss God's desire for human love, but both take into consideration the role of human desire. Bernard writes that the greatest good is that of seeking God, and that "God is sought not on foot but by desire." 19 Furthermore, finding what one desires R~view for Religious only enhances desire. He illustrates this by noting how desire continually prompts people to seek material things and positions that are finer, higher, or better. Rather than enjoying what they have, they anxiously want something more or else fear losing what they already have. This is a never ending process since no discuss God's desire for material posses-sions ever fully sat-isfy them. Bernard states that, after attaining every-thing attainable and still finding themselves dissatisfied, people who desire the greatest good would ultimately seek what they still lack, God. He realizes, however, that, because of the shortness of life, temptations, and insufficient strength, this sce-nario is impossible. For this reason he wishes that people would be satisfied with reaching their desires in thought alone rather than in actual experience, for the mind is quicker than the senses. In this way they would learn more quickly that God causes human desire and God alone satisfies that desire.2° But this desire will be fulfilled only when they attain their glorious body in heaven. Here it is helpful to note that Bernard delineates three phases for the body. The earthly body helps the soul to love God, the dead body brings peace, and the glorious body brings completeness. Bernard views the body as a good companion to the good spirit and main-tains that the soul would not want to be perfected with-out the body that has served it well. Those who have Not only do Bernard and Julian human love, but both take into consideration the role of human desire. 69.4 2010 Maskulak * The Love Mysticism 366 assumed their glorious bodies burn fiercely with love for God for God's sake alone. Nothing holds them back. These are forever intoxicated with love, immortal life, and the torrent of God's delight "in the most passionate and most chaste embrace of Bridegroom and Bride.''21 Using the language of Augustine, Julian states that the soul will find rest only in God (LT 5, 26, 68). Along with Bernard, she counsels that created things are too small to satisfy people's desire, and that everything that falls short of God will never satisfy human beings. She agrees that God is the source and fulfillment of desire, for God reveals to her: "I am he who makes you to love; I am he who makes you to long; I am he, the endless fulfilling of all true desires" (LT 59, 36, 41). Julian adds that, in itself, seeking God also pleases God and is as good as beholding God, if this is God's will (LT 10). Exemplifying Bernard's statement that finding what one desires does not end but only increases desire, Julian admits that she saw God and yet sought God; that she had God, and yet still wanted God. From her own expe-rience she recounts that the more the soul sees of God, the more it desires God (LT 10). Julian believes that this desire will be fulfilled in heaven, and like Bernard she uses strong imagery to describe this culmination of desire. At that time we will know ourselves clearly and wholly possess God, and "endlessly hidden in God, truly seeing and wholly feeling, and hearing him spiritually and delec-tably smelling him and sweetly tasting him., we shall see God face to face, familiarly and wholly" (LT 43). Universality of God's Love and Self-Knowledge Both writers indicate, to an extent, God's universal love. In his treatise On Loving God, Bernard extends his discussion of love to include unbelievers who are able Review for Religious to witness God's generous love in such gifts as food, sun, and air as well as in the gifts of human dignity, knowledge, and virtue, all of which work together to confess God's glory. For Bernard it is inconceivable that unbelievers should not recognize that all the above-mentioned gifts come from God. Indeed, he asserts that it is inexcusable for unbelievers not to love God with all their heart, mind, and strength, which for Bernard means loving God with all one is, knows, and does. It is inexcusable because unbelievers know themselves, and such knowledge results in their recognition that they owe God everything, including their own dignity, knowledge, and virtue. This, in turn, leads them to con-cliade that God is the author of everything.22 This seems a rather strong assertion in today's world, where atheism abounds, but Bernard was most likely thinking of Jews, Muslims, and pagans, all of whom accepted belief in God or gods. Bernard extends his understanding of the universality of God's love to all creation when he states that love is the eternal law that creates and governs the universe.23 In her writing, Julian stresses that the revelations were given to her in order to make the comfort of God's love known to all. At times she uses phrases such as "fel-low Christians," "all mankind which will be saved," or "all mankind" for whom Jesus was sent, or "all the souls which will be saved in heaven" (LT 8, 40, 51, 53). Yet at other times she clearly says that God desires to draw home by love all humankind in general, and that God's merciful comfort is plentiful enough for all (LT 75, 79). Like Bernard, Julian points out the goodness of all creation, which God made out of love (LT 5, 11, 57). Both authors also speak of self-knowledge. For Bernard, self-knowledge is clearly people's first step '367 69.4 2010 Maskulak * The Love Mysticism towards recognizing their own dignity, and their sin-fulness as well: it makes humility and conversion possi-ble. 24 Julian directly relates knowing oneself to knowing God. In fact, because the soul is so deeply grounded in God, she believes that people come to know God before knowing their own soul. Yet they must also desire to know their own soul and to seek it where it is, that is, in God. Whether they are seeking to know God or themselves, the Holy Spirit leads them to know both God and their own soul in one (LT 56). 368 Creation and Re-Creation Another strong correlation between both writers is their emphasis on the immensity of God's love for human beings, shown not only in their creation but also in their re-creation through Jesus' self-giving on the cross. Bernard asks how, in one's smallness, one can love God who loves so generously. No one can really perceive iust how .much God deserves to be loved, and people owe their whole self in return for their creation. And Bernard holds they were not only "made" in cre-ation, but also "remade" through redemption. They owe their whole selves twice over. As already noted, Bernard counsels loving God without measure, but recognizes that even this is God's gift and persons can love God only according to their capacity. To love God more requires God's help.25 Julian also stresses that human beings were first made in the likeness of the Trinity and then remade through Jesus' passion and death (LT 10). Emphasizing that God has loved humankind from eternity, Julian elaborates on the mutual love and indwelling of God in the soul and the soul in God (LT 53). The soul is so united to the Creator that' there can be nothing between the soul Review for Religious and God. The soul is kept whole in the endless love of God, who loves even the least soul as much as the soul of Christ. In his translation of Sbozvings, John Skinner highlights the unity between the soul and the Creator by speaking of it as being "oned with the Maker.''26 In this mutual indwelling, Julian sees no difference between God and human substance (that is, that which is of God). She distinguishes between substance and sensuality (that which relates to being human), noting that human sub-stance is in God and God is in human sensuality (LT 53, 54). It seems that Sbo~vings presents a more holistic approach to the human person than Bernard's writings, or, as Grace Jantzen states, Julian integrates the body into her spirituality.27 She views the soul as "a created trinity," united to the Creator, and known and loved from eternity. In this unity, both body and soul help each other until the person reaches full stature (LT 55). Intimate Love This notion of union or "oneing" between the soul and its Creator leads to a consideration of the imagery which these writers use regarding the love .relationship between God and the individual. Bernard uses the erotic language of the bride and bridegroom found in the Song of Songs. His sermons on this book are replete with images of human love and intimacy. Insisting that God loves for no other purpose than to be loved, he states that the bridegroom is love and asks for love, and only in love can created persons respond to their Creator. All is given when one loves with all one's heart. With overtones of Julian's description of the soul united to the Creator, Bernard writes that such love "is nothing other than holy and chaste love, love sweet and tender, love as tranquil as it is true, mutual, close, deep love, 69.4 2010 Maskulak * The Love Mysticism 3701 which is not in one flesh, but which joins two in one spirit, making two no longer two but one.''28 Julian never explicitly refers to the Song of Songs, but she does use language that evokes the love and intimacy found in that text. For example, she point-edly states that God rejoices to be Father, Mother, and Spouse of the soul, which is God's beloved wife. "And in the joining and the union he is our very true spouse and we his beloved wife and his fair maiden., for he says: I love you and you love me, and our love will never divide in two" (LT 58). She also refers to God as the lover who desires that persons see themselves bound to God in love as though all that God has accomplished was done for themselves alone. Julian concludes that, when everyone looks at God as their lover, a strong bond of unity is created among people (LT 65). Other words that might indicate the influence of the Song of Songs are Julian's statement that God is pleased when a soul approaches "naked, openly, and familiarly" (LT 5). It can be noted that Bernard also counsels approaching God confidently, as a friend,29 but Julian emphasizes God's courtesy and familiarity rather than that of the human being (ST 16, 24; LT 5, 7, 40, 48, 52, 53, 58, 61, 73, 77). An echo of the poetic descriptions in the Song of Songs may be detected also in Julian's statement "Glad and merry and sweet is the blessed and lovely demeanor of our Lord towards our souls, for he saw us always liv-ing in love-longing, and he wants our souls to be gladly disposed towards him, to repay him his reward" (LT 71). Like Bernard, Julian uses the metaphor of embrace, but she does so with reference to clothing, describing Jesus as wrapping himself about human beings and never leaving them (LT 5). Review for Religious Maternal Imagery Far more than spousal imagery, Julian uses the image of a loving, caring, compassionate, and nurtur-ing mother to depict God's love. She frequently applies the image of motherhood to Jesus as one who loves his children, bears them to endless life, feeds them with himself, leads them into his breast through his wounded side, watches over them, and washes and heals them with his blood (LT 58, 59, 60, 61). Without giving any indication of purposely doing so, Julian provides us with an excellent example of how language about God is analogical. While she notes a number of similarities between Jesus and human mothers, she clearly identifies how Jesus as mother goes beyond the ordinary human conceptions of motherhood. For Julian, the word mother can be applied truly only to Jesus (LT 60). Even if she is not trying to provide a lesson on analogical language about God, perhaps she is indeed making her case for using maternal imagery for God by showing how it exceeds human categories. It is known that maternal imagery to describe God and Christ was popular among 12th-century Cistercian monks. In his Sermon 9 on the Song of Songs, Bernard quotes its first verse as saying "your breasts are bet-ter than wine." Noting that the speaker is not iden-tified, ¯ Bernard consecutively attributes these words to the bridegroom, the bride, and the groom's compan-ions. Associating the bridegroom with Jesus, Bernard speaks of the grace, joy, sweetness, and milk of conso-lation that flow from the bridegroom's breasts.3° In a letter Bernard writes: "Do not let the roughness of our life frighten your tender years. If you feel the stings of temptation., suck not so much the wounds as the breasts of the Crucified. He will be your mother, and 371 69.4 2010 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mysticism you will be his son." Interestingly, Bernard also applies the image of mother to "Moses, Peter, Paul, prelates in general, abbots in general, and more frequently himself as abbot,''3~ but he does not develop the mother image for Jesus as fully as Julian does. Perhaps it is because, in this analogy for love, his focus is on the child more than on the mother. He writes that, although children ought to love their parents, they are more inclined to honor them; in fact, some only love their parents out of concern for their inheritance. Unquestionably, Bernard sees the bond of bride and bridegroom as the epitome of love, stronger than the bond between parents and children.32 No Place for Fear Attesting to the greatness of God's love, Bernard asserts that one who loves God has nothing to fear, even if one has been an unfaithful lover. Every soul, no mat-ter what its condition, whether filled with anxieties or trapped in sin and error, can turn back to God to find not only mercy and forgiveness, but even hope to be the bride of the Word. The fact that one is created in God's image should allay any fear. Confidence and freedom accompany a love which, in the words of 1 John 4:18, casts out fear.33 Although Julian does not speak directly about the sense of freedom enjoyed by those who love without fear, she often implies it. She writes of God's pleasure when a person approaches unafraid, in simplicity and trust. Sinners need not fear, for much to her amaze-ment Julian discovers that in God there is neither anger nor blame (LT 13, 45, 46, 49, 50). Except for "reverent fear," which causes us to flee from harm and to seek God, Julian asserts that fears are not from God and R~view for Religious should be avoided. Her overriding message is that God is so good, merciful, and compassionate that, like a child confidently running to its mother's arms, one need not have any fear in approaching God (LT 48, 61, 74). Reward The notion of reward as related to love is also found in each author's writings. Bernard states that God ought to be loved without seeking reward, for true love finds reward in what it loves. Therefore, one who asks for any reward other than God does not love God. God's love rewards human love, and God is our eternal reward.34 Agreeing that God is our eternal reward (ST 16, 20; LT 41, 81, 82), Julian elaborates on the concept of reward. In an unexpected twist, she asserts that human beings are Jesus' reward for his acts of salvation (ST 12, LT 22, 31). In an even bolder declaration, she maintains that human beings will be rewarded for the pain they suffered from sin. When speaking of - those who are sorry for their sins, confess them, and perform the required penance, she writes, "And as sin is punished here with sorrow and penance, in contrary fashion it will be rewarded in heaven by the courteous love of our Lord God almighty, who does not wish any-one who comes there to lose his labors" (ST 17, LT 38, 39). God also rewards human beings for their patient waiting until they are able to leave behind the pains and woes of this life (LT 64). God's love rewards human love, and God is ,our eternal reward. 373 69.4 2010 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mystidsm Summary Comparisons While classifying mystics might hold some advan-tages, it also has the drawback of focusing attention in certain directions. Julian of Norwich, known for her Trinitarian and Christocentric mysticism, as well as her referring to God as mother, provides a case in point. Since Bernard of Clairvaux is known for the pri-macy of love in his mysticism, I have used several of his writings as a standard, so to speak, against which to measure Julian's love-texts and show how central love is in Julian's mysticism. While Julian and Bernard both present their own experiences and perceptions, their treatments of the love of God also display much in common. Despite diverse styles, they both speak of this love with great abandon. In strong and compelling language, both describe God's immense love as given first, and gratuitously, to all. They give firm assurance that God loves human beings and seeks their love. They portray the love between God and the human being in strong and beautiful imagery, pointing out the mutuality of desire that this involves. Both Bernard and Julian show that people's self-knowledge is important for their knowledge of God, and that absence of fear characterizes true love. Bernard certainly deserves his position of prominence in the church and his title of "doctor mellifluus" for his achievements in expressing a mysticism of love, but Julian, too, displays an expe-rienced teacher's mastery of love mysticism. From the depths of their own experience, prayer, and reflection, these spiritual writers offer much to those who wish a better understanding of the love relationship between God and human beings. Review for Religio~s Notes l Julian of Norwich, Showings, trans. Edmund Colledge and James Walsh (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), Long Text 86. Hereafter, in parent.heses, Long Text will be designated as LT, and Short Text as ST. 2 Joan M. Nuth, Wisdom's Daughter: The Theology of Julian of Norwich (New York: Crossroad, 1991), p. 169. 3 Bernard of Clairvaux: Selected Works, trans. G.R. Evans (New York: Paulist Press, 1987), Preface by Ewert Cousins, p. 5. 4 Light from Light: An Anthology of Christian Mysticism, 2nd ed., ed. Louis Duprfi and James Wiseman (New York: Paulist Press, 2001), General Introduction, pp. 7, 10. s Colledge and Walsh, Showings, Introduction, pp. 26, 107. They also find her dependent on Bernard's fellow Cistercian William of St. Thierry, in her discussion of the godly will and God as mother. 6 Evans, Bernard, Introduction by Jean Leclercq, pp. 16-17, 30. Y Evans, Bernard, Preface by Cousins, in pp. 5-7. 8 Norman P. Tanner, The Church in Late Medieval Norwich, 1370- IY32 (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Mediaeval Studies, 1984), p. 19. 9 Evans, Bernard, Introduction by Leclercq, p. 31. 10 Grace Jantzen, Power, Gender, and Christian Mysticism (United Kingdom: Cambridge University Press, 1995), p. 126. n Evans, Bernard, "Sermons [on the Song of Songs]," Sermon 74, pp. 254-255. 12 Evans, Bernard, Sermon 74, pp. 255-256. is Evans, Bernard, Sermon 84, pp. 274-275. 14 Evans, Bernard, "On Loving God," 1.1, 6.16, 6.22; "Sermons," Sermon 83, p. 274; Sermon 84, 275-276. is Bernard, "On Loving God," 8.23-10.27, 14.38, 15.39. 16 Bernard, "On Loving God," 10.27-11.30. i~ Bernard, Sermon 83, pp. 270-271. 18 Bernard, "On Loving God," 3.7. 19 Bernard, Sermon 84, p. 274. 20 Bernard, "On Loving God," 6.18-6.21. 21 Bernard, "On Loving God," 11.30-11.33; see also Bernard, Sermon 83, p. 271. 22 Bernard, "On Loving God," 2.6, 5.14. 23 Bernard, "On Loving God," 12.35. 69.4 2010 Maskulak ¯ The Love Mystidsm 24 Bernard McGinn, "The Human Person as Image of God: II. Western Christianity," in Christian Spirituality: Origins to the Twelfth Century, ed. Bernard McGinn and John Meyendorff (New York: Crossroad, 1985), p. 324; Bernard, "On Loving God," 2.3-2.4. z~ Bernard, "On Loving God," 4.5-6.16. 26 Julian of Norwich, Revelation of Love, trans. John Skinner (New York: Doubleday Image Books, 1996), p. 55. 27Jantzen, Power, p. 156. 2s Bernard, Sermon 83, p. 274. 29 Bernard, Sermon 83, p. 271. 3o Bernard of Clairvaux: On the Song of Songs, vol. 1, trans. Kilian Walsh, The Works of Bernard of Clairvaux (Spencer: Cistercian Publications, 1971), pp. 55-58. 3~ Caroline Walker Bynum, Jesus as Mother: Studies in the Spirituality of the High Middle Ages (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1982), pp. 117, 115. 32 Bernard, Sermon 83, p. 273. 33 Bernard, Sermon 83, pp. 270-271; Sermon 84, pp. 276-278; Bernard, "On Loving God," 14.38; Sermon 7, p. 232. 34 Bernard, "On Loving God," 6.17, 6.22, 11.33; Bernard, Sermon 83, p. 272. Personal Reflection [ Group Discussion 1. What is your favorite image to describe your own love-relationship with God? 2. Both Bernard and Julian use a number of love images for God and our human relationship. What images have I found most helpful? Review for Religious CHINYEAKAC. EZEANI Cultivating Mature Relationships in Religious Formation It is rightly said that "no one is an island." Human beings like to live in relationships. Social psychologists have noted that people usually prefer living with others, in families and communal groups, to living alone.~ Even amid relationships, however, there is yet in the human heart a certain hesitancy and fear at the possibility of losing oneself in others. Hence, naturally, diverse factors have significant influ-ence in interpersonal relations. Difficulties and conflicts can spring up while a person tries to relate with others in an authentic way. This helps us understand why formators struggle in their day-to-day relations with one another and with those in formation. Individuals in for-marion experience similar struggles as they try to relate not just with their formators but also Chinyeaka C. Ezeani MSHR served as a formator in Nigeria and is now a member of her congregation's leadership in Dublin: 23 Cross Avenue; Blackrock, Co. Dublin; Ireland. r lioious 68.4 2009 Ezeani ¯ Cultivating Mature Relationships with their peers coming from different backgrounds. In this article, we will examine some of the chal-lenges to good communication and relationships in for-marion. People cannot claim to love God, whom they cannot see, while they have no love for their neighbor. And so we will explore some skills that can facilitate mature human relations in the formation ministry. We will make some suggestions on how to offer helpful feed-back to persons in formation in ways that respect their integrity and enhance their personal growth. Learning this will no doubt flow into one's relationship with the Creator and make it flourish. Obstacles to Mature Relationship in Formation Intimacy versus isolation. As indicated above, human beings have a basic need for intimacy with other human beings, and consequently they desire to be close to oth-ers. There is a corresponding need for isolation, a need to be alone. Erik Erikson,2 in his analysis of psychosocial development, identified the polarities of desire for union with or closeness to another (intimacy) and desire for aloneness (isolation). We experience a tension between wanting to be close to another and a fear of being too close. When you come closer to another person, or when you allow another to come close to you, sooner or later that closeness begins to make demands on you, on your time, your personal space, your freedom. This provokes a dilemma: Should I keep this person at arm's length, or should I create some space for him or her in my life? Usually, interpersonal relational ambivalence emerges because of the primary "striving for related-ness to other human beings" and the simultaneous striv-ing for "a sense of personal identity.''3 Because of these seemingly contradictory longings, persons who enter Review for Religiotts a community or group go through different stages as they get integrated into it.4 The first stage is inclusion, in which individuals' primary preoccupation is whether they are loved and accepted. The next stage is power, in which people wonder about their autonomy and their capacity to challenge, in this case, both the formator and their peers. The third and final stage is intimacy or affection, in which the primary concern is equality with others, the readiness of all to give rather than to receive. These stages involve confusion and uncertainty regarding one's status and position in a group. Hence, before one can get fully involved in the give-and-take of interpersonal relations and communal life, one goes through these stages. And, naturally, these stages can involve personal difficulties. Communication deficiency. When it comes to mature interpersonal relations, communication is vital. To be helpful, however, communication must be healthy and mature; if not, any authentic relating with the other at any level will be almost impossible. Can you imagine a religious formation community where people com-municate only by slipping little pieces of paper under one another's door? "Unhealthy communication can be a block to healthy intimacy and affective maturity. Communication helps foster greater connection, and communication is fundamentally a learned set of skills and behaviors.''5 Arrogance and a superior attitude. Whenever some-one approaches another with an attitude of arrogance When it comes to mature interpersonal relations, communication is vital. 69.4 2010 Ezeani ¯ Cultivating Mature Relationships and superiority, the other may respond with either anger, self-defense, or resistance. Alternatively, the per-son could cower in fear, feeling like a "lesser being." When this happens, for example, between a formator and someone in formation, the formative environment becomes tense, and the one in formation may try to cope by external conforming. As a result, there could be apparent peace and tranquillity in the formation house, because such persons would seem to have no difficulty with answering "Yes, Brother," "Yes, Sister," or "Yes, Father." In the long term, however, the result may be groups of young priests and religious who bully others because that was what was modeled for them in their own formation. Aggression. The environments in which we are raised usually have an influence on us. In some cultures, shout-ing at one another seems to be an acceptable way of relating. Such scenes abound even in public places such as post offices, government offices, and marketplaces. To sell wares in the market or to get passengers into public buses, people have been conditioned to shout in order to draw attention. It appears to have become normal to shout to get some attention or make a point subjectively considered to be important. A sister once confessed that, when she was a postulant, whenever the directress gave her feedback gently without shouting, she did not take it seriously. She thought the matter was not serious because she had been socialized to believe that, if an issue was serious enough, the directress would have shouted at her to indicate the seriousness of the matter. Aggression usually attracts aggression. Suppose someone approaches you to express his or her disap-proval or ill feeling over how you handled an issue. What can happen if the person begins to speak to Review for Religious you with strong and accusing words? You are likely to respond or react in the same way or with self-defense. The meaningful dialogue that could have taken place is thus aborted. Low self-esteem and negative self-image. Just like an attitude of superiority towards others, low self-esteem is a great enemy of mature human relations. If people have a good sense of self, they are better disposed to relate with other adults as equals. Where this does not hap-pen, an individual either too easily defers to others even in matters that need assertiveness, or reacts aggressively in subtle passive ways instead of clear self-expression. Low self-esteem also leads to feelings of envy, which can constitute a real obstacle to genuine caring regard and goodwill towards other people. Prejudice, misinterpreting deeds and intentions. Prejudice is a negative prejudgment of individuals or a whole group. It can lead one to irrational and hostile behavior towards them. When people's way of seeing things is prejudiced or biased, they view other people and their intentions in a distorted way, and can hardly avoid relating to them distortedly. The flow of commu-nication becomes blocked. A similar dynamic is opera-tive in tribalism, ethnocentrism, and other forms of discrimination. One perceives others in a negative way and treats ,them in like manner. Unrealistic expectations. The well-known Indian Jesuit spiritual writer Anthony de Mello6 maintained that to be truly happy in life you should "have no expectation of anyone." This might sound weird or exaggerated. Some might be wondering, "How can I live without having expectations of people with whom I live?" I have come to value De Mello's advice. A great source of difficulty in interpersonal relationships is that we tend to have too '381 69.4 2010 Ezeani ¯ Cultivating Mature Relationships Formators are challenged to take on the responsibility of dealing with their own issues first. high and often unrealistic expectations of other people. While it is good to have ideals and norms of expected behavior, our attitude towards persons in this regard is equally important. The Scriptures remind those who are strong to bear with the failings of the weak (Rm 15:1). But the question arises "Which of us is really strong?" Although we need to carry out our ministry diligently, the manner in which we do it is vital. It is better to be effective forma- . tors than just "efficient machines" that end up producing battered individuals for the Lord's vineyards. We shall come back to this point below, where we look at how to give feedback in a helpful way. Some psychological baggage. Each of us is a "strug-gling human being." Sometimes we struggle with unre-solved personality issues from our childhood and our families of origin. Some battle with a self-centeredness that unmindfully uses others for self-gratification, some have addictive behaviors, and some have difficulty feel-ing empathy for others. Others tend toward anxiety, harbor resentment of authority, or have deep-seated anger. Some have deficient social skills or problematic psychosexual issues. These difficulties can and do inter-fere in interpersonal relationships to various degrees. Formators are challenged to take on the responsibility of dealing with their own issues first. This will facilitate their relationship patterns in ministry so that they can functon more effectively and lovingly. Review for Religious Skills for Mature Relationships in Formation Growth in interpersonal relationships tends to point to maturity. It is equally a good indicator of openness to a good relationship with God. For instance, no one can say he or she loves God if the person detests fellow human beings. The following are some of the skills required for such mature human relations in formation: A prayerful and reflective way of life. "An unexamined life is not worth living," as Socrates said. It goes without saying that a reflective and discerning lifestyle is neces-saW for healthy living and good human relationships. People then are able to respond to others and to various situations instead of reacting to them. Self-awareness and acceptance. There is also the important value of self-awareness in interpersonal rela-tionships. Appropriate self-awareness helps much in cultivating good communication and relational skills. When people are more self-aware, the greater inner freedom they have to respond positively and maturely to people in various situations. Misunderstandings that often occur during conflicts can be more maturely dealt with. Recognizing and admitting their own motivations and personal struggles facilitates good relationships with others. It is not enough for formators to be commit-ted to the faith and to Christian discipleship and ready to give both spiritual and human assistance to others. They must also have begun vigorously their own jour-ney of self-understanding. They must be dealing with the major issues in their own life. Self-care. A healthy and integrated formation environ-ment is possible only with formators who are committed to fostering cordial relationships between themselves and those in their care. To be effective in their ministry, formators must also be taking care of their own physi- 69.4 2010 Ezeani * Cultivating Mature Relationships Mature interpersonal relations do require a degree of "dying toself.," 384 cal and spiritual needs. Such self-care should include days off for rest and reflection, along with friendship and companionship with others not under their care. "Many religious and clergy have discovered the hard way through burnout and various overdependencies that not attending to self-cai'e can have disastrous con-sequences.'' 7 From time to time, formators need some form of supervision and spiritual direction. Interaction with other formators can help them sustain the capac-ity to relate, with compassion and genuine interest, to those who are in formation. Trust and ability to be and work together. Interpersonal relations, whatever the context, always pose challenges. The work of formation includes training for trust and effective interpersonal communication. No matter the amount of expertise brought into the formation program, if we do not have social skills and the disposition to col-laborate with others, our efforts might bear very little fruit. Good relationships are not just about "assembling" and "being together." That is too simplis-tic. A .good "team" spirit and mutual respect are what is really needed. Mature people can safely count on each other in appropriate interdependence. They can dis-agree or differ in certain issues in a nonaggressive way, without undermining their respect for one another. Self-discipline. The .religious and priestly vocations are based on self-transcendence as the path to real self-fulfillment. Although, before Vatican II, forget.ring self Review for Religious to the point of near self-effacement was advocated, the pendulum swinging in the opposite direction can have an equally negative impact. Mature interpersonal rela-tions do require a degree of "dying to self." A measure of self-renunciation and discipline for the common good is important. Nonviolent communication. Good communication skills are indispensable in the work of accompanying others in their religious lives. This accompaniment consists in more than verbal teaching of values. To be effective, teaching is to be done by example. In teaching people to be respectful of others, teachers must model respect for others in their very manner of communica-tion. In his book Non-violent Communication, Marshall B. Rosenberg8 offers some tips on how to deal with others in harmonious, nonviolent, and nonthreatening ways. He does this under several headings. 1) What we are seeing/observing: First we need to be aware of what we are seeing or observing in another and to communicate that instead of offering our own judgment, our own interpretation of other persons' actions. Keeping observed facts separate from our judg-ments helps towards clear communication. Describing what we have observed, rather than judging it, respects others in our interpersonal relationships. Judgments can easily be wrong. An example of confusing observation with judgment is the following: Saying "Nigerians are proud" instead of saying "I met a Nigerian sister taking the same course who did not talk much to me." 2) What we are feeling: According to Rosenberg, our feelings are the door to our inner world. They tell us whether what is happening is wh~ t we desire or not. To be in touch with our feelings is to be in touch with our inner world. Alienated from our feelings, we 69.4 2010 Ezeani ¯ Cultivating Mature Relationships 386 are alienated from our values. For example, if I simply express how I feel about what I have observed instead of expressing a judgment, others respond to me better. We need to be present to our real feelings and express them clearly to others. People sometimes avoid awareness of their real feelings by merely using the word "feel" and then following it with more of a thought than a feeling. They say: "I feel I am right," words that speak more of what I think than how I feel. Other such thought-filled "feelings" are "I feel inadequate" or "I feel misunder-stood." As judgments, they may be right or wrong, but they express thought more than feeling. 3) What we are thinking or what we value: What we value contributes to our feeling and may affect com-munication. Our feelings may result less from what we observe than from the meaning we attribute to it. When I fail to be aware of the meaning that contributes to my feeling, I may be blind to the cultural programming I bring into communication situations. Then, instead of constructively saying "I felt hurt when you did not ask me to go along with you," I might say, unhelpfully, "When you did not ask me to go along with you, I felt hurt because it showed your rejection of me." 4) What we are requesting: When we make our requests to others in positive-action language, we have a better chance of a good response. It is not enough to be sure of what you do not want; you should know what you want. When you make a request, ask specifically for what you desire the person to do for you. Avoid vague requests like these: "I want you to accept me as I am," "I want you to respect my rights," "I want some understanding," "I want you to be more cooperative." Instead, make specific requests in more positive words: "I like it when you call me, but once a day is enough" Review for Religious instead of "I don't want you phoning me every day"; or "Please keep the knife in the kitchen" instead of "Is this the place to keep the knife?" Learning to communicate with one another in these ways can greatly enhance the quality of relationships. Giving Helpful Feedback to Those in Formation There is no doubt that good communication pat-terns are the heartbeat of human relationships. Hence the manner in which feedback is done is crucial. Feedback, not correction. Many readers may be famil-iar with the Johari window. It indicates, among other things, that there are aspects of ourselves known to oth-ers but not to us. It suggests that every human being needs some form of feedback or "reflecting back" from others in order to grow. Formation programs seek to provide such feedback regularly for those in training for the priestly and religious life. How this is done is important. First in importance is to have deep respect for people. Second is attentive listening. The purpose of the feedback given to persons in formation is to foster in them an awareness that will help them to truly inter-nalize Christ's values. Formators need to be fully aware of that purpose. In addition, they need to be in touch with their own motives for giving the feedback. A variety of motives may be operating. Here are some: (1) care, concern, and love. (2) respect. (3) empathy for the other person's perspective. (4) intimidation, to instill fear. (5) a sense of "duty." (6) a sense of superiority ("I know it all" or "I know better"). (7) a sense of power. Feedback achieves its aim when it comes from motives 1, 2, and 3 above. It does not achieve its aim if it comes from any motive from 4 through 7. Our manner of giving feedback ought to be mod- 69.4 2010 Ezeani ¯ Cultivating Mature Relationships 38'8 eled on the values of Christ, and it should illilstrate them. Otherwise it could do damage rather than help. The capacity to offer and receive good feedback greatly enhances relationships. It helps people to care for one another and enlighten one another. What does it profit if feedback only puts out the light in other persons or makes them think they are no good? Feedback should help others find and tap the positive resources that are already within them. I shall end this article with a story of an old rabbi and his disciple. One day the disciple called on the Master confessing, "Master, when I study or join oth-ers in great feasts, I feel a strong sense of light and life. But when it's over, it's all gone. Everything dies in me." After some moments of thoughtfulness, the old rabbi raised his head and, looking lovingly at the youth, replied: "Ah, yes, of course. 'It is just this feeling that happens when people walk alone through a wood at night. If another comes along with a lantern, they can walk safely and joyfully together. But, if they come to a crossroad and the one with the lantern departs, then the other must go on alone, carrying the light inside." This is what mature relationships can help people do. Notes 1 D.G. Myers, Social Psychology, 7th ed. (Boston: McGraw-Hill College, 1999), p. 168. 2 E. Erikson, Childhood and Society. (New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1950), 1963, pp. 263-265. 3 L.C. Wynne, "The Epigenesis of Relational Systems: A Model for Understanding Family Development," Family Process 23, no. 3 (1984): 298. 4 E. Fried, "Basic Concepts in Group Psychotherapy," in H. Kaplan and B. Sadock (eds.), Comprehensive Group Psychotherapy (Baltimore: Williams & Wilkins, 1971), pp. 55-56. Review for Religious s Kevin McClone, "Intimacy and Healthy Affective Maturity- Guidelines for Formation," Human Development 30, no. 4 (Winter 2009): 5-13. 6 Anthony de Mello, Awareness (London: HarperCollins, 1990), pp. 6-8, 31-32, 50-55. In his writings he often said we should not put such burdens of expectation and dependence on them, for it results in stifling both them and us. 7 McClone, "Intimacy," p. I0. 8 M.B. Rosenberg, Non-violent Communication: A Language of Life (Encinitas, California: PuddleDancer Press, 2003), pp. 25-102. Word Made Flesh At the tnidnight hour when the world is asleep, you are born in a hovel for donkey and sheep. We wander in from hills of unaware, valleys of apathy, deserts of despair to gaze on you in dulnbstruck awe - Lamb of God sleeping on borrowed straw. Irene Zimmerman OSF 69.4 2010 DANIEL J. HEISEY Operatic Discernment of a Vocation Ion September 2009, the Metropolitan Opera pened its season with a controversial production of Giacomo Puccini's Tosca. When it was first staged, in January 1900, Puccini had sought realistic detail in set and costume, part of what is known in opera as verismo. A little over a century later, the Met's new version took liberties that drove the audience to boo.1 Whatever vision the director follows when staging this opera, there will be in act 2 a moving aria sung by Floria Tosca herself, "Vissi d'arte," in which she prays to God and begs to know why her faith is rewarded with suffering. It is a perennial plea, well known to or awaiting every Christian. For fellow believers, not only is Tosca's pain familiar, but also, perhaps, the weakened will and darkened intellect that complicate her spiritual life. Unfortunately, sharing in Tosca's anguished prayer tends to be beyond the ordinary routine of English- Daniel J. Heisey OSB is a monk of Saint Vincent Archabbey, where he is known as Brother Bruno and where the address is 300 Fraser Purchase Road; Latrobe, Pennsylvania 15650. Review for Religious speaking Christians. Moreover, Tosca is often classified as "anticlerical," especially in contrast to Puccini's more obviously religious opera Suor Angelica.2 In what fol-lows, staying basically within the Puccini style, we will look at two operatic works by Gian Carlo Menotti, The Saint of Bleecker Street and Amahl and the Night Visitors, to explore ways that opera in English can help with the discernment of a religious vocation. Menotti's use of English makes more accessible the religious themes of these two operas, especially when one contemplates what place opera can have in voca-tional discernment. The Saint of Bleecker Street won the Pulitzer Prize and has been called "strong and realist, yet plainly on the side of the angels,''3 and Amahl and the Night Visitors, meant to be staged at Christmas, retains its warm place in Christian hearts. Moreover, opera has its roots in the baroque world of 17th-century western Europe, the world of the cultural efflorescence known as the Counter-Reformation. A magnificent baroque opera house, with the florid emotions it stages, welcomes spec-tators much as a vast Gothic cathedral engulfs worship-ers. Both, as one historian has observed, enshrine "the only splendor in their lives.''4 Whereas the celebration of the Eucharist is the central "drama," so to speak, in a cathedral, in opera--in Menotti's operas at least--one may find signs pointing one to a renewed appreciation of the Priest, Victim, and Host of that sacrificial ban-quet. We will look at The Saint of Bleecker Street and Amahl and the Night Visitors together, as if they were antiphonal choirs forming a composite work. Menotti's "The Saint" Despite his prodigious and prolific work, Menotti is sometimes dismissed as secondhand and second-rate ,391 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation During a career spanning seven decades, Menotti seems to have reached his creative and popular height in the 1950s. Puccini, but he is worthy of study in his own right,s Born in northern Italy in 1911, he studied music in Milan and there met Arturo Toscanini, who advised Menotti's parents to send the boy to the United States for further training in composition. After studying at Philadelphia's Curtis Institute, Menotti moved to New York City. A resdess and energetic man, he traveled widely, establish-ing the Festival of Two Worlds, operatic centers at Spoleto, Italy, and Charleston, South Carolina. In 1974 he bought an estate in Scotland; in early 2007 he died in Monaco. His operas, as with any good opera, convey their message by means of the music, and so they must be at least heard if not seen. Here on the printed page, we must content ourselves with verbal description and passages from the libretti. During a career spanning seven decades, Menotti seems to have reached his creative and popular height in the 1950s. By 1955 he had appeared on the cover of Time magazine, had received two Pulitzer prizes, and was celebrated in London, Milan, and Paris. Although he preferred not to use the term, he wrote verismo operas in English, the first to concern us here being his Saint of Bleecker Street (1954). Its plot is simple. A young woman in New York's "Litde Italy" neighborhood wants to become a nun, and her brother tries to stop her. She has the support of friends and her parish priest, Don Review for Religious Marco, who faces much of the brother's wrath. In the end she makes her vows as a religious, but at a price. It must be said that the young woman, Annina, is not the usual candidate for religious life. She is chronically and, as it happens, terminally ill. She has a deep prayer life, each Good Friday having visions of the Passion and receiving the stigmata. As with more usual candidates, her attraction to religious life has consequences familiar to many who are discerning such a vocation. Her broth-er's opposition, impetuous and irrational to the point of physical violence, carries verisimilitude. Likewise, Don Marco's role as gentle yet firm shepherd rings true. He must comfort and console her, and he must confront and contradict the brother, Michele. He is an angry young man, his life shown to be at odds with most of the virtues, and he demands the priest tell him if he believes in Annina's visions. At this point Don Marco tells Michele, "A priest is not a judge but only a guide.''6 Of course, nothing anyone can say makes Michele see a point of view other than his own. Michele and Annina are adult orphans and share an apartment, from which he is frequently absent for work or for his girlfriend. When Annina receives her annual stigmata, neighbors flock to the apartment, causing in Michele an explosion of jealousy. As he furiously drives them from the flat, the scene is an inversion of Jesus driving the money-changers from the temple. When, at the wedding reception of friends, Michele ends up shedding blood, it is a grotesque distortion of the wed-ding at Cana. As Annina moves closer to God, her life fills with these stumbling blocks, twisted 'scenes from the life of Christ. Her brother becomes a hindrance in a more literal sense. Act 2 of the opera ends with a religious proces- 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation sion, thus providing a parallel with the end of the act 1 of Tosca. But, whereas the main characters in Tosca reverently let it pass, Michele tries to stop Annina from participating in the procession. This already frustrated man finds himself restrained by the faithful, who then accompany Annina and join the procession. Again, persons discerning a religious vocation will recognize that sometimes they have more support from folks they scarcely know than from their own family. Part of Annina's cross is thus her brother's boorish and self-absorbed behavior. He challenges her search for God and her desire to become a spouse of Christ. Michele rails against a decision he deems abnormal and reduces her sense of religious vocation to the delusions brought on by illness. He pleads that he needs her and must not lose her to her God. Annina tries in vain to show him how she sees the situation. She tells him, "No one can ever be lost who wanders, searching for God.''7 In her argument with her brother, she explains why she wants to take the veil, putting it in terms of love, the exclusive love of man and woman in a sacramental bond. Michele dismisses her explanation as that of a simple-minded child, and he asks her why God would choose her out of the whole human race. "Perhaps because I love Him," she answers. When he counters that she is speaking as though she loved a human being, she replies, "How else can I love Him since I am human?''8 For Michele, whose approach to love is to use another's body for his own indulgence, such explanations are out-side his experience and therefore meaningless. One lesson any Christian must learn is that in Christ one loves a person, not an idea. Michele can see Annina's desire for union with Christ only as a rejection of him-self. For him, her love for Christ has made God his rival; Review for Religious Michele's own love for Annina bursts forth as hatred for God. Within their neighborhood, which might as well be a village or small town, these impassioned disputes between brother and sister, and between brother and priest, make this opera a story about relationships--and in the end a religious vocation is about one's relationship with family and friends as well as with God. While not referring to The Saint of Bleecker Street by name, Dame Kiri Te Kanawa could well have been describing it when she said that opera explores and illustrates "love, duty, temptation, moral-ity, and strength of character in a closely confined society.''9 In that restricted environment, a small family in an old-fash-ioned ethnic neigh-borhood, Annina falls in love with God and desires to dedicate her life to Him. Menotti's opera shows us a moral struggle, strength of character set amidst ques-tions of duty and love. In short, here we see the basic ingredients of any man or woman's story of discerning a call to religious life. One lesson any Christian must learn is that in Christ one loves a person, not an idea. Menotti's "Amahl" Although Annina does not reveal her vision of the Lord she loves, Menotti gives us a glimpse of Him in another opera, Amahl and the Night Visitors. It has the distinction of being the first opera written for televi-sion, first airing live on Christmas Eve, 1951, on NBC. Whereas the setting for The Saint is the austere inte-rior of a poor apartment building in 1950s Manhattan, 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation 396 Amahl gets its setting from a painting, Hieronymus Bosch's Adoration of the Magi. Menotti had seen it in the Metropolitan Museum of Art and decided that Amahl, a lame shepherd boy, and his widowed mother would live in a decrepit hut somewhere on the way to Bethlehem at the time of Christ, but the stage set and the costumes would be anachronistic, capturing the Renaissance styles of the 15th century. Defying historical accuracy in this way suggests the magical realm of the fairy tale, a level of universal ideals that transcend recorded time. On a cold starry night a poor boy and his mother receive into their home three enigmatic kings and through selfless generosity are graced with a miracle. When it was first produced, Amahl was highly acclaimed, its popularity with critics and audiences assur-ing its repetition each Christmas for ten years. Amahl "isn't sacred music," one recent critic has written, but it is "the modern equivalent of a medieval mystery play.''1° Whether on television or on stage, there have been many other productions of this opera, leading an evangelical magazine to call it "a moving piece of modern American mythology, unfailingly powerful.''11 Let us reflect upon the power of that myth for vocational discernment. One winter's evening Amahl and his mother become unprepared hosts of the Magi as they follow the star to Bethlehem. Menotti draws upon his boyhood memories of the Italian custom at Christmas of men dressed as the Three Kings going round one's town or village and visiting homes in order to bring gifts to the children.!2 Amahl, attracted by Kaspar's caged pet parrot, has an exchange with that King, a duet meant to be comic, but in these days, after the priest scandals with teenage boys, it becomes creepy. After more than fifty years, the opera's innocence has been tarnished. Still, the viewer Review for Religious must try to see it in the spirit of its time and from that perspective learn from its intended message. When Amahl is out of earshot, Melchior carries on a dialogue with the mother. Melchior, a baritone, embodies solemnity, and in that conversation one sees from two angles the object of the Magi's search (and so also of Annina's love). In response to the mother's ques-tions about the mission of the Magi, Melchior asks her, "Have you seen a child the color of wheat, the color of dawn? His eyes are mild, his hands are those of a king, as king he was born," and then asks her, "Have you seen a child the color of earth, the color of thorn? His eyes are sad, his hands are those of the poor, as poor he was born." 13 These contrasting descriptions of the One sought by the Magi reflect the ineffable facets of Christ, and yet the mother recognizes Him. She sees Him first in her own son, but at last, when the Magi depart, she sends Amahl along with them to seek the Child. Once he finds the. Child, Amahl is to give Him thanks and praise for the miracle granted to the crippled boy. Here again the man or woman discerning a religious vocation may see parallels, a parent bravely yet tearfully letting go of a beloved son or daughter who wants to join strangers in the search for God. Catholic critics had accolades for Amahl and for The Saint. Interestingly, none of them considered the place either could have in encouraging vocations to religious life. For example, The Saint of Bleecker Street's "poetic truth," according to Commonweal, "is large and profound," bridging "the alien worlds of pure faith and destructive reason.''~4 Another Catholic magazine noted that the opera had the "stark realism of the Old Testament," with violent obsessions, open religious fer- 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation vor, and sexuality barely beneath the surface, yet these extremes of emotion "are more than balanced by scenes of reverence, even exaltation, and instances of touching human affection.''i5 In the secular press, contemporary critical reactions to The Saint ranged from dismissing it with words like "nonsense" and "bogus,''16 to apprecia-tive appraisals, one quoting Menotti saying, "Whatever you believe, all men know that the love of God is incor-ruptible.''~ 7 Here a word may be in order regarding Menotti's own struggle with belief. Menotti and Belief As a boy Menotti was lame, and he was taken to a Marian shrine, Madonna del Monte, where he received a blessing and was cured.18 As a result, throughout his life he remained fascinated by saints and miracles. Even when he fell away from the church, he believed in God and wrestled with questions of faith. In the early 1950s, when he was mulling over The Saint of Bleecker Street, he decided he needed to meet a saint, so he went to Italy to see Padre Pio. He. attended a morning Mass offered by Padre Pio and then was allowed to meet with him in the friary. After having heard about the priest's uncanny insights and deep spiritual gifts, Menotti was deflated when Padre Pio's counsel amounted to what any priest anywhere could have advised: "God gives you a gift, and you must compose the right music in honor of God." 19 Menotti's disappointment at the seemingly banal words from the holy man echoes that of Naaman the Syrian (2 K 5). The leprous Syrian is told by the prophet Elisha to wash seven times in the River Jordan, a rem-edy that strikes the afflicted man as being too simple and something he could have done back home. It can Review for Religious happen that someone discerning a call to religious life will visit a monastery or religious house and find the daily routine devoid of the heroic penances the idealistic inquirer sometimes imagines necessary. A wise direc-tor, a Don Marco, perhaps, will point out that the daily routine of community life, with its Eucharistic liturgy and the Liturgy of the Hours, will provide sufficient penances. As an adult, Menotti seems not to have partaken often of any of the sacraments of the church, and his ongoing doubts about his faith found expression in his operas, most clearly in The Saint.2° At ninety he spoke about his long interior dialogue with the God whose creed he found difficult to believe in. Musing upon the questions God asked him, he said, "That's the trouble, . . . because I don't know what to answer.''2~ One would be hard put to find a more concise summary of the inner turbulence faced by some men and women discerning a religious calling. Of course, artists working with religious subjects need not be religious people themselves, but often their work arises'from "a collaboration" between the artist and "the religious community of which he is a participating member.''2z Menotti, like Puccini, grew up immersed in the Catholic culture of northern Italy, and both men grappled with that culture when creating their operatic worlds. Part of their struggle derived from their lives within the secular culture of fame and fortune. Puccini, though, unlike Menotti, was close friends with his par- "God gives you a gift, and you must compose the right music in honor of God." 399 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation 4oo.1 ish priest, a former army chaplain who loved music.23 As this essay has argued, noble music and revealed religion can complement one another, in particular when a man or woman is discerning a religious vocation. Liberated Imagination--and Faith Charles Moore has hailed opera's ability to "liberate the imagination," and he rejoiced in its "discerning. the basic rhythms of human hopes, fears, and desires.''z4 The value of opera for vocational discernment is in its ability to show us another dimension to the human experience. As with other performances in the theater or on film, one must willingly suspend disbelief when watching an opera; that suspension is even greater in opera, for what would otherwise be spoken dialogue or soliloquies are sung. Such suspending of disbelief leaves behind the normal routines we accept as ordinary real-ity and exposes us to distilled human passions. Whether those passions are those of a Tosca or an Annina, an Amahl or a Melchior, they may transport us to a height from which we may see more clearly the way to respond to the call to holiness. Let us look again at Tosca in contrast to Annina. Meant to be larger than life, Puccini's character of Floria Tosca is a famous opera singer in Rome, and the opera bearing her name opens in June of 1800 in a side chapel of Rome's baroque church of Sant' Andrea della Valle. Tosca's beloved, an artist who reads Voltaire, is painting an image of St. Mary Magdalene, and nearby is a statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Tosca, a pious narcissist, makes a grand entrance and lays a bouquet at the feet of the Virgin. When she realizes that the model for the Magdalene is the sister of a Napoleonic revolu-tionary, her jealousy flares up. Such radical associations Review for Religious snare Tosca and her lover in a nightmarish entangle-ment with a corrupt police force. Both are arrested and found guilty without a trial. When interrogated and tormented by Baron Scarpia, the lecherous and sadistic chief of police, Tosca sings of her.faith being rewarded with suffering, but part of her suffering is self-inflicted. She has been devout and gen-erous, it is true, but she has a rationalist for a boyfriend and expects deference because of her fame as a singer. Her heart is divided, always a path to tragedy. Tosca, unlike Mary Magdalene, has not had her demons cast out; rather, they pursue her to a fatal end. In stark contrast to the vain and worldly Tosca, Annina appears as a model of humility. Her faith opens her to suffering, which she bears for her Beloved. Menotti shows Annina wholly dedicated to seeking God and being united to Him, and she must face a brother whose unexamined fear and carnal desires become masks for the false god of the self. Tosca offers flowers to the Virgin, but Annina shares the Virgin Mary's openness to God's call. Like Mary Magdalene, Annina would be willing to sit by the empty tomb, staring into the abyss where He had been. A :nan or woman facing the possibility of a religious vocation must be aware of the Tosca within each of us, while desiring to grow into something of an Annina. The call to be a religious is the Holy Spirit first beckoning and then giving the grace to yearn to see that there is more to life than creature comforts and the cheers of the crowd. Menotff shows Annina wholly dedicated to seeking God and being united to Him 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation One way of understanding the verismo genre used by Puccini and Menotti is to see it as "concerned with common people and their preoccupations, rather than the trials and passions of aristocrats.''25 On one level, Tosca is about two lovers caught in the middle of politi-cal turmoil; on another, as we have seen, it is about a woman of faith in profound crisis. Menotti's operas discussed here are about simple people caught off guard by the arrival in their lives of the Son of God. From studying the history of the church, one learns that such complications occur in the lives of aristocrats and com-mon people as well. Opera, likewise the realm of all who are open to its riches, can help an aspiring religious see anew the gospel call to seek the One who is dawn and earth, wheat and thorn, poverty and royalty, all in all. Notes ' Daniel J. Wakin, "For Opening Night at the Metropolitan, a New Sound: Booing," New York Times (23 September 2009), p. C- 5; David Patrick Stearns, "Boos for the Met's New 'Tosca' Weren't Off-base," Philadelphia Inquirer (24 September 2009), p. D-l; see also Alex Ross, "Fiasco," New Yorker (5 October 2009): 84-85. 2 See John Anthony Davis, "The Political and Cultural Worlds of Puccini's Tosca," in Tosca's Prism: Three Moments in Western Cultural History, ed. Deborah Burton et al. (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 2005), pp. 135-144; Susan Vandiver Nicassio, "The Eternal Politics of Tosca," in Tosca's Prism, pp. 249-252; H. Wendell Howard, "Suor Angelica: Puccini's Catholic Opera," Logos 1 (Fall 1998): 94- 103. 3 Charles Reid, "Gian-Carlo Menotti," Tablet (20 October 1956): 319. 4 John Lukacs, "A Night at the Dresden Opera," New Yorker (17 March, 1986): 100; reprinted in Remembered Past, ed. Mark G. Malvasi and Jeffrey O. Nelson (Wilmington: ISI Books, 2005), p. 457. s See John Gruen, Menotti: A Biography (New York: Macmillan, 1978); of the numerous obituaries, see E Paul Driscoll, "Gian Carlo Menotti," Opera News (April 2007): 88. For The Saint of Bleecker Review for Religious Street and Tosca, see Barry Singer, "Changing Fortunes," Opera News 0uly 2007): 50. 6 Gian Carlo Menotti, The Saint of Bleecker Street (New York: G. Schirmer, 1954), act 1, scene 1, p. 14. 7 Menotti, The Saint, act 1, scene 2, p. 23. 8 Menotti, The Saint, p. 22. 9 Kiri Te Kanawa, with Conrad Wilson, Opera for Lovers (London: Headline, 1996), pp. 140-141. ,0 Steve Smith, "A Young Shepherd's Ageless Trek," New York Times (17 December 2007), p. E-5. ~ "Christmas Music," Christian Century (4-17 December 2002): 37. ~2 John Gruen, Menotti, p. 108. ~3 Gian Carlo Menotti, Amahl and the Night Visitors (New York: G. Schirmer, 1951), pp. 20-21. ~4 Richard Hayes, "The Saint of Bleecker Street," Commonweal (4 February 1955): 477. ~s Theophilus Lewis, "Theatre," America (22 January 1955): 434. ~6 Harold Clurman, "Theater," Nation (22 January 1955): 83- 84. ,7 "Successful Saint," Time (10 January 1955): 42; see Irving Kolodin, "Menotti's 'The Saint of Bleecker Street,'" Saturday Review (8 January 1955): 28; Winthrop Sargeant, "Menotti's New Opera," New Yorker (8 January 1955): 74-76; "A Saint Sings in Menotti's Best," Life (14 February 1955): 62-63. 's John Gruen, Menotti, p. 109; see Robert R. Reilly, "Gian Carlo Menotti's Heavenly Muse," Crisis (May 2001): 38. 19 Reilly, "Heavenly Muse," Crisis (May 2001): 39; see Gruen, Menotti, pp. 120-122 and 131. 20 See Gruen, Menotti, p. 166. 2~ Reilly, "Heavenly Muse," Crisis (May 2001): 38. 22 Michael Linton, "Moses at the Met," First Things 98 (December 1999): 15. 23 See Dante Del Fiorentino, Immortal Bohemian: An Intimate Memoir of Giacomo Puccini (New York: Prentice-Hall, 1952); Jane Phillips, "Puccini and the Priest," Opera News (12 March 1951): 26-28; Mary Jane Phillips-Matz, Puccini: A Biography (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 2002), pp. 258-259. 403 69.4 2010 Heisey ¯ Operatic Discernment of a Vocation 24 Charles Moore, "The Fantastic Power of Opera to Fly Free," Daily Telegraph (21 July 2009): 19. 25 Johanna Fiedler, Molto Agitato: The Mayhem Behind the Music at the Metropolitan Opera (New York: Doubleday, 2001), p. 79; see Joseph Volpe, with Charles Michener, The Toughest Show on Earth: My Rise and Reign at the Metropolitan Opera (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 2006), p. 167: "The characters aren't gods or monsters, they're people caught up in the moral and political issues of their time." Personal Reflection [ Group Discussion 1. What are the ways or method that I have used in making a discerned decision? 2. How has Heisey in using opera as a help in discerning given me new ways of entering into discernment? 404] Review for Religious JAMES H. KROEGER Searching for Jesus at Christmas Once or twice a year, usually around the season of Christmas or Easter, many news-papers and popular newsmagazines (Time or Newsweek) present an article on some aspect of Jesus or the Judaeo-Christian faith. Often these features try to pique readers' interest by using attention-grabbing headlines. They ask: What is the true Christmas Story? Why did Jesus have to die? How do Jews, Muslims, and Buddhists view Jesus? Who was the real Jesus? Often the articles claim to provide new and recent discoveries into the person and identity of Jesus. Believing Christians can read these presen-tations with interest, but they should realize lighting the way James H. Kroeger MM, a Maryknoll missioner, has served in Asia (Philippines and Bangladesh), since his 1970 arrival in the Orient. Currently he teaches at the Pontifical Faculty of Theology at Loyola School of Theology of the Ateneo de Manila University as well as at the Mother of Life Catechetical Center. He can be reached at: 68.4 2009 Kroeger ¯ Searcbing for Jesus at Christmas that such popular portrayals of Jesus will probably add little insight into their knowledge and practice of the faith. One need not be alarmed by these magazine arti-cles. Actually, the popularity of such material shows the continuing interest on a broad public scale in the person and mission of Jesus. Also, as adult believers, we admit that we do have many recurring questions about Jesus and his meaning for our lives and for the life of the world. Where can we and should we look for answers to our questions? Where should we search? At this point, I offer a word of disclosure, telling you who I am. Thus, what I write in this presentation, which will explore some difficult questions, will be anchored into a solid foundation. I am a man of faith, a Catholic priest, serving in the Philippines for four decades. I have taught Christology [theology of the person and mission of Jesus Christ] for over thirty years in several schools of theology, major seminaries, and catechetical centers. My personal library contains well over one hundred books on Christology, and I have published numerous articles and books on the subject. In short, I write as a believer, a man of the church. Beginning the Search For Christians, the primary written source of faith in the person of Jesus is sacred scripture, the Gospels in particular. We rely on four books included in the New Testament: the Gospels of Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. Just about everything that the Christian church teaches about J~sus comes through the Gospels. These Gospels, in turn, serve as a criterion of truth and authenticity for the church's teaching about Jesus. Because the Gospels are the central sources for understanding Jesus, one has to ask: What is a Gospel? Review for Religious Parenthetically, readers will note that before addressing specific questions about Jesus, it is necessary to exam-ine some general foundations upon which our faith is based. "Gospel" derives from Old English meaning "good spell/news"; this translates the Greek eu (good) and angelion (news, announcement). As "good news" the Gospels communicate the message of God's saving action in Christ and the accounts of Jesus' activity pro-duced by the early church. A Gospel is a very unique kind of written literature; it is a genre of writing that is different from other liter-ary forms. Thus, a Gospel is not simply a "biography" in the modern sense of that term (a detailed account of someone's life); it is also not "history" in the sense of a chronological presen-tation of a series of events. Yet, the Gospels contain both bio-graphical and historical elements. However, Gospels are written from another perspective and with another motive in mind. Simply, a Gospel can be described as a "faith sum-mary." Gospels contain material that will lead readers to know and love--in faith--the person of Jesus. This means that biographical and historical materials are at the service of the primary purpose of the Gospels: com- ¯ ing to a loving knowledge and experience of Jesus. The Gospels aim to help us in knowing and encountering Jesus personally, not just knowing many factual details about him. Another simple way to express the nature of the Gospels is to accept that they were written "from faith to faith." The Gospels emerged from the living faith of Simply, a Gospel can, be described as a "faith summary. " 407 69.4 2010 Kroeger * Searching for Jesus at Christmas 408 the evangelists and the early church. They were written to faith, to engender and strengthen the faith of believers. The evangelists (Gospel writers) did not intend to sup-ply every detail about the life of Jesus; rather, they chose to include those stories which would best serve the "promotion of the faith." At heart, Gospels are "proc-lamation not biography or history." This insight is well expressed, by:John the Evangelist: "There were many other signs that Jesus worked and the disciples saw, but they are not recorded in this book. These are recorded so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing this you may have life through his name" On 20:30-31). Composing Gospels Related to the nature and purpose of the Gospels, questions may arise about how and when the Gospels were written. Here the Catholic Church has provided solid guidance on the actual "writing process," explaining the "coming-to-be" of the four Gospels that we accept as the inspired Word of God. Again, this background material will serve to anchor our many "Christmas-time questions" about the person of Jesus, questions which will be addressed in the later part of this presentation. Christians believe that the authors of the Bible (both Old and New Testaments) were inspired, or guided, by the Holy Spirit. According to Roman Catholic theol-ogy, this does not mean that God spoke to the bib-lical authors directly, as one might dictate a letter to a secretary. Neither did the evangelists have modern equipment such as a tape recorder to capture the verba-tim words of Jesus. Rather, our church holds that these inspired texts are writings whose authors, prompted by the Holy Spirit, convey God's revealed truth using their Review for Religious own abilities, words, and styles. This is clearly evident in each of the four Gospels; for example, John's literary style differs from that of Matthew, Mark, and Luke. In short, scripture contains "God's Word in human words." God is the ultimate author of the scriptures; the truth that God conveys in and through them is reliable; we can securely build our faith upon these written scrip-tures as they are interpreted within the faith community of the church. It is this same Catholic Church that encourages the use of historical-critical scholarship to better pen-etrate the full meani.ng . of God's Word. Since ' ~ the 1943 magna carta of Catholic biblical schol-arship (Divino Afflante Spiritu), scripture stud-ies have flourished in the church--all to the benefit of believers. The church encourages . its biblical scholars and theologians to employ "scien-tific" approaches to delve deeper into the full meaning of God's revealed message in the scriptures. The church accepts that the Gospels are, in fact, not literal, chronological accounts of the words and deeds of Jesus. Our Gospels are the products of a faith-devel-opment !n early Christianity. They emerged through a three-stage process that moves (a) from the ministry and oral preaching of Jesus, (b) through the oral preaching of the apostles, and (c) finally to the actual writing of the Gospels as we know them. This understanding is echoed in the revelation document coming from the Second Vatican Council. This fact does not imply in any Our Gospels are the products of a faith-development in early Christianity. 69.4 2010 Kroeger ¯ Searcbing for ~esus at Christmas sense that the Gospels are not reliable sources. Today it is generally accepted that the Gospels were written in this order: Mark (60s), Matthew and Luke (70s-80s), and John (90s). Are Gospels Historical? Although there are difficult questions that do not admit of easy, brief answers, we must, in order to pro-mote our faith, struggle to respond to them. On the question of the historical nature of the Gospels [this will directly affect our understanding of the Christmas stories], we can get help by using two German words that give us insight into the nature of history. History can validly be understood through two dif-ferent, yet interrelated, perspectives. Historisch (his-torical) designates the facts of the past that can be demonstrated by documents and critically analyzed by the methods of scientific history. Geschichtlich (historic) refers to the same event(s) but focuses on the signifi-cance and importance of that fact for a certain group of people. In simpler language, historisch focuses on the plain historical data [what happened], whereas geschicht-lich seeks its deeper significance [what meaning does it have]. Some simple examples may prove helpful. As a mis-sionary in the Philippines for forty years, there are sev-eral dates that are important for me (and all Filipinos), but they would have no significance--even for. my own siblings who live in the United States. For Filipinos, 30 December 1896, is significant; it is the death of Jose Rizal, our national hero. The proclamation of Martial Law happened on 21 September 1972--with grave con-sequences for Filipinos. Ninoy Aquino was assassinated on 21 August 1983; the EDSA (Epifanio de Los Santos Review for Religious Avenue, Quezon City, Manila) "people-power" revolu-tion unfolded in 22-25 February 1986; Cory Aquino died on 1 August 2009. Most Filipinos know these dates almost instinctively. Yet, these same events would not be remembered by someone from Italy, Canada, or Indonesia. Here we see the importance and difference between historisch and geschichtlich. The historical facts and dates I have just mentioned are true, factual history. However, they have special meaning and importance only for Filipinos; they are seared into the consciousness of the Filipino peo-ple. While true facts of history, they mean little or nothing to non-Filipinos. Similarly, the Gospels have significant meaning--but only for believing Christians. Evangelists: Pastoral Theologians Moving back to our discussion of the Gospels, we come to appreciate that the evangelists were not pri-marily interested in presenting a detailed historical chronology of Jesus' life; nor were they interested in providing a comprehensive biography of Jesus and his family. The Gospel writers focused primarily on pre-senting the importance and meaning of Jesus for believ-ing Christians. Thus, while not denying or falsifying the historisch (historical data and facts), the main interest of the Gospels is to show the geschichtlich (significance) of this man Jesus for us and for our salvation. The Gospel writers focused primarily on promoting faith in Jesus; that is why the Gospels are not primarily history or biography. They are "faith summaries"; they are written based on the evangelists' faith with the purpose that we too would come to faith in Jesus. To achieve this goal of "faith promotion," each evan-gelist shaped his Gospel differently. Matthew, writing for 411 69.4 2010 Kroeger * Searching for Jesus at Cbristmas Jewish Christians, often demonstrates by the use of Old Testament quotations that the scriptures are fulfilled in the person and work of Jesus. Mark seeks to emphasize that Jesus is manifested as the crucified Messiah, fre-quently rejected by the people. Luke's Gospel is shaped by his religious mentality; he is a faithful recorder of Jesus' loving-kindness. The whole of John's thought is dominated by the mystery of the Incarnation. Each of the Gospels is unique and adopts varied theological emphases, while remaining focused on the person of Jesus. This was done so that the mes-sage of Jesus would bet- Each of theGospels is unique and adopts varied theological emphases, while remaining focused on the person of ]egus. ter reach the intended audience. In this sense, I call the evangelists "pastoral theologians,'~ because they pastorally shaped and focused their theological mes-sage with their audience in mind. Matthew, for example, quoted the Old Testament frequently so that his Jewish Christian audience would more easily come to faith in Jesus. Although we have four canoni-cal Gospels, they all coalesce to produce an integrated Gospel portrait of the person of Jesus. 412]

Issue 33.5 of the Review for Religious, 1974. ; Review lot 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 ~) 1974 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. R. F. Smith, S.J. Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor September 1974 Volume 33 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. Papal Bull Holy Year Proclaiming the Paul VI Given below is the English translation of Paul VI's Bull proclaiming the Holy Year that will begin on Christmas Eve, 1974. The translation is that which appeared in the English edition of Osservatore romano. Paul, servant of the servants of God, to all the faithful: Health and apostolic blessing. As the universal jubilee to be celebrated in Rome approaches, the memorials of the Apostles shine forth more brightly for the faithful as the goal of pilgrimage--the holy places of Rome where the tombs of the Apostles Peter and Paul are worthily preserved and religiously venerated, those "holy fathers" through whom the ~ity became not only the "diSciple of truth" but also the teacher of truth1 and the center of Catholic unity. Down the centuries, these memorials have always impelled the Chris-tian people to be fervent in their faith and to testify to ecclesial communion. This is so because the Church recognizes her identity and the cause of her unity in the foundation laid .by Jesus Christ, namely, the Apostles." From as early as the second century the faithful came to Rome to see and venerate the "trQphies" of the Apostles Peter and Paul in those very places where they are preserved,:' and they. made pilgrimages to the church of Rome to contemplate her "regal dignity."4 In the fourth century the pilgrimage to 1See St. Leo the Great, Sermon 82, 1 : PL 54, 422. ZSee Rev 21 : 14. 3See the testimony of Gaius, an ecclegiastic of the time of Pope Zephrynus, as given in Eusebius, Historia ecclesiastica, II,25,7. 4See the inscription of Abercius, bishop of Hierapolis in Phrygia at the end of the second century; the text and translation is given in M. Guarducci, "L'iscrizione di Abercio," Ancient Society, v. 2 (1971), pp. 176-7. 993 994 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 Rome became in the West the principal form of that kind of religious journey. It was similar to, and had the same religious purpose as, the pil-grimage which was made in the East to Jerusalem where the Lord's sepulchre is found? In the early Middle Ages, those who were "linked to the Chair of Peter,'''~ and those who wished to make a profession of their orthodox faith at the tombs of the Apostles,; especially monks, came off pilgrimage to Rome from various parts of Europe and even from the East. The idea of a pilgrimage increased further from the 12th to the 13th century, becoming all the more common by reason of a renewal of spirituality and popular piety which spread throughout Europe at that time. This renewal served to enrich the ancient notion which the Church received from tradition and which was equally 1~o be found in other religions, namely, the concept of a "pilgrimage undertaken for the love ot~ God.''s The jubilee year originated in this way; it was as it were the result of a maturing process in the doctrinal; Biblical and theological fields.:' It emerged plainly for the first time in the year 1220 when our predecessor Honorius III proclaimed a jubilee.year for pilgrimage to the tomb of St. Thomas ~ Becket.1° Later, as is well known, pilgrims came to Rome to the basilicas of St. Peter and St. Paul, in the great popular and penitential movement of the year 1300, a movement confirmed by our predecessor Boniface VIII.11 This was marked by a longing to obtain pardon from God and peace among men. The move-ment was directed to this very lofty motive: "the glory of God and the exaltation of the faith.''1~ The Roman Jubilee of 1300 was the beginning and the pattern for those which have followed (every 25 years from the, 15th century onwards, except when the series was interrupted by extraneous circumstances). This is an indication of the continuity and vitality v~hich have always confirmed the relevance of this venerable institution for every age. It is correct to say that the jubilees celebrated in recent times have pre- ~See St. Maximus of Turin, Homily 72: PL 57, 405b. GThe expression is found in a letter of St. Columban to Pope Boniface IV in 613: Sancti Columbani opera ed. G. S. M. Walder (Dublin, 1957), p. 48. rConcerning this custom see F. M. Mignanti, lstoria della sacrosanta Basilica Vaticana (Rome/Turin, 1867), p. 180. 8See in general B. Kotting, Peregrinatio religiosa: Wall]ahrten in der Antike und das Pilgerwesen in der Alten Kirche (Regensburg, 1950). ~R. Foreville, "L'id6e de jubil6 chez les th6ologiens et les canonistes (XII-XIII s.) avant l'institution du Jubil6 Romain (1300)," Revue d'histoire eccl~siastique, v. 56 (1961), pp. 401-23. 10p. Pressuti, Regesta Honorii 1H (Rome, 1888-95), p. 1840; the text is given in R. Foreville, "Le Jubil6 de saint Thomas b. Becket du XIII au XV sii~cle (1220-1470)," Etudes et documents (Paris, 1958), pp. 163-4. alBull, Antiquorum habet fida relatio, dated February 22, 1300: Extravagantes Comm. V,IX, I. ~zSee the gloss of Cardinal Giovanni Monaco on the same bull. Papal Bull Proclaiming the Holy Year / 995 served this outstanding value whereby the unity and renewal of the Church aCe affirmed in a special way and allmen are encouraged to recognize one another as brothers and to walk in the path of peace. Such a desire was manifested at the beginning of this century when our predecessor Leo XIII proclaimed' the jubilee year in 1900. The human family was~ filled with the same hopes and expectations when, a,quarter of a century later, afflicted by grave ,dangers and contention, 'it awaited the Holy Year of 1925. These were proposed for the special Holy Year of 1933 on the occasion of the 19th centenary of the redemption. The same noble aspirations for justice and peaceful coexistence among men were put forward by Pius" XII for the last jubilee, in the year 1950. I It seems to us that in the'present Holy Year all the principal and im-portant motives of the previous jubilees are present and expressed in sum-mary form in the .themes that we ourself laid down in our discourse of May 9, 1973 when we first announced ,the Holy Year: renewal and reconcilia-tion. a:~ We have offered these themes for the reflection of pastors and faithful, particularly during the anticipated celebration of the jubilee in local churches, and we have.added to them our exhortations and our catechesis. But the aspirations that the two themes enunciate and the lofty ideals that they express ~vill find a more complete realization in Rome, where pilgrims to the tombs of the Apostles Peter and Paul and to the memorials of the other martyrs will come into more ready contact with the ancient sources of the Church's faith.and life, in order to be converted by repentance, strengthened in charity, hnd united more closely with their brethren by the grace of God. Thi~ renewal and reconciliation pertain in the first place to the interior life, above all because the root of all good and, unfortunately of all evil, is found in the depths of the heart. It is in the depths of the heart therefore that conversions of metanoia must take place, that is, a change of direction, of attitude, of option, of one's way of life. But also for the Church as a whole, ten years after the end of the Second Vatican Council we view the Holy Year as the ending of a period of reflection and reform arid the beginning of a new phase of building up in the theological, spiritual, and pastoral spheres, to be developed on the foundations laboriously laid down and consolidated during the past years; in accordance with the principles of new life in Christ and of the communion of all men in Him who reconciled us to the Father by His blood,a~ For the whole w~arld this call to renewal and reconciliation is in harmony a3See Paul VI, "Allocution Announcing the Plans for a 1975 Holy Year," May 9, 1973: AAS, v. 65 (1973), pp. 322-5. 14See 2 Cor 5:18-20; Rm 5:10. 996 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 with the most sincere aspirations for freedom, justice, unity, and peace that we see wherever men become aware of their most serious problems and suffer from the mishaps produced by divisions and fratricidal wars. With the message of the Holy Year, therefore, the Church wishes to indicate to all men of good will- the vertical dimension of life that ensures reference of all aspirations and experiences to an absolute and truly universal value, without which it is vain to hope that mankind will once more find a point of unification and a guarantee of true freedom. Even though it is charac-teristic of many sectors of modern society to assume secuIar forms, the Church, without interfering in matters which do not come within her competence, nevertheless wishes to impress on men the need to be con-verted to God who alone is necessary,a5 and to imbue all their actions with fear and love of Him. For faith in God is the most powerful safeguard of the human conscience and is the solid foundation of those relationships of justice and brotherhood the world yearns for. The pilgrimage to Rome by representatives of all the local churches, both pastors and people, will therefore be a sign of a new process of conversion and brotherly reconciliation. As the minister of the word and of the grace of reconciliation, we respond to this sign of the interior dispositions of the pilgrims and of the renewed resolve of the Christian people whom they represent, by imparting the gift of the jubilee indulgence, insofar as we are able, to all the pilgrims who come to Rome and to all those who, though prevented from making the journey, accompany them in spirit. II It is well known from the Church's very ancient custom that the indul-gence attached to many penitential practices was granted in a special way as a gift on the occasion of pilgrimages to the places sanctified by the life, passion, and resurrection of our Savior Jesus Christ and by the confession of the Apostles. Today, too, we associate ourself with that venerable tradition, according to the principles and norms that we have ourself laid down in the apostolic constitution Indulgentiarum doctrina~'; and which we wish to recall briefly at this point. Since Christ is our "justice" and, as has been fittingly said, our "indul-gence," we, as the humble minister of Christ the Redeemer, .willingly extend a share in the gift of the indulgence~in accordance with the Church's tradi-tion- to all the faithful who, through a profound conversion of heart to God, through works of penance, piety, and brotherly solidarity, sincerely and fervently attest their desire to remain united in charity with God and l~See Lk 10:42; Mt 6:33. ~6Apostolic Constitution, lndulgentiarum doctrina: AAS v. 59 (1967), pp. 5-24. Papal Bull Proclaiming the Holy Year / 997 their brethren and to make progress in that charity.~: In fact, this sharing comes from the fullness of the treasury of salvation which is primarily found in Christ the Redeemer Himself, "in whom the satisfactions and merits of His redemption subsist in all their value.''xs In this'fullness in Christ, which we have all received,x" there shines forth "the most ancient dogma of the communion of saints, whereby, in Christ and through Christ, the lives of the individual sons of God are linked with the lives of all the other Christian brethren by a marvelous bond in the supernatural unity of the Mystical Body of Christ, as in one mystical person.''~° For, "by the hidden and benevolent mystery of the divine will, men are linked together in a supernatural relationship, whereby just as the sin of one also harms the others, so also the holiness of one is beneficial to the others.'''-'~ By means of the indulgence, the Church, making use of her power as minis-ter of the redemption of Christ the Lord, communicates to the faithful a sharing in this fullness of Christ in the communion of saints,'-"-' providing them with the ample means of salvation. Thus the Church, aiding and embracing them like a mother, sustains her weak and infirm children, who.find a firm support in the Mystical Body of Christ, which in its entirety works for their conversion through charity, example, and prayer. Thus penitents find in this singular form of ecclesial charity a powerful aid to help them put off the old man and put on the new. Conversion and renewal consist precisely in this.'-':' In fact, the Church's aim in granting indulgences is not only that of helping the faithful expiate the punishment they have deserved but also that of stimulating them to carry out works of piety, penance, and charity, and in particular works that serve to favor the growth of faith and the common good.~' III For this reason, interpreting.as it were the Church's maternal sentiments, we impart the gift of the plenary indulgence to all the faithful who are prop-erly disposed, and who, after confessing their sins and receiving Holy Communion, pray for the intentions of the supreme pontiff and the college of bishops: 1:See Paul V1, Letter to Cardinal de Fiirstenburg Officially Announcing the Beginning o! the 1975 Holy Year, dated May 31, 1973: AAS, v. 65 (1973), pp. 357-60. ~SApostolic Constitution, lhdulgentiarum doctrina, 5: AAS, v. 59 (1967), p. 11. ~gSee Jn 1:16. -~0Apostolic Constitution, lndulgentiarum doctrina, 5: AAS, v. 59 (1967), pp. 10-1; and see St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae, III,q.48,a.2 adl; and q.49,a.l. ZlApostolic constitution, lndulgentiarum doctrina, 4: AAS, v. 59 (1967), p. 9. '-'Zlbid., 8: AAS, v. 59 (1967), p. 16. '-':~See Paul VI, Letter to Father 'Constantine Koser on the 750th Anniversary o] the Portiuncula Indulgence, dated July 14, 1966: AAS, v. 58 (1966), pp. 631-4. z4See the Apostolic Constitution, lndulgentiarum doctrina, 8: AAS, v. 59 (1967), p. 17. 998 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 (1) If they undertake a sacred pilgrimage to one of the patriarchal basilicas (the basilica of St. Peter's in the Vatican,,St. Paul's Outside-the- Walls, ttie Lateran Archbasilica of the Most Holy Savior, or St. Mary Major), or to some other church or place of the city of Rome designated by the competent authority, and devoutly take part in a liturgical celebration there, especially the Sacrifice of the Mass, or some exercise of piety (e.g., the way bf the cross, the rosary); (2) If they visit, in a group or individually, one of the four patri-archal basilicas and spend some time there in devout recollection concluding with the Our Father, the profession of faith in. any approved form, and a prayer to the Blessed Virgin Mary; (3) If, being prevented by illness or some other grave reason from going on a pilgrimage to Rome, they unite themselves spiritually with this pilgrim-age and offer their prayers and sufferings to God; (4) If, being prevented while in Rome. by illness or some other grave reason from taking part in a liturgical celebration or exercise of piety or visit made by their group (ecclesial family or social, as mentioned in 1 and 2 above), they unite themselves spiritually with the group and offer their prayers and suffering to God. During the Holy Year, moreover, the other concessions of indulgences remain in force, with the proviso as before that a plenary indulgence can be gained only once a day;~'' however, all indulgences can always be applied tb the dead in modo suffragii."-''~ For the same reasons, namely, in order that the faithful be provided with ¯ every possible aid to salvation, and to help priests, especially confessors, we proclaim that confessors taking part "in the jubilee pilgrimage may use the faculties they have been given in their own dioceses by the legitimate au-thority,~ so that both on the journey and in Rome they may hear the con-fessions of the faithful accompanying them on the pilgrimage, and also the confessions ot~ others who, together with the members of their own group, may approach them. The right of the penitentiaries of the patriarchal basilicas regarding the confessionals reserved to them is maintained,'-'~ and special faculties will be granted by the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary to the penitentiaries. IV We stated above that the following two principal purposes have been established for the Holy Year: spiritual renewal in Christ and reconciliation with God, and we have said that these aims concern not only the interior '-',~See Enchiridion indulgentiarum, norma 24, para. 1. ~Ibid. norma 4. ~zSee Paul VI's motu proprio, Pastorale munus, I, 14: AAS, v. 56 (1964), p. 8. "-SSee First Synod o] Rome, 1960, art. 63. Papal Bull Proclaiming the Holy Year / 999 life of each individual but the whole Church, and also, .in a certain sense, the whole of human society. For this reason we earnestly exhort all con-cerned to consider these proposals, to undertake initiativ,es and to coordinate programs so that during the Holy Year real progress may be made in the renewal of the Church and also in the pursuit of certain goals very dear to us, in accordance with the farsighted spirit of the Second Vatican Ecu-menical Council. Repentance, the purification of the heart, and conversion to God must consequently bring about an increase in the apostolic activities of the Church. During the Holy Year, therefore, generous efforts must be made to further evangelization, which is certainly the first of all the activities to be promoted. For the pilgrim Church "has been divinely sent to all nations that she might be 'the universal sacrament of salvation' "'-'~' and she "is by her very nature mis.sionary,' . and in the course of her history is renewed to the extent that she shows herself ready to accept and to deepen through faith the gospel of Jesus Christ the Son of God, and to proclaim His saving message to men by word and the witness of her life. The coming assembly of the Synod of Bishops does not have a merely extrinsic and fortuitous connection with the Holy Year.-On the contrary, as we have already stated, "a zealous effort must be made to coordinate and closely link both these ecclesial events.'':~ In this regard the Synod will pro-pose directives and suggestions for the reflection of pastors gathered about the supreme pontiff, so that they may carefully consider in the light of faith "the evangelization of the modern world," taking into account, in the light of the charity of Christ, the wishes of the whole Church and the more urgent needs of our time. Therefore devout attention to the word of God together with catechetical instruction given to the faithful of every state and of all ages must lead Christians to purify their way of life and to a higher knowledge of faith; it must dispel doubts and stimulate the negligent to joyfully activate in their lives the gospel message; it must impel everyone towards a conscious and fruitful sharing in the sacraments; it must encourage communities and indi-viduals to give witness to the faith by the uprightness and strength .of their lives, so that the world may see the reason for the hope that is in us.:"-' Now ten years after the SecQnd Vatican Council began, the great and salutary work of renewal in the fields of the pastoral ministry, the practice of penance, and the sacred liturgy, we consider it altogether fitting that this z~Vatican Council II, Ad gentes divinitus (Decree on the Missionary Activity o] the Church), I: AAS, v. 58 (1966), p. 947. :"qbid., 2: AAS, v. 58 (1966), p. 948. :;~"Discourse to the General Secretariat of the Synod of Bishops," Osservatore romano, April 6, 1974, p. 4. :~See 1 Pt 3:15. 1000 / Review jor Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 work should be reviewed and furthered. If what the Church has clearly approved is kept in mind, it will be possible to recognize the valid and legitimate elements to be found in the many and varied experiments that have been carried out everywhere. Similarly, these same elements can, by a more earnest effort, be put into practice in accordance with the norms and principles suggested by pastoral prudence and a sense of true piety. The presence of large numbers of pilgrims, both pastors and people, from Christian communities throughout the world, brought together in Rome by a fraternal desire to gain the true benefits of the grace and love of Christ, will undoubtedly afford excellent opportunities for putting forward, comparing, and evaluating studies and viewpoints of various kinds. This will most cer-tainly bc the case if congresscs and meetings are held at different levels in the ecclesial community and by varied groups of experts, and provided that prayer and a ready willingness to carry out the apostolate are joined together. At this point we wish to draw particular attention to the need to find a just and proper balance between the differing demands of the pastoral min-istry today, a balance similar to that which has been admirably achieved in the sacrcd liturgy. We refer to the balance between tradition and renewal, b~twccn the necegsarily religious nature of the Christian apostolate and its effectivencss as a force in all fields of social living, between free and spon-taneous activity--which some are accustomed to call charismatic--in this a.postolate and fidelity to laws based on the commands of Christ and of the pastors of the Church. For these laws, laid down by the Church and con-tinually brought up to date, make allowance for individual experiments within the Christian community, in such a way that they are a help in build-ing up the body of Christ, which is the Church, and not a hindranceY:' We wish likewise to draw attention to the ever increasing need to pro-mote the kind of apostolate which, without damaging the Church's necessary and traditional institutions, namely dioceses and parishes, takes special account of particular local circumstances and categories of people. Such an apostolate must ensure that the leaven of the gospel permeates those forms of modern social living which often differ from traditional forms of ecclesial life and seem foreign to the communities "in which the faithful gather to-gether and are linked" in prayer, faith, and charity. The forms we are thinking of are principally those of workers, members of the academic world, and young people. It will also be necessary to examine carefully the methods of teaching religion and of preaching the sacred word of God, to insure that they meet the needs of our time. This mt~st be done with the aim of finding effective methods. Special care must be taken to insure that the media of social com-munications promote the human and Christian progress both of individuals and of communities. :~.aSee Rm 15:2; 1 Cor. 14:3; Eph. 4:12. Papal Bull Proclaiming the Holy Year / 1001 These are questions of the greatest seriousness and importance. We must face up to them and with humble prayer seek the grace of the Holy Year in order to solve them. V As is well known, i~ recent years one of the Church's most pressing con-cerns has been to disseminate everywhere a message of charity, of social awareness, and of peace, and to promote, as far as she can, works of justice and solidarity among all men, whether individuals, social groups, or peoples. We earnestly desire, therefore, that the Holy Year, through the works of charity which it suggests to the faithful and which it asks of them, should be an opportune time for strengthening and supporting the moral conscious-ness of all the faithful and of that wider community of all men which the message of the Church can reach if an earnest effort is made. The ancient origins of the jubilee as seen in the laws and institutions of Israel clearly show that this social dimension is part of its very nature. In fact, as we read in the Book of Leviticus,:" the jubilee year, precisely be-cause it was dedicated in a special way to God, involved a new ordering of all things that were recognized as belonging to God: the .land, which was al-lowed to lie fallow and was given back to its former owners; economic goods, insofar as debts were remitted; and, above all, man, whose dignity and free-dom were reaffirmed in a special way by the emancipation of slaves. The year of God, then, was also the year of man, the year of the earth, the year of the poor, and upon this view of the whole of human reality there shone a new light which emanated from the clear recognition of the supreme dominion of God over the whole of creation. In today's world also the problems which most disturb and torment mankind--economic and social questions, the question of ecology and sources of energy, and above all that of the liberation of the oppressed and the uplifting of all men to a new dignity of life-~can have light cast on them by the message of the Holy Year. We wish, however, to invite all the sons and daughters of the Church, and especially the pilgrims coming to Rome, to undertake certain definite tasks which, as successor of Peter and head of that church "which presides over the universal gathering of charity,'':~' we now publicly propose and com-mend to all. We refer to the carrying out of works of faith and charity for the benefit of our needy brethren in Rome and in other chu'rches of the world. These works will not necessarily be grandiose ones, although such are.in no way to be excluded. In many cases what are today called "micro-realizations" will be sufficient, corresponding as they do to the gospel spirit of charity. In this field the Church, in view of the modest resources at her :~"Lv 25: 8ff. :~r'See St. Ignatius of Antioch, Epistle to the Romans, salutation: Funk, v. 1, p. 252. 1002 / Review jot Religious, Volume .33, 1974/5 disposal, will perhaps have to limit herself more and more to giving men nothing more than the widow's mite.:"~ But she knows and teaches that the good which counts most is that which, in humble and very often unknown ways, manages to provide help where there is a small need and to heal small wounds--things which often find no place in large projects of social reform. Nevertheless, the Church feels that it is necessary to give encourage-ment also to these larger programs for promoting justice and the progress of peoples. She renews her call to all those who have the power and the duty to build up in the world a more perfect order of social and human relations, urging them not to give up because of the difficulties of the present times and not to be won over by selfish interests. Once more we make a particularly strong appeal on behalf of developing countries and of people still afflicted by hunger and by war. Let special attention be given to the many needs which oppress man today, to the finding of employment by which men can provide for the needs of life, to housing which so many lack, to schools which need much assistance, to social and medical aid, and to the develop-ment and safeguarding of decent public moral standards. We should like also to express the humble and sincere desire that in this present Holy Year, too, in accordance with the tradition of previous jubilees, the proper authorities of the different nations should consider the possibility of wisely granting an amnesty to prisoners, as a witness of clemency and equity, especially to those who have given sufficient proof of moral and civic rehabilitation, or who may have been caught up in political and social upheavals too immense for them to be held fully responsible. We express in anticipation our gratitude ~ind invoke the Lord's abundant blessings on all those who will strive to insure that this message of charity, of social awareness, and of freedom, which the Church addresses to all men in the lively hope that she may be understood and listened to, is ac-cepted and translated into reality in the political and social order. In express-ing this hope we are conscious of following a wonderful tradition which began with the law of Israel and found its fullest expression in our Lord Jesus Christ who, from the very beginning Of His ministry, presented Him-self as the fulfillment of the ancient promises and figures connected with the jubilee year: "The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to free those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord.'':~: Vl If there is one spiritual advantage which we especially desire from the :";See Lk 21:2; Mk 12:42. ZrLk 4:18-9. Papal Bull Proclabning the Holy Year / 1003 celebration of the Holy Year, .it is an increase in the number of those who devote their lives to serving the Church, especially priests and religious. For in order that the paths of grace and the means of salvation which the Holy Year indicates and offers to all the faithful may be properly explained and made available, there will always be a need for those sacred ministers and witnesses of Christ's gospel who by completely following the Lord show their fellowmen, namely the men of this and subsequent ages, the way of penance and of holiness. Thus, the voice of God must be listened to diligently. He never ceases to stir up and invite chosen individuals to dedicate themselves generously to the .service of the Church and the whole human race by the exercise of the priestly ministry and by the faithful witness of the religious life. Some will be called by God to offer themselves to Him through obedience and sacred celibacy and as priests of Christ to teach and sanctify and lead the faithful wherever they may be. Others, men and women of various ages and conditions, will be attracted to the religious life, so that by fulfilling their baptismal promises through a higher way of life they may fully live in the spirit and truly benefit the Church and society. We desire strongly that the multitude of these especially dear members of the Church may increase and flourish more and more, so that through their priesthood and t~e~activity of their religious life they may bear the joyful message of Christ to the ends of the earth and all give glory to the heavenly Father. VII Finally, we wish to proclaim and preach that the reconciliation of Chris-tians is one of the principal aims of the Holy Year. For, before all men can be brought together and restored to the grace of God our Father, com-munion must be reestablished between those who by faith have acknowl-edged and accepted Jesus Christ as the Lord of Mercy who sets men i~ree and unites them in the spirit of love and truth. For this reason the jubilee year, which the Catholic Church has accepted as part of her own custom and tradition, can serve as a most opportune period for spiritual renewal and for the promotion of Christian unity. We would, moreover, point out that the Second Vatican Council has taught that every effort and undertaking directed toward the reconciliation of Christians and all true ecumenism must necessarily start from an inner conversion of the heart, since the desire for Christian communion springs and grows from spiritual renewal, self-denial, the full exercise of charity, and fidelity to revealed truth?~ It is here that there is to be found the full and proper realization of the whole ecumenical movement to which the Catholic Church adheres as far as she is able, and through which Churches and communities not yet fully .~sSee Unitatis redintegratio (Decree on Ecumenism), 7: AAS, v. 57 (1965), p. 97. 1004 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 in communion with the Apostolic See seek and desire the perfect unity willed by Christ. It is in fact the task and duty of the whole Church to reestablish this unity in full ecclesial communion.:'~' The year of grace, in this sense, provides an opportunity for doing special penance for the divisions which exist among Christians; it offers an occasion for renewal in the sense of a heightened experience of holiness of life in Christ; it allows progi'ess toward that hoped for reconciliation by intensified dialogue and concrete Christian collaboration in the salvation of the world: "that they also may be one in us, so that the world may believe.'''~ We have expressed once more our intentions and our desires concerning the celebration of the Holy Year in this city of Rome. Now we invite our brothers in the episcopate and all the pastors and faithful of the churches throughout .the world, of those churches also which are not in full communion with the Roman Church, and indeed all who believe in God, to participate at least spiritually in this feast of grace and redemption, in which Christ offers Himself as the teacher of life. Together with the pastors and faithful on pilgrimage to the tombs of the Apostles and the early martyrs, we desire to profess faith in God the almighty and merciful Father and in Jesus Christ our Redeemer. For our part we would hope that all who come to Rome to see Peter'1 may through us experience in the Holy Year the truth of the words of St. Leo the Great: "For in the whole church Peter repeats each day, 'You are Christ the Son of the living God,' and every tongue which confesses the Lord is inspired by the teaching of this voice.'"': We would wish also that through our ministry and that of our brother priests a huge multitude of faithful may come to the sources of salvation.":' May the holy door which we shall open on the night of Christmas Eve be a sure sign of this new approach to Christ who alone is the way"" and the door.4'~ It will be a sure sign too of the paternal affection with which, filled with love and desiring peace, we open our heart to all. We implore the Blessed Virgin Mary, the holy Mother of the Redeemer and of the Church, Mother of grace and of mercy, collaborator of reconcili-ation and shining example of the new life, to ask her Son to grant to all our brethren and sons and daughters the grace of this Holy Year, to renew and preserve them. To her hands and to her maternal heart we commend the beginning, the development, and the conclusion of this most important matter. 3Olbid., 5: AAS, v. 57 (1965), p. 96. 4°Jn 17:21. 41See Gal 1 : 18. 4"-Sermon 3: PL 54, 146. ¯ ~:~See Is 12:3. ¯ ~4See Jn 14:6. t~See Jn 10:7,9. Papal Bull Proclaiming the Holy Year / 1005 We wish this our letter to take full and immediate effect in such a manner that. whatsoever has been laid down and decreed in it be religiously ob-served by all concerned and come into force, all things to the contrary not-withstanding. If anyone knowingly or unknowingly shall act other than in accordance with what we have laid down, we order that such action be con-sidered altogether null and void. Given in Rome, at St. Peter's, on the 23rd day of May, the solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord, in the year 1974, the 1 lth of our pontificate. 1, Paul, Bishop of the Catholic Church The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home Peter J. Henriot, S.J. The following is the text of the address that Father Henriot delivered to the 17th Annual Assembly of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men held in Chicago June 16-20, 1974. Father Henriot is a staff associate of the Center of Concern; 3700 13th Street, N.E.; Washington, D. C. 20017. In a recent article in America magazine, Father Hubert Horan, a White Father who spent several years as a missionary in Tanzania, questioned whether the topic of the upcoming Synod, "evangelization," was a "cop-out," a retreat from more potentially controversial questions. Given his own mis-sionary understanding of "evangelization," he felt that it certainly was not an insignificant topic, but one which would be rich and fruitful in increasing our understandings and actions as Church in the world today. But Father Horan did admit that the term is a "slippery one," open to ever wider and wider interpretations. In a sense, we might say that evangelization, like charity, "covers a multitude of sins." Thus in countless discussions preceed-ing, during, and after the Synod this fall, discussions such as we are in-volved in these days here in Chicago, this topic will be explored, broadened and narrowed, and, hopefully, appropriated in our own individual lives and in the lives of our communities. This morning, in addressing the topic, "The American Religious, Evan-gelizers at Home," I will not be offering you any neat and compact new definition of evangelization. I know that you all recognize the difficulty-- the folly---of attempting that, since we are all grappling with what this term means. I do not apologize, therefore, for using the meaning which the official pre-Synod document has adopted for the sake of clarity, namely, "the activity whereby the Church proclaims the gospel so that the faith may be aroused, may unfold, and may grow." The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home / 1007 Evangelization and Action for Justice How the A~erican religious is called upon today, to take part in this task of evangelization is a question critical to our vocation of service in the Church. I would like to narrow our focus of attention during this day to one aspect or dimension of the task of evangelization, an aspect which was defined and delineated at the last Synod in 1971. This aspect ,is found in a sentence which I must adroit I have probably overused by quoting it inces-santly, "in season and out of season." The sentence is from the Synod's statement, Justice in the World: 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. The preaching of the gospel--the task of evangelization--includes as a "con-stitutive dimension" the task of "action for justice," the commitment to trans-form a world where increasingly we hear, again in the words of the Synod, "the cry of those who suffer violence and are oppressed by unjust systems and structures." I want to share with you this morning my own understanding of why [l~is "action for justice" is constitutive to the task of evangelization, and why it is worth reflecti~ng on, praying over, and resolvihg about in our focus on the "American Religious, Evangelizer at Home." But let me firs[ make one thing perfectly clear, to borrow a phrase. My emphasis here is not upon "social action," the "social apostolate," or similar segmental aspects of religious life. My emphasis is upon a characteristic, a modality, of religious life which must--if religious life is to be evangelical--be c6nstitutive of its existence and practice~ in our Church and our world today. The Global Scene Our discussion has to be placed in context, and not carried on in a vacuum. "]'he context is our modern world, where, again citing the words of the 1971 Synod, "social structures place obiective obstacles in the way of conversion of hearts, or even of the realization of the ideal of charity." Less than two weeks ago I participated in a conference of over one hundred major religious leaders from Protestant, Catholic, and Jewish groups in the United States, called to discuss and plan the response of churches and synagogues to the current crisis in .global justice. During three days we heard factual analyses of the world situation from diverse figures such as Robert McNamara, President of the World Bank, and Neville Kanakaratne, Ambassador to the United States from Sri Lanka (Ceylon) and a leading Third World spokesperson. We heard theological analyses of'Why religious people should respond, from people such as Archbishop Marcos McGrath of Panama, and Rabbi Marc Tannenbaum, of the American Jewish Com- 1008 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 mittee--who both spoke of liberation from oppression as being central to the message of God's dealing with His people. And the participants planned and committed themselves to strategies for change: through the political system, in lifestyle, in education, in investment policies, and so forth. Finally, the conference received a ringing "statement of conscience," which spoke of the need for a profound conversion, in values, interests, and loyal-ties, in policies, institutions, and patterns of behavior, if any effective steps were.to be taken toward meeting the crisis of global justice. I would like to read one of the opening paragraphs of that statement to you, because I believe that it puts a context to some of the things we will be discussing~ The conference said: As Americans we have come to realize how many of our national policies, of our institutional structures of production, marketing and defense, and of our current personal patterns of conduct and consumption, are all inextricably linked to the ongoing av, d explosive global catastrophe of famine, hunger and malnutritior~; which continues to claim millions of lives every year in various parts of the world. Things are not getting better. The rich are getting richer, the poor poorer. Many millions will die this year from starvation. Hundreds of millions of children will be so undernourished that, if they survive at all, their physical and mental development will be seriously retarded. This is our world. The conference was able to say those things because it had put before it a description of a world marked by the twin horrors of hunger and repression. With the price of grain tripled in the past few months and the present world food reserves down to 27 days, the lowest since World War Two, the spectre of famine is a daily reality to millions of people in Africa and the Indian sub-continent. World-wide inflation, heightened through the quadrupling of the price of oil in the past year, means that the increasingly scarce resources of our finite world are getting even scarcer. And the world's population, now approaching 4 billion, will double in the next 35 years--except for the intervention of war and/or famine. Such deadly intervention is, of course, a real possibility. In a globe increasingly small, increasingly finite, and increasingly in-terdependent, two-thirds of the people of the world live in conditions of des-titution and degradation, while one-third enjoy the rich blessings created for all humankind. It is a literal re-enactment of the Dives and Lazarus story. Justice Needs at Home But in setting the context here, even so cursory a reference to the global scene should not distract us from the problems of social justice here at home. Those of you who live and work in major urban areas know that our cities, though outwardly quiet in the past few years, continue to see unrest, amidst conditions of unemployment, poor housing, and poor educa-tional systems. Our political system--as we approach the celebration in song and dance of our Bicentennial--seems paralyzed, locally as well as The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home / 1009 nationally, to deal with issues such as prison reform, tax reform, medical care, and so forth. One out of six Americans lives below a poverty line of what is required for basic health and well-being; the unemployment rate rose again last month to around 51/2%, with the rate of non-whites twice as high; inflation con-tinues to eat away the savings of the elderly and those on fixed incomes; while' life expectancy for the'average American is now around 71 years, for the non-white it is ten years less; and the U.S. infant mortality rate is one of the highest of any major industrialized nation in the world. Ten million Americans go to bed hungry every night in our land of diet cola and weight-reducing programs. Structural and Systemic Approaches This picture of social injustice--globally and nationally--is nothing new to you, I am sure. What might be new to you is the emphasis I want to give to the structural, systemic nature of the problems. We are not talking about isolated instances of poverty and injustice, but of the socio-economic-polit-ical structures, institutions~ and processes which create and perpetuate these problems. We need to move, as Gustavo Gutierrez suggests, from an "anec-doctal" approach to social problems to an "analytical" approach. Not stories about cases of injustice, but systemic analysis of why the injustices exist: only this will help us to experien~:e that call to profound conversion I spoke of earlier. This structural approach to injustice is central to the understanding of evangelization we are addressing here. It is central to the q971 Synod's discussion of "the systematic barriers and vicious circles" which hinder true justice. It is central to an appreciation of the strongest statement made by the Synod, when the Bishops described the present-day situation of the world as "marked by the grave sin of injustice." For the structural social injustice in our world and our nation is nothing less than sin, social sin. Social Sin and Evangelization Herein 'lies the reason why "action for justice" and transformation of the structures of injustice is constitutive to the preaching of the Gospel, to the task of evangelization. It is a continuation of the saving work of Jesus, who frees us from the bondage of sin: "For Gods~ loved the world that he gave his only son, so that everyone who believes in him may not be lost, but may have eternal life. For God sent his son into the world not to condemn the world but so that through him the world might be saved" (Jn 3:16-8). We Christians talk about sin only because we can talk of redemption, of grace. St. Paul tells us: "Where sin abounded, grace has abounded all the more" (Rm 5:20). And so as we speak of social sin, we also speak of social grace, God's revealing goodness and love in the social structures, institutions, and processes which we have created down through history. 1010 / Review /or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 It is precisely to fight against social sin, and to cooperate with social grace, that we Christians engage in "action for justice," that is, commit our-seives to the cause of social justice. Such action is not peripheral to the task of evangelization but is integral, constitutive. The 1971 Synod summarized this by saying: The mission of the preaching of the Gospel dictates at the present time that we should dedicate ourselves to the liberation of man even in his present ex-istence in ~this world. For unless the Christian message of love and justice shows its effectiveness through action in the cause of justice in the world, it will only with difficulty gain credibility with the men of our times. Thus the American religious evangelizer is, in a very true and genuine sense, the socially just religious, the socially just community. Note again that I am not speaking of social justice as an "apostolate" or as "work" or "projects." Social justice is a way o[ li[e which is integral to the.religious re-sponse to the call of the gospel. As integral to the gospel, it is something which cuts across all aspects of the evangelical life which we profess. It is living out of values which are counter to the values embodied in oppressive structures; it is a simplicity which says no to the conspicuous consumption which wastes the world's finite resources; it is a sharing which says no to the hoarding of the affluent in a world of so much poverty; it is a reaching out which says no to the dominance of entrenched power over the weak; it is a hope which says yes, there is a possibility of social change for a more just world. Action for social justice, then, is evangelization, a preaching of the good news to the poor, because our fundamental religious option is on the side of the poor, the powerless, the oppressed. We can do no less, reminded as we are by Mary's Magnificat of the fundamental option of God who has "pulled down princes from their thrones and exalted th.e lowly; the hungry he has filled with good things, and the rich sent away empty" (Lk 1:53-4). Concrete Implications Against this background of an understanding of the American religious evangelizer as the just religious, the just community, I would like to discuss some concrete implications which I see coming from this structural approach. I believe that they are only further extensions of what Father Paul Boyle wrote in his letter in the spring of 1972, urging CMSM members to be "witnessing and educating to social justice," and of what your own 1972 CMSM Assembly affirmed in the several resolutions you passed on the topic of social justice. For the sake of our exploration here this morning, I will speak in terms of the traditional aspects of evangelization, word, witness, and work. The word refers to the vision we religious have and relates particularly to the topic of formation; witness refers to our credibility, and relates to our life The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home / 1011 style; and work refers to the corporate thrust of the 9ommunity, and relates here specifically to the question of leadership. 1. Formation It has become increasingly accepted--theologically, philosophically, sociologically--that it is only possible to speak of the reality of a human person today by taking into full account the three dimensions of human existence: the individual, the interpersonal, and the public. These are not three separate and distinct dimensions so much as three moments in our perception of a single reality. The individual dimension is the realm of the private, the intimate. The person is an individual in as much as he/she is unique. The interpersonal dimension, on the other hand, is constituted in those relationships by which one individual deals with another in either, the limited sense of an 1-Thou encounter or in an extended sense of ordinary" societal dealings, The public dimension, however, includes the projections of individual and interpersonal existence into the institutions, structures, and processes of society. The person is organically one with these projec-tions. The identity of a human person is inadequately situated outside this triadic framework, this consideration of all three dimensions simultaneously. For this reason, the formation process of the American religious evangelizer must take account of the public dimension, the area of a person's involve-ment in and interaction with social structures, processes, and institutions. This formation--and I include the preparation of the novice, the training appropriate to brothers or. priests, the on-going "continuing education" programs for everyone in the community--should take account of the peculiar situation of the religious in the United States and the Roman Catholic Church of this last quarter of the twentieth century. Let me briefly suggest three points to be taken note of in this formation. "Spiritual Renewal and Social Justice Action First, there is great need today for an integration ,of the so-called "spiri-tual renewal" movement with the movement for greater social justice. We are experiencing in the Church today th6 movement of the Holy Spirit, renewing us through a heightened attention to prayer and faith, a growing acceptance of shared prayer, directed 'retreats, discernment workshops, spiritual direction, and the increasing activity, of charismatic, Pentecostal groups. Last year's annual CMSM Assembly was especially devoted to "building the faith community?' But I think that we are all aware that a danger lies in the possibility of a "turning inward," a false "spiritualism." Thus there is the potential case of someone becoming involved in these spiritual activities, spi,ritual ministries, as an escape from involvement with the evangelical task of changing unjust social structures. This might be understandabl~, given some of the flurry of "social action" during the 1960's, 1012 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 and also the intensity of challenge in the authentic struggle for social reform. But we religious would surely fail in our responsibility to our Church and our world if we did not make every effort to integrate the two great dy-namisms moving around us today, the call for more active°social justice and the drive for more deeply renewed interiority. Social Determinisms Second, we have to attend in formation to the power of the "social determinisms" which affect all of us American religious. These determinisms are part of our culture and infringe upon the full exercise of our freedom. They provide the context, the milieu, within which choices are made. I will mention three of them which my colleagues at the Center of Concern have in recent months been analyzing--the implications of which I believe you ¯ °will all realize. (a) "Cultural addictions"--those patterns, habits, styles of life which we become acculturated, socialized, to from birth. Though frequently lived out inadvertently, these cultural addictions have a powerful influence over our choices, for example, in the matter of life style in this affluent, consumption-oriented nation. (b) "'Mindsets"--those perceptual frameworks, paradigms, which guide our thinking, our viewing of reality. For example, we Americans tend to be highly mechanical, pragmatic, problem-solving, "can-do,'" in perception. (c) "Class bias"--those socio-economic-political expectations and ideologies which influence our patterns of speech, behavior, judgment. Since the majority of religious come from the middle-class and few, I suspect (though I am open to correction on this), from the working class, we have a class orientation which provides us with specific sets of norms, values, and attitudes. These social determinisms operate in us all. Think for a moment of examples in different members of your community, and in yourself. They must be recognized and critically examined if we American religious are. ever to raise questions, for instance, about the global social justice implica-tions of the American way of life, of being Number One, of the spirit of competition, and so forth. Need for Sociological and Theological Analysis Finally, we need to foster in all stages of formation, for young and old alike, a deepening insight into both the sociological analysis of the struc-tures of injustice and the theological analysis of the imperatives of justice. How knowledgeable are the members of our community, for example, about the facts of world population; about the institutions of global trade such as tariffs, multi-national corporations, and monetary arrangements; about the relationship of the current food crisis to the energy crisis through the link of the fertilizer shortage? How aware are we religious about the structures of injustice in our own country--inequitable tax systems, the policy of "red- The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home / 1013 lining" on housing mortgages, zoning policies, cost of medical care for the elderly, the farm worker problem? And how conversant are we about the Church's social consciousness as articulated through the great documents of "~Rerum novarum, Quadragesimo anno, the Christmas messages of Pius XI1, Mater et Magistra, Pacem in terris, Gaudium et spes, Octagesima adveniens, Justice in the World? What do we know of the theology of liberation, and other expressions of social theology? My several questions, of course, may simply be unfair. I am not saying that all religious need to be social scientists or social theologians. But the questions do point to the continual need to update ourselves in the reality of the world we live in--a need which can be met only through organized efforts in formation. And our updating must include not only study but also experience, the real praxis of which Paulo Freire speaks. Only then can we religious hope to be about the task of evangelization. 2. Life Style In one of several disturbing passages in the 1971 Synod's statement Justice in the World, the bishops addressed the issue of the credibility of the Church regarding its message of social justice. Its credibility, the document said, was affected by its own mode of acting, and in the possessions and life style found in the church. Two passages are particularly relevant. In speak-ing of temporal possessions, the Synod argued that the evangelical witness the Church is obliged to give should never become ambiguous because of privilege, power, and wealth--the gospel must be proclaimed to the poor. "If instead the Church appears to be among the rich and the powerful of this world, its credibility is diminished." Again, the Synod suggests an examina-tion of conscience regarding life style, wherein we ask ourselves "whether our life style exemplifies that sparingness in regard to consumption which we preach to others as necessary in order that so many millions of hungry people throughout the world may be fed." Now I know that we religious have all been engaged at great length in discussions about the meaning of our vow of poverty today. I.know that we all cringe when we hear remarks like that of Bishop Sheen--and I usually don't quote Bishop Sheen in my talks--to the effect that "There are millions of people who would be only tOO glad to take a vow of poverty." Yes, would that the poor of the world had such a luxury to embrace religious poverty! Changes in Religious Poverty But I really think that the terms of the discussion and debate over religious poverty have changed in recent years. While still recognizing the ascetical and spiritual value of the vow of poverty--linking it to the kenosis of the Lord Jesus--we are beginning to appreciate its social value, I might 1014 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 even says its political value. This appreciation is contained in the 1971 Synod's on "sparing and sharing" as a way to meet the challenge of global justice. It is found in the 1972 resolutions adopted by the annual CMSM Assembly, in which you yourselves pledged a program of action to promote within your communities greater simplicity of life style "to express our solidarity with the poor of the world and our respect for the needs of future generations." It is found in the 1973 Lenten pastoral letter of the Dutch Bishops, who discussed "Prosperity, Responsibility, Frugality," and spoke of the obligation of all Christians who live in an affluent nation to practice a socially-oriented sparingness as a no to even greater and greater con-su~ ption. And it is found recently, to speak of somethi~ng I know personally, in a communication of Father Pedro Arrupe, Superior General of the Society of Jesus, on "Simplicity of Life," in which he urges Jesuits to experi-ence an inner conversion to the poverty of Christ so that we can regain true apostolic credibility--especially with the poor. This would be shown in a simpler and hence freer life style. This communication is part of a con-tinual insistence on the part of Father Arrupe that unless Jesuits come to grips with the problem of their poverty, they have no future. In the socially unjust contemporary world, they deserve no future. This new dimension to an understanding and practice of religious poverty is linked to the realization that poverty and affluence, underdevelopment and oTerdevelopment, are correlatives. In a small, finite, and interdepen-d~ int globe, the extra serving of grain-fed beef on Dives' table means a smaller crumb of bread for Lazarus; the eight-cylinder automobile which guzzles petroleum products in the United States means a higher price for gasoline used to run the little irrigation pump on a small farmer's plot in India. The course of the Green Revolution--production of miracle grains to stave off famine in the developing countries--has in recent months come to a shattering halt because of the global shortage of fertilizer. But heavily-fertilized private lawns, golf courses, and cemeteries in the United States will not turn brown this summer. Freeing Ourselves [rom Affluence How can we American religious witness to an evangelization which really is a preaching of the Good News to the poor? We need to free our-selves from the subtle--and not so subtle--attachments to the affluent ways of our American life style. Today our simplicity of life is menaced, as Father Arrupe says, "not by a single but by a double danger. It is menaced not only by our built-in egoism, but by the consumer society in which we are plunged: a society that provides with such facility almost everything our egoism craves." We really do need freedom. But how free are we? (And I ask myself this question just as hard as I ask you.) Without making an effort to reduce our corporate resources and simplify our life styles, we American religious The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home / 1015 will continue to experience great unfreedom and our ability to be evan-gelizers will be hindered. Again I quote Father Arrupe: If, in a society of economic progress, abundance, and consumerism, we lack the spirit of poverty and the detachment derived from it, we run the risk, more than at any other time in the past, of becoming slaves. Slaves in many different ways: slaves of propaganda, of that high-pressure salesmanship which is the distinguishing mark of a consumer society; slaves of acquisiliveness, the drive to accumulate possessions which begin as luxuries and end up as neces-sities; slaves of snobbery, which limits our apostolic 9.ctivity, whether openly or tacitly, to a privileged social class. Poverty and simplicity of life, on the other hand, by reducing our needs to a minimum, sets us free--free to respond to any and every challenge of the apostolate. Three Points for Consideration Much could be said about promoting a response to that challenge of the apostolate, about promoting a life style which witnesses to the social dimension of evangelization I have been speaking of here. I mention only three brief points. First, because changes toward a simple life style run so counter to prevailing American values of consumption and affluence, there is need for religious communities to institute a positive, community-based and community-supported plan to reduce corporate resources and simplify individual and community life styles. The process does not come through pious wishes but through pragmatic plans. Second, continual community reinforcement and critique is required, to assure that efforts at simpler life styles are undertaken with a maximum of common sense, a minimum of self-righteousness, and a modiciam of good humor. Thirdly, we need a spirit of experiment, of risk, of adventure, in this task. A new citizen's lobby for affecting policy to meet the world hunger crisis, Bread for the World, has recently encouraged Americans to experi-ment with three meatless days a week, in order to curtail our dispropor-tionate consumption of~ meat--the most inefficient source of protein in a protein-short world. If religious communities in the United States were not risky enough to have offered this suggestion earlier, surely we could hope to be risky enough to try out the suggestion now that everyone is talking about it. 3. Leadership In developing the social dimension of the task of evangelization, I have spoken at considerable length of the word aspect of formation, and the witness aspect of life style. I will speak only briefly of the third and last aspect, the work aspect of leadership. Whereas I have had experience with formation programs (my own and others') and have analyzed and experi-mented with simpler life styles, I stand this morning before this august body of religious leaders with considerable hesitancy to speak about leadership. You have the experience--for better or worse!--which I lack. 1016 / Review [or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 But voices from below have never been lacking, so I would like to share with you at least two points. These relate to the promotion of the just community which I have called here the American religious evangelizer at home. The first point deals with models of support given by religious superiors for social change for justice, and the second deals with the issues of polarization and reconciliation. Superiors as Models of Support First, in relating to your communities in matters of social justice--in life style, education, spirituality, apostolate, corporate practices, and so forth--you obviously have several avenues of approach open to you. And here I am simply articulating out loud your own experience. You can exhort the group as a whole, calling them to a closer attention to the oppor-tunities and demands of "action for justice." This can be done by letter or conference or personal address to select groups. Or you can single out par-ticular persons and/or communities for a strong world of affirmation and encouragement. These persons or communities may be the "Abrahamic minorities" in your midst (to use the phrase Dom Helder Camara used last year in speaking to the LCWR) who struggle for justice in a tentative, prob-ing way on the fringes of community; or they may simply be those quiet, long-suffering members who hunger and thirst after justice in less noticeable ways. The approach of affirming these religious not only strengthens them in their work but also educates others in your community. Or again, decisions you take which have social justice impact, and ex-planations for these decisions which you share with your community and with the wider public, can be effective works of evangelization. I think of several instances in recent years where superiors have announced the opening of some new apostolate or the closing of some traditional apostolate, and explained their reasons in ways which significantly advanced the cause of social justice. Finally, there is the symbolic action of the superior who publicly speaks out on an issue of social justice, or personally involves him-self in some particular justice struggle. Last year's statement on universal and unconditional amnesty endorsed by many CMSM members, and the pa,rticipation of CMSM members on the picket lines of the Coachella Valley in support of the farmworkers, are two instances which come to mind. A statement this year by the CMSM in support of the Equal Rights Amend-ment would be a powerful contribution to the social justice issue of women's rights in our society. The point I wish to make in citing these various models of leadership action by religious superiors is simply to indicate explicitly the many ways which are open to you. Superiors, Polarization, and Reconciliation My second point touches on something which sometimes follows when The American Religious, Evangelizer at Home / 1017 this leadership in social justice has been exercised, or when the community really does get involved in "action for justice." This is the issue of polariza-tion in religious communities and the task of the religious superior to be a reconciler. The coming celebration of the Holy Year will emphasize the theme of reconciliation; several months ago, Father Paul Boyle wrote to the CMSM membership a letter discussing this topic. In the context of our focus here on the social dimension of evangelization, I have frequently heard it said that issues ofsocial justice sometimes divide religious communities. We American religious are clearly not all Democrats or,Republicans, con-servatives or liberals, capitalists or socialists. While we may agree in the abstract on many social pr.inciples (but then sometimes we do not even do that!), we usually do not find general agreement or consensus on specific, concrete problems and/or their proposed solutions. What is the religious superior to do when faced with division or po-tentially serious polarization. Let me caution against reconciliation. I say that because I am wary of an,effort to reconcile, smooth over, create consen-sus, where serious issues of social justice are at stake. Usually such recon-ciliation results in the more progressive point--which is frequently, but not always, the point of social justice--being 10st in compromise. At least let me suggest that sometimes reconciliation does not mean that two points of view are reconciled to each other, but that one point of view is reconciled to the point of view of the gospel. The superior who "reconciles" members ° of his community to social justice is truly about the work of evangelization. By Way of Conclusion Let me conclude these reflections of the word, witness, and work aspects of the task of evangelization by referring back to a point which Father Walter Farrell made last year in his summary remarks on the closing day of your CMSM Assembly, which had as its theme "The Role of the Major Superior in Fostering the Faith Community." Some of you may recall that Father Farrell commented that when you asa group talked about prayer, even about God's direct action in prayer, you were quite at ease. But the moment that social issues and the social dimensions of Christianity were raised, you became nervous. Now I was not there to notice your nervous-ness, so I will leave the point to your own memory and reflection. What I do hope and pray for this year is that any nervousness we feel will npt keep us from exploring openly and with feeling the topics I have sketched here this morning, the social structural dimension of evangelization, and its impli-cations for formation, life style, and leadership. Rather I would hope our nervousness would only be that of the Apostle Paul, who on one occasion was led to say: "Woe is me if I do not preach the Gospel!" Just as I began my presentation this morning with that Synod statement which I have overused by quoting again and again, I would like to end by quoting a Scripture passage which I have also much overused. But it is a 1011~ / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 passage which is worth using again and again, especially in the context of the social task of evangelization we are discerning about today. It is from the fourth chapter of Luke: He came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and went into the synagogue on the sabbath day as he usually did. He stood up to read, and they handed him the scroll of the prophet Isaiah. Unrolling the scroll he found the place where it is written: The spirit of the Lord has been given to me, for he h~s annointed me. He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives and to the blind new sight, to set the downtrodden free, to proclaim the Lord's year of favor. He then rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the assistant and sat down. And all eyes in the synagogue were fixed on him. Then he began to speak to them, This text is being fulfilled today even as you listen. "This text is being fulfilled today even.as you listen." Really, that is the challenge of the "American Religious, Evangelizer at Home"--to strive mightly to assure that this text of good news for the poor, liberty for the captives, new sight for the blind, freedom for the oppressed, this text is indeed being fulfilled, yes, even today as we listen. A Christian Is a Poor Man Kevin O'Shea, C.Ss.R. Father Kevin O'Shea teaches theology at the Redemptorist College; Pennant Hills; Sydney, Australia. Poverty is the most difficult dimension of religious life at present. It is the point at which the tension is greatest between spirit and institution. Institu-tional poverty is reasonable, moderate, and tolerable; in fact, it is argued if it should rightly be called poverty. Charismatic poverty is anything but reasonable, is beyond moderation, and is nearly intolerable; it takes its spirit from a new reading of the Scriptures and calls poverty by its real name. In this sense, poverty is in all likelihood the greatest ferment in religious life at present. What a renewal of chastity and of obedience have not achieved, may well be done, in alarming proportion, by this renewal of poverty. Para-doxically, it is not among religious alone that the renewal is coming. It is coming from men of the Spirit who are taking the gospel to mean what it says. The position of the Gospels on poverty is strikingly clear. Christ's fol-lowers must leave all, and give it to the poor; they must leave the worl~l, and become poor. It is all or nothing. It is not measured and calculated action. It is a form of divine madness. It is the foolishness Of love. The New Testament suggests three main motivations for such poverty. Povert-y is a Messianic mystery; it is a kenotic reality; and it is an ecclesial communion. Poverty a Messianic Mystery A long Hebrew tradition pictured the Messiah (the Christ) as anointed by God to go among the poor, to be a man of the poor, to join the ranks of the poor, and to bring help and life to the poor. Jesus lived in the strength of this image; He shared the misery of the poor and did all He could to 1019 1020 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 lessen it, and He waited there in it with the poor for God to come, in His own day, and remove it. The poor were the people who had no resources of their own to assure them of a future and a hope. They were the dispossessed, the disappropriated, the displaced people of this world. They were literally the no-hopers, the have-nots, the forgotten people, the little people without a land. And it was to them that the Messiah came, and it was among them that he became one of them. Not because their misery was a good thing, but be-cause it was a good thing to be among them and to share it, remove it, wait in it patiently till God would take away all tears from their eyes. To His disciples who followed Him, the Messiah asked a Messianic life style: the mystery of their incorporation in the ranks of the poor. A Christian, like the Christ, is a poor man. Poverty a Kenotic Reality The New Testament speaks of a disease of the Christian heart called dipsychia. It is a split psychology, a sort of spiritual schizophrenia. The Christian wants to give himself totally to God, yet he feels an attraction to the things that are easy and immediately in front of him. He is torn two ways. He lacks unity and integration as a single person. There is only one cure for this trouble in the New Testament: it is kenosis, the self-emptying of the person to the very roots of his human existence of which Christ gave him the supreme example of His life and death on the cross. It is only in that utter nothingness of kenosis that integrity is possible. There is no other "fulfillment." But this kenosis is not an attitude, a spirit, and a mentality of mortification, as the Greeks might have thought. It is tangible and real: a man leaves all he has, and becomes poor, nothing, empty, dead in the things he has prized. He knows the nakedness of the poor man. It is not poverty of spirit. It is poverty. Poverty and Ecclesial Communion There is a principle in the New Testament that what one gives up to become poor is given over to the poor, so that they are enriched by it. Christ was rich in laying a rightful claim to Sonship of God. Rich though He was in this respect., He became poor for us and did not cling tenaciously to this right for Himself. Thus, through His poverty, we became rich in His very Sonship. In the Jerusalem community, the model and norm of radical following of Christ in the Church, no one kept his own things (ta idia)-- shall we say that no one "did his own thing"---but each one's own things became thereby the things of all (ta koinonia). It is poverty, then, in its genuine realism and in the self-emptying it implies, that constitutes com-munion and community. The Church is a community because it is a Church. of the poor. Its common life is not a sharing of advantages each retains so that one complements the other; it is a giving of one's all to all and for all, so that in the emptiness of all there can be a truly communed life. Christian Is a Poor Man / 1021 Emphases in New Testament Poverty In these three New Testament motiv.es of pove.rty, there is a strong emphasis on a// --- all is given, so that a poor man can be nothing and have nothing. There is no limit to the poverty that. might be embraced. There is no poor man excluded from the reach of the gospel. There is no poor man that the Christian will not help, no poor man that he will not join. Anawim (the poor) is a plural word; and it has no limits of poverty. There is an instinct for the most needy, the most abandoned, the poorest of all. In these motives, too, there is a new kind of consciousness inculcated in the Christian disciple. What he does, effectively, by external action, for the poor, is limited and, in the last count, not very effective; that does not matter: What matters is what happens to him, and to the poor, when he gets among them and joins them. It gives him a compassion, a self-forget-fulness, a tenderness, an ability to care that transfo~:ms him and communi-cates itself to the poor to whom he now belongs. In poverty, he has become an embodiment of love. He has begun to sense the reality of an incarnation. He has begun to learn to live as a "dropout" from the existence he might have clung to. He has gone to the castoffs from society, who will love him even if they know that he was not always one of them and is not so deeply rooted in misery as they ai-e. He has gone away from the comfortable and complacent, who have struck him of[ from their lists. He knows the lone-liness of the missionary among the anawim. In these motives, again, there is an undreamt of realism and a stark simplicity. This poverty is not a philosophical theory; one does not muse that every creature is poor, or that man is a conscious beggar for his given existence from God. Nor is this poverty simply the acceptance of whatever limitations (or "poverty") are in fact in one's life, which for the moment cannot be removed. Nor is it the poverty of someone who equips himself to help others, and then looks around for needy people to help, and has to be content with less than ideal types to begin. In this poverty, one does not work out first the a priori conditions of poverty and then see how to imple-' ment them. There are really poor people before our eyes, and it is their poverty we must share, with them that we must become one in a self-for-getting and serving compassion. The poor are always with us. They are there, and we respond to them in an instinct of love, not in a calculation of reason. The Gospel Poor Man The life style of the gospel poor man is then that of a worker among the battlers for existence, a struggler among the not-yet-assured, a sharer among the insufficiently endowed, humanly as well as spiritually. It is a simple life, frugal, hard-earned, frustrating, substandard, where one is not sure how one is to survive, where one lives with the poor on their terms, and on his own, where one lives well below the ordinary normal comfort one might have as the result of one's talents and energy. The gospel poor man 1022 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 gives his time and his self to the poor, and finds 'his place among them. He can say, "We poor." The inspiration for this way of life is Biblical. We could sum it up in slogan words that resonate anew today in the heart of the Church: words like Messiah, anawim, shalom, shaliah, diakonia, evangelion, eucharistia, the mercy of God. Messianism, Anawim, .Covenant, and Peace There is a real resurgence of Messianism in the Church today, Christians are realizing that they are not Christians unless they fall in love with Jesus as Messiah and adopt his Messianic life style. This means that they must fall in love with the poor of their own time, and adopt their life style, for love of Jesus and the gospel of.the poor. A resurrection theology, over two decades, has divested us of an exaggerated spiritualism' in.our spirituality. A poverty theology, stemming from a new Messiah theology, will divest us of a remain-ing complacency in which we would persuade ourselves, if not others, that we share in the sufferings of the Lord without sharing the lot of His little ones. The anawim are His little ones. Because they are the poor, they are the poor of God. God cannot help it--He must fill emptiness with Himself. He cannot make a covenant except with the poor. It is to those who have neither a future nor a hope that He comes to make flow upon them a river of peace, and to bind Himself to be in person their future and their hope. God laughs at those who would offer Him their goods and their love~ and, as it were, enter a two-way relationship with Him: He loves one way, giving His all to those who have nothing and are nothing. After all, He must have His own way of, as it were, joining the poor, too, musn't He? For, to them, He gives His all. This is wh~t the covenant means, and this is the shalom it brings. Shalom does not mean peace, at least, if peace means a comfortable inner feelin.g of security, and no hostilities without. When God loves the anawim, and sends His Christ to them, He does not--immediately, at least--take away their poverty. They are still the poor, these poor of God. His shalom is not an anaesthetic so that they do not feel it. But it is shalom, and it is a trust and a faith and a certainty that He has not chosen the thi.ngs that are, but the things that are not. It is a willingness to smile, even at death. For resurrec-tion is assured, since the eschaton belongs to the anawim. The simplicity of washing the feet of the poor and of serving them in their deepest human needs is itself a total life style, and those who have heard the Messianic call have no option but to live it. It is not easy to wash a poor man's feet. They are dirty, they smell, and he will probably not thank you, but kick you in the face.You probably won't succeed, but you will know that there is a kind of happiness words can never explain in keeping on .doing it. This is the diakonia of the gospel. A Chr~t~n Is a Poor Man / 1023 o Gospel means good news. To proclaim the gospel means to speak, but much more to be good news to men. Some of my American friends have an unkind expression about a difficult and unattractive, character: They say, "He's bad news." They also say of a genuine and real person, "He's good news." Jesus Himself was this kind of good news to the little ones, to the poor. When He began.His Galilean ministry, he read from the ,scroll of Deutero-Isaiah: "He has, sent me to be good news tothe anawim." When we work in his name, in our apostolate, are we, ourselves, good news to men, to poor men? And do we realize that there is no such thing as a direct apostolate to the rich and the well-established, there is only a mission of Jesus and His disciples to the poor? The others get in to the extent that they, too, leave all and become members of the anawim! , Eucharistia and Mercy Eucharistia--the giving of thanks, the celebrating of life, and saying now in Christ, for the past thanks, for the future yes~ Shall we ever know, the truth of that thanks for the past until we can bless the Providence that has made-us poor men? Shall we ever say a total yes to the future until we can face it without any resources as the pure gift of our Covenanted Resource, the God of the poor? It is only then that we shall know Him in the breaking of the bread of pilgrims, at the table of the poor, and discover in surprise that the Eueharist is the liturgy of the little ones. It is true. God has no love that is not mercy. Mercy is His response, in His heart, to misery. To be among the first clients of His mercy, we must be his anawim. A vocation" to His love is a vocation to our brother, the poor man. Recently, a student of mine at Fordham wrote these words as the conclusion of an assignment on the meaning of the apostolate: Are the people of the Word something sp~'cial, or is it only their words? Will their lives speak to us? The eye and ear ~vorld is all sewn up by the talented admen of Madison Avenue. What is left to us? The heart world. The world where flesh,, speaks to flesh, heart to heart. Do not speak religious themes to me. Speak the Word that is in your heart, your experience of life, enriched, made more than human, by the saving power in it that is believable because you believe it. I do want to be told, not by hearing you but by knowing you. Or is that an issue? I ask you if you understand, and your answer is your life. The Recovery of Messianic Man This poverty of Messianic man we are beginning to see again in our time. It is the challenge of our conscience, this cry of the poor. We can no longer vaguely know that half the world is starving for food, and more than half of it for love, and write off .the situation as bad luck, or permitted by providence, and promise to pray for it and count our own blessings. That is not the Christian life; indeed, it is not human life. The new global village is one parish. Every man is my neighbor, and it is a sin to regard a man as a 1024 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 stranger. The Church is beginning to challenge the reasonable moderation and balanced calculation of its stance, before the secular reality of poverty in the world. Some would even speak of the end of a "Constantinian era" and the beginning of a new Mcssianic epoch where the Spirit shall anoint us and send us to the poor. If this is true, it is but a beginning. We have yet a long way to go. When we try to relatc this thinking with the established or recently adopted norms of institutional poverty among religious, the lines do not even meet. Juridic poverty had a place in the history of religious life," but it is not the same as evangelical poverty. Many, of course, in the name of realism, will remind us 'that just as we once spoke of "tending to perfection," an ideal we never reached, so here we must feel obliged only to tend to this perfection of poverty and Messianic life, not to reach it immediately. Yes, but the acid test of the new Christian conscience is that it cannot use this theological formula as an excuse from real and significantly new action. Formulated obligation cannot measure up to a charismatic spirit. Our conscience is telling us that we are suffering from compassion fatigue, that we have enjoyed the protection of our callousness, that we must now .make a new option to be compassionate rather than honorable. Our skin must stretch around the globe, so that if any man hurts, we hurt with him, and do some-thing about it. The Cry of the Poor Pope Paul has taken up this point in his apostolic exhortation to religious (ll tempio massimo, July 2, 1971). "Our contemporaries," he says, "question you with particular insistence about poverty." "You hear rising up, more pressing than ever, the cry of the poor." "Was .it not to respond to their appeal as God's privileged ones that Christ came, even going as far as to identify Himself with them?" It is a "pressing call for a conver-sion of minds and attitudes, especially for you who follow Christ more closely in this earthly condition of self-emptying." It calls for "a conversion of hearts, it is a call to love." What, in practice, will the cry of the poor demand of religious? First, "It must bar you from any compromise with any form of social injustice." Secondly, "It obliges you to awaken consciences to the drama of human misery." Thirdly, "It leads some of you to join the poor in their situation." Fourthly, "It calls many institutes to rededicate some of their works to the poor." Fifthly, "It enjoins on you a use of goods limited to the requirements of your work." Sixthly, "It is necessary that in your daily lives you give external proof of poverty." A Christian is a Poor Man / 1025 Seventhly, "It is not normal to allow yourself everything offered to you." Eighthly, "Earn your own living and help the poor by your work." Ninthly, "You cannot purely and simply conform to your surroundings." Tenthly, "Do not be excessively preoccupied with appearing to be poor." All this is said in conformity with the patterns of obedience and specific apostolate in a given institute. It is a call from the needs of the times and the demands of the gospel. It is a vocation to discover Christ as a poor man. Renewal and Poverly Much energy has gone into the renewal of religious community. Some-times one gets the impression that they are trying to be beautiful resident communities of loving relationships which might then, as an overflow, have something to contribute to the poor. This is heresy. The Church has no mandate to be a resident, domesticated Church. It is essentially missionary, a pilgrim, servant Church of the poor. It is only by living its vocation to poverty among the poor that it can discover the kind of community life Christ intended for it. Likewise, much work has gone into the renewal of authority and obedience in religious life. It will not fully succeed until authority becomes an initiation of new life among the poor, and obedience is a heeding of the cry of the poor. Again, much has been done to make religious life more human, more relational, more interpersonal, more affec-tive. But the tenderness and the gentleness and the caring concern that we so desire, we must learn from our involvement with the poor. It is but an-other work for the meekness of the anawim. Of the poor, it has been said, "Only he who sees the invisible accom-plishes the impossible."~Of the gospel poor man who goes to the poor, we might likewise say, "Only he who loves the unlovable is good news to the little ones." A Penance Service Bonaventure Hinwood, O.F.M. Father Bonaventure Hinwood is a faculty member of The Seminary; 191 Main Street; Waterkloof; Pretoria, South Africa. His penance service given below was originally composed for teaching sisters to be used during Lent 1974. mo 4. 5. B. 6. 7. 1026 Introduction HYMN OPENING PRAYER P(riest): Heavenly Father, who does not wish the death of a sinner but rather that he should turn from his wickedness and live, we beg You to turn the light of Your truth upon our lives and bring us to true repentance in this time of mercy. Make your Holy Spirit active within us this evening to lead us to see our lives as they are in Your sight, and to sensitize our hearts so that we may give a true response of love and sorrow to Your call. This we ask through Jesus Christ, our Mediator with You and the cause of our joy. C(ongregation): Amen. SCRIPTURE READING: John 3:16-21. SERMON HYMN First Sel]-con]rontation SCRIPTURE READING: Matthew 16:24-7. P. My sisters, the most precious thing in the whole world for most of us is ourselves. This is demonstrated by the fact that we will frequently use or abandon almost every other person or thing in order to realiz,e our own image of our self-fulfillment, to achieve our own plans and A Penance Service / 1027 projects, to satisfy our needs and desires. Jesus, however, has come to free us from our self-centeredness. He has come to give us a share in His own capacity to devote and to give oneself wholeheartedly to bringing about God's kingdom, and to love Him and those for whom He died. This can only be done by an unstinting gift of ourselves to Him. Do we really desire to make this gift, and are we really intent upon trying to make this self-offering more complete? A(ssistan0 1: Jesus' great commandment tells us that we should love the Lord our God with our whole heart, our whole soul, our whole mind, and our whole strength, and our fellow men as ourselves. This is a fulltime job. Yet a lot of our valuable time and energy gets wasted irt useless tension, frustration, and self-pity. Why is this? Am I really prepared to let go of my own will, or am I too attached to my own wants, my own plans, my own projects, my own way of doing things, my own rhythm of life? A. 2: Am I truly open to viewpoints other than my own, or is my own way of looking at things always my supreme criterion in life? Do I really try to understand the contrary opinions of others, or am I too busy thinking of ways to defend my own viewpoint even to listen to what others are saying? Am I too confident in my own judg-ment to consult with others or seek their advice? Have I failed to respect other people's greater learning or experience? How often have these attitudes of mine been the cause of misunderstanding with others or tensions in the community? A. 1: Do I try to lighten the burden of those charged with regulating the affairs of the Church, the community, and the school by ready cooperation and obedience, or am I destructively critical and stub-born? Do I accept that they are honestly trying to do theirbest for the common good and for me, or am I suspicious and negative in my attitude towards them? Do I seek first the kingdom of God and the common good, o.r is my own convenience primary? SILENCE FOR REFLECTION PI~AYER FOR FORGIVENESS P. Jesus who instructed us that "If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me" (Mt 16:24): . Have mercy on me a sinner. P. Jesus who calls us to "Shoulder my yoke and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls (Mt 11:29-30): 12. Have mercy on me a sinner. 1028 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 11. 12. P. Jesus who warned that "Anyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and anyone who humbles himself will be exalted" (Mt 23: 12): 12. Have mercy on me a sinner. P. Jesus who said by the well of Jacob, "My food is to do the will of the one who sent Me and to complete his work" (Jn 4:34): C. Have mercy on me a sinner. P. Jesus who prayed in Gethsemani, "My Father, if this cup cannot pass by without my drinking it, your will be done" (Mt 26:42) : ¯ . Have mercy on me a sinner. P. Jesus who, although You were the Son of God, "learnt to obey through suffering" (Heb 5:8) : 12. Have mercy on me a sinner. P. Jesus who, having been made perfect, has become for all who obey You the source of eternal salvation (Heb 5:9): C. Have mercy on me a sinner. P. Jesus who has taught us that a man can have no greater love than to lay down his life for his friends (Jn 15:13): 12. Have mercy on me a sinner. Second Self-con]rontation SCRIPTURE READING: John 15:5, 8-12. P. My sisters, the tone of our own lives gives a tone to the environ-ment in which we live, the mental and emotional atmosphere which we create in our own personalities affects the social atmosphere in which those around us have to live. If we, therefore, are negative, cynical, disgruntled, and grumpy people we pollute the atmosphere of those around us with unpleasantness, tension, gloom, and sadness. If, however, we are positive, creative, contented, and cheerful, then we provide for others an atmosphere of brightness and warmth, of enthusiasm, lightness, harmony, and joy. Does our love for others extend as far as building up Christ's joy in ourselves for their sake? -A. 2: It is only in freedom that we can be truly joyful, and Christ has come to set us free from the inordinate and selfish attachment to people, places, activities, and things, which is the cause of much of our sadness. Do I cherish that freedom which a positive and profound living out of my religious vows brings, or are they for me merely nega-tive restraints which produce frustration and discontent? Am I a ful-filled and joyful person because I love in the freedom of my religious vocation, or have I become selfish and finicky? A. 1: In the theme song for the film Brother Son and Sister Moon, Francis complains that he seldom sees and hears the wonders of God's A Penance Service / 1029 13. creatures because he is too "preoccupied with selfish miseries." Am I so busy with my own emotions, particularly negative reactions of suspicion, wounded pride, self-defense, and criticalness that I am un-able to see the beauty, goodness, and virtue of the people and things around me? Am I so busy manipulating and condemning God's creatures, that I do not have time to thank Him and rejoice in them? A. 2: St. Francis said once to a mournful looking brother that the only reason for being sad was because one was in mortal sin, and the only cure for that was to go to confession. Do I really appreciate what an ecstatic thing it is to have been saved by Jesus Christ, to have been made in Him a child of the Father and an heir of God's Kingdom? Am I so busy rejoicing with Mary at the great things God has done for me, that I do not have time to get downhearted and miserable about the other things that may not go the way I want them to? SILENCE FOR REFLECTION PRAYER FOR FORGIVENESS P. Jesus Christ who has told us the good news we read in the passage from St. John so that You may share your joy with us to the full (Jn 17:13): 12. Forgive me my preoccupation with selfish miseries and my lack of joy. P. Jesus, when the wise men heard the prophecy of your birth in Bethlehem and saw the guiding star they rejoiced exceedingly with great joy (Mt 2:10): 12. Forgive me my preoccupation with selfish miseries and my lack of joy. P. Jesus, when You told Zacchaeus that You would stay in his house that day, Zacchaeus welcomed You with joy (Lk 19:6): 12. Forgive me my preoccupation with selfish miseries and my lack of joy. P. At the angel's message about your resurrection, Lord, the women with great joy ran to tell the disciples (Mt 28:8): 12. Forgive me my preoccupation with selfish miseries and my lack of joy. P. Lord who told us that the person who finds the treasure of the kingdom of heaven, in his joy goes and sells all he has to buy it (Mt 13:44): . Forgive me my preoccupation with selfish ~miseries and my lack of joy. Time for Personal Examination and Confession Conclusion 1030 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 15. 16. 17. PENANCES (one penance to be chosen by each penitent) a. Make the Stations of the Cross, meditating on the obedience, meek-ness, and humility of Jesus. b. Spend ten minutes thinking of the good points of a superior, fellow religious, or pupil of whom you are often negatively critical, and praying for her. c. Walk around or sit in the garden for ten minutes listening to the birds and insects, and looking at the trees and flowers, clouds or stars, and thank God for His goodness and rejoice in the wonder of His creation. OUR FATHER (recited by all together) P. May almighty God have mercy on you, forgive you your sins, and bring you to everlasting life. C. Amen: P. May the almighty and merciful Lord grant you pardon, absolution, and forgiveness of your sins. 12. Amen. DISMISSAL P. May the. Lord renew you with His energy and joy. May He ac-company you on your way with His presence and make all your works fruitful. May He strengthen you against all that is evil and give you the courage to serve those nearest to you and all men wherever they may be. And may the blessing of God almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit be with you and remain with you always. 12. Amen. 18. HYMN The Formation of Contemplatives in Action Ladislas Orsy, S.J. Ladislas Orsy, S.J., who has written often on the theology of religious life, is a mem-ber of the Department of Canon Law; The Catholic University of America; Washing-ton, D. C. 20017. Contemplatives in action are the salt of the earth; as a gracious gift from God, they have a tang, and they are able to bring some goodness into every-thing they touch. Quite a good description of religious life! No wonder many communities intent on the ideal of being the salt of the earth raise the question: How do we form contemplatives in action? We take their query, but, to make it more manageable, we break it up into three questions. First, who is a contemplative in action? Second, how does one develop into such a person? Third, what structured program can help the development? That is, our reflections revolve around three topics: the person, the process, and the program. While the focus of our attention is on the person, the resulting description will exhibit a somewhat static picture. It cannot be in any other way. But the movement that gives us con-templatives in action must he somehow caught; therefore, the pilgrim's progress must be delineated, as it were,'in its natural state. Then comes the problem of the environment, how external structures contribute to a process that is so deeply internal and personal. Since everybody knows how far-reaching these three questions are and how difficult it is to find any final answer, we are in the happy position of having to respond to only limited expectations. The reflections of a man may be no more than a drop into the ocean, but, for that man, it is certainly pleasant to contemplate the vast dimensions of the ocean even if he cannot add much to it. 1031 1032 / Review for Religious. l/olume 33, .1974/5 The dimensions of the question of the formation of contemplatives in action are indeed vast, and the real answer will not be given by any writer, but existentially by communities who do something about it. After all, for-mation is a practical issue. PART I: TIlE PERSON The beginning of any search should be an inquiry. We have already broken up the big fundamental issue into three more particular ones, and now we focus on the first: Who is a contemplative in action? Two qualities must be present in the person: the capacity to contemplate and the ability to act. Moreover, the two should be blended together; this is what the issue implies. Hence, to put our search on the right paths, there should be an even more particularized sequence of questions. Let us ask therefore: Who is a contemplative person? Who is a person of action? And finally, to see how the two blend together, let us see who is an integrated person. Who Is a Contemplative Person? The term "contemplative" can be used in different senses. At times, it means a hermit, a recluse, or a religious with strict enclosure: then it focuses on the external situation in which a person is found, such as solitude and separation from the world. At times, the term means a person bent on in-tellectual reflection: then it focuses on the internal disposition of a writer, of an artist, of anyone who is of reflective type. The Christian Contemplative In Christian tradition, the word includes a sacred dimension: a con-templative person is the one who experiences in his innermost being a tran-scendent and sacred power that draws him to Christ. All the words in this general description° connote a mystery. To be contemplative, then, is to experience in the depths of our being the intrusion of a power that moves us to a direction that is beyond our horizons. This experience does not enter-tain the senses; they can remain thirsty and hungry. Nor does it satisfy the intelligence; it can remain frustrated and empty. But the experience brings a meaning to our humanity even if not every part of it can appreciate its values. The content of the experience is hard to describe; it is not concep-tual; it is the perception of an internal movement that does not necessarily bring new knowledge nor leave a specific impression on our being. Rather, we become aware of an energy that is given to us from a source that is more powerful than ourselves. It comes from a world that is beyond our ordinary capacity to see or to reach. It comes from a transcendental source. This power that wells up in our being is apprehended as sacred. It is concerned with our ultimate destination. It comes from God; it carries us to God. The discovery of this energy may remind us of the precious pearl of a great value; the merchant who finds it sells all to buy it (see Matt 13:45-6). The Formation o] Contemplatives in Action / 1033 The analogy is partially right. The gift is more precious than any pearl, and to sell all to have it makes good sense. Yet the same gift is not an object to be stored and exposed for admiration; rather we become aware of a current that takes hold of us, of a movement that reaches us at the depth of our being. Other Descriptions oI a Contemplative This description leads to another formulation of the definition of a con-templative person. He is the one who is ordinarily aware of the presence and power of the Lord in him and who follows the direction of the move-ment imprinted in him. This definition is more personal; it names the source of the power--it is the Lord. All is put into the context of a person-to-person relationship. The energy is transcendental and sacred because it originates in the one who moves all living things. The experience of the power is an obscure aware-ness of the Lord reminiscent somewhat of the experience of the Apostles fishing on the Sea of Tiberias at the breaking of the dawn and noticing a stranger on the shore. Attracted by His unusual presence, surprised by the power of His voice, gradually they became aware that it was the Lord. The intrusion of the Lord in our life is a gift that does not create a state of romantic happiness; rather, it helps us to realize the complexity of our nature. We can be happy at some depths and yet suffer acutely from thirst and hunger. We can be resigned at one level and yet mourn the loss of a loved person at another level. We can be anchored through hope and yet tossed around by the uncertainties of this world that may amount even to persecution. The gift of contemplation and the discovery of it could be described in many other ways. All would be analogical and incomplete. We could speak about a small light that attracts from a great distance but does not alleviate the darkness and the loneliness of the night. We could speak about a rising inner security that holds a person firm while he is subject to present and future shocks from a world that changes around him. The term "contemplative" may not be the best to describe a person so blessed, since traditionally it implies an intellectual vision and does not con-vey the idea of participation in a movement. The distinction between the two--vision and movement--may be flimsy especially at greater depths. Nonetheless, the term has been sanctioned by tradition; hence it would be difficult to break away from it. Besides, there is no adequate term to cover the reality we described. Through this awareness of God's presence and power, a person trans-cends himself, is carried beyond himself. He enters a new universe that is marked by God's immensity and His infinity. The old conceptual horizons with their precise circumscriptions disappear, and new desires get hold of the heart. The actions of such a person will spring from a new source. 1034 / Review for Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 Becoming a Contemplative Person We attempted an answer to the question: Who is a contemplative per.- son? To understand him further, let us raise the question: How does some-one become a contemplative person? Clearly, there is no other way of becoming a contemplative person than by discovering internally the Lord's power. The gift is independent of us, but the process of discovery is somewhat within our capacity. This search for the elusive gift that is present enough to attract us and absent enough to require a long journey has been frequently described in Christian tradition as a descent into greater depths or as an ascent to greater heights or as a steady progress into ever more intimate dwellings of God in our being. All these allegories are meaningful; all converge into saying that there is a process that ought to be a progress toward a closer relation-ship with the Lord. Usually we speak of the pilgrim's progress, of man's journey to God; correct speech would require us to speak of God's progress in overwhelming man with His grace and power. The initiative is really His at every stage. Yet we can resist His approaches or subtly divert our attention from them. Hence, pragmatically, it serves a purpose to speak of our own journey to God. Perhaps to reconcile the exigencies of the primacy of grace and of our own need to be alert to God, we can use a modern alle-gory and speak about a process of liberation that man must go through to be transformed into an image of God. The principal agent in this process is the Lord, but we are real, active agents as well, if not to the extent of giving freedom to ourselves, at least to the point of removing obstacles before the helping hand of God. Need for Progression in Depth We take up the traditional allegory in a different way: to become a con-templative person means to enter into life with increasing intensity. There is a need for progress in depth. Man indeed is a complex being endowed with an awareness of life at different levels: on the level of what his senses can perceive and communicate, on the level of what his mind can penetrate and understand, and on the level that has no limitations because it opens up into the infinite universe discovered through faith. We all live and move on all these levels; in the awareness of our being, they intermingle, they form a unity. Nonetheless, a person's development can be arrested on the level of a world communicated to him through his senses, without much understanding, without the light of faith. A person can find satisfaction on the level of hu-man intelligence, a worthy and dignified life it would be, yet without the hope that springs from faith. Finally, a person can reach the depths that faith brings and let all his life be invaded by the light and strength that origi-nates in the Lord who revealed Himself through the contingencies of human history. The Formation o] Contemplatives in Action / 1035 Libration from the Communications of the Senses The life of a person can revolve around the content of those communi-cations that he receives from his senses, and the expansion of his personality into the fascinating world of creative intelligence or into the limitless world of faith can be impeded. Such a person is underdeveloped. Without know-ing it, he is a captive of those steady impacts that he receives from the out-side world; his being relishes them, or at least is attached to them, at times to the point that any desire to go deeper is weakened to the point of ex-tinction. Our particular culture favors such an attitude. Much of the press, radio, television, cinema thrives on the passive receptivity of the public; the media rarely stimulate creative activity; still less do they send their readers, lis-teners, o~ viewers into an advefiture of faith. When someone is immersed in that world, the impression clouds his mind and cancels out the natural dynamism of a desire for better things. If this is so, there is a need for an internal war of liberation. To begin with, the person must become conscious of his mutilated state; he must admit that his growth has been arrested, and that he is deprived of a fully human and Christian life. Obviously enough, we are speaking more of a principal trend than of an absolute univocal state. There will always be some intelligent activity in every person, some movements of faith in every Christian, but the question is which of these many trends prevails. '°~AI great deal of our traditional asceticism was meant to liberate the pers.o~ from the captivity that communications from the senses can induce. Thus far it was good; it went wrong when it assumed that mortification alone can achieve liberation. It is also necessary to show the person broader vistas of intelligence and' faith that attract. No one will ever exchange some-thing for nothing, but show him a better value that pulls his being and-he will be ready to sacrifice many things. Many novitiates failed in the past because they taught asceticism without opening up new horizons. As soon as the novitiate was over, the imposed practices collapsed, and there was no realization of new frontiers that opened up into a new world. Liberation from the overbearing communications that come through our senses is necessary, but it can be achieved only by the steady pull of higher values consistently present in our consciousness. Liberation from the Limitations of Intelligence A person's life can focus mainly on the fascinating world of his creative intelligence. This is progress in depth; it means more humanity, it means greater likeness to God's image. Yet it has limitations: it does not know the immense world opened up by faith, or, when that world is presented, it can impede the person from entering into the dizzy unknown that he cannot measure or explain. The world of human intelligence can offer much human satisfaction. We feel at home there, the problems are of our own size, and 1036 / Review Sot Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 the objects of our desires are attainable. It is all a comfortable and also a comforting world, but, because there is a longing in man for the infinite, a reassuringly human world can become a prison; man can enclose himself in a universe proportionate to his mind. A process of liberation may be necessary precisely to enter a new universe opened up by faith, perhaps by the experience of the presence and power of the Lord in our innermost being. Much of the traditional literature that spoke about the mortification of judgment intended to speak about the freeing of the mind for the impact of faith, about opening up our being for God's own horizons. It was right as far as it did not suggest an empty exercise but rather showed .the greatness of God and the harm6ny of His plan which makes worthwhile an exchange that leads to the loss of our thoughts and desires. The New World o] Faith To live on the level of faith is to live in a new universe with God in its center, known as He revealed Himself through Jesus Christ. In Him, all things and events receive a meaning--our own life included. The limitations of our humanity imposed by the senses and by our intelligence are broken up; there is an infinite openness in every direction. The transition into the world of faith is a radical ch.ange. Once again, it brings out the complexity of our natui'e. While the deepest and the best in us relishes the expansion of our horizons into infinity, while'~we experience a new security in our Maker, our mind misses the clarit.y, of human equations, and our senses long for the security of a more familiar world. Paradoxically the universe of God that brings peace to our restless he~-t unsettles our intelligence and our senses. For those who live by faith, the awareness of a deep security is compatible with the experience of insecurity in their human-ity. To comprehend this seemingly contradictory situation is the clue to the acceptance of it. Many recoil from entering the universe of faith because they cannot handle this complex situation in themselves, and they do not realize that the resulting tension is the ordinary lot of a pilgrim who is entering into an unknown land. No writer has ever better described this paradoxical state than St. John of the Cross: To enjoy all enjoy nothing; To possess all, possess nothing; To be all; be nothing; To know all, know nothing. To reach what you do not enjoy go where there is no enjoyment; The Formation oj Contemplatives in Action / 1037 To learn what you do not know, tread the path of ignorance; To obtain what you do not possess, walk without possessions; To be what you are not, leave behind all that you are. (The Ascent o] Mount Carmel, Book 1, Chapter 13) Our translation is not literal. Its intent is more to bring out the stark simplicity of the Spanish text than to render exactly each word. Once we understand the complexity of our nature, those sharp contrasts painted by the saint become meaningful. At one level our being can embrace all and be satisfied, while on another level it is thoroughly frustrated and empty. In the depths of our heart we can know of the presence of a mystery and accept its demands, while our mind and senses cry out for some nourishment more proportionate to their desires. The Paradoxes of a Li[e in Faith No one should be surprised if a person entering the universe of faith and experiencing its dimensions and demands on his being becomes upset and appears disoriented. He has a fine balancing job to do, and it cannot be learned in one day. Moreover, he may discover new depths every day, and like all humans he may become dizzy and scared. He must reconcile securi-ty with insecurity, satisfaction with hunger, a most intense personal relation-ship with a human loneliness. He experiences courage and fear, the ex-pansion of his own personality and the loss of friends who do not under-stand. But as the balancing work progresses, he begins to be himself in a fuller sense of the word than he has known before. Almost certainly, he be-comes both a witness who attracts and a sign that is contradicted. He finds his journey both lonely and exhilarating. Strangely enough, as he progresses into the unknown land of faith, his humanity opens up and his intelligence becomes more creative than ever and his senses partake somehow in celebrating new discoveries. Such a person is anything but dull; he is the salt of the earth--with a tang. Summing It Up To sum it all up: a human perso.n can live on different levels. His life may revolve around the impacts that his senses communicate, or his life be an expression of the creativity of human intelligence, or his life may be the sharing of God's life and of His universe in faith. To speak about levels, of course, is to use a metaphor to express somehow the complexity of our nature, about which there can be no doubt. These levels blend into each other, and a thoughtful person graced by God should progress from the more external to the more .internal, from human desires to divine in-vitations. There is a dynamism in our being that attempts to bring it con-tinuously to greater depths. 1038 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 The right question about the formation of contemplatives can be formu-lated now; it is: How can a person be helped to progress into the universe of faith; how can his attention be directed to the unknown land that God's revelation opens up, and how can he be attracted into desiring an adven-ture? In particular, the question should be put: How can a person be helped during the specific crisis of transition from the world of human measures into the unmeasurable universe of God? To this question, we shall return when we speak of the process and pro-gram of formation. Before doing so, we must reflect on action that springs from contemplation. Who Is a Person of Action? A contemplative person is the one who experiences the Lord's presence and power in his innermost being, a close interpersonal relationship. Is it a closed relationship as well? Or, is it open so as to" inspire action? At any rate, who is a person of action? Two Misconceptions To clear our mind for a fruitful inquiry, let us exorcise it from two mis-conceptions. One conceives human action as something added to a person from the outside in much the same way as an external object can be pegged onto a tree. Such an aberration, of course, does not make any sense. Human action proceeds from the depths of a person, as the fruit is produced from the inner potentials of a tree. As there is an organic, sequential unity between the tree and the fruit, so there is a dynamic and harmonious unity between the inner riches of a man and his actions. They cannot be considered separately, even if mentally we draw a distinction between cause and effect. Another mistake is to think that actions to be significant ought to be s.pectacular. °They must initiate a new movement, or they must make a dra-matic impact on thousands. Not so! Significant action can evolve around humbler objects, as the actions of a Christian mother who takes care of her family, or the actions of a monk who with sudden inspiration or enduring patience creates a new melody to praise the Lord. By action, we mean all kinds of creative activity that somehow enriches this universe. Action Is an Enrichment o[ the Universe Now that these understandings are out of the way, we can return to our question: Who is a person of action? He is the one who brings fruit that can be seen by his fellow men and enriches them. The quality of the action depends on the potentials of the person who produces it; and the state of his mind, of his heart will be projected into his actions. An action is first born when our intelligence discovers a possibility for enriching this universe. It ought to be a real possibility in the sense that The Formation o] Contemplatives in Action / 1039 the action once taken will blend into a broader plan that is already un-folding outside us. Therefore, no one can be sensibly active unless he can direct his attention to all relevant facts around him, unless he can grasp an intelligent pattern behind them; moreover, he must have strength and energy to transform a possibility into reality. Action is indeed an act of creation. Through it, man somehow tran-scends himself, produces something new, similar to his internal x;ision and desire. When active, man becomes more like God, his creator; after all, he was made to the image of God. Not only is there nothing wrong with action; there would be something missing in a man who is not active--the image of God our creator would not be complete. It follows also that due to the complexity of our nature our actions may originate at different levels; the quality of action will reflect the quality of its source. Levels o] Action An action may originate in what is communicated through the senses without the benefit of intelligent reflection and judgment and without the enlightening influence of faith. It can be a mere emotional response, or it can be a way of doing what the others are doing; in such a case, a man operates in a poor way. What is best in his humanity does not participate in the action. The external act is. marked by its shallow origin; it does not create "a new harmony in the world, it merely add's to the universal noise. At best, the.person beats the drum with the others. An action may proceed from intelligent insight and reasonable judg-ment. Such action is certainly worthy of man, although it may not reflect the wisdom of God that is scandal to the Jews and sheer stupidity to the pagans. Some fields of human activity requir~ this type of action, such as going back and forth in space. After all, the laws of space are proportionate to our intelligence, and consequently, a proper field for reasonable opera-tions. But such action is not enough to build the reign of Christ. The deepest source of action in a Christian is in his contemplation, in his awareness of the Lord's presence and power. When action comes from such depths, it must pass through the screening of critical intelligence; it must also reflect the humanity of our senses: nonetheless, it is born from grace. It comes from God, it builds the kingdom. The Liberation o[ Action As in the case of contemplation, there is a problem of transition into the universe of faith to which Christian actions ultimately must ~be adjusted. Since it does not provoke an immediate reaction on the level of the senses, since it does not prompt ~n immediate intelligent response, our action itself can appear as a journey into the vast immensity of the unknown; all the problems of the paradox we described for contemplation are manifest in 1040 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 33, 1974/5 this field too. Also, the process of liberation must take place in a similar way. Our action must proceed from an increasingly deeper source. A Christian person of action, then, is the one who received God's grace in his whole being and in whom grace brought fruit for the enrichment of the world around him. There is integrity in such a person because his beliefs are followed by good deeds, and those deeds do not spring from an emotional reaction, not even from mere human reasoning, but from a depth which is scrutinized by the Spirit of God. Such a person has a unity in his being; he is whole, he is made of one piece; in his acts of creative action, he mani-fests the image of the Creator. All the elements are together now to answer the question: Who is an integrated person? Who Is an Integrated Person? An integrated Christian person is the one who has developed his poten-tials fully, and thus he became whole. He lives his life with all the intensity his resources allow. He experiences God's presence and power in his inner-most being, and he builds the kingdom of God through external action. In a small scale, he revives something of the mystery of the Incarnation. He is in this world, and he is attentive to all that happens around him. He brings his intelligence to bear on all facts and events. Through his in-sights, he penetrates deeper than the apparent truth. He is liberated enough to see new possibilities, and, once he has decided on a course of action, he is

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 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 21.6 of the Review for Religious, 1962. ; JOHN XXIII Letter to Religious Women TheI largest church of Christianity is being prepared to receive the fathers of Vatican Council ii. On October 11 will begin the great meeting which has been the object of the prayerful expectation of al! Catholics and We may add of all men of good will. This is a solemn hour in the history of the Church, for it is a matter of stirring up the forces of spiritual renovation which the Church always possesses so that a new dynamism can .be communicated to the activities and the institutions of her age-long history. The clergy are already reciting the Breviary every day in union with Us for the successful outcome of the ecu-menical Council.2 The laity, especially children, the sick, and the old, have frequently been asked to offer prayer and sacrifice for the same purpose; and they have re-sponded with generous promptness. All are eager to offer their help, for the Council is assuming the role of ',a new Pentecost."s In such a climate of zealous preparation it is natural that those should distinguish themselves who have made a total offering of themselves to God and who have given thermelves to the exercise of. fervent prayer and charity. Beloved daughters, the Church has gathered you under her protective mantle; she has approved your constitu-tions; she has defended your rights; she has derived and will continue to derive great benefits from your works. As an expression of gratitude for what you have done up to x This letter, I1 tempio raassimo, is translated from the Italian text as given in Osservatore Romano, July 8, 1962, pp. 1-2. 2Apostolic Exhortation Sacrae. Laudis, January 60 1962, in Acta Apostolicae $edis, v. 54 (1962), pp. 66-75. ~Prayer for the Council in Acta ApOstolicae Sedis, v. ~51 (1959), p. 832. ÷ ÷ ÷ l~ligious Womtn VOLUME 21, 1962 493 ÷ ÷ John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS now and as a joyful hope.for your future work, the'words of the Apostle may be deservedly applied to you: ¯. making mention of you in my prayers, that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may grant you the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the deep knowledge of him: the eyes of your mind being enlightened, so that you may know what is the hope of his calling, what the riches of his .inher-itance in the saints. (Eph 1: 15-18). I would ask you to give every consideration to this let-ter; in the words of the humble Vicar of Christ hear what the Divine Master wishes to suggest to each of you. The preparation for the Council demands that the women consecrated to the Lord according to approved canonical forms should reconsider wi~h renewed fervor the duties of their vocation.In this way your response when the enact-ments of the Council are made will be prompt and gener-ous, for it will have been prepared for by a deeply intense endeavor of personal sanctification. In order that life consecrated to God should always cor-respond in the best way possible to the desires of the Divine Heart, it is necessary that it be 1) a life of prayer, 2) a life of example, and 3) a life of the apostolate. THE LIFE OF PRAYER Here Our thoughts turn especially to the nuns and sisters of the contemplative and penitential life. As We re-distributed the candles given to Us on February 2, 1961, the feast of the Presentation of our Lord in the temple, We remarked: The first destination of the candles, religious houses with the strictest rules of mortification and penance, is meant to re-affirm once more the p~:eeminence of the duties of worship and of total consecration to a life of prayer over every other form of apostolate; and at the same time it is meant to emphasize the greatness of vocations to this way of life and the need of vocations to it? This corresponds to a truth that is universally valid even for religious women of a predominantly active life: the interior life is the only foundation and the only soul of every apostolate. All of you should meditate on this truth, you who are rightly called quasi apes argumentosae because of your continual exercise of the fourteen works of mercy in sisterly conjunction with your fellow sisters. So also those of you who are consecrated to God in secular institutes must draw from prayer all the efficacy of your enterprises. Like every other form of societal living, life that is of-fered to the Lord entails difficulties and sacrifices. Only ' Discorsi,Messaggi, Colloqui di Sua Santitd Giovanni XXIlI, v. 3 (Vatican City: Vatican Polyglot Press, 1962), p. 143. prayer will obtain the gift of happy perseverance. The good works to which you are dedicated will not always be crowned with success; disillusionment, misunderstand-ing, ingratitude await you. Without the help of prayer you will not be able to bear up on your difficult road. You should not forget that a misunderstood dynamism can lead you to fall into that "heresy of action" reproved by Our predecessors. If this danger is avoided, then you can be confident that you are truly cooperators in the salvation of souls :and you will add many merits to your reward. All of you, those devoted to the contemplative life as well as those in the active life, should understand the meaning of the expression, "a life of prayer." It does not mean a mechanical repetition of formulas; it is rather the indispensable means of intimacy with our Lord and of a better comprehension of the dignity of the daughters of God and of the spouses of the Holy Spirit, that "gentle Guest of the soul" who speaks to those who know how to listen in recollection. Your prayer should be nourished by the wellsprings of a profound knowledge of Sacred Scripture, especially of the New Testament; it will be further fostered by the liturgy and the teaching of the Church in all its fullness. Holy Mass should be the center of each day in such a way that each action becomes both a prepar~ation and:a thanks-giving for it. Holy Communion is the daily food which will sustain, comfort, and strengthen you. In this way you will avoid the danger of lacking oil for your lamps as did the foolish virgins in the parable. You will find yourselves ready for everything: for glory and for ignominy, for health and for sickness, for continuing your work and for dying--"Behold the bridegroom comes, go out to meet him" (Mt 25:6). And here it will be useful to recall to you once more the often repeated statement of what We consider to be the three fundamental devotions even for the simple faith-ful: "For the understanding and. encouragement of the adoration of Christ, there is nothing better than to con-sider and to invoke Him under the triple light of His Name, His Heart, and His Blood."5 The Name, the Heart, the Blood of Christ: these are the substantial nourishment of a solid life of piety. The Name of Jesusl In all truth, Nil canitur suavius, Nil auditur iucundius, Discourse at the close o[ the Roman Synod in dcta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 52 (1960i, ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 21, 1962 4. 4. + .John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 496 Nil cogitatur dulcius, Quam Iesus Dei Filius. Song never was so sweet in ear, Word never was such news to hear, Thought half so sweet there is not one, As Jesus God the Father's Son.6 The Heart of Jesusl In his encyclical "Haurietis Aquas'" of May 15, 1956 (which we recommend to your attentive reflection), Pius XII of venerable memory remarked: If the reasons for devotion to the wounded Heart of Christ ~re duly considered, it should-become clear to all that this is not an ordinary form of piety which one can esteem less than other devotions or regard as a minor matter; rather it is a form of worship perfectly adaptedto lead to the attainment of Chris-tian perfection.~ The Blood of Christi "This is the loftiest sign of the ¯ redemptive sacrifice of Christ which is mystically and really renewed in holy Mass; it gives meaning and orienta-tion to all Christian fife.''s A LIFE OF EXAMPLE These are. the words of Christ: "I have given you an example, that as Ihave done to you, so you also should do" (Jn 13:15). To those who desire to follow the steps of Christ faithfully is presented the practice of the evangeli-cal counsels, "the royal road of Christian sanctification.''6 Poverty Christ was born in a stable; during His public life He had no place to lay His head at night (Mt 8:20); and He died on the naked cross. The first condition that He laid down for those who wish to follow Him was this: "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven" (Mt 19:2f). You have been drawn by the example and teaching of our Divine Master; you have offered all to Him: "I have offered all these things joyfully" (1 Chr 29:17). It is in the light of the imitation of the poor Christ that your vow receives its full value; daily you must content ~ourself with what is indispensable; what is superfluous you should give under obedience to the poor and to good works; the e Vesper-Hymn of the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus; [the English translation is that of Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J.]. ~ dcta dpostolicae Sedis, v. 48 (19.56)¢ p. 346. 8 Discourse to the Religious Family of the Most Precious Blood, June 2, 1962 (Osservatore Romano, July 3, 1962). e Encyclical Letter Sacerdotii Nostri Primordia in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 51 (1959), pp. 550-51. ~ unknown of tomorrow, sickness, old age--these should be entrusted tO Divine Providence after prudent provisions have been taken. Detachment from the goods of the earth attracts general attention since it shows to all that poverty is neither stingi-ness nor avarice; it makes persons reflect seriously on the divine words: "What profit does a man make by gaining the whole world while losing his soul?" (Mt 16:26). Live your vow or your promise to the full, for it makes you like Him who, though rich, became, poor in order that we might become rich through His poverty (see 2. Cor 8:9). In this matter there will be no lack of temptation such as the seeking of small comforts or satisfacti6n in food or the use of goods. Poverty, as you know, has its thorns which must be painful because they will become the roses of heaven. Again the need for legitimate modernization may be-come excessive by ostentation in construction and equip-ment, matters that have sometimes occasioned comments that were scarcely favorable even if there was no question of the modest rooms of the sisters. But understand this well, beloved daughters; it is not Our intention to say that what is indispensable for physical health and for reason-able and needful recreation is contrary to poverty. Never-theless, may the eye of the Divine Master never be sad-dened by that elegance which can have a negative influence on the interior life of persons consecrated~to. God when they live in surroundings which lack the atmosphere of austerity. Let poverty be held in great honor among all of you. We wish to extend a special word of comfort to clois-tered nuns for whom "sister poverty" often becomes "sister indigence." Christ, the Son of God become poor, will be your consolation. Meanwhile in His name We Ourselves stretch out Our hands for you to your fellow sisters who are in a better economic state and to generous benefactors. We encourage the enterprises begun in this connection by the federations of cloistered nuns under the direction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious. And We recall to all of you the divine promise: "Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God" (Lk 6:20). Angelic Chastity We read in the Gospels how jesus suffered and 'how great were the injuries that afflicted Him. Bu~' from Beth-lehem to Calvary the splendor which radiated from His divine purity always increased and won over the people. So great was the austerity and the charm o[ His deport-ment. So also must you be, beloved daughters. Blessed are the carefulness, the mortifications, and the renunciations ÷ ÷ I~ligious Women VOLUME 21, 1962 497 4. 4. 4. John XXIll with which you seek to make more radiant the virtue about. which Pius XII wrote a memorable encyclical letter.1° Live the lessons of.the encyclical; let your conduct show to all that chastity is not only possible but that it is a social virtue which is forcefully defended by prayer, vigi-lance, and the mortification of the senses. May your example show that your heart is not enclosed in a sterile egoism but that it has chosen the indispensable condition for making itself solicitous for the needs of the neighbor. For this purpose cultivate the rules of good man-ners. We repeat: cultivate and make use of them without paying attention to those who would introduce into your life a mode of behavior less adapted to rightful respect and reserve. In your apostolic works reject the theory of those who do not speak or speak very little of modesty and decency so that there may be introduced into methods of education criteria and orientations in opposition to the teaching of the Sacred Books and of Catholic tradition. Even though on the one hand materialism,.theoretical or practical, is a threat and though on the other hand hedonism and corruption wish to break all barriers, Our soul is restored to serenity by the contemplation of the angelic bands who have offered their chastity and who through their prayer and sacrifice draw down on the erring the marvels of divine mercy in a propitiation of pardon for the sins of individuals and of peoples. Obedience The Apostle St. Paul has developed the theme of the humiliation of Christ made obedient even to the death of the cross (Eph 2:8). In order to follow the Divine Master better, you are bound to Him by a vow or promise of obedience. This continual immolation of one's own "I," this annihilation of one's self, can be very costly; but it is also true that victory lies here (see Prv 21:28), because to this spiritual crucifixion there corresponds heavenly graces for you and for humanity. The teaching of the Church is clear and precise con-cerning the inalienable rights of the human person. The peculiar endowments of each person must be allowed to develop in a fitting way in order that each one may corre-spond with the gifts received from God. All this is a recog-nized thing. But if one passes from respect for the person to the exaltation of personality and to the affirmation of personalism, the dangers become great. There are valu-able directives also for you in the words of Pius XII in his exhortation Menti Nostrae: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Encyclical Sacra Virginittu in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 46 (1954), In an age such as this in which the principle of authority is greatly shaken, it is absolutely necessary that the priest, stand-ing firm on the principles of faith, should consider and accept authority not only as the bulwark of the social and religious orders, but also as the foundation of his own personal sanctifi-cation. 11 At this point Our discussion continues by directing it-self to thbse who have the responsibility and the duty of directing others. Demand the most generous obedience to the rules; but at the same time be understanding toward your fellow sisters; encourage in each the development of natural aptitudes. The duty of superior.s is to make obedi-ence lovable and not to obtain a merely external deference and mu~h less to impose unbearable burdens. Beloved daughters, We exhort all of you to live accord-ing to the spirit of this virtue which is nourished by deep humility, absolute disinterestedness, and complete detach-ment. When obedience has become the program of all of life, then the words of St. Catherine of Siena will be under-stood: "How sweet and glorious is this virtue in which all the other virtues are containedt Obedience, you sail without fatigue and without danger you arrive at the harbor of salvation. You are conformed to the only Son, the Word . ; you set sail in the bark of the holy cross, bringing yourself to remain firm and not to neglect the obedience of the Word nor to abandon His teaching . You are great in your perseverance; you are so great since you stretch from heaven to earth, for heaven is un-locked by you.= THE LIFE OF THE APOSTOLATE St. Paul teaches that the mystery revealed to us by God, the plan conceived from all eternity in Christ and come to realization in Him in the fullness of' time, is this: "To re-establish all things in Christ, both those in heaven and those on earth" (Eph 1:10). No one who consecrates him- .self to the Lord is dispensed from the sublime duty of continuing the salvific mission of the Divine Redeemer. The Church has special and great expectations with re-gard to those who live in the silence of the cloister. Like Moses, they hold their arms uplifted in prayer, conscious that in this suppliant attitude victory is gained. So im-portant is the contribution of religious of the contem-plative. life to tl~e apostolate that as the co-patron of the missions and hence as the equal of St. Francis Xavier Pius XI did not choose a sister of the active life but a Carmelite, St. Theres~ of the Child Jesus. You must be spiritually present to all the needs of the Church militant.' No misfortune, no loss, no calamity ~ Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 42 (1950), pp. 662-63. ~Dialogue, c. 155. 4. 4. 4. Religiot~s Woraen VOLUME 21, 1962 499 ÷ ÷ ÷ John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS should find. you a stranger. No scientific discovery, no cul-tural meeting, no social or political gathering should make you think: "These are things that do not concern me." May the Church militant perceive your presence wherever there is a request for your spiritual contribution, to the good of souls and also to true human progress .and to universal peace. May the souls in Purgatory receive your suffrages that the beatific vision may come to them more speedily. United to the choirs of the angels and the saints, continue to repeat the eternal Alleluia to the august~ Trinity. Those who are dedicated to the active life should recall that not only prayer but also work will bring it about that the new course of society draws nourishment from the Gospel and that everything be done to the glory of God and for the salvation of souls. Since persons can not be used in the area of schools, of charity, and of assistance, if they are not prepared for the increased needs which modern conditions impose, exert yourselves under obedience to complete your studies and to take a diploma, quick to overcome all difficulties. In this way there will be a higher appreciation not only of your tried and tested ability but also of your spirit of dedica-tion, of patience, and of sacrifice. Moreover, further needs show themselves in the new countries that have entered the community of free nations. Without affection for one's own land being diminished, the entire world, more than in the past, has become our common fatherland. Many sisters have already heard the call. The field is immense. It is useless to lament that the children of this world have arrived before the apostles of Christ. Lamenting solves nothing; what is necessary is to bestir one's self, to anticipate, to be confident. Nor are the sisters dedicated to contemplation excluded from this duty. In some regions of Africa and of the Far East the inhabitants are more attracted by the contem-plative life since it is more congenial to the development of their culture. Some social classes which are more cul-turally advanced regret that the dynamic life of the mis-sionaries can have only a small degree of coincidence with their way of conceiving religion and of adhering to Chris: tianity. Thus you see, beloved, daughters, how great are the motives that lead to the encouragement of national and international meetings of superiors general that have beer; called by the Sacred Congregation of~ Religious. In this way you are enabled to adapt yourselves better to modern conditions, to profit by common experiences, and to con-~, i sole yourselves with the thought that the Church pos-I sesses a valorous throng of persons capable of meeting every obstacle. The consecrated souls of the new secular institutes know that their work is also appreciated; and they are encour-aged to contribute to the penetration of the Gospel into every phase of the mod6rh world: Those in positions of great responsibility should be dis-tinguished by competence, hard work, and a sense of re-sponsibility. They should also be distinguished by the ensemble of virtues that grace builds up lest persons be put in charge whobase themselves only On human wisdom and on the power of economic, scientific, and technical means: "It is in the name of the Lord our God that we are strong" (Ps 19:8). We invite all of you who are souls consecrated to the Lord in the contemplative or the active life to draw close to each other in charity. May the Spirit of Pentecost rest upon your families, uniting them in that oneness of soul which was manifest in the Cenacle where together with the Mother of God and the Apostles pious women were present (Acts 1:14). CONCLUSION These are Our desires, Our prayers, Our hopes. On the vigil of Vatican Council II the Church has summoned all the faithful, proposing to each of them a state of mind of awareness, of testimony, and of courage. Be among the first, beloved daughters, to cultivate a holy enthusiasm. On this point the Imitation of ChriSt has some touching words: We should daily renew our pqrposes and stir ourselves up to greater fervor as though this were the first day of our conver-sion. Each day we should say: "Help, me, my God, in this my good purpose and in Your holy service; and grant that I may now begin this day perfectly; for what I have done up to now is as nothing" (Bk I, c.19). May the Mother of Jesus and our Mother enkindle you with a new fervorl Have trust in your heavenly Mother and at the same time grow in familiarity with her spouse St. Joseph, the patron of Vatican Council II. Pray also to the saints that are held in particular honor in your various institutes in order that they may unite their powerful in-tercession to obtain that "holy Church reunited in unani-mous and intense prayer around Mary the Mother of Christ and guided by Peter may spread the kingdom of the Divine Savior, a kingdom of truth, of justice, of love, and of peace." The apostolic blessing which We impart to all religious communities and to each person consecrated to God is a + + + Religious Women sign of heavenly favor and of encouragement in a life and an activity for good "in the Church and in Christ Jesus" (Eph 3:21). From the Apostolic Vatican Palace, the second day o[ July of the year 1962, the fourth of Our pontificate. JOHN XXlII ÷ + + John XXIII REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ELIO GAMBARI, S.M.M. Teaching. Sister in, the Church The purposet of my conference will be to indicate the position, function, and mission of the teaching sister in the Church considered as the perfect juridical society founded by our Lord, for the salvation ,and sanctification of souls. Its purpose is also to respond to certain rumors which are spreading in certain places--this does not seem to be the case in France--and which tend to affirm that the teaching sister assumes a role in the Church and in society which does not belong to her but rather pertains to other types of persons. According to this opinion the teaching sister is merely substituting in a task which in normal condi-tions belongs to others. In this pap~er we shall consider not only the sister's right to exist in the Church but also her special position of commitment with its dignity, rights, and egpecially its duties and obligations. In the Church everything, including dignities and rights, is service; indeed, I should rather say that espe-cially dignities and rights are ~services. If the position of the sister in the Church is a special one, then it necessarily follows that this position carries with it correspondingly greater obligations and duties, which impregnate and ab-sorb the life of the religious institute and of the individual religious. Religious life enlists everything to be found in the person who is marked, with the character of religious. It is my opinion that from the matters to be presented here, whether considered individually or collectively, there will spontaneouslyflow important consequences for teaching sisters with respect to their mission in the per- 1This article is translated with permission from the original French entitled "Le mandat de la religieuse enseignante dans l'Eglise!' which appeared in Ecole chrdtienne et monde d'aujourd'hui pub-lished by the Union des Religieuses Enseignantes de France; 20 rue Gay=Lussac; Pads 5, France. Elio Gambad, S.M.M;; Via dei Monfortani 41; Rome 934, Italy, is an official of the Sa-cred Congregation of 'Religious. VOLUME 2"]., 1962 503 l~iio Ga$m.Mba.M~,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 504 spective of the Church; this applies perhaps even more so to superiors, since these have the responsibility of form-ing and guiding religious ,teachers. It is my intention to present this subject from a prin-cipally juridical aspect. In recent years there have been a number of publications which have stressed the theologi-cal and even the mystical aspect of teaching; there is, for instance, the work of Father d'Alzon on the mystique of teaching. But I do not think that the juridical position of the teaching sister in the Church has been sufficiently treated; certainly it has not been treated exhaustively. After recalling that the mission of the Church is to teach and to form followers of Christ, I shall show how this proper mission of the Church is communicated to religious and that they partidipate in this mission by the establishment of the religious institute, by the approbation of the constitutions and rules which direct the life and activity of religious, and by the content of the vows of religion. I shall then consider with you some of the char-acteristics of the mission confided by the Church to teach-ing sisters and shall conclude by emphasizing the conse-quences ¯ that result from this mission. The Teaching Mission of the Church The teaching to which sisters d~dicate their lives is linked to the apostolate and the mission which Christ gave to His Church; moreover, it is linked to the mission of Christ Himself, the divine Teacher. The apostolate of education, taken as a whole in its general aspect, is a mis-sion, a function, a mandate for our Lord, for the Church," and for the religious herself. This assertion is verified first of all in the case of Him who is the Teacher par excellence, the unique Teacher Christ who is given the name of Divine Master. Christ came on earth with a mission of education and of teach-ing; He came to communicate life through knowledge of the Father. "I have come that they may know you, the one true God, and him whom you have sent." Before the judgment seat of Pilate Christ made this statement about Himself: "I have come to give testimony to Truth." The Word of God, since 'He is the consub-stantial Image of the Father, must by His very nature manifest and radiate the Truth; He must transmit the light which emanates from the Father. He has described Himself by saying "I am the truth." Those who follow Him and who have accepted His message are His disciples. Such is the mission of Christ our Lord, a mission of education and of teaching; such also is the mission which He has given the Chu¢ch. When He sent His apostles, how else did He express Himself except" by saying "Go, teach": [i make disciples, communicate the truth? Hence the founder of one of the first institutes of religious dedicated to teach-ing, St. Joseph Calasanctius, has correctly said: "Educators are the fellow laborers of truth"; and another saint has called them "sowers of divinity." This mission of edu~a~iofi and 0f teaching is destined to engender Christ in souls, to communicate to them this substantial Truth. Here let us recall the magnificent definition of teaching given by Pope Pius XI in 'the en-cyclical Divini Illius Magistri: the continuation of the Incarnation of Christ in souls. . Even a rapid glance at the rich collection of pontifical documents which treat of education will show us that the educative mission of the Church is presented as a gener-ating of Christ, as a formation of the Christian by a com-munication to him of divine life and of the charity which should inflame the whole world and thus bring truth to realization by means of this charity. The educative mission of the Church is based on her power of teaching and on her maternal, role. The Church, whom we frequently call "holy Mother Church," is essen-tially maternal; as such she is also an educator. Is not education one of the duties that result from maternity; is it not the prolongation of motherhood? In the same way in the case of the Church, her function and m~ssion of edu(ation is the prolongation of her maternal mission. This mission which the divine Founder gave to the Church in which He wished to perpet~Jate HimSelf shows the Chux~ch to us in her~ double aspect of a mystical organ-ism and of a juridical organism, as the mystical Christ and the juridical Christ perpetuated in a permanent way through the course of time by the Church as Pius XII has told us in so masterl~ a way in the encyclical Mystici Cor-poris. From this educative role and mission the Church de-rives her rights and duties. All of us of the present time know the pressing necessity she is under to defend her rights and prerogatives in the area of teaching. Canon 1375 at~irms the right of the Church not only to teach and preach religion but also to found schools of every type; the Church maintains this not as a privilege nor as a substitu-tional function when others fail their duty but as an innate right by virtue of her foundation and of her role. History confirms the exercise of this right by the Church. She it was who has maintained culture in the world, even under its civic.fispects. It has been she who founded and approved universities--theology at Paris, law at Bologna, medicine at Montpellier. All these universities have an ecclesial character. This is important, for even today the Church exercises ÷ ÷ ÷ Th~ Teaching Sister VOLUMI~ 21, 1962 505 ÷ ÷ ElioGamba~ S.M.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 506 her right of teaching and of founding schools of every type. This right she exercises in great part through re-ligious institutes. By means of these institutes which serve her as ministers, the Church has her own schools with a completely ecclesial character; they are schools not of the state nor even of families but of the Church herself. And the Church communicates her own rights to the men and women by whom she accomplishes her mission. All of this shows that the Church's right to teach and to educate is not limited to religious instruction in the proper sense Of that word but also extends to all other matters the purpose of which is the formation of the spirit, of the heart, and of the will; it includes everything which is a means to charity and to love. Other papers of this convention have spoken to you compellingly, instructively, and ardently of the way to construct and rebuild the world and of the way to radiate the message of Christ in the world. This radiation and this reconstruction are not done merely by religious instruction in the strict sense of the word but by a religious instruc-tion that permeates all other matters. Every ray of truth, every treasure of goodness and beauty comes from God and leads back to God; it is by reason of this treasure of truth and goodness that one can lead the world to God. The philosopher Antonio Rosminl has written magnifi-cent pages on this aspect of education and on that unity of education which seeks to insert man and the Christian into the divine plan.2 It is this final!ty that justifies the Church's presence in schools of every kind from the pri-mary level up through the university. The place of the Church in education is linked to her authority. The teaching given by the Church is not merely a statement of the truth; it is rather a presentation of the truth made with authority but without violating con-sciences. Men speak of respect for freedom of conscience; the Church desires that the acceptance of the message of Christ be consciously voluntary; otherwise there can be neither education nor formation. The Church's right to instruct is connected with her power of jurisdiction which includes the two aspects of teaching and of ministry. But the Church instructs by presenting her truth in a way in which it will be accepted. She must prepare the human mind to welcome the truth; for these minds are made for truth as the will and the heart are made for goodness. It is the work of the Church and of those who represent the Church to present truth in ~ Antonio Rosmini, Sulla unittl dell'educazione (Rome: Tipografia del Senato, 1913). a way that corresponds to the exigencies of the mind and the needs of the heart. Communication of the Church's Mission Even when she takes into.account all the Earying de-grees of ministers in the hierarchy of orders and of juris-diction, the Church finds herself unable to attain by her-self an integral realization of her teaching mission. She must then--and this is so especially at the present time-- have recourse to the assistance of her other members. In our own times how providential has been the appeal to the laity to collaborate with the Church and to feel them-selves united in the action of the Church as participants in the mission of the Church. If she used only the hier-archy, how could the Church exercise among all nations her entire teaching function of formal religious training and of Christian formation by means of general teaching? Let us here recall that the Church seeks the aid and collaborati6n of other persons in a twofold way. First of all, the Church stresses the duties which flow from the natural law. So, for example, with regard to the family, it pertains to the parents to pro~)ide their children with an education. The Church calls them to fulfill this ob-ligation and to exercise their inalienable and pressing rights. Perhaps we too easily forget that families have an obligation to obtain for their children an education and that a Christian one. Besides this, the Church recalls the duty which devolves on every Christian as a result of baptism and confirmation'. Every Christian has the d~ity of radiating God, of making God known. Karl Marx, I believe, once said: "It is easy to be a saint if one is not solidary with society, if one does not feel responsible for society." What is true for every man in so far as he is social is particularly true for every member of (he Mystical Body. Each one is bound to the others by reason of baptism and confirmation. In an important text St. Thomas declares that "the con-firmed by reason of his state has the obligation of making the Church kno~vn, of defending her, and of spreading the doctrine of the Church." This is why the Church faces each Christian with his duty to collaborate. She emphasizes the consequences of baptism and of confirmation; and natu-rally she urges these consequences especially in the case of those whose situation permits them to aid her more easily. This is the reason why she.insists so solicitously that all Catholic educators be faithful to their baptismal com-mitments. These commitmems, it is true, are proper to all Christians; but among educators the practical possi-bilities are much greater. All Catholic educators, no .mat-ter at what level they teach, precisely because they are ÷ ÷ ÷ The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 5O7 + ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, S.M.M. REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS Catholic, should feel th~ obligation they.have to exercise their educative charge for the purpose of aiding the Church to realize her mission. I state this here because it is highly important that re-ligious teachers, when .preparing future teachers, should recall this fundamental duty of every Christian without consideration of membership in this or that association. It is not Only the teachers and other instructors belonging to organizations of Catholic Action who are bound to exercise the apostolate of teaching; every'teacher and every professor is so bound. Religious who form teachers must show them their special responsibility for this com-munication of truth and of Christian truth. There is a duty to radiate truth, divine.truth. His Excellency Bishop Ancel has recalled to us the missionary character of the school; the foregoing is an occasion to realize, propagate, and radiate this missionary character. The Church has recourse to the cooperation of the laity by giving them a particular charge, by conferring on them a mission and a responsibility, and by making them sharers in her own mission and rights. There is no doubt that the Church can commfinicate to others ithe mission that is proper to herself. This she does through the various de-grees of the hierarchy which are of ecclesiastical institu-tion. Nevertheless, the Church's power of delegating her proper mission is not limited to persons engaged in the hierarchy of jurisdiction or orders. She can also com-municate it to other persons without at the same time mak-ing them enter the hierarchy. It is in this way that she calls the laity to participate in her mission and hence to act and to teach in the name of the Church. The Church realizes this communication by making use of the riches of the kind of priesthood given to every Christian in baptism. To the title proper to baptism there is added a further title which unites itself to that of Christian and which is given to the Christian by the Church. It would be disastrous to build up in the Church an almost impregnable wall between the hierarchy and the faithful as though the hierarchy were the only active element and the faithful were p.urely passive. All of us know that according to the divine will a difference exists between clerics and laity, between :the various members of the hierarchy and those who are not part of the hier-archy. There can be no question of making the Church a democracy; nevertheless, those who are not members of the hierarchy do not form an exclusively passive element. Every Christian must be active; and, in some cases, the Church adds a further title to the activity of every Chris-tian. About this possibility of delegation there can be no doubt. On October 5, 1957, during the Congress of the ~.Apostolate of the Laity,' Plus XlI clarified once and for all this possibilityof communicating to the laity a mis-sion, a mandate, a canonical mission. "It is the same canonical mission," he said, "that the Church wishes to communicate to priests and to lay persons; but it'is exer-cised by the former in so far as they are priests; it will be exercised by lay persons in so far as they are lay persons."8 This communication of the Church's proper mission to lay persons can be realized in different degrees. In the Church there is a providential and.remarkable variety of forms. The Church is a living ~and fecund reality; she pos-sesses within herself an abundance of riches which she manifests in the course of history according to the needs of the times and of the persons she must lead to God."Ac-cordingly the teaching mission, of the Church can be com-municated tO lay persons in a greater or lesser degree, (When I speak of a lesser degree, I have no intention of minimizing the role of those who participate in the mis-sion of the Church in a limited degree. Every vocation in the Church is excellent and we must avoid comparisons for they are always odioug.) The lesser degree is that which the Church entrusts to lay persons who juridically remain in the position of simple lay persons. The fact that they are invited to work with the Church does not separate them from other lay persons; it does ,not make them a special class in the Church. They rerfiain lay persons liv-ing in the world under the same conditions as the other faithful. Nevertheless, one can say--I am thinking here espe-cially of Catholic Action organizations--that the Church adds a new title to that which these Catholics already possess as private persons. They possess their private title as well as a title given, to them by civil authority for the exercise of the profession of teaching. (When I speak here of civil authority I am referring to the area in which civil authority is competent; unfortunately we all know from experience that it can exceed its competency.) Civil au-thority for the sake of the public good can organize the preparation required for the exercise of certain functions. To this title which lay persons possess the Church adds a supplementary title, an ecclesial one, which, as I have said, does not remove them from their fundamental con-dition. Their association with the educative mission of the Church is, let us say, a generic one; it involves a part of their time and Of their capabilities; it ennobles their work and gives them a certain representativeness of the Church. s Les Lai'ques dam l'Eglise. Documents du DeuxiOme Congr~s Mon-dial pour l'Apostolat des Lai'ques, Rome, 5"13 octobre, 1957. V. 1, pp. 14-16. + + + The Tea~hlng Sister VOLUME 21, 19(:,2 509 ÷ ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, S.M.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In the Congress on the Lay Apostolate which I.have al-ready mentioned, Cardinal Montini in the course of a conference treated the different degrees of ecclesial repre-sentativeness conferred on lay persons; he emphasized the role which they.possess o[ representing the Church in a more or less varied way according to the varying ecclesial context. One must not think that a member of Catholic Action is representing the Church in all his actions and in all his different activities. The Cardinal also emphasized the fact that the repre-sentative role of lay persons is proportioned to the ec-clesiastical character of the profession and of .their activ-ity; they are not representative of the Church in everything and for everything. A Catholic professor, for example, is not the representative of the Church in his other activi-ties; he possesses an ecclesial personality which is limited to a determined sphere and to a special sector; in other words he possesses a mandate. Even here the degree of representativeness is not always the same; and the passage from ecclesial representativeness to individual activity is a gradual one. On different occasions the ~sembly of the Cardinals and Archbishops of France have clearly deline-ated the mandate that is given to lay persons; likewise. Pius XII spoke of the mandate conferred on Catholic Action: "Carry. out the mandate which the Church has given to the members of Catholic Action." Here again there is question of a mandate which leaves lay persons in their proper situation; it organizes them indeed into a juridical entity, but this entity is not so profound or so absorbing as to change their condition. The mandate of collaboration with the Church which is conferred on the members of Catholic Action, while it is a true mandate, yet does not transform their juridical condition: they re-main private persons. Over and beyond this lesser degree of representativeness of the Church there is a greater degree given to lay per-sons; it involves a greater degree of association with the teaching mission of the Church; it is the degree given to religious who are destined and consecrated to education. To these the Church communicates a mandate and a mis-sion which makes them share her proper mission in the highest degree possible short of entrance into the ranks of the hierarchy. I would almost say that teaching religious reach to the very limits of the hierarchy. Nevertheless, we must .not be presumptuous and desire to enter the hierarchy. However, religious devoted to edu-cation are completely invested with an ecclesial function; by this fact they become representatives of the Church--, always and in all their actions and activities. In the action and activities of religious we can not introduce the dis- tinctions which can be made in the case of ordinary lay persons. Since they are entirely consecrated to the mission of the Church, they are completely invested with this ec-clesial representation; they no longer work as private per-sons called by reason of their profession to aid the Church and to collaborate with her in cert~iin ways according as time and the dutiesof their state in life permit. Religious, however, have only one duty in their state of life: to work for the Church and in the name of the Church. Religious do not merely have one title which is added to another; rather their title and their rights are conferred on them entirely by the Church. Both in educa-tion and in teaching they possess a mandate given them by. the Church, and the juridical position they enjoy is entirely communicated to them by the Church. This does not exclude the fact that to this ecclesial title there may be added other titles; for example, that given them by families. Families have the right to choose the educators of their children; hence they can choose re-ligious. In this case the family communicates its rights to these religious. Nevertheless, their fundamental right remains the one communicated to them. by the Church herself. So also the state can give a title to religious, but tills will always be a secondary one. The right of religious to teach depends neither on the will of the parents nor on the will of the state. We realize, of course, that parents have a right to teach and this independently of the Church. Religious teaching goes back to the Church who communicates her rights and her obligations to religious as her ministers. Accordingly religious are invested with a mission and a mandate that is totally ecclesial; it is such at every moment and in every circumstance. The teaching done by religious is performed in the Church for the good of the Church in the name of the Church. Religious, let it be repeated, are invested with the very personality of the Church. It is the Church, a per-fect society and a juridical one, that teaches and instructs through them. This should be clearly fixed in the minds both of superiors and of teaching religious. Perhaps some may think that I insist overly much on the idea that religious have an ecclesial mandate. I think, however, that it is fundamental because all their obliga-tions and r!ghts flow therefrom. Their responsibility is rooted in this communication of a mandate, in this ec-clesial function which, as I have said, becomes their whole reason of existence. They do not contribute their, hours of time accordingly as their taste impels them to their work; they are not their own masters; they belong to the Church and precisely for this function. They have a moral and juridical obligation in conscience to be at the disposi- + + + The Teaching Si~ter VOLUME 21, 1962 511 ÷ ÷ ÷ llliO Gambarl, S.M .M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tion of the Church and to perform everything that the Church demands of them. One can and should apply to teaching religious the magnificent remark of Pius XII to hospital religious at the Congress of 1957: "It is the Church that supports the feeble steps of the old." And the Pope went on to give an almost poetic description of the Church which in the per-. son of the hospital sister assists the dying, the newly born, the aged; this description the Pope repeated in his great encyclical Sacra Virginitas. Pius XII was a poet but also a jurist. What the Pope said on these occasions to hospital. religious is also true of all religious and of teaching re-ligious in particular. While charitable assistance, hospital or social, can be assumed by other organizations, religious formation can not be; it is proper to the Church. Hence the statement made by the Pope should be given a'juridi-cal justification; we must show its juridical foundation. The Juridical Foundation One can well ask how the teaching.religious becomes invested with a mandate; furthermore what arethe juridi-cal foundations of this mandate? To this we reply that the religiousis invested with a mandate because his institute has been established by the Church, because the constitu-tions and rules have been approved by the Church, and because the religious vows, since they are public, have been received by the Church. Establishment oI the .Religious Institute Religious institutes are juridical organizations formally founded by the Church for a definite apostolic purpose. The true founder of a religious institute is not this or that mother, or this or that saint. The formal founder is the Church; she is therefore for us holy Mother Church in a double sense. Founders only prepare the matter to which the Church gives the breath of life. The whole pur-pose of these institutes is entirely ecclesial; this purpose gives them an existence that is not a private matter but a public one; consequently their ,existence touches on the fundamental constitution of the Church. The juridical existence given by the Church to a re-ligious family is different in nature from the one she gives to pious ~issociations or unions of the faithful. One can say, I believe, wittiout fear of denial, that the establish-men~ of a religious institute has cfose analogies with the establishment of a diocese in the sense that the Church is territorially organized for all persons on the basis of dioceses while for some of these persons she is organized on the basis of religious institutes. A religious institute is not a mere spontaneous and free grouping either in its foundation or in its continued ex-istence; once the institute has been established and once one has entered it, one finds oneself linked with a juridi-cal organization which is obligatory both from the view-point of conscience and that of the society as such. While a member of an organization, of a confraternity, or even of Catholic Action, can withdraw for personal reasons without any obligation of giving an account of his de-cision to anyone, this is not the case for religious. They have entered a state that is intimately fundamental to the Church; they no longer belong to themselves but to the Church. It is important to note that a religious institute is not an organization of merely personal and individual perfec-tion and sanctification. The religious institute has a pub-lic function in the Church; it is the. official, juridical, public expression of the holiness of the Church. And it is remarkable to contemplate how in the course of centuries religion, pertaining as it does to individual and public perfection, has enriched itself with the fundamental and basic element that is the apostolate and how it has given rise to religious families essentially consecrated to holiness and the apostolate. This is especially interesting here in France where were born the first religious institutes of women consecrated to the apostolate: the different congregations of the Ursu-lines; the canonesses of St. Augustine of St. Peter Fourier; the Congregation of Religious of Notre Dame of St. Joan de Lestonnac; as well as many others. Besides it was in France that there grew up the congregations which have spread throughout the entire world (for example, the Daughters of Charity, the~ Sisters of St. Joseph). All of these are the first and highly significant examples of these institutes of holiness and the apostolate. What I wish to emphasize at this point is that in these institutes the apostolate is not an accessory, accidental, and secondary element; it is an essential one and as prin-cipal as is the pursuit of perfection. Moreover, this ele-ment of the apostolate shares fully in the institute's public and ecclesial character. The fact that the Church erects an institute for perfection and for the apostolate confers an entirely ecclesial character and mission on the institute. The document that establishes a teaching religious in-stitute determines its finality and its purpose by har-moniously combining the sanctification of its members and the apostolic ideal of education. The juridical ex-istence and character conferred on the institute are shared in by the mission which is assigned it. The apostolate of the institute shares in the juridical nature of the institute itself. Religious life in an institute destined for the apos-÷ ÷ ÷ The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, $.M.M . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 514 tolate is a consecration to God both in perfection and in the apostolate; it is both a state of perfection and a state of the apostolate. Take, for example, the constitutions of the Ursulines, of the religious of the Assumption, and oI other teaching institutes; in them is to be found this fun-damentally apostolic element given them by the Church in such a way that these, institutes and these religious have their whole purpose of existence in this mission. Approbation of the Constilutions The Church not only gives an institute its juridical ex-istence but she also governs it, gives it rules and constitu-tions which derive their force not from the general chap-ter nor from the superior general but from the Church. Hence when the constitutions impose teaching, (t is the Church which imposes it. In this case teaching is not a private initiative stemming from the institute and its members; it is rather an imposition made by the Church, an imposition which may have been requested but which nevertheless does not cease to be a thing that comes from above. This is true to the extent that whatever religious do, they do by reason of a title communicated to them from above; that is, from the.Church. The constitutions, once they have received pontifical approval, become pon-tifical law. One Can and must say that the contents of these laws receive an ecclesial character. The document that establishes the institute and its con-stitutions brings it about that an ecclesial mandate and a canonical mission to teach is given to the institute and that through the institute it passes to the individual mem-bers. The activity of religious is not .left to their personal choice; it is entirely ruled by authority--by an authority that is not private in nature. The Holy Father Plus XII in his discourse to superiors general on February I 1, 1958 --and this applies also to all superiors--stated: "You govern with an authority that I have giyen you; you share in my authority." Accordingly, it is the authority of the Church that regulates the matter of teaching. Public Vows Let me now consider a third point which also illustrates that ecclesial character which perhaps was better ex-pressed in former times by the fact that institutes dedi-cated to teaching wanted from their origin to have a spe-cial vow of education. Thus ihe Ursulines, the canonesses, the Brothers of the Christian Schools took a vow to conse-crate themselves to teaching. This vow was a public one like the other vows of religion; hence it was accepted by the Church, sanctioned by the Church, offered to God ifil the name of the Church, and--what is most important-~ lived in the name of the Church. This vow expressed the public and ecclesial character of teaching. At the present time this public vow is not explicitly expressed because it is contained in the vow of obedience. Teaching is one of the principal elements of the vow of obedience. In teaching institutes 6he promises obedience above all with regard to being employed in teaching. This is true to such an extent that the articles of the constitu-tions which.concern teaching are not articles which simply oblige one to assume certain obligations; they are ,articles that touch the very purpose of the institute and which oblige in conscience; they regulate the specific purpose of the institute. Religious who have made a vow of obedi-ence are bound by reason of their religious profession to devote themselves to teaching. It is interesting to note how in the history of religious life of apostolic institutes a phenomenon took place that is identical with what hap-pened in the case of contemplative institutes. In their profession ceremonies nuns dedicated to prayer receive the book of the Divine Office in order that they might pray in the name of the Church. What has happened in the case of apostolic institutes? These religious are given the constitutions; through this they are given the children and all those who will benefit by their teaching; the result is that at profession there is realized for each member what was realized for the institute as such at the moment of its establishment and of the approval of its constitu-tions. It is at the moment of profession that the superior gives to the new religious the book of the constitutions and the mandate to work in the name of the Church; the religious is thus consecrated to God in and through teach-ing. The vow of obedience and its entire content gi~ie to the profession a public character; hence the apostolate of teaching also becomes public, exercised, that is to say, in the name of the Church. In the encyclical Sacra Virginitas the Holy Father extols the motherhood of religious who receive in trust young Christian generations to form them in the name of the Church or, better, to continue and de-velop the virginal fecundity of the Church herself. I have recently been reading an interesting study which develops the. comparison between the Church and the Blessed Virgin, between the Church and the religious, in their role of forming Christians. Pontifical Statements These fundamental juridical arguments have been re-echoed in numerous pontifical statements that present teaching religious as collaborators of the Pope. Plus XII at the Congress of Teaching Religious in 1951 thanked ÷ ÷ ÷ The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 515 ÷ ÷ ÷ Elio Gambari, $.M.M . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 516 the members for the valuabl.e work of collaboration they give to the Vicar of Christ. The same Pope at the beatifica-tion of Rose Venerini recalled a remark of Clement XI to the future Blessed: "Madame Rose, you are helping Us to fulfill Our task and you are doing what We could not do by Ourselves; for this We thank you greatly." These words of Clement XI to Rose Venerini have been repeated on numerous occasions by sovereign pontiffs with regard to religious devoted to education. In a document of 1954 concerning teaching brothers sent by the Pope to Cardinal Valeri, the charge and the role confided to teaching re-ligious are emphasized. One could assemble a magnifi-cent anthology of such pontifical declarations relating to the association of teaching religious with the action of the Church, to the work they accomplish for the Church, and to the gratitude of the sovereign pontiffs who have said among other things: "What would We do without you?" Indeed, if religious should one day wish to call a strike in their schools, it is my belief that the greater part of Catholic establishments would be closed. But let us limit ourselves to a few texts: How could the Church have been able in past times to fully accomplish her mission without the help that hundreds of thousands of religious have given so zealously in the fields of education and of charity? How Could she do so in our own time? (Allocution of October 15, 1951). Thanks to the work of your motherly hands., the Church sustains the feebleness of old age; thanks to the tenderness of your hearts, she rekindles the souls of little orphans; and thanks to the ardor of your devotion, she assists the sick . " (Allocution of April 24, 1957). The Church then counts upon you as the appropriate in-struments which priests should use for the perfect formation of young womanhood (Allocution of January 3, 1958). The actual teaching of the Church puts special emphasis on the ecclesial char~icter of the religious; in and through her the Church realizes her purpose, communicates life, and fulfills the work of Christ her Spouse (Sacra Virginitas). Mission of the Teaching Religious Now I wish to emphasize briefly for you certain char-acteristics of the mission which religious have received {tom the.Church. This mission has a juridical, public, pontifical charac-ter. This sharing in the very mission of the Church is given to the religious not by the pastor who requests her for teaching catechism nor even from the bishop; it is given to her by the Pope, the Vicar of Christ. But since everything in the Church should be done according to order, this mission given to religiom by the Pope may be exercised in a territory only with the consent and ratifica-tion of the authority represented by the pastor of the diocese who, in accepting the community, g!ves it the freedom to exercise its work of the apostolate.4 The character of the mission, then, is pontifical; but it must be coordinated with the apostolate of the diocese. And here it is right to make religious realize the necessity of not being a closed city but rather an intense center of collaboration with all the apostolic activities of the dio-cese. It is necessary that each Teligious house be a source Of~ the apostolate not only within itself but around itself. Consequences I turn now to the consequences that flow from the mis-sion conferred on teaching religious by the Church. The first consequence is that the mission of the reli-gious is ecclesial and spiritual, Even if from an exterior viewpoint a religious seems to exercise a profession, this is only an external mark and appearance; interiorly the religious is an apostle; she represents the Church; she ex-ercises a ministry. This is wh~ Plus XII stated that teach-ing is a kind of priesthood and that the teaching religious participates in a certain sense in the priesthood (Allocu-tion of January 4, 1954). And Saint John Baptist de la Salle, who forbade his brothers to become priests since everyone in the Church has his own Cole and comparison should not be made among them, reminded the brothers that teaching is like a priesthood; in a.magnificent medi-tation (number. 195) he applied to teaching brothers everything that the Apostle said about the sacred min-ister: "You are the .dispensers of the mysteries of God; you communicate the bread of the word of God.''5 Like the minister of the altar, the educator breaks the bread of the word of God; he prepares Christian life, the meeting and communion with God. This character also marks the teaching of so-called profane matters. The teaching religious carries on the apostolate in and through teaching. Profane matters are not merely occa-sions for the apostolate of a teaching religious; the teach-ing of such is itself an apostolate. The Church has only an apostolic finality; and this is the ultimate purpose of a Christian school. The second consequence is that the religious has no personality other than the personality of the Church. Greatness implies duties; hence she must always act as befits this personality of the Church. Hence comes the ' See canon 497~ § 2. s See Fr. Michel Sauvage, F.Sc.X., "Finalit~ ~postolique de notre Institut d'apr~s les M~ditations pour le temps de la Retraite," in Bulletin des Frdres des Ecoles Ghrdtiennes, October, 19ill, pp. 131--43. 4. 4. 4" The Tea~hbtg Sister VOLUME 2I, 1962 517 4. 4. ÷ l~lio Gamba~i, S.M.M . REVIEW FOR RELIG|O~JS 518 striking difference between secular teaching and religious teaching. The first is done by reason of a personal or par-ticular title in the name of the family or in the name of the state; the second has no other personality save that which is given by the Church. Hence it is that the sector of work is limited for religious, that their way of devoting themselves to teaching is subject to restraints. It is under-standable that superiors are sometimes embarrassed by this; and it may happen that they are heard to say: "Our state as religious, the framework of religious life, seems to be a hindrance in certain cases." This is possible; but is not such a disadvantage on the natural and professional level slight when compared to the immense benefit de-rived from their ecclesial character and when compared to the charge of personifying the Church in the exercise of the~teaching profession? To this title of representing the Church there may be added other ones: the charge entrusted to them by the parents who have the right to choose their own substitutes as the educators of their children; the charge entrusted by civil society. If there are elements of the religious life which consti-tute by their nature a hindrance and an obstacle to the. efficacy of education, then there is place for the appli-cation of the counsels of renovation and adaptation. We can not demand that students fit into our religious life; it is the responsibility of religious to adapt themselves to concrete circumstances in those things which concern their students. If properly understood, this can be done without sacrificing or eliminating the constitutix~e ele-ments of religious life. In any case the central idea here is this: the activity oi~ religious is not a profession; it is a kind of priesthood.; it is a ministry, an ecclesial one, which carries with it all the greatness and the responsibility proper to the educative ministry of the Church. The third consequence is that the religious has the right to teach, a right that is given by the Church. Anyone who attacks this right of religious and who hinders the exercise of this right, attacks the Church and the rights of the Church. Numerous documents show us that the Popes have intervened to defend religious and Catholic schools as pertaining to inalienable rights of the Church. One can not touch Catholic schools or teaching religious without touching the Church. One of the lessons of history is that those who wish to fight the Church begin by fighting teaching religious. This has happened in different countries and I have no doubt that it will happen again. The reason for this is that teaching religious in their teaching really radiate the . action.of the Church. Whoever possesses youth, possesses society; and whoever possesses society, possesses the state. Hence religious, since they have youth in their schools, exercise a definite influence on al! of society. His Excellency Bishop Ancel has reminded us of the need there is for religious who are capabl~ of teaching religion. According to canon 1373, § 2 those who attend secondary and. higher schools are to be instructed in Christian doctrine; the ordinaries are to see to it that this mission is fulfilled by zealous and well-prepared priests. Does this canon exclude teaching religious arid brothers from the teaching of religion? In their schools is it the work of priests to give the courses in religion? Not at all. Speaking personally and as one who teaches law, I would say that this rule does .not apply formally to institutions which are held by men and women religious. The insti-tutes of teaching religious have been established and or-ganized by the Church primarily for the teaching of re-ligion; it is this that they are bound to in the first place; for this their members must be prepared in a special way. This does not mean that they can teach independently of the bishop, for it is he who gives or confirms their man-date. The bishop, having accepted teaching religious, should not look elsewhere for teachers of religion if these religious meet the demands of religious teaching. The in-stitutes are thereby obliged to fulfil the necessary condi-tions, and the bishop has the right and duty to control how religion is taught in the schools held by religious in his diocese.~ A fourth and very important consequence is the re-sponsibility that flows from all this for religious. If they share in the mission of the Church, they also bear all her responsibility. It may sometimes happen that we forget that we are not sealed-off compartments in the Church, cells separated from all the rest. On the contrary, we exist as a function of the entire Church; if the personality of the Church is communicated to us, this involves not only all her rights but all her duties as well. Superiors and the sisters themselves can truly say that they carry on their shoulders the weight of the entire Church. This is not merely a manner of speaking; it is a reality which results from their universal mandate. The religious has a re-sponsibility that surpasses the limits of the parish and of the diocese to extend to the extremities of the earth; she has assumed the educative responsibilities.of the Church. Superiors as well as subjects must come to a realization of this responsibility which includes mission, duties, and rights. From this flows a fifth consequence: the serious re-eSee canon 13~6, 1381, §§ 2-3. + + + The Tearhing Sister VOLUME 21, 1962 519 Elio Gambari, $.M .M . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 520 sponsibility that superiors have to provide for the forma-tion of true educators. It is not a question of preparing only young religious who are goo~t and delicate in con-science but who have only a rudimentary training for the task which awaits them. It is rather a question of forming servants of the Chur'ch who ought to respond to the needs and necessities of the entire Church. Greatness involves duties; and the. prestige of the Church herself is at stake. Pope Pius XII has enjoined us to see that the religious school is not inferior to other schools but rather superior to them even from the technical and professional view-point. And is it not the teacher above all that makes the superiority of a school? To give to a teacher the interior and exterior prestige .due to professional worth is a mis-sion interior to culture itself. We all rightly lament the decline in religious vocations; but it may be asked whether besides a numerical lack there is not also an insufficiency of quality. One of the best ways of increasing vocations is first of all to utilize to the utmost and to make the most of those whom the Lord has already sent. If superiors know how to communicate this ideal, to the young subjects who present themselves to their communities and if they succeed in organizing for them a program of formation which corresponds to the needs of the mission to be performed, the results will recompense the efforts expended. They will have placed at the disposition of the Church riches and forces of the utmost importance. We are all aware what the Church demands of religious in the matter of formation and how she is always developing and improving the course pre-paratory to the sacred ministries. The complaint is made that there are no vocations; but if we make an examina-tion of conscience, it can be asked whether there are not enough vocations because teaching is not sufficiently ecclesial. In one of his allocutions Pius XII stated: "One mark of the teaching that truly corresponds to the direc-tives of the Church is that it arouses vocations. When you have religious and priestly vocations in your schools, then you are sure that your teaching is truly ecclesial." But there is another aspect I would like to emphasize. It is true that there is a lack of vocations; but do we channel and utilize the vocations we possess? I am not speaking of physical powers, but of moral forces, intel-lectual and moral values and capacities. There will always be a disproportion with the needs of the school today and with the necessities that must be met. But what is im-portant is that superiors act in such a way that the reli-gious who have entered the institute at the call of God and of the Church should find themselves in the possi-bility of self-development and of giving to the institute, to. the Church, and to souls everything of which they are capable. For this it is necessary to educate them and to develop in them everything which they are capable of giving. I believe--and this is an entirely personal remark that we have not sufficiently formed our religious in their spiritual, apostolic, and professional aspects. His Excel-lency Bishop Ancel has told us of the duty of the cultural apostolate through one's profession. It is necessary that religious should have in the name of the Church and to give prestige to the Church a prestige from the cultural and professional aspect. How is it possible to conceive that persons who work and who study in order to improve their professional standing or for a higher salary should be superior from the professional viewpoint to persons who teach because of the love of God and of souls? But unfortunately it happens that we do not take sufficient account of cultural prestige. I do not mean that external prestige to which perhaps too much account is taken; I am referring to that interior richness which is so impor-tant and which ennobles your schools and the Church her-self. Conclusion I shall conclude my conference by saying that the ecclesial mission confided to religious is the continuation on earth of the mystery of the Incarnation; hence it is a prolongation throughout the course of the centuries of the role of the Blessed Virgin with regard to the Savior and to the Church. There is no Christian life that should not be marial. In particular does not the religious edu-cator find in the Virgin Mother an ideal example of her own vocation? She is more than an example, for she is the first educator and teacher, the one who has given us substantial Truth, the incarnate Word of God, the Truth of God. In the constitution Sedes Sapientiae the Pope held up before the eyes of those who form others as well as before the eyes of those who are to be formed the radiant image of the holy Virgin, the Seat of Wisdom, the Throne of the incarnate Word; she it is who, although not pertaining to the hierarchy, received from God the mission to give us the Word, the consubstantial Utterance; and it is still she who wishes to continue this mission through the work of each teaching institute and in each teaching religious. ÷ ÷ + The Teaching Sister VOLUME 21, 19~,2 521 THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Psychological Needs in The Religious Context Thomas Dubay, S.M., is a faculty member of Notre Dame Seminary, 2901 South Carroll-ton Avenue, New Orleans 18, Louisi-ana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The strictest of religious orders have always agreed that their members must eat, drink, and ~'elax. Congregations may vary in the amount and quality of the food, beverage, and recreation they permit, but they are of one mind in principle: men and women have bodily needs that must be met; and if they are not met, nature will have its venge-ance. But we are not so well assured that religious commu-nities are fu!ly aware that their members have psychologi-cal needs every bit as real as their corporeal ones. We are not confident that even given the high contemporary in-cidence of mental disordel~s and the widespread popular literature dealing with man's psychological ailments, our present day religious men and women really grasp the concept of mental needs. And if this lack of confidence is realistically based, we are justified in suggesting that the psychological needs of priests, brothers, and sisters are often not met or at least are not met in as happy a way as we might hope. The Problem The mere experience of living some years in a religious community and especially the experience of working with the spiritual problems of consecrated souls make clear the fact that man does not live by bread alone. Only too fre-quently does one who works with religious meet persons who are beset with serious problems with apparently in-tangible roots, problems that are not due to physical ill-ness nor to a dislike for the religious life as such nor to ill will nor to difficulty with the vows. Unless he cuts off a full discussion by the prompt and pat solution, he will often find that the problem is due to poor adjustment in the community or to a lack of security or to inferiority feel-ings or to a whole collection of assorted fears or to an un-satisfied hunger for affection. And this is to say that the problem is psychogenic. A man or woman does not have to be neurotic or psychotic in order to suffer from psychologi-cal malnutrition. Just as the human person can be under-nourished in the bodily sense without being therefore seriously ill, so can he be underfed in the mental and emo-tional sense without being seriously deranged. But the similarity can be pushed a step .further. Just as prolonged and marked malnutrition.can issue in grave illness on the physical level, so can it on the mental. However, we are not directly concerned in this study with serious mental illness. We are not even concerned with illness as such. We are concerned with the simple fact that religious priests, brothers, and sisters have psychological needs in common with the rest of men, needs that must be satis-factorily met within the context of their vocations if they are to function normally, happily, and holily. Whence Psychological Needs? Only an imperfect being experiences need. This is so because need bespeaks a lack of something due: comple-mentation, aid, perfection. God does not need because He is the fullness of perfection. Man needs because he is in-herently imperfect, limited by his potencies. Man needs on three levels because he is subject to three types of imper-fection or limitation: physical, psychological, supernatu-ral. His eating, drinking, working, recreating are remedial of his physical needs. His prayers, reception of the sacra-ments, practice of the virtues are aimed at satisfying his supernatural deficiencies. He can grow normally on nei-ther of these two levels unless these needs and deficiencies are met. The same must be said of his psychological perfectibil-ity. Man is mentally and emotionally imperfect. He needs to grow and to be fed in his intellect and will and emo-tions. He has psychological needs that donning a religious habit does not delete. He may act as though these needs do not exist. He may ignore them, hoping that they will go away. But they will not. More than that, if they are neglected, they will catch up with him and make him pay a price for his foolishness. For the same reason that bodily needs arise from incom-pleteness and imperfection in the organism, so do psycho-logical needs arise from an incompleteness and imperfec-tion in one's mental-emotional life. Man needs precisely because he is an unfinished being seeking ends as yet un-attained. Meeting Psychological Needs in Religious Lile In God's providential plan for man, every state in life is meant to lead its followers to a rich personality develop-ment together with (and we might add, because of) their Psychological Needs VOLUME 21, 1962 523 $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS achievement of the beatific vision of the divine Trinity. Marriage aims not only at the preservation, and increase of the human family but also at the individual good o1! husband and wife, and that on all levels, physical, psycho. logical, supernatural. Such is true also of the religiou,,; state, for a vowed consecration to God is orientated toward. both individual and communal goods. From the point of view of the individual good the re-ligious life is directed toward the fulfillment of the. per. son's whole being, the actualization of as many of his po-. tentialities as possible. If it is true that the religious is imperfect on physical, psychological, and supernatural. levels, it follows that the institute must provide for the per-fecting process on all three levels, not only on the first and the third. If it does not so provide, it is harming both the individual and the group. A prolonged unsatisfied psycho-logical need leaves the human person truncated, ill at ease, unhappy, and even at times frustrated and neurotic. More-over, an ill personality is a marked hindrance to the achievement of sanctity. One may dispute whether a neu-rotic can be a saint, but he may not dispute the fact that neurotic tendencies are hurdles in the path to sanctity. They are imperfections, and imperfections can aid one in acquiring holiness only per accidens, incidentally. From the point of view of the common good, the insti-tute hui-ts itself likewise for the obvious reasons that a~ psychologically ill-adjusted member can cripple commu-nity effectiveness, peace, and joy. This member is himself less productive in that part of the community's apostolate committed to him, and he often enough is an impediment to the productiveness of his companions. For the same reasons, then, that a religious congrega-tion is interested in promoting the physical welfare of its members through ,satisfying their bodily requirements, so should it be concerned about furthering their mental wel-fare through meeting their psychological needs. What are these .needs? And how can they be met in the religious context? Realization of. Personal Worth The first of man's general psychological needs with which we propose to deal sends its tap root deep into meta-physical truth. This need sends up a cry from the depths of man's being, a cry that demands of a man that he eval-uate himself rightly, realistically, according to what he is. The metaphysical truth pertinent here is axiomatic: every being is good. Insofar as a thing is, it is valuable; it is a good, good for itself and good for others as well. Surely, to be is immeasurably better for a given reality than not to be. To be a reflection of the divine goodness is likewise a glory for Another. Since reality is good, worthwhile, valuable, it can come as no surprise that deeply hidden in man's psyche is a yearning that he recognize and acknowledge to himself his own value, his own worth. Every man needs to know that he has an intrinsic value, that he isimportant, worth-while. Religious are no exception. Their psychology, like that of the rest of men, reflects the metaphysical law that being is good. Drastic consequences can follow in a man who is really .persuaded that he is worthless.,Selbconfidence is paralyzed and the energetic pursuance of a task becomes almost im-possible: Inferiority feelings may fill the conscious mo-ments of. each day and make healthy prayer and construc-tive thinking mere fond wishes. The man or woman who is devoid of a realization of personal worth is not thereby humble. He or she is ill, psychologically ill. A religious formation in postulancy, novitiate, or ju-niorate that "humiliates" the young candidates into think-ing that they are next to worthless has done both them and the institute a disservice. It is perfectly true that without God we are nothing, but it is just as true that we are not without God. With Him and from Him and through Him we are a great deal. A.realistic self-esteem is not incompatible with the deep-est humility. 0nly exaggerated selbesteem issuch. Christ Himself was well aware of His perfection and infinite worth, and yet He practised the most sublime humility. Priests, brothers, and sisters need to esteem themselves if they are going to be mentally healthy. And there are any number of just reasons for thi~ judgment of self-worth, all of them consonant with humility. We ought to rate ourselves highly because of our God-given rational nature, a nature that marvelously elevates us above the rest of visible creation. If God could judge on the day of'creation that the inanimate earth was "ex-tremely good," what must He think of man whom He placed at the peak of visible reality to rule it? The religious ought to rate himself even more highly because of his state of grace and his unspeakable destiny, the face-to-face vi-sion and enjoyment of the Trinity. He must be precious in the sight of this Trinity, for God became man for his sake and went to the death on a cross for him. What better proof can we have of our personal worth than the fact that God loves us? "For God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son, that those who believe in him may not perish, but may have life everlasting" (Jn 3:16). If God loves us, we must be lovable. Since God's love is communicative of the goodness that He loves, we must grant that He has a special love for re-ligious on whom He bestows the special goodness of a con-secrated vocation. ÷ ÷ ÷ Psychological Needs VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~2~ A priest, brother, sister are good indeed. And honesty demands that they recognize their goodness. So does their psychological w~lfare. How can the religious life foster both a healthy selb esteem and a salutary humility? The norm must be reality, nothing artificial, nothing exaggerated, nothing.pseudo. Formation personnel must teach humility according to sound principles, such as those of St. Thomas presented in his Summa of Theology. They must not give postulants, novices, and juniors the impression that they are of small worth. They should not so harp on a candidate's faults that he imperceptibly imbibes the unhealthy conviction that he is thoroughly inferior and will be of little use in the apostolate. Like the rest of the human race a religious man or woman simply cannot function smoothly and ade-quately unless he is aware of his basic worth. Novice mas-ters and mistresses must teach this as well as the bases for genuine humility, God's excellence and our utter depend-ence on Him. Those engaged in formation work should heed theology's careful formulation of its concept of hu-mility. It is a virtue which moderates (not destroys) one's desire for his own excellence and prompts him to evaluate himself as he is. Humility, of course, prompts a man to love to be hidden in God and unknown among men, but this is not to say that it encourages inactivity or damages magnanimity. By it "each one regards the others as his superiors" (Phil 2:3), but this does not imply that a man deny his own good. Religious, superiors and subjects alike, foster a salutary sense of self-worth in their companions by a deep and sin-cere reverence, respect, and politeness. We may remark in this connection that those in authority precisely because they are in authority experience a special openness to fail-ure on this point. Especially can the superiors of large communities begin without realizing it to act toward the rank and file as though they were indistinguishable, in-habitants of the religious habit, almost mere numbers in a personnel register. When a higher superior, for example, treats a sister indifferently, coldly, or with an artificial smile or greeting, who can be surprised if the sister sees this coldness as a reflection on her personal value? If this sort of treatment is repeated by enough people, we can at least fear that this religious' need for a wholesome self-esteem is being shoddily met. What we say of superiors in this context applies also to companion religious.4 ll should show reverence to all: old toward young as well as young toward old, well-educated toward the less well-educated as well as vice versa. The fundamental reverence of religious for one another is founded on more substantial grounds than age and ad-vanced degrees. One may argue that people striving after perfection ought not to need small marks of politeness and esteem in order to maintain and further their psychologieal health. Possibly so. But the hard fact remains that these people are human and many of them do need this food for their personality growth. The common life, unless well lived, can have a damag-ing effect on a man or woman's need to be considered an individual. While this life is good and conducive to hu-mility, yet that goodness does not .imply that commonness and individuality must always be opposed. We feel that a religious' need for self-esteem is properly answered by small marks of indir~idual consideration: praise for a work well done, .greeting on his feast day, non-prying inquiry about the family back home, the noticing and considering of personal preferences. These marks of individual con-sideration are not merely psychologically beneficial for the recipient; they are supernaturally advantageous for the one bestowing. What are a word of praise, a feast day greeting, an interested inquiry, the recognition of a prefer-ence but the basic marks of the fraternal love religious are to have for one another: "As long as you did it for one of these, the least of my brethren, you did it for me" (Mt 95:40). We must be careful that we do not restrict our fraternal love to pious affections at prayer. These latter must be prolonged into the hard arena of daily contact. A superior especially can contribute to a subject's sense of personal worth in a number of inconspicuous ways. A word of commendation for work well done means even more for a religious when it issues from his superior than when it comes from an. equal. Then, too, the man or woman in charge should not be above asking for ideas and opinions and advice from subordinates. Even aside from the obvious benefit that will accrue to him, he will aid his fellow religious in realizing that their views are valued and hence that they themselves have value. Further, a superior should be generous in providing an unrushed hearing to any who wish to approach him with their problems. This is especially true of religious women. One can easily ap-preciate the psychological harm done when a sister finds that her superior seldom has time to see her or, when she is available, b~ushes the sister off in summary fashion and with a pat a.nswer that solves nothing. The sister may draw the conclusion, and unfortunately there is basis for it, that administration and reports are more importantin the su-perior's eyes than the sister is. A superior should likewise make an effort to initiate and provide conveniences for individuals: the use of a car, a bit of extra rest, the pur-chase of a useful tool of employment, an unusual but needed permission. Superiors must be concerned not only with the common welfare of the group but also with the 4, 4. 4- Psychological VOLUME 21, 1962 4. Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 52g particular needs o[ individuals. In large communities this kindly foresight requires a generous heart together with a gift for detail, but no one can deny that it contributes not a little to a family' spirit and a healthy sense of personal Worth. Finally, the superior should encourage his subjects to use their initiative and develop their talents. Even when he must refuse a permission in an "initiative matter," he should do so with open reluctance and should leave the re-ligious with the impression that more new ideas will be welcome in the future. Then there is the question of corrections. Badly exe-cuted they can do notable psychological damage, espe-cially with the young and with timorous souls beset with the fringes of inferiority feelings. As a class religious are better able to receive corrections with a reasonable out-ward equanimity, but one would be naive to think that most of them are exempt from a more or less deep inner pain. Nor are most exempt from sustaining psychological harm especially in their early years in the religious life from too frequent or clumsily executed corrections. We are not opposed to corrections. Healthy realism de-- mands that a man recognize the fact that he is going to err and to fail and that at times he will need correction if not for bad will at least for faulty judgment. But we are op-posed to damaging corrections, corrections that leave the subject with the limp feeling that he must be of small value to the community, rather tolerated than appreci-ated. To avoid this sort of result, a superior should correct with moderation as regards both frequency and manner. He should be on the lookout for mitigating circumstances and let the subject know that he recognizes their presence. He should rarely hop on first offences and be extremely circumspect about correcting in public or in the presence of others. In addition a sister superior especially (men at times need the same caution) must be fair and operate according to her intellect rather than her feelings. Unless she already possesses a sympathetic understanding of human weak-ness, she should attend carefully to the acquisition of a balance that steers a middle course between a laxity that overlooks everything and a rigorism that never winks at a defect. Sense of Accomplishment Closely allied to the sense of personal worth is the sense. of achievement or accgmplishment. The latter tends to in-sure the continuation of the former. If a man never achieves anything, he will soon doubt that he is worth anything. There is a deep metaphysical truth hidden in this psy-chological need just as there was in our previous one: op- eration follows on essence. As a being is, so does it act. A duck cannot act like a squirrel, and a borderline pupil cannot perform like a geni.us. And so if a man does not produce, he is likely to conclude (perhaps with a violation of logic) that he .cannot produce; and if he cannot pro-duce, he must not be much. Though the logic may be par-tially faulty, the damaging effect of repeated failure on one's sense of personal worth is a given fact of life. A saint may come through a series of this-world failures with his psychological equilibrium undisturbed, but that is due to the fact that he knows he is succeeding in the far more im-portant business of attaining God. Even a saint is not ex-empt from the laws of psychological needs and their ful-fillment. The priest's, brother's, or sister's need for some measure of success should be met predominantly in the realization that he is succeeding as long as he is pleasing God. This religious may be a poor preacher or a mediocre teacher; but as long as sincere effort springing from supernatural motivation is a part of the picture, he should experience a sense of accomplishment. He is succeeding. He is worth something. However, we must face the fact that even religious who are supernaturally motivated will be aided in maintain-ing a sense of personal value by at least moderate success in their fields. The responsibility of a religious community in aiding its members to achieve this success devolves chiefly on superiors, major and local. They can discharge this duty in several ways, 1. Major superiors should see to it insofar as such is possible that religious are adequately prepared for the tasks to which they are assigned. This is especially true of the young woman who by nature is usually more appre-hensive about facing a new task than is a man. One does not need a lively imagination to gragp the impact felt in the heart of a young sister entering her first classroom knowing rather little about her subject matter and per-haps less about methods of teadaing and the keeping of discipline. She is going to have a hard time achieving a sense of competency, if she ever does achieve it at all. 2. On differing levels of responsibility both major and minor superiors must take care that they do not assign work too difficult for given subjects. One is asking for trouble if he assigns to the teaching of philosophy a man who is slow in abstract thinking or nursing to a woman who is short on practicality. 3. Again, both major and minor superiors must moder-ate the work load in their communities. A priest, brother, or sister who has too much to do is either going to suffer damage on the physical level by overwork or on the psy-chological level by the conflict resulting from his failure 4- 4- 4- Psychologiral Needs VOLUME 21, 1962 529 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to do it well. Time pressure and overwork are perhaps the single most urgent problem American religious, as a group face today. It has ramifications in more areas of the re-ligious life than is within the scope of this article to detail. Superiors should take it in hand--and resolutely. 4. Any modern business knows that if it is to survive, compete, and succeed, it must be housed in an adequate plant and be equipped with efficient tools of operation. If a religious is to be given a reasonable opportunity to com-pete with his secular counterparts in school or hospital and attain a sense of success in his work, he, too, needs adequate tools. Principals in our schools and administra-tors in our hospitals should see to it that their religious collaborators are given the equipment, books, and sundry aids that will enable them to achieve satisfactorily. 5. We are all aware that it is bad policy for a mother ceaselessly to correct her children from dawn to dusk. Ex-cessively severe discipline makes them nervous and can give rise to resentment feelings and/or an inferiority com-plex. But we may forget that a mature adult is not im-mune from these deleterious effects of an over correcting superior. While a religious superior has an obligation by reason of his office to secure the observance of the commu-nity's constitutions, he need not feel that nothing at all may be overlooked. Nor ought he to emphasize the failures of his subjects. If circumstances suggest that he discuss a notable failure with the religious responsible for it, he should discuss it. Yet at the same time he should praise what can be praised in the situation and he should assidu-ously avoid discouraging a timid person or one already prone to believe himself next to useless. Sister superiors especially need circumspection in this area, since women are probably more inclined than men to discouragement in the face of a difficult task. They need encouragement more than blame when they err. 6. Superiors and subjects alike can promote the sense of achievement in one another by the sincere commenda-tion of success. Most religious, we should hope, are ma-ture enough not to nourish a vanity over the compliments their cbmpanions pay them. If a particular relig!ous be-lies Our hope, we can for the most part skip complimenting him he has already too much of a sense of achievement. Others, however, are aided by a kind word of recognition, and we further their welfare by offering it to them. Such, then, are the first two general psychological needs that.must be met in the religious context: a realization of personal worth and a sense of accomplishment. We shall .pursue in a concluding article a discussion of further gen-eral needs of religious men and women, and we shall add several considerations concerning those of sisters in par-ticular. ROBERT J. ROTH, S.J. Contemplation in Action ¯A Clarification More and.more frequently in recent years the phrases "contemplation in action" and "finding God'in all things" are being used as titles of articles, books, and chapters in books. To a large extent, the treatment of these themes has been confined to technical works of asceticism written for religious, but these topics are beginning to find their way into articles and add(esses dealing with the lay apostolate and are being received with enthusiasm by the layman. This interest on the part 0f the layman has been in-spired in great measure by the growing appreciation of the important role that the laity must play in the apostolic mission of the Church. Laymen are everywhere urged to be mindful of the implications of baptism and confirma-tion whence flow their privilege and obligation to assist the hierarchy in the christianization of the world. Such activity is to be exercised by men and women in a wide variety of situations and in all walks of life. Further, one can easily see that a person engaged in.such activity needs a type of spiritual life which is suited for the work that is to be undertaken. An apostle, and here we mean primari!y the lay apostle, must be a very active per-son if he is to fulfill his commitments to his family and his job and unify these commitments in the fullness of the one Christian, apostolic life. He requires a spiritual life which is geared for action, which permits him to live a deep interior life in the midst of absorbing activity. No better theme could be chosen, it is said, than that expressed by the phrases "contemplation in action" and "finding God in all things." Moreover, an. appeal is sometimes made to authority in the person of St. Ignatius Loyola who exemplified in his life the ideals contained in these phrases and who incorpo-rated them into a type of spirituality which is known as "Ignatian." One can cite texts from his writings where he ÷ ÷ ÷ Robert J. Roth, s.J., is professor of phi-losophy at Fordham University, Ford-ham Road, New York 58, New York. VOLUME 21, 1962 Robert Roth, S.]. REVIEW FO~ RELIGIOUS enjoins the shortening of .the time given to formal prayer so 'that the apostle c~n be off and away on some apostolic venture. The ideal Ignatian man is portrayed as one streamlined for action, unhindered by long periods of prayer and liturgical service. Such a man must be able to do without long spiritual exercises and in this he is not taking anything away from God. Rather he must be a "contemplative in action," he must learn to "find God in all things." Naturally this ideal will appeal to the active man who has already experienced the di~culty of joining a dee[, spiritual life with an intensely active one. It is especially appealing, perhaps, to the American, who, not without reason, is called the activist, the practical man, the man of action. That such interest in working out an appropriate spirit-ual life has been awakened in recent years is a clear sign that many people, both cleric and lay, are becoming alive to the sense of what it means to be a" Christian, to be a member of the Mystical Body. It would be unfortunate, however, if one were to stop short at catch phrases and to use them in entirely different ways while remaining under the illusion that he is using them in their original sense. Whatever else was meant by the phrases "contemplation: in action" and "finding God in all things," they never stood for a heedless rush into external activity, a substitu-tion of external work for a deep interior life or of action for prayer. This is not to say, at this point at least, that such substitutions are harmful. That they are harmful will, I hope, become clear as we proceed. But what we wish to emphasize first is that such substitutions radically alter the meaning which these phrases originally had. Therefore, as long as interest has been aroused regard-ing the type of spirituality best ~uited for the lay apostle in modern times, it would be profitable to examine closely our two phrases in their historical context so that we may understand their original meaning.1 At the end of the dis-cussion, some may judge that such a meaning has little validity/today; but at least we shall, have satisfied ourselves that we have examined the matter carefully, and, by way of elimination at least, our future procedure will be a bit clearer. Actually, in the judgment of the present writer, 1 Perhaps the best treatment in English of this subject, a work which was followed closely in the preparation of this paper, is Joseph F. Conwell, s.J., Contemplation in Action: A Study in Ignatian Prayer (Spokane: Gonzaga University, 1957). Other excellent works on the same subject are: Jean Danidlou, "The Ignation Vision of the Universe and of Man," Cross Currents, 7 (1957), pp. 357-66; Alexandre Brou, S.J., lgnatian Methods ol Prayer (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1949); Alexandre Brou, S.J., The Ignatian Way to God (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1952); William J. Young, S.J. (ed.), Finding God in All Things: Es-says in lgnatian Spirituality (Chicago: Regnery, 1958). anyone who understands the meaning of these phrases will see implications which are valid for the contemporary layman. In order to understand the meaning given by Ignatius to the two phrases in question, it would be well to examine the prayer proper to the order which he founded since the two phrases are really expressive of that prayer. In turn, the nature of !gnatian prayer can best be understood by examining the end oi- purpose 9f his order. Our proce-dure, then, will be through an examination of the purpose of the Society of Jesus to come to an understanding of Ignatian prayer and thence to an understanding, of the two phrases under discussion. What, then, was the nature of the new order founded by Ignatius Loyola in the middle of the :sixteenth "century? Its purpose, perhaps broader than any yet envisioned, was the salvation and perfection of self and of neighbor, in-cluding the defense and propagation of the. faith and the spiritual and corporal works of mercy--in brief, any work that had in view "the greater glory Of God and the good of souls." What must be emphasized is that the goal envisioned in-cludes salvation and sanctification of others as well as of self. At first glance, this goal may not seem to be particu-larly unique. The mendicant orders of the late Middle Ages had already, dedicated themselves to apostolic ac-tivity. Moreover, the second great commandment has al-ways been love of neighbor; and every spiritual orienta- .tion, whether it be of a religious order or of an individual Christian, goes out to others as well as to self. Even a con-templative religious or a bed-ridden layman can further the spiritual welfare of his neighbor by example, prayer, and sacrifice. This is at the center of the whole doctrine of the Mystical Body and has been given expression in a beautiful way by Pope Plus XlI in his encyclical: Deep mystery this, subject of inexhaustible meditation: that the salvation of many depends on the prayers and voluntary penances which the members of the Mystical Body of Jesus Christ offer for this intention, and On the assistance of pastors of souls and of the faithful, especially of fathers and mothet;s of families, which they must offer to Our divine Savior as though they were His associates3 But what is perhaps unique in the Ignatian goal, giving it a distinctive note, is the importance accorded to the ÷ salvation and sanctification of neighbor. This aspect 'is ÷ not accidental but essential to the Ignatian ideal, and the Ignatian apostle will fail in his vocation if he does not Contemplation deeply concern himself with others.3 In this respect, one in Action ~ The Mystical Body oI Christ (New York: America Press, 1943), p. 21. s There is no attempt here, of course, to minimize the primacy of VOLUME 21, 1962 Robert Roth~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS can look upon the salvation and perfection of self and that of neighbor not as two goals but as two aspects or compo-nents of a single goal. Or to put it in another way, concern for self and concern for neighbor as described above move in a circle (in this case not a "vicious" one!); that is, the more one perfects himself through contact with God, the more he can accomplish for his neighbor. And in.turn the more one labors for others the more he develops virtues within his own soul; for example, charity, zeal, patience, humility, faith, confidence in God, and self-sacrifice. This concept breaks completely with the picture some-times given which compares the perfection within the soul to a reservoir storing up water to be carried off to whatever place may need it without any return to the source. Work for neighbor shou!d not be considered ex-clusively as a drain on one,s supernatural resources; it can also be a means of increasing the perfection within the apostle's soul.4 This orientation will have its effect on one's outlook towards his natural talents, gifts, skills, and abilities. These are given not merely for the furthering of one's own su-pernatural development. They must be brought to their highest potential and used to their fullest capacity in order to advance the we/fare of others. This orientation has an effect too on the direction given to the life which one leads. Whereas members of the older, monastic orders, and to a large extent of the newer mendicant orders, dedicated themselves primarily to formal prayer, long "liturgical services, especially solemn Mass and the chanting of the Divine Office, the members of the order founded by Ignatius sharply curtailed these exercises and gave them-selves wholeheartedly to the active apostolate in any work dictated by time and plaice. We are now in a position to move from the Ignatian goal to Ignatian prayer. First of all, if the former is apos-tolic, so too is the latter. It is designed to help souls. Ft. Joseph Conwell, S.J., states that this affectsthe orientation one's own salvation and sanctification. We need only to recall St. Paul's precaution against becoming a castaway. But the opposite ex-treme should also be avoided where, out of selfishness or excessive caution and fear or even sloth,.one would ignore the salvation and sanctification of others. In this regard, we would raise the question as to whether an individual could s:ive his own soul by deliberately excluding the salvation of neighbor, or whether he could reach the full perfection of the Christian life without being deeply concerned with the spiritual welfare of neighbor by prayer, example, sacrifice, and, when possible, good works. ~ Even this picture should not be exaggerated, for again we must recall St. Paul's warning and also his remedy against exhaustion of spirit which consists in refreshing the soul from day to day (9 Cor 5:16). The main point made here, however, is that work for one's neighbor should not be considered a mere waste as far as one's per-sonal spiritual development is concerned. of prayer rather than its content. Prayer should arouse a great thirst to help souls; otherwise the devotion found in in prayer, even though good in itself, would be danger-ous. 5 When the Ignatian apostle prays, he is no longer praying as an individual. He prays as one intimately in-volved in the apostolic mission of the Church. Conse-quently his prayer is to be a help for the souls of others as well as for his.own soul, and his prayer is to be the in-gpiration of apostolic activity. Secondly, at times the individual will have to curtail the periods devoted to formal prayer in order to engage in the apostolate. This helps us to understand the some-times strong statements of St. Ignatius arid of Father Jer-ome Nadal who officially interpreted find promulgated the Constitutions of the newly-fo~'med order, against cer-tain prominent members of the order. These latter had a tendency to look upon prayer as an end rather than as a means and to place perfection in the passing of long hours inprayer and penance.~ It was necessary to censure protracted recollection and solitude, and by these were meant such as would withdraw one from the task of help-ing his neighbor. There will be times when the apostle must forego.the consolation and quiet of formal prayer in favor of the active apostolate. In doing this he should .not be disturbed but should be assured that he is acting according to his vocation. But one must point out with equal emphasis that the apostle cannot entirely forego recollection and solitude. This balance, I think, is an answer to those who would view the Ignatian ideal as an excuse for feverish activity without the quiet of formal prayer and recollection. As we shall see, the emphasis on shortening formal prayer would seem to be relative; relative, that is, to the amount prac-ticed by other orders while the amount that is left is con-siderable. Let us pursue the matter a bit further. So far we have seen that the Ignatian goal is apostolic, that it comprises the he!p of self and of neighbor, that these two cannot be attained in separation, ~hat consequently Ignatian prayer is apostolic, aimed at helping others as well. We are now able to understand that which was unique in Ignatian prayer, especially in its relation to activity. There is one way of explaining this relationship which, while good and salutary, isnot precisely Ignatian. Accord- ~ Conwell, op. cir., pp. 69-70. 0 In taking their stand; neither St. Ignatius nor Father Nadal had any intention of passing judgment on the superiority of one type of religious order over another. It was a question of clarifying the goal and hence the spirituality proper to the Society of Jesus. This task took some time since.in important ways the orientation of the new order differed from that of others existing at the time. See Brou, The Ignatian Way to God, Chapter 7 and passim. + + + Contemplation in Action VOLUME 211 1962 535 4. 4. 4. ing to this view, one would look upon prayer and activity as two distinct steps. Thus one would engage in formal prayer in order to receive grace, motivation, and inspira-tion for apostolic activity. He then turns from prayer to activity and in the course of that activity prayer as such ceases. In fact, activity may be looked upon as an obstacle to prayer, something to be taken up and completed after which one returns to prayer. Ignatius wanted more than this. He wanted to bridge the gap, to eliminate the line, as it were, between prayer and activity. There are not two stages but only one; that is, continued prayer and contemplation even in the midst of action. In this sense, action literally becomes prayer. Ft. Conwell expresses it as follows: It is not enough, therefore, that prayer incline to the apos-tolate; it should carry over to the work itself. There can be no question of a life of prayer and a life of action with a huge gulf in between. Prayer should not only incline to the apostolate but bridge the gap between them, even more, close the .gap, fill the gap, so that no gap exists between prayer and actxon . Not only does prayer lead to action, not only does it accompany a man as he crosses the threshold of the apostolate, but it pene-trates the entire action. Not only is there a connection between prayer and action, but a vital union of the two, the same spirit vivifying both. Action has become a prolongation of prayer, or to put it another way, prayer is prolonged by action itself? We can see, then, that the purpose of both prayer and apostolic activity are the same; namely, union with God. This means first of all union of intellect where under the divine light we share His vision of the universe. In some dim but definite way we have in the very course of our activity an increasing awareness of the divine mission of salvation and sanctification carried on by the Mystical Body in the people with whom we come in contact and in the circumstances and events in which we find our-selves. All things great and small--the whole created uni-verse in its natural and supernatural dimensions, the events of i~dividual~ and of nations, the growth of the Church, ordinary, everyday events--all become meaning-ful as we see in them the unfolding of the divine plan. Union with God in prayer and activity means also a conscious union of the will with God, especially in charity. It is charity which brings the individual to prayer and action and it is charity which consciously animates his actions, giving them meaning, direction, and unction. In being united more fully to God by charity, the soul also comes to love more fully the divine plan of salvation and all things in Him; love moves out also to one's neighbor, and this in turn inspires him to spend himself the more in works of zeal for the salvation and sanctification of the world. ~ Conwell, op. cit., pp. 72-73. All this applies not only to works which are in them-selves apostolic, for example, the preaching of the word of God or the dispensing of the sacraments, nor does it apply only to works upon which one has just meditated and to which he goes under the proximate impetus of that prayer. It applies also to works upon whi~:h he'has not specifically meditated and to works, events, and circum-stances which are not directly apostolic; for example, the teaching of mundane subjects and even the directing Of games for active youngsters. Hence the apostle contem-plates and finds God in the action, any action, which he is performing and performs the action precisely because in it he does find God. Viewed from this aspect, activity need no longer be looked upon as an obstacle to prayer. "The revolution accomplished by St. Ignatius showed that that which ap-peared to be an obstacle could become a means.''s Ac-tivity now joins hands with prayer in enabling the soul to attain union with God, to "find God in all things," in action as well as in prayer. It is from this viewpoint, too, that St. Ignatius himself along with the apostle whom he attempts to fashion is called a "contemplative likewise in action," and the prayer that he practices is termed "con-templation in action." Moreover prayer of this kind does not withdraw a per-son from action nor does it distract the active person from being absorbed in the matter at hand. It enables him to go deeper into i.t, to immerse himself in it precisely be-cause in doing so his intellect understands deeper dimen-sions of the divine plan and his will is consumed with greater love for God and for all His creatures. What has been said should be enough to help us catch a brief glimpse of the profound meaning behind the Ig-natian phrases, "contemplation in action" and "finding God in all things." They express the spiritual orientation achieved by Ignatius himself during his own lifetime of continued growth in holiness and union with God. They express also the ideal which he proposed for the members of his own order. We must, of course, recognize that it is an ideal which in its fullness will be achieved but rarely by his followers; but it is nonetheless one which can be striven for and attained in increasing perfection according to God's grace and one's cooperation with grace. We may now ask about the training which Ignatius prescribed for the members of his order so as to bring them to such a high ideal. First of all, it cannot be the result merely of daily morning prayer, as though the thoughts and affections that unite one to God in the morning medi-tation carry through the day so that we find God in every- Jean Dani~lou, op. cit., p. 364. 4. 4. 4. Contemplation in dction VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Robert Roth, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU~ 538 thing. "This is an oversimplification. For there is besides a deeper continuity with a richer and broader and deeper background of prayer than the morning meditation."" There are presupposed the various trials of a two year novitiate with a retreat of thirty days in which the indi-vidual experiences the full Spiritual Exercises or Ignatian retreat. It is the Spiritual Exercises which lay a foundation for the development of a life in God. They develop a deep union of the soul with God by bringing about the illumi-nation of intellect and impulsion of will so important for the attainment of the ideal of Ignatian prayer. In addi-tion, it is presupposed that the individual will continue a program of spiritual practices which include daily Mass, mental prayer, and two examinations of conscience, and throughout the year an annual retreat of eight days and the other ascetical practices necessary for growth in holi-ness. From all this it is clear how superficial is the inter-pretation which sees in the notion of contemplation in action an invitation to set aside any concept of a deep spiritual life so as to rush off into activity. In the course of our discussion, we have insisted on the original meaning of th~ two phrases in question and on the type of spiritual program needed to reach the ideal contained in these phrases. It would be inaccurate, not to say disastrous, to interpret this as an attempt to belittle or hinder the progress made in recent years in helping the Christian to find God more easily in his daily life and to make his prayer life more consciously the inspiration of his apostolic activity. Beyond this there is more than mere pedantry at stake. At its worst, a lack of precision in this regard can lead to the .tendency to do away with a deep spiritual life in favor of activity. "At last we have a 'spir-ituality of action' which enables us to maintain a program of feverish activity without too much worry about a life of prayerI" That such an attitude is naive in the extreme and for-tunately is encountered only occasionally may well be true. Yet one has the feeling that even more careful treat-ments of the question miss the heart of the problem. For if the original meaning.is maintained, a high ideal is pro-posed without a full appreciation of what is required to reach the goal. This can lead to discouragement on the part of those who strive for it and fail because they are ill-prepared. And if the original meaning is diluted, we lose contact with the initial insights of Ignatius'as well as the high ideal proposed by him. Consequently there is also lost the possibility that some lay people today may aspire to this ideal and find in it a means of reaching sanctity in their lay lives. ' Conwell, op. cit., p. 85. We must be aware, of course, that if the layman is to strive for sanctity it cannot be a question of living the life of a religious in the world. And here we have in mind the layman who marries, raises a family, holds down a job, and so forth. This brings up the problem, one which we shall not even attempt to ~tnsw~r here, Of just how such-a person can attain sanctity through an intensely apostolic life. At present we merely suggest that the answer would seem tolie in the direction of discovering what lay spirit-uality really is rather than in watering down the spirit-uality of religious for the layman. This would apply to the lgnatian ideal as well as to any other. We suggest further that there are many aspects of the Ignatian ideal which will provide valuable insights for working out a solution to the problem. This suggestion be-comes especially meaningful when we recall the back-ground of the Spiritual Exercises in which are found the principles of "contemplation in action" and "finding God in all things." The Spiritual Exercises were primarily in-tended neither for Jesuits nor for prospective candidates to the Soicety of Jesus. Anyone can make them. And though Ignatius gave prudent suggestions as to how much of.the Exercises should be given, depending on the health, intelligence, spiritual progress, and occupation of the ex-ercitant, it is clear that he envisioned the possibility of giving to the layman, for the perfection of his life in the lay state, the full Exercises, containing as they do all that we have said about the phrase~ under discussion.1° In any case, our discussion of Ignatian prayer as applied to members of a p9rticular religious order should point up the importance of careful training for the attainment of the ideal proposed. St. Ignatius fully realized that he was aiming high, and he did not leave anything to chance. Hence, whatever form the phrases "contemplation in ac-tion" and "finding God in all things" may take for the layman, if a high ideal is to be maintained there is de-manded a carefully developed spiritual program. That some program is necessary is clear to anyone who takes seriously the statements of recent sovereign pontiffs regarding the deep spiritt~al life needed by those who en-gage in the lay apostolate and Catholic Action. This is true even if we limit ourselves to an ideal not quite as de-manding as the one proposed. So much more true is it for the one under discussion. St. Ignatius, in drawing up the plans for his order, was facing a concrete situation with a concrete spirituality. One could ask whether one man can do the same today for the layman in terms of his concrete situation. It would The Spiritual Exercises of St, Ignatius, trans. Louis J. Puhl, S.J. (Westminster: Newman, 1957), "Introductory Observations," pp. 7-9. 4- 4- 4. Contemplation in Action VOLUME 21, 1962 539 take a very gifted and saintly man. :Perhaps we lesser mor-tals will have to recognize our limitations and Open our minds to the possibility that the task can be done by a team of men, both cleric and lay, pooling their resources to work out-under God's inspiration a spiritual life which will enable the layman truly to be a "contemplative in action," to "find God in all things." + + + Robert Roth, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 540 THOMAS RADLOFF, S.J. Interpersonal Relationships Christlikeness is the goal of Christian asceticism. The purpose of novitiate and seminary training is essentially a matter of taking the given material of youth--as it is-- and orientating it to a personal commitment to Christ. The basic structure of this asceticism is an interpersonal relationship geared to the Pauline "I live now, not I, but Christ Jesus." Within the structure ~of this relationship, grace building on nature is the dynamic force achieving growth in the deiform life of Christlikeness.1 Neither gra~e nor nature exist in a vacuum; rather, God gives individualized graces that are tailored to the needs of individualized human nature. Youths come to novi-tiates and seminaries already conditioned by environment. The uniqueness of this youth and the uniqueness of his vocational graces must be taken into account if he is to be effectively saturated with the highest spirituality summed up in the epitome of Christlikeness: to love God and to love others.~ " The following pages offer some few, limited reflections on the two great commandments and. the relation of these two commandments to the already conditioned human nature they are meant to permeate. 1 The concept of the life of grace as an interpersonal relationship is not new, but it is a notion that is rece