Suchergebnisse

4$ IA iramSirimiSiiimiminiimi., _ _j&. ,' It > :i!3 ft :«- THE -:- Gettysburg mERCURY. DEGEmBEH, 1897. CONTENTS: The Schmucker Statue, Dr. P. Anstadt 35 The recent Tour of Duty at Hazleton, Capt. F. M. Olt,. 38 Reverie, ] 4° Emperor Conrad and the Weinsbergers, Rev. George Conrad Henry, 47 Our Unknown Dead, 51 The Ghosts' Christmas Gift, 51 Chrysanthemums, 56 A College Song 58 Deed of a Stormy Night, 58 The Influence of Happy Thought, 59 Life's Duty 6T The Game at Philadelphia, 62 Editor's Desk 64 Our Exchange Table 66 Sense and Nonsense 67 ■■■M.M.M.,.M.1,.,Mt,.,.nM,ULLUi m-rriTTTrrixTrirxxiimilituUi "■ 0. MILLER, PRIN' G6TTVSBURQ. HH FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR IIS. J. R. STINE & SON, debts' ••• pur^is^er, CHAMBERSBURG ST. C B. KITZMILLER, —DEALER IN- (lag, dapg, Boof$ and pljoeg, GETTYSBURG, PA. Reafly for Fall an! Winter. Suits to Order—Prices $12.00 to $35.00; Trousers, $2.50 to $9.00 ALL KINDS OF REPAIRING DONE-All the new effects in Check and Over Plaids you will find at THE LEADING TAILOR, CLOTHIER AND GENTS' FURNISHER, I U Mm llBalt0-st- J 1 f I 1 JTI J V I O, Gettysburg, Pa. S. B. ALCOTT~ —AGENT FOR— Browning King & Co., Merchant Tailor, New York. Suits $12.00 up, Overcoats $12.00 up, Pauts$4.oo. Fit and workmanship guaranteed. R. A. WONDERS' Corner Ci£ar Parlors, A FULL LINE OF Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, &c. Scott's Cor. Opp. Eagle Hotel, Gettysburg EPH. H. MINNIGH, Manufacturer, Wholesale »nd Retail 'Dealer in Confectionery and Ice Cream, Oysters in Season. News Depot & Subscription Agency, MAIN ST., GETTYSBURG, PA Sole Mannf'r of Dr. Tyler's Cough Drops SAMUEL FABER7 FINE CIGARS AND SMOKER'S ARTICLE. Chambersburg St., GETTYSBURG, JOHN JK. WWW CONFECTIONERY AND ICE CREAM, OYSTERS STEWED AND PRtED. No: 17, BALTIMORE STREET. COLLEGE OK PWskians § Sur^ons, BALTIMORE, M». The College of Physicians and Surgeons of Baltimore, Maryland, is a well equipped school. Four ses-sions are required for graduation. For full information send for the annual catalogue, or write to THOMAS OPIE, M. D., Dean. Cor. Calvert and Saratoga Sts. The Ijett^bitfg NJei'cu^, Entered at the Post Office at Gettysburg as second-class matter. VOL. V. GETTYSBURG, PA.; DECEMBER, 1897. No. 8. STAFF EDITOR-IN-CHIEF, W. H. Bruce Carney, '99 BUSINESS MANAGER, ALUMNI EDITOR, Rev. F. D. Garland ASSISTANT EDITORS, Steward W. Herman, 99. /y^/ /'^^/y^*0' Robert W. Woods,' THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 49 the hand, threw herself at his feet. "Your Majesty," she cried, "must our innocent children suffer?" The Emperor started ; he looked at the white-headed boy who was greedily chewing a crust. He went back to his own childhood and remembered hearing his mother telling him to be kind and merciful—and then, he thought of Christmas. "Peace upon earth !" The angels had sung, and now he was about to kill children for whom the Saviour had come to earth as for him, the haughty com-mander. His face assumed a gentler look and he turned towards the woman. All women and maidens, with the little children may leave the city ! I will give you your lives ! If any of you have anything which is dear to you, you are hereby per-mitted to carry away as much as you can load on your backs. Everything else belongs to me ! Your men must die!" The little band drew back into the devoted town. They were thankful, in a measure, for the graciousness of their Conqueror. But the noble women of the city were deeply moved at the expected fate of their husbands, brothers and sons, and mourned bitterly on that night of the twentieth of December. The Emperor slept soundly. He flattered himself on his clemency in sparing women and children; on the poor men he never bestowed a thought. * * * * "Your Majesty," called one of his pages, "come here quickly! The Weinsberg women are playing a huge trick on you !" It was dawn of the twenty-first of December. Out of the gate came a wonderful procession. All the noble women of the little city were panting under a heavy bur-den, and the knees of some of them seemed breaking, for each woman was carrying her husband on her back ! As the astonished commander beheld the strange sight he realized how adroitly these women had tricked him ; but his nobles and pages cried, "All must die now, women, children and men, for so deceiving the Emporer !" The women advanced and threw themselves at his feet. "Your Majesty told us that we might take our best 50 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. and dearest possession. What better than our husbands, who protect us and our children ?" As the Emperor was thoughtfully stroking his long beard, as the women and children stood around weeping, as the men, one by one, descended to the ground, the bells on the city church towers began to play, for the Christmas week had begun, when every morning it was the custom of the children to go to the church and sing sweet carols. The old bell-ringer who had no faithful wife to carry him, and to whom death was a welcome guest, was performing his duty as on other joyous occasions. The soldiers scarcely heard the bells for they were vehemently urging the Emperor to punish the women. But Conrad was hearing the bells, and merrily they chim-ed, "Peace upon earth to men of good will." He called aloud, "An Emperor's word shall not be broken!" The wild faces of his soldiers fell. "I promised these women that they might carry their dearest possessions out of the city! They have so done ! Let them go in peace." And so it came to pass ; and as you stand to-day among the ruins of the old city, the Castle Weibertreme (faithfulness of women) tells its own pathetic story. Three days after, on Christmas Eve, as Emperor Con-rad heard his father confessor read the Gospel for the day, his heart was full of joy ; while the Weinsbergers in the neighboring hamlets recalled the merciful kindness of the stern soldier with heartfelt gratitude. Over seven hundred and fifty years have fled since the Emperor laid down his weary head, but he is not for-gotten ; not because he was Emperor—for these are for-gotten— bul because for the sake of the Chist-child he showed kindness to his enemies. Shippensburg, Pa. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 51 OUR UNKNOWN DEAD. The sons of freedom, brave and strong, Defended liberty's fair name, When she by an accursed wrong Was threatened with disgrace and shame. The brows of some are laurel crowned, Their praises rise from every tongue ; But others perished unrenowned, And seldom are their glories sung. No statues stand to mark their graves, In memory of their bravery shown Against the surging battle waves ;— In narrow rows they sleep unknown. Stay, friend, step not upon the mound, Though small may be the marking stone ; For just as hallowed is the ground, Though epitaphs are but "Unknown." Nor pass their resting places by Like careless ships on waveless seas ; No gift is dearer than to die, No champions braver than were these. And when upon the mounds you strew Sweet flowers, like precious seed well sown ; Perchance a mother blesses you, Whose son is sleeping, still unknown. . J- N. K. H., '99. THE GHOSTS' CHRISTMAS GIFT. The sun was shining brightly in the little village of Clarksburg, one beautiful December day. People hurried along the streets, full of the bustle and joy of the Christ-mas- tide, and showed by their merry greetings and glad faces that the Day of days was near. From one well-known face, however, the universal joy was not reflected. Tom Wilson, usually the gayest of the gay, was sad and depressed. He had been out of work for a long time, and had awakened that morning to the fact that in two days' time Christmas would be here, and he was penniless. His youngest son had torn his father-heart by asking over his breakfast of bread and molasses, "Wot yo' gwine ter give me fo' a Chrismus SSI8E BwKW 52 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. gif ?"; while the oldest one added, "Will yo' bring de tukey home ter-day fo' us ter git acquainted wif, like yo' use ter?" Tom had not answered, and the mother, eager to save him further pain, said sharply, "Hyar, yo' chilluns, eat yore breakfus ! Cayn't yo' see yore pa doant want ter be pestered ?'" And the meal was concluded in silence, after which the little black people slunk off to school. " 'Taint no use, Sallie," said Tom, after they had gone, "dey'll hev to go 'thout Chrismus disyear." But Sallie laid her hands on his arm and said rather timidly, "Chrismus '11 be hyar jes' de same, Tom, 'thout gif's, ef we wants ter hev it." Then forcing herself to be hopeful she added brightly, "But I doant b'lieve yore bad luck's gwine ter hoi' ; yo' go down street an' try yore nan' fer a job." Tom rose wearily, " 'Taint no use," he muttered again ; but he went down street. Judge Oliver was just coming out of his office as Tom passed. Tom was a prime favorite with the Judge, and as the latter caught sight of the woe-begone face he called, "Stop a moment, Tom, I want to speak to you." Tom turned listlessly. "Why in the world are you carrying about a. face like a tombstone? Are you in trouble, and can 1 help you out?" questioned the Judge. "No, yore honor, thank yo'," said Tom with studied indifference. The Judge gave him a keen glance. He knew how different Tom was from his fellows, how proud and sensitive; so, thinking to change the subject, he said carelessly, "Have you captured your Christmas turkey yet?" Tom winced so perceptibly that the Judge under-stood ; but he gave no sign as Tom answered with diffi-culty, "No, yore honor, we done sort o' got tired o' tukey an' won't hev none dis year." "Well, go along, Tom, I have a case to look up. By the way, I'm coming to hear you debate to-night,—you're on, aren't you?" THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 53 Tom hesitated. "Y-a-s, your honor,—least ways I war; but I's jes gwiue ter tell Jim ter get somebody else. I ain't up ter snuff fo' dat sort o' thing ter-day." "Oh! come now," exclaimed Judge Oliver, really con-cerned, "I have invited some of my guests to accompany me to that debate especially to hear you. There is no one who can take your place" (Tom bowed and scraped, pleased in spite of his deep dejection), "and you, even you, can't win that debate for your side, I'll bet!" Tom's face said, "Just try me," and to the Judge's keen eyes it proved an inspiration. "Here, Tom," he said, "I'll bet you a Christmas dinner that you don't win !" "Done !" cried Tom, slapping his knee, while his face shone as if illumined by a sun-burst, "yo're a goner, Jedge; 111 get dat dinner, shore !" They both laughed as they went their separate ways, and Tom chuckled glee-fully, "Yo'll git you tukey, chilluns, fo' dey ain't but one way dat queshion kin come out! An' I didn't beg !" he added proudly. That night, much to Sallie's surprise, he went to the meeting of the Debating Society. The Evergreen Debating Society was an acknowl-edged feature in the life of Clarksburg. How it came to be so could never be accurately determined. Whether it had been born of Tom Wilson's overmastering love of argument, or of some one's else devotion to the church, or "whether its organization had been instigated by the law-yers of the town, who were its unfailing and delighted supporters, no one was willing,—perhaps able,—to testify. Whatever its origin, its right to existence was as unques-tioned as was that of Clarksburg's most honored citizen. Once in two weeks a debate was given before the pub-lic. Tom was always present, alive with keenest interest ; the ten-cent admission fees were received at the door as long as there was standing room inside, and afterward were faithfully turnedovertoZion's A.M. E. church which provided the room for the meeting ; and the front bench was never without representatives of the legal profession 54 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. who well knew they could give their friends and them-selves no better entertainment than an evening with the Evergreen. On these memorable occasions, the basemmt of the African church presented a sight which was imposing or ludicrous, according to the standpoint from which it was viewed. The long, low room was lighted on either side by lamps which were usually kept clean and bright; on the platform where the debate took place, the judges chairs were arranged with a precision which argued well for the fairness of the decision which their always grave, often pompous looking, occupants would render. Just below them, in the foremost ranks, were the seats reserved for "de white frien's"; while beyond these to the door, on seats and in the aisle, swarmed the belles and beaux of colored circles, old "Aunties" and "Uncles" who could not miss "de chillun's fun", with here and there a child which some unusually anxious mother could not bring herself to leave at home. The debate on the evening of which this story treats was one of vital interest to the negro element of the com-munity, and, consequently, offered more than ordinary attraction to the patrons for whom the front seats were reserved. Even the lamps seemed to be affected by the weirdness of the subject, "Ghost or No Ghosts ?" for they were smoky and dim. They seemed to say, by the dubious, questioning light which they gave forth, "We fully realize the momentousness of the question to be did cussed, and would consider ourselves personally respon-sible if, by shining out bright and clear, we unduly influenced the decision." Tom Wilson was wild with excitement. The hope of the dinner inspired him to a brilliant effort. He dashed into his argument, carrying his audience with him, until as he neared his conclusion, cold shivers were capering up and down the backs of his hearers, breaths were drawn in quick gasps, and when, just then, a door banged shut and some one exclaimed in abject fear, "Lawd a-massy !' the terror of the audience was complete, and the reality of THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 55 ghosts seemed established beyond the peradventure of a doubt. But alas for Tom! He was followed by a dapper little mulatto who argued so glibly, "from de stan' point ob scientificness," against the possibility of seeing ghosts, that the black eyes of the audience which, during Tom's speech, had been surrounded by ever-increasing rings of terrified white, gradully resumed their normal appear-ance, and their owners began to think that they might venture to pass the graveyard at night, some time, the braver ones even going so far as to think that perhaps they might try it that night. When the decision was rendered, it was overwhelm-ingly against the poor ghosts ; whereupon Tom sprang to his feet, and, bowing to the judges and then to the aud-ience, he turned again to the former and said, "With deepest respec' fo' yore corporosity ez jedges, I wants ter put dis queshion ter a risin' vote." The judges gave the desired permission, and Tom turned to the audience, saying, "All dose in dis hyar room wot b'lieves dey is no ghoses, rise to der feet." Those of the audience who had been most impressed by Mr. Perkins' profound argument started to rise ; but, seeing that "de white folk" on the front benches remained seated, they subsided into their seats again. Tom waited several impressive moments, and then he called, in a voice which rang out like a clarion, "Now, all dose wot b'lieves dey is ghoses, rise to der feet!" Instantly Judge Oliver and his friends sprang up, and their example was followed by the entire audience. Tom's grin showed all his white teeth. "I's glad ter see yo' all has de courage o' yore evic-tions." he said. "I 'llowed dat de ghoses in Pennsylvany couldn't be so mighty diffunt f'om ghoses in Virginy, an' I knows dey's ghoses down dar; least ways, ef I hasn't seen 'em I's heerd 'em!" And Tom retired amid a thun-dering burst of applause. As the audience filed out, one old Uncle said to another, "Wall, Rastus, wot yo' tink now ? It sutteny am mighty 56 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. quar how dese niggahs kin mak a pussen tink one ting one time an' anudder anudder.'' But Rastus only shook his head with a movement which Pete took for unqualified assent to his remark, but which Judge Oliver, who saw it, understood to mean an unalterable opinion on this subject. With a laugh he turned to the friend next him, and, pointing to Uncle Rastus, interpreted the expression of his face in the words of Edward Lear, "I think so then, and I thought so still.'" To Tom he whispered as he passed him, "I'll send the din-ner to-morrow so that Sallie Can cook it next day." Early on Christmas morning Tom shouted, "Hi! chil-luns, wek up ! It's Christmus !" Little Tom opened his eyes and stared stupidly ; but Pete only closed his more tightly as he muttered, " 'Taint no Chrismus 'thout Chrismus gif's." "Come on, an' see wot Santy Claus brung yer," in-sisted Tom in a voice so peculiar that the boys obeyed in spite of themselves. And lo! a vision of candy and oranges and toys greeted them such as their young eyes had never before beheld. In a single bound Pete seized a horn and began to blow it, while his brother approached more slowly and touched a tin soldier with one small black finger. Their father, delighted, stole softly down stairs. It was not until they were seated around the bounti-fully spread dinner-table that Pete found time to ask : "Who gev us these hyar Christmus gif's, ennyway?" Tom laughed ; then he said solemnly, "Dis dinner an' yore Chrismus gif's, chilluns, is a present f'om my 'steemed frien's, de ghoses ob Virginy." JAY SWEET. CHRYSANTHEMUMS. Just now, when the whole world seems dark and dreary, these lovely flowers come, to brighten with their cheery presence the last hours of the dying year. Everywhere is bleakness and desolation. Long ago the roses died, and were buried with the pride and beauty THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 57 of the lost summer ; the last leaf has fluttered away from the forest trees and found a grave with the flowers ; not a vestige remains of all the glory and grandeur of the Autumn time. And so we look around and say "Not one bit of beauty or brightness is left", and we mourn for the dear, dead flowers. But what is this ! Has Summer in her hasty flight for-gotten some of her treasures ? Has Autumn relented and spared to us a tiny part o'f her wealth and beauty ? For everywhere are masses of brilliant bloom, great clusters of many colored flowers. We look out upon the wonderful transformation. In the garden, where so lately all was bleak and barren, the blossoms peep forth, timidly at first, then bolder, until the pretty heads are brightening and smiling everywhere. How lovely they are! From, the great flower of purest white, with its snowy, curling petals to the tiny, golden bud, all are lovely. They are brave blossoms, too, and do not seem to mind the chill nights and. frosty mornings, but nod gaily in the sunshine, as tho' glad of their kindly mis" sion. And we fill our hands with the flowers, and wear them on our bosoms, and give them a place in our hearts. We note their delicate petals and beautiful colors, and we say, "These, too, shall be our favorite flowers." Their white purity tells us of the snowy flakes that shall fall, their crimson tints, of the glorious sunsets winter shall bring, and their gold, of the sunshine that shall follow shadow. No frail, delicate blossoms are these, flowers of the summer, bearing in their sweet perfume the memory of soft breezes and gentle sunshine, but brave, hardy flowers, heralds of the winter, bringing in their strong, bi tter odor, suggestions of wild winds and snowy scenes. And what beauty they bring ! They brighten the sad, dark earth until the snow shall come to cover her desola-tion. And when at last the poor old year shall die, and white flakes shall drift into his grave, his bier shall be strewn w;.th the faded blossoms of the Chrysanthemum. A. R. W., '99. 58 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. For " The Gettysburg Mercury." A COLLEGE SONG. The college days abound in joys The alumni oft recall, Our gala days have come, my boys, The happiest days of all. Chorus: Hail Gettysburg, live Pennsy boys ! Hail Pennsylvania! We forge ahead with little noise, But we'll "get there," 'rah ! 'rah ! Come, boys, the standard we'll sustain, The Course tops all to date, Let us endeavor to attain The scholar's high estate. Foot-ball's all right; yes, yes, (we guess); All other sports beside ; T'is brawn that gives brain-work success, Let "dafties" ponies ride. No cannon balls now make alarms ! The battlefield lies still, The "vets" return no more in swarms, But students "fill the bill." We're student girls and student boys, Do not forget, dear friends, Old Pennsy well deserves applause, Her fame far out extends. Hurrah for "The Gettysburgian"\ And "Mercury" renewed! New-made the College seeks the van And marches victor-viewed. —'80. A DEED OF A STORNY NIGHT. It was a fearful night. Pale lightning quivered at intervals through the clouds. The wind, howling around the corners in fitful blasts driving the rain before it in whirling, dizzying sheets, lent a horror and a wierdness almost unendurable. Flaring and fluttering in its at-temps to penetrate the gloom, the dim and uncertain street-lamp, swayed by the storm, cast huge, blurred, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 59 ghost-like shadows It is on just such nights, that crimi-nals commit their crimes. Having no light in my room, I was standing by the window looking out into the storm. I saw my neighbor, a man of suspicious character, even now in the shadow of the law, his coat buttoned close up to his neck, his hat drawn over his eyes, come out of his door, carrying something in his hand. I saw the look of grim determination, as the light from his own door streamed upon his face. I saw him with nervous tread, stooped posture, head thrown forward, and the arm which carried the doubtful something drawn back as though about to strike, sneak up to the corner of his house, where, in the friendly shadow of the street-lamp, he paused. Still it rains; but above the howl of the wind and the swish of the rain, soon he hears some one approaching. He cautiously peers around the corner, and sees by the light of the street-lamp that the man coming, bears a striking resemblance to a certain one who, only that morning, attempted in court to prove him a thief. Upon this man he had sworn to take vengeance. I see my neighbor crouching there ready to spring upon this man. Yet a few steps, and he will be avenged. Fearer comes the unsuspecting man ; lower my neighbor crouches ; the man is before him, I hear a low gurgle ; but the couch-ant figure did not spring upon him. Can this be the wrong man? The man is safely past, and still the figure is couchant. A glimmer from an opened door shows that I have been mistaken ; to-morrow is wash-day. He is placing a tub under the spout, and that low gurgle is made by the water falling into it. J. K. H. '00. THE INFLUENCE OF HAPPY THOUGHT. Our attention is often directed to the influence of our habits of actions upon our conduct and character, but the influence exerted by our habits of thought is not so gener-ally emphasized. This influence is no less potential and is ever more important than that produced by our habits of muscular action. GO THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. We can plainly see that each effort to use the fingers, in sewing or writing, for instance, leaves a tendency to do the same way until it becomes automatic. But we can not so clearly see what is progressing in the same way—that each thought tends to repeat itself until it is wholly invol-untary, and furthermore that every thought we think has either a good or bad influence in the formation of our character. Therefore in our college life it is esoecially important that we cultivate the habit of happy thought, because of the variety of our thoughts, the ones that we cherish pertinaciously will finally become a part of us and remain through life just as the action of the hand in writing or playing a musical instrument will finally become automatic. By the habit of happy thought is not meant the utter exclusion of all that is unpleasant and sad, but a sunny outlook upon life. Some one has said, "If we love beauty, and look for it, we will find it everywhere." Every book we read, every person we meet, every incident that occurs has a pleasant or an unpleasantside to it. We must choose which of these sides we will get into the habit of seeing. That, "Our thoughts are our angels," is certainly true if we are in the habit of seeing the bright side, if we are in the habit of cherishing happy thoughts. Two men may live in the same house, may have the same surroundings, but may not live in the same world. To the one everything seems dark, deformed, and the world seems to be out of joint; in men he sees only the cimes without, but not the good within. The other lives in the sunshine of life ; he is friendly to everbody; no one wishes him harm. He has formed the habit of happy thought; the other has not. As our thoughts are, so will be our actions, our char-acters. Bishop Porteous said, "Bad thoughts quickly ripen into bad action," and it is just as true that happy, altruistic thoughts produce good and noble men and women. Pure, virtuous thoughts are as guardian angels to watch over and protect us from evil and wickedness. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 61 Plato said, "Thinking is the talking of the soul with itself.' The conversation of some persons is not only pleasant but also profitable to us, of others it is injurious. So are our thoughts sources of extreme happiness, as well as a benefit, or they are an injury to us. As we are judged by the company we keep so are we known to the world by the thoughts we think because they reveal themselves in our character, our action, and also in our features. Our minds are gates and their keeper, the Will, will exclude all thoughts we do not desire. Those that do enter will soon find themselves in the world of action. H. S. R., '01. LIFE'S DUTY. Old bells grown such with ringing Peal sweetest melodies ; Song-birds cease not from singing Though brown and bare the trees; The brook that leaps in glory And turns the busy mill, Is praised in song and story; But ne'er the one that's still. When purple morn appeareth, When hours are long and bright, When twilight slowly neareth And silent fades in night; Go forth unto your duty, Though it be play or work; Those lives contain most beauty Which ne'er a duty shirk. When all your toil and sorrow On earth is here complete, The angels, on the morrow, And loved ones you will meet. O sweet and blessed meeting, When portals ope to all! O joyous, happy greeting, Within the jasper wall! —C. S. B., ■^■■1 02 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 1HEGAME AT PHILADELPHIA. SEEN THROUGH A WOMAN'S EYES. Perhaps it may interest your readers to hear of the great game from one who was there. The day was Heaven's own child, the mists of the morning had rolled away and there could not have been more delightful conditions for those who came to see. For those who came to play ball the day was too warm, so said "those-who-know." And just here I may say that "those-who-know" have a decided advantage over common folk who do not know, when it comes to a game of foot-ball. For instance when attention is called to the number of rooters on the field, the unknown scans the field, sees no pigs, confesses ignorance and learns that the excitable young men with huge tin horns—megaphones I believe—are the professional "rooters." I suppose it has a classical root, since it is in the college boys vocabu-lary. Eyes that are unaccustomed to crowds fail to esti-mate when numbers exceed the hundreds ; so to me there seemed to be • an innumerable host of beings, closely packed in the tiers of seats on the ball ground. A University man says twenty-five thousand tickets were sold ; probably twenty thousand people were there. At any rate it was an interesting scene, one not easily for-gotten, and what matters a few thousands more or less to such a host. It was a jolly crowd ; hundreds of college boys sang, bands played, men and women chattered, and at intervals came the "yells" of two Universities. But the supreme shout greeted the players as they ran upon the field; the Harvard boys in their crimson stockings and sweaters ; the U. P. team in their garments of red and blue. Last of all came Jumbo, clad in a red and blue blanket; and as the heavy mastiff ran into the centre of the field and took the ball into his jaws, another round of cheering broke forth for the U. P's. mascot. The large number of Harvard partisans was a matter of surprise ; and it was a pleasure to us who wore the crimson badge, but went feeling there would be no one to THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 63 cheer the Boston boys. On one of the stands two large Harvard flags—beauties they were, of crimson silk— floated out bravely on the breeze, until the second part of the game; when a wag lowered one of them in token of the waning fortune of the day. Gayly dressed women and merry girls wearing the college colors of their choice gave fine color to the scene that would have been monotonous without them. How monotonous a company of men would have been was im-pressed upon me by the prevalence of one tone in the hats worn by them. Surely out of ten thousand men, nine thousand five hundred wore the light gray felt hat that has come into the full tide of fashion. Get a gray felt, with a black and gray band and be happy. Only once did Harvard win the heartiest applause by their fine playing ; and that was in Parker's brilliant dash, which even the unknowning could fully appreciate. "Those-who-know" say it is an old trick by which the Penn boys should not have been caught; he called it a mossback but I cannot find this word in my diction-ary. At no time was Penn's. goal threatened. Harvard played a stubborn, defensive game from first to last. There were no serious accidents to mar the game ; bloody brow and limping legs, were trifles you know. Umpires and referees were much in evidence among the players, but on the whole great good feeling seemed to prevail. One U, P. man left the field "disqualified for slugging." It was sad to see the beaten team go deject-edly from one corner of the field, while from another cor-r ner the captain of the conquering band was borne from the field on the shoulders of his jubilant comrades. C. I, ■■■^■■H 64 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. EDITORS' DESK. Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow : The year is going, let him go ; Ring out the false, ring in the true. Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land, Ring in the Christ that is to be. —In Memoriam. * * * OuR"Gettysburg College Songs"is now only a question of time and leadership. The sentiment is strongly in fa-vor of the movement. Sentiment is the first essential, but only the first. We must have the songs. Every man who can versify and has a musical element in him should now seize this opportunity to show it. Many of the boys are already at work and others will do something during the long holidays. Our first song is from an alumnus. Next! MUCH the same might be said of the MERCURY. It is with us to stay as a literary paper and we are trying to conduct it in such a way as will meet the approval of our readers. All we need to make it the kind of a paper you think it ought to be is for you to write the kind of mater-ial you think it ought to contain. When you graduate, are you going to sit down and wait for a position to seek you, or are you going to seek it ? Can you prepare for life by a purely passive receptivity ? Mere knowledge is not power. The man of power is the man who has knowledge and skill. The latter comes only from within. Says Marion Crawford,''Any one who means to make a career of litera-ture must read widely and write much." The principle has a universal application. The vacant places on the staff are to be filled in the future by those who show by contribution the most inter-est and ability. By personal solicitations for material, we run counter to this proposed method of election. The so- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 65 lution is for you to give us articles unasked. If they are not published, the editor and writer are Ihe only ones in the knowledge; if you don't want your name before the readers as the author of your articles, again we are the only ones in the secret. "We have two educations, one which we receive from others, and one which we give to ourselves. It is this lat-ter which gives us our place in society and finally our condition in this life." ONE of the considerations entering into the average stu-dent's choice of a college or university is the extensiveness of its library. But after having begun his course he seems gradually to drift from his noble purpose of availing him-self of every advantage the library affords. This is more because he has not attempted to cultivate a taste for litera-ture, or thinks he has not the time to read, than because he believes that there is no gain in it. For who doubts the value of reading ? Who cannot single out the reader by his conversation, language, thoughts, in short, by his cul-ture? The force of Bacon's saying that, "Reading maketh a full man," is easily realized by him who associates with ci reader or is himself one. WE live in an age of books. Never before was there such a universal distribution of literature, available to practically every one. To-day it is almost a fact that no man has any excuse for being ignorant. If books and general literature can do so much for the ordinary man, what can they not do for him who is especially in pursuit of knowledge ? Students, awake and read ! It is needless to say that it should be the best. G6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. OUR EXCHANGE TABLE. The November issue of The Free Lance and of The Col-lege Student is a "Foot Ball Number." The former gives a record of foot-ball since '87 ; the latter has a nnmber of excellent articles on various phases of the game, three of which are written by members of the faculty. Women comprise 55 per cent of our undergraduates. Tbe Senior Basket-Ball Team bave honored Pennsyl-vania College by adopting orange and blue as their colors. —Irving Sketch-Buok. There are 1000 women in the medical schools of Tokio, Japan. Cambridge and Oxford refuse to bestow degrees upon women. Li Hung Chang graduated at the head of a class of 15,000. A series of articles on "Books one should read before graduation*' are appearing in The Lafayette. The fact is emphasized that it is easier to tell a college student what to read than when to find time to do it. Ann Arbor enrolls over 3000 students. Dartmouth students have adopted the honor system of examinations. All required work in Greek and Latin is completed in Freshman year. Senior year is all elective, Junior almost all. For every dollar spent on the army, Russia spends for public schools, li cents, France 18 cents, Italy 24 cents, Prussia 25 cents, Austria 46 cents, United States $3.50. The Kalends always contains some interesting stories. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 07 It ranks among our best exchanges. "Christmas Edition" is especially good. Robert R. Gaily, Princeton's famous foot-ball center, will soon sail to China as a missionary. Yale claims the honor of send-.ng out 92 college presi-dents. Harvard has 3739 students. We welcome the following exchanges : Wittenberger, Susquehanna, Midland, Roanuke Collegian, Maryland Collegian, The Pharetra, Mountaineer, Western Maryland Monthly, St. John's Collegian, The Campus, The Muhlen-berg, Ursinus Bulletin, The Phcenix, College Forum, Col-lege Folio, Mont Amoenian, Orange and White, Amulet, Normal Herald, Delaware College Review, Haverfordian, Cordiensis. Each of these contain some highly creditable work. We are deficient in a suitable place where they may be kept on file and be accessible to the students. SENSE AND NONSENSE. Of all the gifts this side of heaven That ever were to mortals given, The best to have, the worst to miss, The truest, sweetest source of bliss, The one rail left on Eden's fence, Stands the pure charm of common sense. LITTLE SISTER—"What's the diff'rence 'tween 'lec-tric'ty and lightnin'?" Little Brother—"You don't have to pay nuthin' fur lightnin'." A man with a two-inch brain and a three-inch mouth is like a five foot boiler and a seven-foot whistle—every time the whistles blows the engine has to stop. us THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE man who thinks he knows all there is to know is already too dead to know that he is dying. MOTHER—Johnny, you said you'd been to Sunday School. Johnny (with a faraway look)—Yes'm. Mother—How does it happen that your hands smell fishy? Johnny—I—I carried home th' Sunday School paper, an'—an' th' outside page is all about Jonah an' th' whale. You will find a full line of Pure Drugs & Fine Stationery PEOPLES' DRUG STORE. Prescriptions a Specialty. J. A. TawneY is ready to furnish clubs and board-ing houses with Bread, Rolls, &c, at short notice and reasonable rates. Washington and Middle Sts., Gettysburg David Troxel, .DEALER IN. FINE GROCERIES AND NOTIONS. =Yorli Street. Go To^ ^HOTEL GETTYSBURG^? BARBER SHOP. Centre Square. B. M. SEFTON. MUMPER & BENDER, Cabinet Making, Picture Frames. Baltimore St., - GETTYSBURG, PA. SIMON J. CODORI, —DEALER IN— BEEF, PORK, LAMB, VEAL, SAUSAGE, York Street, Gettysburg, J3F"Special rates to clubs. .Go To. ^TIPTON & BARBEHEOt BARAERS, In the Eagle Hotel, Cor. Main and Washington Sts. Subscribe for > The PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. RCGUJIIUIiATED WEAIiTH. Laying: up of riches isn't the only thing in life, for frequently a sour disposition is Hie result. You want to take comfort in life as you go along, one of the best ways to taRe comfort is to buy well-fltting clothing. My Fall Styles are now here and the selection is large and varied Suits made to your order from §12 up. Pressing and Repairing done at short notice. J. D. LIPPY, Merchant Tailor. 45 Chambersburg St., Gettysburg. G. E. SPANGLER, (Successr to J. W. Eicholtz & Co.) DEALER IN PIANOS, ORGANS, MUSIC, MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, STRINGS, Etc. YORK STREET, ist Square, Gettysburg. 1108 CHESTNUT STREET, PHILADELPHIA. Wright's EngraYing House, HA8 become the recognized leader in unique styles of COLLEGE and FRA-TERNITY ENGRAVINGS and STATION-ERY, College and Class-Day Invitations, engraved and printed from steel plates ; Programmes, Menus, Wedding and Re-ception Invitations, Announcements, etc. etc., Examine prices and styles before ordering elsewhere. 50 Visiting Cards from New Engraved Plates $1.00. ERNESTA. WRIGHT, noS CliestnutSt., Philadelphia. ^JOHN L. SHEADS, NEW CIGAR STORE Next door to W. M. Depot, Gettysburg, Pa. ~P. F. HENNIG7 —DEALER IN— Bread, Rolls, Pretzels Crackers, YORK STREET, GETTYSBURG. ®°Reasonable Rates to Clubs. L. D. MILLER, ig Main St., Gettysburg. Grocer, Confectioner and Fruiterer. ICE CREAM and OYSTERS in SEASON. GETTYSBURG, PA., Main St. Free 'Bus to and from all trains. Rates $1.50 ta $2.00 per day. Thirty seconds' walk from either depot. DINNER WITH DRIVE OVER FIELD WITH 4 OR MORE $1-35. JOHN E. HUGHES, Prop'r Go Tn __ c. A. BLOCHER'S Jewelry Store .FOR. Souvenir Spoons, Sword Pins, &c. All Kinds of Jewelry. Repairing a Specialty. Post Office Corner, Centre Square. PHOTOGRAPHER, NO. 3 MAIN STREET, GETTYSBURG, PA. Our new Enameled Aristo Por-traits are equal to Photos made afiywhere, and at any price. WE RECOMMEND THESE BUSINESS MEN. BASE BALL SUPPLIES, Spaldings League Ball, Mits, Masks, etc., Managers should send for samples and special rates. Every requisite for Tennis, Golf, Cricket, Track and Field Gymnasium Equipments and Outfits. Complete Catalogue Spring and Summer Sports Free. "THE NAME THE GUARANTEE" A. G. SPLLDING, & BROS., New York, Philadelphia, Chicago. S. G. Spangler, & Co. Fine Groceries, iN1 •*- Telephone 39, 102 E. Middle Si. S. J. CODO$I, JPM DRUGGIST. .DEADER IN., Drugs, Medicines, Toilet Ar-ticles, Stationery, Blank Books, Amateur Pho-tographic Supplies, Etc., Etc. BALTIMORE STREET. R. H. GULP, 43. * $ ">.v Second Square, York Street. College Emblems, EJVIIli ZOTHE, Engraver, Designer and Mauufact'g Jeweler. 19 SOUTH NINTH STREET; PHILADELPHIA, PA. SPECIALTIES : Masonic Marks, Society- Badges, College Buttons, Pins, Scarf Pins, Stick Pins and Athletic Prizes. All goods ordered through C.H.Tilp. BOHRDINCT By Day, Week or Month. Rates reasonable. House equipped with all modern improvements. GROCERY STORE in same building. Full line of goods kept and sold at small profits. House and Store located on Cor. of College Campus, opposite Brua Chapel. ^"Public Patronage Solicited Samuel EC. Tanghinbangh, Prop. MENEELY BELL CO. Troy, N. Y. Manufacturers of SUPERIOR BELLS. The 2000 pound bell now ringing in the tower of Pennsylvania College was manufactured at this foundry. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. AH^ E$(ERT —DEALER IN— Hats, Shirts, Shoes, Ties, Umbrellas, Gloves, Satchels, Hose, Pocket Books. Trunks, Telescopes, Rubbers, Mo'.',. Etc., AMOS ECKERT. Job printer1, WEAVER BUILDING, Centre Square, JO1|RJ. Thomseu's Sons IMPORTERS AND JOBBERS OP + DRUGS, '• Nos. 16 and 18 W. German street, BALTIMORE, SID. Offer to the trade their large and well-selected stock ol' DRUGS, MEDICINES, CHEMICALS and PERFUMERY. Make a specialty to have on hand everything required by Pharmacists. A complete stock can at any time be selected or wants supplied. ALONZO L. THOMPSEN, Manufacturing Chemist. Race, Winder, Sharp & Leadenhall Sts , P. O. Box 557. BALTIMORE, MD. I beg to call attention to the trade that I have recently added to my Plant a com-plete set ol Drug Milling Machinery of the most improved pattern. J. I. MUMPER, PHOTOGRAPHER, 29 BALTIMORE ST., GETTVSBEKG, PA. Speciai Mtention CQLLEGE WORK. A PINE COLLECTION OP BATTtEFIFLD VIEWS. Always on- hand. Mail Orders receive Prompt Attention. CALL ON . . F. MARK BREAM, The Carlisle Street Grocer, Who always has on hand a full line of fine Groceries. WE RECOMMEND THESE BUSINESS MEN. HOTEL GETTYSBURG, Located on Centre Square where McClellan House formerly stood. GET"n SBUIW, PA. RATES $3 PER DAY. It is the acknowledged Lead-ing Hotel of Gettysb'g Heat-ed throughout with steam; hot or cold Baths; commodious Sample Rooms: Dinine-room capacity 200; has a Cosine of par excellence. Headquarters for League American WfaejBl-man. Headquarters couimei" cial travelers. Headquarters military or civic societies, Free 'bus to and from all trains. II. .V I>. K. Miller Prop's. ElfflER & AMEND, Manufacturers and Importers of CHEMICALS ani CHEMICAL • APPARATUS, 205, 207, 209 & 211 Third Avenue, Corner 18th Street. NEW YORK. Finest Bohemian and German Glassware, Rojal Berlin and Meis-sen Porcelain, Purest Hammered Platinum, Balances and Weights. Zeiss Microscopes, and Bacteriologi-cal Apparatus, Chemical Pure Acids and Assay Goods. — Established 1S76 -*■ PENROSE MYERS, Watchmaker and Jeweler. Gettysburg Souvenir Spoons, College Souvenir Spoons, No. 10. Balto. si. Gettysburg', Pa "PRICES ALWAYS RIGHT" THE LUTHERAN PUBLISHING HOUSE. ^ No. 42 North 9th St., "^' PHILADELPHIA, PA. Acknowledged Headquarters for ANYTHING and EVERYTHING in the way of Books for Churches, Families, Col-leges, and Schools, and Lit-erature, for Sunday Schools. Please Remember That by sending your orders to as you help build up and develop one of the Church institutions, with pecun-iary advantage to yourself, Address;, Henry S. Boner, Sui>"t. No. 42 North 9;h Street, p PHILADELPHIA. BARBER ^SHOP, CHARLES C. SEFTON, Proprietor, BALTIMORE STREET. The place for Students to go. Only First-class Tonsorial Work.

Issue 28.6 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard. 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 I~VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. 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 Dt, imty 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 (~) 1969by REVIEW FOg REmnlous at 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two years; other countries: $.5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. BOX 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to REVIEW RELIGIOUS ; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. NOVEMBER 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 6 BROTHERS THOMAS MORE, C.F.X:, AND LEO RYAN, C.S.V. Development: A New Challenge to Religious In a majority of the articles written these days in religious journals, the emphasis has been largely on areas which are of great concern for those seeking ways to achieve renewal and adaptation in the religious life. As a result, new and valuable insights have been gained in such areas as government, the evangelical counsels, prayer, community, personal responsibility, the aposto-late, secularization, and formation. There is, however, one significant movement which has yet to be fully treated in journals written for re-ligious. And because this movement could elicit from the religious families in the Church a response corre-sponding to that which characterized the great move-ments in the past, we want to draw the attention of religious to this phenomenon so that it" can become a + growing part of the literature on renewal and adapta- + tion. This movement can best be described as development. Because development is still more or less in its infancy stage, only gradually emerging into a full-blown move-ment in society and in the Church, it is not our in-tention to give here a definition of the term. Instead, we want to describe a number of events and programs which will illustrate not only the potential dynamism of de-velopment but also the implications which it has for religious institutes. On January 6, 1967, Paul VI issued the motu proprio Catholicam Christi Ecclesiam setting up the Pontifical Justice and Peace Commission. The objective of this Commission would be "to arouse the people of God to 869 Thomas More, C.F.X., is superior general of the Xa-verian Brother~; Antonio Bosio 5; 00161 Rome, Italy. Leo Ryan, C.$.V., is general councilor of the Viatorian Fath-ers and Brothers; Via Sierra Nevada 60; 00144 Rome, Italy. VOLUME 2B, 1969 + 4. 4. Brothers More and Ryan REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS full awareness of its mission at the present time, in order on the one hand, to promote the progress of poor nations and encourage international social justice, and on the other, to help underdeveloped nations to work for their own development." 1 Shortly after establishing this new curial organ, Paul VI issued his famous encyclical, Populorum progressio, which is the charter of the Pontifical Commission and its basic text. The call of the encyclical is to all the Church, which is to be educated, stimulated, and in-spired to action by it. Cardinal Maurice Gilroy of Quebec, president of the Pontifical Commission, and Monsignor Joseph Gremil-lion, its secretary, set about the arduous task of travel-ing throughout the world to create national commis-sions for justice and peace witkin bishops' corr[erences. After this work had been completed, the commission turned to the Union of Superiors General in Rome to solicit its support. Monsignor Joseph Gremillion per-sonally addressed the Union, urging it to establish con-tact with the Commission and to take an active role in the promotion of the aims of development within all the religious families of the Church. in May, 1968, the Union unanimously approved the writers of this article as its official liaison with the Pontifical Commis-sion. Now that the liaison committee has been in existence for one year, it is in a position to discern a number of trends which indicate the response religious institutes will make to development in the immediate future. The remainder of this paper will be devoted to an elabora-tion of these trends and a brief description of the more important programs from which these trends have is-sued. At the present time we see four trends in development which have significant implications for religious insti-tutes. It is very dear now that development has an ecumenical character. Second, because of the nature of development, religious institutes will be looking for- 1Father. Arthur McCormack makes the following clarification: "The name Justice and Peace must be understood in the following way: Justice means social justice within and between nations so that every human being should have conditions of life in keeping with his human dignity, which will enable him to progress towards a fully human development--to the fullness of a more abundant life~ and enable him also to make his contribution to building a new and better world. Peace is to be understood, not in the sense of main-raining peace or working for peace in the political or diplomatic sense, but in the sense of building peace--the new name for peace is development--producing the conditions that are fundamental for peace, a more just, humane, better world in accordance with para. 76 of the Encyclical, Populorum Progressio" ("The Pontifical Com-mission Justice and Peace," World Justice, v. 8 (1967), pp. 435-55). ward to training specialists in planning, sociology, tech-nology, and social justice. Towards this end, some re-ligious institutes are establishing within their general administration a secretariat for development, Third, there is a growing spirit of collaboration within re-ligious institutes, since it is evident that no religious family can tackle the problems with its own resources. Finally, there is a search for a new theology of develop-ment. 1. Ecumenical Character oI Development In the spring of 1968, the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace, the Catholic .Rural Life Society, under the direction of Monsignor Luigi Liguitti, SEDOS, FERES, and ISS2 sponsored a two-day seminar on the Church in developing countries at the theologate of the Oblates of Mary, Rome. This seminar was arranged specifically for superiors general and their curias to acquaint them with development. However, interest in the meeting was so great that it turned out to be a cross-section of some of the most important European bodies having a Third World orientation. At the meet-ing were representatives from several Roman Congrega-tions, the German mission-sponsoring agencies Adveniat and Misereor, Caritas Internationalis, Protestant ~6b-servers, sociologists, and a number of developing organi-zations from Italy, France, Germany, Belgium, and Hol-land. The Catholic-Protestant team under the direction of Canon Houtart (FERES) and Professor Egbert de Vries (ISS) gave the audience a report of their three-year Ford-funded study of the Churches' work in the four developing countries of India, Brazil, Indonesia, and the Cameroons, in the areas of education, medicine, and social work.3 But of far greater importance than any of the socio-logical findings of the three-year study of FERES-ISS was the ecumenical character of the study and the seminar. The meeting was tangible evidence of the growing spirit of collaboration between the Catholic Church and the World Council of Churches, especially in an area which was once the most sensitive one in ~SEDOS (Servizio di Documentazione e Studi) is a cooperative documentation and research venture on the part of about thirty superiors general in Rome. FERES (Federation Internationale des Instituts Catholiques de Recherches Socio-religieuses) is the inter-nationally well-known research center in Brussels. ISS (Institute for Social Studies) is the Protestant counterpart of FERES and is lo-cated at The Hague. 8 A report of this seminar has been published by SEDOS under the title, The Church in Developing Countries;.Via dei Verbiti, 1; Rome, Italy. ÷ ÷ Development VOLUME 28, 1969 871 4" 4" Brothers More and Ryan REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the past--the developing countries. It is not surprising, then, that one of the most important conclusions ac-cepted by the superiors general was that cooperation between the different denominations be extended. Moving quickly from theory to action, the superiors general of several congregations devoted to medicine shortly after the seminar entered into discussions with the Christian Medical Commission, a semi-auton-omous organism related to the World Council of Churches. As a result of a number of meetings between Mr. J. McGilvray of the Executive Committee of the CMC, Geneva, and these religious congregations, the CMC Executive Committee reached the important con-sensus this past March that five Roman Catholic con-sultants would be appointed to the Commission after nomination by the Secretariat for the Promotion of Christian Unity. These consultants were present at the Commission's general assembly in August of this year. A third example of ecumenical cooperation in de-velopment is of far greater significance, since it was mounted on a larger international stage. In 1967 the World Council of Churches and the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace formed the E~ploratory Committee on Society, Development and Peace (SODEPAX) as an experimental instrument for ecumenical collaboration. Father George H. Dunne, S.J., formerly of Georgetown University, was appointed by Dr. Eugene Carson Blake and Cardinal Maurice Roy as joint secretary of this committee. SODEPAX held a conference in April, 1968 on world cooperation for development in Beirut, Lebanon, to which it invited sixty specialists from all over the world. The participants were Protestants, Orthodox, Catholics, observer-consultants from intergovernmen-tal bodies, and two participants from the Muslim com-munity of Lebanon.4 The conference was the first attempt on the part of the World Council of Churches and the Roman Catholic Church to jointly study and plan the involve-ment of the Christian bodies for the betterment of society. It is a concrete example of the way churches will unite their moral forces towards achieving human dig-nity and world peace. One of the conclusions of the meeting states this objective in terms which make an appeal to all religious: This Report has suggested many ways in which the Churches, acting together, can foster development programs both in ¯ A report of this conference has been published under the title, World Development, the Challenge to the Churches; Publications Department; The Ecumenical Center; 150 Route de Ferney; Geneva, Switzerland. the advanced and developing countries. Joint action for de-velopment will serve basic Christian aims. To work for devel-opment is to express in particular measures the aspiration for brotherhood and human dignity for every individual. And it can also be a significant contribution toward a more orderly and peaceful world. Development can gradually reduce the gross imbalances which promote instability; working together can encourage a wider sense of community among mankind; and the strengthening of international agencies will create structures for common effort and order. These three examples of ecumenical collaboration in the field of development are growing evidences of the need for all religious institutes to work together with other Christian bodies to concert their actions for play-ing their part in the long task of building a more stable international order of well-being and peace for the whole human family. This ecumenical spirit should be built into the thinking and planning of general and provincial chapters, constitutions, formation programs, and the apostolic work of religious families. It should also be the concern of national conferences of re-ligious institutes. The work is of too vast proportions to be left to the interest of those few religious who have up until now been involved in development. 2. Specialists and International Vocation The second trend in development in religious com-munities is the deployment of personnel to act as specialists in the Third World, along with the estab-lishment within general curias of a secretariat for de-velopment. Shortly after the seminar on the Church in develop-ing countries, Misereor approached the superiors general with an offer to provide funds for the training of some specialists who would assist bishops' conferences in de-veloping countries in setting up offices of trained experts in planning. The offer came as a result of the dis-cussions at the seminar concerning the lack of the skills of planning for the proper deployment of dwin-dling personnel, the retooling of personnel for meeting the new needs of the day, and the necessity for co-operating with governments in national planning. The time had come, it was agreed, for religious com-munities to become deeply involved in this modern approach and to train experts who would have com-petency as well as apostolic zeal. After many months of discussions with the superiors general, Misereor agreed early this year to provide funds for the training of highly qualified development experts for the countries of Indonesia, East Africa, and the Congo. Other countries would be added as the pool of experts becomes larger. As the agreement was finally 4, 4, Development VOLUME 28, 1969 873 Brothers More ¯ and Ryan REVIEW FOR ~ELIGIOUS worked out, the funds are in the form of a scholarship for 'the trairiing of experts in the fields of social ac-tion, science, communication, cooperatives, trade unions, medicine, agriculture, and technology. These experts would be seconded to central advisory and coordinat-ing bodies in the selected countries and would devote themselves specifically to the analysis of the problems, the planning of a strategy, and the coordination of pro-grams with national planning. This new type of service would be rendered by the religious ~ommunities only at the invitation of interested bishops' conferences of one of the three countries. This proposal clearly indicates that as the religious communities become more involved in social action, they will need more experts in this field. It also be-comes increasingly clear that religious congregations will now turn their efforts towards promoting and edu-cating a corps of highly qualified men and women who will act not for their individual communities alone but in teams for ihe good o[ society. This task force con-cept of highly competent religious from different in-stitutes could be the most dramatic response of religious congregations to the challenges provided in the Third World. From what we have just said, it is evident that re-ligious will have to respond more promptly and in-telligently to what we would call the apostolate of internationalism. To act as specialists in the Third World, to become globally involved in development, re-llgious will be entering more actively into what Barbara Ward calls our planetary community, a community which. cuts across all the lines and barriers of nations and races. In such a community, religious ought to feel very much at home, especially since the vision of all founders of religious communities extended beyond the hori-zons of a particular country or culture. That spirit which inspired founders to send their men and women to meet the needs of mankind in all parts of the world must now impel their followers to send trained and competent personnel to participate in international bodies which are working to achieve the humaniza-tion' of mankind. This apostolic thrust could be as dramatic and far-reaching as the missionary journey of Francis Xavier to the Indies. There are a number of religious currently engaged in this international apostblate. Those we have met or know of are: Father John Schutte, S.V.D., who was recently appointed by Pope Paul as assistant to Mon-signor Joseph Gremillion, Secretary of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace; Father Arthur Mc- Cormack, M.H.M., special consultant to the same Com-mission; Father Philip Land, S.J., Gregorian University, Rome; Father George H. Dunne, s.J., SODEPAX Joint Secretary, Geneva; Father Thomas F. Stransky, C.S.P., Secretariat for Promotion of Christian Unity; Mother Jane Gates, Superior General of the Medical Missionary Sisters, who is working with the World Council of Churches in the field of medicine; and Father Theodore M. Hesburgh, C.S.C. The first indication we have of a religious institute becoming serious about development and the promo-tion of the international apostolate is the derision of Father Pedro Arrupe, superior general of the Jesuits, to establish a secretariat for development within the curia of his general administration. Father Francis Ivern has been appointed by Father Arrupe to head this secretariat. Similar offices could be set up in many of the larger congregations of men and women. In the case of smaller units, it is quite possible that interested and competent religious could be, as a matter of policy, trained to take their place in general curias. Others could be as-signed to work on task forces, national bishops' con-ferences, international or national research centers, na-tional conferences of religious, and the pontifical or the national conferences of justice and peace. 3. Spirit of Collaboration It is quite evident from what has been said above that there is growing within religious congregations and institutes a greater spirit of collaboration to make the response called for by Populorum progressio and the objectives of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace. Since the work of development is of such gigantic proportions, no one rellgious institute can unilaterally plan its involvement in it. No one individual religious, or even a cadre of them, can shoulder the heavy re-sponsibility of this new apostolate. It must be the work of all religious, or the efforts for the humanization of mankind will be considerably weakened. One model of collaboration already exists in Rome. It is an organization to which we have already re-ferred many times, namely, SEDOS. This voluntary organization of a number of superiors general, formed only six years ago on the initiative of a few missionary congregations, has in a short time given proof of the results that can flow ~om the spirit of collaboration. Within a span of just one year, for imtance, SEDOS has held a seminar on development, a symposium on the theology of development and mission, and a con-÷ ÷ ÷ Developme~ VOLUME 28, 1969 875 Brotmheurl s. RM~oarne REVIEW FOR.RELIGIOUS terence on intermediate technology. As noted already, it has worked out an agreement with Misereor to finance the education of a number of specialists for developing countries. It is also actively engaged in es-tablishing guidelines for a mutual exchange of ideas between the World Council of Churches and medical missionary congregations in the field of medicine. SEDOS is unique in a number of ways. Its member-ship consists of both men and women religious. Its ex-ecutive secretary is Father Benjamin Tonna, a secular priest from Malta, who is a professional sociologist. The director is Miss Joan Overboss, a multilingual expert from Holland. But its uniqueness lies principally in its spirit of co-operation among the superiors general in facing the new problems evolving from the Third World. Since there was no structure among religious institutes or in any Roman curial congregation to help religious fami-lies prepare themselves for their involvement in the work of development, superiors general united their forces to establish a documentation and research center which would enable them to convert from a family business to a modern and efficient concern. Thus, for the first time in the Church's history, religious congre-gations have banded together at the highest level to make their contribution in an area in which the Church in recent years has focused its principal at-tention. This same spirit of collaboration is evident in such countries as the Congo and Indonesia, where religious are working together with bishops' conferences in es-tablishing planning secretariats. Quite recently we read an appeal by the East African conference of religious to its membership to turn itself to the question of de-velopment and to form a task force that would assist the bishops' conferences in establishing a secretariat for development. If religious congregations are to involve themselves in this apostolate, this spirit of cooperation must con-tinue to grow. Many religious want to see their in-stitutes take decisive measures to execute the social objectives of Populorum progressio and to work actively to achieve the goals of the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace. The younger generation of religious also want to become actively engaged in working to create conditions within and between nations that are in keeping with the human dignity of man. But they need some concrete programs to give them direction. As a step towards establishing some programs, con-ferences of religious and individual institutes could give attention to the following suggestions made by the Pontifical Commission of Justice and Peace at the end of its first plenary meeting of March, 1967: 1. That Bishops' Conferences, teaching orders and all those concerned with education should be encouraged to include the teaching of international social justice in the curricula of schools, seminaries, universities and all institutions of learn-ing. 2. That retreats, sermons and specifically religious instruc-tion should emphasize the discussion of world justice, ~. That such curricula should be, where possible and suit-able, worked out on an ecumenical basis. 4. That competent study groups, again when suitable on an ecumenical basis, should continue the work of elaborating a doctrine of world-wide development and justice. 5. That lay groups of all kinds be invited to include world justice in their programs of adult education and, when com-petent to do so, assist the Commission in suggesting programs for the mass media. 4. A New Theology ot Development A concern very often expressed at the seminar on de-velopment alluded to above was that what was needed was an honest exchange of views on the theological foundation of development. In fact, one of the prin-cipal resolutions of the seminar asked the Congregation for Evangelization to put the theology of development on its agenda for its next meeting and for eventual presentation to the Holy Father as agenda for the next Synod of Bishops. Another resolution requested a sym-p. osium on mission and development. These two actions reveal that a theology of develop-ment has become a matter of urgency for religious. So long as the effort of missionaries was expended 'within the limits of a parish or a diocese, no special problem presented itself. But today the organization of develop-ment has become a much more complex affair; it has assumed the dimensions of whole nations, of entire continents, of the planetary community itself. While such a task calls for specialists, the ordinary missionaries run the danger of no longer seeing and understanding the role they are called on to play in the task of de-velopment. They stand, then, in perplexity when faced with the contradictory opinions of theologians. If some theolo-gians insist on the irreplaceable character of the proc-lamation of God's word and of the sacramental ministry, missionaries taken up with the tasks of development be-cause of the demands of the situations in which they find themselves and the concrete needs they daily encounter are troubled by an uneasy conscience. If other theologians stress the primary role of development, then those mis-sionaries whose tasks are those which belong to the more + + + Developmem VOLUME 28, Z969 8?7 traditional patterns of the apostolate begin to question the value of what they are doing. It was in response to this perplexity that the superiors general of SEDOS held a mission theology symposium in Rome this past April. Theologians from Europe and other parts of the world were invited to tackle this prob-lem first among themselves, and second in open discus-sions with the generals and their staffs.~ This symposium's importance lies in the fact that it has brought before religious congregations the theologi-cal dimensions of development, while adding to the growing literature on tlfis subject. This hard confronta-tion with the realities of development is a hopeful sign of growth within the Church and religious institutes. And instead of standing before the reality with perplex-ity and bewilderment, religious institutes, with their sense of global dedication, ought to be in the vanguard of working out a new theology of development. This mission theology symposium should set the pace for all religious families of the church. It has been our intention in this paper to draw the attention of religious to the phenomenon of develop-ment so that it can become a growing part of the litera-ture on renewal and adaptation. As a contribution to this literature on renewal, we have pointed out four major trends we have noted over the past year in the field of development as they affect religious institutes. The contribution religious can make to development, we are convinced, is enormous. The single attempts being made here and there must spring into a massive effort that will engage religious in a venture that has taken the center stage of the Church. If development is the new word for peace, it is a new challenge to religious. ~ Preparations are being made for the publication of the pro-ceedings of this symposium in various languages. The English edi-tion will be published by Maryknoll Publications. Brothers More and R~an REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JAMES A. CLARK Placing U. S. Personnel in Latin America Once a bishop or provincial decides to give manpower assistance to Latin America, he quickly discovers the dif-ficulties of attempting to find the wisest way to assign priests, brothers, or nuns to projects in Latin America. Since few authorities can agree on proper priorities for such placements, a superior is wise to recognize im-mediately that optimum, effective assignment of per-sonnel throughout Latin America represents an unat-tainable goal. In the past, assignment of American religious in the southern half of the hemisphere resulted from acciden-tal factors. The high ratio of Americans in Peru derived from the efforts of a zealous nuncio who welcomed them warmly. The large numbers of Americans in Guatemala result from a statistic that indicated that Guatemala had the worst proportion of priests to peo.ple of any Latin American country. Bewildered superiors anxious to respond to appeals of the Vatican to send missionaries to Latin America seized on this fact as a reason to send their subjects to Guatemala. Localized concentrations of Americans usually can be traced to a friendship begun at the Vatican Council between North and Latin Ameri-can Church leaders or through the bonds of a religious community existing in both halves of the hemisphere. The complexity of properly placing people in Latin America appears as a new problem because previously the allocating of workers to missionary lands did not require any accommodation with a structured Church in the foreign situation as is the case now in Latin America. One locale appeared as needy and worthwhile as another for apostolic laborers. The presence of a viable and strong Church in Latin America demands :extreme delicacy in interposing foreigners to serve that Church. Yet the need is so general and widespread in Latin America that from a spiritual point of view it has be- 4- ÷ James A. Clark is a staff member of the apostolic delegation at The Manor House in Rockcliffe Park; Oto tawa 2, Canada. VOLUME 28, 1969 879 come impossible for even the indigenous Church to ar-rive at a generally satisfactory set of realistic and valid preferences. Priorities which have aided in the distribution of financial grants are applicable in part to the appoint-ment of people even. though this latter commodity, people, raises mnch more profound questions since it is so much more precious and scarce in Latin America. This dilemma especially concerns diocesan priests be-cause the international 'religious communities already have a functioning system for distribution of their mem-bers. This arrangement, made under the auspices of the Holy See, has served for generations and enables provincials to provide staff for missionary areas without an agonizing analysis in each case. Those communities without Latin American branches and bishops entering the field for the first time find the subject distressingly difficult. The. Most Reverend Marcos McGrath, Second Vice- .President of the Bishops' Council for Latin America (GELAM), has encouraged even the religious communi-ties to refuse to cling to traditional apostolates and to become open to new forms of ministry: Priorities of needs in the churches of Latin America can be determined most effectively when undertaken by a national episcopal conference. Deciding who comes first is a difficult exercise in the spirit of collegiality because each bishop would like to see his diocese at the top of the list. But it is a necessary exercise and is of great assistance to those from abroad who want to know what the bishops as a whole think about the needs of their country. A listing of priorities may indeed be prepared, by a special committee named by the local bishops. Such an arrangement has been requested in some instances by various organizations of assistance. CELAM's continental sec-retariat of the Latin American bishops may indicate some gen-eral priorities of needs through its specialized departments. ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Several complex plans have been proposed to resolve the problem of placement. The secretariat of the U.S. Bishops' Committee for Latin America once devised a coordinating committee of ten expert advisers to counsel bishops on the proper method of allocating personnel for Latin America. However since the ten could not agree among themselves on how to achieve best results the committee never met and the plan died. The secretariat received requests from most of the ecclesiastical jurisdictions in Latin America (more than 600) and circulated these to bishops and superiors of religious houses. However, no attempt to provide criteria for selecting one petition over another ever appeared. Standard policy urged superiors to.visit potential recipi- ¯ ent areas personally, a rather unrealistic suggestion for harried superiors already overstocked with requests for their manpower. Naturally, bishops prefer to retain jurisdiction over their priests. For this reason the concept of a military ordinariate type structure to recruit, train, and appoint personnel in Latin America failed to receive widespread acceptance, since experience .with military chaplains alerted bishops to the fear of losing control of their sub-jects for the major portion of their ministerial lives. Several prominent churchmen, support attempts to permit diocesan priests to serve in a religious community on the missions through a temporary connection with a religious order. Only diocesan priests who have lived for any length of time in the house of a religious society can foresee the difficulties of this plan. In spite of abundant good will on the part of all involved there is no escaping the feeling on the part of the secular priest that he is a "junior" or "non-incorporated" subject, without status and without the possibility of participation in decision making sessions. Likewise, this association causes the priest to lose identity both at home and abroad as a diocesan priest serving temporarily on the missions. The entry of diocesan priests with previous parish ex-perience into missionary areas revealed the value of these men over those who went directly to the missions upon ordination without any experience in a normal parish situation to use as a barometer for their missionary en-deavors. A diocese-to-diocese setup is not workable because one diocese in the States cannot properly provide for train-ing, support, leave time, illness, vacations, and so forth of overseas staff. Yet a method must be found which preserves the interest of the home diocese which usually provides the financial wherewithal enabling the Latin American mission to function. Other proposals include appointing men for a time to a national conference of bishaps in a given country, in-cardinating priests temporarily into a Latin American diocese, or assigning them to the U.S. Bishops' Com-mittee for Latin America, which, in conjunction with the U.S. and Latin American bishops involved, could arrange for training and distribution of priests. Two countries have established national offices to deal with this issue, and bishops assigning men to either Chile or Brazil need only refer to the national offices for ad-vice. Several methods of providing diocesan priests to Latin America have sprung up among the 76 dioceses involved in this effort. 24 dioceses merely permitted priests to go to Latin America. 17 assumed responsibility to support the volunteer priests during their term of Latin Ameri- 4- 4- 4- Latin America can service but they make no provisions for the assign-ment of these priests. 34 accept the task of supporting a parish or several parishes in Latin America. In Boston, Richard Cardinal Cushing founded in 1958 a society to bring these diocesan priests together. Currently this St. James (the Cardinal's middle name) Society counts slightly more than 100 members from 30 dioceses in the U.S. and several European countries. This corps pro-vides pastoral services to a half million people spread across Peru, Ecuador, and Bolivia. It represents the best vehicle currently available for sending diocesan priests to Latin America. A similar organization for pooling nuns going to Latin America received attention at an inter-American meeting of Bishops at Georgetown University in 1959 but has failed to be implemented. In attempting to establish priorities, the national conferences of Bishops in Latin America have proved to be a boon although usually the primatial archbishop in a country tends to see his own needs first and with good reason for he usually presides over the largest metropoli-tan portion of that country. But rural bishops complain about the criteria when they witness most foreign ar-rivals remaining in the capital city. Both CELAM and the Pontifical Commission for Latin America have sought to provide a solution in this sensitive area but without success, as most attempts at coordination cause disputes over the choice of one diocese over another as beneficiary of American clerics. Originally the Pontifical Commission offered the facili-ties of the nunciatures throughout Latin America as clearing houses, but a.fear of Roman control of the en-tire movement impelled both donor and petitioner dioceses to bypass quietly any Commission services. As a former nuncio in Panama, the late Archbishop Paul Bernier commented on this question during his tenure on the Canadian Bishops' Commission for Latin America: lames A. Clark REVIEW FOR'RELIGIOUS I think there is a strong feeling against forming a society of any kind. Most of the bishops, if I understand well, insist on having and keeping an effort of the secular clergy as such with no affiliation, neither to the diocese ad quam nor to any particular religious or semi-religious society but to keep all of them [the priests] incardinated in the diocese a qua. If they don't want to stay there for more than five years, or if for any other reason they cannot remain, they come back to their own diocese just as if they were never out of it. I think that in Canada at least the impression of the bishops would be rather contrary to affiliating or incorporating our diocesan ~nd secular priests to any particular society. Most bishops would be willing, however, to send according to their abilities one or two, five or ten priests, to some form of, not a society, but a responsible organization which in the last analysis would be in the hands of the Episcopal Committee for that. Whoever accepts responsibility for such appointments will have need of some priorities or guidelines since the priestly requirements of Latin America could not be fulfilled if every priest in. the United States went to Latin America. Some principles to follow in this area would include the following points. The i~rst choice to be made is a selection of a category of work for a religious volunteey, that is, shall I send my priest (or brother or sister) to work as a catechist, teacher, parish worker, or what? The departments of CELAM indicate the critical apostolates which normally will have first call on foreign services: education, medi-cine, social service, relief, charity, seminary/vocational work, catechetics, student/university apostolates, and service to laborers. Next the superior must choose a geographical classifi-cation, that is, shall I send him (her) to serve on the con-tinental level with CELAM, or on the regional or na-tional level with the conferences of bishops, or to the diocesan and local level. Foreigners often function best in posts removed from the intimate personal relation-ship of priest-to-parishioner which reqmres sensitive cul-tural perception. Usually their North American organi-zational talents achieve widest impact on a broader scale at the continental, regional, or diocesan levels. Also a decision must be made as to whether to send personnel to the rural or urban locations. Many Mary-knollers in Latin America have regretted the decision made many years ago to spread Society members across the mountain ranges. The impact of an individual is broader in the cities. On the other hand Cardinal Cush-ing says that the revolution in Latin America will be born in the mountains and the Church ought to be there. At one time it was thought preferable to assign North Americans to dioceses with North American bishops at the helm. This principle has been subsequently disre-garded since it leads to a danger of creating a church within a church, one foreign and one native. The monster parishes which have arisen in Latin America as a resuh of abundant American material and personnel aid have become a source of distress for Latin Americans and embarrassment for North Americans. Parish A flooded with American assistance can only re-flect poorly on parish B which is struggling along with local resources only. OccasionaIIy a choice arises between placing people in projects underwritten by private industry or govern-÷ ÷ ÷ Latin America VOLUM~ 28~ 1969 883 4- 4- REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 884 ments, for example, a company hospital or a state nor-mal school. These opportunities sometimes permit the assure, ption of responsibilities which would otherwise be financially prohibitive; on the other hand, alliance with a government or industrial concern can be severely det-rimental to the Church image and impact. .One essential requirement demands that the project given help be integrated into the local church structure. For this reason each local request must be approved by the national conference of bishops to insure that it co-ordinates with the national pastoral plan. From the viewpoint of the candidate to be sent to Latin America, if he or she speaks one of the languages of Latin America or has studied or served in a particular country naturally it is logical to assign the person to that place. All attempts to satisfy reasonable personal preferences will reduce the inevitable cultural shock suffered by v, olunteers. A first principle of sending people into Latin America is that they be sent as members of a team effort and never individually. The ability of the subject offering his services will sometimes be the final determinant of assignment; a seminary professor will not serve best in a slum parish nor will a Trappist normally function well in a mass communications program. Due to the profound social division in Latin America there is a need to predetermine whether personnel are to be placed in projects serving the wealthy or the im-poverished. In the latter case a realistic plan for external financing will normally be required. Projects which provide some hope of eventual self-sufficiency in regard to their staffing needs should be selected rather than those which will require permanent foreign workers. Realistic approaches to provide new solutions to basic religious problems of Latin America deserve special con-sideration. For examples, the novel approach to slum parish work of Father Andres Godin, a Canadian Oblate, in Lima, Peru; or that of American Oblate Edmund Leising who has developed a remarkable program in Brazil for promoting parish self-support through Ameri-can fund raising procedures; or the renowned apostolate of Father Leo Mahon in San Miguelito parish in Pan-ama who has discovered an entirely new process for parish effectiveness. These offer novel and successful approaches to stubborn problems. Similar examples of projects managed by Latin American priests themselves could be cited. Most superiors have the background to recognize that adequate and detailed financial arrangements must be agreed upon in advance by both sides to prevent animos-ity from developing on obscure financial responsibilities. The overall plan an agency presents ought to be ex-amined carefully to learn if it is realistically conceived. Experience in Latin America reveals that ill.constructed, idealistic proposals soon collapse. Those of us familiar with the problem of positioning personnel in Latin America are aware of the difficulties superiors face in this field. Hopefully some of the above remarks will assist the ongoing dialogue in this area and be of some assistance to those who seek to serve the Church by releasing people for work on the only Catholic continent of the globe. + + ÷ Latin America VOLUME 28, 1969 885 JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Comments on tl e Instruction on Formation Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., writes from St. Joseph's Church; $21 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania 19106. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Prepostulancy Nothing is said in the Instruction on a prepostulancy period. Number 4 states that it would be worthwhile to consider whether the practice of going directly to the novitiate from such places as aspirancies, apostolic schools, or minor seminaries should be continued or whether an interval of probation should be had to develop the human and emotional maturity of the candidate. In the case of those obliged to a postulancy by canon 539, § 1, this development can be taken care of during the postulancy, which can last up to two years and also be made while residing outside any house of the in-stitute (n. 12). There is nothing in the Instruction for or against such places as aspirancies but, as is clear from what was said above, number 4 presumes that they will continue to exist. Postulancy (nn. 4; 10-2; 33) Importance. "Hence it follows that all institutes, even those that do not prescribe the postulancy, must at-tach great importance to this preparation for the novice-ship" (n. 4). Purpose. This is to judge the suitability and aptitude of the candidate; to give a preparation that will enable the noviceship to be made more fruitfully; to provide a gradual transition from secular to religious life; and to verify and complete, if necessary, the religious knowledge of the candidate (nn. 11-2). "Tentative" in number 11 of the Vatican English translation is not in the Latin text and "to formulate a. judgment" is to form a judgment. Power of general chapter. In institutes in which the postulancy is of obligation by common law (in insti-tutes of perpetual vows: all women but in those of men only lay brothers) or by the constitutions, the gen-eral chapter may keep in mind, for a better adaptation of the postulancy~ the following norms (n. 12): Duration. In institutes in which the postulancy is not obligatory by common or constitutional law, the general chapter may determine its nature and duration, which can vary for different candidates but should not be too brief nor ordinarily longer than two years. In institutes in which the postulancy is obligatory from common law, it must last at least six full months (c. 589, § I), and this minimum time is more probably retained in the Instruction; but the general chapters of these institutes may also follow the two-year limit, the principle that the time may vary for different candi-dates, and probably that the minimum time may be less than six months (n. 12). 1 do not think the right of canon 539, § 2, to prolong the postulancy for six months extends to a postulancy of two years. A postu-lancy longer than two years would not be very rea-sonable, especially since it can be varied within that time for the individual. Place. Preferably not in the novitiate house, and it can be profitable for it to be made wholly or in part outside a house of the institute (n. 12). The postulancy may therefore be so organized that the postulants con-tinue to reside in their homes or in such another place as a college. See also numbers 4 and 11. The latter speaks of a "gradual transition from lay life to that proper to the noviceship." Director. The postulants, wherever the postulancy is made, are to be under the direction of qualified re-ligious, between whom and the master of novices there is to be sedulous cooperation (n. 12). Dross. The determination of the dress of the postu-lants appertains to the general chapter (n. 33). How-ever, canon 540, § 2, had required simply that the dress of the postulants be modest and different from that of the novices. It could therefore have been secular but modest; special and uniform, but this was not neces-sary; religious, but different from that of the novices. Noviceship (nn. 4-5; 13-33) Maturity requisite Ior beginning noviceship (n. 4). The noviceship should begin when the candidate is aware of God's call and has reached that degree of human and spiritual maturity which will allow him to decide to respond to this call with sufficient and proper knowledge and responsibility: "Most of the difficulties encountered today in the formation of novices are usually due to the fact that when they were admitted they did not have the required maturity., it must ÷ ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 887 ÷ ÷ ÷ $. F. Gallen, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 888 be affirmed that the age required for admission to the noviceship should be higher than heretofore" (n. 4). Place. The noviceship for validity must be made in a house legitimately designated for this purpose (n. 15) by the superior general with the consent of his council and according to the constitutions (n. 16). The superior general with the consent of his council and after consultation with the interested provincial may in a case of necessity permit also many novitiates in the same province (n. 17). When the small number of novices is not sufficient to promote community life, the superior general should, if possible, establish the novitiate in a community of the institute capable of aiding the formation of such a small group of novices (n. 18). To better meet some demands of their formation, the superior general may authorize that the group of novices be transferred during certain periods to another house of the institute designated by himself (n. 16). In particular and exceptional cases, the superior gen-eral with the consent of his council may permit that a candidate validly make his noviceship in a house of the institute other than the novitiate house, under the direction of a qualified religious acting as a master of novices (n. 19). Duration. For validity the noviceship must last for twelve months (n. 21). A continuous or interrupted absence from the noviti-ate group and house that exceeds three months ren-ders the noviceship invalid (ft. 22). In lesser absences the higher superior, after consulting the novice master and considering the reason for the absence, may in individual cases command an extension of the noviceship and determine its length, and this matter may also be determined by the constitutions (n. 22). Formative activity periods outside the novitiate house must be added to the required twelve months, nor may they be begun before a novice has spent three months in the novitiate (if the contrary is done, the noviceship be-gins only on the completion of the formative activity period) and must be so arranged that the novice spends a minimum of six continuous months in the novitiate, re-turns there at least a month before the first vows or other temporary commitment, and the time of the whole novice-ship extended in this manner may not exceed two years (n. 24). The noviceship amplified by such formative activity periods may not exceed two years, but this does not abrogate the right given to higher superiors in canon 571, § 2, to prolong the noviceship up to six months in a doubt about the suitability of a candidate. Such a prolongation is permitted in a noviceship of two years without formative activity periods. A higher superior for a just cause may permit first profession or commitment to be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days (n. 26). Formative activity periods. The general chapter by at least a two-thirds vote may experimentally enact, in keeping with the nature of the institute, one or more periods of formative activity outside the novitiate house, the number to be determined in practice accord-ing to the judgment of the master of novices with the consent of the higher superior, for the formation of the novices or, in some cases, for a better judgment of their aptitude for the life of the institute. Such periods may be used for one, several, or the entire group of novices. If possible a novice should not be assigned alone to these periods. In these periods the novices are under the direction of the master of novices (nn. 23, 25). "It must be emphasized that this formative activ-ity, which complements novitiate teaching, is not in-tended to provide the novices with the technical or professional training required for certain apostolic ac-tivities, training which will be afforded to them later on, but rather to help them, in the very midst of these activities, to better discover the exigencies of their vocation as religious and how to remain.faithful to them" (n. 5; see also n. 25). Separation of novices. There must be some separation between the novices and the professed religious, with whom, however, and with other communities, the novices may have contact according to the judgment of the master of novices. It appertains to the general chapter to decide, according to the nature of the institute and particular circumstances, what contacts may be had between the novices and the professed of the institute (n. 28). The use of the term "professed re-ligious" in the second sentence makes it sufficiently clear that there is no prohibition of contact between the novices and the postulants, as might be feared from the word "members" in the other two sentences of number 28. Studies during the noviceship. The general chapter may permit or command certain studies during the nov-iceship for the better formation of the novices, but doctri-nal studies should be directed to the knowledge and love of God and to the development of a more profound life of faith. From the twelve months of noviceship of number 21 all studies, even theological and philosophi-cal, made for obtaining diplomas or for acquiring a formation directed to preparation for fulfilling future Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 889 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 890 duties are forbidden (n. 29). Provided doctrinal studies are directed to the spiritual life, as prescribed in the first sentence, it is probably not forbidden to receive credits for such studies when these can be had but the studies are not to be directed to the attaining of credits. There is no doubt that the prescription on doctrinal studies in this first sentence also applies only to the twelve months of noviceship of number 21, as is also true of the canonical legislation in canon 565, § 3, on this point, "even though the Latin text says "during the time of the noviceship," not "during the regular novitiate year," as in the English translation. The latter also has "all formal study programs" in the second paragraph whereas the Latin reads "all studies." Dress o] the novices. It appertains to the general chapter to determine the dress of the novices (n. 33). Number 33 speaks of the "habit of the novices and of other candidates for the religious life." It certainly had not been the practice nor is there any tendency to give a religious habit to postulants, and the meaning here of "habit" is "dress." No limitation is placed on the power of the general chapter to determine the dress of the novices and postulants. Canon 557 commands the wear-ing of the habit during the whole time of the noviceship, but it has also been maintained that the noviceship is an uncertain time and that the habit, to retain all its significance, should not be given to the novices. Noviceship lot another class. Unless the constitutions determine otherwise, a noviceship made for one class is valid for another (n. 27). The constitutions may de-termine the conditions regulating a transfer from one class to another (n. 27), Novice master. The novices are under the direction of the novice master who may seek the aid of other skilled helpers (n. 30). This is to be kept in mind with regard to a formation team. See also numbers 5, 12, 15, 23, 31, 32. Temporary Bond (nn. 2, 6-9; 34-8) A different temporary bond may be established and ]or all. Number 34 gives a faculty, not a precept, but in general language: "The General Chapter, by a two-thirds majority, may decide to replace temporary vows with some other kind of commitment as, for example, a promise made to the institute." The same general lan-guage is found in numbers 2, 6, 10, 24,' 37-8. The pos-sibility of the extension to all in the probation after the noviceship is not certainly excluded by other num-bers of the Instruction. A dil~erent bond should be introduced only a]ter most careful thought. The reasons are (1) number 34 demands a two-thirds vote of the general chapter to in-troduce a different bond and (2) number 7 explidtly re-quires such careful thought: "No institute should de-cide to use the faculty granted by this Instruction to replace temporary vows by some other form of commit-ment without having clearly perceived and weighed the reasons for and the nature of this change." A different bond in fairness, prudence, and proper regard [or sound spirituality should be introduced only [or those in whom the special immaturity exists. The reasons are (1) by vows a special consecration is had according to number 2: "Thus it is that religious pro-fession is an act of religion ~nd a special consecration whereby a person dedicates himself to God." (2) Be-cause according to number 7 temporary vows are com-pletely in harmony with the greater response to God so important at the beginning of the religious life and also enable the candidate to make the consecration proper to the religious state: "For him who has heeded the call of Jesus to leave everything to follow Him there can be no question of how important it is to respond generously and wholeheartedly to this call £rom the very outset of his religious life; the making of temporary vows is completely in harmony with this requirement. For, while still retaining its probationary character by the fact that it is temporary, the profession of first vows makes the young religious share in the consecration proper to the religious state." (3) Because immaturity is the sole reason given (n. 7) for substituting another temporary commitment: "In fact, more fre-quently now than in the past, a certain number [quidam] of young candidates come to the end of their novitiate without having acquired the religious ma-turity sufficient to bind themselves immediately by re-ligious vows, although no prudent doubt can be raised regarding their generosity or their authentic vocation to the religious state. This hesitancy in pronbuncing vows is frequently accompanied by a great awareness of the exigencies and the importance of the perpetual religious profession to which they aspire and wish to prepare themselves." (4) Possibly also because the desire for the different commitment was true only of some institutes (n. 7): "Thus it has seemed desirable in a certain num-ber o[ institutes that at the end of their noviceship the novices should be able to bind themselves by a temporary commitment different from vows, yet answering their twofold desire to give themselves to God and the institute and to pledge themselves to a fuller preparation for perpetual profession." Since the Instruction describes temporary vows as a consecration that is special, proper to the religious state, and in harmony with the greater ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28. 1969 89! + ÷ .~. Fo Gallen, $J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 89~> response to God, it at least seems unfair, imprudent, and without regard for sound spirituality to deprive a novice of temporary vows when he has all the quali-ties requisite for making them, that is, when he is not affected by the special immaturity described in number 7. ¯ Some observations on this immaturity. Is this im-maturity proper to the young or is it the emotionalism that is today found in many older religious, and which the young often manifest only after continuous contact with such older religious? Isn't there a movement at this moment in the United States to give the vote to those who are eighteen years of age because the young are now more politically mature? In more than thirty states it has been the law that a girl of eighteen may marry without the consent of her parents. Is there any widespread tendency at present to change this very general law because of the immaturity of the ~young? Don't some hold that the greater physical development of modern youth argues to a greater psychological de-velopment? Does one frequently and without indoctri-nation encounter a novice who is judged to have a certain religious vocation (see also c. 571, § 2) but is too immature to take temporary vows? What factual and ob-jective investigations were made in the United States to prove the existence of such immaturity? Isn't it true that such immaturity would occur with regard to the temporary vow of chastity, not of poverty or obedience? Prescinding now from the obligation of the different commitment, don't the commandments of God still bind such a candidate and under serious sin in a violation of chastity? The simplest and most appropriate different com-mitment would be a promise to the institute to observe poverty, chastity, and obedience because (1) neither the form nor the object of the different commitment is determined in the Instruction (see n. 34) but (2) in numbers 7 and 35 the Instruction at least says it is fitting that the dit~erent commitment should in some way refer to the exercise of the three evangelical counsels, for example in number 7: "Whatever form such a temporary commitment may take, it is in keeping, with fidelity to a genuine religious vocation that it should in some way be based on the requirements of the three evangelical counsels." and (3) more directly and even categorically in number 13 the Instruction apparently says that the novice is to make profession of the evangeli-cal counsels at the end of the noviceship by temporary vows or other temporary commitment: ".that a novice.may implement the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience, the profession of which 'either by vows or by other sacred bonds that are like vows in their purpose' he will later make." This number of the Instruction is talking of a novice and therefore o[ the first consecration, which can be either vows or another temporary commitment. There is no alternative for the profession of perpetual vows. Other forms and objects of commitment are possible. The form and object of members in the strict sense of secular institutes is: "By making profession before God of celibacy and perfect chastity, which shall be confirmed by vow, oath, or consecration binding in conscience, according to the constitutions; by a vow or promise of obedience.by a vow or promise of poverty." (Provida Mater Ecclesia, February 2, 1947, Art. III). Some of the different forms of commitments in societies of common life without public vows are annual private vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and the service of the poor; private perpetual vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience; promise of fidelity to the observance of the rule and constitutions; perpetual promise of observ-ance of common life and poverty; perpetual agreement to obey the rule of the institute; perpetual oath of perseverance and obedience; and perpetual oath and promise of perseverance and obedience,x The societies of common life more £requently encountered are the Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul, Eudists, Josephites, Maryknoll Missionaries, Oratorians, Pallot-tine Fathers, Paulists, Precigus Blood Fathers, Sulpicians, Vincentians, and White Fathers. Is one who makes a di1~erent temporary commitment in a state of perfection, in the religious state, a re-ligious, and a member of his institute? This is at least a very basic question and with wide implications. The negative arguments are that the Instruction nowhere says that one who makes a different temporary commit-ment is a religious and that canon 488, 7°, demands public vows to constitute a religious. On the other hand (1) vows are required only by canon law, not by divine law or the nature of the matter,2 to constitute a re-ligious, and the Instruction derogates from this canon law, as will be seen from the following arguments: (2) number 36 states absolutely that the subject is united with his institute and absolutely that he is obliged to observe its law; (3) the Instruction throughout does not differentiate between such a commitment and temporary vows (see nn. 2, 6, 10, 24, 34, 37-8); (4) num-ber 10 states explicitly that the temporary commitment is not the noviceship. If an entirely new state were being 1 See also Beste, lntroductio in Codicem, 497; Guti~rrez, Gora-mentarium pro religiosis, 38 (1959), 312-3. =See Goyeneche, De religiosis, 10-11; Guti~rrez, op.cit., 29 (1050), 72-3. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOU, JME 25, 89~ REV;EW FOR RELIGIOUS introduced distinct from that of the noviceship and temporary vows, this should have been dearly stated in the Instruction. (5) The probationary periods can last for thirteen years. This seems in itself to be un-reasonable if the subject does not become a member of the institute until the end of such time. The professed of temporary vows are members by first profession. The present canon law does not permit a duration of tempo-rary vows longer than six years, and canon 642, § 2, likens a professed of six years of temporary vows to one of perpetual vows. (6) During this prolonged time the institute would not be held in the case of such a subject to the norms of dismissal for professed but could dismiss him almost in the manner of a novice, whereas the pro-fessed of temporary vows would have also a right of sus-pensive recourse against his dismissal. Nor would canon 643, § 2, on the charitable subsidy apply, nor canon 646 on an automatic dismissal. (7) There would be an evident distinction in the rights and obligations of these subjects and the professed of temporary vows even though both would be in the same factual state of proba-tion. It is true, as number 7 states, tl~at "the profesz sion of first vows., makes the candidate share in the consecration proper to the religious state." Such a consecration, however, is required only by canon or human law, which can therefore enact that other suitable forms of commitment would also constitute a candidate in the religious state and make him a re-ligious, as also because such a candidate is always des-tined for this proper consecration in perpetual profes-sion. Religious women are nuns and their institutes are religious orders even though no one in fact has solemn vows provided at least some are destined for solemn vows from the particular law of the institute. Public vows would also remain proper to the religious state and to religious institutes since they are not had either in societies of common life nor in secular institutes. I therefore believe that the subject in a different temporary commitment is in a state of perfection, in the religious state, is a religious, and a member of his institute, but the question should be authoritatively serried by the Holy See. In the contrary opinion, those in a different temporary commitment are in a state that is neither noviceship nor profession, one also for which we have no parallel, and consequently a state of deep obscurity at least juridically. Determination o~ details b) the general chapter (n. 36). In virtue of canon 543 only a higher superior is competent to admit to the noviceship and to any re-ligious profession. The same canon demands a vote of the council or chapter for admission to the novice- ship, first temporary, and perpetual professions. The gen-eral chapter should require the deliberative vote for admission to the first temporary commitment and pre-scribe for renewals and prolongation of. such a com-mitment the same vote as is enacted in the constitutions for these acts with regard to temporary profession. The same policy should be observed concerning the superior competent for permitting an anticipated renewal of the temporary commitment, for exclusion from renewal or from the profession of perpetual vows (c. 637), and for the vote of the council in this case. The superior general with at least the advice of his council should be given the faculty of consenting to the dissolution of the com-mitment by the subject, to so consent to the request of the subject at any time during a commitment, who can then be immediately admitted to temporary vows, and with the consent of his council from the institute. Reception of ment is not necessary because it (c. 1308, § 1), and the consent of to dismiss a subject the different commit-is not a public vow the institute was suf-ficiently given and expressed in the admission to the commitment or its renewal. The general chapter could prescribe reception since such a repeated consent of the institute is not contrary to common law. The formula of the vows will have to be changed for a different commitment, for example, a promise will be to the institute, not to God as is a vow. Even if the new com-mitment does not have obedience as its express object and is therefore not productive of another obligation of obedience, superiors, as the head of the institute or of its parts, possess at least the same authority that they have over a novice and, if the Holy See decides that a different commitment is on the same juridical level as temporary vows, they possess the same authority as over a professed but without the added title to exact obedi-ence from the vow (c. 501, § 1; 502). Ganons whose application is obscure. The applica-tion of the following canons to those in a different temporary commitment should also be decided by the Holy See: responsibility for debts, 536, §§ 2-3; canonical examination, 552; dowry, 547-51; making of cession and disposition regarding personal patrimony and a civilly valid will, 569; retreat before first profession, 571, § 3; profession of a novice in danger of death. Requisites for a valid profession, exclusive of recep-tion, the necessity of three years of temporary vows, and understanding the derogations regarding a valid novice-ship in the Instruction, 572; age for profession, 573; deliberative vote for first profession, 575, § 2; written declaration of profession, 576, § 2; no intervals between renewals or perpetual profession, 577, § 1; 575, § 1; ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 895 ~. F. Gallen, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 896 enjoyment of the same indulgences, privileges, spiritual favors, and suffrages, obligation of observing rules and constitutions, active and passive voice and computation of time for obtaining either, 578; illiceity and invalidity of acts contrary to the vows, 579. Acquisition of property by a professed of simple vows, change of cession and disposition, 580; renuncia-tion of personal patrimony, 581; 583, 1°; change of will, 583; 2°. Common obligations of clerics in canons 124-42, 592; obligation of common life, 594; obligation of wear-ing habit, 596; cloister, 597 ft.; religious duties, 595; right of exempt correspondence, 611; enjoyment of privileges of first order by nuns, 613, § 2; enjoyment of clerical privileges of canons 119-23, 614. Transfer to another religious institute or monastery, 632-5; 544, § 5; right of professed of temporary vows to leave at the end of a temporary profession, 637; ex-claustration, 638-9; effects of secularization, 640-3; compensation may not be sought for services given to the institute, 643, § 1; charitable subsidy, 643, § 2; laws on fugitives, 644, § 3; 645; 2386; automatic dismissal, 646; dismissal of a professed of temporary vows, 647-8; provisional return to secular life, 653. Six professed constitute a formal house, 488, 5°; precedence from first profession breaking a tie in elec-tions, 101, § 1, 1°; first profession as date of computing eligibility for office, 504; 559, §§ 1-2; prohibition of being members of third orders secular, 704; prohibi-tion of being a sponsor in baptism and confirmation, 766, 4°; 796, 3°; special jurisdiction necegsary for the confessions of religious women, 876; funerals of religious, 1221; 1124, 2°; permission for writings, 1386, § 1; punish-able for violations of common life, 2389. Obligation o[ observing the evangelical counsels. If the Holy See decides that a different temporary com-mitment is on the same juridical level as the profession of temporary vows, the evangelical counsels must be observed at least with the same obligation as the con-stitutions, no matter what be the object of the different temporary commitment because (1) not only does num-ber 36 impose after the new commitment "the obliga-tion of observing the Rule, constitutions and other regulations of the institute" and therefore a fortiori also the obligation of observing the evangelical coun-sels as more essential and important for a state of complete Christian perfection but also and more pro-foundly because (2) the observance of the evangelical counsels is necessary from the nature of a state of per-fection, as can be seen from the following direct and clear statements of only three Popes and Vatican II: "The religious orders, as everyone knows, have their origin and raison d'etre in those sublime evangelical counsels, of which our divine Redeemer spoke, for the course of all time, to those who desire to attain Christian perfection" (Leo XIII, December 23, 1900). "When the only-begotten Son of God came into the world to re-deem the human race, he gave the precepts of spiritual life by which all men were to be directed to their appointed end; in addition, he taught that all those who wished to follow more closely in His footsteps should embrace and follow the evangelical counsels" (Pius XI, March 19, 1924). "It is true that by the apostolic constitution Provida Mater Ecclesia we declared that the form of life, which is followed by secular institutes, is also to be accepted as a state of perfection publicly recognized, because the members are bound in some way to the observance of the evangelical counsels" (Pius XII, July 13, 1952).3 Vatican II affirmed: "Thus, although the religious state constituted by the profession of the evangelical counsels does not belong to the hierarchical structure of the Church, nevertheless it belongs in-separably to her life and holiness." 4 Moral obligation of a new temporary commitment. It might seem that a general chapter could also completely determine this (see n. 36), but number 34 gives a promise to the institute as an example of such a com-mitment. We are to presume words in such a document are being used in their proper sense, and in such a sense a promise produces a moral obligation. In a merely private promise to God or man, the one making the promise can oblige himself only to a light obliga-tion in light matter but in serious matter he can assume either a light or a grave obligation. May a general chapter, therefore, define the moral obligation of the new temporary commitment, for example, a promise to the institute, as only light? It could do so if it is decided by the Holy See that such a commitment is not on the same juridical level as temporary vows. Could it do so if the level is the same? Such a definition is not excluded by the nature of a commitment or promise purely in itself nor by the explicit wording of the Instruction. The light obligation can also be urged from the reason for permitting a different commitment, that is, the immaturity of a candidate. It would not 8Courtois, The States of Perfection, Dublin: 1961, M. H. Gill and Son, nn. 33, 130, 403, 474; see also Schaefer, De religiosis, n. 125; Beste, op.cit., 328; Padri Claretdani, II diritto dei religiosi, n. 3; Fanfani, II diritto delle religiose, n. 2; Bastien, Directoire canonique, nn. 9, 14; Creusen, Religious Men and Women in Church Law, nn. 4-5; Guti~rrez, ibid., 63-4, 67. ' Abbott-Gallagher, The Document~ of Vatican II, 75. 4" 4" 4" Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 89~ ]. F. Gallen, $.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS seem very practical to enact that such a candidate does not have to take the added serious obligation of a re-ligious vow if he must assume the added serious obli-gation of another form of commitment. On the opposite side it can be well maintained from the nature of the matter that it would be incongruous for the funda-mental obligations of a permanent state of life to be only light. Above all there is a reply given by the Sacred Congregation of Religious, May 19, 1949, in an entirely parallel case and in general language to the effect that the bonds assumed by the members of secular insti-tutes cannot be light in their general nature.~ The pur-pose and nature of secular institutes are given as the reason for this doctrine. A secular institute is an apos-tolic state of complete Christian perfection, and the reasoning of the Sacred Congregation appears to me to apply, at least equally, if not afortiori, to religious in-stitutes. In effect this would mean, in the promise we have advocated to the institute to observe poverty, chastity, and obedience, the same light or serious obliga-tion that is had in the religious vows. The document reads: 1. The obligations which are contracted by members in the strict sense (Art. III, §§ £ and 3) for the full pursuit of the juridical state of perfection in secular institutes (Art. III, § 2), if they are to correspond to the purpose and nature of the institute, cannot be light in their general nature and under every respect (ex genere suo atque ex omni parte). 2. On the other hand, the bonds on which this state of perfection rests, are considered so to oblige in conscience that the obligations thus produced must be called grave in their general nature (ex genere suo). 3. In individual cases, an obligation must be considered grave only when its matter must be considered as certainly grave according to the constitutions and the common teaching regarding equal or similar bonds. Moreov,er, according to the well-known rule of law (Reg. 30 in VI°), 'In obscure matters, one is obliged to Iollow only the least obligation," it cannot be affirmed in a doubtful case that an obligation is grave or more grave, for example, on the ground that an obligation arises from or is reinforced by the formal virtue of religion. 4. Just what is the nature of the bonds assumed in individual institutes and what is the precise mode of obligation---e.g., in addition to justice and fidelity, is there also and, if so, to what degree, an obligation from the virtue of religion--must be learned from the constitutions, which should give an accurate presentation of the matter, and from the formula of consecra-tion or incorporation in which the bonds are expressed. 5. Even when it is certain that there is a formal obligation arising from the virtue of religion, since there is question of vows or bonds which, although they are not fully private, nevertheless, in law, cannot be called public in the strict and specific sense and do not effect a public consecration of the' "Bouscaren-O'Connor, Canon Law Digest /or Religious, 167-8; see also Commentarium pro religiosis, 28 (1949): Larraona, 199-200; Fuertes, 292-8. person, the malice of sacrilege must not be attributed to their violation. Duration oI probation after the noviceship. The gen-eral chapter is to determine this but it is to be no less than three nor longer than nine years (n. 37). I find it difficult to see why a period longer than five years should be generally prescribed (n. 6). The total possible probationary period, that is, 2 years of postulancy, 2 of noviceship, and 9 of temporary commitment, can thus be 13 years. This would ordinarily mean perpetual profes-sion at the youngest only at the age of 30 or 31 years. Would we advise marriage only at 30 or 317 The gen-eral chapter may permit a prolongation in individual cases of a prescribed time, e.g., five years, up to the full nine years or may limit the power of prolonging, e.g., to only one year (n. 37). Precise length of dil~erent commitment. This may be made in the one act for the full length of the interval before perpetual profession, for example, five years; or for a briefer period, for example, three years, to be re-newed for two years on its expiration or to be followed by temporary vows (n. 34). The provision of canon 577, § 2, of permitting a renewal of temporary vows to be an-ticipated but not by more than a month may be also applied to the renewal of a different form of temporary commitment. Such an anticipation is permissible £rom the nature of a commitment and is not excluded by the Instruction. Must also a di~erent temporary commitment be ac-companied by the intention of renewing and of admit-ting to a renewal on its expiration? If the decision of the Holy See is that the juridical level of temporary vows and other temporary commitments is the same, the answer is in the affirmative. The explanation of the necessity of this intention in temporary vows has been the following. The religious life has ever and now de-mands stability or permanence. From its concept it is a state of life in the same way as the clerical or married state. A state of life is something that contains the note of stability or permanence. The exact permanence re-quired is defined by the Church as follows: solemn vows or simple perpetual vows are sufficient but not neces-sary; the minimum requisite is simple temporary vows. Therefore, an institute in which all the members make only annual professions of poverty, chastity, and obedi-ence fulfills this requisite. The Church further requires that temporary vows be renewed on their expiration (c. 488, 1°). This implies an intention on the part of both the religious making temporary profession and the superior admitting to this profession that, iI no obstacle ÷ ÷ ÷ Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 899 ]. F. Gallery, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 900 occurs in the meantime, the vows will be renewed on their expiration. It is evident that the same necessity of this intention and its explanation apply to a different temporary commitment since the necessity of the inten-tion is required not from vows as such but from the fact that the religious state is 'a state of life and demands stability.6 Lastly, such an intention is required in secular institutes, in which the bond can be vow, oath, consecra-tion, or promise: "The bond by which the secular insti-tute and its members in the strict sense are to be united must be: 1o Stable, according to the constitutions, either perpetual or temporary but to be renewed at its expira-tion (c. 488, 1°) . ,, 7 ConIusion on temporary vows. Tkis is the appropriate place to mention the extensive confusion that has existed on temporary vows in this whole matter of a different commitment. Many talked as if a temporary vow were a most unusual and even a contradictory thing. Evidently they did not know that temporary vows were mentioned in canon law (c. 131.1) as also in practically any manual of moral theology and in canonical works that included the treatment of the vows. It was also frequently stated that the intention of renewing and of admitting to renewal on their expiration was a contra-diction of the temporary duration of such vows. This again was ignorance. The intention was not and could not have been absolute, which would have been clearly contrary to the probationary nature of the period of temporary vows. It was a conditional intention to renew the vows i[ no obstacle intervened in the meantime, S and this obstacle, if not always, would practically always have been the discovery by the institute or the subject that he or she had no vocation. There was almost an equal number of statements that a temporary profession was invalid if at the time a religious had the intention of not renewing or a superior of not admitting to a renewal on the expiration of a temporary profession. Canon 572 does not list such an intention among the requisites for a valid religious profession. Canon 488, 1°, does not append an invalidating clause to the necessity of this intention as required by canon 11. A requirement for liceity only will also sufficiently fulfill the required stability. An invalidating law according to canon 15 does not exist in a doubt of law, and there is certainly a doubt o See Larraona, op. cit., 2 (1921), 137, 209; 28 (1949), 205; Schaefer, op.ciL, n. 128; Jone, Commentarium in Codicem iuris canonici, I, 387; Padri Clarettiani, op.cit., nn. 3, 6; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome iuris canonici, I, n. 580; Goyeneche, op.cit., 9-10; De Carlo, Jus religiosorum, n. 2. ~ Provida Mater Ecclesia, Bouscaren-O'Connor, op.cit., 151. aSee Larraona, op.cit.o 2 (1921), 209 and note 81; 28 (1949)~ 205; Guti~rrez, ibid., 90. of law in the present caseP There was also a great deal of talk merely about promises, as if a vow were not a promise. Nor was there too much knowledge of sanctity of life and of the relation of the evangelical counsels and of vows to this sanctity. Sacred orders may not be conferred belore perpetual profession (n. 37; c. 964, 4°). For a just reason a higher superior may permit that a first profession be made outside the novitiate house (n. 20). The Instruction does not mention the commitment presumably because it is held that the prescription on place of canon 574, §1 applies only to vows. Readmission of one who legitimately left either after completing temporary vows or other commitment or a[ter being [reed from either. He may be readmitted by the superior general with the consent of his council, who is not obliged to prescribe another noviceship, nor an-other postulancy (c. 640, § 2), but is obliged to enjoin a previous period of probation and also a period of tem-porary vows or other commitment not less than a year nor less than the time that remained to be spent in this temporary probation before perpetual profession when the subject left. The superior general may prescribe a longer period of temporary vows or other commitment (n. 38). Immediate preparation for perpetual proIession and similar periods during tbmporary vows or other commit-ment. It is desirable that perpetual profession should be preceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation something in the manner of a second noviceship. The duration and other aspects are to be determined by the general chapter (nn. 9, 35). It is also desirable that periods of withdrawing to prayer, meditation, and study be established during the time of temporary vows or other commitment (n. 25). Section IlL Application of the special norms. The par-ticular provisions axe called norms because they have been enacted for experimentation (VII). They are in effect from January 6, 1969 (VII). The norms and direc-tives of the Instruction appertain only to religious in-stitutes; other institutes of common life may but are not obliged to follow them (n. 3). Common law (canon law, laws enacted after the Code of Canon Law, laws of Vatican II, and postconciliar laws) remains in effect un-less derogated by this Instruction (I). The faculties granted by this Instruction may in no way be delegated g See Schaefer, op.cit., n. 128; Jone, op.cit., 387; Guti~rrez, ibid., note 65; Vermeersch, Periodica, 31 (1932), 122 ft.; Goyeneche, Corn. mentarium tyro religiosis, 16 (1935), 315-6; Vidal, De religiosis, n. 9, holds for invalidity. 4- 4- ÷ VOLUME 901 ~. F. Gallen, $.]. 902 to another (II), but they may be used by those who legiti-mately take the place of the superior general when there is no superior general or he is legitimately prevented from acting (IV). The same principle is true of the vicars of other higher superiors since they are actually exercising the office of the higher superior when accord-ing to the constitutions they take the place of a higher superior, such as a provincial, in the vacancy of the office, in his absence, or when he is otherwise impeded from fulfilling the duties of his office. There is nothing of such importance in the faculties granted in the Instruc-tion to higher superiors that would merit the exclusion of vicars from the exercise of such faculties. An abbot at the head of a monastic congregation is also to be understood under the name of superior general in this Instruction (III). In the case of nuns dedicated exclu-sively to the contemplative life, special norms shall be inserted into the constitutions and submitted for ap-proval, but the norms in numbers 22, 26-7 may be ap-plied to them (V). I[ the special general chapter has already been held, the superior general and his council acting collegially,x° after a careful study of all circumstances, are to decide whether a general chapter should be convoked to deliber-ate on the faculties granted to it or whether it would be preferable to await the next general chapter (VI). If they decide against the above convocation but also that the use of the faculties granted to the general chapter is urgent for the good of the institute, they, again acting collegially, have the power of putting all or some of the same faculties in use until the next gen-eral chapter provided they have previously consulted all other higher superiors and their councils and have ob-tained their two-thirds affirmative vote. These other higher superiors should have it at heart to consult previ-ously the professed of perpetual vows. In institutes with no provinces, the superior general must consult the l~rofessed of perpetual vows and obtain the affirmative vote of two-thirds OgI). The following appertain to the general chapter: with a two-thirds vote: to introduce periods of formative ac-tivity in the noviceship (n. 23) and a different tempo-rary commitment (n. 34); with the vote prescribed by the constitutions: to make determinations for the pos-tulancy (n. 12); to decide on the permissible contacts of the novices (n. 28); to permit or command studies during the noviceship (n. 29); to determine the dress of the novices and other candidates (n. 33); to determine the duration of the probation between the noviceship See REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 19 (1960), 131-2. and perpetual profession and other aspects of the same probation (nn. 35-6-7); and experimentally to enact other matters that imply a change in the constitutions, for example, in numbers 16, 22, and 27. The following appertain to the superior general: with the consent of his council: the institution of a novitiate (n. 16) and of many novitiates in the same province, having consulted the interested provincial (n. 17); the making of the noviceship in a house that is not a noviti-ate house (n. 19); the readmission of one who legiti-mately left either after completing temporary vows or other commitment or after being freed from either (n. 38); alone: to permit the group of novices to reside for a time in another house designated by him (n. 16); to per-mit a small group of novices to make their noviceship in a house more suitable for community life (n. 18); with the council acting collegially: to decide on the calling of a general chapter to implement the Instruction or to permit, without a general chapter, the use of the facul-ties granted in the Instruction, after consulting all other higher superiors and their councils and having obtained the affirmative vote of two-thirds of them or of the pro-fessed of perpetual vows when the institute does not have provinces (VI). The following appertain to higher superiors: alone: to permit first profession outside the novitiate house (n: 20); to permit that first profession be anticipated but not beyond fifteen days (n. 26); after consulting the master of novices: to decide on a supplying of absence of a novice of less than three months (n. 22); and it is rec-ommended that higher superiors below the superior general previously consult the professed of perpetual vows on the use of faculties of the Instruction without having a general chapter (VI). Spiritual principles of the Instruction. In the intro-duction to the Instruction, the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes stated that the reason Vatican II gave no small measure of attention to reli-gious was that the Church might have a greater abun-dance of spiritual strength and be better prepared to proclaim the message of salvation to the men of our age; quoted Lumen gentium, numbers 44-5, to the effect that the state of the evangelical counsels appertains to the sanctity of the Church and that the practice of these counsels is uniquely effective for the perfection of the love of God and of the neighbor; spoke of the duty of religious institutes to renew their spiritual, evangelical, and apostolic lives; recalled that no loss was to be per-mitted in the basic values of the religious life; and de-clared the necessity of defining again the principal as-pects of this life. Formation VO'LUME 28, 1969 9O3 I. F. Ga//en,~$.l. REVIEW FOR REI.~G~OU$ 90; In the first section, which treats of principles and criteria, the Sacred Congregation reaffirmed that pro-fession of the evangelical counsels is a total consecration of one's person to God; that both from the teaching of the Church and the nature of this consecration the vow of obedience appertains to the essence of religious pro-fession; that by this consecration the religious exercises the perfection of apostolic charity, even though the apostolate is not the primary purpose of religious pro-fession; and that it may not be said that the nature of religious profession is to be changed or its proper de-mands lessened. The Sacred Congregation stated that the noviceship retains its irreplaceable role in formation; that novices are to be taught the cohesive unity that should link contemplation and apostolic activity; and that this unity is one of the fundamental and primary values of apostolic institutes. The achievement of this unity requires a~proper un-derstanding of the realities of the supernatural life and of the paths leading to a deepening of union with God in the unity of the one supernatural love for God and for man, finding expression at times in the solitude of inti-mate communing with the Lord and at others in the generous giving of self to apostolic activity. Young reli-gious must be taught that this unity, so eagerly sought and toward which all life tends in order to find its full development, cannot be attained on the level of activity alone, or even be psychologically experienced, for it resides in that divine love which is the bond of perfec-tion and which surpasses all understanding. The attainment of this unity, which cannot be achieved without long exercise of self-denial or without persevering efforts toward purity of intention in action, demands in those institutes faithful compliance with the law inherent in the spiritual life itself, which con-sists in arranging a proper balance of periods set aside for solitude with God and others devoted to various activities and to the human contacts which these in-volve (n. 5). The Sacred Congregation maintained that suitable maturity was required that the religious state be a means of perfection and not a burden too heavy to carry, as also the desirability that the perpetual con-secration to God of perpetual vows be preceded by a sufficiently long immediate preparation spent in recol-lection and prayer that could be like a second novice-ship. The second section of the Instruction is on special or particular norms and contains the following spiritual ideas and principles. The novices are to develop that union with Christ which is to be the source of all their apostolic activity; conformably to the teaching of our Lord in the gospel, the formation of the noviceship con-sists especially in initiating the novices gradually into detachment from everything not connected with the kingdom of God; that they learn to practice humility, obedience, poverty, to be instant in prayer, to maintain union with God, along with a soul receptive to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit, and to be mutually and spiritually helpful to one another in a sincere and un-feigned charity; they are to study and meditate on Holy Scripture; to be formed in the spiritual doctrine and practice required for the development of a supernatural life, union with God, and the understanding of the re-ligious state; they are to be initiated into the liturgical life and the spiritual discipline proper to their own in-stitute; they are to be given the occasions for striving to preserve faithful union with God in the active life; for the novices there is to be a balancing of periods of ac-tivity and of those given to recollection in prayer, medi-tation, and study to stimulate them to remain faithful to it throughout life, and a similar balancing is desirable during the years of formation before perpetual profes-sion. The Instruction reaffirmed the principle of the spiritual life and of Perfectae caritatis, number 8, that apostolic activity must have its source in intimate union with Christ and that therefore all the members should seek God only and above all, and unite contemplation by which they adhere to Him in mind and heart with apostolic love, in which they are associated with the work of redemption and strive to spread the kingdom of God; that novices are likewise to be formed in purity of intention and love for God and man; to learn to use this world as if they did not use it; realize that devotion to God and man demands a humble control of self; culti-vate the necessary human and spiritual balancing of the times given to the apostolate and the service of men and of the properly prolonged periods, in solitude or in com-munity, dedicated to prayer and to the meditative read-ing of the Sacred Scriptures. By fidelity to this most necessary and important program in all such institutes, the novices will gradually develop a peaceful union with God, which comes from conformity to the will of God. They must learn to discern the divine inspirations in the duties of their state, especially those of justice and charity. A mutual confidence, docility, and openness are to be fostered between superiors, the master of novices, and the novices that the master may be able to direct the generosity of the novices to a complete gift of themselves to God and lead them gradually to discern in the mys-tery of Christ crucified the demands of true religious + + + Formation VOLUME 28, 1969 905 obedience, and in this manner inspire them to an active and responsible obedience. The Instruction affirms with sufficient emphasis that the religious s~ate is different from secular institutes and from the state of the laity. ~. F. Gall~, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER MARY PATRICIA NORTON A New Form Community oJ Religious Government The custom that has been traditionally followed in women's religious communities of focusing all authority, responsibility, and decision-making in one person at the local, regional, and generalate level has, we believe, been a custom that grew up as a result of historical circumstances. When some of the original women's re-ligious communities were founded, there was a com-paratively small number of the members that were well educated. There has, of course, always been a local, regional, and general council to assist and advise the superior; but in actual practice the superior has gen-erally led an overburdened existence, weighed down by the responsibility of major decisions. Since the founding of the early communities, the pic-ture has changed dramatically. The rank and file sisters are no longer uneducated followers. Vatican Council II has told us that the Holy Spirit breathes up ~rom below, that is, He speaks and points out the way through the person of each and every member of the community. In the summer of 1967, the 48 Maryknoll Sisters working in Korea, considering the problems of the past, the directions of the future, and the urgings of Vatican Council II (that "all members of the community have a share in the welfare of the whole community and a responsibility for it"--~om the Decree on Ap-propriate Renewal o[ Religious Life, n. 14), began to draw up a new plan for regional government. This plan was to provide for sharing more broadly the burdens of responsibility, participation of every member in the decision-making and planning of community affairs, and to foster in each member a mature spirit of initiative and involvement. The experiment is at present under way with three elected members now jointly sharing the responsibilities that had previously belonged to the regional superior. 4, 4, Siste~ Patricia Norton is missioned at the Maryknoll Hospital; P.O. Box 77; Pusan, Korea. VOLUME 28, 1969 907 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU$ (Note: The work of the Maryknoll Sisters in Korea is designated as a regional unit.) No one of these is superior to the others in authority or responsibility. Each one is responsible in the area that has been allotted to her: Personnel, Administration-finance, and Planning-research respectively. These three sisters are known as the Regional Team. Although each one has her area of responsibility, she does not bear this burden alone. Each of these team members has a corresponding committee of 4 regular members and one alternate member. Each committee meets once a month and the results of these meetings constitute the agenda for the meeting of the Regional Team (the three team leaders). The Regional Team also aims at meeting monthly as high priority has been placed on the value of close and frequent communications. It is felt that real participation of each and every mem-ber of the region is dependent on the thoroughness of these communications. In addition to the monthly meetings of both team and committees, good communications are fostered by availa-bility of the minutes of the Regional Team, of each of the three committees, and the publication of the agenda before each meeting. With the publishing of the agenda, each sister is invited to respond with her ideas, sugges-tions, objections, and so forth to any item on the agenda. This is one technique to insure participation by every individual. Furthermore, all those sisters who are neither mem-bers of the team nor of one of the committees become members of an interest area. The latter means that the sister has indicated her interest in one of the areas, follows the activities of that committee in par-ticular, and is ready at any time to fully participate. The Maryknoll Sisters are divided among six houses in Korea. In the event that one of these houses does not have a particular committee member, one of the in-terest area members acts as contact person for that house. Planning for this experiment began in early Fall of 1967. It was formally inaugurated at a regionwide work-shop in October of that year. Since that time it has undergone several evaluations resulting in both minor and major changes. What so far have been the advantages and disad-vantages in regard to this experiment? Some of the disadvantages: ---outsiders who have contacts with the Maryknoll Sisters do not understand it; --it is expensive (train travel and postage) and time consuming; ---it deprives the other sisters of that leisure they used to have while the superior did all the work. Some of the advantages: --it takes the heavy, burden from the shoulders of one person and spreads it" out over the shoulders of all; --it provides for the utilization of the ideas, inspira-tions, and talents of each person rather than just two or three; --it provides for decisions to be made at the level at which they are carried out; --it helps to uncover and develop leadership qualities in a wider spectrum O[ persons; ---it allows for a more truly Christian li[e [or each sister as a completely participating person, con-scious of her own role of responsibility for the success or failure of Maryknoll works in Korea; ---it cuts down dissatisfaction and provides a channel for rectifying any dissatis[actions that may occur. The comment was made by one observer: "It deprives the religious of that necessary sacrifice involved in obedience to a superior." Those who have been living ¯ this experiment would strongly differ. Obedience is not a vanished thing. It is merely the focus that has changed. Decisions are made through group-to-group or individ-ual- to-group dialogue and the individual remains open and ready to obey the results of this dialogue. It is now two years since the initial idea for this type of government was discussed. Since that time there have been many pros and cons, many wrinkles to be ironed out. It has been said by informed sources that such an arrangement Without ultimate responsibility resting in one person can never be a success. The Maryknoll Sisters are willing to concede that this may be true. But they are not willing to concede without an earnest trial. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 28, 1969 9O9 WILLIAM A. HINNEBUSCH, O.P. Origins and Development oJ Religious Orders William A. Hin-nebusch, O.P., teaches ecclesiastical history at the Do-minican House of Studies; 487 Michi-gan Avenue, Waahington, D.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 910 An# attentive study of the origins and history of reli-gious orders reveals that there are two primary currents in religious life--contemplative and apostolic. Vatican II gave clear expression to this fact when it called on the members of every community to "combine contem-plation with apostolic love." It went on to say: "By the former they adhere to God in mind and heart; by the latter they strive to associate themselves with the work of redemption and to spread the Kingdom of God" (PC, 5). The orders1 founded before the 16th century, with the possible exception of the military orders, recognized clearly the contemplative element in their lives. Many of them, however, gave minimum recognition to the apos-tolic element, if we use the word "apostolic" in its pres-ent- day meaning, but not if we understand it as they did. In their thinking, the religious life was the Apos-tolic life. It reproduced and perpetuated the way of living learned by the Apostles from Christ and taught by them to the primitive Church of Jerusalem. Since it was lived by the "Twelve," the Apostolic life included preaching and the other works of the ministry. The pas-sage describing the choice of the seven deacons in the Acts of the Apostles clearly delineates the double ele-ment in the Apostolic life and underlines the contem-plative spirit of the Apostles. The deacons were to wait on tables; the Apostles were to be free to devote them-selves "to prayer and the ministry of the word" (Acts 6:~4~). ¯ This is the text of an address given to the annual meeting of United States major superiors of men religious held in June, 1968, at Mundelein, Illinois. x I use the words, "order," "monasticism," and their derivatives in a wide sense to include all forms of the religious life. In its strict sense "monasticism" applies only to the monks and does not extend to the friars and the clerks regular. There were, however, exceptions to the general rule that monks did not engage in the ministry. An Eastern current of monasticism, influenced by John Chrysostom, viewed missionary work as a legitimate activity of the monk; and, as we shall see, many Western monks shared this conviction. Nevertheless, missionary activity did not become an integral part of monasticism. Even after most monks became priests, they considered their vocation to lie within the monastery where they could contemplate and dedicate themselves to the service of God. Since the clergy did not embrace the religious life, with the ex-ception of those of Eusebius of Vercelli and Augustine of Hippo, the ministerial element remained generally absent from the religious life until the development of the canons regular. In itself the life of the monks was exclusively contemplative. "Tradition assigns no other end to the life of a monk than to 'seek God' or 'to live for God alone,' an ideal that can be attained only by life of penance and .prayer. The first and fundamental manifestation of such a vocation is a real separation from the world." Yet in the thinking of the monks and of the friars, who integrated apostolic activity into the religious life, their prayer, contemplation, and example were mighty forces working for the upbuilding of the Body of Christ. Foundation o[ Monasticism Though other Scriptural elements contributed to the origin of monasticism, the concept of the Apostolic life was the decisive force. This truth has been demon-strated by historians who have been studying this point for over half a century; it has recently been dis-cussed scripturally by Heinz Schiirmann, professor of New Testament exegesis at Erfurt. The historians show how the life of the Apostles and the primitive Christians influenced the origins and growth of monasticism; Schiirmann makes clear that the constitutive elements of the religious life were taught to and demanded of the Apostles by Christ. Religious life is rooted in the key Biblical texts that record the calling and formation of the Apostles. These passages determine the character of the Apostolic office and the relationship of the Apostles to Jesus. They are to be with Him, listen to Him, and follow Him. His call is rigorous and imperious. He demands commitment without reserve. Negatively, this requires a complete break with one's previous life: family, wife, home, and oc-cupation; positively, it establishes the Apostles in a state of total availability. Abandoning their possessions, their means of livelihood and, like the lily and raven, trusting completely in divine providence, they follow Christ, + ÷ ÷ Religious Orders VOLUME 28, 1969 9]] W. A. Hinnebusch, 0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 912 putting themselves in a student-teacher, servant-master relationship to Him. All .the features of their new life with Him are already conveyed in brief in Mark's ac-count of their call: And going up a mountain, he called to him men of his own choosing, and they came to him. And he appointed twelve that they might be with him and that he might send them forth to preach (3:13-5). In this text, too, we find the first s~atement of the contemplative and apostolic elements that reappear in the religious life. They are "to be with him." Here is the contemplative element. They are "with him," devoting themselves to the "one thing necessary"--listening to His word. Yet in hearing and learning .they are made ready so "that he might send them forth to preach." As Schiirmann summarizes it: First they hear and learn, then they teach and act: "Preaching isonly one part of their life and its follows from the other." The Apostles enter irrevocably into a community of life with Jesus. They share His life and destiny: eat with Him, walk the dusty roads with Him, serve the people with Him, undergo His trials, conflicts, persecu-tions. They must be ready to hate and even to lose their lives for His sake. He wants total obedience, one based on their "faith in Him who calls and proposes the word of God in an entirely unique fashion. Their following of Christ becomes understandable only as a permanent state of profession of faith., fit] opens up a new pos-sibility of existence, a new manner of being-in-the-world, a new 'state' of life." Though the Apostles take no vows, their life is that of the three counsels. Christ imposes no greater moral de-mands on them than on all the other believers, but they alone live this close community life with Him. Not all who declare for Christ are chosen by Him to follow Him in this intimate, permanent way. Obviously Mary, Martha, and Lazarus do not. Others asked to be ad-mitted into the group of disciples but were not accepted. Mark (5:18-19) describes one case: As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been afflicted by the devil began to entreat him that he might re-main with him. And he did not allow him, but said to him, "Go home to thy relatives, and tell them all that the Lord has done for thee, and how he has had mercy on thee." (See also Mt 11:28, Mk 3:35, Lk 12:8-9, 10:38-42, 9:61-2.) Being with Christ constantly, hearing His word, com-pletely obedient to His wishes, separated from family, home, and occupation, the Apostles enter a new form of existence that signifies. The prime purpose of their spe-cialized following is to declare themselves openly for Him, so that all might come to believe in Him. In a strikingly visible way their intimate following pro-claims to the Jewish world that the one thing necessary is to hear the word of Christ and to keep it. Their visi-ble, stable following becomes a sign to the world. Only after they have made this permanent commitment are they sent out to preach and to act. At every step in monastic history, whether in its ori-gins, renewals, or creation of new forms, the Apostolic life taught by Christ to the Twelve, and by them to the primitive Christian community of Jerusalem, was the leading and most powerful influence. The Gospel texts and those in the Acts of the Apostles that describe the primitive community were decisive in creating the con-cept of monasticism and in fashioning its life and usages. In the Jerusalem community we find fraternal unanim-ity, common ownership of possessions, fidelity to the teachings of Christ, common public prayer, intense pri-vate prayer. The following passages embody all these features: Now the multitude of the believers were of one heart and soul, and not one of them said anything he possessed was his own, but they had all things in common (Acts 4:32). And they continued steadfastly in the teaching of the apostles, and in the communion of the breaking of bread and in the prayers. And all who believed were together and held all things in common. And continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread in. their houses, they took their food with gladness and simplicity of heart, praising God and being in favor with all people (Acts 2:42-7; see also 1:14, 3:1, 6:4,34; Mt 10:gff). The ministry of the word, evangelical preaching of salvation, was c~irried out by the Apostles (Mk 6:6-13; Acts 6:4), a mission that entailed indefatigable journey-ing (Mt 10:7if; Mk 6:6-13; Acts 6:4). Only the pre-dominately lay character of early monasticism delayed the full realization of the ministerial mendicant orders. For centuries monks examined and lovingly scruti-nized the texts. The power that they exercised over monastic founders is illustrated by the passage where Athanasius describes the origin of Antony's vocation in his Life of Antony: As he was walking along on his way to Church, he col-lected his thoughts and reflected how the Apostles left every-thing and followed the Savior; also how the people in Acts sold what they had and laid it at the feet of the Apostles for distribution among the needy; and what great hope is laid up in Heaven for such as these. With these thoughts in his mind he entered the church. And it so happened that the Gospel was being read at that moment and he heard the passage in which the Lord says to the rich man: "If thou wilt be perfect, ¯ go sell all that thou hast, and give it to the poor; and come, follow me and thou shalt have treasures in heaven," 4- 4- Religious Orders VOLUME 28~ 1969 W. A. Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS As though God had been speaking directly to him, An-tony left the church, sold what he had, gave it to the poor, and went into the desert. During subsequent centuries the Scriptures lost none of their influence over monasticism. The Apostolic texts led to much more than the abandonment of riches and fleeing the world; they provided a complete program of life in community. Explaining the origins of monasti-cism about 1122 A.D., Abbot William of Saint-Thierry shows how the meditation of hundreds of years had sys-tematized the Scriptural influence: We come to this spiritual sbciety of which the Apostle Paul spoke to the Philippians (2:1-5; 3:17) in praise of the regular discipline and of the sublime joy of brothers living together in unanimity. To do justice to this discipline it is necessary to return to its beginning in the time of the Apostles, since it was the Apostles themselves who instituted it as their own way of life, according to the teaching of the Lord. Unless it was the grace of the Holy Spirit which gave them power from above to live together in such a way that all would have but one heart and one soul, so that everything would be held in common, and all would be continually in the temple in a spirit of harmony. Animated by a great !ove for this form of life instituted by the Apostles, certain men wished no longer to have any other house or any other lodging than the hbuse of God, the house of prayer. All that they did they did according to a common program, under a common rule. In the name of the Lord they lived together, possessing nothing of their own, not even their bodily strength, nor were they even masters of their own will. They lay down to sleep at the same time, they rose up together, they prayed, they sang Psalms, they studied together. They showed the fixed and changeless will of being obedient to their superiors and of being entirely submissive to them. They kept their needs to a minimum and lived with very little; they had poor clothes, a mean diet, and limited everything according to a very precise rule. Influence o[ Cassian Soon after Antony went into the desert, the influence of the Scriptures on monastic origins was enhanced by a misconception of Eusebius and Jerome, who mistakenly believed that the Apostolic life of the primitive Jerusa-lem community was followed in Alexandria, Rome, and other centers. Writing a century later, Cassian developed this misconception and found in it th~ explanation of the rise of monasticism: The conversion of the Gentiles forced an abandonment of the Apostolic way by the ma-jority of Christians, even by the clergy. More zealous souls refused to give it up and founded communities to perpetuate it. This theory was very fruitful in its effects when it was coupled with the example of Antony and Pachomius, the founder of the cenobitic life, who were inspired by the Scriptures alone. This fusion constituted a powerful op- erative force in the development of monasticism for many centuries. Scarcely any monastic 'author was read so continuously as Cassian. As late as the thirteenth cen-tury, St. Dominic was reading his Conferences. Con-stantly read and reread, Cassian's books [ashioned the medieval--and our ownnmonastic life. The Holy Spirit at Work in the Church The truth underlying Cassian's error is the almost simultaneous appearance of the religious life everywhere that the Church took root. The origin of the monastic life was a spontaneous manifestation of the Holy Spirit impelling Christians to live the life of the counsels taught by Jesus. Antony was merely the first to emerge, thanks to Athanasius, from the anonymity that conceals the virgins, celibates, and ascetics who preceded him. The impetus of the Spirit is seen particularly in the early acceptance of the virginal life by both men and women as a prime means of following the Master. From the end of the first century there are references to ascetics who lived continently "in honor of the flesh of Christ." After the third century virgins were looked upon as "the most illustrious portion of the flock of Christ" and were considered the spouses of Christ. Perfect continence, to-gether with voluntary poverty and austerity of life, was a constitutive element of the ascetical life that began to develop in the second century. Though these ascetics lived in their homes, sometimes holy women, widows, and virgins formed small communities that were marked by considerable personal freedom. The general reverence of the Church for chastity when Antony became a hermit about 300 A.D. accounts in large measure for the immediate wide diffusion of the eremitic and cenobitic forms of monasticism throughout the Christian world. The dynamic power of the Holy Spirit has been con-stantly operative during the history of the religious life. Here again there is a link with the early community of Jerusalem. These Christians, as we find their record in Acts, were very conscious of the action of the Spirit in their lives and apostolic works. Theirs was a life lived in the ~lan of the Spirit, as Vicaire remarks. ImmediateIy after describing the primitive community, the Acts of the Apostles goes on to say: "And great grace was upon them all" (4:33). This grace made itself visible even by miracles: "And many wonders and signs were done through the apostles" (2:43). When William of Saint-Thierry, whom I quoted a few pages back, described monastic origins, he manifested the awareness the monks had that the charismatic power of the Spirit was at work among them. In William's think-ing it was the "grace of the Holy Spirit which gave [the ÷ ÷ 4. Religious Orders VOLUME 28, 1969 W. A o Hinnebusch~ O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Apostles] power from above to live together in such a way that all would have but one heart and one soul, so that everything would be held in common . '~ Cen-turies before, Gregory the Great, writing his Dialogues within fifty years of the death of Benedict, described the great patriarch of Western monasticism as the ideal "man of God," the spiritual father who was entirely under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. The attention paid to the miracles worked by the founders and great figtires of monastic history is not merely a thoughtless emphasis on the secondary but was motivated by. the belief that the true monk, living in community, possesses an extraordinary grace for radiat-ing sanctity and contributing to the upbuilding of the B6dy of Christ. He can even receive from the Spirit the power of working miracles. The present-day interest in the charismatic character of the religious life and the charismatic founders is a legitimate, more explicit, recognition of the power of the Spirit working through all the years of monastic history. His role in the religious life deserves more attention and should awaken in us a great hope in the future of the religious life. Antony the Hermit Monasticism entered the pages of history close to the year 300 A.D. when Antony, the great hermit, gave away his possessions and retired to the Egyptian desert. The holiness and ordered discipline of his life, characterized by solitary contemplation and a severe but lofty and well-balanced asceticism soon brought other hermits to him for direction. Great colonies of solitaries arose under Antony's direction, especially at Pispir, where he lived, and at Nitria and Scete. These disciples lived alone like their master. Antony found so many imitators because of his moral greatness at a time of growing wickedness in the contemporary world. When Constantine ended the per-secutions and began to favor Christianity, the consequent lowering of the moral level of Christian life stimulated the development of a powerful ascetical movement, in-spired by the Gospels, on the ~ringes of the populated world. Antony became the model of the movement, especially after the appearance of his Life, written by Athanasius in 357 A.D., a year after Antony died. Gre-gory of Nazianzen called it "a rule of monastic life in the form of a narrative." Athanasius, who had known Antony personally and had seen him often, considered "the life of Antony an ideal pattern of the ascetical life." He intended to hold up Antony as the exemplar of the consecrated life and induce his readers to imitate what they saw. The work enjoyed a~tonishing success and was shortly translated into various languages. Antony, earnestly desiring to die the death of a martyr, went to Alexandria in 311 A.D., when the persecution of Maximin Daja broke out, to minister to the confessors in the mines and prisons, not thinking it justified to turn himself over to the authorities. When his hopes were dis-appointed, Antony returned to his desert cell where "he was a daily martyr to his conscience, ever fighting the battles of the faith. For he practiced a zealous and more intense ascetic life." With this short passage Athanasius enriched monasticism at its very birth with a positive view of asceticism and the renunciations involved in the life of the counsels. Antony's life in the desert was a substitute martyrdom and the monk the successor to the . martyr, a concept that remains alive to this day. Pachomius the Cenobite The weakness of the ei:emitical life lay in the minimal opportunity for practicing charity. Pachomius remedied this defect when he formed a genuine fellowship based on the communal charity inherent in Christianity. He composed the first monastic Rule, in it establishing the economic and spiritual bases for the common life and providing for community government. A younger con-temporary of Antony, Pachomius first served an appren-ticeship under the hermit Palaemon. Then about the year 320 A.D. he established a monastery at Tabennisi on the right bank of the Nile. Other monasteries soon followed, so that when he died, nine for men and two for women were under his guidance. These foundations were large settlements of monks who were organized into smaller groups according to the kind of agricultural work they did or the crafts they practiced. They lived a disciplined life, practiced individual poverty and de-tachment in essential matters, supported themselves by remunerative work, gathered for prayers morning and evening, and observed the three counsels, though they took no vows. Numerous biographies testify to the esteem in which Pachomius was held and the extent of his in- ~uence. Basil the Great The eremitical and cenobitic types of monasticism spread quickly both in East and West. Basil the Great, who benefited from the experience of the previous half century bf monastic experience, became the lawgiver of Eastern monasticism when he wrote his Longer R

Issue 27.4 of the Review for Religious, 1968. ; ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. John C. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to l~vmw FOR I~LmmUS; 6~ 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; 3=I Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9m6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University~ the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1968 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS at428 East Preston Street; Bahirnore, Mary-land 21202. Printed in U.S.A. Second class post.age paid at Baltimore, Maryhmd. Single cop~es: $1.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two )'ears; other countries: 55.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIE~,' FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, wher~ accom-panied by a remittance, should be sent to REWEW vo~ RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent to REVIEW ~OR RELIGIOUS ; 428 East Preston Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21202. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REview ro~ R~LIGIOGS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JULY 1968 VOLUME 27 NUMBER 4 DAVID T. ASSELIN, s.J. Christian Maturity and Spiritual Discernment My purpose is to situate personal spiritual discernment in the context of faith-growth, that is, Christian matu-rity. From this viewpoint, to educate the faith is less a question of theological instruction than one of guided. spiritual experience. I am thinking of the teleioi of Hebrews 5:14, "the mat~[re who have their faculties trained by experience to discern between good and evil," an excellent summary of the Spirit's work of restoration out of the chaos which resulted from man's original attempt to determine good and evil for himself and on his own. The term could also be translated "the perfect," or, perhaps, "the personally fulfilled." Faith, throughout this discussion, should be under-stood in the sense of Vatican II's Decree on the At~osto-late of the Laity: Only by the light of'faith [the impressive word is "only"] and by meditation on the word of God, can one always and everywhere recognize God, in whom "we live and move and have our being," seek His will in every event, see Christ in all men whether they are close to us or strangers, make correct judgments about the true meaning and value of temporal things, both in themselves and in their relationship to man's final goal. ¯ Ex.cept for meditation on Scripture nothing is said in this text about the means of maturing the faith. The Council simply outlines the content of adult faith. What I should like to explore is an indispensable element in the process of maturation of this content. The truth of the matter is that faith is not primarily a source of answers to our questions but rather our answer to the Lord's question; "Lovest thou me?" In other words, I take faith not as quest for answers (to our in-tellectual problems) nor as a set of answers (to the ques-tions of "others), but as the answer "of the whole person 4, David T. Asselin, S.J., is spiritual di-rector at Regis Col-lege; 3425 Bayview Avenue; Willow-dale, Ontario; Can-ada. VOLUME 27, 1968 581 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 582 to the Lord inserting His Person and Spirit, and thus articulating Himself as the divine Word, in human life. My general proposition is that at the very heart of growing in faith we find, necessarily, a refinement and increase of the grace of spiritual discernment. Without discernment there is no growth in faith. Spiritual dis-cernment, therefore, is less a question of being intellec-tually clever than of being graced and called by the Lord to grow in knowledge of Him. All things serve the Lord of history; all persons are called to be the vehicles of His creative will; all men willy-nilly serve the God of human history's purposes. Otherwise, they would not be introduced into ongoing incarnational history. However, not everyone, so far, seems to hear the call to know the Lord he se~wes, to know Him as a friend does a friend, as a son his father, a wife her husband. To know Him is the mark of spiritual growth and maturity. Faith-growth is God's work. Man can do no better than collaborate with the divine initiative in his spiritual life. This seems to imply several things. First of all, as the spiritual point of departure, it de-mands an openness to being moved by God. This is the key to obedience as well as to all spiritual encounter. The fundamental Christian attitude, then, is that of a listener, one who is open to divine initiatives whatever they might be. It is radically and essentially a prayer-attitude, one that continues, or ought to continue, be-yond prayer into the apostolate and every other work or experience. The second implication is a need for some continual scrutiny and reflection in regard to the experiences inte-rior to 6neself in prayer and in all life's situations. This self-examination is needed not merely to lay hold of juridically impt.~table faults but more importantly to grow in habitual discrimination and discernment-by-faith of the various, interior experiences and personal spiritual calls--impulses, inclinations, attractions, re-pugnances, assaults--that occur much more frequently than perhaps we either admit or spiritually discern. The third demand is a growing ability to recognize and respond only to those experiences which are dis-cernibly frotn the Lord. Here, in the area of concrete affectivity, are the contacts with the Lord's divine initia-tives guiding the individual person or community. The difference between personal spiritual direction and spir-itual government of a community involves a difference in the mode of spiritual scrutiny and recognition of the divine will in the concrete. Whatever accidental dif-ference may emerge in the mode of reflection on ex-perience, both the community scrutiny and the ifldi- .vidual scrutiny lead ultimately to the possibility of a response which we may call "rightly ordered," a direct response to inner vocation that gives first place to answer-ing the.Lord's question, "Lovest thou me?" In brief, these three requirements---openness to spir-itual experience, reflection on it, and response-ability to it--are basic elements in the growth of personal sensi-tivity to the initiatives of the Lord, or spiritual discern-ment. Whether on the community or individual level, in order to achieve government, spiritual direction, or faith-growth, the cooperation of several is required. The director 'and the directed, the superior and the subject, the spiritual father and his "son,'~ must both be. humbly alert in a collaboration of listening to the Lord's Spirit~ The basic relationship of spiritual direction and govern-ment is a structured team-work of director and directed in discerning the will of the Lord in concrete~ situations. Both, then, must be continually subordinated to the Lord's Spirit and His word as the principal director. The hierarchy of subordination, in the context of spir-itual direction, is that of a human directo]: who by his calling is the servant of a relationship growing between the one directed and the Spirit of the Lord. In a sense, then, the human director takes his stand, spiritually, in the lower, not the higher, place. In this relationship of spiritual direction, destined to serve the Lord's creative work in the individual and in the ~ommunity, the responsibility falls first on the Lord Himself, secondly on the group or the individual' called to Him, and finally on the servant of their relationship, the spiritual director. If there" is any subordination to human direction in responding to God, this sub-ordination must be established by the Lord and guaran-teed. by Him (or by a convenant or pact freely entered into on the part of the subject). Growth in discernment of the action of God's Spirit is, then, the thing which truly matures and estab-lishes in the faith a spiritual person or community. An authentic spiritual community is one which can be described in terms of its real awareness of being moved and directed by the Holy Spirit, on many levels. This awareness is not just found vaguely throughout the com-munity but according to the clearly defined functions of properly subordinated individuals. As we find in the Gospels, to be great in the community° of the Lord is to be the least and servant of all. The work of the one wh~)se responsibility it is to direct others is a work of assisting them, as individuals and as a group, to hear and respond better to the Lord's initiatives in every ,situa-tion. This direction or government is a spiritual thing pre2 ÷ 4, Maturity and ¯ Discernment ~VOLUME 27, 1968 583 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 584 cisely to the extent that it is collaboration with the Lord's Spirit, the ultimate director and superior. The Lord's indications, leads, initiatives, must be discerned as coming from Him and then followed, if a man is to serve the Lord in a way befitting man, that is by knowing the Lord he serves. There is, then, a need today to respect the importance and centrality of interior, personal, spiritual experience without undue fear of false mysticism or of the folly of the enthusiasts, quietists, alumbrados. Moreover, we must investigate the area of spiritual experience today because the Church is not only inviting ns but requiring us to do so, in the words of one who cries out: "He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches" (Ap 2:11). The word "maturity" has been aptly defined by the Swiss psychologist, Jean Piaget, who made extensive studies of children in their process of development. Mh-turity, he found, is simply an increase in the capacity to differentiate in a practical manner interior experiences and operations. If we adopt this definition, then the life of faith in a man is mature to the extent that it involves a capacity to reflect upon, understand, discriminate be-tween, and respond to, the inner spiritual stimuli that he experiences within himself. The Lord's Personal Call It might be well here to suggest some relationships between general law or principle on the one hand, and individuated personal experience on the other. To di-vorce the two is to fall into legalism and moralism, or into a kind of situation-ethic. The problem is how to relate these poles. It is true that general law and principle rightly and concretely circumscribe each personal situation. But they do so only to the extent that this situation is common to all men, and not proper to this person as such. I mean that the situations of Peter and of Paul are cor-rectly guided by general principle only insofar as Peter and Paul are men, therefore impersonally considered, not insofar as they are distinguished from each other by name. Peter qua Peter is more than just a man. In this regard permit me to draw attention to the per-fect way of knowing a man, intimately and personally, which is the Lord's way of knowing him, that is, by name. We read in Isaiah 43:1: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name: you are mine." Or again, in John 10:3: "The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them forth." Scripture continually reveals the personal and intimate knowledge that the Lord has of each of His creatures: "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I dedicated you, a prophet to the nations I appointed you" (Jer 1:5); "Lord, you have pi:obed me and you know me, you understand my thoughts from afar, with all my ways you are familiar, even~ before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know the whole of it, where can I go from your Spirit, from your presence where can I flee" (Ps 138:139). Just as it is clear that the Lord knows and calls each man by name, it is equally clear that man becomes spir-itually mature to the extent that he can recognize and acknowledge who it is that is calling him, responding to . the Lord by name in all things: The days are coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the House of Israel and the House of Judah. It will not be like the covenant I made with their fathers the day I took them by the hand to lead them forth from the land of Egypt. For they broke my covenant and I had to show myself their master, says the Lord. But this is the covenant which I will make with the House of Israel after those days, says the Lord. I will place my law within them, and write it upon their hearts; I will be their God, and they shall be my people. No longer will they have need to teach their friends and kinsmen how to know the Lord. All, the least to the greatest, shall know Me, says the Lord, for I will forgive their evil doing and remember their sin no more (Jer 31:31ff.). It seems clear, here and elsewhere in Scripture, that God is establishing with each human person as well as with His community a new spiritual relatiqnship of tremendous value which exceeds the expectations of authentic Chris-tian personalism today. In order to discover the meaning of Peter qua Peter, and of Paul as unique and distinct from Peter, in the context of universal salvation history (which, after all, is the task in which spiritual directors and superiors are, I believe, primarily intended to assist), it is necessary to discover the unique meaning, value, and orientation that is proper to Peter's spiritual situation precisely as distinct from Paul's, before the Lord. By what kind of logic is this sort of knowledge attained? Over and above the universal validity of general principle and law, Peter, as an unrepeatable, unique individual, must be guided by a logic that is other than the logic of general principle and universal law. In other words, there are two kinds of logic. One logic, which .we might call conceptual or proposi-tional, is the basis for reasoning in universally valid terms. The point of departure, the principle or the foun-dation from which the successive insights and conclu-sions proceed according to this logic will be an axiom. It begins therefore with a self-evident proposition. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 585 D. T. As~elin, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 586 Logic o[ the Concret~ .There is another logic, however, the Jogic of con-crete, unique, and individual events and persons (which, inCidentally, is the w, ay God apprehends things). Here, . the human foundation or first principle will no longer be an axiom but an experience. As the logic of conceptual knowledge is based on axiomatic, propositions, so the logic of concrete knowledge is based on concrete ex-perience. Mature faith-response to the Lord's word can emerge only from personal encounter with Him. I think it is the job of superiors and spiritual directors to point to those authentic experiences whereby the Lord is communicating Himself to individuals and communi-ties, thus guiding their spiritual growth and governing their development as Christian persons. This concret~ knowledge of the Lord and of His ways. can only be had, as the Vatican Council proposes, "by meditation on the word of God." Faith-growth is inseparable from prayer-life. Both are areas of fundamental concern to all who are called not only by the Lord's, "Lovest thou me?" but also by His, "Feed my lambs and sheep." What, therefore, the individual as such ought to de-cide in the area of liberty and private responsibility cannot be fully determined by general principle or law. It is of vital importance, however, that what is decided be determined with spiritual certitude, not merely by guesswork, accident, or whim. This is precisely why reliable, that is, mature, faith-discernment of interior experiences and, events is important. Otherwise, we run a risk of considering these experiences as mere psycho-logical phenomena, avoiding the whole world of con-crete events in function of which spiritual discernment and maturity can take place. Rather, we must approach the world of private and group e~perience as filled with the glorious presence (shekinah) of the Lord, the indications of His will and concrete providence, and perhaps .the presence of an adverse spirit. Hence, it is only a faith-awareness and dis-cernment of these events which can lead to an under-standing of the individual or community relationship to the Lord, an estimation of their spiritual maturity, and a reliable ifi~rease in their personal freedom and re- + sponsibility. + No concrete choice can be well ordered in the faith + unless it coincides with the determination~ of the Lord 'of all human history. To be aware of these things in the concrete is the only way for a man to be "with it" spir-itually, or "where the action is." To be with the Lord of history, who revealed Himself as being so continually and intimately with us, we must be in personal corn- munication with Him in all things. Therefore, the particular experience that functions as a self-evident first principle for the logic of concrete individual knowl-edge is nothing short of a real experience of the Lord communicating Himself and uttering His invitation and call directly to a pers9n for his u.nique situation, Growth in discernment presupposes several elements. There must be, first of all, inner experience; second,. repeated reflection, on this experience; third, a dis-crimination between various experiences, not from the pbint of view of mere natural causalities (psychological or otherwise), but from that of personal faith in the Lord of concrete history; fourth, an evaluation of these interior experiences from this faith-standpoint; finally, the ca-pacity to receive and obey those movements which are discernibly from the Lord, or.at least clearly not inspired by an adverse spirit. This is the only way to be with the Lord, and where His action is, in reality. Only thus can a man truly grow as a mature person and find. fulfillment. He must find his own personal relationship with the Creator and Lord of all things, and place himself at His service unre-servedly. Experience, then, of encounter and contact with .the Lord, of listening to and of being guided by Him di-rectly, must lie within the capacities of ordinary Chris-tian faith-maturity. Otherwise, how could an adult Chris-tian enjoy an authentic spiritual calling? The only way a man can be divinely called to a personal vocation is "bY name," which means by a unique and personal en-counter with tbe Lord in terms of incommunicable inner experience. Surely our adult Christians, in the light of Vatican II, are not merely destined to serve the Lord, but intimately to know the Lord they serve. Surely their service must flow from a personal.knowledge of Him, a concrete knowledge which cannot be grasped from the-ology or from psychology or even from the mere absence of "impediments to vocation," but from personal ex-perience and prayer. There is question here of something mystical, at least on an elementary level, in the ordinary faith-growth of a Christian--something entailing immediate conscious con-tact with the person of the Lord. Hence, we confront today a mysticism that is to be recognized and fostered within the ordinary providence of God's grace for anyone called to know Him. This kind of knowledge is what specifies the relationship between. God and His people, God and the individual, in the whole Judaeo-Christian history of vocation. I submit that today the discernmentof spirits, as it is called, is the most relevant focal, point in our spiritual ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 587 ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS heritage, because it is the concrete., logic of personal spiritual knowledge of las cosas internas, the "interior things," the life of inner spiritual experience. Only a refined spiritual discernment will guide a man to mature self-possession, freeing him from inner disorder in his choosing so that he may enjoy a growing, divine en-counter of faith in all circumstances. In this way, his faith-awareness will envelop, enlighten, guide everything else in his life, so that he will not be able to love any-thing ~r anyone save "in the Lord." It is only within this world of each man's personal experience that his faith-response can be given to the evocative word of the Lord. " Today.in this age of personalism, of self-discovery, of fulfillment, of communication and dialogue, there is a dyifig interest, in any gospel that might limit itself to spiriyual absolutes and generalities, to moralism or trite devotionalism, just as there is a reaction against the spiritual anonymity of the" "lonely crowd" and. the impersonality of the "organization man" in our "secular city.:' Such-labels indicate' the personal alienation that threatens urbanized man today. We all know the reac-tion formation which arises against this situation, offering a purely secular salvation in terms of this-worldly ful-fillment of man's four basic desires: his desire for security, affection, variety, and esteem. Man's real salvation today, however, according to our Christian world-view based on the 'new covenant announced in Jeremiah 31, 31 ft., entails being radicallygraced by God in such a way that the divine presence and will can be known and hcknowl- ' edged personally by each man. Confronted exclusively with general principles and laws, or the enunciation of general truths based upon them which do not focus on each man as a unique per-son but necessarily treat him merely as another instance of numerically multipliable human nature undistin-guished by any name, modern man will remain deaf to ¯ his true personal call to greatness, spiritually immature. If the Christian logic of concrete personal vocation is ignored today, there is a growing danger that tomorrow both Peter and Paul will search for their identity out, side the authentic Christian view of things., perhaps against it. It is only through the gradual and inevitably painful education of a man's faith-view of concrete particulars, that is, the education of his capacity spiritually to dis-cern concrete reality within himself or others, that he can be entrusted with the responsibility of personally determining the steps and measures which bear on his own salvation or that of others. ~ We are far from endorsing, therefore, an undiscerning confidence and blind acceptance of everything that a man spontaneously is inclined to think best. According to the view of some, everything is acceptable or good which inwardly attracts or moves a man, as long as it is not a clear inclination to sin. As a matter of fact, if it were all that easy it would hardly be worth discussing. Spiritual responsibility is insured only by an authentic growth of the capacity to discern the personal word and will of Christ for onself or for another. This merely re-affirms the central Christian position which is one of lis-tening to and following the word of God addressed to man: "Blessed is hewho hears the word of God and keeps it"; or again: "My mother and brothers and sisters are those who hear the word of God and keep it." To some degree or other all of us have this problem of faith-maturity. Therefore, we must consider maturity not as a terminal achievement but rather as maturation, a continuum of emerging awareness of interior en-counter and personal vocation initiated by the Lord. All this applies to community experience as well as to that of the individual, and it includes in its ambit the beginner as well as the teleios in the sense of Hebrews 5:14, "the one who has faculties trained by experience to discern good from evil." This points to faith-guided discernment as the cor-rection of Adam's fault who attempted, :according to Genesis 3, on his own and independently of the Lord's personal indication, to "eht of the fruit of the tree of. the knowledge of good and evil," that is, to discern for himself independently of God what was good and evil in the concrete. Hence any education in the discernment of right from wrong must emerge from the radical faith-position of one who is a listener to the Lord: "All that is not of faith is sin" (Rom 14:23). Structure and Individuation We are always confronted with the necessity of ad-mitting the young into formation structures in such a way as to allow for varying degrees of spiritual maturity already achieved and to foster further personal growth in the knowledge of God's will and love by discernment. Moreover, at the beginning of the process of formation there are two factors polarized, which, I feel, need to undergo considerable change in their basic relationship .by the end of that formative process. We can label those two factors "structure" and "in-dividuation." Structure, here, means a generally pre-dictable behavior pattern within which the individual and the group are directed to maturity in their en-counter with the Lord. For beginners there is need of a ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment. ,~.~ VOLUME 27~ 1968" 589 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~90 meaningful and reasonable overall structure in which the young candidates are .introduced to spiritual re-sponsibility. This structure will be more extensive and more detailed in virtue of the greater need for assistance and protection required in the period of initial growth. By individuation, in the context of formation, I mean everything that falls under the general heading of per-sonal admonition, directive, prescription, correction, or guidance. It is my general i~npression that we have not been afflicted so'much with overstructure in formation (we have had much structure but I think much is needed to ¯ .begin the process of faith-growth) as with a kind of rev-erence for this structure which tends to find maturity in terms of structural function and hence to preserve initial structures unchanged throughout religious life. ¯ I also believe we have been afflicted with an anxious protection and maintenance of this structure by over-stricture, so that the individual has been given to feel that the structure is an absolute value and that his least exterior failure or fault will be judged as maximal when, in fact, it might be objectively and spiritually minimal. A process of destructuring must occur. But, more im-portantly, we ought to begin formation with complete gentleness, patience, and the allowance for personal uniqueness, in the application of strictures within the required structure. With structure and individuation polarized in this way at the point of departure of formation, let me. degcribe the general evolution .which hopefully might occur with respect to the relationship between structure and individuation over the years, By its end a period of formation ought to reveal much less structure (because we' can presume that with discernment the spiritual adult has become more personally aware of his Lord and has achieved a more refined sensitivity to the promptings of the Holy Spirit) and much more stricture (because he has grown in spiritual sensitivity, in his capacity for self-direction, for discerning the Lord in all things by faith and love, and is consequently more accountable, that is, responsible, for these things). No community ought to aim at being completely un-structured or informal as long as men are mortal and original sin still, affects their motivation, decisions, and efforts. But I believe much failure in formation is due to the initial overemphasis of both stricture and struc-ture, producing a reaction against¯ both. We often end up with serious:difficulties not so much with the young as the old and religiously "formed," who, when it is safe to throw off structures, will no longer listen to stric-ture either. This, of course, reveals that their formation left them spiritually immature. How difficult it is at times to tell a man who has been~ twenty-five years in religious life what to do or not to do. It is not easy, if he is obstinate. It is not easy if he feels: "Now that I have gone through that formation bit, you don't push me around." I think a lot of our scandal emerges precisely when the process of destructuring takes place reveali.ng little faith-education or spiritual maturity to fill up the vac-uum created by ~his process. It shows that no growth in spiritual responsibility has.supplanted the firmness of protective structures. By the end of our periods of formation, when the col-lective factors have been diminished on the level of structure, there ought to emerge a deeper spiritual rela-tionship with the superior, confessor, personal director, on the individual level, that is, on the level of concrete prescription, spiritual direction, and discernment. I feel that little faults in mature persons are much more serf-otis than little faults in beginners. Perhaps we ought to increase the importance of private direction for the ma-ture, not only in the sense of reprehension and correction of faults, but also of more tailored discernment of the will of the Lord. Existentially, this continuum of for-mation ought to be a movement, from external law to the interior law of love. , St. Paul had insight int~ such freedom. He claims that we are freed by learning to love like Christ. He does not mean by freedom that we are no longer bound by ex-ternal law, but rather that we are no longer driven, cap-tured, or urged by anything except by divine love: "Caritas Christi urget nos." To the degree that mature Christian love existentially directs a man's choices, his need for external law and direction is lessened. Only.by the "strength of the Lord's personal initiati~ces of love in his regar~l wi!l he be stimulated to respond to the Lord's word calling him to share responsibility for his own salvation and that of others. This call in its fullness is identical with the vocation to enter the paschal mystery of the Lord's suffering service, death, and resurrection. Hence, we can say with Vatican II that it is "only by faith and by meditation on the word of God" that we can find God's will in anything, discover Christ in our fellow man, or evaluate temporal things in their true light, that is, in the light of salvation history into which all things have happily been assumed by the risen Lord. There is no possibility of mature faith-growth unless, between the beginning and the end of its spectrum, there is inserted personal, incommunicable experience of en-trance into the mystery of Christ's dying and rising. The problem today is a growing tendency to skip the + + + Maturity and Discernment" VOLUME 27, '1968 591 ÷ ÷ ÷ D. T. Asselin, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 592 passion and death in an attempt to establish the Resur-rection. We need more than ever a spiritual awareness of the contemporary dimensions of the passion and death, such as you find in St. Paul who identifies the mystery of Christ's nekrosis with his own experiences of suffering, persecution, and rejection in the apostolate and. ministry . of the word. The word "mystery" in this context means a human experience of the Word made flesh such as we imply when we speak of the "mysteries" of the rosary Or when we contemplate the "mysteries of the public life of Jesus." The definitive mystery of the Word made ttesh is His redemptive experience of dying and rising, which is the matrix of all Christian formation and maturity. Growth and formation involve the development of a conscious love relationship with the Lord. Lovers are those who share intimately each other's experiences of joy and suffering and know by experience the depth and the breadth and the mystery of the unique other. The Lord has this kind of knowledge of us--a knowledge which can become the friendship of .mutual love only if we dwell also in this kind of knowledge of Him. Therefore, our entrance into His mystery of passion and death implies, in the first place, a growth in our aware-ness of His complete entrance into our mystery, His complete appropriation of our personhood and life ex-perience. Neither this awareness nor the experience of entry into His mystery are vague abstractions. His definitive entrance into our present life was by a very real dying and rising. It is this experience of His that has become the key to our faith-awareness of Him. Thus, His suffer-ing, dying, rising, unfold anew in our life experience because of our intimate, mutual involvement with Him, revealed by faith. Conclusion The real spiritual theology of action, of renewal, and of labor (including the labors of the apostolate and min, istry of the word), centers on this contemporary sharing in Christ's redemptive death and resurrection. You will find this everywhere in St. Paul, for instance in I Corin-thians 1:3 ft. and 4:7 ff: "The sufferings of Christ abound in us, the consolation in you"; or again: "We are con-tinually carrying about in our bodies the dying state of Jesus so that the living state of Jesus may be manifest in our bodies too." So, too, Paul speaks of the personal mandate through Christian baptism of entering into the mystery of Christ's death and resurrection, which implies finding the dimensions of His mystery as it is realized concretely in one's own. This Will involve a personal sharing of the emptying-out or kenosis of Christ, an experience of hu-man b~irrenness, agony, and dereliction out of which alone can emerge the marvelous truthfulness of the Lord rising in our personal world, today. I do not think this is going to be appreciated if it is merely described, as I do here. It is something that must be learned from experience under the guidance of that kind of spiritual discernment that calls a thing by its right name, as it is occurring in a man's experience. No natural terms or categories are sufficient, to capture the meaning of this experience of.entry into the mystery of Christ that is ours. Hence, the language of faith is the principal language to be used in spiritual direction and discernment. Nobody can accomplish for me this work of collabora-tion with Christ to which I am personally called. With-out personal inner encounter I have knowledge only of a kind of "unknown God," which really is no knowl-edge at all; and the danger of not knowing God is of be-coming adokimos, someone of an undiscerning mind, who knows created reality by experience without dis-cerning the Lord and Creator. This was the failure of the pagans according to Romans 1:18 ft., where Paul degcribes their decline through various stages of degrada-tion because they were unable to discern the will and love of the Lord of all creation. The human conversation with God was broken off in the garden of Eden, not because God stopped speaking to man but because man stopped listening to God. All sacred history recounts the restoration not only in the individual but in the city of man of the ability to listen to the word olz God articulated in the contemporary events and realities of each successive age, as in a con-tinuing kaleidoscope of the Lord's presence articulated in the eternal '~today" of man's relationship to his Lord. The builders of the tower of Babel were dispersed by God because they attempted to build the city on their own, without His initiative, His word. Abraham, in the next chapter, is the one in whom the listening to God's word historically begins to be restored. Eventually, the city image of Babel in Chapter 11 of Genesis, the city which is almost a bad word in theearly parts of Scrip-ture, becomes the very end-time symbol of the awareness of God's intimate presence and conversation in Apoc-alypse 21, where the new city created by God, the new Jerusalem, needs neither temple nor source of light other than God Himself and his Son the Lamb. Eventually, the Lord who is Father and the Lamb will themselves be both temple-of worship and source of light for the city of man. This symbol marks the terminal point of + + + Maturity and Discernment VOLUME "27, 1968 593 + ÷ ÷ D. T.'Asselin, REVIE~FOR RELIGIOUS community salvation. If you read Apocalypse 21, you will find that the individual relationship to the Lord emerges as perfect along with the destructured com-munity relationship to the Lord: "He who overcomes shall possess these things, and I will be his God, and he shall be my son" (Ap 21:7). There is no opposition, then, between the community-growth and individual fulfillment. We reach full person-hood in the community of the Lord's people by sharing an awareness of God's personal presence and glory. We celebrate this in our daily Eucharist. We announce these Christian facts of life and we promote them, there. We increase and grow in our realization of them by listening privately and together to the word of God, and together and in private responding wholeheartedly. In conclusion I should like to indicate a fundamental criterion by which the authenticity of faith-growth and spiritual discernment must. always be measured. The fundamental attitude of the believer is of one who lis-tens. It is to the Lord's utterances that he gives ear. In as many different ways and on as many varied levels as the listener can discern the word and will of the Lord mani-fested to ,him, he must respond with all the Pauline "obedience of faith." Obedience always implies an attitude of listening, signified by the Latin ob-audire and Greek hupo-akouo. It is the attitude of receptivity, passivity, and poverty of one who is always in need, radically dependent, con-scious of his creaturehood. Freedom, faith-growth, and spiritual maturity must always begin with fundamental obedience to the Lord's laws, directives, and providence for the individual and the community. The evolution of faith to spiritual adulthood is measured not by neglecting or escaping these basic divine dispositions so as to be no longer bound by them, but rather by transcending external laws and prescriptions so as to be bonnd more deeply and intimately by the greater demands of an internal law uttered in the heart. One is always bound by general law and principle and by external authority legitimately exercised, but one can transcend this dimension as the motive of response to the Lord to the degree that one can discern and obey the internal law of love imprinted in the heart by the Spirit, establishing the new covenant announced by Jeremiah 31:31 ft. Bound by external law and authority, our faith-growth consists in being moved by the internal: "Caritas Christi urget nosl" No internal discernment of the Lord's will and vocation is valid if it disobeys or degtroys the Lord's external dispositions exercised by legitimate auo thority and institution. There is only one Spirit breath-ing on many levels where and how He wills. The authentic maturity of faith by spiritual discern-anent will manifest itself in a fourfold reconciliation of man, matching the fourfold human conflict introduced by man's primitive disobedience: a reconciliation (1) with the Lord in a Spirit of prayerful sonship crying "Abba," (2) within oneself by the peace that replaces the shame of guilt, (3) with one's neighbor by the love that replaces anger and fear, (4) and with ktisis or physical creation by a resurrection. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity and Discernment VOLUME 27, 1968 ". . 595 BERNARD LEE, S~M. The Spring Wants to Come: A Study in Community ÷ ÷ ÷ Bernard Lee, S.M., is on the fac-ulty of St. Mary's High School; 4701 South Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Mis-souri 6311 I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 596 Introduction I had originally intended to cast these introductory remarks into footnotes in very brief form. But a discus-sion and very helpful critique with members of my communi.ty suggested the importance of beginning with two observations that appear necessary for keeping the discussion in the" right context. The first point is this: what the article is not is a comparison between art and community life in which certain aesthetic principles are analogically applied to community. Beauty is a transcendental, and it is a real characteristic-of all that is. There are degrees of beauty and kinds of beauty. It can be recognized and experi-enced. Like many of the practical items we use and need, community is a practical response to a need: psychologi-cal needs stemming from our social nature, pragmatic needs for coping with the world around us. But over and above this, both the practical items and the practical community are capable of being works of art, pieces of beauty, as well. The application of asesthetic principles to community life is, therefore, a direct application of principles that are, in the philosophical sense, proper to it. This second introductory remark might seem a bit academic for the discussion that follows. But it has to do with basic presuppositions that govern the thought of the article. The characterization of beauty that I use is based very much upon the thgught of Alfred North Whitehead, the whole of his thought, but in particular his treatment of beauty in Adventure of Ideas. What is presumed is a world of reality whose nature is to be in process. Process is at the heart of the way things are. Process is reality. And an important qualifidation of this process is that it is evolutionary; it is directed to the creation of higher: forms and modes of existence. In Aristotelian thought the possibility of changing neces-sarily implies imperfection: "All change is by its nature an undoing" (Physics, IV, 222b). But in process philos-ophy, change is actually constitutive of reality. Becoming is no longer inferior to being. This obviously affects a philosophy of beauty--and therefore a philosophy of community--because process will be constitutive of beauty as well as of being. This is not the place to attempt a further characteri-zation of process philosophy. May I instead retommend the brief but superb introduction Charles Hartshorne wrote for Browning's Philosophers of Process, and the excellent second part of Eulalio Baltazar's Teilhard and the Supernatural which treats in more detail "The Phi-losophy of Process." The implications of all ttiis for theology and spirituality are immense--so immense that it almost seems ludicrous to toss off the observation so casually. I would like to conclude these introductory re-marks with some lines from Rilke: What keeps you from projecting His birth into times That are in the process of becoming, And living your life Like a painful and beautiful day In the history of a great gestation? For do you not see How everything that happens Keeps on being a beginning Since beginning is in itself Always so beautiful?. These very days Of your transition Are perhaps the time When everything in you Is working at him. And think that the least We can do is to make His becoming Not more difficult for Him Than theearth ¯ Makes its for the Spring When it wants to come. --Rainer Maria Rilke Community The history of humanity is the history of an evolution towards a more finely wrought community. The evolu-tion is not unmarked by failures, neither in the past nor now. But progress has been steady. And higher com-munity has normally been achieved when the demands 4, 4, ÷ Community VOLUME 27, 597 ÷ ÷ Bernar~ I=~ $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 598 of new social conditions have been responded to crea-tively. Today is a day of new demands, and we are on the verge of higher community if we can bring to those demands an adequately creative response. The movement towards the perfection of community has always been a part of human history, but a new inner urgency is communicated to the movement in Christ who calls men to brotherhood in God's love: "This solidarity must be constantly increased until that day on which it will be brought to perfection. Then, saved by grace, men will offer flawless glory to God as a family beloved of God and of Christ their brother" (gaudium et spes, § 32). In this discussion we would like to deal with the dynamics of building community. And here dynamics must bear the full weight of its meaning; for the evolutionary nature of community among men neces-sarily implies movement and change, trial and error, mutual tensions and continual interactions. The para-dox is that these factors are not manifestations of rest-lessness and caprice, but are the only basis for in-tensified solidarity. There are many valid points of departure for a dis-cussion of community. Our point of departure Will be aesthetic. It is peculiar to man, of all earth's creatures, to recognize beauty, to be moved and exhilarated by it. Because the quest for beauty and the response to it are both deeply human and deeply humanizing, we ought to be conscious of the beauty of community life that we work towards. We must even make that beauty a conscious aim--for it goes way beyond simply making community through the common task of meeting practi-cal exigencies; it calls us to create community. Throughout this discussion we will be thinking es-pecially of "community" in religious life. But the prin-ciples should be valid and operative within any social structure. The plan of this discussion is as follows. We will first talk about beauty and the degrees of harmony that mark it (and also that mark community life). Then we will try to show how greater intensity is possible in beauty (and how this is related to the perfection of community life). Then, from the psychological point of view of man's enjoyment of beauty, we will discuss the "move-ment" that is demanded by human appreciation of beauty (and the "movement" that is demanded for a constant human satisfaction with community life). I can recall having been asked for a reaction to some piece of architecture or other, and having replied that while I didn't really think it was great, it was at least pleasing and didn't jar. That something "isn't jarring" is an acknowledgement of at least a minor form of beauty, an absence of elements that would disturb the harmony. There are many elements in an art work (color in painting, rhythm, tone, and harmony in music) that might be independently quite pleasing, but which to-gether in certain combinations inhibit beauty. It is pos-sible to juxtapose two brilliant colors so that when they are together the b,rillance of neither comes through fully, though alone each would be striking. In this case there is a mutual inhibition that keeps either color from rising to the strength proper to it. It is likewise possible in music to counter two rhythms ~o each other in suchwise that neither is discernible; of course, a counterplay of two rhythms might well put each of the rhythms in bolder relief and make them easier to ap-preciate. In the first case, the mutual incompatibility of two rhythms is not only inhibitive of beauty, the two elements are actually destructive of each other. A minor form of beauty, oi: pleasingness, then, consists in the absence of elements that are either destructive of one another, or that keep each other from rising to the strength proper to each. This same aesthetique applies to community. When the fact of community is the result of the juxtaposition. of certain individuals within the same house, and not much more than that, the minor form of beauty just described.is probably the limit of communitarianbeauty available. There is a certain smoothness and harmony that results from not having personalities that are to-tally incompatible, and from having personalities that are enough alike (or have been made so by the repres-sion of differences) that they do not inhibit each other member from "being himself." The walls of a living room may be painted a 'very pleasing color and may provide quite a satis[actory experience. But if the walls are done in several colors, and if furnishings are chosen which blend and con-trast, much attention has to be given to composition. Two colors which cannot be tolerated next to each other might, in composition with a third and fourth color, give a heightened aesthetic experience not possible with the minor beauty of the one-color room. For this height-ened aesthetic experience derived from a contrast of contents, composition becomes increasingly important. For each element must stand in relation to every other element as well as to the whole. This is the only con-dition under which different elements can, by virtue of their very differences, not simply coexist juxtaposed, but become a truly powerful experience together. And there is a corollary to this. Not only does the individual element help heighten the aesthetic value of the compo- + + ÷ Community VOLUME 27, ~.968 ,599 + 4. 4. Bernard Lee, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS sition as a whole, but the whole itself ~s a setting for the individual element enhances the individual element. The whole uses and profits from that which is most unique in the individual element. It is what is different about this individual element that heightens the effect" of good composition. But that difference only becomes valuable and desirable in this setting of effective con-trast. Alone it is. well, just different. Again, ~his aesthefique applies to community living. A more intense community experience is possible through effective contrasts of personalities. This can only be a reality if ther6 is a community consciousness directed toward the creation of such a "composition." A minor form of beauty attained simply through the absence of jarring elements does not put upon "relationship" the premium it has in the heightened aesthetic experience towards which we work. "Relationship" is the basis of composition, and it requires conscious and deliberate effort to bring it off. By conscious effort we cannot mean a belabored preoccupation with improving or building interpersonal bonds--that is almost doomed to failure by the artificiality that would destroy what can only be fully natural, or else not be at all. But it does mean being quite conscious of the fact that differ-ences between us are the seed of greater community beauty. It does mean consciously and openly and hon-estly dealing with differences rather than shu~ing them under the carpet in favor of a minor and easier harmony. It is from the very desirable (and often painful) per-sonal confrontations in view of differences that such consciousness occasions interpersonal relationships really happening, and "composition" really occurring. And be-cause we are human beings, something happens in the composition of good community that does not happen in the'composition of good art: we individual elements have to stretch ourselves intellectually, socially, emo-tionally, psychologically, to contain the contrasts of our community. But what grow.th! And growing pains too. Only a community like this can address itself to the yearning of the contemporary man who wants to be where the personal identity he has worked so hard foI is 'appreciated and desired. He wants to be part of a community that challenges him to become and, in be-coming, to be his unique self. Only an aesthetique of striving for great communitarian beauty can provide for a whole that frames rather than swallows individuality. A beautiful nature scene which is exciting on a 16mm screen might well be overwhelming on the Cinerama screen. This introduces a new consideration into our discussion of beauty. There is something about the hu-man spirit, perhaps allied to the appetite for tran- scendence, that makes it reach out for what is grand. "A man's reach must exceed his grasp, else what's a heaven for?" Traditionally, being big-souled is being virtuous: magnanimity. In our aesthetic satisfaction there is a certain proper kind of intensity just in comparative magnitude. Nor is this to devalue the beauty of small delicate things--there are beautiful things that would suffer violence in enlargement. Yet it does remain true that sheer magnitude awakens the human spirit and issues a call to it to be likewise grand. This is as true of the aesthetic exlSerience as of other realms of our. ex-perience. Let us again apply our aesthetique to community life. Perhaps we should begin with the acknowledgement that there is a kind of intensity in the relationship between two friends that cannot be enlarged to a whole com-munity- this would be a naive aim. Yet on the other hand, there is a magnificence in the spirited unity of a large community that is an inspiration to behold, and that is an even greater inspiration to be part of. There is a strength and a power in such a unity. Of course, in speakirig of comparative magnitude as adding strength to beauty, we mean not sheer size alone, but one that is marked by the aesthetic qualities we dis-cussed already. The final point in our discussion of the qualities of aesthetic perfection has to do with variety of detail. Variety of detail can be worked at in many ways. The baroque and rococo are not our ways. But variety is im-portant even in an age that wants its architecture to have a naked beauty often drawn from nothing more or less than the unadorned structural elements. Variety of detail, then, is not extravagance. It is variation and contrast that, from a negative point of v.iew, prevents monotony and boredom; and, from a positive point of view, adds interest and excitement. This aesthetic qual-ity is somewhat akin to the previous one we spoke of. There is a grandeur in variety of detail. Mere variety is not the point; the variety must be well composed so that the contrast is effective. But all else being equal, variety of detail does add an aesthetic perfection. And, of course, variety exacts a keener attention to insure such an ef-fective composition. It doesn't just happen. Effective unity does not just happen in a community marked by a great variety of temperaments and per-sonalities. It can only be brought about by careful and patient care. Again, that must be conscious effort. It cannot happen unless a community has decided that it wills to work for a greater degree of communitarian beauty and then has begun the communitarian creativity which alone can bring it off. + ÷ ÷ Community ¯ VOLUME 27, 1968 601 Bernard Lee, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 602 At this point something should be said about discord and disharmony, about their positive worth and de-sirability, or rather, about the circumstances in which they are desirable. Effective contrast of different elements makes possible a higher form of beauty. It is discord which makes known the fact that different elements are present which have not been unified in effective contrast. It is dis-cord, then, that points a finger to the spot where at-tention is needed, where effective relating is needed, to incorporate these different elements into a community which will be richer for having taken them unto its own. Even if the minor forms of communitarian beauty have been attained quite well, it is probably humanly im-possible to move to a higher form based on effective contrast without experiencing discord. The discord must be expected. It must be welcomed as the herald of something better to come if it can be dealt with openly and sincerely. And it must not linger to haunt the new unity when it is born. In music the transition from a single tone into a harmony might well--and often does--pass through an intermedi~i(e disharmony. That disharmony often serves to heighten the experience of a ricli harmony which it (even in its split second existence) teased us into yearn-ing for. The application to many of the disharmonies of community life is obvious enough to need no com-mentary. Thus far we have discussed, from a somewhat philo-sophical point of view, the qualities of what is beauti-ful, the qualities which occasion the aesthetic experience for the human spirit. We would like to turn now to the human spirit~ and from that point of view discuss one further factor of prime i.importance in'our experience of beauty. So let us speak of the human spirit. There is a certain restlessness that makes it tire'of repetition. Even if it ha~ accommodated itself to the ease of repetition, it is un-likely that much of the deeper yearning of the human spirit can thus be satisfied. It can at best be anaesthe-tized. Clumsily but accurately rendered, the word "an-aesthetized" means unbeautied, deadened to the aes-thetic. Even beauty can anaesthetize when it is endlessly repeated in the same form. "Perfection will not bear the tedium of indefinite repetition" (Whitehead). To sus-tain the ardor of aesthetic enjoyment requires a con-stant' search for new perfection. Sometimes the new perfection need not even be a higher one, only an equal perfection. The new experience keeps the spirit aes-thetically intent, alive, and active. Change for the sake of change is capricious. But change, even when the practical situation does not de-mand it, even when the new thing is not an improve-ment, may still be quite desirable if it can sustain the intensity of our aesthetic experience of communitarian beauty. We must emphasize again that conscious recog-nition of striving for communitarian beauty as it has been described is a necessary context for welcoming change and movement and variation. Outside of this context, the change that is not pragmatically necessary is indeed obnoxious. If a com.munity has opted to strive for higher forms o[ beauty in its life together, the element of change needs attention; but to some extent it will take care of itself. The texture of a community changes with every personnel change. The addition or subtraction 6f even one member is bound to affect the quality of a com-munity that has determined its "composition" in view of each unique individual member, ff one member o~ a community has grown and been enriched through per-sonal, experience, the community grows too and accom-modates itself to the new experience within it. In this way each community should have a personality of its own, a beauty of its own that is particular to this com-munity because it is composed of these unique, indi-vidual persons. To the extent that communities have not achieved a beauty characteristic of each, one com-munity will look quite the same as any other. And per-haps we should be reminded here by Bishop Robinson that God is as much in the rapids as in the rocks. Nor is all of this discussion without import for that celebration of community which is the Eucharist. We h~ve probably all reflected how daily repetition of Mass ~can weaken the quality of our experience of it. I think we salve the situation too unctuously by countering that the eye of faith sees behind any possible tedium in the daily repetition. Mass is not simply the presence of God through the signs of bread and wine; the full symbol is the community that is gathered there to further in-tensify its unity in the breaking of one bread and the sharing of a Common cup. Because each community is-- or should be--unique, it must vitalize its celebration of the Eucharist by finding ways of expressing its unique-ness (and thus its beauty) in Mass, for this is how the community offers to God what is most beautiful to Him. The dynamic interaction of individuals in community is constantly modifying the texture of community, be it ever so little. There is, then, the challenge always to find new ways of offering God the new beauties that come to be in our midst, the new Beauties that ARE our Midst. ÷ ÷ ÷ ~,ommunity VOLUME 27, 1968 603 JOHN COWBURN, S.J. The Analogy of Religious Authority and Obedience ÷ ÷ ÷ John Cowburn, s.J., is a faculty member at Loyola College; Watsonia, Victoria S087; Aus-tralia. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In discussions of authority it is sometimes assumed, I think, that the authority of a father over his children is the first experienced and universally understood form of authority, and that all other forms of authority are ultimately analogous to it. On the basis of these as-sumptions, then, other forms of authority are explained by comparing them with this primordial form: God's authority over us is explained as being that of a father; the pope is called the Holy Father, bishops are told to be like fathers to their priests and people, pastors like fathers to their parishioners, and religious superiors like fathers and mothers to their subjects; and secular rulers, too, are thought to be like fathers to their subjects. On the other hand, it has been maintained that every form of authority is completely sui generis, so that argu-ments a pari from one form to another are never valid; or that, whatever may be said about secular forms of authority, at any rate the kinds of authority found in the Church are not analogous to natural forms, so that it is not really enlightening to compare them with these. Since, however, theology continually presupposes that analogy is possible and that one can argue by means of it, and since the. gospel has always been preached with the aid of analogies, it is surely reasonable to suppose that analogy can be used in discussions of authority. And if this is agreed on, perhap~ it can also be agreed that the family is the fundamental human society, that all forms of authority are ultimately analogous to forms of au-, thority found in the family, and that reflection on au-thority and obedience as they are exercised there can be helpful for an understanding of the nature of religious authority (not to mention other forms) and of the way in which it ought to be exercised. What I wish to question, however, is that this means that all authority, including that of the religious superior, is analogous to that of a father over his children--but I anticipate. Authority in the Family A family, surely, should not be seen simply as a group of people one of whom has authority over all the others. Rather, it should' be seen as constituted by two different relationships, or kinds of relationship: there is the re-lationship which binds the husband and wife to each other, and there are the relationships which bind the parents to the children and the children to the parents. Both these relationships involve authority on one side, and the.~recognition of that authority, or obedience, on the other: a husband is the head of the couple formed by his wife and himself, and she promises to love, honor and obey him; and of course parents have authority over their children, who owe them obedience. However, I suggest that we find here two distinct kinds of au-thority and obedience, and that reflection quickly shows that there are radical differences between them.1 Firstly, children do not choose to enter a family and they do not choose their parents, but a woman chooses. to marry and to become the wife of this man rather than of any other. The authority of parents over their chil-dren, then, is not given to them by the children, whereas a husband obtains authority over his wife when she freely gives it to him. The facts, that a woman cannot marry a man without giving him authority over her and that the authority once given may not arbitrarily be taken back do not affect the contention that one of the relationships is constituted by the free consent of both parties and the other is not. Secondly, one relationship is essentially between two adults, whereas the other is essentially between adults and children. If this were not obvious already, it could be shown by stating that a woman cannot marry until she is capable of making freely an important decision that will affect her whole life, that is, until she is no longer a child. Thirdly, in a normal family the parents are superior to their children in knowledge, understanding, wisdom, ¯ common sense, fortitude, and almost every other respect, and the lack of these qualities in children is the reason why they are subject to their parents in the way they are. In a normal family, however, the husband and wife are much more nearly equal in human qualities than par-x I have made this contention in The Person and Love (New York: Alba House, 1968), p. 157. (The English edition, published in London by Geoffrey Chapman, is called Love and the Person.) + + + Authority and Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 605 ÷ ÷ 1ohn Cowburn, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 60g ents and children are; indeed, if there is very great in-equality a true marriage is virtually impossible. And if in a normal family the husband is usually somewhat older than his wife and in some respects superior to her, this is not the reason why he has authority over her, as is shown by the wives who are actually superior to their husbands in intelligence and other human qualities and who nevertheless give them obedience. That is, if one asks in general why children are always under someone's dominion the answer is that they are incapable of being left in charge of themselves. If, however, one asks why most women are under the dominion of husbands, the answer is not that. It is, one supposes, that for the unity of a couple it is necessary that one partner be the leader and that the other--who, if she were living alone, would be quite capable of looking after herself--accept his leadership. Fourthly, the authority of parents over their children is transient, whereas that of husband over wife is perma-nent. The authority of parents over their children is greatest when the children are small; as they grow up it lessens; eventually, it ceases--for although adults respect their parents they do not strictly speaking owe them obedience. In contrast to this, the authority of husband over wife is constant and permanent. Fifthly, it would be abnormal for a grown person to obey his parents just as he did when he was a child; and to train anyone to obey in this way all his life would be to prevent him from achieving maturity. But it is per-fectly normal for a mature woman to recognize her husband's authority--indeed, to be unwilling to accept or acknowledge this kind of authority would, generally speaking, be a sign of immaturity--and a married woman achieves maturity and fulfillment partly by schooling herself to give recognition and willing obedi-ence to her husband. Sixthly, in both cases the exercise of authority and the obedience are expressions of love: a man gives himself to his wife partly by assuming responsibili.ty for her welfare, with the authority that that responsibility car-ries with it, and she gives herself to him in accepting him as head; and parents express their love for their children by not letting them run wild but authoritatively con-trolling their development, while children show their loving acceptance of their parents by obeying them. However, conjugal love and parental-filial love are surely different in kind; and so the authority and obedi-ence in which they are expressed are also different in kind. We come, th(n, to this conclusion: in a family there are two radically.different kinds of authority and obedio ence. In previous ages, I suppose, people would have disagreed with this by maintaining that the authority of husband over wife is not essentially different from that of father over children. When fathers retained their authority over their daughters .not until these were twenty-one but until they were married; and when fathers chose husbands for their daughters and then led the girls to the altar where they handed them over to the bridegrooms; then it seemed to everyone that it was from her father that a man obtained his authority over his wife, and so it was supposed that his authority was essentially of the same kind as that which the father had had, and men supposed that their wives and children were all subject to their authority in much the same way. Today, however, disagreement with my thesis is likely to take a very different form, for it is now being said that husbands do not have real authority over their wives, and that wives do not strictly speaking owe obedi-ence to their husbands. It is, says Julian Gosling, very unnatural and misleading to describe in terms of "au-thority" and "obedience" the relationship between hus-gand and wife, given that the wife has the right and duty to enter fully with her husband into discussion of any decisions that are to be made.~ But discussion is in-compatible with authority and obedience only if these are understood in a very restricted way; and since even today a husband is in some. sense the head or leader of the couple, it seems reasonable to continue to talk Of con-jugal authority and obedience--provided that these are sharply distinguished from parental authority and filial obedience. Religious Obedience Let us now put the question: to which of these two kinds of authority is that of the religious superior analo-gous? Well, firstly, a person is a Christian by virtue of his own free option, and he is a religious by virtue of a choice which in a sense is even more free, since there is" no obligation to make it. If these facts were once ob-scured, when people thought they were Catholics be-cause they were born citizens of Catholic countries br members of Catholic families, while some people~ were religious because their parents had given them into religion at an early age, they are now very clear. Secondly, the relationship between religious superior and subject i~ essentially between two adults, since a person taking religious vows is presumed to be mature "Rhetoric and Marriage," Month, January, 1967, p. 29. + + + Authority and Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 607 enough to do so. Moreover, many reli, gious superiors are younger than some of their subjects. Thirdly, the precise reason why in religious orders. there are superiors and subjects is not that the superiors have knowledge and virtue,' while the subjects are stupid and irresponsible. It may well be that on the average those who are superiors are more gifted than those who are subjects, but if all were equally intelligent and prudent it would still be necessary for religious com-munities to have superiors. Fourthly, the state of religious obedience is not tran-sient, extending only over a period of growth, but life-long. 'Fifthly, if the authority of a religious superior were thought of as being analogous to that of a father over his children, then it would be implied that either the subjects ought to live all their lives in a situation which. is abnormal for mature persons, or else that once they have finished their training they can reasonably consider that they have outgrown obedience, strictly so called, and claim a very large measure of independence. If, however, it is thought of as being analogous to conjugal authority, then obedience presents itself as quite con-sonant with personal maturity; indeed, it becomes rea-sonably easy to see how a religious can achieve personal fulfillment and maturity partly by schooling himself to give recognition and willing obedience to a superior. The conclusion seems inescapable: religious authority and obedience are analogous to conjugal authority and obedience rather than to parental authority and filial obedience,a But is this theologically sound? Firstly, it is traditional doctrine that a religious ought to see Christ in his su-perior. But Christ, surely, was Master to the Apostles and He is our Lord, Master, friend, brother or spouse; but He was not their father and He is not ours. It seems, then, entirely in accord with this traditional doctrine to say that a religious superior is lord or master of his subjects in the way that a husband is the head of a couple, and not in the way that a father is in authority over his children.4 However, secondly, it is also tradi-÷ ÷ ÷ .lohn Cowburn, $o~o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 608 s Karl Rahner says that religious obedience is not analogous to that of children because this is (1) based on lack of knowledge and responsi-bility in the child as compared with the parents; (2) temporary, having as its aim its own eventual disappearance; (3) given by nature, not chosen by personal election ("A Basic Ignatian Concept: Some Reflec-tions on Obedience," Woodstock Letters, v. 86 [1957], pp. 293--4). This is exactly what I maintain, but Rahner does not develop an alterna-tive analogy. ~ Dora Olivier Rousseau writes that St. Benedict "would have the subject see Christ himself in his Abbot with whom he lives con-stantly: Christi enim agere vices in monasterio creditur [abbas]" tional to compare a religious superior to a father or mother. Could it be that this was simply because it was assumed that paternal authority is the basic form of authority to which all other authority---including con-jugal authority--is analogous; and if this assumption is modified, so may the traditional comparison be cor-rected? Some authors begin by affirming that all authority is analogous to that of a father over his children, but they then go on to point out how vastly different is the authority of a religious superior from that of a parent and end by virtually denying their original affirmation.5 It seems more consistent to suppose that all authority is analogous either to that of a father over his children or to that of a husband over his wife; one can then deny that there is any analogy between a religious superior and a parent without coming into conflict with one's own supposition. Qualifications Firstly, let it be clearly stated that, as with every analogy, there are differences between the terms under comparison. The husband-wife relationship is sexual, which the superior-subject one is not. A husband has only one wife, whereas a religious superior may have many subjects. In most religious orders, superiors are regularly changed, as husbands are not. And so on. Secondly, to say that religious authority is analogous to that of a husband is not to say all that can be said about it. That is, this article makes a point about re-ligious authority but does not attempt to give a com-plete account of it. Thirdly, in all I have been saying I have been con-sidering the normal case, which is that of a superior and a formed religious, rather than that of a superior and a religious who is still in training. In his early years a religious is perhaps something of a child in his order, learning the elements of religious life, and the au-thority of superiors over him has something of a pa- (Introduction to Obedience [London: Blackfriars, 1953], p. 15). "The abbot," Dora Olivier then goes on to say as if it followed naturally, "ought to be the father of his community." But this, surely, is pre-cisely what does not follow from St. Benedict's principle. ~ For instance, Desmond F. McGoldrick ~ays that the prototype of "dominative power" is that of parents in the home; but he then--and this is what seems to me to be somewhat inconsistent--plays down and even denies any analogy between a parent and a religious superior (Fostering Development [Pittsburgh: Duquesne University, 1965], pp. 77-8); and he says: "The attitude which an enlightened Superior should not use towards the other members of the Community is that of the parent-child relationship. She is not a parent; her subjects are not children" (ibid., p. 151). + + + Authority. and Obedience VOLUME 27, lO68 609 ÷ ÷ John Cowbu~n, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6111 rental character; but, firstly, this is plainly not the case to have in mind when working out a theory of religious authority and obedience, hnd, secondly, the authority of stiperiors over subjects in their years of formation ought even then to be mainly "conjugal" and it ought grad-ually to lose its partly parental character as the subject develops. Practical Implications The thesis maintained above has certain practical implications. Firstly, there is frequently a certain "distance" between parents and children, and some fathers even deliberately maintain a degree of aloofness from their children. Also, some political and military leaders, understanding their authority to be quasi-paternal, have quite deliberately kept aloof from their subjects, and they have incited their subjects to think of them as mysterious, superior beings, to be almost worshipped from afar below, and to be obeyed without question in all things. But since no husband should be aloof from his wife, no religious su-perior should be distant from his subjects or use mys-terious aloofness as a device for obtaining unquestioning obedience. Secondly, parents usually call their children by their Christian names or family nicknames, whereas children call their parents by some respectful form of address such as "Father," "Mother," or abridgements of these; but husbands and wives use reciprocal forms of address towards each other. Also, children are frequently taught to adopt a respectful posture when addressing their parents or other adults, at least when asking for some-thing or "being spoken to"; but wives do not as it were stand to attention when a.ddressing their husbands or being addressed by them. It would, then, seem to be nor-mal for a religious to address his superior in much the same way as he would address the same man if he were not the superior--which in many cases means his Chris-tain name, his name in the order, o~ his nickname if he has one. Thirdly, it frequently happens that parents~if one may put it this way--live more expensively than their children do. They do not, for instance, give to their children as much money to spend .on an outing as they themselves would spend; and if from time to time they entertain friends at restaurants they do not make it pos-sible for their children to'entertain thdir friends at those same restaurants. Similarly, in many armies the officers have a higher standard of living than the men. But husbands and wives share and share alike. Of course, it may sometimes happen that a man has an expensive business lunch while his wife, in town for the day, is having a cheap lunch at a department-store cafeteria; but in general they have the same standard of living. Just so, in a religious community superiors and subjects share and share alike, and superiors do not, because they are superiors, have a higher standard of room furni-ture, dress, means of transport, and so on. Fourthly, parents do not ordinarily bring their chil-dren fully into their consultations, but find it su~cient to give them some sort of explanation of whatever de-cisions have been made which affect them, after they have been made. Children for their part exercise filial obedience by trusting their parents and accepting their decisions without argument. Between husbands and wives, however, full consultation is the rule. It may oc-casionally happen that a man must make some decision without consulting his wife, because he is not given enough time to get in touch with her, because the de-cision involves some information which he is obliged to keep secret even from her, or for some other reason; but such an action must be seen as exceptional and in need of a good reason to justify it. In normal circumstances it would be positively wrong for a husband to take an important decision without genuine consultation with his wife--and this means listening to her really seri-ously- for she has a right to be consulted; and for that matter it would be wrong for her to refuse to enter .into consultation, for he has a right to her participation in the decision-making and the responsibility that it en-tails. Usually the final result is a decision which they feel comes from both of them-~either a wife or a hus-band will often say "We have decided" to do this or that--and yet from first to last it is understood between them that the husband is the head, and that the final word rests with him. He feels this and accepts the re-sponsibility that it carries with it; the wife feels it, positively wants it, and participates in the discussion, which may become an argument, in such a way as never to challenge her husband's position but rather always to maintain him in it. In view of this we may perhaps sum up a good deal that is being said about the need for dialogue between religious superiors and their subjects by saying that in the past religious superiors often acted as if they were parents and as if their subjects were children, whereas the superior-subject relationship ought to be modeled on that of husband and wife. That is, in the past superiors did not bring the majority of their subjects into their consultations and merely announced decisions to their subjects after they were made, sometimes adding a brief explanation; and subjects exercised a filial obedience by + + + ,Authority and° Obedience VOLUME 27, 1968 611 trusting their superiors and accepting without argument the decisions they made. Now, however, it is everywhere being said that the fullest possible sharing of informa-tion ought to be the rule. Also, while there are times when general discussion is impossible and when su-periors are fully justified in acting on their own, it should be seen as exceptional and as only justified when there are good reasons, for superiors to act without prior consultation of their communities.6 That is, the re-sponsibility for the right government of a community and the carrying out of its work should be shared by all its members--and yet it must be clearly understood and willed by all that the superior is the head of the com-munity, with real authority over its members. In conclusion it might be said, firstly, that present developments are sometimes described--by both those who favor them and those who oppose them--as amount-ing to a change from monarchical to democratic govern-ment in religious orders. It seems better, however, to look for analogies in the family rather than in the po-litical arena, because the family is the fundamental ' human society and also because in the family authority and obedience both plainly spring from love, as they do in the Church. Secondly, it might be said that those who think of the religious superior as essentially analo-gous to a father or mother inevitably see in contemporary developments a weakening of religious authority. If, how- .ever~ they can accept the proposition that the relation-ship between superior and subject is not'as a rule anal-ogous to the parent-child relationship but to the husband-wife relationship, then they will see that con-temporary developments are tending to realize the true nature of religious authority and obedience,, not to weaken them. o Particularly significant, perhaps, is the suggestion which is being made in various quarters that information about the finances of a house and even of a province or an entire order should be made avail-. able to all members of the house, province, or order; for parents do not normally tell their children how much money they have or keep them informed about income and expenses, whereas modern husbands do normally share this information with their wives and discuss finan-cial problems with them. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS SISTER M. RUTH FOX, O.S.B. PrOviding an Atmosphere for Personality Growth in the Postulancy Religious life* has long been regarded by many as a mode of living almost wholly distinct from human life. Religious men and women were often in the past looked upon as creatures set apart to live an angelic life, a life free of all that was naturally human. They actually tried to live this way and tried to form the candidates to this life in the same manner. That is, the candidates were put into a mold when they entered the postulancy, and they spent their lifetime assimilating this mold into their very being. This procedure turned out molded religious who were not angelic nor human--nor happy. Today, however, we once again realize the basic Christian belief that our human nature is the greatest natural gift we have. It is to be enhanced, not destroyed, during our temporal life. Therefore, it does not matter what specific work or way of life we undertake, we all have a vocation to be human first of all. We cannot be Christian, much less religious, unless we are first of all human. This realization is especially important for those re-ligious who have the responsibility of "formation" in their communities. These sisters have been entrusted with the growth and maturity of not one but many human personalities. They should .be aware that it is possible in the first years of religious life to completely stunt the natural personality growth of the candidates. * This article was written with the help and supervision of Leo R. Kennedy, Ph.D., Chairman of the Department of Psychology, Creigh-ton University, Omaha. Dr. Kennedy; who has given professional service to many religious communities of men and women, encouraged the publishing of the article in the hopes that the suggestions con-tained in it would be implemented in Sister Formation prggrams. ÷ ÷ ÷ : Sister M. Ruth Fox, O.S.B., is the postulant directress at Sacred Heart Pri-ory; Richardton, North Dakota 58652. VOkUME 27~ 1968 613 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 614 But on the other hand, it is also possible, and impera-tive, to accept the human personality and to help it grow to its fullest capacity.1 In order to help the postulants achieve a mature per-sonality, the directress must first be aware of the char-acteristics of these young women o{ the 1960's. She should also have a kn6wledge of the process of per-sonalit) growth and the means to encourage proper growth. These topics will be discussed in this article. Who are these young women that come to the postu-lancy in 1968-69? Most of them are in their late teens or early twenties; therefore, they belong to a class of our society commonly called young adults. They are no longer adolescents or teen-agers, or at least they are in the last stages of that group. But neither are they adults. So the postulant directress cannot base her guidance of them on either adolescent or adult psychology exclu-sively, but must choose from both. An excellent way to get to know them is to read current articles written by, on, or for young adults. But the articles must be cur-rent. Even to go back to material written in the 1950's could be detrimental, because our young people have different ways of expressing their needs in the 1960's. Though it is true that the basic needs of human nature do not seem to change, there are certain needs that are either more emphasized now or are expressed differently than they were 5, 10, or 100 years ago. In current writing, today's young adults are classified as the New Breed, the Restless Generation, the Hippies, the Now Generation. But no matter what they are called, their main concerns are fulfillment, personalism, honesty, integrity, authenticity, and love.2 They have been raised in an era of prosperity and plenty. When they ask how to find personal worth, they are only told to take another helping from the silver platter. But they see that materialism does not give any meaning to life. They see the American society as a cold, mechanical, abstract, and emotionally mean-ingless place.3 Because society offers them so little that x W. W. Meissner, S.J., Group Dynamics in the Religious Li/e (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame, 1965) presents a thorough discussion of the community's responsibility to foster growth. ~ See John Evoy, S.J., "How Neurotic is the New Breed?" Catholic Mind, v. 64 (December, 1966), pp. 28-42; Daniel Goulding, "The Rest-less Generation," Vital Speeches ol the Day, v. 32 (1966), pp. 506-508; Andrew Greeley, "A New Breed," America, CX, 21 (1964), pp. 706-709 and "A Farewell to the New Breed," America, CXIV, 23 (1966), pp. 801-804; George Herndl, "Time of the Now Generation," Liberal Education, LIII, 2 (1967); "The Hippies: Philosophy of a Subculture," Time, July 7, 1967, pp. 18-22; Robert Jones, "Man of the Year: The Inheritor," Time, January 6, 1967, pp. 18-23. 3See "Meet the Restless Generation," Changing Times, XXI, 6 (June, 1967), pp. 6-11. is meaningful and relevant, they are often forced into cynicism. But they nonetheless wish they could find val-ues, goals, or institutions to which they could commit themselvesA. They reject formal organization, legalism, and out-moded forms and regulations because these seem to stifle individualism. They want to be concerned with persons as persons.5 Perhaps this accounts for their~ emphasis on love and fulfillment. They desperately want to love and be loved for what they are. But they are afraid they are loved only for what they, do. In fact, they have been raised this way: "Do what I tell you, and I will show you I love.you." So they have no real faith in them-selves as persons, no real proof that they are lovable for what they are. Thus they preach love to the world in a frantic effort to find it in themselves and others. Our young people are deeply committed to decency, tolerance, and brotherhood--not as a goal, but as a reality to be lived now. "This generation has no utopia. Its idea is the happening. Let. it be concrete, let it be vivid, let it be personal. Let it be nowl" n Because tomorrow is so unsure and ever changing, today must be lived to the fullest. Living and experiencing cannot b.e postponed. It must be made to happen now. In summary then, the 1968-69 postulant is a member of the Now Generation who comes to the convent not to be "formed into a religious; she comes to be fulfilled as a person." 7 The goal of fulfillment need not frighten the postu-lant directress if she is aware of the process of per-sonality growth. The fundamental theory that should dominate the planning of formation (or fulfillment) is that the growth and development of the candidate must come from within the person. Growth cannot be di-rected from the outside because each individual must develop in terms of his own inner capacities. "The a~- tempt to produce growth by putting man into a mold or demanding conformity is based on a total misunder-standing of man, of his nature and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit. It is sacrificing the person for the con-venience of the system; it is the mechanizing of man. It is a basic lack of respect for the mystery of the human person." 8 If growth and development are individual inner proc- 4 A good presentation of what youth is looking for is found in Erik Erikson, ed., The Challenge of Youth (New York: Doubleday, 1965). ~ Consult the articles by Andrew Greeley mentioned above. o Jones, p. 20. 7 Sister Miriam Rooney, O.P., "The New Breed Enters the Con-vent," C~;oss and Crown, v. 16 (1964), 397. s Paul D'Arcy and Eugene Kennedy, The Genius o] the Apostolate (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965) p. 5. + ÷ ÷ P o stul ancy " . . VOLUME 27, 1968 615 esses, what is the role of the postulant directress? She must provide the atmosphere in which the maximum growth and development are possible. To do this, she must first of all be aware of the psychological process called ego identity. Although this is a lifelong process in which the self links the past, present, and future into one person, there is a crisis of identity which occurs duri.ng late adolescence. At this time the young person realizes he is leaving the security of childhood and entering the uncertainties of young adulthood. He is wavering be-tween what he was and what he hopes to be.a Thus the postulant is seeking to clarify her understanding of who she is and what her role is to be. She is seeking for a sense of self and self-acceptance. "The adolescent hopes to forge for himself a perspective and direction, to achieve an effective integration out of the remnants of his childhood and the hopes of his anticipated adult-hood. Failure to resolve this crisis can result in neurosis, psychosis, or delinquent behavior." x0 To help the postulant through this identity crisis, the directress must provide her with acceptance and un-derstanding. Experiencing warm acceptance by impor-tant people in one's life is a prerequisite for knowing and accepting oneself. Obviously the important person in the postulant's life is her directress. So if the postu-lant is to grow, she must know she is loved by her superior. This means that the directress must be warm and loving, not just toward the group but toward each individual in the group. She must take each one into her lieart and really love her. She must be so warm and ac-cepting that the postulant would feel free to confide in her all that she was, is, and hopes to be. Each postulant should realize that she would be loved no matter how many unlovable things she may have done or will do. It is in this atmosphere that the girl can admit and accept her feelings and failures. A person who accepts him-self is also secure enough to accept others. So when each postulant can accept herself and the other postulants, a Christian community of love is. Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 616 ~ A complete explanation of the identity process is found in Erik Erikson, lnsight and Responsibility (New York: Norton, 1964) and "Identity and the Life Cycle," Psychological Issues, v. I (New York: International Universities Press, 1959), pp. 111-117, by the same au-thor. The application of the process to religious life is found in Walter DeBont, O.P., "Identity Crisis and the Male Novice," Rrw~w roR RELigiOUS, v. 21 (1962), pp. 104-128; Barry McLaughlin, S.J., Nature, Grace, and Religious Development (Westminster: Newman, 1964); and Sister Thomas More, C.S.J., "Self Identification and Religious Li~e," in The Retreat Master Faces the Nun in the Modern World, ed. John Powell and others (St. MarTs, Kansas: St. Mary's College, 1965). ~ McLaughlin, p. $4. formed. Having experienced a sense of love and security in the postulancy, the young woman is better prepared to be an apostle of love. Not only should the directress be warm and loving, but the very surroundings in the convent should reflect this feminine warmth. Why can't postulancies (and con-vents) look homey? Warmth and growth would be en-couraged by such things as colorful drapes on the windows; a vase of flowers on the table, pictures '(not just saints!) on the wall, end tables cluttered with cur-rent magazines and newspapers, family photographs on the piano, a knitting bag on the floor. If we have nor-mal healthy conditions, we will. foster normal healthy growth. Many times, normal people leave our convents because they cannot lead abnormal lives in abnormal living conditions. Let's keep the normal ones111 In an atmosphere of warmth and affection, the postu-lant will feel more free to be herself, and her per-sonality will thus grow in a healthful manner. To make her growth and establishment of identity easier, the directress should realize another difficulty that the postu-lant faces. If the girl experienced normal adolescent de-velopment, she probably established a certain sense of identity before her entrance into the convent. She had a secure place in her family and probably had definite responsibilities to fulfill at home. She possessed ~a certain status in her peer group and perhaps held offices of importance in her high school or college. But in entering the religious community, all these former securities and relationships are either greatly modified or broken en-tirely. She is no longer able to live her identity in the same way. Therefore, to give her a sense of security and continuity, couldn't these healthy relationships be al-lowed to continue? The postulant's family was the main environment for her personality growth since birth. Should it suddenly be .discarded as if it were no longer of value? "The breakdown of family ties magnifies the identity crisis." 12 Thus the postulant's family should feel free and welcome to visit her anytime. Frequent letters should be en-couraged. Perhaps she could go home for weddings, graduations, anniversaries, and an occasional weekend. There is no apparent reason for cutting off all ties with her former friends either. Letters should be allowed to come and go without inspection or limitation. As the postulant gets involved with college and new friend- ~ See Eugene Kenned)', M.M., "Differentiated Discipline in the Seminary," National Catholic Education Association Bulletin, LX, 1 (August, 1964), pp. 79--89. m Joseph Simmons, C.S.C., "The Catholic College Student: His War against Protection," Ave Maria, CIV, 16 (October 15, 1966), p. 6. 4. 4- Postulancy VOLUME 27, 1968 617 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister M. Ruth REVIEW FOR REI;IGIOUS 618 ships, the letters will gradually decrease. Perhaps rthe postulant's closest friends could spend a weekend with her at the convent. (This would not only .be good for ,her, but also for the convent's public relations program.) Discarding uniforms for the postulants might also favor personality growth. If the postulant continues ¯ wearing' the same dresses she wore before entrance, she has another source of security. At a time when many former securities are left behind, this will give her a sense of identity with her past. It might also help to abolish the notion that "the habit makes the nun." Such a notion is harmful because the postulant may ex-pect the uniform to produce automatic changes in her behavior. She is thus disappointed in herself and in the life when she discovers that she remains the same per-son. Perhaps there is a reason for the donning of a habit at the time of reception into the ,novitiate or at profes-sion of vows. But it seems that at this time of identity crisis, the postulant would be "more secure in her own clothing. Obedience also poses a problem for the directress and the postulants. Today's youth feel that obedience de-stroys their freedom and perhaps smothers their in-dividual identity. They will ordinarily not refuse to obey; but before carrying out a command, they want to sit down and discuss th~ "why" of it with the superior. This is not to be taken as disrespect or unwillingness to obey. They only wish to obey in a more human manner by understanding what they are doing.13 When they un-derstand, they are able to commit themselves to the deed in a responsible manner. If the directress can find no r~asonable answer to the postulant's question, "Why should I~do this?" perhaps it should not be done. Even occasional rebellion on the part of an individual may be a healthy assertion of self. Though often referred to as obedience, strict ad-herence to rules and schedules is frequently an escape from responsible, decision making. Directresses should provide as many opportunities as possible for the postu-lants to make their own decisions. It is difficult to see how this can be accomplished if every minute of the day is scheduled for the girls. Other college girls of their age devise their own schedules. They decide the times to study, to write letters, to ~lean their rooms, to retire. A postulant- will soon learn that if she spends all her study time reading novels or watching TV, she will begin to fail in her college classes. She learns this through per-sonal expgrience the hard way. But this is much more ~ See Stafford Poole, C.M., "The New Breed and the Old Semi-nary," Jubilee, XIII, 2 (June, 1965), pp. 8-13. effective in producing healthy growth in responsibility than if she were simply told the first night in the con-vent: "We study from 8:00 to I0:00 every night." The minimizing of rules and scheduled living is not a relaxation. It is just putting responsibility where it be-longs, on the person. It is changing enforced discipline to self-discipline. Related to rules and schedules is the assignment of household chores such as cleani.ng, ironing, and washing dishes. It is certainly profitable for all members of a community to participate in keeping house. These tasks should be looked upon as means of serving the other members o[ the community. Again, as much initiative as possible should be left to the girls in deciding when and how to do the work. They could also decide among themselves who would do what, and how often they wanted to exchange tasks. These are just a few of the small but important ways in which postulants can be encouraged to grow in maturity. "When we take youngsters out of high school who are still adolescents--a rebellious stage, still longing for adult status--and never let them get a taste of what it means to be an adult, what can we expect but that they will be unhappy subjects." 14 Too often, our candi-dates are not only kept in adolescence, but are even thrown back to childhood. We can help them grow into adulthood simply by giving them trust and responsi-bility. 15 However, there is really not much initiative and re-sponsibility involved in pushing a broom, and a young woman's need for self-actualization is not met in this way. College girls of our day see themselves as creative and productive, and they have great social concern.1~ They want challenging and difficult work with little intervention from others. If they are not stimulated in this direction, they may withdraw into themselves or develop other signs of maladjustment. If we wish to have zealous sisters, we must not let this youthful enthusiasm of the postulant wither while she is busy writing term papers and wiping dishes. Since she is a member of the Now Generation, she wants to do something meaningful for others now. She wants to undertake a task where there is a definite need for her services and self. In doing a~ John Evoy, S.J., and Van Cristoph, S.J., Personality Development in the Religious LiIe (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1963), p. 183. an A very helpful book is Psychological Aspects of Spiritual Develop-ment, Michael O'Brien and Raymond Steimel, ed., (Washington: Catholic University of America Press, 1964). a0 See Elizabeth Monroe Drews, "Counseling for Self-actualization in Gifted Girls and Young Women," Journal of Counseling Psy-chology, XII, 2 (Summer, 1965), pp. 167-175. ÷ ÷ ÷ P ostulancy VOLUME 27, 1968 619 Sister M. ~ Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 620 a task in which she i~ needed, the young woman comes to 'see her own personal worth. "Every man needs to know that he has an intrinsic' value, that he is im-portant, worthwhile." lz It often happens in the religious life that people who want to do great things are de-mobilized. But it should be realized that it is a sign of health if a person longs to do something important with his life.is Since postulants are expected to be normal young women, they should be allowed to fulfill this normal need by doing something meaningful for others. Op-portunities within the convent can be found to satisfy some of this need. The older sisters, especially those in the infirmary, need and appreciate the friendship of youth. And youth, in turn, can profit greatly from the wisdom and experience of age. The postulants should be permitted the enrichment of their personalities by close association with all the other members of the com-munity. A meaningful apostolate for action should also be sought outside the convent. Some areas of investigation might be the parish CCD program, high school or young adult discussion clubs, Newman Club, homes for the aged, hospitals, schools, and so forth. Of course, these are only temporary apostolates, but they will satisfy the need for meaningful action now. Howevdr, the postulant must also be well aware of the !ongterm goal toward which she is working. That is, she should have some idea of her future status in the com-munity so that she sees her future role in the group as an important one, one that is worthwhile waiting for. In the fulfillment of self-enjoined and community-appointed apostolates, the postulant will reveal her psy-chological maturity. The directress should watch for manifestations of inferidrity feelings, egotism, undue competitiveness, hbstility, rigidity, and a false sense of reality.~9 Because the girls are not conforming to rigid standards of performance, their personal strengths and weaknesses will appear. The directress can then counsel them accordingly and either help them to grow toward maturity or to realize that they would find greater ful-fillment in another way of life. One other means of providing an atmosphere favor-able to personality growth will be mentioned. Postu-lants, like other normal young women, negd to be free to agsociate with young people of their own age who are 1~Thomas Dubay, S.M., "Psychological Needs in the Religious Context," REvmw FOR Ra~LIGXOUS, V. 21 (1962), p. 525. ~s Refer' to the article by Eugene Kennedy noted above. ~ Trafford Maher, s.J., Lest We Build on Sand, (St. Louis: Catholic Hospital Association, 1962), pp. 203-208. not necessarily in the religious state. Means should some-how be provided for them to meet and make friends out-side the convent on an intellectual and social level. They will grow through these new interpersonal relationships, for in growing concerned and interested in others, there is a loss of self-centeredness. In listening to the prob-lems of a new college girl friend, the postulant may come to appreciate her own life more. And in relating to a boy of her own age, she will grow in maturity and womanliness. Yes, the postulant should have contact with boys. She grew up amid boys in her family, neighborhood,: and school. She hopefully had the experience of dating. Now after she enters the convent, why should the sight of a person of the opposite sex be denied her? Will the sight of a boy suddenly be harmful to her? It would be so much healthier if she could continue to relate to young men of her own age especially. In relating to them, she grows in femininity, which is very important to her as a young woman. If there is a danger to chastity, if the postulant is not able to control her sexual drives, then it is certainly best for her and for the community to find this out soon. How sad it is for women who have taken vows to discover they cannot speak to a man on the school faculty or a doctor on the staff without becom-ing either rigid and afraid or sexually stimulated. To permit these healthful relationships with other young people, the postulants could be permitted tO at-tend (sometimes without their directress) Newman Club gatherings, interfaith meetings, weekend retreats, and an occasional evening concert or drama. Healthful personality growth in the convent does not just happen. The proper atmosphere has to be prepared and sustained. This is the task of the postulant di-rectress. She must know the characteristics and needs of the young women she is guiding. She must accept and love them unconditionally and provide them with op-portunities for growth in love, responsibility, and womanliness. "Every state in life is meant to lead its followers to a rich personality development together with (and we might add because of) their achievement of the beatific vision of the divine Trinity." ~0 SUPPLEMENTARY ]~IBLIOGRAPHY Allport, Gordon. Pattern and Growth in Personality. New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1961. Cameron, Norman. Personality Development and Psychopathol-ogy: A Dynamic Approach. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1963. Edward Carney, OSFS. "The Seminary Rule," National Catholic ~0 Dubay, p. 523. ÷ ÷ Pos~laney VOLUME 27, 1%8 62] Education Association Bulletin, LXIII, 1 (August, 1966), 108-114. D'Arcy, Paul."'Differentlated Seminary Discipline," NCEA Bul-letin, LX, 1 (August, 1964), 85-91. Dignan, Sister Howard, B.V.M. "Identity and Change in Re-ligious Life," RrvIEw fOR RV.LICIOUS, XXV, 4 (July, 1966), 669-677. Dondero, Autin, F.S.C. No Borrowed Light: Mental Health for Religious. Milwaukee: Bruce, 1965. Frick, Willard. "Healthy Interpersonal Relationships'. an Ex-ploratory Study," Journal of Individual Psychology, XXIII, 1 (May, 1967), 59-66. Gallen, Joseph, s.J., "Femininity and Spirituality," REVIEW for RrL~G~OUS, XX, 4 (July, 1964), 237-256. Goldberg, Arthur. "J.uvenatrics'. Study of Prolonged Adoles-cence," The Cleartng House, XLI, 5 (December, 1966), 218- 222. Hargadon, Kevin, F.S.C. "Psychological Requirement for Re-ligious Vocation," National Catholic Guidance Conference Journal, X, 4 (Summer, 1966), 271-279. Huyghe, Gerard. Tension and Change: The Problems of Re-ligious Orders Today. Westminster: Newman, 1966. McKinney, Fred. Psychology o[ Personal ~ld]ustment. New York: Wiley, 1941. Maher, Trafford, S.J. Self--.4 Measureless Sea (Cou.nseling: Theory and Practice). St. Louis: Catholic Hospital Associa-tion, 1966. Regan, Francis. "Authority and Obedience in Seminary Train-ing," NCE/1 Bulletin, LXIII, 1 (August, 1966), 103-107. Rogers, Carl. On Becoming a Person. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1960. Schneiders, Alexander. "Adolescence and the Challenge of Ma-turity," National Catholic Guidance ConIerence Journal, X, 2 (Winter, 1966), 109-117. Simmons, Joseph, C.S.C. "Seminary as Institution," Catholic Education Review, LXIV, 26 (February 1966), 97-105. Stafford, John, C.S.V. "The Religious Rule and Psychological Development," Rrvxv.w voR R~ioIo~s, XXV, 2 (March, 1966), 294-304. Van Kaam, Adrian. Personality Fulfillment in the Religious Life. ~.Vilkes-Barre: Dimension Books, 1967. Walters, Sister Annette, S.C.J. "Attitudes, Values, and Motiva-tional Systems of the American Catholic Woman College Student," Catholic Psychological Record, IV, 1 (Spring, 1966), 20-34. Wilson, C. R. "Self-Acceptance and Religious Security," R~vi~w vo~ R~Lxcxoos, XXI, 6 (November, 1962), 555-559. 4- 4- $i~t~r M." Ruth REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Proper Juridical Articles of.Constitutions In the article, "Constitutions without Canons," REw~.w fOR R~.LIOIOUS, May, 1968, the purpose was to eliminate as far as possible the canons or laws of the Church from the constitutions of congregations of sisters and brothers. The result would be that the constitutions would almost completely consist of laws proper to the particular institute, which is the nature and definition of constitntions. These proper juridical laws are n~cessary determinations of matters that are undetermined in canon law or' matters over and above the norms of canon law. It was also advised in the same article that all detailed matters now found in constitutions should be placed in the custom book or in a similar book. The present article lists in 'the first section the juridical topics of proper law that should be in the constitutions, and in the second section gives added matters that I now believe should also be placed in the custom book, that is, matters over and above those put in the custom book in the "Constitutions Without Canons" article. The number in parenthesis after each topic is that of the corresponding article in "Typical Constitutions of Lay Religious Congregations," RrwEw for REL~C~OUS, 25 (1966), 361--~57. The vote of a council is mentioned in the first sec-tion for the purpose of information, but we recom-mended in the "Constitutions without Canons" article that all votes of councils be confined to lists in the cus-tom book. The listing of the matters proper to each institute will also enable all o[ these to make a more accurate study of the juridical matters that should constitute the proper law of an institute. This can result ultimately at least in the increase,or decrease o[ the matters listed in this article. A close study of this aspect was not too easy ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Gallen, $.J.," writes ~rom St. Joseph's Church; ~1 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Penn-sylvania VOLUME 27, 1968 in the past due to the large number of canons contained in the constitutions. I. MATTERS THAT MUST BE l~TAINED IN THE CONSTITUTIONS ]oseph F. Gallen, s.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1. General purpose (1) 2. Special purpose (2) 3. Authorization necessary [or a change in the special purpose or in the particular works (3-4) 4. Classes of members (5)1 5. Authorization necessary for a change in the reli-gious habit (16) 6. Superior competent to admit to the postulancy and any vote of a council (38)2 7. Duration of postulancy beyond six months (40) 8. Higher superior competent' to prolong the postu-lancy and any vote of a council (40); to abbreviate a postulancy longer than six months and any vote of a council (40)3 9, Superior competent to dismiss a postulant and any vote of a council (38)4 1 "Unless the state of affairs suggests otherwise, care must be taken to produce in women's communities a single category of sisters" (Ab-bott- Gallagher, The Documents oI Vatican li [paperback edition], 478). * The Code of Canon Law contains no legislation concerning the superior competent to admit to the postulancy. The matter is there-fore governed by the particular constitutions. In the modern practice of the Holy See the mother general has the right of admission when the congregation is not divided into provinces; if such a division exists, this right is given to the higher superiors or to the mother general for the entire congregation and to the mothers provincial for their own provinces. In the latter type of congregation the right is sometimes given only to the mother general. A very small number of congregations demand the consultative vote of the respective council and an equally small number prescribe a deliberative vote. * Canon 539, § 2, gives the right of prolonging the postulancy to higher superiors. In the constitutions the higher superior who has the right of admission is also the one who has the right of prolonga-tion. Therefore, this matter was explained in the preceding note, and the statements there made on the consultative' and deliberative vote are also applicable here. Recent constitutiofis permit the mother general, provincial, or higher superiors to abbreviate a postulancy longer than six months provided a postulancy of six months is preserved. At times no vote, th( consultative, or even the deliberative vote o[ the respective council has been prescribed for the abbreviation (REVIEW for RELI¢IOVS, 21 [1962], 409). * In the practice o[ the Sacred Congregation of Religious, the dis-missal of postulants is reserved in the same manner as admission to higher superiors. Some constitutions demand a consultative vote of the council for dismissal even though no vote was required for ad-mission. A few constitutions give a local superior the right of dis-missing a postulant in an urgent case. I0. Higher superior competent to admit to the novice-ship and vote of a council (44)5 11. Authority competen.t for the establishment or transfer of a novitiate (46) 12. Necessity or advisability of a novitiate in each province (47)° 13. Duration of a noviceship beyond a year (50)7 14. Authority competent to dispense from the second year of noviceship (50) 15. Manner of beginning the noviceship (52) 16. Superior competent for the dismissal of a novice and any vote of a council (67)s "In virtue of canon 543 admission to the noviceship appertains to a higher superior, and consequently to the mother general or provincial in a centralized institute, to the superior of a monastery of nuns, and to the mother superior in a congregation that has a similar monastic structure. The same canon demands that the council or chapter have a vote in this admission. The particular constitutions decide whether the council or the chapter has the vote. In centralized institutes the council will always have the vote; in monasteries of nuns and insti. tutes of similar structure the chapter has the vote, but there can be also a previous vote of the council. It is likewise left to the constitu-tions to determine whether this vote of the council or chapter is deliberative or consultative. According to the ordinary practice of the Sacred Congregation the vote is deliberative, but in a few congre-gations it is only consultative. Congregations divided into provinces can have variations. The competent higher superior is frequently the mother provincial with the deliberative vote of her council, but often this must be supple-mented by the confirmation, approval, or consent'of the mother general either alone or with the deliberative or consultative vote of the general council. In other constitutions admission appertains to the mother general or the higher superior with the deliberative or consultative vote of the council, and, finally, in some institutes the mother provincial with the deliberative vote of her council merely proposes the admission to the mother general, who admits with the deliberative vote of her council. ~ Canon law does not oblige each province to have its own novitb ate, but the constitutions impose this obligation either absolutely or as far as it is possible. The Normae of 1901 stated that it was appro-priate for each province to have its own novitiate (n. 303). ¢ Canon 555, § 2, states that a period beyond a year demanded for the noviceship by the particular constitutions is not required for validity unless this is expressly stated in the constitutions. In practice it is required only for liceity. This longer period is practically always two years, but a few institutes have a noviceship of eighteen months. S According to canon'571, § 1, the competent authority for the dismissal of a novice is the superior or the chapter according to the constitutions. In the practice of the Sacred Congregation, the dis-missal of a novice is reserved to higher superiors with the vote of the council, which is more frequently consultative than deliberative. In congregations without provinces, this higher superior is the mother general. In congregations with provinces, the right is more frequently reserved to the mother general, but in some institutes it is given to the higher superior or the mother provincial. When the right is reserved to the mother general, the constitutions at times enact that the mother provincial and her council are to be con-sulted. Constitutions VOLUME 27, 1968 ÷ ÷ ÷ SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 17. Superior competent for the prolongation of the noviceship and any vote of a council (68)9 18. Duration. of temporary vows beyond three years; length of each temporary profession, for example, one of three, another of two years, or vice versa; five annual professions, and so forth (72) 19. Higher superior competent to admit to the pro-fessions, to prolong temporary profession, and vote of a council (73)1° ~ Canon 571, § 2, gives the right of prolongation of the noviceship to higher superiors but does not prescribe any vote of the council. Great variety is found in this matter in constitutions. In congregations without provinces, the right appertains to the mother general. The constitutions often demand no vote but in some the consultative and less frequently the deliberative vote of the council is prescribed. In congregations divided into provinces, the right of prolongation is given to the higher superior or the mother general, alone or with the consultative or deliberative vote of the respective council. 10 In virtue of canon 543, only a higher superior is competent to admit to any religious profession, whether temporary (first, renewal, or prolongation), or perpetual (solemn or simple). The competent higher superior is the mother superior in a congregation that has the monastic'structure and the mother general in a~centralized congrega-tion that is not divided into pr6vinces. In a congregation that has provinces, the constitutions determine whether the one admitting is the mother general or the mother provincial. Such constitutions fre-quently reserve the admissions to all professions to the mother gen-eral. This right is often given also to the mother provincial or higher superiors. Frequently also, and especially for perpetual profession, the mother provincial admits but her admission mnst be confirmed by the mother general. In a few institutes, at least sonde admissions ap-pertain to the mother general and her council but the request for the admission is made by the mother provincial with her council, for example, with the deliberative vote of this council for admiss!on to first temporary profession. If the constitutions do not determine the legitimate higher superior for the prolongation of temporary vows (c. 574, § 2), this appertains to the higher superior who has the right of admitting to either temporary or perpetual profession, but more probably to the latter when the higher superior for both of these admissions is not the same in the law of the constitutions. Canon 543 demands that there be a vote of the council or chapter, without specifying whether the vote is to be deliberative or consulta-tive, for admission to first temporary profession and perpetual pro-fession, whether simple 9r solemn, but not for the renewal of tem-porary vows nor for the prolongation of temporary profession. Canon 575, § 2, demands that the vote for the first temporary profession be deliberative, which is also to be extended to institutes in which the first profession is perpetual by privilege. The same canon appears to prescribe that the vote for the perpetual profession, simple or solemn, be only consultative; but the Holy See in approving consti-tutions interprets the canon as permitting a deliberative vote. There-fore, the Code of Canon Law permits either a consultative or delibera-tive vote for perpetual profession. In centralized congregations the council of the competent higher superior always has the vote. In congregations that have the monastic structure, the chapter has the vote; but there can also be a previous vote of the council. In the constitutions of centralized congregations: (1) the vote of the council.for the first temporary prgfession must be deliberative by reason of canon 575, § 2; (2) for renewals of temporary professions the constitutions commonly prescribe the consultative 20. Superior competent to permit an anticipated re-newal of temporary vows and any vote of a council (78)11 21. Authority competent to dispense from duration of temporary vows beyond three years (74) 22. Superior competent to receive the vows (74) 23. Formula of professions (75) 24. Definition of the vow of poverty (82) 25. Prescription on common life with regard to pov-erty (93) 26. Definition of the vow of chastity (94) 27. Definition of the vow of obedience (95-6, 100) 28. Obligation to obey constitutions and other orders of superiors (99) 29. Superior competent to exclude from renewing temporary vows or from making perpetual profession and any vote of a council (152)t-° 30. (Diocesan) A petition for dismissal of a professed of temporary vows must be made by the mother general and any vote of her council (155)la 31. Previous judgment on the incorrigibility and dis-missal of a. professed of perpetual vows and vote of coun-cil (158)a4 32. Superior competent for the declaration of fact in an automatic dismissal and vote of council (161)15 vote; (3) for the prolongation of temporary vows, the constitutions more frequently demand no vote but some require the consultative and a few the deliberative vote; (4) for perpetual profession the vote prescribed by the constitutions is practically always consultative. a According to canon 577, § 2, an anticipation as such may be per-mitted by any superior, whether a higher or minor local. However, this right is only to admit an anticipation. Since the renewal is a juridical profession, all the requisites of such a profession must be observed, and therefore the admission must be made by the compe-tent higher superior according to the constitutions, as explained in the preceding note. In constitutions an anticipation is usually re-served to a higher superior or to a particular higher superior. ~ Canon 637 leaves to the constitutions the determination of the superior competent for exclusion. The constitutions usually assign this right to the superior general with the consultative vote of her couucil, but a few demand the deliberative vote. A small number of constitutions give this power to the provincial or higher superiors cither alone or with the consultative or, less frequently, the delibera-tive vote of the council (REvmw FOR RELIGIOUS, 25 [1966], 391). ~ In a diocesan congregation the superior general will present the petition for a dismissal to the local ordinary, but the constitutions will frequently require the consultative or deliberative vote of her council for such a petition (REVIEW fOR RELmtOUS, 16 [1957], 272). x, Canon law does not clearly demand the intervention of the mother general nor of her council in the dismissal of a professed of perpetual vows. However, from analogy with the law on the dismis-sal of religious men of perpetual vows and the constant practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in the approval of constitutions, the dismissal of a professed woman of perpetual vows in both pon-tifical and diocesan congregations is to be referred to the mot

Issue 55.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1996. ; lived experience of all who find that the churcfl's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are :meant to be informative, practical, or inspirational, written from a theological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 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 St. Bernadetie Convent ° 76 University Blvd. East ° Silver Spring, MI) 20901 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ I)uluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1996 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy an}, ~naterial (articles, poe,ns, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyrigh~ 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. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MARCH/APRIL 1996 * VOLUME55 ¯ NUMBER2 contents 118 symposium - part I Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal: Will Good Intentions Suffice? Miriam Ukeritis CSJ provides some examples of actions taken by various religious congregations in their renewal and makes some evaluative reflections. 133 143 seeking God The Urban Hermit: Monastic Life in the City Theresa Mancuso describes the life of an urban hermit as integrating the contemplative life of the poustinia with the marketplace where a living is earned. Enclosed in the Mystery of Jesus Marie Beha OSC explores various aspects of enclosure as part of the Christian mystery into which we all are invited. Review for Religious 159 171 growing old Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging Daniel J. Harrington SJ offers reflections on a few biblical texts which contribute to constructing a theology and spirituality for us as we grow old as people of Christian faith. On Selling the Chalices: Vincent de Paul on Aging Robert P. Maloney CM shares the insights and feelings of Vincent de Paul in response to the process of aging. 185 report U.S. Hispanic Catholics: Trends and Works 1995 Kenneth G. Davis OFMConv and Eduardo C. Fern~indez SJ present a panoramic of the year's events within the U.S. Hispanic Catholic community. departments 116 Prisms 204 Canonical Counsel: Authority in Ingtitutes of Consecrated Life 209 Book Reviews March-April 1996 prisms Boundaries are a part of life. We think of how boundaries identify our countries and our states, our soccer fields and our tennis courts. Behavior to be proper and humor to be appreciated observe boundaries. There are time boundaries for speeches to be effective and financial limits for buying and selling. Sometimes we see boundaries through a negative fil-ter. We talk about how we do not want to feel bound in any way since that would close off possible opportunities for ourselves. Boundaries., we say, are restrictions on our human potential and freedom. Yet as a counterpoint we also experience that when cancer breaks down boundaries and has metastasized, life becomes diminished and threat-ened. So too, when people do not acknowledge certain boundaries to their own stamina, they can have a break-down or become sick. Although sometimes appearing to us to be restrictive, boundaries, then, can be appreciated in a life system for the part they play in maintaining good health and vibrant life. Witness the negative results when we humans do not observe boundaries in our polluting of streams and oceans, in our poisoning the atmosphere through chemical emissions, and in our destroying world weather patterns through the deforesting in the Amazon basin. Sometimes people, including women and men reli-gious, view religious life through the filter of boundaries which restrict. Whether it be the observance of the tra-ditional evangelical counsels of chastity, pove(ty, and obe-dience, the acceptance of a life in common, or the practice of enclosure, religious life has always had boundaries. But Review for Religious through an ecological perspective-- that ,is, religious life identi-fied as a life system--we can come to a fresh appreciation of the vital quality of the boundaries we find in it. T6day when membership inclusion for many religious con-gregations seems to eliminate all boundaries, we could ask our-selves whether in a life-system model this movement is going towards health. When there are no boundaries to the kinds of ministries taken on by members of a congregation and no bound-aries to what constitutes a life together, we might wonder whether a deadly cancer may likely enough be coursing through a life sys-tem. Since w~ are so conscious today of environmental and eco-logical concerns with a scientific realism never before possible, we need to apply a similar kind of care to religious life identified as an ecological system. Then our acceptance of certain boundaries will be situated within the .context of health and vitality. Our authors in this issue talk in one: way or another about boundaries. Evangelical counsels, community life, and the enclo-sure associated with contemplative life are all boundaries--bound-aries connected with a furtherance of life. Aging, tog, is a boundary~difficult to face for active, service-oriented people--but aging is seen by faith as another stage in our growing in Christ. Yet doubts, even so, assail us: How can the restrictions of aging, a kind of final boundary of human life, be seen as a growing? The church observance of the Lenten and Easter seasons invites us always to contemplate the growth potential of all the boundaries of human life portrayed in Jesus' paschal mystery. Jesus makes even death no longer a limitation but a boundary that issues into life. We see that Jesus does not take away the boundary of death, but rather allows it--in daily actions and in our final human act--to become the key to our entering into his own paschal mystery, culminating in new and surprising life. Our desire to identify with this paschal mystery as a way of daily living leads us to view all boundaries through the perspective of the risen Jesus. Boundaries, it seems, bring home to us how much we find life as Easter people. David L. Fleming SJ Marcb-April 1996 MIRIAM D. UKERITIS Religious Life'.s Ongoing Renewal: Will Good Intentions Suffice? symposium part Since the publication of the FORUS study, several con-gregations have taken the time to assess their efforts at renewal and plan seriously for their futures.1 This article reviews some of these efforts and identifies areas that con-tinue to require attention. Background Thirty years ago the Decree on the Adaptation and Renewal of the Religious Life (Perfectae caritatis, 1965) urged a process of renewal that would include returning constantly both to the sources of all Christian life and to the original spirit of one's institute and 'also adapting to the changed conditions of our time (PC §2). The council fathers said that the manner of living, praying, and work-ing should everywhere--especially in mission territories-- be suitably adapted to the modern physical and psychological circumstances of the members and also, as required by the nature of each institute, to the necessi-ties of the apostolate and to cultural, social, and economic Miriam Ukeritis csJ collaborated with David Nygren CM in producing the study "The Future of Religious Orders in the United States" (FORUS). The current article is one of four preo ¯ sentations made at an October 1995 symposium, "Religious Life 30 Years Later: Is This What Vatican II Intended?" held at the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in Wernersville, Pennsylvania. Correspondence with Miriam Ukeritis should be addressed: De Paul University;' Center for Applied Social Research; 2219 North Kenmore Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60614. Review.[br Religious demands (§3). Considering the various interpretations of this mandate and the various implementations and results, there can be little wonder that this symposium commemorating Perfectae caritatis is subtitled, "Is This What Vatican II Intended?-2 This question of the council's intent was not a new one. Echoes of such wonderment were heard almost as soon as the period of experimentation began. Many books and articles have appeared, reflecting on the themes of renewing, reweaving, refounding, reclaiming, restructuring, reshaping, rekindling, reen-ergizing, and recreating religious life. Simultaneously, many signs of decline and diminishment have marked the landscape of reli-gious orders in the United States. As early as 1988, in an effort to address this issue, Lilly Endowment funded a three-year study to investigate these phenomena. The researchers, themselves mem-bers of religious orders and trained in the field of psychology, made public their findings in The Future of Religious Orders in the United States (FORUS) report. Almost immediately after its release in mid September 1992, headlines in the secular press proclaimed that "Catholic orders need dramatic change to survive" (New York Times 9/20/92), "Catholic orders shunning poor" (Chicago Tribune 9/16/92), "Roman Catholic orders in decline" (Washington Post 9/26/92), "Study sees Catholic orders losing their way" (Boston Globe 9/16/92), and "Religious orders dying out; hospitals, schools may suffer" (Sunday Denver Post 9/27/92). These reports roused both the interest and the ire of many. Some thought the study an accurate reflection of the state of religious life twenty-five years after Vatican Council II, while others saw it as an unnecessarily negative assessment of religious life's efforts at renewal. In light of the controversy surrounding the establish-ment of the Council of Major Superiors of Women Religious only a few months before the publication of the FORUS findings, this sensitivity, particularly among apostolic women religious, is quite understandable. Too, the Leadership Conference of Women Religious had recently completed Threads for the Loom, its study of membership, some of whose results seemed to be contradicted by the FORUS findings.3 As serious scholars of religion and members-at-large of reli-gious orders pursued a more thorough reading of the results, and as others' reactions and interpretations began to appear in Catholic periodicals and internal newsletters, consensus emerged concerning the significance of the FORUS study.4 One of the most helpful ele- March-April 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal ments of the report was the summary chart, of factors shaping the future of religious life (Figure 1). This chart listed results of the study in a manner that provided agendas for many congregations, chapters, formation conferences, and planning endeavors. For that reason and because of its summary nature, this paper will refer to it in reflecting on how congregations have tried to integrate the research findings into their ongoing efforts at renewal. The diagram takes the form of a force field, a construct com-mon to social scientists. The center oval represents the current state while that on the far right depicts the desired future state. In this project it was defined as "Fidelity .to Purpose and Responsiveness to Absolute Human Need." "Restraining Forces" (left column of arrows) identifies factors which, if not inhibited, will keep a group or system in its current state or cause further decline. "Driving Forces" (right column of arrows) describes fac-tors which, if fostered/will support the movemeht of the group or system to its desired future. In this study the driving forces are portrayed as influenced by conversion, a process necessary'to respond consistently and faithfully to the Spirit of God. Co-opta-tion by the dehumanizing aspects of society permeates the restrain-ing forces. Moving toward the desired future is accomplished by attending to the driving forces and withdrawing energy from those that restrain. Unfortunately, groups tend to do the opposite, endeavoring to root out of what is undesirable and neglecting to put energy into what will take them in the desired direction. Figure 1: Shaping the Future of Religious Life in the U.S. Shaping the Future of Religious Life in the US ~ Driving Forces CONVERSION i-TExcellent Lea~ U ¯ [~ iAuthority ~ N ~ ~Corporate Idenlity T T T ~IThe GOSp~ ~ Review for Religious Overview Since the publication of the FORUS findings, the researchers have frequently been asked: Is there a future for religious life? Invariably they have responded, "Yes, definitely--if you want one and are willing to work for it!" Members of religious orders have devoted much time and effort to reading, attending conferences, and discussing the meaning of renewal. Too often their attention has been directed toward outside experts. Borrowing from the author of Deuteronomy, many act as if the answer were up in the sky or across the sea and others had to be sent to retrieve and interpret it (see Dt 30:12- 14). While consultation and input may be beneficial, the congregation must realize that ultimately the scriptural response applies here; the answer sought is "very near., already in your mouths and in your hearts; you have only to carry it out." It is here, in the imagining and implementing, that the difficulty occurs: As in many other change efforts--be it mastering a language or shedding pounds--good intentions are not enough. Effort is required. Neither Neither the FORUS study nor the presentation of any one of the scholars of religious life provides a quick and simple how-to response to renewal questions. the FORUS study nor the presentation of any one of the scholars of religious life provides a quick and simple how-to response to renewal questions. The finding and carrying out of the answer to the question of how to shape a congregation's future is as unique as the congregation and entails hard work.5 To get results, an action plan must be coupled with concerted and sustained implementation. The plan must take into account the current state of the congregation, the hopds and dreams of its members, the reality of its resources, the constraints and supports which the ~xternal environment brings to bear, and the needs of God's people. Openness to the work of the Spirit, through con-stant prayer, dialogue, and a continuous reading of the signs of the times, is critical. Evaluation and correctiori, during the process and at the conclusion,~will help keep all involved honest about their efforts and effective in the accomplishment of the group's mission. It is unfortunate that some perceive an honest assessment of a congregation's efforts toward renewal as an indictment of the March-April 1996 Uke~tis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal work of previous leadership teams, chapters, or members-at-large. This is hardly so. With. the humble realization that the efforts of these often heroic women and men have brought a group to its current ability to be faithful to its purpose and to minister to God's people, it is only in a spirit of fidelity to the work begun by founders and foundresses, carried on through the decades by countless religious, and most recently updated by those who led initial efforts at renewal that any such critique is offered or may merit being initiated. As many have found, it is out of such love that a response of greater effort is often born. Review of Factors Among the ways that religious orders have used the findings of the FORUS study in their efforts at renewal, the most fre-quently cited areas have been "Individualism/Vocation" (in com-bination with "Role Clarity"), "Average/Excellent Leadership," and "Corporate Identity." The remainder of this reflection will consider these three areas one by one. After a brief discussion of the area, examples will be given of actions taken by some groups or congregations, and then some remaining questions will be examined. Individualism/Vocation Members of religious orders have not been alone in noting the negative consequences of exaggerated individualism. In the United States several commentaries have appeared lamenting what seemed to be an overemphasis on self and a loss of a sense of commu-nity. The work of Robert Bellah is probably the most familiar.6 Granted that a healthy sense of one's own personhood is a critical factor in one's development, it is no news that an overem-phasis on individual concerns can lead to a narcissistic self-absorp-tion. Admittedly, many of the practices and customs that marked religious life up to the time of the council could stifle the fragile sense of self that some brought their early training. Furthermore, for those who entered novitiates in late adolescence, when a per-son's developmental task is identity formation, the foreclosure of that process as they assumed the image of religious in their par-ticular institute left many aspects of these tasks incomplete and made the successful transition into mature adulthood difficult. Hence, the psychological climate in many groups tended to pro- Review for Religious duce individualism, with sentiments reflected in songs of the 1960s and 1970s such as "I Did It My Way" and "I Gotta Be Me." With the numbers of golden and diamond jubilarians far sur-passing the number of silver jubilarians in recent years, questions like "Why religious life?" and "What does it mean to be a reli-gious?" are increasingly relevant to a generation whose develop-mental task is now generativity. Hence, it is hardly surprising that the notion of "call"--particularly, "to or for what?"--is a frequent topic of conversation. (Patricia Wittberg SC reflects, in her writ-ing, on some of the elements involved in responding to a call or commitment, notably, sacrifice, common rituals and traditions, and a sense of boundaries.)7 These conversations may be fright-ening to some insofar as they seem to hark back to former prac-tices that long .ago lost their meaning. In times of transition, as the FORUS report noted, it can be particularly enticing to revert to old ways of being and doing. The challenge for religious today is to put creative energies into finding new ways:--and, in this case, identifying what the distinctive elements of the call to religious life are and how they are to be lived. One of these areas of energy is to be found in the realistic examination many congregations are conducting in the matter of associate programs. Involving laypersons in the congregation's spiritual or ministerial activities has a long history for many groups. Others have adopted it more recently as a means of wel-coming those who share in the charism of the group. Thanks to the work of RosemaryJeffries and others, there is increasing clar-ity as to how individuals who are members of associate commu-nities do and do not relate with vowed members of the congregation,s Appropriate boundaries, the meaning of mem-bership, and modes of belonging are increasingly common topics at formal convenings of religious and around the kitchen table. Such discussions serve to enhance an understanding of vocation in today's world. As a separate but related concern, the FORUS study cited role clarity as a significant issue for members of religious orders, par-ticularly women. There is abundant evidence that religious are struggling to address this. The energy displayed in this country as the Lineamenta document circulated before the 1994 Synod on Religious Life was striking. Intended or not, this event provided an excellent public forum for conversations concerning the role of religious. There can be no doubt tha't religious in the United ~qarcb-Aptql 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongo.ing Renewal States are directing their attention to self-definition rather than looking to outside bodies to provide the answer to the question "What does it mean to be a religious in the church today?" In general, it is encouraging to hear religious focused increas-ingly on the accomplishment of the mission of Jesus as expressed through their charism. While the funding of retirement contin-ues to be a concern in the face of dwindling material resources, the new energies that congregations have been devoting to ministries that address critical needs, to realistic ways of supporting new members, and to clarifying the meaning of membership are all signs of movement in the direction of a vital future.9 In reflecting on issues related to vocation, the meaning of membership in a community remains to be examined. Old ways of belonging (common ministry, common schedule, many restric-tions on external involvements) no longer seem functional, but what are the new ways to determine what being a member of a community means? The 1994 Synod .on Religious Life acknowl-edged that community does not necessarily involve the members' living together. Today, however, it is often easier to state what community is not than to describe what it is. Resistance encoun-tered in attempts to describe what it is may relate~to the reality that any definition will place demands or limits on those who choose to belong. The pull of individualism continues to be strong. There must be continuing efforts to grapple seriously with what vocation means to individuals and what its lived expres-sion should include. Undoubtedly, the lived expression of com-munity will take different forms in different groups. Average/Excellent Leadership Members of religious orders are not alone in expressing great interest in leadership and the development of leaders. Officers of major funding groups and administrators of sponsored institu-tions have, in conversations, voiced serious concern about the ability of religious to provide the leadership required to direct the efforts of religious organizations in an increasingly complex world. The absence of plans to address this concern, even after its identification, is even more alarming. Finally, the fact that the pool of religious from which to select and train leaders is dwin-dling adds to the urgency of this consideration. The search for opportunities for leadership training, based on a set of competencies demonstrated to be critical for religious Review for Rel(glous leadership, continues, Unfortunately but typically, this se~irch starts only after individuals or teams have already been selected for their position. Few congregations are at the point of developing a systematic means of providing their members with leadership training. This is complicated further by the fact that the cost of such programs may be or appear to be beyond the financial means of some congregations. One group reported dif-ficulty in finding a total of $1000 for three days of training for a five-member team. Yet, in the world of professional development, this sum is not an atypical cost for one individual to partic-ipate in a weekend program. Efforts to address seriously the leadership issues within congregations have taken many forms. One group devised a three-year series of four-day leadership-skills workshops. All mem-bers under a certain age were expected to par-ticipate in one cycle. The content of these sessions was basic, ranging from how to run a meeting to how to read a balance sheet. It included segments dealing with human-resource issues such as recruiting, hiring, supervising, and firing staff and managing volunteers as well. This not only provided busy people the opportunity to become acquainted with basics of leadership, but also assisted the congregation in identifying its members' var-ied gifts. It had the side effect of enabling participants to interact with one another in ways they might not otherwise experience and served as a means of encouraging some members who might be hesitant or reluctant to see themselves in positions of leader-ship to pursue additional education. Clearly, this congregation is providing for its own future leadership needs, for at some future time some members of this group will surely find themselves in positions of community leadership. The leadership group of another congregation instituted a mid-term evaluation of their ministry as leaders. Having developed at the beginning of their term a ministry plan for their four years in office, they conducted the evaluation at the end of their second year. Results of this effort provided information concerning where and how they might refocus their efforts, alter their strategy, or enhance communication on critical issues. It also gave them a sense of affirmation regarding work well done. Few congregations are at the point of developing a systematic means of providing their members with leadership training. March-April 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal Corporate identity provides an answer to the question "What is this group known for ?" The constant challenge, along with the gentle shift that is occurring with congregational leadership, manifests itself in the willingness of members to allow leaders to exercise their leader-ship skills. Given that many members are steeped, perhaps uncon-sciously, in a culture of individualism, it can be difficult to attend to the call of a leader or leadership group and to channel one's energy in a direction set by others, especially when it is not one that the member would choose. The good news is that capable leaders have learned much about the when and how of man-aging consensus. Paralysis resulting from rigid adherence to consensus processes is less fre-quent. Some of this is true because outstanding leaders have learned to listen to their members. They read the pulse of the community, under-stand what is said between the lines, and attend to the climate of the group. By doing this they are able to gauge thetiming of a program or intervention, frame it in a manner that enables members to receive it, and reframe it when resistance seems likely to thwart the outcome. The leader-ship of a large congregation encountered such resistance after announcing for the coming year a reflection process on the group's previously identified focus. The chapter's response was loud and clear: resistance, based on the complaint that the congregation's members had not been consulted before the announcement. Rather than insist on its prerogative to lead by setting the agenda for implementing congregational goals, the team responded by acknowledging the concern. In the face of time constraints and at the cost of additional effort willingly contributed by the team members, they amended the plan to include a consultation with the members. In the final analysis, the project ran almost exactly as initially presented--with the addition of the consultation step that ensured the success of the effort. The community experi-enced a year-long dialogue that resulted in deeper self-under-standing and greater commitment to the group's focus. It is not only within congregations that outstanding leaders exercise their ministry. Groups of leaders have joined together to influence not only the church and religious life but also soci-ety at large. One regional group has chosen to confront media use of negative stereotypes in portraying religious. They are deter- Review for Religious mined to educate local media personnel about the positive reali-ties of religious life. Calls by leadership for prayer and fasting are increasingly common and are taken seriously by members. A leadership team formally called its members to prayer and fasting on a set day each week as a means of discerning and seeking openness to the call of the Spirit regarding the future of their congregation. In terms of the questions remaining, the growing number and the growing complexity of contemporary needs appear to out-strip religious orders' ability to develop the leadership skills and organize themselves enough to address these needs. For some individuals, relinquishing both the satisfactions and the pains of direct apostolates in order to develop and use leadership skills to achieve systemic and organizational change may be the form of a new asceticism, For others, learning how to be effective board members of congregational and external institutions may be the way to exercise leadership. The critical issues outlined in the introduction to this section remain. They are summarized best in the question concerning the willingness and the ability of reli-gious congregations to provide leadership not only for themselves but also for the institutions they sponsor and the ministries in which they are involved. Corporate ldentity Of all the driving forces identified in the FORUS study, cor-porate identity was perhaps the most misunderstood. It does not imply a congregation's insistence on one type of ministry or one site at which all would live and work. Corporate identity is, rather, a common focus for the life of the ~roup. In a sense, corporate identity provides an answer to the question "What is this group known for?" Corporate. identity is not identical with charism, but flows" from charism. It is the manner in which a religious con-gregation, being faithful to its founding purpose, attempts to focus its many resources to respond to today's most pressing human needs. As avenues of ministry expanded after the council, it became increasingly common for members to be involved in any of the works in which a professional might be engaged. These ministe-rial moves--often in the form of entrepreneurial enterprises-- reflected the zeal of the members as they sought new ways to minister in today's world while simultaneously using both their March-April 1996 Ukeritis * Religious Life's Ongoing Rene~val innate gifts and the skills they had developed. At other times the forces of individualism moved members to pursue areas of inter-est regardless of the connection of their work with the congre-gation's mission. In both cases, this resulted in the dispersion of religious women and men. Religious came to be identified more and more as individual ministers, frequendy heroic in their efforts, frequently invisible as religious. The mutual relationship between the congregation and the individual member, particularly as related to the mission and ministry, was lost. Media reports that document the work of a religious priest, sister, or brother fre-quently fail to mention the member's congregation by name. Changes in the general population as regards violence, increased poverty, and widespread drug abuse--along with greater cultural diversity in the United States--have forced religious to rethink the locus and mode of their ministerial involvements. Increased complexity resulting from globalization and new tech-nologies has heightened the challenge. The overwhelming demand for new understandings and additional language skills, coupled with the shift in the ability of religious to respond .enthusiasti-cally with bodily presence to many of these situations, demands serious examination of how resources are used and immense cre-ativity in crafting responses. Many able leaders of congregations recognized their mem-bers' need for a focal point of congregational energies. Such a requirement is basic to the dynamics of any functioning group: all the more so for a group of individuals who have professed a life commitment in a religious congregation. In most cases these loci began as small endeavors. In some instances initial efforts seemed to fail, as in the case of one group's attempt to establish a shelter for adolescent girls. Examination of the situation and a willingness to admit shortcomings, learn from apparent .defeat, and directly address problem areas were critical in the. revitalization of that effort and its success today. A group with a long history of staffing private academies opted to replicate a successful project that another congregation had begun in the area. It took the form of a learning center for at-risk middle-school students in the inner city of a metropolitan area. The congregation took care to establish a focused sponsoring group as it missioned some members to initiate the work. This sponsoring group not only provided both the civic and religious communities with a sense of stability regarding the project, but Review for Religious also was a positive factor in securing funding and contributions from outside sources. For example, alumni/ae of other schools sponsored by the congregation (particularly schools that had been closed) found a type of kinship with the ministry. They were enthusiastic in their support of this new educational venture, which included a school, a pre- and after-school study center, summer camp experience, and a locus for parent education. In it they saw themselves forming a link with the next generation of those served by the very congregation that had given them an excellent education. As in the example described in the earlier FORUS report, sev-eral congregations--each one using a process that worked best for it--have selected an issue such as domestic violence, home-lessness, or ecological awareness as a focus for their corporate efforts. In such situations the members' activities range from let-ter writing to involving students or parishioners in direct-service projects. On a congregational scale, artists have pooled their tal-ents to create productions intended both to raise funds to sup-port the work and to raise consciousness about the issue. Members have encouraged their sponsored institutions to participate in walks to support the cause, again both to raise money and to make the public more aware of the issue. Congregations have pooled resources to provide salaries for state or regional advocacy. Once again, both direct action and efforts, at systemic change are crit-ical. As Amata Miller IHM noted in the video presentation that accompanied Threads for the Loom, one o~ the contributions that religious congregations can make is in their commitment to a geographic area. Few individuals are able to commit the twenty or more years required to make significant changes' in a neighbor-hood, but a religious congregation can make that commitment-- and ensure that change. For any group interested in addressing the question of cor-porate identity, several pitfalls remain. The. process requires, com-mitment from a core group. Obtaining a sense of the members--often in the face of great apathy--is key, for this pro-cess is aimed at group ownership of the. project. Congregations that have .experienced success in their efforts have' been willing to think small initially, to celebrate, the seemingly insignificant vic-tories, and to encourage their members to connect the focus with current ministerial efforts. In this process it will be a rare group that does not have members trying to define some issue so that it March-April 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal will encompass everything: ecology and AIDS and educational reform. No one would deny the significance of any of these issues. No one group, in this day, can focus simultaneously and effec-tively on all three. Corporate America provided us recently with this lesson when Anheuser-Busch and AT&T recognized publicly the need to define themselves more clearly in order to provide better service. In 1995 Busch announced its plans to divest itself of both the Eagle snack-foods division and its entertainment parks, and AT&T made public its plans to split into three companies, each focusing on a different service or product area. Admittedly, religious orders are not major for-profit corpo-rations. They do, however, stand to learn something from the world around them. Ultimately, of course, they must make sure that any such efforts of theirs are connected with the mission of Jesus, as expressed by the congregation and its charism. Without this spiritual connection, any such efforts would be a sort of fla-vor- of-the-month dilettantism. Conclusion As the reader may have noted, it is difficult to hold separate the three factors selected for review. Issues of individual mem-bership, and call (individualism/vocation), group identity (corpo-rate identity), and ways of enabling the group to accomplish its task (average/excellent leadership) do not exist in isolation from one another. Given the limits of human abilities, focus on one or another at a given time may be not only appropriate but necessary. Considering one area as the place to find "the answer," however, while ignoring the other areas of concern may lead. away from a successful resolution of a problem or to the ineffective imple-mentation of an intervention. As noted above, the hold of indi-vidualism may tend to block the best efforts of successful leaders. Ineffective leaders may not be able to make good use of a newly focused corporate identity. Clear corporate identity may enable individuals to determine the appropriateness of their member-ship in a given community. Unlike the Israelites who ultimately arrived at the Promised Land, it is not probable--and is very likely undesirable--that reli-gious life will attain the stability it seems to have experienced as late as the early 1960s.I° It is imperative, however, that members of religious orders address realistically the issues related to their Review for Religious viability and vitality)1 More than the ordinary members, religious who have been entrusted with greater responsibility for the charism of their congregation must strive to ensure that the gift given them for all of God's people is passed on. Admittedly, for some, this may entail suppression of an institute or evolution to some new form. Modeling death with dignity, in a Christian atmo-sphere of letting go, may prove to be a great lesson for a society inclined increasingly to resist surrender to the paschal-mystery cycle of life-death-resurrection. However, to fail to address the questions honesdy and work earnestly toward answers and imple-mentation might be a great infidelity to the ever present grace of God. To face all of this, We will need courage. We will need energy. We will need vision. We will need to be at ease with ourselves and our decisions. Above all, like the psalmist, we will need to keep our eyes fixed on the Lord, our God, until God lets us rest. And then we will know, as we have always known, that the effort was worth the gift of our lives, the best of our years, the length of our days.'z The title of this article reflecting on continuing efforts in the renewal of religious life 'contains the question "Will Good Intentions Suffice?" Hopefully, an answer key is not necessary to determine this author's response. Notes ~ See David Nygren CM and Miriam Ukeritis CSJ, The Future of Religious Orders in the United States: Tran~Cormation and Commitment (New York: Praeger, 1993). 2 The Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth in Wernersville, Pennsylvania, with the cosponsorship of Review for Religious, hosted the 26-29 October 1995 symposium "Religious Life 30 Years Later: Is This What Vatican II Intended?" 3 Anne Munley IHM, Threads for the Loom: LCWR Planning and Ministry Studies (Silver Spring, Maryland: Leadership Conference of Women Religious, 1992). 4 For an executive summary of this project, see Review for Religious 52, no. 1 (January-February 1993): 6-55, or Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992). See also n. 1 above. Marcb-Aptql 1996 Ukeritis ¯ Religious Life's Ongoing Renewal s While levels of energy and constraints of calendar are realities, a mantra-like refrain of "We're too tired!" or "We don't have time!" among members of religious orders would signal a host of issues more critical than age or schedules. 6 Bellah's works on this subject, each with several other authors, include Habits of the Heart (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1985) and The Good Society (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1991). 7 Patricia Wittberg SC, Creating a Future for Religious Life: A Sociological Perspective (New York: Paulist Press, 1991). 8 "Results of the Survey on Associate Membership," Horizon 16, no. 2 (Winter 1991). 9 In the early 1980s, one external observer of the religious-forma-tion process likened the care given the few members who entered religious orders to the attention lavished on chicks of a nearly extinct species of birds. Resources were lavished on a few in the hope that they would sur-vive to adulthood. At times formation personnel felt as thpugh they were held hostage by both the candidates and the vowed members until they produced conditions that would get the candidates to make a life com-mitment. ,0 See Patricia Wittberg SC, The Rise and Fall of Catholic Religious Orders (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1994), for an his-torical perspective on this notion. ,1 In November 1994, the Leadership Conference of Women Religious convened a think tank on the viability of religious institutes. As reported in that month's LCWR Update, the group searched experience for lessons. After looking at examples of the merger or reconfiguration of religious institutes, the suppression of institutes to create a new congregation, and the decision of a congregation to die with grace, the group concluded that the key element in each case was leadership. In every instance the out-come was shaped by the kind of leadership that had been exercised. 12 Clare Dunn CSJ and Judy Lovchik CSJ. Playmates Winter and springtime playing leapfrog together in March, April, May, Dorothy Forman OSF Review for Religious THERESA MANCUSO The Urban Hermit: Monastic Life in the City Does urban monasticism work? What is an urban hermit? How and why live a solitary monastic lifestyle in the midst of the city? Who are these people? New forms and expressions of monastic life have occurred historically throughout the centuries in both Eastern and Western Christian tradition. They continue to evolve today in the new landscape of the modem world where the hermit's life--the monk in solitude--is not lim-ited to a rural setting, but has found its plake in the city. Monks and nuns in the twentieth and twenty-first cen-turies will be eremitical and cenobitical; they will live in communities and alone, in the country and in the. city. Monastic life has but one rule: the Gospel of Our Lord Jesus Christ. The goal and purpose of the monas-tic way is union with God, the unification of the person, human salvation, enlightenment, and wisdomuin a word, happiness. Accordingly, monastic life in every time and place is a committed and consecrated endeavor to live faithfully by the precepts of Christ. The monastic voca-tion arises when and where it will in direct response to the call of grace. The urban hermit finds himself or her-self immersed in the spiritual treasures of monastic tra-dition, an integral expression here and now of that same tradition. Theresa Mancuso published "Reflection on the Solitary Life'-' in our September-October 1994 issue. She lives at 310 Beverly Road #4F; Brooklyn, New York 11218. seeking God March-April 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit Bede Griffiths, the charismatic, daring Benedictine who took his monastic vocation to India and back, wrote in The Marriage of East and l/Vest that: ¯. whatever the fate of this present world, the real need is to find a way of life which is able to survive all such disas-ters. In the Roman Empire it was monastic life which saved the world . . . monks who fled to the deserts of Egypt, Palestine and Mesopotamia founded a way of life based on prayer and work in conditions of the utmost poverty and simplicity and alone survived the collapse of the Roman Empire . . . [their] teaching and example led to the foun-dation of monasteries all over Eur6pe, in which the basis of a new civilization could be found. Today. there has been a revival of monastic life all over the world., centers of ferment which [may] gradually trans-form society and make possible a new civilization. The world of Bede Griffiths appears, perhaps, far removed from the noisy metropolis of New York, Chicago, Washington, Paris, Ba'rcelona, or Hong Kong. Nevertheless, the same ageless truths of which Bede spoke are the Gospel imperatives that call monastic life into being--new forms and old, today like yesterday. That which impelled Bede Griffiths to live his own monastic life a world away in the Hindu ashram is the same impetus that has given rise to solitary monastic ventures in the heart of the city. There is no geography, no time or place, in which monasticism cannot thrive and contemplative life grow. Prayer, work, poverty, and simplicity are the bedrock of a monastic heart. Alone as solitary or hermit or in the midst of community, the monk's path (monk meaning male and female) is to be immersed in God, preoccupied with the Gospel of Christ, living its life, breathing its breath, soaked in the perennial abso-lutes about which there is no ~luestion, no geography, no barrier of age, time, place, culture, or condition. In days of old, the desert was a city, according to D.J. Chitty in his classic work about early monasticism, The Desert a City. Today, perhaps, we can say it another way: the city a desert. What is this desert, then, so fundamental to the monk's life? Desert is wasteland, wilderness, barren solitude, profound silence. Desert is seclusion where the monk searches in prayer and penance, self-emptying (kenosis), th(deliberate renunciation of selfish desires, striving for inner emptiness, awaiting the hour of God's time (kairos), the manifestation of divine grace. Review for Religious The urban hermit is a kind of monk among many. Like monks everywhere, the urban hermit is consecrated to God by vows, sacred promises public or private, temporary or perpetual, worded traditionally--poverty, chastity, obedience, stability--or stated in creative new expressions. The meaning is the same. The monk is one, consecrated, offered, surrendered in complete dedication to God, steadfast in love, permeated with an all-encompassing charity that defines the heart of the monk as lover of God, com-passionate toward all God's creatures. Love sustains the lifestyle of the monastic vocation. Monasticism is a life of union and unity, communion and com-munity, silence and solitude, depth and diver-sity. Love is the call; love, the vocation; love, the path, the way, the meaning, and the reward. God, not a human inventor, makes monks. And this God does when and where he pleases. With the entire focus of the heart fixed on God, the monastic way may weave a strange thread indeed, not perhaps the dream one had in first embarking on the monastic journey. As life unfolds, so does the call of God. Consecration, dedication, immer-sion in Christ--these are what remains. All the rest is incidental. Accordingly, as the grace of God unfolds in pers.onal human history, the fine tuning of a monastic vocation eventually comes to fit the individual. In other words, who and what we are from the hand of God and our mother's womb finally dictates who and what we must become. The mystery of sanctification is some-times conditioned by transition, but it is always and everywhere in God's hands. To be consecrated means to live in the presence of God, to be centered in him, devoted to him, belonging to him, regardless of the conditions of life which are--after all--only the environment, not the essence of the monastic vocation. It is not surprising, then, or at least it should not be, that we have come to find monks and nuns living alone in the city, years and miles from where their monastic journey began. This, too, is caught up in the mystery of salvation. The beautiful Rule of Life created nearly twenty years ago by Father Pierre-Marie Delfieux for the Jerusalem Community-- monks of the city--says: ". You can live in God's heart at the heart of the city because it is his dwelling place. Be monk and nun in the very heart of the city of God" (No. 128). This is true What is this desert so fundamental to the monk's life? Marcb-dp~ql 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit of individuals as well as communities. Lacking financial endow-ment that might create the illusion of security, safety, and afford complete separation from the world, the urban hermit must go out every single day into the hustle and busde of the city just to make a living. And this is exactly as it should be. To be "monk and nun in the very heart of the city of God" is to work in the midst of humanity, to suffer the problems and dif-ficulties of the job, the discipline of tasks that await one at the workplace. It is not a distraction to work in the real world. It is, rather, a call to the most generous and absolute imperative: to center one's heart by turning inward at the same time as one must turn outward in labor. There is no duality in this process; it is an act of unification, part and parcel of monastic experience. Laborare et orate. The work of balancing internal contemplative life with exter-nal work in the center of the city requires a kind of persever-ance. In the beginning, it may seem impossible to remain contemplative in the busy atmosphere of city life. But, no, it is not impossible. The heart cries out to God, "Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner," and learns, bit by bit, to pray easily in the midst of all the noisy activity and wild frenzy of the city. Over time, the monk in the world realizes the deep-est center to be one's own impenetrable fortress of joy, faith, Spirit, and Life. Later in his Rule, Father Pierre-Marie says: "What the early monks set out to seek yesterday in the desert, you will find today in the city. All monastic life is a fight and urban monasticism calls for fighters. Followers of Christ, the Beatitudes summon you to a life of real struggle in the heart of the city" (No. 129). There is no protection but God's for the urban hermit who lives and dwells in the real world, as stark and naked a reality as ever there was in the heart of the desert. Like the Desert Fathers and Mothers, the urban hermit knows the isolation and threat of the wilderness, the roar of beasts and the temptation of the heart. To find peace in the city is to walk with God in the deepest center of one's being. " The Monastic Typicon ofNeTv Skete (1980) says this about work: "Throughout history, our fathers and brethren in monastic life have taught that work is not only required to sustain oneself, but that it is equally important as a means of self-discipline and as an adiunct to prayer and worship and individual total growth. Review for Religious Work, therefore,ds part and parcel of our life, first of all, because it;is essential to monastic life in general" (Nos. 71 and 72). The urban hermit, bound by the same need to work that char-acterizes all persons, is fortunate if livelihood can be obtained working at home within the poustinia, but this is not always the case. In fact, it is rarely possible. The monk in the world must learn to accommodate to working conditions in the professions or elsewhere, whether the work~is manual or intellectual. Work joins the monk to all people of all time and place. "With the sweat of your brow shall you earn your bread" (Gn 3:19). Over time, work itself becomes sweet to the monk, for it is but another expres-sion of the inner song of the heart: "Lord, Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." It has been said that it is not the habit that makes the monk. Nor is it the work. What is essential in mdnastic spirituality is that work and every other dimension of life be characterized by the interior spirit of recollection, purity of intention, and single-mindedness. Work is a sanctifying process, it is not a distraction. By reaching down deeper and deeper into the pool of faith in order to carry out one's work properly, the work and the worker will be immersed and bathed in the light of divine presence. Thus the monk in the marketplace is at home in God's world. In Contemplation in a World of Action, Thomas Merton wrote decades ago, perhaps the prelude for today's monk in the world: "Do we really choose between the world and Christ as between two conflicting realities absolutely opposed? Or do we choose Christ by choosing the world as it really is in Him, that is to say, created and redeemed by him? Do we really renounce ourselves and the world in order to find Christ, or do we renounce our alienated and false selves in order to choose our own deepest truth in choosing both the world and Christ at the same time?" The urban hermit, immersed now in solitude, now in actual labor outside the hermitage, seeks to integrate the contemplative life of the poustinia with the, marketplace where a living is earned. Renunciation of the false self and transcendence over the spirit of the world through the practice of interior recollection and con-templative prayer purify the heart and transform the effort to do one's best into the peaceful harmony that defines right livelihood. The monk is called by God to live alone in him--monos-- monacbos--one--single--alone. In community or in the hermitage wherever it may be, the monk strives to be of single .'focus. In the March-Apt41 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit marketplace the monk is living witness to the holiness of work, the goodness of the world, and the salvation of the earth by the mercy of God. As humility should characterize the soul of a monk, so, too, simplicity, charity, gentleness, tenderness, compassion will exemplify the detachment of heart that frees the religious hermit and enables the monk to live in the world without becoming worldly. The urban hermit strives to renounce that which is worldly (self-centered, egotistical, arrogant, profit-seeking, and decep-tive), to cast out and obliterate those attitudes of mind that block communion with God and harmony with one's fellow creatures on this fragile planet. The pure heart of God's solitary learns to return to the world as often as necessary, not as an adventurer seeking new pleasures or material power, but as one crucified in Christ, transfigured ,by Christ, restored to innocence and holi-ness of life. The soul of the monk, one would hope, gradually becomes transparent, clean, empty, full and brimming over with the joy that comes only from God. The Monastic Typicon of New Skete states that: "Prayer and worship are the major concerns of monastic life. Through the liturgical celebrations [monks] participate in the mysteries of the life and death of Christ, thus moving toward the universal reali-ties of resurrection and transfiguration" (No. 60). The urban her-mit, in communion with monks and nuns of every time and place, lives in the. paschal mystery of the Lord by entering into liturgi-cal celebrations, whether the Liturgy of the Hours or the Eucharist. The "divine office" marks the hours of the day, spiraling the soul in and out of psalmody, uplifting, descending, flying to God, returning to earth. The urban hermit, at work in the marketplace of the world, simply does not have the luxury of stopping to chant the Third Hour, the Sixth Hour, or the Ninth Hour of the day. Nevertheless, interior prayer should never cease, but accompany all our actions, those of labor and social intercourse, as well as the times and places when we are free to enter most deeply into the prayer of the church. Urban hermits try to celebrate as many hours of the "divine office" as are possible in the demands of every day, for life in the world requires the monk to be present to its concerns without losing the focus of vocation. Prime. Lauds. Matins. Vespers. Compline. At least pa~'t of the regular Hours m'ust be celebrated Review for Religio1~s alone or in the parish church if possible. Sometimes the urban hermit may join a religious community for the observance of litur-gical prayer. The wisdom of the desert is today the wisdom of the city-- that is, the city of God. It would be foolishness to overburden one-self by attempting to work a required 35 6r 40 hour week outside the hermitage and expect to be able to complete all the Liturgy of the Hours. Certainly, God does not require the impossible. The rule of faith is simple: Do what is possible. Do what you can. But do everything you can as best you can, with your whole heart, your whole soul, and your whole being. Concentrate the very fiber of your existence on that which is given to God without neglect-ing that which is given to people. What is the difference anyway between the basket-weaving monk in the wilderness of Egypt who goes down to sell wares at the marketplace from time to time and the computer-opera-tor monk in the center of Manhattan who commutes to Brooklyn or Queens by subway after work? It is the spirit, the heart of the monk---interior substance--that matters. That which defines the monastic vocation is singleness of focus. Prayer that is intimate and ongoing moment by moment, hour by hour, cements our union with God and prompts the conversion of our hearts over and over again, making holy not only our poor, fragile lives, but everything we touch and everyone we love. The monk is leaven in the marketplace and remains so by cherishing and using advantageously the secret silenc~e and deep seclusion of the hermitage, even when many hours must be spent outside. The Liturgy of the Hours is first and finally the greatest cel-ebration of the heart and the center of monastic life. It is the joy of Christians and the soul of monasticism. To chant the "divine office" is to enter again and again into the ageless mystery of Christ. Season by season, liturgical texts teach the heart, renew the spirit, and join humanity to God in the person of Christ, the only lover of humanity. Simplicity, charity, gentleness, tenderness, compassion will exemplify the detachment of heart that frees the religious hermit and enables the monk to live in the world without becoming worldly. MarclJ-Aptql 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit The monk at large may celebrate the Liturgy of the Hours in a monastery church with a community of brother or sister monks or in the parish church anywhere in the city or countryside of his or her abode. It does not matter. At the heart of the liturgy is found the whole meaning of the monastic vocation: to die and rise with Christ in fulfillment of the Father's will for the redemp-tion of the world. The Eucharist is the food of monastic life, its sustenance and joy. To find a monk who does not deeply love the liturgy is to find a sorry sort of monk. Therefore, time and energy must be made available to participate properly in the celebration, of the Eucharist. This is the heart and center of the monastic life. As practiced by Pachomius and the monks of Eastern Christendom, the Eucharist was celebrated weekly, not daily, though it remains the privilege and practice in the Latin rite to celebrate Eucharist daily. The liturgical chants that surround the Eucharist provide spiritual nourishment and food for contemplation. The urban hermit goes forth from the church after participation in the liturgy, and carries back to the city and back to the hidden place of his or her own poustinia the wealth of Scripture that echoes in the prayers of the Eucharist. Be it a tiny .apartment in a busy housing complex or a huge industrial or professional workplace, the chants and meaning of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist remain with the urban hermit all day, eveory day, feed-ing heart and mind with those things which endure, the living breath of contemplative life. Finally, the urban hermit learns to safeguard religious seclu-sion and solitude which provide the depth of silence and cen-teredness that is indispensable to the monastic way. The integrity of monastic life and the monk's personal steadfastness in this voca-tion arise from that wellspring of silence and solitude that ripened by seclusion. Nevertheless, the monk in the city must never become a self-preoccupied hermit whose reclusive tendencies spring from self-deception as if the world were a contagion to be avoided at all cost. A balance of solitude is derived from a healthy view of reality. The opposite is unsound. To live in the midst of the world as an urban hermit is not to sacrifice or minimize the essential quality of seclusion and solitude necessary for ctntemplative prayer. Urban hermits are usually not reclusive. To go inward for the sake of contemplation is a dis- Review for Refigious cipline of the heart, not an act of walls and fences. Monks in the world must come and go; while cherishing and protecting the inner sanctuary of monastic seclusion that is an essential element of the hermit's life. They accomplish this by setting and main-taining proper boundaries. Hospitality and social needs are part of reality--essential for psychological and spiritual balance, no more, no less. They, too, like everything else, must be harmonized with reality in the vocation of the city monk. All the more must the urban hermit learn to bal-ance seclusion and secular involvement, for, being alone, he or she needs to understand what constitutes a necessary monastic enclo-sure in the world and what constitutes run-ning away. Extremes can best be avoided by studying the Gospel of Jesus Christ. The Lord went apart to pray; he rested in the desert and returned to the city. So, too, the monk in the marketplace needs separation from the world. If monks today are to be the salt of society, "the monastery" must be accessible to all, so that they (those in the world who come into contact with monastic life) "may savor its life, its worship, and its message" (Monastic Typicon of New Skete, No. 28). The monk who goes forth from the silent sanctuary of a quiet hidden hermitage in the midst of the city to work and walk among the people of the world does so from necessity and generosity to let the world taste and savor the consecrated life, what it is and what it means, inviting the world to share in the worship and message of the monastic vocation. We must not hide from life, but embrace it, immersing every aspect of it into the mystery of Christ as we ourselves plunge our entire existence into the paschal real-ity, first at baptism, then throughout the day~ of our vocation. It is thus that all is transfigured b,y the grace of God and the entire cosmos shares in the transfiguration of Christ. For the urban hermit, this harmonious integration of all things is at the center of the monastic vocation. But tha~ is exacdy as it has always been for monastic life today and throughout its history--the still point in the turning world, where God and humanity meet and the spark of wisdom is given to illuminate the earth. To find a monk who does not deeply love the liturgy is to find a sorry sort of monk. Marcb-Aptql 1996 Mancuso ¯ The Urban Hermit I like to think Bede Griffiths or Thomas Merton, or indeed any of the great monks and nuns who are our spiritual forebears, might share a day or week in the life of an urban monk and find themselves altogether quite comfortable. They would recognize the rhythm of prayer, silence, solitude, work, hospitality, study, lec-tio divina, and liturgy. Those great followers of St. Anthony, father of Egyptian monasticism, or those who walk with St. Benedict, who codified monastic life--and all the others in between--should recognize in the urban hermit, monk in the world, the same hunger for God that led them in their own spiritual journeys. They would know the path, for it is one: forsaking all, embracing all, a voyage of the heart through dark and desolate places, remote and wild, desert and city, places where the monastic vocation thrives and God meets humanity in a singular embrace of love. References Chitty, D.J. The Desert a City. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1961. Griffiths, Bede. The Marriage of East and West. Springfield, Illinois: Templegate Publishers, 1982. Merton, Thomas. Contemplation in a World of Action. New York: Doubleday, 1971. At Hand but Unattended I spend my foolish life in search of marvels, of wonders to delight and startle me. The ordinary could not hold my interest, my soul each da. y demanded mystery.~ I envied those who lived when. Christ was preaching, who saw him work his wonders with a word. What drama to have seen a blind man sighted, the lepers cleansed, the deaf when first they heard. But, oh, how stupid I with all my longing, my searching for a miracle to see. I let my days go by, not ever grasping my miracle was God creating me. James F. Finley Review for Religious MARIE BEHA Enclosed in the Mystery of Jesus My " stery is a reality which we must explore from within, .a. ¯ .~. enter into, and live with. In contrast, a problem is some-thing we must externalize, be objective about, and solve. We pre-fer the latter, delighting in the challenge, the sense of mastery and control which it gives us. So we relish a "mystery" story just because it presents us with a whole set of "problems" to be solved. And we resist the mysteries in our lives even though we are fas-cinated by the breadth and depth of the big questions like "Where do we come from?" and "What is life?" Religious who freely choose to live enclosed lives present problems for many, even for many Catholics, just because they are so mysterious. Why would persons choose to confine them-selves within a drastically limited geographic space, associating, for the most part, with the same few people for the rest of their lives? It sounds as dismal as life-in-prison. But this is to make the mis-take of seeing enclosure in a problematic context. It is to bang our fists demanding an answer that satisfies us. It als0 misses the invitation to explore a mystery. Unfortunately, not much has been written on enclosure, and much of what has been done approaches it from its more prob-lematic side, presenting its canonical aspects, pointing out its rea-sonableness, or seeking to justify its continuance. Valid, certainly, since enclosure, like other incarnational realities, has external shape and form. Far more importantly, it also has a heart of mys-tery that invites exploration. Two contemporary efforts present the basic meaning of enclo-sure, inviting the reader to explore the reality to appreciate its Marie Beha OSC may be addressed at 1916 N. Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. March-April 1996 Beha * Enclosed in the Mystery of Jerus mystery. The first of these interpretations has been articulated by Sister Chiara Lainati in an article in Forma Sororum (vol. 4/5 [1983]: 200-203) where she describes it as a "particular way in the church of living out the paschal mystery . . . the emptying out of Christ on the cross" (p. 201). The second is that of Father Herbert Schneider:, who in his Commentary on the General Constitutions (private!y publ!shed, 1992, pp. 14-15), p[esents enclo-sure as "the place of decision to remain with the Lord" related to the statement of the Lord, "Remain in my love" (Jn 15:4). Each of our interpreters has the credentials to present this mystery of enclosure. Sister Chiara Lainati is a Poor Clare nun, a member of the protomonastery in Assisi, where she has served as abbess while continuing to do writing and research on topics related to the Poor Clare way of life. Presently she is the abbess of the small group of Clares pioneering a new contemplative foun-dation in the Vatican. Father Herbert Schneider has been provin-cial of the Franciscan province of Cologne and spiritual assistant of the Federation of German-speaking Poor Clares. At present he is in Rome as the delegate general to all communities who claim affiliation with the Franciscan Order, including the Poor Clares, In this office he has visited monasteries all over the world, presenting workshops as well as attending chapters of Poor Clare federations. Although papal enclosure directly involves only a few Christians, the reality which it symbolizes is a staple of Christian living. Each of us in our own style of life needs to incorporate such values as stability, participating in the paschal mystery, and remaining in Christ. To do this we have to accept many kinds of limits, including geographic ones. Enclosed in the Paschal Mystery Sister Chiara Lainati's "Enclosure: Characteristic Way for Clare to Express the Paschal Mystery" begins by rejecting the more traditional interpretations of enclosure as a "means" of pro-tecting chastity or of promoting the life of contemplation. In cri-tiquing the latter she points out that today there are other more suitable means, such as courses on prayer or the word of God. In her view, enclosure, like the other vows, is a way of entering more deeply into the self-emptying of Jesus. Just as poverty is described traditionally as a renunciation of material possessions, chastity as; Review for Religio us renunciation of sexual intimacy, marriage, and family, and obedi-ence as renunciation of one'~ self-will and determination, enclo-sure "limits a person in space, impoverishes her in her possibilities of action and of spatial liberty." This points out the "underside" of all the vows; they all include a saying "no" to some important human values, but only for the sake of a saying "yes" to some-thing else. "In this perspective enclosure has value in itself, as an opening of oneself to grace, just as Christ, alone on the mountain, was open to the contemplation of the Father" (p. 14). Sister Chiara treats of the origins of Clare's profession of enclosure. She believes that it originated during her brief stay at Sant' Angelo di Panzo, after she had left the Benedictine Monastery of San Paolo and before Francis took her to San Damiano, which was to become her true home. According to Sister Chiara, the group at Sant' Angelo was a community of recluses and penitents from whom Clare took "the completely new and revolutionary idea of a bond of deeper union in that kenosis of Christ which is his solitude of death on the cross" (p. ,1'5). Parenthetically Sister Chiara mentions that enclosure was not forced upon IZlare but was' her own free choice; there were other options even in her own .day. Witness the Beguine movement in which groups of pious women lived in common and practiced the corporal works of mercy. Clare could have chosen a similar form of active ministry, but she seems to have felt called to a lifestyle that included the discipline of enclosure. The question, then, is not whether Clare was enclosed, but the why and the bow of her choice. Both, according to Sister Chiara, evolved as expressions of the mystery of the kenosis of Jesus. Over and over again, Clare emphasizes the importance of "keeping one's eyes fixed on Jesus" (Heb 3:1). Specifically she urges Agnes of Prague to look in the mirror that is Jesus and to see reflected there the Infant Christ and the Crucified One: Look at the border of this mirror, that is; the poverty of him who was placed in a manger and wrapped in swaddling clothes. Then at the surface of the mirror, consider the holy humility, the blessed poverty, the untold labors and bur-dens that he endured for the redemption of the whole human race. Then in the depth of this same mirror, con-template the ineffable charity that led him to suffer on the " wood of the cross and to die there the most shameful kind of death. March-April 1996 Beba * Enclosed in the Mystery of Jesus Let us respond with one voice, with one spirit, to him crying and grieving who said: Remembering this over and over leaves my soul downcast within me (IV LAg. 19:22- 26). Looking at Jesus Crucified was not idle speculation for Clare, nor just an exercise in contemplative piety. For her, seeing involved not only believing but also living out of that belief. It meant imitation, a putting on the Lord Jesus that brought about a profound interior change. It was participation in the mystery of Jesus. As Clare looked at Jesus, what she saw was not only his bod-ily suffering but at a deeper level the. self-emptying that was sur-render to the Father's will. It was the same self-emptying that marked the incarnation ("He emptied himself, taking the form' of a servant" Ph 2:7), continued all through his active ministry ("My food is to do the will of the one who sent me" Jn 4:34), and culminated in that last triumphant cry, "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit" (Lk 23:46). What does it mean to empty oneself?. At first glance this seems a contradiction. To let go of externals, persons, or things, is theoretically possible, though dif-ficult, but to empty self of self?. How can that be? It sounds, at best, like looking for a way to lift oneself by oneself. Where could one stand, take hold of oneself, to initiate the process? Mystery again. First of all is the mystery of what we mean by self. And if that were not enough, there is the still greater mystery of the process itself. Self, as well as self-emptying, like all mysteries, can only be discovered from inside ourselves. Each of us already has some experience of what we mean by se/fwhen we say, "I am not my best self .today," or affirm, "Yes, that is true of me. That is the way I am." In each instance we have some core experience to which we turn, the bedrock of our personal identity. We recognize ourselves even when we cannot give anything like an adequate description of who we are. This is so because the self that I am is a very sim-ple concept, one that cannot easily be broken down. There is no simple recipe that will blend the right ingredients into a whole we can identify as myself Adding up qualities never sums identity. We can only work toward self-knowledge within the revelatory context of our everyday-lives. This process of self-discovery is initiated with the beginnings of consciousness and continues till death. It is dynamic, a lesson Review for Religious never completely learned but essentially ongoing. Initially the focus is on relating self to an external world, distinguishing myself from other realities. So the baby discovers: I am separate from the surrounding bed, different from mother. How separate? How different? The former distinction will be discovered quite easily; the latter may never be completely accomplished! But this is only negative knowledge: I am not .Ahead lies the whole range of positive identification: "I am .". Others hold up a mirror of how they see us and we begin to discover ourselves in that reflection. I am. baby. I am. good baby., sometimes! Fortunate the individual whose first feedback from others is real-istic and basically positive. Inevitably some of it will be neither. Others may identify us with their problems, ignore us, threaten us, deny us, abuse us. Initially we are almost completely dependent on these impressions received from others; that is why these are so formative. Most of the rest of our lives, we will experience some flashback of these first experiences of who we are. As time goes on, we begin to accumulate a growing memory bank of others' perceptions and of our own self-reflection; together these become the core of our identity We learn how we relate and are related to others, what we can and cannot do, and why we choose or refuse as we do. We come to describe ourselves in such obvious ways as age, sex, size, and shape but much more significandy as smart or stupid, as lovable or unlovable, as good enough or not good enough. Over time these labels take on the reality of personal identity; true or false, they are who we think we are and so tend to become self-fulfilling prophecy. Still, this self-concept that forms me is not written in stone; rather it is as fluid as the flow of time and changing life circum-stances. I can and do become a different person, changing in ways that are more or less profound. Acquaintances who say "I hardly recognize you" may be noting only superficial characteristics. Others who know us better remind us, in the face of surprising changes in the externals of our lives, "I always thought you might. ," under-lining the continuity that is our basic identity. So where does self-emptying come into the picture? What could it mean? On one level it can mean that openness to change which allows us to grow and develop. Unless we are willing to let go of some of our past and present identity, our self-concept remains the same. Detachment is needed if we are to move away from previous self-definition. So change, even freely chosen and Marcb-~lplql 1996 Beba ¯ Enclosed in tbe Mystery of yesus The more significant the change the greater the threat, but conversion never comes without a price tag. desired change, can be painful. It poses risks; our self will never be the same, and We have grown accustomed to its face. The more significant the change the greater the threat, but conversion never comes without a price tag. Yet this is not the fullest meaning of self-emptying. Change is self-improvement or self-destruction, depending on its direc-tion, but self is still very much in the picture. We want it to be; this is how our functional self will grow. Even when we make a destructive choice, we do so under the delusion that this is somehow to our imme-diate advantage, mistakenly opting for imme-diate gratification rather than wait for the slower-appearing benefits of disciplined effort. As our functional self becomes more clearly delineated, we find ourselves growing in per-sonal security. Faithful response to the chal-lenge of ongoing conversion prepares us for another level of letting go; we begin to be capa-ble of self-forgetfulness. The focus shifts from me at the center of the world to a broader view that is increasingly other-centered. The inse-cure .adolescent (of whatever age) grows into the generous adult capable of entering the world of the other with fewer repeated nervous glances back to "how am I doing?" Who of us has not admired individuals mature enough to hold in creative tension the concerns of self with those of oth-ers. Secure in their self-identity, they are not so preoccupied with their own needs that they cannot even see those of others. Nor are they so involved in meeting the neediness of others that the self is at risk of'being destroyed in the process. The latter is only a dis-gnised form of self-gratification that threatens dual destruction. The maturity that makes self-forgetfulness possible opens the self to the world of others, allowing for a truly personal rela-tionship, a dialogue of love. The bonding of parent and child, of a long-married couple, of friends, all exemplify letting go of self for the sake of being with, being for, another. In these experi-ences we begin to discover the paradox that in losing ourselves we find ourselves. We become more ourselves because of the other, and we are grateful. These loving relationships that are first lessons in self-for-getfulness can begin at any age level; they continue for life and are Review for Religious always maturing. But they are not self-emptying. In self-forget-fulness there is still a self, with the focus shifting back and forth between self,and others. We are ourselves and we identify our-selves in loving the others, as loving the other. Self-emptying goes deeper still. Preliminary to it is our will-ingness to allow it to happen. "Let this attitude be in you which was also in Christ Jesus" (Ph 2:5). The self needs to accept self-emp-tying, such is the exquisite courtesy of God who always waits on the consent of our freedom. Still, the initiative is God's inviting us, gradually readying us, then asking us if we are ready. Our hearts must answer, not just our heads. The question: Where is your trea-sure; what do you really want? If our wholehearted response is: God, first of all, more than all, most of all, then the center of self changes. We are no longer just ourselves; our life "is hidden now with Christ, in God" (Col 3:3). This is where "we live and move and have our being" (Ac 17:28), and "I live now, not I . " (Ga 2:20). What was formerly said as pious slogan, then desired more or less seriously, now begins to be realized in our "mortal flesh." This is first experienced with the same sense of awkwardness that accompanies other beginnings. More than just strange, the loss of self is painful. Where is the I? What is happening? Even to ask these questions is to focus back on self. We might expect such a return to normal self-reflectiveness to feel familiar; it may not, and this will be even more disturbing. Who am I and who am I becoming? These questions may be natural enough, but they are no longer important or even relevant. We have to let them go, never mind the risk. This shift from I to the Other of God is as gradual as all other growth. For' a period of time, more or less prolonged, the self is sometimes operative and sometimes gone. We lose ourselves and then recover ourselves. Sometimes our activity will seem self-directed, self-reflective; at other times our focus will move to a self-forgetfulness that allows for a going beyond self. In all of this, though, we are free to say "yes" or "no." We cannot make it happen; that is beyond us. What is ours to do is to accept the divine action or refuse it. The latter occurs when we become afraid, clinging nervously to self; when we yield to the pseudosecurity of self-directed activity; when we try looking back over our shoulder to see ourselves. All of these are perfectly nat-ural, not supernatural; nor do they represent the level on which we are being invited to live. March-April 1996 Beha * Enclosed in the Mystery of yesus The simple truth is that we are no longer our own. We belong to another. "We are God's people, the sheep of God's flock" (Ps 100:3). It sounds fine in general! However, in all the particular-ity of our own experience it presents the most intriguing of mys-teries. Only through generous participation will we be able to share the new life being offered to us. While it is certainly true that we are experiencing a loss of self, it is even truer that we have never been more ourselves. This is who we really are: a creature, created in God's image, redeemed, sanctified and enabled to live divinely./~ are in Christ Jesus. Our truest self exists, lives, only in God, our beginning and our end. This is the self we are called to be "now and forever and forever." How does enclosure further this process of self-emptying? Sister Chiara Lainati states this without developing specifics. I believe the answer lies in the way that enclosure loosens the hold of the functional self and at the same time makes more possible a kind of primary centering on the other that is God. At- least that is its potential; like all of the other vows, enclosure provides an opportunity but does not automatically accomplish what it offers. Let us begin with the loosening of the grip of the functional self. Enclosure clearly limits personal geography so that we become very familiar with our surroundings; we are freer, then, to let go of our self-regarding, cautionary self without endangering life or limb. Contrast this with the degree of anxious concern that marks our traveling into strange space. In the same way, customary rela-tionships with familiar persons relax the ego's grip. We are freed from such self-regarding questions as: Who are we in this new relationship? How are we affected by it? Those are always self-regarding questions. At home and relaxed, we can be ourselves, forget ourselves, and be readied to go beyond ourselves. Similarly, within enclosure, simple, familiar work frees from those compet-itive, complex work situations that underline self-achievement, self-accomplishment, and the building up of the functional self. Put in a more positive way, by limiting one's field of vision, enclosure intensifies the seeing. Like a spotlight, it centers atten-tion on Another. This is illustrated by the inscription over many medieval monastery gates, "God alone," that was both a warning and a promise. Nothing else would be found within; self-seeking would find itself either badly malnourished, trying to satisfy itself on meager rations or starving to death; that was the warning. The promise: Beyond the self God was waiting. Review for Religious But only if the asceticism of an enclosed life was accepted graciously and lived faithfully. Included in the discipline: fidelity to the limits of physical geography, to intracommunity relation-ships and noncompetitive work. But none ,of these can be inter-preted in too materialistic a way. It is the heart that matters, the spirit that must be set free. Limited physical geography can imprison, circumscribed relationships can shrink one's world, and simple work can leave the mind dangerously idle. All such prac-tices can also become self-congratulatory, just as fasting can feed the ego. Each individual must discover for herself and then incorpo-rate into life the particular practices that will allow her to go deeper into the paschal mystery of Jesus. For example: Curiosity may need to be controlled though its object is legitimate; reading, even of a spiritual character, may need restriction lest the func-tional self become too active; even some self-satisfying forms of vocal or mental prayer may need to be abandoned. Examples could be multiplied; what they would have in common is the self-emptying that allows for a more complete immersion into the mystery of God. To the degree that this occurs, enclosure comes to partake in the paradox of the beatitudes. Emptiness will be filled with the fullness of God; being confined will bring greater freedom. Going apart will result in being still more a part; limited apostolic oppor-tunity will hasten the coming of the kingdom through a deepen-ing of the baptismal grace of being "buried with Christ" to "rise to new life with Christ" (Col 2:12). Relating enclosure to the paschal mystery of Jesus as Sister Chiara does permits new emphasis on its sacramental character. It has outward signs, but these point toward a deeper interior reality. But the new life within that is the exciting possibility of enclosure is not guaranteed. Nor is enclosure in the canonical sense of the term the only means. The same process of self-emp-tying for the sake of deeper immersion in the mystery of God can be accomplished in many different life circumstances. For example, fidelity to the limits of a geography circumscribed by poverty or illness, of family relationships stressed by contempo-rary nonvalues, of routine work that offers little room for self-congratulation-- all these can become occasions for self-emptying or for self-seeking. The choice is ours. Freely choosing to live ¯ within the limits of enclosure of whatever kind can be fruitful. March-April 1996 Beha ¯ Enclosed in the Mystery of yesus Though the limits and limitations of any kind of enclosure are real and should not be diluted, its basic purpose is positive: fuller participation in the mystery of God and growing freedom. When chosen as part of an ongoing vocational commitment, it becomes a way of waiting on God, of bringing forth new life in the church and the world, of growing in the freedom that is the power of Christ's redemptive death. Remaining in Jesus Father Herbert Schneider centers his presentation of enclo-sure around the gospel words "Remain in my love" (Jn 15:4). As he explains in his Commentary on the Poor Clare Constitutions, "Enclosure is the place of decision to remain with the Lord. The innermost enclosure is the space of the heart. In relationship to that, the enclosure of the building is a sign and a help" (p. ~14). Because enclosure is primarily a matter of the heart, Schneider suggests that a variety of interpretations may be given to its exter-nal form without changing its essential meaning. What is true is that enclosure has a value of itself and belongs to the basic ~ele-ments of contemplative life (p. 14). ~ Each life has a where, expressed on the geographic level when we say "My address is. ," or "I live in." and rephrased more significantly as ',IYm at home here" or "I no longer know where I am." In the latter two examples ~we begin to explore the way in which external space relates to the world of the psyche and, ulti-mately, to that of the spirit. In everyday parlance, we frequently use spatial metaphors to refer to internal realities: "personal space" and "individual direction." "Don't crowd me" can be meant lit-erally or it can be a graphic way of asking for more time, more space for personal considei, ation. Similarly, when we ask someone to show us the way, we may be hoping for directions on a map or direction fo~: life. As Schneider points out, enclosure is a spatial metaphor for the contemplative desire to remain with God. It is an incarna-tional reality, having both an external form and an interior real-ity. Either one without the other would be less than human, iust as an inanimate body is.only.a corpse and a disembodied soul seems conceivable only as a ghost (or an .angel). Viewed exter-nally, enclosure spells imprisonment, but for a contemplative spirit it provides necessary boundaries. Review for Religio~,s To live contemplatively requires space; that is the basic truth Schneider emphasizes. The external boundaries of enclosure pro-vide sacred space where the heart can find a home. This experi-ence of at-homeness is a familiar one, hopefully, to most of us. Although it may be difficult, even impossible to explain, we know there are places, circumstances, relationships in which we can relax, be ourselves, be at peace. We cher-ish these places, seek to find them, even try to create them. So where is a contemplative at home? Essentially, there is only one place, one circumstance, one relationship: in God. "Our hearts are restless till they rest in thee." Augustine knew from personal experience that we are at home nowhere else. Remain in me, dwell in me, abide in me--the same central truth is nuanced in a changing variety of translations. All use the imperative. We are told in the most direct of terms what we are to do: make our home in God. Though we might like to reduce this to a harmless figure of speech, the gospel command is insistent in its reality. In John's Gospel the details are spelled out with evangelical insistence: "Remain in my love" On 15:9) and "Remain in me, as I remain in you" On 15:4), Where can we find a lasting home? Only by living in love, .remaining there, abiding there. We like the idea, but we protest its impossibility. The world in which we live is not a very loving place:' Unfortunately, that misses the point completely. At issue is not the world around us as much as the world inside us. It is we, .at the very center of our being, who are to abide in love; it is our choice, our decision. No one, nothing outside, can evict us from this home. I may not wish to remain there; I may prefer to roam, seek-ing diversion anywhere I can find it. I am restlessly on the move, changing geography or just changing the subjecwI may look for diversion in the media or seek distraction in idle chatter. I may even allow my mind to slip down into dark valleys of personal gloom or climb the bright uneasy slopes of critical judgment. Any Although it may be difficult, even impossible to expla!n, we know there are places, circumstances, relationships in which we can relax, be ourselves, be at pe.ace. March-April 1996 Beba * Enclosed in the Mystery of yesus escape seems better than no escape. All such forms of selfishness seem to promise oases, but prove to be only deserted places. We need to remain where we are in the reality that is ours: present space, immediate situation, personal relationship, even when this is not comfortable, even when we might prefer to be some place., any place., else. Here is the geography of our real-ity, the enclosed space, that allows us to live in truth and in love. Only when we attempt to remain in this loving truth of pre-sent reality do we discover how much unreality pollutes our human situation. Where we try to live is too often only a castle in the air, a mirage. No wonder we cannot find much of a living there. We cannot dwell where we are not. So we must move on. If the direc-tion of our seeking moves us toward home, then we call our change conversion. The moving now becomes a pilgrimaging, a seeking for our true home. Pilgrims we will always be in this life since the only place where we can have a lasting abode is in our eternal dwelling place. But already in this life we do have a home in God, the God who dwells in the center of our hearts. This is where we must remain in the here and now, loving God, ourselves, others. Then we expe-rience ourselves at home. It is the remaining that often becomes problematic. Monastic enclosure is meant to offer a way of doing so. Time and space for God are its first promise. By setting boundaries on who comes and goes, it reserves a generous amount of time and space that Can be filled with the things of God. Again, what is offered is the opporttmity; what is necessary is faithfulness, not just to making use of the time that is available, but also to the specifics of our own personal vocation. What prayer is God inviting me to here, now? ~- At variant times we may find ourselves called to renewed litur-gical dedication or to a silent waiting on the Lord. Ours may be a prayer of pain or one of more generous service. There will be seasons when we will easily dedicate ourselves to thankfulness and other times when it will be all we can do to muster a decent amount of joy. What remains the same: Be faithful in prayer and you will find the Lord. And find yourselfl This can be even more problematic. People expect to find God (perhaps a "dream" God) within the enclo-sure; they may not be as acceptive or expective of the self they will discover as well. Limited space inevitably brings one face to Review for Religiot~s face with self. Lacking a place to hide, we must face ourselves and learn to love the self that we really are, not the self that we often pretend to be. It is the reality of ourselves just as we are presently that God loves, so we do not have an option about self-acceptance. Remaining true to ourselves opens the door to real love of neighbor. Again, we need to embrace others, not as we would like to remake them, but as they are in Christ Jesus. When we mistake our self-centered labeling of others as lovable/unlovable for the judgment of God, we are left in the darkness of untruth. We do not dare stay there. The only place we can remain is in the all-inclusive tenderness of God's love. Life within an enclosed space is meant to make possible such a love, providing opportunities for in-depth relationships that are tested in the crucible of close living, that endure over a lifetime and bear fruit for eternity. The hope of life enclosed, as Schrieider points out, is that it "leads to nearness and to the ability for relationships" (p. 14). This capacity for relationships extends beyond the monastery. Again it is a matter of the heart. In the bond that is God's life-giv-ing love, all are potentially one. This essential unity is lived out in a faith that makes enclosure as wide as divine mercy and as tender as infinite compassion. Again, no pious dream, but vital enough, to inspire a life of everyday sacrifice and self-giving for the building up of the Body of Christ (Ep 2:20)! This is enclosure's spaciousness, its redemptive power. Slowly, gradually, what was once.intellectual assent to faith's truths becomes experience. We are so united "in Jesus" that each person embracing truth and growing in freedom affects the life of all. We never act alone, because we never are alone; our soli-tude is peopled with all the people of God. When these experi-ences become personal, the contemplative no longer feels constrained by enclosure's limits, but, rather, finds fulfillment in remaining there~ at home in the heart of God. The gospel speaks of such remainirig as living in love and also as living in Jesus. There is a sense in which the two descriptions are redundant; to remain in love is to remain in Jesus. What the latter expression adds is helpful personalization along with the unbelievable promise of a certain reciprocity. We live, are, in Jesus and Jesus lives, is, in us On 14: 20). What does it mean to live in Jesus? For one thing, it requires us to remain in the word of God, allowing it to penetrate our March-Aplql 1996 Beha * Enclosed in the Mystery of yesus very being, shaping all our beliefs, our actions. It means living according to the holy gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ as every Christian professes to do. In practice, this may begin with a sim-ple willingness to takeup the Scriptures each day, remaining with them until the word of God sounds deep in our hearts, At each fresh reading of the gospel message, we ask: What is God's good news for me, today? What am I being called to say, to do, to refrain from saying, from doing? Over the course of time this abiding in the word of God begins to shape me, to shape us into gospel people. We become good news in our immediate environment, voices of encourage-ment, sources of strength even as we continue to grow in healthy awareness of our own weakness, for "when we are weak, then we are strong" (2 Co 12:10). As gospel people, we evangelize just in the living of our everyday lives. This remaining in the word of God that is an abiding in Jesus asks that more and more we live as Jesus lived. We think as Jesus thinks, "Let this mind be in you" (Ph 2:4), turning away from the preoccupation with self as well as the defensive criticism of oth-ers that often fill our thinking. Empowered by the Spirit of Jesus we speak as Jesus spoke, "with authority" (Mk 1:22), no longer threatened by fear or plagued by self-doubt. In Jesus, our lives teach, our touch heals. In Jesus we reach out to the poor, the sick, the troubled, the outcasts. The point of our remaining is not to recreate the past of Jesus' life in any literal sort of way. We are not first-century Palestinian Jews. For each of us, to live in Jesus requires fidelity to the cir-cumstances of'our lives. I need to ask: What is the mind of Jesus on my questions, the problematic situations of my days? What does Jesus say to the pleasure and pain that texture my days, the dailyness of my work, my leisure? In the silent spaciousness of the enclosure, these questions become, not pious, exercises, but literal necessities. I need to discover some specifics of an answer. Essential to such remaining in Jesus is the conviction that Jesus already remains in me. "Abide, dwell, live, in me, as I in you." How does Jesus live in me? In the constancy of faithful commitment, a covenant relationship begun in baptism and endur-ing through .all the circumstances of my life, unless repudiated by a definitive rejection on my part. Jesus lives my every activity; none are excluded as too ordinary, too human, too trivial. That is the truth revealed in the incarnation; it is the possibility of my Review for Religious baptism, but a reality that waits on the yes of my desire. Jesus enioys my joys, suffers in my pains, grows weary at the end of my days. His abiding presence remains a loving constant; only the unreali~ of sinfulness reduces my responsiveness. Unbelievably, we can and often do choose our own way rather than the way of Jesus. We temporize: not here, not yet. We assume control, seek-ing to fulfill ourselves. Fortunate the individuals who are open enough to realize such resistance and turn back. They find Jesus waiting, always there. Within enclosure the realization of our withdrawal, of the unsatisfying nature of our selfish pursuits, can come more quickly.There are fewer places to turn, more helps in returning and remaining faithful to Jesus living in us. Gradually, as Jesus lives more fully in us, we come to pray as he did: "Your kingdom come; your will be done" (Mt 6:10). This is where Jesus lived, where he remained: in the will of the Father. From the beginning of "I come to do your will" (Ps 40:8) to the end of "Not as I will but as you will" (Mk 32:36), Jesus had only one center, one place of peace, the will of the Father. If Jesus is to live ever more fully in us, we must stay in the same place. It must be at our every beginning so that it may be the end of all our endings. Sometimes it will be easy to accept God's will; at other times, costly. Ultimately, it will cost everything as we hand over our lives, with the same surrender of "into your hands" (Lk 23:46). This at the hour of death, but alsb in all the immediacy of today's letting go, for to live in Jesus is to die in daily surrender. Then eternity will be iust a continuation of that "remaining in Jesus" which has been the enclosed dwelling place of all our living. At each fresh reading of the gospel message we ask: What is God's good news for me, today? Conclusion Entering into enclosure is a matter of faith and hope. It is a lived expression of the belief that God is worth a whole life's seek-ing. Those who embrace the limits of enclosure find themselves freed for the paschal mystery of risen life through a going down into the valley of death-to-self and daily surrender. If they remain faithful, remaining in Jesus as Jesus remains in them, they will be March-April 1996 Beba ¯ Enclosed in the Mystery of Jesus transformed. No longe~: living for themselves, their lives "will be hidden now, with Christ, in God" (Col 3:3). This is what it means to live within the enclosure. This is to abide in the glory of that promise, "When Christ, who is your life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory" (Col 3:4). Who Am I? I am the woman tentatively touching the hem of Jesus' garment for healing, and having to tell what it is that ails me, and who and what have failed to heal me until now, all of Which was so much rubbish! I am the woman anxiously sweeping my floor in searchof the lost coin, the last coin I had to.live on. How happy I will be when I see it shining in the dust at my fee!! I am the Woman going into the temple putting that last coin of mine into the treasury. Then I will go home wondering whether it was wise of me to have relinquished the only treasure that I had! Bernadette McC~rrick RSM Review for Religiou.~ DANIEL J. HARRINGTON Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging This year I celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of my ordination to the Catholic priesthood in the New England province of the Society of Jesus. This year no one will be ordained a priest in our province. This year ten men will celebrate fifty years as priests, and fifteen men will observe their fiftieth anniversary as Jesuits. Priests and religious in the U.S.A. and Europe are aging, and so, too, religious life. As we grow older together, we surely need the intel-lectual and spiritual resources of our biblical tradition to help us along the way. Many people assume that aging and the elderly are major topics in the Bible. Perhaps they make this assump-tion because the early chapters of Genesis feature char-acters like Methuselah who live to great ages. Perhaps the reason is that the Bible, as an ancient and wise book, must have something important to say on these matters. But from a quantitative perspective aging and the elderly are not central concerns of the Bible. There is no lengthy biblical treatise.on aging and the elderly. Nor is there any uniform perspective in the rela-tively few texts that do deal with these topics. The more explicit treatments appear in the Old Testament. Old Testament Perspectives The people of the Old Testament lived in a traditional Daniel J. Harrington SJ is editor of New Testament Abstracts. His address is Weston Jesuit School of Theology; 3 Phillips Place; Cambridge, Massachusetts 02138. March-April 1996 Harrin~ton * Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging, The elderly were expected to be exemplars of wisdom and fear of the Lord. society in which the elderly were held in respect. Most biblical people did not reach the kind of old age that has become common at least in the U.S.A. and parts of Europe since 1950. And so in searching the Scriptures for wisdom on aging and the elderly we need to face from the start the differences between the Old Testament world and our own. We live in a society with little respect for tradition and social .status based on age, and with a great demandfor material productivity and accom-plishment. Moreover, our expanding life spans may be creating problems and possibilities that the bib-lical writers never imagined. Nevertheless, the Bible can contribute to developing a theology of aging today despite these obvious differences. Whatever one makes out of the life spans attributed to the patriarchs in Genesis 5 (930 years for Adam, 912 for Seth, 905 for Enosh, and so on), ordinary Israelites in the period covered in the his-torical books lived much shorter lives. It is safe to say that the lower classes lived between thirty years and fifty years (if they reached adulthood), that aris-tocrats lived between forty and sixty years, and that all regarded a life between seventy and eighty years as an elusive ideal. It was assumed that the elderly showed signs of aging (gray hair, beards for men), and began to experience physical infirmities. The com-mandment to honor one's parents in the Decalogue (Ex 20:12; Dt 5:16) was understood as applying primarily to adults and as urging them to care for their aging parents. It was regarded as a social norm and a divine command to respect older people: "You shall rise before the aged, and defer to the old; and you shall fear your God: 'I am the Lord'" (Lv 19:32). The elderly themselves were expected to be exemplars of wis-dom and fear of the Lord. Male and female elders had the task and privilege of handing on the social and religious tradit~ions. The critical treatments of elders in .lob and Qoheleth only serve to emphasize that in this traditional society the elderly were sup-posed to have an important place. As the testament-of-Jacob scene (see Gn 49) shows, the ideal was to die surrounded by many off-spring and to hand on property and land to one's children. The positive picture of old age in the Old Testament tradition is best stated in a block of random sayings in Sirach 25:3-6. Ben ' Sira, a wisdom teacher of Jerusalem around 200 B.C., concluded Review for Religious his lists of pleasant and hateful things (25:1-2) by expressing a loathing for "an old fool who commits adultery." By a thematic connection he then outlines some positive teachings about aging and the elderly: 3. If you gathered nothing in your youth, how can you find anything in our old age? 4. How attractive is sound judg-ment in the gray-haired, and for the aged to possess good counsel! 5. How attractive is wisdom in the aged, and under-standing and counsel in the venerable! 6. Rich experience is the crown of the aged, and their boast is the fear of the Lord. The three sayings (25:3, 4-5, 6) are only loosely connected by subject matter. The first saying (25:3) makes the point that the quality of one's old age--wise or foolish--grows out of the quality of one's youth. A foolish young person will probably grow into a foolish old person. The mere fact of old age does not work a drastic personal transformation. The second saying (25:4-5) lists the ideal characteristics of the elderly as sound judgment, good counsel, wisdom, and under-standing. These characteristics are basically synonyms; they all refer to the wisdom that is attractive in all people, especially in the elderly. The third saying (2 5:6) acknowledges the life experience of the elderly as a "crown" and holds out as the most important quality of the elderly the "fear of the Lord." Fear of the Lord is one of the chief themes in the biblical wisdom books and in Sirach in particular. It proceeds from an accurate assessment of who God is and who we are before God. It is not the fear that proceeds from anxiety and issues in avoidance or flight. Rather, it refers to the respect and awe that God deserves. That attitude of respect is the beginning of wisdom (see Si 1:14). From it, according to Ben Sira and the other sages, will flow whatever wisdom is necessary for finding one's way through the tests and trials of life. Wisdom and fear of the Lord are two sides of the same coin and express the positive ideal of aging in the Bible. The negative aspects of old age are best described in another wisdom book, Qoheleth (or Ecclesiastes). Here the focus is the decrepitude and death that are part of old age. In the final chap-ter (12) of his book, Qoheleth has clothed a depressing message in a series of exquisitely drawn images. The message is that old age means loss of pleasure, physical infirmity, fear, and death. Qoheleth's picture of the afterlife is shadowy at best: "The dead March-April 1996 Harrington ¯ Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging know nothing; they have no more reward, and even the memory of them is lost" (9:5). So for him the death that accompanies old age is all the more final. 1. Remember your creator in the days of your youth, before the days of trouble come, and the years draw near when you will say, "I have no pleasure in them"; 2. before the sun and the light and the moon and the stars are darkened and the clouds return with the rain; 3. in the day when the guards of the house tremble, and the strong men are bent, and the women who grind cease working because they are few, and those who look through the windows see dimly; 4. when the doors on the street are shut, and the sound of the grinding is low, and one rises up at the sound of a bird, and all the daughters of song are brought low; 5. when one is afraid of heights, and terrors are in the road; the almond tree blossoms, the grasshopper drags itself along and desire fails; because all must go to their eternal home, and the mourners will go about the streets; 6. before the silver cord is snapped, and the golden bowl is broken, and the pitcher is broken at.the fountain, and the wheel broken at the cis-tern, 7. and the dust returns to the earth as it was, and the breath returns to God who gave it. 8 Vanity of vanities, says the Teacher; all is vanity. The one addressed is urged to face the negative realities of old age ("days of trouble") when even the prospect of the years to come gives no pleasure and life seems to be dark and stormy (12:1-2). In a beautiful but disquieting set of images Qoheleth compares the process of aging to the decay of a house fallen into disrepair (12:3-4): loss of eyesight and hearing, loss of teeth with which to chew, and inability to sleep soundly. Then with other images he calls attention to the fear, the loss of desire, and the obsession with death that can be part of old age (12:5). Death is described with images of breaking the silver cord, the golden bowl, the pitcher, and the wheel (12:6). In death the body becomes dust and returns to the earth, while the breath "returns to God who gave it" (12:7), not to immortality or resurrection but at best to the shadowy existence described in 9:5. Death, like all of life (see 1:1- 11), is empty, mere "wind," without lasting substance (12:8). Old age as Qoheleth paints it with his marvelous images is painful and depressing. Young people should enjoy life while they can. The ideal of old age is fullness of wisdom and fear of the Lord (Si 25:3-6). The reality of old age may well involve bodily infir-mity, loss of physical and emotional powers, and fear; death is Review Jbr Religious inevitable (Qoh 12:1-8). In the Jewish tradition it is the duty of adult children to care for their aging parents. That obligation is clearly stated in the Decalogue: "Honor your father and your mother, so that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you" (Ex 20:12; Dt 5:16). Starting from the commandment in the Decalogue, Ben Sira in Sirach 3:1-16 presents an instruction on the duties of adult children to their aging parents. After addressing his pupils as a father addresses a son (3:1), he gives some reasons why children should care for their parents: 1. Listen to me your father, O children; act accordingly, that you may be kept in safety. 2. For the Lord honors a father above his children, and he confirms a mother's right over her children. 3. Those who honor their father atone for sins, 4. and those who respect their mother are like those who lay up treasure. 5. Those who honor their father will have joy in their own children, and when they pray they will be heard. 6. Those who respect their father will have a long life, and those who honor their mother obey the Lord; 7. they will serve their parents as their masters. Caring for one's elderly parents conforms to the divine order of creation (3:2), atones for sins and merits spiritual treasures (3:3-4), gives good example to one's own children (3:5a), ensures that one's prayers will be heard (3:5b) and that one will live a long life (3:6a), and honors God (3:6b). Ben Sira (and all the biblical writers) lived in a society in which honor and shame were important values. How one appeared to others and in relation to them was very significant, far more so than in our modern individualistic cultures. Failure to honor one's parents brings a curse from them and disgrace in the eyes of others: 8. Honor your father by word and deed, that his blessing may come upon you. 9. For a father's blessing strengthens the houses of the children, but a mother's curse uproots their foundations. 10. Do not glorify yourself by dishon-oring your father, for your father's dishonor is no glory to you. 11. The glory of one's father is one's own glory, and it is a disgrace for children not to respect their mother. The final part (3:12-16) of Ben Sira's instruction gives par-ticular attention to the situation of caring for a parent who loses mental abilities ("even if his mind fails"). It recommends patience and fidelity and promises a reward from God: March-April 1996 Harrington ¯ Biblical Contributions to a Theology of Aging 12. My child, help your father in his old age, and do not grieve him as long as he lives; 13. even if his mind fails, be patient with him; because you have all your faculties do not despise him. 14. For kindness to a fathe~ will not be for-gotten, and will be credited to you against your sins; 15. in the day of your distress it will be remembered in your favor; like frost in fair weather, your sins will melt away. 16. Whoever forsakes a father is like a blasphemer, and whoever angers a mother is cursed by the Lord. Ben Sira's insistence on care for one's parents as leading to forgiveness of sins (3.'3, 14) is especially interesting in light of his own shadowy concepts of afterlife and his enthusiastic support for the Temple's system of sin-offerings and sacrifices. He appar-ently regarded faithful and patient service of one's parents as a privileged way of atoning for one's sins in this life. The three wisdom texts that we have looked at say much of what there is to say about old age and the elderly in the Old Testament. Indeed, they summarize most of the wisdom about these topics outside the Bible and into the present. Their con-tent would have been taken for granted by people in New Testament times. New Testament Perspectives The New Testament does not explicitly offer new and radically different teachings on aging and the elderly. What it does offer is an outline of spirituality that can help aging people and others to confront the reality of old age in faith and confidence. The Old Testament story of salvation began with God's call to Abraham in Genesis 12 and the promise to make of his descen-dants % great nation." We are told that Abraham was seventy-five years old when he departed from Haran (12:4). God's promise was then fulfilled through the birth of Isaac when "Abraham and Sarah were old, advanced in age" (18:11). Thus the history of God's people begins in an unlikely and improbable way--from a child born to a very old couple (21:5). According to Luke, the story of salvation through Jesus Christ began with the elderly couple Zechariah and Elizabeth and with the birth of John the Baptist to them. Likewise, the birth of Jesus is properly evaluated and proclaimed by Simeon and Anna in the Jerusalem Temple. These two figures represent the best features of Old Testament piety. Simeon is described as "righteous and Review for Religiotls devout, looking forward to the consolation of Israel" (Lk 2:25). He is granted the privilege of seeing and proclaiming the newborn Messiah before his death: "Master, now you are dismissing your servant in peace." (Lk 2:29). Anna also, at the age of eighty-four, culminates a long life of piety by praising God and speaking "about the child to all who were looking for the redemption of Jerusalem" (2:38). These two elderly representatives of God's people see in the child Jesus what the religious and political lead-ers of Israel failed to see in Jesus the adult. It is intriguing that elderly people--Abraham and Sarah-- begin the history of salvation according to Genesis, and that elderly people-~Zechariah and Elizabeth, and Simeon and Anna-- recognize clearly the new and definitive chapter in this history that began with the birth of Jesus. These elderly people exem-plify the wisdom and fear of the Lord that are the biblical ideals of old age. They speak the language of the Scriptures (especially Second Isaiah) to proclaim eschatological fullness in Jesus the Messiah. Their openness to God and trust in God allow God to use them as unlikely instruments in the history of salvation. The ways of God are very surprising. While Simeon and Anna provide positive models for elderly people who are serious about the surprising ways of God, we can-not disregard the negative aspects of old age so well described by Qoheleth. Although the New Testament does not deal explicitly with this topic, there are New Testament texts that speak elo-quently to us as we face the physical infirmities and fears that accompany old age. Like Ben Sira and Qoheleth, Jesus was a wisdom teacher. One of the earliest and most eloquent teachings we have from Jesus is his instruction about dealing with anxiety in Luke 12:22-31 (see Mt 6:25-34): 22. He said to his disciples, "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat, or about your body, what you will wear. 23. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothing. 24. Consider the ravens: they nei-ther sow nor reap, they have neither storehouse nor barn, and yet God feeds them. Of how much more value are you than the birds! 25. And can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your span of life? 26. If then you are not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest? 27. Consider the lilies, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not clothed like one of these. 28. But if God so clothes the Marcb-~lpril 1996 Ha~ngton ¯ Biblical Cont~butions to a Theology of Aging grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, how much more will he clothe you-- you of little faith! 29. And do not keep striving for what you are to eat and what you are to drink, and do not keep worrying. 30. For it is the nations of the world that strive after all these things, and your Father knows that you need them. 31. Insteakl strive for his kingdom, and these things will be given ~o you as well. Though not directly addressed to elderly people, this instruc-tion concerns issues and questions that disturb elderly people especially: How long will I live? What will I eat? What about my health? What will I.wear? Jesus deals with these issues on two fronts. On the one hand, he exposes the futility of anxiety: It does not achieve anything positive (see 12:25-26). Simply telling peo-ple not to worry is not enough to combat anxiety. Jesus places before us some positive considerations about God's care for us and about God's kingdom as the goal of our lives. He first insists that life is more than food or clothing (12:23), and then urges us to consider how God feeds the birds (12:24) and clothes the lilies in splendor (12:27-28). If God so cares for birds and flowers, how much more does God care for us human beings. Jesus reminds us that God already knows what we need (12:30). The primary goal should be striving for God's kingdom, and everything else will fall into place. (12:31). There is great wisdom in this instruction, and it is particularly pertinent to elderly people. But sometimes anxiety turns into reality. Few of us leave this world without experiencing physical or emotional suffering. Here the apostle Paul has some eloquent things to say. Paul took over early Christian formulas of faith that describe Jesus' suffering and death as "for us" or "for our sins" (see Rm 3:25-26; 1 Co 11:24; 15:3). He himself used similar formulas as a matter of course (see Rm 5:6; 14:15; 2 Co 5:14,'21; Ga 1:4; 3:13). These expressions affirm that Jesus as God's servant (see Is 52:13-53:12) suffered and died on our behalf, and so made available to all--Jews and Gentiles alike--right relationship with God and the possibility of eternal salvation. We are saved through Christ's suffering. According to Paul, Christian life involves participation in Jesus' suffering and death as well as his resurrection: "We have been buried with him by baptism into death" (Rm 6:4). This shar-ing continues after baptism: "For just as the sufferings of Christ are abundant for us, so also our consolation is abundant through Christ" (2 Co 1:5). Elsewhere Paul says that we always carry "in Review for Religious the body the death of Jesus" (2 Co 4:10). Paul's ideal for himself and for every Christian is to be "conformed" to Christ; that is, to take on the very "shape" (morphe) of Christ: "I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his suf-ferings by becoming like him in his death" (Ph 3:10). For mil-lions of suffering Christians, identification with Christ and participation in his sufferings have provided meaning and comfort in the midst of suffer-ing, and still do. In the Deuteropauline letter to the Colossians the theme of sharing Christ's suf-ferings takes an unusual turn: "In my flesh I am completing what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church" (Col 1:24). This cannot mean that there is something deficient in the rec-onciliation brought about by Jesus' death and resurrection. The whole New Testament and Colossians 1:19-20 in particular stress the sufficiency of Jesus' sacrificial death. What then does Paul's suffering fill up? The key expression is "Christ's afflictions," or, more accurately, the "tribu-lations (or, woes) of the Messiah." According to contemporary Jewish texts (I Enoch 47:1-4; 2 Baruch 30:2) God has set a limit to the tribulations associated with the Messiah's coming. The state-ment in Colossians 1:24 applies Paul's sufferings to that fixed amount of suffering that must occur before God's kingdom arrives in its fullness. Thus Paul's suffering shortens the time before the fullness of God's kingdom (see Mk 13:20) and contributes to the faster vindication of God's church. This text, which has been a great inspiration to suffering (elderly or not) people, needs to be understood in its proper theological and historical context. Other Pauline texts provide important advice for elderly per-sons (and others) who suffer. In 2 Corinthians 12, Paul, in answer-ing the critics of his ministry as an apostle, boasts about his weaknesses rather than about his strengths and accomplishments. He does so on the basis of what the Lord said to him: "My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Co 12:9). In a world that associates power with strength, Paul reminds us that the true power of God is manifested most bril-liantly in the weak---as was the case with Abraham and Sarah, and with Simeon and Anna. Few of us leave this world without experiencing physical or emotional suffering. March-April 1996 Harrington ¯ Biblical Contributio~.~n~.to~ Tb__eo,~lo.~f~A.~n,.g' Eternal life for Christians, according to Paul, begins with baptism, since eternal life comes from participating in Jesus' death and resurrection (see Rm 6:1-11). Therefore death and sin no longer exercise absolute dominion over us. We are already living our eternal life. It does not begin at the moment of our death. The line between physical life and physical death is no longer de

Issue 54.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1995. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Mis'souri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 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. ©1995Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for com~nercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1995 ¯ VOLUME54 ¯ NVUMBER4 contents 486 499 5O8 mission Twenty Inner-City Years Joanna Bramble, CSJ explores feelings, questions, and insights from her effort to revitalize an inner-city neighborhood and empower its people. Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor Margaret MaW Knittel RSM raises some questions which suggest a fluidity of vision and a loosening of ties in regard to corporate sponsorship and the fruits of our labor. Retirement's Wisdom Years Catherine M. Harmer MMS proposes that retirement for religious may be a time of deepening wisdom and individuation and a time for a greater spirituality to emerge. 519 531 guidance The Enneagram Tad Dunne examines understandings of the enneagram and suggests ways of moving to a larger world of meaning and values. Imaging Spiritual Direction Mary Vginifred CHS discusses guidelines for spiritual direction and presents three images illustrative of the relationship between director and directee. 535 56O heritage The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs Mary C. Sullivan RSM highlights the prayer of personal conversion wi{h its many gifts as captured by Teresa of Avila in her rich metaphor of "dwelling places." Playing with Edged Tools Donald Macdonald SMNI allows the thought of John Henry Newman to enter us into a richer appreciation of vowed public profession as a part of radical gospel living. 482 Review for Religious spirituality 566 How Am I Doing? Signs of a Healthy Spirituality Melannie Svoboda SND suggests some indicators for checking on how healthy our spirituality is. 573 Appreciating God through Creation Roderick Payne OFM illuminates the heritage of St. Francis to draw attention to some aspects of prayer through creation. 585 589 594 6OO religious life Individualism and Rel!gious Life John Gallagher CSB reflects on three options dealing with the compatibility of contemporary individualism in relation to religious life. Psychological Screening for Religious Life Kevin E. McKenna reviews the help given by the Code of Canon Law for religious congregations attempting to form a consistent policy regarding psychological reports at the time of admission and the maintenance of personnel records. Reformulating the Religious Vows William Reiser SJ reviews the meaning of vows in religious life and suggests that an option for the poor might be a promise for our times. Let's Talk Again about Poverty Richard J. DeMaria CFC probes the meaning of poverty for religious-life practice today. ¯departments 484 Prisms 615 Canonical Counsel: Cloister for Nuns: From the Early Centuries to the 1917 Code 622 Book Reviews ~tuly-August 1995 483 prisms Pope John Paul's two recent docu-ments offer vision and direction: the apostolic letter Orientale lumen (The Light of the East) and the encyclical Ut unum sint (On Commitment to Ecumenism). More than helps to enter into the third millennium, they issue a call to conversion. In Orientale lumen the pope emphasizes that our Eastern Catholic and our Orthodox brothers and sisters are earnest bearers of a venerable and ancient tradition integral to the church's heritage. He calls for all members of the church's Latin tradition to become fully acquainted with this treasure. He desires us all to be fired by a pas-sionate longing that the church's catholicity become man-ifest to church members themselves and to the world, a catholicity comprising the several traditions together rather than in opposition to one another. John Paul uses monasticism as a special vantage point from which we can identify values important today for expressing the contribution of the Christian East to the journey of Christ's church towards the kingdom. In the East, monasticism, which did not experience the differ-ent kinds of apostolic life as in the West, is seen not merely as a separate category of Christians, but rather as a refer-ence point for all the baptized, according to the gifts offered to each by the Lord. John Paul singles out the common traits uniting the monastic experience of the East and the West and forming a bridge of fellowship, "where unity as it is lived shines even more brightly than may appear in the dialogue between the churches." lie empha-sizes the splendid witness of nuns in the Christian East: "This witness has offered an example of giving full value in the church to what is specifically feminine, even break- 484 Review for Religious ing through the mentality of the time. During recent persecu-tions, especially in Eastern European countries, when many male monasteries were forcibly closed, female monasticism kept the torch of the monastic life burning. The nun's charism, with its own specific characteristics, is a visible sign of that motherhood of God to which Sacred Scripture often refers" (9). Among the values reflected in monasticism for the life of the church, the pope highlights 1) a balance in Christian life lived as a personal response to an individual call and as an ecclesial and community event; 2) a liturgy revealing the proper harmony of the baptized-in-Christ and the eucharistic meaning of all creation; 3) a maturing journey in terms of knowing self and being free and able to love as Jesus loves; 4) a tradition of spiritual guidance from brothers and sisters to whom the Spirit has granted this gift; 5) a community showing us a life of communion and service beginning in the family and extending to the wider community; 6) a unity of theology and spirituality deriving from the triune God--the principle and foundation of the Christian understand-ing that the human person is meant for and made for relation-ship; and 7) an all-pervading mystery, enveloped in awe, with which the face of our God presents us. In still wider ways the encyclical Ut unum sint continues the call to deepen the unity we seek with one another and with God. Insisting that the unity of all Christians is God's will and is at the heart of the mission Christ entrusted to his followers, John Paul begs forgiveness for times when Catholics and the papacy itself have contributed to the divisions among Christians and calls for discussion about ways in which the pope can exercise power and authority in a reunited church. He notes that a heritage of saints belonging to all communities provides hope for the dialogue of conversion. "When we speak of a common heritage, we must acknowledge as part of it not only the institutions, rites, means of salvation and the traditions which all the communities have pre-served and by which they have been shaped, but first and foremost this reality of holiness" (84). The urgency of building for the future out of the strengths of Christian heritages marks both of these papal writings. We, like the pope, need to set our sights on this unifying and evangelizing mission of all Christians, thereby living up to religious life's own spiritual heritages. David L. Fleming sJ a~uly-August 1995 485 rnissJon JOANNA BRAMBLE Twenty Inner-City Years After almost twenty years of working towards the revital-ization of West Oakland, a depressed inner-city neigh-borhood, I took a year's sabbatical of travel and spiritual enrichment. In the middle of that year, I decided not to return as director of Jubilee West, the Community Development Corporation I had helped to create. I real-ized that I had unresolved feelings about my years in West Oakland, feelings and questions that I needed to work through before I could move on to the next steps in my work for justice. The reflections below document my liv-ing with those questions. What are my usual feelings about Jubilee West? I feel proud of what it has accomplished, but often I feel deep sadness for the people whose lives have changed very lit-tle, especially the ones I knew well and tried the hardest to help. I feel deep sadness at the unemployment, the drugs, the depressed people, and the piles of garbage that are evident with only a brief drive through the neighbor-hood. I often have an overwhelming sense of failure and powerlessness: so much of my life, love, work, anxiety, joy, hope . . . and so many people still with such con-stricted lives! I feel sadness and grief that the neighbor-hood where I worked for so long was worse after twenty Joanna Bramble CSJ is a consultant to nonprofit organizations in management and program analysis and a member of the provincial council of the Los Angeles province of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet. Her address is 529 Jean Street; Oakland, California 94610. 486 Review for Religious years than it was before. It is not that our work did not change anything or made it worse; it just could never do enough. But the main cause of continuing disintegration in that neigh-borhood is not my and others' lack of effort or creative ideas. It is high unemployment and the increasing sale and use of drugs, along with other systemic oppression. How do I keep aware of the interrelatedness of many situations and people and things and somehow see my place as both important and unimportant? What was the situation I came to in 1973? And what did I want to achieve? The 1970 census and the Oakland 701 Study gave the following statistics about the West of Cypress area: ¯ 80 percent black and 18 percent Mexican American ¯ median family income: $3,941 ¯ unemployment rate 26.3 percent for men, 35.7 percent for women ¯ 50 percent of families on welfare; mean welfare income $2,110 ¯ 90 percent of the houses had been expected to be unusable by 1969 (most of these houses are still standing in 1995) ¯ median number of school years completed: 8.4 ¯ 24 percent of people over twenty-five years of age were high school graduates Residents listed their major problems as limited incomes and a high rate of unemployment, extremely poor housing, and poor-quality education. All of these problems still exist and are complex and interrelated. I chose to come to this depressed environment from eleven years of teaching English in white, suburban Catholic high schools. I had interest, concern, compassion, energy, enthusiasm, high hopes . . . and two months of training in community orga-nizing. I remember walking through the neighborhood and mentally singing the words to "Anatevka" from Fiddler on the Roof, newly popular then. The song speaks of the nothingness of the town: "people who pass through Anatevka do not even know they have been here., someone should have set a match to this place years ago." That is what West Oakland looked like to me. But the song goes on to describe Anatevka as home: "where else could Sabbath be so sweet., where I know everyone I meet." That too was West Oakland. It did not take me long to get to know friendly people, many of whom had lived there for years. I walked the streets and .~ly-August 199~ 487 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years sat in people's kitchens to discuss neighborhood problems. Soon some longtime residents and I started the West Oakland Improvement Association. What did I want to achieve? Mainly, I did not want a repeat of Anatevka; I did not want people displaced to make room for gentrification or other forms of development. In 1974 I wrote that my major goal was to help increase the peo-ple's awareness of their power to direct their own lives. Over the next twenty years, I became more deeply aware of the immense problems in people's lives and in the physical neigh-borhood. What I wanted to do both stayed the same and evolved, as did the strategies we used. Always there was the goal of empow-erment. As a community organizer I wanted us to win on issues that people had chosen as urgent concerns. More importantly, I wanted to build an organization that could continue to empower people and revitalize the neighborhood. We won on many issues. Our victories brought pride and increased self-confidence to a number of neighborhood people. But building an organization never really happened. People seemed too concerned with per-sonal survival to stay involved very long. It became more and more difficult to talk with people about community problems when they were concerned with getting enough food for their kids, paying the rent, and dealing with drug problems. These survival issues prompted me and my good friend Sister Pat Sears to start St. Patrick's Center at the Campbell Village Housing Project, where we saw to basic necessities, providing food, clothes, counseling, and a youth program. But decent afford-able housing remained the most urgent problem. Concern about people who were being displaced or were living in substandard housing, inspiration from Jubilee Housing in Washington, D.C., lots of participation from neighborhood people and suburban friends, and awillingness to step into the unknown with faith and hope led me and Pat to start Jubilee West as a nonprofit Community Development Corporation in 1980. We immediately began to buy and fix houses for poverty-level people even though we knew nothing about real estate or construction and had almost no money. Jubilee West also continued and expanded the com-munity services and youth programs begun at St. Patrick's Center. What successes can Jubilee West celebrate over the last fifteen years? Eighty units of scattered-site housing, most of it perma-nently affordable to poverty-level families: five million dollars in property assets removed from speculation and able to be con- 488 Review for Religious trolled by the community far into the future; hundreds of children helped with tutoring and enrichment; many others helped with mentoring and private scholarships to attend college; hundreds of adults placed in jobs, coming to literacy and ESL classes, or receiv- .ing emergency food, clothing, and needed counseling; and an his-toric building rehabilitated to accommodate various community events and to house the offices for other services. When I left, Jubilee West had a committed board of directors, a staff of varying degrees of competence, and a good funding base, although financial crises were and continue to be frequent. So why do I frequently feel like a failure? Mainly because I very much wanted to do something "for the people in the houses" more than just fixing houses and lowering rents and because I feel that most people's lives are not changed very much from what they were before. As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never mar-ried, with three or four children from different fathers. She has about a tenth-grade education, has never held a paying job, has very poor nutrition, and probably has an alcohol or drug problem. If she is not in JW housing or other subsidized housing, she may pay as much as 60 or 70 percent of her AFDC income in rent, leaving her less than $200 per month for all other expenses. She has no car, and so her experiences and those of her children are mostly limited to the West Oakland neighborhood. She appears depressed and apathetic or else quite hostile. So what did I wantJW to do for this woman? I wanted us to empower her to enrich her own life. What did I mean by this? How would I hope to be able to describe her after a .few years? I have thought a lot about my hopes for her, and I recently became aware that they are similar to my unrealistic goals for myself: As I grew to know West Oakland people, I came to be most concerned about what I experienced as the "typical" resident. She is a woman about thirty years old, never married, with three or four children from different fathers. .~uly-/lugust 199~ 489 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years I want her to have succeeded in or be in the process of get-ting off drugs, getting more education, finding a job and then a better job, stabilizing her family, getting enough income to move out of subsidized housing, deepening her spiritual values, becoming more psychologically whole, building community with her neighbors, keeping her house clean, taking care of her kids, and working for change in the neighborhood through participating in JW and other organizations. I want her to stay in the neighborhood or come back after she succeeds in order to help the commu-nity work for justice. As I write this, it seems so unrealistic that I want to add face-tiously that she should also be thin and beautiful, but not care too much about her looks. Obviously, one reason I feel like a fail-ure is that I had very unrealizable expectations. Only a few peo-ple could achieve the hbove, and only with superhuman effort or lots of good luck. I wanted my "typical" person to be aware of her power to change and control her own life. That sounds like a good goal. But perhaps my biggest mistake was that I did not give enough conscious acknowledgment to the reality of systemic oppression. When she tries to change in other than very small ways, she runs up against huge obstacles that make it exceedingly difficult if not impossible for her to "control her own life." Only a few really "win" in her situation; but, because those few do win, she feels that she too should be able to win. She blames herself and society also blames her, telling her in many ways that it is her fault. In some ways I contribute to this when I talk about "self-help" without at the same time talking about systemic oppres-sion. Her self-blame does not give her more energy to "fight the system" and to make small and then larger changes in her life; instead it leads to depression, apathy, or hostility. Similarly my self-blame, my feeling myself a failure for not being able to empower her, does not give me more energy to fight the system; in me also it leads to depression, apathy, and sometimes hostility. Issues of injustice in economics, politics, and education are profoundly interrelated. A minimum wage that inserts working people into the poverty level without enough money to pay the rent, a business economy dependent on a certain percent of unem-ployment, thousands of job layoffs so that even many people with good educations are unlikely to keep their jobs that pay a living wage, unjust distribution of wealth including "hidden" subsidies 490 Review for Religious for the rich (whereby more money is "spent" on tax write-offs for interest on home-ownership loans than on all the housing programs for the poor), drug traffic that brings huge profits to a few wealthy people, a welfare system that discourages work, the worst schools usually in the poorest areas, housing thought of as an investment for profit rather than a home to live in, pervasive discrimination against minorities, especially African-American males--these are only a few examples of the interconnected sys-tems that cause my "typical" person's situation. I have known all this for a long time. Did I fail to keep it in my awareness because I felt I could do little about it and I like solvable problems? In any case, I concentrated on self-help pro-grams-- how soon I found that often they do not succeed either! Each person in any self-help program must "choose life" for her-self, of course, and begin to act on her own behalf while at the same time society, "the system," must stop oppressing her. Both are interrelated. But as I reflected on my Jubilee West experience, I still heard the same familiar inner voices of my own self-blame. If only I had been smarter, worked harder, tried something more creative, then I could have made a bigger dent in solving these problems. At this point I was fortunate to come across the book Surplus Powerlessness by Michael Lerner. Lerner first talks about real pow-erlessness, the reality of an unequal distribution of power in this society: If a small number of us try to change things, we will run up against a brick wall. In fact, even if millions of people were to engage in activity to change things, in the short run we would find our society very difficult to change. The brick wall is not just a subjective illusion. The basic fact is this: American society is a class-dom-inated society. A small number of people have vast eco-nomic power while the overwhelming.majority has almost no power in the economic realm. Economic power gives that small group a huge amount of political power. While the rest of us have some political power, it takes vast expen-ditures of energy and time to win small victories. But to say that the elites of wealth and power have over-whelming power is not to say that they have absolute power. Things could be quite different if many people were to engage in the struggle for change. It would be a real strug-gle- and there would be many difficult defeats.~ After talking about realpowerlessness, Lerner describes surplus ~uly-Augus~ 199Y 4.91 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years powerlessness as "the set of feelings and beliefs that make people think of themselves as even more powerless than the actual power sit-uation requires, and then leads them to act in ways that actually con-firm them in their powerlessness." He is describing me when he shows how many activists continually manage to redefine the con-ditions of success in such a way that they always feel "one down" for not having accomplished enough; they redefine their victo-ries as failures and do not credit their own real accomplishments. I certainly do that often. Lerner reminds us that when society claims it is set up in a fundamentally fair way, in which people can make it if they really try, powerlessness is seen as a product of the individual's personal failures. Thus self-blame becomes the central element in surplus powerlessness. It grows stronger every time we blame ourselves for having failed in some important way and have no compassion for ourselves in view of all the ways that reality pushes us to be less than we want to be. Taking responsibility for one's own life works only for the part of the population and for the societal issues where objective conditions allow for real change. People need help to distinguish between factors out of their control about which they could be legitimately angry and factors that would change if they changed how they thought about themselves and how they lived their own lives. Surplus powerlessness, self-blame, deflects attention from the real problems and hence from any real solutions. The anger that might be reasonably directed against a social order which gener-ates personal unhappiness is instead directed inwards and becomes depression or a dangerous buildup of repressed violence. But Lerner's next point is also part of my" experience. Once people are no longer disempowered by self-blaming, they are in a better position to change their environment. Surplus power-lessness can be lessened by supportive group interaction and by developing compassion, showing people that the problems they face do not come from personal inadequacies, but are faced by others as well, and that people need one another's help in facing these problems. My reflection on Lerner's concept of surplus powerlessness shows me that I have been blaming the victims, both my typical West Oakland person and myself. I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. 492 Review for Religious But, to avoid the extreme of blaming others for my problems, I frequently go to the extreme of not giving much acknowledg-ment to the real powerlessness in my life, to the real systems that are oppressing me as well as my typical West Oakland person. At this point in my reflection, I read Joanna Macy's books Despair and Personal Power and World as Lover, World as Self about the need to feel pain, experience it, work through it: my pain and the pain of others. I see that as a big clue for me. I went back to my sabbatical journal written in Washington, D.C., in 1992. One of the questions in Mary Cosby's class on "call" was "What is your deepest pain?" I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much personal pain. Actually my greatest pain seems to be feel-ing the pain of others: so many homeless people on the street, so many hurting children, so much violence in the world., and feel-ing powerless to do very much about any of this." A few days later at a creative-movement session I felt overcome by sorrow and tears. I kept feeling, saying, crying to myself: "I didn't know how to make it better for people. I am so sad about that ¯ ¯ . sad because people were not helped, not so much that I couldn't help but that they weren't helped., thinking of Sylvia, Spring, Connie, Deedee, Charetta, Pat, A1, Brenda . . . tears because I couldn't do it, but more because life did not change for them . " I remember feeling that I must be avoiding some deeper personal pain if the major pain I was aware of was pain for the world, for other people. Now I see that a major need for me is to feel my pain, which greatly includes pain for the world. Joanna Macy says in Despair and Personal Power: "We have trouble cred-iting the notion that concerns for the general welfare might be acute enough to cause distress., but pain for our world touches each of us, and this pain is rooted in caring., our apparent pub-lic apathy is but a fear of experiencing and expressing this pain, and once it is acknowledged and shared it opens the way to our power." 2 I have definitely internalized the American way that tells me that, if I have a problem, I should take care of it, work to change it, and not blame someone else. July-August 199Y 493 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years During that semester in 1992, I picked up an old journal from 1988, specifically looking for how I dealt at that time with my pain over the distressing situations I experienced daily at Jubilee West. A pattern seemed to be: I would run into a small or large problem that was usually a symptom of a larger systemic problem; feel frustrated and ptwerless; think I should be able to solve it; blame myself because I could not; go to bed depressed, wake up with somehow more energy ready to try again, to think up some new way to address the problem . . . but rarely allow myself to really feel my own pain and sadness. Although many people were involved in Jubilee West, I always felt myself ultimately respon-sible. I also frequently neglected my deep need to gift myself with beauty and nourishment for my soul. I have always felt a great desire for silence, solitude, beauty, prayer--for finding ways to experience the sacred in all of life. But I often let compulsive efforts to solve problems rob me of the centeredness necessary for living and acting from a contemplative way of being. As a step in the process of"living the questions" and of writ-ing this article, I walked around the West Oakland neighborhood visiting some of my longtime friends. I had not been able to do this since leaving Jubilee West three years ago; when we moved away last fall, I just disappeared without telling many people that I was going. So this walk was a pilgrimage for remembering and finding cause to grieve and cause to rejoice. What do I learn for myself from all of this reading and reflec-tion and from my recent pilgrimage of walking in West Oakland? What does my inner wisdom tell me? What follows are some exploratory answers as I live the questions: 1. Feel your pain, take time for it. your personal pain and that of the West Oakland people that you care about, and the world that 'faces the possibility of total destruction. Allowing myself to feel pain is hard to do; I am more used to giving thirty seconds to pain and then moving on to possible solu-tions. But, on my walk through West Oakland, I was more able to be with the pain of what I experienced: my own fear when I went into Campbell Village by myself because of what I know of the violence, drugs, and crime that are always there; the usual mounds of garbage everywhere, especially in front of my friend Sally's apartment; Sally's son in jail for using and selling drugs--I remem-ber him as a cute, loving eight-year-old; the fifteen or twenty men on the corner of 14th and Peralta as they always are--drink- 494 Review for Reh~ious ing and buying drugs; Trisha's house boarded up because she was evicted for drug activity, when she had been one of Jubilee West's most promising tenants. 2. Feelyourjoy also and others' joy as well: celebrate small suc-cesses, continue the lifelong task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." My walk through West Oakland gave me many opportunities for experiencing joy. It felt good to remember all the times I have been in people's houses having coffee and conversation. My friend Joanne greeted me with a big hug, and we laughed over old times together. Two of her children are doing very well, she is enjoying her job taking care of hand-icapped people, she still feels empow-ered by the victories we achieved together many years ago, and her sense of humor is still spectacular. Annie also greeted me with open arms; she is an elderly woman who owns her own home and several oth-ers in the neighborhood, though all of them are in various stages of disrepair. As I sat in her tiny kitchen, she asked me who she could get to help her change her will, and I remembered how hard it was, many years ago, to convince her to make a will at all. My last stop was Charles Garcia, who because of our orga-nizing efforts scraped up $1,700 twenty years ago to buy the falling-apart house he was living in--a small amount, even in 1974, but monumental to him. Although he was not home, his pride of ownership was evident everywhere: lots of beautiful roses in the front yard, a stained-glass window over the door; his daugh-ter spoke of wanting to. move her own growing family back to that neighborhood. I was pleased to see that there was only one burned-out house on Chester Street, when there had been many a few years ago, and I felt pride as always at Jubilee West's twenty-two new-con-struction apartments on Goss Street, definitely the ~best-looking housing anywhere in the neighborhood. My experience of joy on my walk through the West of Cypress neighborhood brought home to me the truth of Joanna Macy's Celebrate small successes, continue the life-long task of dealing with your inner judge that says, "but it isn't enough." jUuly-August 199Y 495 Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years words: "When we open our awareness to the web of life, we con-nect not only with the sufferings of others, but to the same mea-sure, with their gifts and powers . . . if we can grieve with the griefs of others, so, by the same token, by the same openness, can we find strength in their strengths, bolstering our own individual supplies of courage, commitment, and endurance."3 3. Acknowledge real powerlessness and systemic oppression. Deepen awareness of this as a reality check, as the main reason for not continuing self-blame, as a step to determining at which point to try to intervene. Catch yourself when you are blaming the vic-tim, whether that victim is yourself or someone else. 4. Acknowledge surplus powerlessness in yourself and in others, and try to find ways to deal with it, mainly by group sharing and by compassion for yourself and others. 5. Give up the myth that there is one key to changing the world. I have had the fantasy hope that there is one key to changing oppres-sive systems and that, if I could just find it, I would know what to do. Now I am more aware that transformation is happening on many levels at once and that it is not necessarily more important to work on one rather than another; I have lots of options for where I can best use my gifts to work for change. 6. Give up the myth that I am totally responsible (even when and if it is my job to be in charge), that I necessarily have the power to create the changes I want. Sometimes I have that power, often I do not. Any transformation will take many people working in many ways. A friend told me recently that she has become passionately committed to nudging the world toward justice and ecological san-ity. The idea of nudging shows a good grasp of reality and the pos-sible, and many people are doing this all over the world. 7. Give as much time as possible to the beauty, silence, and soli-tude that I so long for and know is essential to the life of my soul. My greatest desire is to act from a deeply contemplative stance. I do not always live that way, but I become more and more con-vinced that it is the only way to be who I am, to be at peace with myself and the world. Many questions remain as I come to the end of these reflec-tions, but hopefully every deepened insight leads to new possi-bilities and changes in my way of being, feeling, and acting. My questions will take more than my lifetime to answer. I am reminded of a vivid memory from a few years ago. I was in the midst of a crisis at Jubilee West, and I went to walk around the 496 Review for Religious lake to try to think of what to do. As I walked, I would come up with an idea about a next step, bu~ a voice in me kept asking, "What if you can't solve the problem?" I would be with that ques-tion for a few minutes and then start again to plan strategies. But the voice was persistent: "What if you can't solve the problem?" I have been brought up to believe that, ifI have a problem or see a problem, I should try to solve it. In fact, I very frequently have been able to find solutions to problems, to achieve what-ever I put my mind to achieve. Similarly, in World as Love~; World as Self, Joanna Macy quotes Lyndon B. Johnson as saying during the Vietnam War: "Don't come to me with a problem unless you have a solution." She tells of some colleagues in France who, ridi-culing our American culture for demanding instant solutions to problems, said we should "let the difficulties reveal themselves first before rushing for a ready-made solution, or else you will not understand them.''4 And so, as I walked around the lake struggling with the com-plexities of my crisis, the persistent voice asking "What if you can't solve the problem?" was actually a blessing. It pushed me to experience that often I cannot solve the problem. What is needed then is not more strategies, but waiting in openness: openness to the unfathomable presence, power, energy, connectedness in the universe, in me, in other people, and in all situations--which I call God. What is needed is sitting with open hands and open heart in deep silence and solitude, or dancing with abandonment to powerful music, or walking on the beach feeling the immensity of the ocean, or remembering my redwood tree. What is needed is anything that brings home to me the sacredness of all beings. I am remembering also the poem by Wendell Berry that I first saw on the kitchen wall at Genesis Farm, the environmental study center where I spent six weeks in the spring of 1992. It moved me deeply then and still does, giving me a powerful image of commitment to the possible in the darkest of times: "In the dark of the moon, / In flying snow,/. / The world in danger. / I walk the rocky hillsides / Sowing clover." I wonder what forms my clover will take? In looking through my 1991-92 .journal, I rediscovered another powerful image, a dream I had on 1 February 1992 and had forgotten. The image of wholeness in my dream links with Joanna Macy's wisdom about the interconnected whole in Despair and Personal Power: "What is it that allows us to feel pain for our Bramble ¯ Twenty Inner-City Years world? And what do we discover as we move through it? What awaits us there on the other side of despair? To all these ques-tions there is one answer. It is interconnectedness with life and all other beings. It is the living web out of which our individual, sep-arate existences have risen, and in which we are interwoven."s Deep implications of this dream are gradually surfacing as I continue to reflect on it more than three years later: I am in a house with many people., much chaos., there is a cupboard with a lot of jigsaw puzzles., suddenly they all fall out and come crashing down . . . so there are hun-dreds of puzzle pieces all over the floor., all from differ-ent puzzles . . . instead of feeling hopeless, like I would never be able to sort out the pieces and put each puzzle together again . . . in the dream I feel hopeful . . . like what was individual puzzles is now one big whole . . . and the challenge is to make a new picture in a new way. Soon after I wrote the pages above, my friend Sister Pat, cofounder of Jubilee West, died unexpectedly while we were vaca-tioning in Vermont. We had worked, argued, dreamed, planned, and enjoyed life together in West Oakland for nineteen years of a longer close friendship. Pat was "home" to me; now I feel like a homeless person. In my grief I have felt that God is burning himself into my soul, in intense pain and intense beauty. Was it in another lifetime that I wrote, "I'm not aware of very much per-sonal pain"? I am amazed that "Feel your pain" was one of my "exploratory answers." It has helped me take time for the sadness of my loss. I am hopeful that my pain will give me strength and wisdom to respond to the world's pain in new ways. My under-standing of my own "answers" is deeper than when I wrote them. Hopefully, I am more ready to keep working to create a new pic-ture, a new wholeness. Notes ~ Michael Lerner, Surplus Powerlessness (Oakland: Institute for Labor and Mental Health, 1986). These and other quotations from Lerner are a combination of a variety of pages in this book. 2 Joanna Macy, Despair and Personal Power in the Nuclear Age (Baltimore: New Society Publishers, 1983). These quotations are a com-bination of a variety of pages in chapters 1 and 2. 3 Macy, Despair, p. 32. 4 Joanna Macy, World as Love~; World as Self(Berkeley: Parallax Press, 1991), p. 18. s Macy, Despair, p. 24. 498 Review for Religious MARGARET MARY KNITTEL Corporate Sponsorship: The 1990s and the Fruits of Our Labor I alternate between thinking of the planet as home--dear and familiar stone hearth and garden--and as a hard land of exile in which we are all sojourners. --Annie Dillard, "Sojourner" Mey mother had lived in this home, built by her father, ver since she was eighteen, and now sixty years later she was selling the stained-glass windows, the hardwood floors, everything. All went well but for that last moment holding all the pain. We walked away bearing the image of strangers in that beloved doorway, frame of four generations. Doorways of insti-tutions, too, owned and operated by generations of women reli-gious, hold countless emotionally freighted moments, and near the close of the 20th century the terms "corporate sponsorship" and "fruits of our labor" have become and remain inextricably bound. In one ethical frame come three questions that are relevant to these two realities, corporate sponsorship and fruits of our labor. The three questions suggest a fluidity of vision, a loo'sening of ties. The questions are: Who are we? Who are we becoming? Who are we called to be? Who Are We? Over successive generations the corporately sponsored institutional ministry increasingly became for Catholic women religious in the United States their "hearth and garden," Margaret Mary Knittel RSM served as director of personnel services at Saint Xavier University in Chicago from 1981 to 1987. Presently, as a consultant for nonprofit organizations, she writes to us from I 1 Simpson, H; Geneva, Illinois 60134. ~uly-Aug~st 1995 499 Knittel ¯ Corporate Sponsorship the consummate fruits of their labor, our labor. Hospitals, nurs-ing homes, orphanages, .high schools, and colleges together form a litany of dedicated achievement, of the brick-by-brick accom-plishments of many dedicated women. Annie Dillard's feelings about this planet as hearth and garden and land of exile help identify three groups or generations of women religious who for a hundred years have owned and operated those institutions.1 These generations we shall call the exiles, the arrived, and the The first generation, the exiles, traveled from countries like Ireland, Germany, and Italy to North American mission lands. The second generation, the arrived (or arriv&s), lived in an at-homeness within their institutions in the burgeoning years. Now, in these closing years of the 20th century, we have a third gen-eration, the sojourners, seeking a new way to live their profes-sional commitments and their personal lives as vowed women religious upon finding themselves living in smaller and smaller groupings on a planet presenting challenges and opportunities their pioneering sisters in exile--their grandsisters--would not recognize. For the exiles--pioneers, all of them--the missions of the late 19th and early 20th century meant lives of physical sacrifice and economic deprivation well beyond the virtue or vow of poverty. Those women pieced together budgets, scraping their ingenuity for survival. Having come intent upon working hard, they strove to build hearths and gardens and kept striving and struggling, remaining and reminding themselves to be exiles at heart, women in a foreign land. Echoing the economy at large, the institutional ministries they had founded and maintained boomed after the lean years of the Great Depression. The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up edu-cational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. With increased settling in, this hearth of the religious women's profes-sional lives, this sponsored work, began for some to take on near-salvific powers. This hospital, this academy, began to hold terrestrial hopes and dreams, promised a salvation, and hinted of a this-side immortality. Plaudits, awards, and status were afforded to this generation of women who had arrived, who in some cases had left a humble family circle for what was increasingly becom- 500 Review for Religious ing an educated, secure middle-class community. They, we, by one definition indeed had arrived. For the arrived, their hospital or academy chapel began to localize the garden of the spirit. Here each morning and evening, all, regardless of professional status, gathered together at prayer. Here the contemplative "side" sought nourishment as the apostolic "side" waited just outside the chapel door. Hearth of work and garden of spirit, these became fix-tures within the corporate institu-tions cared for by the members of this second generation. Who Are We Becoming? In the movie "What's Eating Gilbert Grape?" the central figure, an exceedingly obese mother of four, says to her teenage son in a moment of reconciliation, "I never wanted to be like this." She had eaten her way to virtual immobility after her husband walked away from her and their children. Do we women religious, as this 20th cen-tury of ours draws to a close, gaze at our corporate body and say to ot~rselves, "We never wanted to be like this"? The founders of mis-sions here in the United States began on an inspiration to do good The second generation, the arrived, brought forward personal and corporate energies to build up educational, social-service, and healthcare institutions surpassing the dreams of the earlier immigrant generation, the exiles. in the sight of the God, and now, one or two hundred years later, their legatee corporate body has perhaps come to he something overly substantial: substantial hearth and garden, substantial fruits of our labor. These places, these institutions, became the symbolic body of our corporate identity within the church and the symbolic immortality within our destinies. Boards, philanthropic individ-uals, committees, friendships have been cultivated in the name of a hospital, an orphanage, or a school, and individual women's identities have been formed by and dedicated to bricks and steam pipes and windows. And then, as a distant window opened in the early 1960s and Vatican Council II convened, the corporate body ~ly-August 1995 501 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship began to be looked at and came into question: "Is this who we are becoming?" For some women and men, in and out of religious life, the signs of the times appealed to in the council documents began to replace the signs of success. The prophet Jeremiah's call to voca- Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. tion describes a people God observes burning incense to strange gods and "adoring their own hand-iwork" (Jr 1:16). The prophetic began to ease itself forward. The work of our hands, the fruits of our labor, came into question. Now, in these late days of the 20th century, the hearth lies gray with embers and the garden shows signs of late-summer exhaustion. Women religious know that an additional thirty years, like those since the council, will not be afforded them. A sizable amount of post-Vatican time has quickly become history, and religious can recite lists of classrooms already vacated, hospital beds unused, and doors closed. Worse, we know in our aging the lists of needs more acute, more violent, than our grandsisters might have dared imagine. With abuses crowding our culture into corners that seem to offer no choice, we acknowl-edge there has to be more to this journey. Who Are We Called to Be? Our third generation, the would-be sojourners, wonder at this late-20th-century hour: "Is this our time of exile? Shall we be graced to select to become sojourners. Selecting to be sojourners, to move from being securely settled to securely unsettled, recalls the, sweep of the Hebrew Scriptures showing us a people finding centers other than God. The king-dom, the temple, the land--here was the answer. No, not here, there. No, not there, here. Efforts to restore the earthly kingdom kept centering on realities other than God. But Yahweh contin-ued to insist. 502 Review for Religious Selecting to be sojourners calls us to know how to go into exile, how to travel. Traveling, what shall we pack? Timing, how to schedule transportation, stopovers? And we cannot forget those allowances of minutes and hours, those sponges of time, to absorb this unfamiliar territory, this plan, these new connections. We will not know the language, but will need to interact and relate with others in order to continue on the journey and will have to search our imaginations for ways to communicate constructively. Life will move more slowly even as we continually need to cope with myriad details. Knowing exile, we will know ourselves anew. A clock continues to tick, and while many individual women religious hear it, the instinct to muffle its sound remains. "Enough!" we hear. Our alternative thoughts drift to sojourning, but graying embers say "Enough." We lived through the changes of the 1960s and '70s immediately after the council. No more traveling, turning, leaving, remembering, forgetting, previsioning, refashioning, or paradigm shifting for us! Just leave me alone. Enough. Give me the basics for survival and let me live out my life, here. Give me my job, my position, my power. Give me space. But a clock continues to tick. Learning to Mourn Henri Nouwen has said, "Yes, we must mourn our losses. We cannot talk or act them away, but we can shed tears over them and allow ourselves to grieve deeply. To grieve is to allow our losses to tear apart feelings of security and safety and lead us to the painful truth of our brokenness. Our grief makes us experience the abyss of our own life in which nothing is settled, clear, or obvious, but everything constantly shifting and changing.''2 At issue here is whether or not women religious have the energy to mourn. There have been deaths--countless funerals, remembered rejec-tions, and downright hostilities and hatreds. Yes, death seems to have been an integral part of this life once so much idealized--the youth and the joy! But, through all of these deaths, have we short-circuited a certain human pathos, admixing theologies and spiri-tualities, being at times more stoic than Christian? Several weeks after the death of my mother, an acquaintance asked, "How are you doing?" An incident, fresh that day, helped me to describe a way of being that I would later learn is common to us and may be where the corporate person of religious life .~ly-Auguyt 1995 503 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship finds itself today. I told him of my standing in the middle of a room that morning, about to clean, but not knowing what to do next. My emotional energy was somehow separated from me as a person. As women religious, do we stand in the middle of a room and not know how to clean it, with our individual and corpgrate emo-tional energy elsewhere? Solneone has said, "Leaders are people who do the right thing; managers are people who do things right.''3 Is there a sense that somehow our corporate energy has separated itself from the corporate body so that with our corpo-rate leadership we continue doing things right rather than doing the right thing? Walter Brueggemann has observed that "reli-gious practitioners are often easy and unwitting conspirators with such denial. We become the good-humor men and women, for who among us does not want to rush in and smooth things out, to reassure, to cover grief?.''4 Rush in, smooth out, reassure--sounds familiar. What and where are the deep-down places in which we will individually and corporately rejoin our emotional energies, find ourselves? While sometimes we feel sublimely practiced in the various forms of grief, having experienced death in many forms, have we mourned? Have we cared enough about ourselves individually and corporately to let in the slow, mysterious loneliness, the ever changing healing of life after a death, a shocking, numbing death, has occurred? This work of mourning looks not only to the past but also to the future, fully realizing that new steps must be taken. The ability to bear wholesome and healing grief is every bit as much a fruit of our labor as the most imposing achievement of our corporate endeavors. Who are we called to be in this late 20th century, and is God directly and immediately in charge? Given our status and our connections, have we--women religious who have arrived--cor-porately capitulated to others' being in charge, someone else's agenda. "The task of the prophetic imagination is to cut through the numbness, to penetrate the self-deception, so that the God of endings is confessed as Lord.''s We come through the numbing to learn from a God in charge that the fruit of our labor may be "only" to know Jesus the Christ once again as way, as truth, as life. In this late 20th century, the fruits of our having arrived carry the exotically sweet flavor of success taken for granted and of 504 Review for Religious controlling power. In some instances we think it necessary to cling to these fruits with an even tighter grip. What sadder use of our time than participating in meetings with unseen forces with a view to reconstituting yesteryear rather than working with hope for tomorrow! Is there true conversation within our communi-ties, or merely some talk while waiting for followers to follow? Whether we would speak with Brueggemann's "prophetic imagination" or Philip Keane's "moral imagination," can we imag-ine imagining? Keane has said, "Communities as well as persons need t6 develop moral character and exercise moral imagination as they seek to address the great issues of our times.''6 When a loved one dies, a significant part of our grieving may involve imagining the future without them. We have known and loved them, but deep down we grieve for ourselves in an unknown future--a birthday or a Christmas--without their presence. We deeply miss this lost past. The exile has begun, with or without us. We need to acknowl-edge it, learning more and imagining more about what it means to mourn. We will be sojourners, like our grandsisters before us, leaving the comforts of home, however we currently define and hold on to them. "A number of factors can hinder persons from being genuinely reflective and playful in their moral thinking," says Keane; "power or force is one such factor.''7 Shall we become more reflective, more playful, and imagine leaving our present "homes" of wrongfully constructed political power, of oppressive behaviors? What prevents us from asking: Who are we? Who are we becoming? and Who are we called to be? The answer from some, if not all, may lie in these processes of the prophetic, these questions. Land of Exile: Corporate Sojournership "Fairly often," says Keane, "I run into persons whose image of God is that God is out to get us. Such persons want to be told what to do, and they are afraid of using their moral imaginations. Their religious or prayer lives will often be quite limited because their fear keeps them from really being open to the power of the Gospel stories.''8 As women religious we seek the courage to imag-ine and do corporately what many individual women and men have already wrestled with in their lives. We need, corporately, to turn in the keys, have a good cry, and move on. 3~uly-Al¢g'ust 199Y 505 Knittel * Corporate Sponsorship Turning in the keys does not necessarily mean a wholesale closing of eacli and every institution. Some would like that, but it could indeed prove shortsighted and definitely unimaginative, even though some say the community's need for money is a good reason for selling this hospital or that academy and others say, "If we sell, we would be doing something holy." Abandoning an inner-city hospital without recourse to imaginative possibilities of how this long-cared-for space--the land's square feet and the buildings' cubic feet--could now serve the poor better might well become a new urban tragedy. We will need to go after anew, with all the civic clout that our years of being respectable arrivges can muster, the neighborhood's endemic and systemic problems. The friends of our institutions of the past may not choose to be the companions of our sojourning in the years ahead. But, together with those who would stay with us, we n~ed to find out who we are called to be. In any new land such as the future, there will be questions, then some answers, and then new questions. Our bequest, the fruits of our labor--whether embodied in our present corporate buildings and our present apostolic endeavors or not--must always be directed towards common goods that our corporate resources and corporate energies can hope to accomplish. People reflecting on the conversion to which all of us are called expect that the hearth and garden that halve come down to tis from a former time, these substantial signs of our having arrived, will increasingly suggest to us new common and corpo-rate lives of sojourning exile. These and similar questions will keep occurring to us: How will we use the power and influence we have? What could the prayer of our community be like? How will we imagine and live appropriate ways of coming together and being together--or of being together and going out together? What can we do most effectively for the coming of the kingdom? Shall we be women of vision, corporately attending to the good? Shall we corporately prepare in earnest to live in exile, to be sojourners, persons consciously and deliberately ready for the journey that begins and ends in God? Notes l Annie Dillard, "Sojourner," in Teaching a Stone to Talk (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1988), p. 150. 506 Review for Religious 2 Henri J.M. Nouwen, With Hearts Burning (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1994), p. 27. 3 Warren Bennis, Why Leaders Can't Lead (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass Publishers, 1989), p. 18. 4 Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic hnagination (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1978), p. 49. s Brueggemann, p. 49. 6 Philip S. Keane, Christian Ethics and Imagination (New York: Paulist Press, 1984), p. 104. 7 Keane, p. 107. 8 Keane, p. 107. Tourist Your T-shirt's stamped in letters large across your chest: KATMANDU. Your bike is labeled with a hundred road resorts. Your car is dotted round with all your touring triumphs . So, why not take another route today? A low-cost tour to that other inner world inside. Stay quiet by that vast unbounded inner ocean in your mind. Dive, swim and surf. Fly free. Ride high the inner waves of thought and feeling endlessly exhilarated, or delve into the dark and secret untrod cavern of your soul. Discover now the mystery of creation; confront the abyss unending of your own nothing-self becoming. And meet in that remote mysterious empty temple, far inside, your God. Cothrai Gogan CSSP .y~uly-August 199Y 507 CATHERINE M. HARMER Retirement's Wisdom Years One of the recurring discussions at assemblies and chap-ters of religious revolves around the rising median age, the need to care for our elderly, and more subtly the growing costs of such caring. The issue is an important one in that most United States congregations have median ages over sixty. An examination of congregational budgets shows that increasingly large amounts of money are dedicated to the care of the elderly. The National Conference of Catholic Bishops has been sponsor-ing a special collection for aging religious that people contribute to with great generosity, but it covers only a small part of the actual costs. A visit to the motherhouse of almost any group of sisters will show that a large part of what was housing for novices in the past is now dedicated to the aging members. Some motherhouses have very fine infirmaries for the sick elderly. There is no question that religious leaders are making great efforts to provide the best they can for their members through all stages of life. I would like, however, to examine two aspects of that effort. The first has to do with the nursing-home care that many of the sick elderly need. The second has to do with the concept of retirement for religious and the way it has been handled over the last twenty years or so. The Sick Elderly The first topic is the simpler one and will get less treatment in this article. In the care of our sick elderly, the emphasis has Catherine M. Harmer MMS wrote "Election: A Call to Service" for our September-October 1994 issue. Her address is Medical Mission Sisters; 300 W. Wellens Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19120. 508 Review for Religious been changed from the simple caring for them "at home" that was possible when the median age was much lower and the num-ber of elderly religious was either smaller or relatively smaller. When that was the case, at the motherhouse a small staff assisted by novices and postulants could care for them in much the same way that a family could take care of any sick or elderly member of it. Gradually, as the numbers increased and the sick elderly lived longer, a more professional model, that of the nursing home, became more common. As this was happen-ing, the percentage of vigorously active members was decreasing. At present, in most of the retirement facilities I have visited over the years, the staff is largely lay with very few religious among them. In some very large congrega-tions, with several hundred sick elderly members, the facilities com-pare well with any licensed nursing home, often providing much better care and definitely offering more loving care than in the average nurs-ing home for the laity. In smaller congregations the attempt to pro-vide quality nursing care results in Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercon gregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their members in general nursing homes in their area. small facilities that are as expensive to maintain as considerably larger ones would be. In some cases a nursing staff (composed mainly of nurse aides) that could care for thirty patients is taking care of ten or fifteen, sometimes fewer. As congregations face the heavy financial drain, there is a movement toward collaboration among the congregations in a geographic area. This is a positive development that could lead to good care for the religious and lower financial costs. Some groups that have larger facilities are opening them to other congrega-tions. Some small congregations in a given area are studying the feasibility of establishing an intercongregational nursing home. A few religious leaders are looking at ways to provide for their mem-bers in general nursing homes in their area. All of these steps are difficult. Often the members of a con-gregation are very unwilling to have their elderly cared for away .~dy-August 199Y 509 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years from their own motherhouse. At times the elderly themselves feel that they are being mistreated by being separated from their tra-ditional homes. Only a few consider it a good thing to be in a nursing home of mixed patients, men and women, religious and lay, in spite of the pastoral potential of such a model. The efforts of leaders and the combined efforts of congrega-tions to deal with both the physical realities and the psychologi-cal and religious values are important ones. Key for the leaders will be understanding, patience, and collaborative stances. For the members, those who are elderly and those who are not, it is important to develop an acceptance of the reality they face and a willingness to keep their last days congruent with what has gone before. I suggest that this requires ongoing education for every-one and a spirituality that looks at one's last days as continuous with the dedication of earlier days. Religious Retirement In our efforts to prepare one another for "retirement," we may have bought into a model that was emerging after World War II and continues to develop in terms of what aging and retir-ing are all about. This brings me to the second topic, the one which will constitute the major portion of this article. It is all the more important because it bears upon the first as well. It has to do with how we are viewing retirement. I believe that we have accepted a way of looking at retirement which is increasingly being challenged in the population at large and that we need to study it in the light of what our entire religious life is about. Several aspects of this model of retirement raise new questions. The current model in the United States assumes that people will retire at sixty-five if not earlier. When Social Security became a reality in the 1930s, life expectancy was lower, many people did hard physical labor and had relatively poor nutritional histories, and their hope was simply that at retirement they could stop working without worry about becoming dependent on their chil-dren or "ending up in the poorhouse." Today life expectancy is much higher, and the reality is that many people stay active, healthy, and alert for twenty years and longer after they retire. A second aspect, then, is that retirement is a time of not work-ing and, instead, spending one's time and energy at play of one sort or another. (Married women often have less of the play since 510 Review for Religious they are still expected to do the work of keeping up the home.) A problem here is that many retired people soon become bored with the play aspect. Some move toward part-time jobs or vol-unteer work, while others become captives of the television or the endless bingo games of our less creative senior centers. A third aspect of the current model that deserves examina-tion is the tendency to move away from the place where most of life was spent. This sometimes has to do with seeking a warmer climate or more economical housing. The result is that, as peo-ple age, they are out of regular con-tact with their family and must develop new friends. Even the elderly who manage well on their own in their original home are often under pressure from relatives and friends to find a smaller place-- which often takes them away from the community in which they have close ties and away from some sig-nificant activities that they could otherwise keep up. People are living longer while remaining physically and mentally vigorous, and yet the model of retirement continues to treat them as if they cannot do anything but play. What is being lost is the opportunity for them to contribute to family, to friends, to com-munity, in a different way than during their working years, but a way that is significant and needed. What is being lost to society at large is the accumulated wisdom of the elderly, a loss our soci-ety cannot afford. It would be a shame for religious congregations to follow the national model for retirement too closely. While few if any con-gregations have fixed ages of retirement from major involvement in ministries, there has been a subtle movement over the last few decades to start "thinking about retirement" while the religious are in their fifties. Without necessarily meaning to do so, this has too frequently led to a mentality that places retiring somewhere in the sixties, even if there is no real reason to do so. I have vis-ited motherhouses where some of the sisters appear to have retired Although the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. J-uly-dugust 199Y 511 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years far too soon and are desperate for some way to be involved in ministry. Mthough the idea that play is the major activity of the retired has not taken hold so completely in religious congregations, what has developed is a sense that this is my time to do with as I wish. Especially in motherhouses, which tend to be out in the country or relatively isolated, this leads to a combination of small tasks around the motherhouse, activities that mimic the senior citizens' centers, and some increased emphasis on the spiritual life without much attention to how that might be different at this stage of life. Often when I talk with the retired themselves I find a deep longing for two things: to find some meaningful part-time min-istry and to explore what spiritual life means at this latter stage of life. When retirement takes place at a motherhouse, you find the same isolation from community that the lay elderly experience who move to Florida. While most religious have lived and worked in a number of places, there was always the parish, the school or hospital, sometimes the neighborhood, as a framework for involve-ment and support. This is now gone, and the beautiful grounds of the motherhouse, the special facilities, and sometimes the large numbers (for those, notably, who were used to smaller groups) are no substitute for what has been lost. Religious do not, on the whole, do a lot of complaining, but the sense of loss is often heard in the undertones of a conversation. We hear ". everything is so nice here., everyone is so kind . . . but."--and the long-ing is very real. I am increasingly convinced that elderly religious should, whenever possible, have the same choices as the younger members. This stage of life is important, and it needs to be rec-ognized as such. In the remainder of this article, I want to address two impor-tant things about aging and retirement for religious: (1) the sec-ond half of life as a time of deepening wisdom and individuation, a time for a greater spirituality to emerge, and (2) the role of elderly religious in continuing the mission of Jesus. For many ideas here, it will be evident that I am indebted to Carl Jung, but also to a fascinating book by Jane R. Pr~tat on the croning years (1994). As I read her book, I found myself dwelling on several ideas: that our society wastes the wisdom of the elderly at a time when we need it most; that aging is not just something that hap-pens, but a part of the whole picture of life; and that much of 512 Review for Religious what is wrong in contemporary ways of looking at and dealing with aging in general are found also in regard to aging among religious, especially in how we treat the reality we call "retire-ment." The Second Half of Life Some years ago a large number of articles, workshops, and counseling programs focused on a particular transition seen as noteworthy, the "mid-life crisis." This concept seems, from a Jungian point of view, relevant to the developmental model's tran-sition from the first to the second half of life. This division into two halves does not have a chronological point, just ~s mid-life cannot be tied to a specific number of years of life. The first half of life is devoted to infancy, childhood, and young adulthood inso-far as these parts of life have to do with coming to know the world around ourselves, coming to an understanding of who we are as separate from our parents, learning, developing a working career, and moving to success within that career. At the midpoint, we might wake up in the morning and ask: Is this all there is to life? How we answer that question may indicate if the second half of life is about to begin. If the answer is "Yes, this is it!" we could spend the rest of our life simply as a continuation of the first half until death. If the answer is "No, there is something more!" we could enter into the second half of life. In the second half of life, the tasks shift to integration of the parts that have been separated during the first half, the move-ment toward individuation, coming to know ourselves in a dif-ferent way, and the decision to move toward wisdom. The "wise old man" and "wise old woman" archetypes begin to emerge dur-ing the early part of this second half of life. I believe that many people make the shift to the second half of life without ever hear-ing about Jung or his developmental theories. They recognize that something is changing in themselves, and they move with those changes. Some of the "play" elements of retirement--the programs for senior citizens that involve bingo, excursions, and hobbies--could be considered a return to an early part of the first half of lifel Now that we have done our work, earned our pension, we can again become the children whose task is play. For people with a limited field of interests, this may mean watching television for ffuly-August 1995 513 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years As we age; there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. long hours of the day and night. This is to remain in the first half of life, possibly until death, without ever taking the step into the second half. For other people, the leisure activities are part of their under-standing of where they are in terms of age, but other aspects also begin to emerge. Spending time with their children and grand-children can be a way of being the elder who is communicating the lore and the wisdom of life. This is a second-half activity and one much needed in today's culture, in which single-parent families and families with both parents working are becoming the norm. Contact with the older generation, with grandparents, . uncles, and aunts, which for long years was the norm, now is the excep-tion in many families. Wisdom also has to do with com-ing to a deeper knowledge of God, a greater and deeper integration of the spiritual life. For many people, life has been so busy, so full of duties, that the spiritual life was relegated to a set of rituals honored on a daily, weekly, or yearly basis. As we age, there is often a longing for a deeper understanding, a greater closeness to God. It is a normal part of the second half of life. In some cases it is connected with daily Mass for people who during their working years were quite con-tent with the Sunday Mass; it may mean a return to some of the religious practices of childhood; sometimes it is :a search for deeper intimacy with God. This longing belongs to the wisdom quest of this second stage. Religious, hopefully, have not stinted on their attention to the spiritual and to God's presence all through the active first half of their life. Yet the sense that the latter half of life has some-thing special to offer is found among them as well. One cannot deny, though, that some religious at this stage seem to put i:he haain emphasis on play. Their way of playing may be different, but it is still play and may involve television, novel reading, trips to the casino with the senior citizens' group, and considerable family visiting. 514 Review for Religious As a country we have to explore how to make the wisdom of the elders available to our children and to our busy adults. In the extended family of the past, this happened very simply. At one time in my childhood, I went every Friday after school to my grandparents' home so that on Saturday morning I could help .my grandmother with some of the cleaning she found difficult to do. What I remember most is conversations after supper on Friday with my grandfather, who told me the stories of his youth when he was an organizer of the unions in the steel mills of Pittsburgh. I also remember listening to music on the radio, and all three of us reading our separate books or magazines. Elderly religious off in motherhouses and retirement centers lose their easy contact with yoilnger religious, lose casual opportunities to share their wisdom with them, just as grandparents nowadays are often in other states where spending time with their grandchildren is no longer 'possible. In some motherhouses there are now prayer centers and renewal centers that give workshops and courses for sisters and lay people who are interested. At one point I had a constant flow of their catalogues coming across my desk. Fine as many of these centers are, I rarely saw anything that addressed the need for exploring the spirituality of the latter half of life, of the retirement years. Yet in those same houses I often met older sisters who longed for scripture study, for prayer assistance, for some way of understanding and developing the spirit life for this special part of their earthly sojourn. Some Strategies for the Second Half of Life It seems to me, then, that there are two things leadership would do well to do~ (1)to make it possible for elderly religious (granted their varying degrees of diminished energy) to continue to be involved in meaningful ministries that connect with the congregation's charism and mission and (2) to make conscious efforts to help the elderly religious move through the integrative work of the second half of their life in a way that is just as appro-priate as the novitiate training was for the first half. ., I live in a parish at present where more than half of the sis-ters in the local convent are well into the second half of their life and thus are no longer able to be involved full-time in the min-istries of their congregation. The congregation is a teaching one, jg~uly-August 1995 515 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years staffing many parish and,diocesan schools. A few of the sisters teach in the parish school, others commute to diocesan high schools, and the older sisters are engaged in time,limited but very vital ministries, These include teaching and tutoring in the adult literacy center, tutoring children from the grade school, and vis-iting elderly shut-ins 'in the neighborhood. None of these are full-time involvements. In some cases the sisters go to the school, in others the students come to them in the convent. Whenever I meet with these women, I am struck by the joy and peace that are obvious in them. Not everyone can be placed in a parish convent. Some of our elderly need to be in places like motherhouses where their greater physical needs can be provided for. It is sometimes possible to bring ministries to these motherhouses and at the same time pro-vide a wonderful service to others. I have been to motherhouses where there was day care for children in some parts of the build-ing and day care for ~he elderly in other parts. Two wonderful things happened there daily. The children and the elderly spent some time together every day, and both benefited by the experi-ence. The staff of both facilities had "assistants" from among the retired sisters who, like the women in my parish, could not work full-time, but could be counted on for blocks of time on .a regu-lar basis to help with both groups of day-care clients. o To keep our religious involved as long as possible has another imp.ortant benefit. Most o£ the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. We have wonderful examples of very elderly people maintaining their mental and physical capacities long past the expected time and making contributions to art, 'literature,. and the commonweal. Even more important, this is a time when .religious can begin to share the wisdom that has come to them with age, experience, and deep reflection on the meaning of life. This is a wisdom that is very much needed in our culture, a wisdom that too often the children and young peo-ple do.not find around them. Religious can become, in~ a very real way, the grandparent figures ifi their parishes, neighborhoods, and institutions. This is the wisdom of experience joined with reflec-tion upon that experience. 0 The second thing needing attention from leadership is the effort to help religious .use their latter years creatively in order to move toward the union with God that has been such a part of our 516 Review for Religious thinking throughout life. Many of the forms of prayer and spiri-tuality that are helpful to members of active religious congrega-tions during their early and middle years are apostolically oriented. Appropriately, the religious appreciate seeing a close connection between their ministry and their spirituality. The inner life and the outer life are integrated, ideally, in a rich and vibrant way. Changes take place as religious move through the early years of the second half of life. Spending less time and energy in direct apostolic efforts, they have more time for more leisurely ways of praying. They are ready for the next stage of devel-opment of their inner life. Their focus at this stage is somewhat different from that of their early and middle years. It has within it many of the same elements, but also some new ones. In this stage the elderly may desire to recall or renew some of the things they learned in earlier years, but did not have time to savor and assim-ilate. Frequently they speak of their desire for scripture classes, for prayer workshops. These can be useful, but they need to be focused clearly and carefully on the latter years. Now the emphasis is not on quantities of information, but rather on depth, on quiet composure and integration within each individual's inner reality. The wisdom years are the time when the. "wise old woman" and "wise old man" archetypes come to the fore. While the wis-dom can be for oneself, it is even more for others. At this stage there is not likely to be any necessity to go out and preach or teach, but there should be a simple and peaceful realization that the wisdom being garnered is also for others. This is why it is important during these years: for religious to have two areas of concern: one for the continuing development of the wisdom that has been growing in them over the years, and the other for shar-ing that wisdom, very simply and directly, with others. As religious move along through this final stage of life, it is essential that they have the assistance they need to foster the growth of their inner life, to be more open to wisdom, and that they have opportunity to share it with others. Thus, the ending of Most of the research on the aging process shows that, if people stay physically and mentally active, they stay healthy longer and age more slowly. ~uly-August 199Y 517 Harmer ¯ Retirement's Wisdom Years life can be as full and as rich spiritually as any of the earlier stages, and it can be lived out in a truly mission-centered way. This will enrich the lives of the elderly religious themselves, but also of those who are yearning for that wisdom and do not yet know where to find it. It will bring a fullness to the lives of the "retired" and of those around them. It will be a far happier period than one given to play, television, and various excursions. Religious have frequently been the pacesetters in ministry. Perhaps it is time for the "retired" religious to begin to model to other retirees a richer, fuller, and more outwardly directed wisdom retirement. References Johnston, Charles M. Necessary Wisdom: Meeting the Challenge of a New Cultural Maturity. Seattle: ICD Press, 1991. Pr~tat, Jane R. Coming to Age: The Croning Years and Late-Life Transformations. Toronto: Inner City Books, 1994. Exposition Bless you, caress you~ enfold and possess you. Blessed by you, caressed by you, enfolded within you. Possessed. Chris Mannion FMS 518 Review for Religious TAD DUNNE The Enneagram Since the. early 1970s, religious educators, spiritual men-tors, retreat directors, and, most recently, management trainers have been talking about the "enneagram." 1 The theory proposes that each person is hooked by one of nine psychological compulsions--similar to the seven "capital" sins in classical Christian literature? Dozens of authors. and lecturers nowadays are teaching the theory to help people discover which of the nine compulsions is theirs and bow to accomplish their psychological liberation from it. The nine types are often referred to in caricatures: the Perfectionist, the Helper, ~he Status Seeker, the Sensitive Artist, the Observer, the Accuser, the Planner, the Bully, and the Slug.3 To edch of these descriptions, enneagram teachers attach longer descriptions of phobias, ambitions, expectations, learning style, sexual dynamics, management style, virtues, prides, blind spots, fixations, senses of time, and so on. The r~lations among the com-pulsions are represented by a circle whose circumference is numbered, at nine equidistant points. Within the circle is a triangle drawn from points three to six to nine. Also within the circle is a folded hexagon drawn through the Tad Dunne is an adjunct professor of medical ethics at Marygrove College, Detroit, and a management consultant for Blue Cross and Blue Shield of Michigan. He has published Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco) and Lonergan and Spirituality (Loyola University Press). He may be addressed at 2923 Woodslee; Royal Oak, Michigan 48073. guidance July-August 199Y 519 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram cycle 1-4-2-8-5-7-1. This strange figure has become the logo of the enneagram system. Enneagram and Myers-Briggs People often compare the enneagram to the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which classifies sixteen personality types accord-ing to one's preference for ways of noticing experience and mak-ing decisions. The chief difference between them is that the Myers-Briggs instrument indicates personal preferences, all of which are psychologically normal, while the enneagram indicates pathologies. That is, in the Myers-Briggs'all the types are healthy, while in the enneagram all the types are sick. So the Myers-Briggs is useful for accommodating one's own thinking style with col-laborators'; it helps groups identify the preferences for ways of learning and evaluating that exist,among their members and to deploy their relative .strengths accordingly. The enneagram, in contrast, is useful for identifying neuroses, mostly in oneself. The Myers-Briggs indicator, rooted in Jungian psychology, carries a positive attitude toward human consciousness, whereas the ennea-gram, rooted partly in Freudian psychology, takes a more suspi-cious stand. Few psyqhologists, however, rely on either tool for diagnostic purposes, because of an absence of empirical studies that correlate with validated' tests. Among other helping professionals, the Myers-Briggs indi-cator enjoys a wider and less controversial reputation than the enneagram. The sixteen preferences are easily understood; one can readily find Jung's comments on people's preferences between extraversion and introversion, between sensate observation and intuition, and between thinking and feeling.4 The enneagram, in contrast, has sources shrouded in arcane knowledge from a cor-ner of the Sufi tradition unknown to most Sufis and from George Ivanovich Gurdjieff, a self-styled visionary from Russia with dubi-ous credentials. The many enneagram books and tapes that have been published in the last decade tend to describe each of the nine compialsions in dogmatic terms--a style of presentation that allures some but alienates others,s 520 Some Positive Aspects of the Enneagram One of the most disturbing claims made by enneagram devo- Review for Religious tees is that these nine types cover the total human range of com-pulsions. Not ten, not eight.6 There are subsets among the nine, but these supposedly cover all possibilities. Devotees base this claim on an unfamiliar model of personality and on the ennea-gram logo, whose origins are untraceable.7 But what is really dis-turbing is that, despite the dogmatic claims of the theory and an absence of experiment-based research, it is difficult to find any-one who fails to fit one of the types. Enneagram fans in the help-ing professions, after years of working with the tool, feel that these nine are just about right. And individuals claim that the enneagram has helped them to reach a deeper understanding of their personal compulsions than any other self-help system has, In other words, this weird, unempirical, upsetting, gnostic, and mys-tifying map of the psyche seems to work. In 1990 Claudio Naranjo MD published Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker. Enneagram students were eager to read what he had to say, since he led the development o_f the the-ory among English-speaking publics. His book, the smallest I know of on the subject, builds the theory on much more solid ground. That book is now out of print, but has been incorpo-rated in Naranjo's new and expanded volume, Character and Neurosis, published in 1994. Naranjo lends legitimacy to the theory in several ways. Unlike most other enneag.ram authors, who tend to pile adjective upon adjective and style upon style to cover the many variations possi-ble within each compulsion, Naranjo,keeps the set of descriptors limited. He wants these descriptors to function the way they func-tion in clinical manuals such as the DSM tli, namely, as a list of discreet phenomena sufficient to distinguish one type from another? By describing diseases with as little overlap as possible, he enables therapists to spot the core problem more quickly and waste less time on manifestations of the problem shared with other compulsions. Naranjo also takes pains to make a distinction between pas-sions (anger, envy, gluttony, and so forth) and the cognitive errors that underlie each passion. These errors amount to uncrit-ical assumptions about what life is like--the kind of oversimpli-fied worldview (and subsequent inappropriate adaptive routines) that Ellis deals with in his rational-emotive therapy.9 By pin-pointing cognitive errors, Naranjo believes, a person can iden-tify and dissolve his or her pet myths in order to rob the j~uly-August 199~ 521 Dunne * The Enneagram corresponding passion of its rationale and thereby weaken its grip on the psyche. Another contribution Naranjo makes to the theory is that he consistently explains the psychological dynamics at work in each compulsion, rather than just stating them. By appealing to his readers' understanding rather than their memory, he invites them to consult the workings of their own psyches to verify the pres-ence of certain subconscious routines. This is no small achievement. The mind is easily content with a notional familiarity with terms. Only under the whip of intel-lectual desire will we push forward to uncover for ourselves some of our psychic gremlins that have never seen the light of con-sciousness. Likewise the heart is easily comforted with comfort-able feelings; it takes an inner discipline, responsible to no one but oneself, to face up to the discomforts of acting responsibly. In my limited experience of teaching the theory, I found that many students find it too difficult to allow the teaching to break through their automatic defenses and deal with their hidden fears and cravings. The enneagram doctrine just feeds a ravenous compul-sion. So the Status Seeker uses the enneagram to advance her own reputation. The Observer uses it to gather yet further infor-mation before he ventiares out into the world. And so on. Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learn-ing. The work, however, is for people on a personal mission-- those who possess enough self-knowledge to know they are learners in the school of self-knowledge. Much of Naranjo's prose envisions a therapeutic setting in which a seeker looks to a men-tor for guidance. The aim of the therapy is not to settle what our basic compulsion is, as if from that point on we know what box we are in. The therapeutic outcome is not to identify a conceptual scheme that sometimes describes our behavior. The desired out-come is to understand specific experiences of being not our best selves, using conceptual schemes as initial indicators of what may be causing the trouble. This is why it is important to hold the enneagram types at arm's length. Although some people seem to fit a single type per-fectly, others seem to fit several types. Are these latter persons-- whose self-deceit eludes everyone's analysis--all the while being victims of only a single compulsion? Or have they really developed several distinct alternatives to authentic living? Practically speak- 522 Review for Religious ing, it makes no difference so long as users rely on the ennea-gram as nothing more than clusters of fixations and behaviors that logically hang together. Their conceptual consistency is merely a model to help people raise relevant questions about the inner events that possess a slippery logic of their own. Besides his economy of description and his reliance on per-sonal understanding, a further significant contribution Naranjo makes to the theory lies in how he has analyzed the connection between psychological difficulties and exis-tential decisions about being human. Going beyond Oscar Ichazo, from whom he first learned the theory, as well as beyond the people who had already published his enneagram material, Naranjo bases each psychological dynamic in a fundamental spiritual crisis he calls "ontic obscuration," which is a kind of a deafness to our inner drives to be authentic persons. He proposes that, just as certain cognitive errors under' lie each passion, so certain existential fail-ures underlie each cognitive error. This is significant because it puts the focus directly on the inner work of being fully human. Other authors settle for cate-gorizing people by behavior patterns or look to childhood trau-mas to explain present weirdness--the kinds of analyses commonly found in popular psychology. Indeed, popular psychology usually lacks the words and ideas with which to reflect on that innermost work of authenticity. But, by paying direct attention to "ontic obscuration," individuals can discover that a major driver behind their compulsive responses lies in how seriously they take those quiet impulses to be fully human or else how consistently they have avoided the inner work involved in staying human. This "ontic obscuration" underlies each compulsion in its own manner. The Slug stands at the center, having thoroughly obscured inner voices about how to be one's truest self. The Bully and the Perfectionist hear the voices dimly, but respond through a focus on externals, especially through various forms of anger they feel because things are not what they should be. The Helper, the Status Seeker, and the Sensitive Artist hear the voices, but they divert their desire to become fully human persons into Enneagram work is particularly difficult for teachers. They are tempted to devour the lore with teaching in mind, not learning. ~uly-Augtwt 199Y 523 Dunne ¯ The Enneag'ram becoming just persons whose image carries clout in the lives of o.thers. The Planner, the Accuser, and the Observer also hear the voiceS, but they divert a fear of not becoming fully human into strategies designed to protect the little bits of personhood they believe they possess.l° ¯ Naranjo refers to this approach as his "Nasruddin" theory. The story goes that this mullah was crawling around in an alley near a marketplace, searching for the key to his house. A friend joined in the search and, after finding nothing, asked the mul-lah, "Are you sure you lost the key around here?" The mullah responded, "No, I lost it at home." The friend naturally asked, "Then why are you looking for the key here?" The mullah replied, "The light is much better here." 1, The point is that we often look for the key to our house out under the sun, where everything seems clear. But the key is in the house, an~l the house is dark. The Existential Questign: How Should I Be? For all the benefits ofNaranjo's "ontic obscuration," he does not explain in precise terms what being human involves; he set-tles for a description of some effects of"obscuration." For exam-ple, "loss of a sense of I-am-ness" and "something missing inside.''12 At times he presumes that deep down people really know the experience of "ontic obscuration." At other times he claims that the obscuration itself prevents people from realizing that any kind of obscuration has occurred. So, while it is appro-priate for him to recommend that the seeker find a mentor to help recognize a compulsion, the theory would benefit also from a positive understanding of just what it is that "ontic obscura-tion" obscures. To uncover this prize, we need to reflect on how being human happens to be obscured ifi the first place. Most psychologists agree that the intellect of children develops not only in the amount of information they learn but, more significantly, in whether or not they learn certain higher-level intellectual skills for understanding their experiences. So Naranjo's "ontic obscura-tion'? indicates, not a breakdown in mental development, but rather an unfinished development. It is not a matter of having obscured what once was clear; it is a matter of having been born blind and gradually learning how to see. 524 Review for Religious The developmental problem is how to move from a world of images, behaviors, symbols, and external sensations to the larger world of meaning and values. As children we were able to pose questions about being human only by using images. Should I be pushy? Compliant? Generous? Teacherly? Observant? Like a lion? A turtle? A bird? A monkey? Early successful functioning of one of these styles sets up a habit and provides evidence that the world around us must be of such and such a nature--the one that matches our chosen strategy. To the Bully, then, the world is dog-eat- dog; to the Accuser, the world is ridden with crooks. We build up a behavioral style and support it with a cognitive belief in a par-ticular strategy like one of those described in .the enneagram: being correct, being related, being impressive, being the victim, being retentive, being wary, being pleasing, being pugnacious, or being deaf. We become capable of noticing our compulsions as such only later, when we learn that proper use of our minds and hearts is more important than proper behavior and that intelligent analy-sis and reasonable judgment put us in touch with the real world far better than myths and symbols can. Only p~ople who have learned to think about inner acts of meaning can make a statement such as "There I go again" as they catch on to unreal thinking and feeling. ~ .~ This learning represents a major jump in thinking skills. A person discovers that the world is not just "already out there.''Is The real world is also the invisible world made up of the acts of meaning that occur in people's minds and hearts: the agreements, the plans, the guiding ideas, the reigning values, the loyalties, the spites, the memories, the laws, and the internalized language of the place. Former precepts such as Be corre'ct~ Be connected, Be suc-cessful, and Be the martyr were established in the mind of a~child who had no alternative but to think with pictures and symbols. Bht, in the world of meaning and values, learning how to be human ought to transcend these image-based precepts and adopt precepts based on the functions of the mind and heart. Bernard Lonergan, the late Canadian philosopher whose Insight and Method in Theology have influenced many practitioners in the human and natural sciences, has identified five such func-tion- based precepts. They are: Be attentive, Be intelligent, Be reasonable, Be responsible, Be in love.'4 These voices are in all of us. They are active long before we notice them as distinct July-August 199Y 525 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram impuls.es. Although they still escape the notice of many psychol-ogists as being the most fundamental impulses that make us fully human, they are the living source of our ability to notice, under-stand, realize, take responsibility, and love, For Lonergan, these five precepts support a highly-structured method for the human sciences. But, for people seeking to under-stand their inner compulsions, they can also provide a normal way of referring to the task of being fully human. They can rep-resent the very operations that "ontic obscuration" obscures. These are the events that promise to bring a person to what Naranjo, in a more descriptive and less precise mode, calls "the integrated wholeness of one's experience"; "true aliveness, a sense of existing, a plenitude"; "finding value in the present and the actual.''ts These function-based ~precepts not only transcend image-based precepts; they also enable people to transcend who they are and to rise toward being who they are to be. Lonergan refers to these precepts as "the transcendental precepts." A Therapy of Love The question of how we should be does not end there. While people might rely on a diagnostic tool such as the enneagram to recognize self-defeating thoughts before they become actions, they also need a therapy to help recognize self-transcending thoughts and feelings. This means learning firsthand the differ-ence between the transcendental precepts and their opposites: between being attentive and being oblivious, being intelligent and being stupid, being reasonable and being silly, being respon-sible and being irresponsible, and being loving and being hateful. While anyone can recognize abstractly the contrast between these words, the right-hand members of the pairs conspire quite suc-cessfully to obscure their own functioning right behind our eyes. Fortunately, this conspiracy can be caught in the act. By know-ingly paying attention to the transcendental precepts, we can be more attentive to inner experience. We can be more intelligent about how certain cognitive errors and existential decisions sup-port our compulsions. We can be more reasonable as we admit the truth of how thoroughly our fixation may have dominated our psyches. We can be more responsible in accepting guilt that belongs to us, in shunning guilt that is unreasonable, and in sup-pressing what compulsions we can as they arise. Most wisely, we 526 Review for Religious can let our love for others take the lead more often, including and especially our love for God. When a person falls in love, he or she suddenly sees the exter-nal world as more beautiful, more full of potential, more worthy of respect and care. What has occurred, though, is not a change in the external world one views; it is a self-transcending change in the viewer. Being in love heals much of ~' what was crippled in the other four levels of the person's self-transcendence. That is, being in love gives courage to respon-sibility, realism to reason, insight to intel-ligence, and acumen to attention. The person has risen above the imprisoned self and realized something of the profound marvels of life, nature, and the friendly character of the universe. Love's healing power is evident in the love between friends, within a family, and among fellow citizens and members of a group. It is also evident in the love of God. People who have undergone a religious conversion, whether in a sudden inner revolution or a gradual takeover, experience three new powers. The~y see goodness where the unconverted see only evil. They feel a power to reach out to others at a higher risk to themselves than self-protecting reason would allow. And, after the worst setbacks, they find themselves soon on their feet, mys-teriously alive and submissive to the impulse to love again26 More can be said about the healing effects of religious love, but this milch illustrates how an analysis of our self-transcending acts clar-ifibs'what "being human" means and reveals the available powers that "o'ntic obscuration" obscures. Further analysis along these lines would complement any instance of healing with a thera-peutic theory consistent with religious love. Notice especially how the addition of this account of self-transcendence avoids the typi~cal trap of self-help psychologies. It makes clear that people do not help themselves all by them-selves. When i't is the self that needs help, "self-help" is a con-tradiction in terms. Genuine help must be imported. We rely on each other and we rely on God. In order to let go of our worries that our failures will be someh6w held against us, we rely on the fact that we are loved. Being in love gives courage to responsibility, realism to reason, insight to intelligence, and acumen to attention. Ju~-August199y 527 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram The work of making all this real for oneself is long and hard. It might go something like this: Suppose I typically play the Sensitive Artist, envious of the personas of others and absorbing my injuries in quiet melancholy. I should first keep a diary to log the times I notice my compulsion at work, in order to grow in the habit of noticing, t~nderstanding~ and gradually realizing how precisely my frustrated desire to be a notable person works. (Naranjo suggests that this work on autobiography may take three or four months.) ~7 At the same time, as I grow in self-realization, I should grow in self-responsibility. When I hear the inner voice saying "Be sensitive, be like so-and-so," I should say "Shut up!" and then bend an ear to the quieter voices of authenticity whis-pering, "Just be attentive, intelligent, reasonable, responsible, and in love. Being that is a quite good enough way to be your best." Then, alongside the inner work of self-reflection, I should let myself connect with others. Although Naranjo believes that his book can help a person avoid high-minded and patronizing therapists, I find it hard to imagine people really benefiting from it unless they talk about this inner work with others. Being con-nected to others means obeying the transcendental precept to Be in love. That means letting my love for others be the light that revdals what is truly worth doing, rather than mere consistency or some private ethical principle. Because genuine love heals irre-sponsibility, silliness, stupidity, and inattention, the test of genuine love will be just that: Does it make me more responsible, more ready to face truth, more functionally intelligent, more on the lookout for what really counts? If it does not, it is not love. The inner work also means letting myself be loved. For most of us, with our distorted self-images, this means facing the fact that despite our faults, despite the injuries we have caused others, the person who claims to love us is telling the truth. It means dropping the flimsy defense that "you don't really know me" and admitting that the point is not whether we are fully known, but whether we are appreciated and valued for ourselves. It means realizing that we will never be perfect, that we do not need to expend that much energy defending ourselves, that we do not even need to "fix" ourselves through diligent self-therapy. Unless we rely on God and other people for forgiveness, tolerance, and patience, no pathology or self-help therapy will work. This is only an example of finding our way home. Different people will find different paths. But at least knowing what being 528 Review.for Religious human is about shows us what our home looks like. Gradually-- never fully being, but always becoming, human--we will have returned. We can come in and go out as we please. We will have found our home's key: the house is no longer dark. Notes ~ Enneagram, coined from Greek, means "ninefold marking." 2 Capital means that the sins are principal or "head" (capita) sins from which people's other sins flow. Althofigh the enneagram seems to have arisen independently of the Christian tradition, seven of its compulsions match the seven capital sins. The remaining two are bogus morality (Accuser) and bogus success (Status Seeker). 3 No two authors agree on these generic names, but there is general agreement about the descriptions of each type~ Devotees often refer just to the number, as in "She's a raving Two!" (a Helper). 4 See C.G. Jung, Paychological Types (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and Co., 1926), chap. 10. Isabel Briggs Myers and her mother, Katharine C. Briggs, developed the fourth pair of preferences, judging and perceiv-ing, based on further observations made byJung. Note that they realize that its usefulness applies mainly to the young. See Isabel Briggs Myers, Introduction to Type (Gainesville, Florida: Center for Publications' of Psychological Types, 1962), p. 8. s The works on which I have based my remarks are: Maria Beesing et al., The Enneagram: A Journey of Self Discovery (Denville: Dimension Books, 1984); Kathleen Hurley and Theodore Dobson, What's My Type? Use the Enneagram and My Best Self (HarperSanFrancisco, 1991 and 1993); Claudio Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures: Self-Analysis for the Seeker and Character and Neurosis: An Integrative View (Nevada City: Gateways, 1990 and 1994); Helen Pahner, The Enneagram (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1988); Don Richard Riso, Personality Types: Using the Enneagram for Self-Discovery (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1987). I have also relied on various notes taken by students participating in workshops given by Naranjo and others who derive the substance of their doctrine from him. 6 An exception'is Hurley and Dobson, My Best Self, identifying two distinct compulsions in both the Status Seeker and the Accuser, making a total of eleven compulsions. In .any case, there are no enneagram the-orists I know of who have dealt with the fundamental problem of how to set a limit to types. If there is such a limit, then the types will have to be defined by a set of psychological conditions that are limited and verifiable. For example, Karen Horney's division of three reactions to conflict (against people, toward people, away from people) might be matched against three I-world comparisons (bigger than, equal to, smaller than) to generate exactly nine types. Or against the trio Denial, Overconfidence, Underconfidence. The trio Ignorance, Craving, and Fear seems to under-lie Naranjo's thinking. There are many possibilities. This kind of work will 3~ly-August 1995 529 Dunne ¯ The Enneagram be necessary if the professional psychological community is ever to give credence to the theory and, more to the point, if the theory is ever to be shown to explain the actual range of human compulsions. 7 Gurdjieff, the teacher of this model of personality, claims to have discovered the enneagram in the Sufi tradition, but there is little evi-dence in Sufism of any of the heavy interpretative overlay that it now carries. Gurdjieff's confidence in the diagram seems based on numerol-ogy rather than experiment, and he expected that the diagram could rep-resent any human or natural process. 8 Diagnostic and Stat#tical Manual of Mental Disorders III (Washington, D.C.: American Psychiatric Association, 1987). 0 9 See Albert Ellis, Reason and Emotion in Psychotherapy (New York: Lyle Stuart, 1963), chap. 3, "Irrational Ideas Which Cause and Sustain Emotional Disturbances," pp, 60-88. l0 The reader should note inconsistencies in the enneagram designs. In Naranjo's Character and Neurosis, pp. 199 and 245, and throughout his Ennea-Type Structures, the triangle arrows run clockwise. Everywhere else in Character and Neurosis, they run counterclockwise. tt Naranjo, Ennea-Type Structures, pp. xix-xx, and Character and Neurosis, p 36. Hereafter page references will be to Ennea-Type Structures, with corresponding references to Character and Neurosis in italics. ~2 See pp. 30/61 and 63/219. He also describes ontic obscuration as: "obscuration . . . of the natural, original, and truest support for one's sense of personal value" (45/196); "the universal pain of fallen con-sciousness, beyond type-bound characteristics" (45/196); "lack of ground-ingin being" (107/197); and "loss of wholeness and sense of being" (138/150). o 13 Walter Burghardt SJ notes that John Courtney Murray relies on this distinction to clarify how weak the old Catholic reliance on dogma-tism really was. See "The Richness of a Resource," in A Spirituality for Contemporary Life, ed. David L. Fleming SJ (St. Louis: Review for Religious, 1991). Murray may well have relied on Lonergan's Insight (New York: Philosophical Library, 1958) for this notion (for which, see real in its index). 14 See Method in Theology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), pp. 53, 55, and passim. I have developed these notions more at length in Lonergan and Spirituality (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985) and Spiritual Mentoring (HarperSanFrancisco, 199 I). Is Naranjo, pp. 47/197, 92/94, and 125/173. 16 These powers are traditionally called faith, charity, and hope. I have avoided the traditional terms in an effort to avoid conceptualism and to make clear how religious love heals the injured psyche. 17 Naranjo, p. 158/275. 530 Review for Religious MARY WINIFRED Imaging Spiritual Direction Ipn spite of a plethora of spiritual direction programs pur-orting to train those who would be spirithal directors, it remains a fact that gifts of direction are just that--gifts, not learned skills. Spiritual direction involves listening and hearing, discernment, clarity of vision, and assistance in the development of a relationship between an 'individual and God. While learned skills may assist a spiritual director, it is only deep sensitivity devel-oped through years of personal prayer that enables true spiritual direction. It is often easier to say what spiritual direction is not, than to describe what it is. For example, spiritual direction is not psychotherapy; it is not life skills taught by a social worker; it is not catechistic training for specific church membership. " In a pamphlet entitled Spiritual Direction, Henri Nouwen says: "It is of great value to submit our prayer life from time to time to the supervision of a spiritual guide. A spiritual director in this strict sense is not a counselor, a therapist, or an analyst, but a mature fellow Christian to whom we choose to be accountable for our spiritual life and from whom we can expect prayerful guid-ance in our constant struggle to discern God's active presence in our lives, A spiritual director can be called 'soul friend' (Kenneth I2eech) or a" 'spiritual friend' (Tilden Edwards). It is important that he or she practice the disciplines of the Church and the Book and thus become familiar with.the space in which we try to listen to God's voice. The way we relate to our spiritual director depends very much on our needs, our personalities, and external circum-stances. Some people may want to see their spiritual director Mary Winifred CtlS is the Sister-in-Charge of St. Cuthbert's Retreat House; Federal Hill Road; Brewster, New York 10509. ¯ July-August 199Y S31 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction biweekly or monthly, others will find it sufficient to be in touch only when the occasion asks for it. Some people may feel the need for a more extensive sharing with their spiritual director, while others will find seeing him or her once in a while for a few short moments to be sufficient. It is essential that one Christian helps another Christian to enter without fear into the presence of God and there to discern God's call" (8-9). Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. While training in prayer and meditation may certainly make one a more articulate spiritual director, neverthe-less spiritual direction remains a vocation unfettered by rules and regulations, by industry standards, or by a financial fee scale. Most spiritual directees practice St. Paul's suggestion in the Letter to the Galatians, "Those who are taught the word must share in all good things with their teacher" (6:6), by making some gift to their directors: homemade bread, flowers from the garden, a book or tape, or some other item; money does not usually enter into a spiritual direction agreement, nor should it. Unlike therapy or counseling, which are professional relationships between a ther-apist or counselor and a client, spiritual direction is a relation-ship of charity and generosity between fellow Christians. Spiritual gifts cannot be purchased; they are not for sale. Three images of the spiritual life may help to indicate ways in which the presence of a director (or mentor or soul friend) may effectively aid us in our growth Godwards. The first image, offered by Thomas H. Green, is :that of a marketplace. The marketplace--or, as Green also labels it, the ldtchen!--is the part of our lives that encompasses a multitude of small, necessary, sometimes tedious tasks which can seem to draw us away from the richness and quiet of our interior lives. "Frequently," Green says, "the demands and frustrations of the apostolate, or of raising a family and earning a living, seem to be merely obstacles to a genuine and deep prayer life. But if I am right in explaining the way the Lord works through these exter-nal activities and events, then we should see them quite differ-ently. Far from being obstacles to our interior growth, they become for us the very sandpaper of our sanctification, at least as important to our growth as what happens in the solitude of for-mal prayer" (121). 532 Review for Religious These are not particularly comfortable thoughts, especially for those of~us who would like to discover a large block of unin-terrupted quiet. Often it is only with the help of a wise spiritual director that we can begin to uncover and acknowledge the wealth of spiritual graces hidden in our routine daily tasks and to see opportunities in what have earlier appeared to be only obstacles. Another, who listens with detached concern, will not only listen to the occasional frustration, tiredness, or boredom in our every-day tasks, but will also hear the voice of God calling to us from what may, on the surface, seem to be 'merely dull routine. As surely as God works in this world, God is also available to us in our work, however .tedious and distracting our marketplace--or kitchen--may feel at times. Another ancient and popular image for the spiritual life is that of a journey or pilgrimage. John Gorsuch describes such a spiri-tual journey as a moving out from a place of assumed comfort, beckoned on by God into the unknown. The image of a journey is particularly apt if considered in its various stages: there is a beginning, with its preparations and planning; the travel itself; and the goal of the journey. In the early stages of beginning a journey, there may be excitement and feverish planning--a guide is helpful here in focusing our attention and helping us to leave behind our unnecessary baggage. I once watched my sister prepar-ing for a backpacking trip: with the advice of an experienced back-packer friend, she was encouraged to take only the essential objects, leaving her backpack light enough to carry and yet stocked with exactly what she would need. But traveling, no matter how well it is planned and prepared, is nevertheless an adventure into the unknown. Often we must stop to ask for directions or other help. In traveling this may be as simple as "Yes, you're on the right road" or "Two more blocks Because the singular aim of spiritual direction is to assist in growth toward God, there are no set guidelines, no conventional measuring sticks, no right or wrong answers, and no concretely attainable goals. July-August 199Y 533 Winifred ¯ Imaging Spiritual Direction and then turn left"; on a spiritual journey, as simple as "Keep lis-tening in your prayer" or "Look in the mirror every morning: you will see a person God loves profoundly." If we are fortunate enough to have a good and reliable guide or director, we are soon back on track. At times, too, the journey's route may seem long and wearisome--turning aside or even giving up altogether may look like the most positive option. Then a wise mentor's word of encouragement may challenge and enliven us to continue with new energy and zeal. And then there is the goal to our journey. Sometimes we are so caught up in the travel itself that we lose sight of the goal. A friend and I once planned to spend a restful week together; iron-ically, we also planned too many sight-seeing activities, with the result that the true goals of the week--to ,rest and enjoy each other's company--were lost. So, on a spiritual journey, it is easy to be distracted by circumstances and surroundings from our true goal of knowing God. We need a wise and discerning director to help us in maintaining a clarity of vision about our goal. A third image is that of epiphany. Adrian van Kaam, from whom I have borrowed this image, describes an epiphany as the "shining forth of eternity in daily people, in often unnoticed events and things" (8). It is an epiphany that comes through in the openness and vulnerability of spiritual direction. Van Kaam goes on to say: "The risen Lord is our life now. Our life must become a hymn of praise to Jesus rising in us . Jesus tells us that the kingdom of God is at hand in each of us. It is already here and now, for we are called to share his resurrection in humanity and history" (65). And surely this is the heart of spiritual direction, that one Christian shares freely with another a word of help, a message of encouragement, a glimpse of eternity. Bibliography Gorsuch, John R An Invitation to the Spiritual Journey. Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1990. Green, Thomas H. Darkness in the Marketplace. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1981. Nouwen, Henri. Spiritual Direction. Cincinnati: Forward Movement Publications, 1981. Van Kaam, Adrian. The Music of Eternity. Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1990, 534 Review for Religious MARY C. SULLIVAN The Brazier That Is My God: Teresa on True Prayer's Dispositions, Gifts, and Signs It is 2 June 1577. Teresa of Avila is, in effect, under house arrest in the convent of the Discalced Carmelites in Toledo, Spain--a community she founded in 1569.1 She has been on the road for almost ten years, establishing reformed monasteries of Carmelite women and even of Carmelite men committed to the poverty, silence, soli-tude, penance, prayer, and detachment she believes are envisioned in the primitive Rule. But now for the last year she has been ordered to remain in one of her convents (she chooses Toledo) because of political tensions between the Calced and Discalced Carmelites. She is regarded by the Calced as a ringleader who must be kept out of cir-culation. To add to her isolation, on 18 June 1577 the papal nuncio Nicol~is Ormaneto, who has been friendly to the reform, will die, and his successor, Felipe Sega, will come to Spain in August already prejudiced against Teresa and her work. He will later call her "a. restless gadabout woman, disobedient and stubborn, who under the cloak of devotion invented wicked opinions, going about breaking enclosure, contrary to the decree of the Council of Trent and the orders of her superiors, teaching as if she were a doctor, in contempt of the teaching of St. Paul, who com-manded women not to teach."2 Mary C. Sullivan RSM works in the College of Liberal Arts of Rochester Institute of Technology. She may be addressed at Sisters of Mercy; 18 Upton Park; Rochester, New York 14607. heritage j~uly-August 1995 535 Sullivan ¯ The Brazier That Is My God Prologue But now, in early June 1577, during her enforced reclusion, Teresa is in Toledo, writing a book on prayer at the request of her confessor, Jer6nimo Gracifin, a Discalced priest. By the end of July, after one month of work on Las Moradas (The Interior Castle, or The Dwelling Places3), she will be recalled to Avila, where against her own desire she has again been elected prioress of Incarnation, the Carmelite convent she entered as a young woman and from which in 1562 she will found San Jos4, the first convent of the Reform, across town in Avila. But the Carmelite authorities do not want Teresa to be the prioress of Incarnation. They will call for a second vote, and when fifty-four sisters at Incarnation persist in electing Teresa, these sisters will be ex-communicated and denied the sacraments. On 3 December of this same year, John of the Cross, the confessor and spiritual director at Incarnation, will be abducted from Avila at night by Calced friars and taken to the windowless closet cell in the Toledo monastery of the Calced Carmelites where he will remain impris-oned for six months. Simultaneous with all this, the modern form of the Spanish Inquisition is in full swing in Seville, having been operating as a powerful ecclesiastical tribunal for almost a hundred years. The manuscript of Teresa's Life has been in the Inquisition's possession for two years, after being denounced to it by the dis-appointed and vindictive Princess of Eboli.4 In the midst of all this difficulty, most of which deeply dis-tressed her, in the six-month period from 2 June to 29 November 1577 (which will actually amount to only two months of writing time), Teresa will start and complete her masterwork, The Dwelling Places, the treatise on prayer and virtue which more than any other of her writings led Pope Paul VI in 1970 to declare her a doctor of the universal church. Not once in this volume does Teresa refer explicitly to the external affairs which weigh so heavily on her mind and heart, though her letters of this period amply demon-strate her concern, and dismay. Rather, in this magnificent book about a human person's gradually increasing communion with the God dwelling within her, Teresa speaks about the prayer of per-sonal conversion, the prayer of reordering and reordered charity within the human heart. And so The Dwelling Places is a book which may contribute immeasurably to the present-day conversion of the church, of religious life, and of the hearts of individual Christian women and men. 536 Review for Reli

Issue 51.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1992. ; fo,r relig i ous Christian Heritages and ContemP0ra~ Living SEPTEMBER-O~OBER 1992 ~ t VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 ,÷ Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: .Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington, D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez sJ Sefin Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living SEPTEMBER-OCTOBER 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 5 contents spiritual growth 646 Spirituality, Spiritual Development, and Holiness William G. Thompson SJ explores by means of three personal examples the relationship between being holy and being devel-oped spiritually. 659 Listening as the Foundation for Spirituality Robert P. Malohey CM proposes that listening becomes a basic Christian stance for a healthy and practical spirituality. 675 Two Key Transitions in Spiritual Growth John Wickham SJ mixes traditional language and new approaches to explain the major movements from the discerning and affirmation of the self to ultimate union with the Lord. religious life 691 Seeking a Sense of Direction in a Time of Transition David F. O'Connor ST reviews the history of how traumatic changes in religious life have preceded new forms of dedication and vitality. 707 Religious Life in the Puebla Document Juan Ram6n Moreno SJ emphasizes the directions of religious life in Latin America given official support in the Puebla docu-ment. 716 721 A Collaborative Retirement Convent Kathleen Steinkamp RSM details the process by which two reli-gious communities established a residential care facility for their retired members. living spiritually Reinventing the Sabbath Dennis Hamm SJ presents a refreshing review of the meaning of 642 R~view for Religious 733 736 sabbath rest and its importance for the survival of our faith. Priesthood, Listening, and the Music Bishop Paul A. Zipfel instructs Dominican ordinands to reverence the gift of orders they will be receiving. A Diligent Compassion Theresa Mancuso relives both the pain of grief on the occasion of her mother's death and the long process of being reconciled with that loss. 743 754 praying Becoming Contemplative Here or There Marie Beha OSC traces out four strands of monastic contemplative discipline to give outsiders a close look at some fibers that go into a contemplative life. An Imaginative Look at Mary Jeffrey B. Symynkywicz focuses his imagined prayer or his prayer-ful imagination on how he sees Mary fitting into today's world. life directions 762 A Journey of Transformation Together Lorelle E. Elcock OP describes the steps of the process of trans-forming three Dominican congregations of women into a new unity. 770 Celibacy as Possibility Marie McCarthy SP explores a celibacy that is concerned about possibilities for life, for generativity, and for transformation. 644 782 789 departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: Communicating an Indult of Departure Book Reviews September-October 1992 643 prisms ~hat does a laywoman in Brooklyn have in common with a professor in Central America gunned down for his beliefs, with an auxiliary bishop in St. Louis known for his pastoral-liturgical style, and with a member of a religious community facing the prospect of no new members? In addition to being people who have struggled to live authentic Christian lives, each of these men and women has articles in this issue of Review for Religious. They join their voices with a treasurer of a reli-gious community, with a cloistered contemplative sister, and with spiritual directors, theologians, and administra-tors from Canada, Rome, and the United States to exam-ine a whole spectrum of issues of interest to the contemporary church. These women and men--and, over the years, many others like them--have written about their religious expe-riences in these pages. As they share their personal insights and practical observations about living their faith, our readers around the world benefit from their reflections. Review for Religious has been a valuable resource because of the rich diversity of topics it treats and because of the wide range of perspectives it presents. Have you ever wondered how such articles come to be published? One of the best-kept secrets about this pub-lication is that the editors seldom solicit articles for a par-titular: issue. Over the years a steady flow of unsolicited manuscripts has provided a substantial backlog of articles. The editors simply select, edit, and group the articles. We are constantly amazed at what comes across our desks. Each year the editors consider 250 to 300 articles. From these we select between 90 and 100 for publication. 644 Review for Religious After the editors have chosen the articles they wish to publish, their time is consumed by the process of careful copy editing, proofreading, and preparing the articles for press. The continued vitality of this journal depends on the contri-butions from our readers. Articles that appear in Review are writ-ten, for the most part, by nonprofessional writers--people just like you. That's right. People just like the one who is reading these words at this moment. But this should not come as a surprise. Some two thousand years ago a tax collector and a tent maker did not look on themselves as writers, but today we still draw inspi-ration from the words they penned. Moses and Jeremiah found words worth recording even though one stuttered and the other felt inexperienced. Many of us feel equally inhibited. Few people consider themselves writers. None of the members of the Review staff, if truth be known, prepared themselves for careers in writing or publishing. Yet each of us discovers that, at some point in our lives, we have something to say. We may, how-ever, have difficulties convincing ourselves of that fact. But consider the words found in the Book of Deuteronomy: "The word is very near to you, it is in your mouth and in your heart." The words we discover within our hearts often merit a wider audience. Have you come to a fresh understanding of prayer during a recent retreat or as you talk with other people who pray? Review for Religious would like to invite you to share your experiences and insights. Has the community or parish you live in developed a program or a new method of interacting that others could profit from hearing about? Review could make that possible. If some-thing strikes you as original or valuable, chances are someone else will benefit from hearing that idea. May we invite you to consider becoming a writer? Should you feel that you have the materials for an article that meets the mission statement printed on the back cover of this issue, con-sider putting it on paper. Review will be delighted to send you a set of writers' guidelines. These guidelines clearly describe how to prepare and submit an article for publication in this journal. Review and its many readers want to hear your ideas. And we will be grateful to you for the courage and hard work you will invest in expressing them. Michael Harter SJ September-October 1992 645 WILLIAM G. THOMPSON spiritual growth Spirituality, Spiritual Development, and Holiness For several years I have been articulating for myself and my classes a working model of the inner world represented by the terms spirituality, spiritual development, and holi-ness. In this article I offer some insights I have had as I wondered about how these terms are related. How is spir-ituality related to the human sciences, especially devel-opmental psychology? Is spiritual development the same as what psychologists call human development? How is holiness related to psychological wholeness? I will begin with three examples, move to a more technical exploration of the terms, and return to reflect on the examples in the light of that exploration. Rachel, an adolescent with cerebral palsy, is so severely delayed in her human development that she cannot attend the regular religious-education classes or the liturgies in her parish. Every two weeks she gathers with five other similarly retarded adolescents and six adult sponsors for sessions in special religious education, symbolic catech-esis for the mentally retarded. Joan, who has been her sponsor and friend in this gathering for five years, is con-vinced that despite her developmental retardation Rachel is a very holy young woman. William G. Thompson sJ specializes in the New Testament for adult spirituality and pastoral ministry. He has a doctorate in Scripture from the Pontifical Biblical Institute and serves as asso-ciate professor in Loyola University's Institute of Pastoral Studies, Chicago. His most recent book is Matthew's Story: Good News for Uncertain Times (Paulist, 1989). His address is Ignatius House; 1331 W. Albion Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60626. 646 Review for Religious Katie Klein was born in Germany but came to the United States at the end of World War I. When I was a child, she came to our home two days a week to do laundry and clean our house, as she did for two other families. I came to know and love Katie. She lived a simple, structured, apparently rigid and unimaginative, but also very meaningful life. She went to Mass every morning before work, and she spent at least an hour after work reciting traditional prayers at home. I believe that Katie was a very holy woman even though she seemed never to outgrow the simple piety that had given meaning to her younger years. Before her death in 1950, no personal crisis or public event occurred to chal-lenge her way of living a life that appeared to be pleasing to God. During Vatican Council II, I was pursuing doctoral studies at the Biblical Institute in Rome. Day by day I interiorized the drama of the council as I received reports about its progress from a fellow Jesuit who attended the sessions. I soon sensed that the vision of the church in the modern world that was being shaped in the council's debates was tearing down the world of meaning I had put together for myself over the fifteen years of my Jesuit formation and education. I somehow knew that a long and subtle search for a new world of meaning was beginning. Had the Vatican Council not called us Roman Catholics to let our paradigms shift and leap to a different horizon of meaning, I might still be wear-ing the traditional Jesuit cassock and living the style of priest-hood for which I was so well trained. Spirituality Before Vatican II, spirituality as it refers to lived experience was an almost exclusively Roman Catholic term. But it has taken on a much broader meaning with the council's invitation to a new awareness of, dialogue with, and appreciation of other Christian denominations and of non-Christian religions. In recent years we have been speaking of spirituality as found in various Protestant traditions and in the various traditions of Judaism, as well as in Hinduism, Islam, and Buddhism. Vatican II also called us to a new dialogue with the human sciences, especially with the fields of psychology, sociology, and anthropology, in which spirituality refers to the human spirit apart from religion. Some even speak about the spirituality of antireligious movements such as secular feminism and atheistic Marxism. September-October 1992 647 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness Spirituality has become a broad, inclusive term that is no longer confined to or defined by religion. It seems now to name a human reality which is difficult to define but whose patterns can be verified in quite different religions and movements. It is no longer limited to the so-called "interior life" of those (mostly priests and religious) who "strive for perfection" through a life of prayer and virtue beyond that of the "ordinary" believer. Spirituality now focuses on the human spirit of believers and non-believers, on their lives as a whole, that is, on the physical and emotional, the intellectual and social, the political and cultural, the secular and religious dimensions of their lives.1 In recent years academic courses and publications in spiritu-ality have multiplied in response to the broad and deep interest among professionals in ministry and among academics in semi-naries and universities. How then are we to define spirituality? Sandra Schneiders provides the best definition that I have found: "Spirituality is the experience of consciously striving to integrate one's life in terms not of isolation and self-absorption but of self-transcendence toward the ultimate value one perceives.''2 According to this definition, (1) spirituality names our progressive, consciously pursued movement toward personal integration; (2) such integration happens when we transcend ourselves rather than center on ourselves and our own self-actualization; and (3) such self-transcendence takes place within the horizon of how we imag-ine, think, and feel about what is ultimate in human life and moves us toward it. For Christians our ultimate concern is God revealed in Jesus Christ and experienced through the gift of the Holy Spirit and within the life of the church. But a spirituality may or may not include God or Jesus Christ, may or may not be explicitly reli-gious. Clear boundaries between the secular and the sacred, between believers and nonbelievers, are notoriously difficult to determine. But twelve-step spirituality has taught us that for reli-gious persons reliance on their "Higher Power" may mean reliance on God, while for nonreligious persons it may mean reliance on their support groups. However, our definition of spirituality does not extend to those persons who organize, orient, and orches-trate their lives in dysfunctional or narcissistic ways according to addictive patterns such as alcoholism or self-centered eroticism. Self-transcendence moves us out of compulsive, addictive, obses-sive patterns of behavior toward more healthy relationships with 648 Review for Religious other persons, with ourselves, and with a transcendent Other, however we imagine and name that Other. At the heart of spirituality, then, lies self-transcendence? The philosophical meaning of spirituality is that capacity for self-tran-scendence through knowledge and love which characterizes humans as persons. We human beings actual-ize this philosophical spirituality within the net-works and patterns of our relationships with others. We seek meaning and are found by meaning as we interact with each other indi-vidually and in communities; and we seek truth and are found by truth in these interactions. A religious spirituality affirms that the proper and highest realization of our human capacity for self-transcendence is to be found in our personal relationship with God. Spirituality in this religious sense has as its ultimate concern our individual and communal believing in, hoping for, and loving God. Religious traditions that imagine and understand God as a person who relates reciprocally with individuals and communi-ties on earth have a religious spirituality. The religions of Islam and Hinduism, of Judaism and Christianity, all see our human spirit as responding to, dependent upon, related to, and account-able to a transcendent Other named God. These religions include images, symbols, metaphors, stories, laws, and rituals through which people encounter God and are encountered by God. In Christian spirituality God's Spirit within but other than our human spirit, within but other than the community of believ-ers, actualizes our capacity for self-transcendence by relating us in and through Jesus Christ to others, to our world, and to God. Our spirituality is at work when we implicitly or explicitly imag-ine- think and feel about, make choices and decisions about-- our everyday lives within the ultimate horizon of our relationship to a personal God in and through Jesus Christ and as empow-ered by God's Spirit. We Christians seek to interpret our indi-vidual and collective human experience as centered in Jesus Christ, guided by the Holy Spirit, and oriented to God. Our spirituality is incarnational and trinitarian. God initiates the personal relationship in and through Christ by the power of the Spirit; our spirituality, individual and collec-tive, reflects how we respond to God's initiative as we face the At the heart of spirituality lies self-transcendence. Septentber- October 1992 649 T~_~pson . Spirituality and Holiness, challenges of everyday life within our specific historical and cul-rural environment. Our spirituality is the sum of our responses to what we perceive as the inner call of God. It has to do with our vocation, that is, with the activities by which we find God and are found by God, by which we find a purpose for life that is part of the purposes that God has for our lives in the world. It has to do with the activities by which we are being created by God and create with God, by which we are governed by God and govern our world with God, by which we are being redeemed by God and participate in God's work of redemption in our concrete his-torical situation. At its core, Christian spirituality concerns how we live in part-nership with the action of God in our lives, whatever its pattern. It focuses on how God actively guides our evolving universe, including God's personal interactions with individuals and com-munities. It acknowledges that our human lives are created by God and destined to return to God. It is concerned with how we are aware of and respond to God and how we transcend ourselves to relate more deeply with others and with our world. As we shall see, this call to self-transcendence may also, but need not, include development, that is, movement in the direction of more devel-oped patterns for finding truth and meaning in our lives.4 Returning to our examples: Rachel, although developmentally retarded, transcends herself by responding to Joan's invitation to friendship, the human experience that most closely resembles faith. She is instinctively present to the other adolescents in the praying group, and she senses that the adult sponsors truly want to be totally present to her. Responding more often with smiles and gestures than with words, Rachel lives close to her feelings and does not hide them from others. She has no problem loving the others and wanting to be loved, even though her movement toward personal integration is slow and retarded. Katie Klein transcended herself by serving our family and other families as laundress and cleaning lady and by being devoted to God at daily Eucharist and in her nightly prayers at home. Her faithful devotion to God and her dedicated service of others dis-closed her ultimate concern; she lived cheerfully and peacefully within the horizon of that concern. Her movement toward per-son] l integration seemed not to include changing how she found meaning in her life. I was called to transcend myself by engaging the events of 650 Review for Religious Vatican II, letting them interact with and begin to tear down the world of meaning constructed over the long years of my Jesuit formation and education. From 1963 to 1968, I was invited to let all that the council meant slowly change how I understood myself as a Jesuit priest, as well as let its vision shape in me images of what my life and work would be as a biblical scholar in the post- Vatican II Roman Catholic Church. I experienced this process as an invitation not simply to move but to leap to a new and broader world of meaning and as a challenge to come to a different under-standing of myself in that world. Spiritual Development Human development is the lifelong process of growing, of changing in many different ways. We humans sometimes change to survive or at least to find meaning in our lives. Sometimes we choose new ways to realize our dreams and attain our goals. At other times we learn better skills and gain more expertise while remaining in the same relationships to others and to our work that give meaning to our lives. We are invited to grow and develop, however, when events so shatter the ways in which we have found meaning and been found by meaning that we inust move toward shaping new patterns that will be more adequate to our changed inner and outer environment. Our journey through life may sometimes take us to new vis-tas of knowing, to deeper realms of trusting, to ever widen.ing circles of belonging, to more creative and effective acting. As we develop, we are enabled to embrace a wider world, to acknowledge a more adequate truth, to live in a more inclusive community, and to enter more deeply into the mystery of human existence. A relatively young discipline, the psychology of human devel-opment was born in response to our modern culture, in which, expecting to live longer lives, we become fascinated by what the extended journey entails. We also sense that, as we near the end of the twentieth century, the global village we call our world is dramatically changing. We need and want to know how we indi-viduals and our families and communities are to navigate such hazardous times. Erik Erikson and Jean Piaget are considered the fathers of developmental psychology. For Erikson, the father of psychoso-cial theories, development is h series of tasks based both on bio- Septe,nber- October 1992 651 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness logical development and on how we interact consciously and unconsciously with other persons, with secular and religious insti-tutions, and with all that makes up our culture. Erikson names a sequence of eight tasks: trust vs. mistrust, autonomy vs. shame and doubt, initiative vs. guilt, industry vs. inferiority, identity vs. role confusion, intimacy vs. isolation, generativity vs. stagnation, integrity vs. despair. We never complete any of these lifelong tasks, but, as we move through our lives, one task more than the others may call for special energy and attention. For example, the elderly continue to work at the tasks of trust vs. mistrust and generativity vs. stagnation even as they are called to the final task, integrity vs. despair,s Jean Piaget, the father of structural-developmental theories, focused on the structures of human thought and reasoning. He recognized that infants, children, and adolescents come to know reality differently. He developed an understanding, of cognitive development in which a stage is an integrated pattern of opera-tional structures that at a given time constitute the person's thought processes. Piaget called his stages preoperational, concretely oper-ational, early formal operational, and formal operational. Development from one stage to another involves the transforma-tion of these cognitive structures in the direction of greater inter-nal differentiation, complexity, flexibility, and stability.6 Erikson's tasks, with their focus on what meaning we find in our lives, are related to the seasons of our lives, to our youth and adolescence and to our early, middle, and late adulthood. Piaget's structural stages, with their concern for bow we find and are found by meaning, are not so related to chronological age or social envi-ronment. As children we may have begun to develop formal oper-ational structures in which our experience of others is concrete, literal, and immediate. We may have created strong stereotypes of others, shown little empathy for those with whom we are not familiar, and developed a strong but simple sense of right and wrong based on regulations, law and order, and reward and pun-ishment. Since this structure is not age related, we may live all the seasons of our lives and address all the psychosocial tasks without moving toward the next structural stage of human development. We may continue to use existing structures as long as they work, that is, until our inner and outer worlds become so much more complex that we can no longer find and be found by meaning within those structures and patterns. 652 Review for Religious When we experience life as more complex than we have known it, we may be invited to move toward the next stage of human development, toward the next task (Erikson) or toward the next structure for finding meaning (Piaget). Crises, marker events, unfulfilled hopes, changes in significant relationships can create an inner climate of confusion, doubt, and conflict that invites us into transition. Rome during Vatican II was such an inner and outer environment. If we choose to respond to the invi-tation, we begin to separate from the images that have given mean-ing to our lives and then to float in between the old and the new so that we may gradually reintegrate our lives around more ade-quate images of how we are to know, feel, value, love, and act. As we change, we may feel weak, vulnerable, and out of control because we have begun to experience our lives as more chaotic than orderly. Nevertheless, we are drawn to risk moving or being moved toward more developed patterns so that we may live and act more effectively in our increasingly complex world. Transitions in human development are those more or less extended periods in which we gradually develop more internal complexity, more sub-tle differentiation, greater flexibility, and stronger inner stability. This is the place to ask how human development with its stages and transitions relates to spiritual development. We have seen that spirituality has as its concern how over time we integrate our lives in the direction not of isolation and self-absorption but of greater self-transcendence toward the ultimate value as we per-ceive it. According to Daniel Helminiak, spiritual development is the same as human development but with four characteristics that make it spiritual: (1) an intrinsic principle of authentic self-transcendence, (2) the openness of the person to such self-tran-scendence, (3) the integrity or wholeness of the person in question, and (4) an adult capacity for self-criticism and responsibility for oneself.7 Spiritual development, like spirituality, is a general human phenomenon that may or may not be religious. It is more prop-erly studied in the human sciences than in theology, particularly in developmental psychologies with a philosophical perspective. Spiritual development can be called religious when in our search for meaning we acknowledge a personal God to whom we are related and with whom we can realize our deepest capacity for self-transcendence. Christian spiritual development understands that relationship as the gift of God's Spirit actualizing our capac- Septentber-October 1992 653 Thompson ¯ Spirituality and Holiness ity for self-transcendence and relating us to God in Jesus Christ within the Christian community of believers. We Christians believe that God is present and active in the events that change our inner climate, that Jesus Christ invites us into transition and enables us to respond to the invitation, and that God's Spirit com-panions us as we separate from outworn images and learn to float in between, waiting patiently for new, more life-giving images to emerge. Spiritual development can also be described as our moving into deeper and more comprehensive love. Love is Jesus' only command and the standard of perfection in the Christian tradi-tion. 8 Developmental psychology considers this same movement from self-centeredness to self-transcendence its criterion for human development. Although Christians understand spiritual growth as involving more than psychological development, both the Christian tradition and developmental psychology have the same vision of human maturity, that is, movement toward greater autonomy for the sake of more authentically mutual and intimate relationships. Insights from developmental psychology can enrich our understanding of and help us grow into more mature rela-tionships with others, with ourselves, with the cosmos, and with God. Holiness With this understanding of spirituality and spiritual devel-opment, we now ask what it means to be holy and whether holi-ness is the same as wholeness. I agree with Daniel Helminiak that holiness has to do with the quality of one's relationship to God, while spiritual development has to do with the pattern of that relationship? A person can be holy at any stage of spiritual devel-opment; a neurotic person can be holy; a developmentally dis-abled or retarded person can be holy. Holiness has nothing to do with psychological wholeness, but everything to do with the qual-ity of our relationships to God and others, to ourselves and our world, whatever the pattern of those relationships. Holiness has to do with generosity, surrender, intensity, openness, and depth according to our capacity to possess and exercise these qualities. Holiness concerns our authenticity before God, others, ourselves, and our world, how we walk in these relationships, how we do God's will, how we remain close to God and others, how we live 654 Review for Religious in harmony with God, others, and ourselves, how we cooperate with the call and grace of God in our lives. Holiness concerns how well we respond to God's call to self-transcendence and enter into meaningful relationships with oth-ers and with all that makes up our environment. God's call may or may not include an invitation to move toward the next stage of human development, that is, toward more complex patterns for finding and being found by meaning. What counts is how open we are to God, how well we listen for God, and how well we respond to God in and through the relationships that make up our everyday lives. God calls us to holiness within our concrete histori-cal and cultural situation, whether we are developmentally retarded, as is Rachel; or we live with simple patterns for finding meaning, as did Katie; or we are invited to " move to the next stage of spiritual devel-opment, as I was invited. Our vocation--that is, the activities by which we find God and are found by God, by which we find a purpose for our life that is part of the purposes that God has for our life in the world--may include an invitation to develop new, more complex patterns for making meaning, but it may not. Holiness cannot be identified with psychological wholeness or correlated with spiritual development. A less developed person may be holy, while a more developed person may not. As we pass through the stages of spiritual development, we may become more psychologically mature, but whether or not we also grow in holi-ness depends on the quality of our response to the call of God in our lives. Holiness has to do with the quality of one's relationship to God, while spiritual development has to do with the pattern of that relationship. Conclusion Now we return to our cases. Rachel cannot manage in the usual parish groups of adolescents because she moves at a much slower pace than normal in her spiritual development. She has moved through the stages of grasping reality by exploring every-thing in sight (sensory-motor thinking), of imagining the outside Septentber-October 1992 655 Thompson ¯ Spirituali~ and Holiness " world to fit her inside world (symbolic thinking), and of identi-fying with what she learns (intuitive thinking). But her retardation makes her as yet incapable of thinking beyond what actually is to what is possible (formal operational thinking). Her adult friend Joan and the other adult sponsors are convinced that Rachel is holy and growing in holiness even though developmentally retarded. Rachel receives her vocation from God through Joan and the other adolescents and adults at their biweekly sessions in symbolic catechesis. She responds to those around her and to God with the capacity she has to symbolize and imagine, to know and be known, to love and be loved. Joan senses that almost imperceptibly Rachel is growing more open, more generous, and more authentic in responding to this call of God. Her holiness depends on the quality of her response to others and to God, not on the stage of her spiritual development,l° Katie Klein lived a regular, structured, apparently unimagi-native, but meaningful life. Her experience of others and of God was concrete, literal, and immediate. And she had a 'strong but simple sense of right and wrong. She moved through the tasks of adult life (Erikson) with early formal operational structures of thought (Piaget). Although capable of further development, Katie found those patterns adequate for finding and being found by meaning in her inner and outer world. Generously serving others and being faithful to daily Mass and devotional prayers, Katie became a very holy woman even though her life situation, God in her life, never invited her to move beyond an uncomplicated pat-tern of spiritual development. Within that pattern Katie responded more and more generously to God and walked more and more faithfully with God to become as holy a person as anyone I have known. In how well she loved and served our family, in how deeply she trusted God as she approached death, we knew that Katie's was a rich, solid, strong partnership with God. During my doctoral studies, the events of Vatican II invited me to develop spiritually by letting conventional patterns for find-ing meaning in my Jesuit life be shattered so that more adequate, more individuated, more autonomous structures might be shaped. As I interacted with the environment of the council, God called me to an experience of brokenness so that I might become more whole psychologically, more mature spiritually. Reality became chaotic compared with what I had known in my years of Jesuit formation. Challenged to change, feeling vulnerable, I risked 656 Review for Religious moving toward more complex patterns for making meaning in my life. God called me into this transition so that I might more effectively live and work in the world envisioned by the council. As I struggled through this developmental transition, whether or not I was also becoming holy depended not on the transition but on how well I was listening to and how generously I was responding to the call of God in that experience. Rachel was developmentally retarded, but l~oly; Katie was never called into transition, and she was holy. God invited me to move from the conventional world of meaning I had constructed in my Jesuit formation toward a more individual stage of spiritual develop-ment. Does that mean I was also becoming more holy? Not nec-essarily! We cannot measure holiness, neither our own nor other people's; only God knows the quality of that response to God. We can remember, however, and we must, that holiness concerns how well we live in partnership with God, not how far we have advanced through the stages of spiritual development. Notes ~ Sandra M. Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 681-683; Joann Wolski Conn, Spirituality and Personal Maturity (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1989), pp. 13-29. 2 Schneiders, "Spirituality," p. 684. 3 Sandra M. Schneiders, "Theology and Spirituality: Strangers, Rivals, or Partners," Horizons 13 (1986): 266; Wolski Conn, Spirituality, pp. 29- 30. 4 For further discussion see Katherine Marie Dyckman and L. Patrick Carroll, Inviting the Mystic, Supporting the Prophet (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1981), p. 79; Benedict J. Groeschel, Spiritual Passages (New York: Crossroad, 1988), p. 4; James W. Fowler, Becoming Adult, Becoming Christian (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1984), pp. 71-76; James W. Fowler, Weaving the New Creation (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1991), p. 31. s For another approach to psychosocial development, see Daniel J. Levinson, The Seasons of a Man's Life (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1978); Anita Spencer, Seasons (New York: Paulist, 1982). 6 For a description of contemporary structuralists (Lawrence Kohlberg, Carol Gilligan, James Fowler, Robert Kegan), see James W. Fowler, Stages of Faith: The Psychology of Human Development and the Quest for Meaning (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1981), pp. 37-116; Fowler, Becoming Adult, pp. 37-47. 7 Daniel A. Helminiak, Spiritual Development (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1987), pp. 29-42. September-October 1992 657 8 Joann Wolski Corm and Walter E. Corm, "Christian Spiritual Growth and Developmental Psychology," The Way Supplement 69 (1990): 3-13. 9 Helminiak, Spiritual Development, pp. 143-158. ~0 For an excellent treatment of the mentally retarded, see Mary Therese Harrington, A Place for All: Mental Retardation, Catechesis, and Liturgy (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). The Chess Game It seems you never give up needling away at my defenses. You come to me ready to play a game of chess where you are the seasoned player, and L the fumbling novice. Sometimes you move all at once your strategically placed artillery, leaving me helpless soon after the confrontation has begun. On other occasions you will move, with well-&ought-out expertise, your black knight too near the weakest part of my citadel. You know from past maneuvers I tend to abandon the safety of my ramparts in my hasty efforts to capture him. In the process I give you the liberty to rush into my undefended heart, capturing, as a victory prize, any false god who resides there. When you play, you are never content with a pawn or queen of mine. You want them all! Richard Heatley FSC 658 Review for Religious ROBERT E MALONEY Listening as the Foundation for Spirituality Each morning he wakes me to hear, to listen like a disciple. The Lord Yahweh has opened my ear. Isaiah YO:4-Y manuals on the spiritual life, and even in the classics? One searches in vain for a chapter on listening in the writings of St. Benedict or St. Ignatius or even in the writings of very practical, concretely oriented saints like Francis de Sales and Vincent de Paul. One comes up empty too in Luis de Granada and Rodriguez and in later widely used treatises on spirituality like Tanquerey. Listening, of course, enters these writings implicitly under many headings. But if one considers listening the foundation for spirituality, one might have expected it to stand out in greater relief. This article proposes some reflections on listening as the foundation of spirituality. It will examine, in a preliminary way: (1) listening in the New Testament; (2) listening as the foundation for all spirituality; (3) some echoes of the theme in the history of spirituality; (4) the contrast between an implicit and an explicit theme; (5) some ramifications today. Christian listening begins, of course, with the Old Testament, R6bert P. Maloney CM writes from Rome, where he serves as a mem-ber of the general administration of the Vincentian Fathers and Brothers. His address is Congregazione della Missione; Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma, Italy. September-October 1992 659 Maloney ¯ Listening where listening plays a vital role, especially in the Deuteronomic and prophetic traditions. Yahweh often complains that, when he speaks, his people "do not listen." Conversely, the prophets are preeminent listeners; they hear what Yahweh has to say and then speak in his name. "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening," says the boy Samuel as he begins his prophetic career. Listening recurs again and again in the New Testament, where a study of Johannine literature, for instance, would reveal listening as the key to eter-nal life. "Whoever is of God listens to every word God speaks. The reason you do not hear is that you are not of God . If someone is true to my word he shall never see death" On 8:47, 51). Listening in Luke's Gospel In Luke's Gospel the listening theme is quite explicit. For Luke, as for the entire New Testament, God takes the initiative through his word, which breaks into the world as good news call-ing for human attention and response. Mary the model listener. As with almost all the important themes in Lukan theology, the listening theme is introduced in the infancy narratives. These narratives provide a summary of the theology that Luke will weave through his Gospel. The listening theme is among the most prominent Lukan motifs (parenthetically, one might add that in Luke's Gospel another theme is at work in many of the listening stories; contrary to the expected cultural patterns of the writer's time, a woman is the model listener presented to the reader). Mary is evangelized in Luke's first two chapters. She is the first to hear the good news. She is the ideal disciple, the model for all believers. Mary listens reflectively to Gabriel, who announces the good news of God's presence and tells her of the extraordinary child whom she is to bear; to Elizabeth, who proclaims her blessed among women because she has believed that the word of the Lord would be fulfilled in he~; to shepherds, who tell her and others the message which has been revealed to them about the child, the good news that a Savior is born; to Simeon, who proclaims a song of praise for the salvation that has come to all nations and a prophecy that ominously forebodes the cross; to Anna, who praises God in Mary's presence and keeps speaking to all who are ready to hear; to Jesus himself, who tells her about his relationship with his heavenly Father, which must take precedence over everything. 660 Review for Religious Luke pictures Mary as listening to the Angel Gabriel with wonderment, questioning what it might mean, deciding to act on it, and afterwards meditating on the mystery of God's ways, reflecting on them in her heart. The theme of listening later in Luke's Gospel. Luke uses three brief stories to illustrate this theme of listening discipleship, namely, that those who listen to the word of God and act on it are the true followers of Jesus. (1) His mother and brothers came to be with him, but they could not reach him because of the crowd. He was told, "Your mother and your brothers are standing outside and they wish to see you." He told them in reply, "My mother and my brothers are those who listen to the word of God and act upon it" (8:19-21). In this story Luke changes the Markan emphasis (cf. Mk 3:31- 35) radically. While Mark depreciates the role of Jesus' mother and relatives, Luke extols it, echoing his first two chapters and show-ing that Mary is the ideal disciple, who listens to God's word and acts on it. (2) On their journey Jesus entered a village where a woman named Martha welcomed him to her home. She had a sis-ter named Mary, who seated herself atthe Lord's feet and listened to his words. Martha, who was busy with all the details of hospitality, came to him and said, "Lord are you not concerned that my sister has left me to do the household tasks all alone? Tell her to help me." The Lord in reply said to her: "Martha, Martha, you are anxious and upset about many things; one thing only is required. Mary has chosen the better portion and she shall not be deprived of it" (10:38-42). Even though Jesus' statement about the one thing necessary has been subject to innumerable interpretations, there is little doubt about the point of this story in the context of Luke's Gospel. Mary has chosen the better part because she is sitting at Jesus's feet and listening to his words, just as any true disciple does. While there are many other themes in the story (such as the role of women and the role of the home-church in early Christianity, which is reinforced here through a Lukan addition), Luke empha-sizes the basis of discipleship: listening to the word of God. That is the better part (see Lk 8:4-21). (3) While he was saying this a woman from the crowd called out "Blessed is the womb that bore you and the breasts that September- October 1992 661 Maloney ¯ Listening nursed you! . Rather," he replied, "blest are they who lis-ten to the word of God and keep it." This passage interrupts, rather puzzlingly, a series of contro-versies that Jesus is involved in during the journey to Jerusalem. But Luke inserts it to clarify the meaning of discipleship once more: real happiness does not lie in physical closeness to Jesus, nor in blood relationship with him, but in listening to the word of God and acting on it. Listening as the Basis for Spirituality All spirituality revolves around self-transcendence. As a work-ing definition for spirituality, we might use one proposed by Sandra Schneiders: "The experience of consciously striving to integrate one's life in terms not of isolation and self-absorption but of self-transcendence toward the ultimate value one per-ceives." l For Christians spirituality involves "putting on the Lord Jesus Christ" (Rm 13:14), "giving away one's life rather than saving it up" (Mk 8:35, Mt 16:25, Lk 9:24, Jn 12:25), and other phrases that imply self-transcendence. The self is not obliterated through self-transcendence; rather, it becomes fully actualized.2 That is the Christian paradox: in giving oneself, one finds one's true self. In that sense authentic love of God, of the neighbor, and of self come together. Authors put this in different ways. For Bernard Lonergan self-transcendence occurs in the radical drive of the human spirit, which yearns for meaning, truth, value, and love. Authenticity, then, "results from long-sustained exercise of attentiveness, intel-ligence, reasonableness, responsibility.''3 For Karl Rahner the human person is the event of the absolute self-communication of God. In his foundational works Rahner describes the human per-son as essentially a listener, one who is always awaiting a possible word of revelation. Only in Jesus, the self-communication of God, is the human person ultimately fulfilled. At the core of the his-torical human person is a gnawing hunger for the other, for abso-lute Value. A particular spirituality is a way in which this longing for the absolute is expressed.4 But this inner yearning for truth and love, this "reaching out," as Henri Nouwen expresses it, can only be satisfied by a word from without--spoken or enfleshed--that reveals what true 662 Review for Religious humanity really is. In the human person the fundamental dispo-sition for receiving that word or Word is listening. It is worth notirig here that Genesis, the wisdom books, and the Johannine tradition all seize on the concept of the Word as the way in which God initiates and breaks into human history. The creating word bears within it its own immediate response: "Let there be light, and there was light." But the word spoken to the human person, who in God's image and likeness rules with free-dom over all creation, must be listened to and responded to freely. Of course, listening here is used in the broadest sense. It includes seeing, hearing, sensing, feeling, perceiving. "Attentiveness" might serve as the term for the various ways in which the human person is ready to grasp what comes from with-out. Listening in this sense is the indispensable precondition for self-transcendence. Without it the word that comes from without goes unheard, the truth that draws the human mind to a vision beyond itself goes unperceived, the love that seeks to capture the heart goes unrequited. Is this why the saints have so stressed the importance of lis-tening in prayer? ls this why obedience has played such an influ-ential role in the tradition of religious communities? Is this why the seeking of counsel has always been regarded as one of the signs of true wisdom? Is this why the Word made flesh and the word of God in the Scriptures are at the center of all Christian spiritual-ity? Is this why the reading of the Scriptures in the liturgy and communion with the Word himself in his self-giving, sacrificial love are "the source and summit" of genuine Christian living? Listening in Vincent de Paul One can find echoes of the listening theme in many tradi-tions. Ignatian discernment, which has exerted such a forceful influence on the countless people who have made the Spiritual Exercises since the sixteenth century, is a means of listening atten-tively to what God is saying and allowing God's word to work conversion within us. Francis de Sales, whose Introduction to the Devout Life has been read by millions since its first publication in 1609, spoke of the need to "be devoted to the word of God whether you hear it in familiar conversation with spiritual friends or in sermons." He urged his readers, "Always listen to it with attention."5 September-October 1992 663 Maloney ¯ Listening Here, however, I will focus briefly on another seventeenth-century figure, Vincent de Paul, whose writings are less well known, but whose charism has influenced enormous numbers of men and women, not only in the two communities he founded (the Vincentians and the Daughters of Charity), but in other com-munities that have sprung up under his inspiration, and also in the hundreds of thousands of Ladies of Charity and St. Vincent de Paul Society members throughout the world. The central place of listening in spirituality is not explicit in the conferences and writings of St. Vincent. But the spirituality he proposes includes several key themes in which the importance of listening is evident. Humility the Foundation of Evangelical Perfection Vincent calls humility "the foundation of all evangelical per-fection and the core of the spiritual life.''6 For him truly humble people see everything as gift. The humble recognize that God is seeking to enter their lives again and again so that he may speak to them. They are alert, they listen for God's word, they are eager to receive God's saving love. The humble know that the truth which sets them free comes from without: through God's word, through the cries of the poor, through the church, through the community in which they live. There is probably no theme that St. Vincent emphasized more. He described humility as the origin of all the good that we do.7 He told the Daughters of Charity: "If you establish your-selves in it, what will happen? You will make this company a par-adise, and people will rightly say that it is a group of the happiest people on earth . ,,8 Humility and listening are closely allied in that listening is the basic attitude of those who know that fullness of life, salvation, wisdom, truth, and love come from without. Brother Robineau, Vincent's secretary, whose reflections about the saint have just been published, notes that this attitude was especially evident in Vincent's conversations with the poor, with whom he would sit and converse with great friendliness and humility.9 St. Vincent loved to call the poor the real "lords and mas-ters" ,0 in the church. It is they especially who must be listened to and obeyed. In the reign of God, the world of faith, they are the kings and queens; we are the servants. Recognizing the special 664 Review for Religious place of the poor in the new order established by Jesus, Vincent was eager not only that his followers would serve and evangelize the poor, but also that they would hear God speaking in those they served or, as we would put it today, that they would allow themselves to be evangelized.1~ Reading Sacred Scripture St. Vincent was convinced that the word of God never fails. It is like "a house built upon rock.''~2 He therefore begins each chapter of his rule and many individual paragraphs with a citation from Scripture. He asks the members of the Congregation of the Mission to read a chapter of the New Testament every day. He wants them to listen to the word of God and to make it the foun-dation of all they do: "Let each of us accept the truth of the fol-lowing statement and try to make it our most fundamental principle: Christ's teaching will never let us down, while worldly wisdom always will." ~3 Abelly, Vincent's first biographer, notes, in a colorful passage, how devoted the saint was to listening to the word of God: "He seemed to suck meaning from passages of the Scriptures as a baby sucks milk from its mother, and he extracted the core and sub-stance from the Scriptures so as to be strengthened and have his soul nourished by them--and he did this in such a way that in all his words and actions he appeared to be filled with Jesus Christ.''~4 "Obeying" Everyone The word "obedience" (ob + audire = to listen thoroughly) is related etymologically to the word "listen" (audire). For St. Vincent the role of obedience in community was clearly very important. But he also extended obedience beyond its usual mean-ing, that all are to obey the legitimate commands of superiors. Using a broadened notion of obedience, he encouraged his fol-lowers to listen to and obey everyone, so that they might hear more fully what God is saying and act on it: Our obedience ought not limit itself only to those who have the right to command us, but ought to strive to move beyond that . Let us therefore consider everyone as our superior and so place ourselves beneath them and, even more, beneath the least of them, outdoing them in defer-ence, agreeableness, and service.Is September-October 1992 665 Maloney ¯ Listening~ Obedience moreover, is not the duty of subjects alone, but of superiors too. In fact, superiors should be the first to obey, by listening to the members well and by seeking counsel: "There would be nothing more beautiful in the world, my daughter, than the Company of the Daughters of Charity if. obedience flour-ished everywhere, with the sister servant the first to obey, to seek counsel, and to submit herself." 16 An Implicit Theme vs. an Explicit One It is clear that listening plays a significant, even if unaccented, role in each of the themes described above. The importance of lis-tening is not, therefore, a "forgotten truth" (to use Karl Rahner's phrase) in the writings of Ignatius Loyola, or Francis de Sales, or Vincent de Paul, or in the overall spiritual tradition; neither, however, is it a central one. Therein lie two dangers. First, truths that remain secondary or merely implicit run the risk of being underemphasized or distorted. For example, reading a chapter of the word of God daily can degenerate into fulfilling an obligation or studying a text unless listening attentively retains its preeminent place. Likewise, the practice of humility, when distorted, can result in subservience to the voices without and deafness to the voices within, where God also speaks. In such a cir-cumstance, "humility" might mask lack of courage in speaking up, deficient self-confidence, or a negative self-image. A distorted emphasis on obedience can cause subjects to listen exclusively to superiors, no matter what other voices might say, even voices that conscience demands that we listen to. Conversely, it could cause a superior to insist loudly that he only has to "listen" to the advice of others, .not follow it (whereas in such instances he may usu-ally listen to almost no one but himself). But when listening retains a place at the center, the danger of distortion is lessened. Reading the word of God, practicing humility, and obeying are seen as means for hearing what God is saying. The accent remains on attentiveness. Second, when the importance of listening is underempha-sized, there is a subtle tendency to focus on particular practices to the detriment of others or to be attentive to certain voices while disregarding others. For instance, a member of a community might pray mightily, seeking to discern what God is saying, but pay little attention to what a superior or spiritual director who 666 Review for Religious knows the person well is trying to say. He or she may listen "tran-scendentally" or "vertically," so to speak, but show little concern for listening "horizontally." Along similar lines, a superior might be very confident that, because of the grace of his office, God lets him know what his will is, while other persons, by the grace of their office, are desperately trying to signify to the same supe-rior that God is saying something quite different. The simple truth is that we must listen to many voices since God speaks to us in many ways. Some of these ways are obviously privileged, but none has an exclusive hold on the truth. Some Ramifications In his wonderful book on community, Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote: The first service that one owes to others in the community consists in listening to them. Just as love of God begins by listening to his Word, so the beginning of love for the brethren is learning to listen to them. It is because of God's love for us that he not only gives us his Word but also lends us his ear. So it is his work that we do for our brother when we learn to listen to him. Christians, especially ministers, so often think they must always contribute something when they are in the company of others, that this is the one ser-vice they have to render. They forget that listening can be a greater service than speaking. Many people are looking for an ear that will listen. They do not find it among Christians, because these Christians are talking where they should be listening. But he who can no longer listen to his brother will soon be no longer listening to God either, he will be doing nothing but prattle in the presence of God too. This is the beginning of the death of the spiritual life. 17 If listening is so crucial to healthy spirituality, then how might members of communities grow in it, both as individuals and in common? Listening as Individuals From reflection on the church's long spiritual tradition, one might glean a number of qualities that characterize good listen-ers. Here I will touch briefly on four, which seem to me crucial for better listening. The first indispensable quality for good listening is humiliW. September- October 1992 667 It is "the foundation of all evangelical perfection, the core of the spiritual life," as Vincent de Paul put it.is Humble people sense their incompleteness, their need for God and other human per-sons. So they listen. Humility acknowledges that everything is gift; it sees clearly that all good things come from God. St. Vincent writes to a priest of the Mission: "Because we recognize that this abundant grace comes from God, a.grace which he keeps on giving only to the humble who realize that all the good done through them comes from God, I beg him with all my heart to give you more and more the spirit of humility." t9 But consciousness of one's incompleteness has a further dimension. It is not only "vertical," so to speak, but "horizontal"; we depend not only on God direcdy, but on God's creation around us. Truth, then, comes from listening not only to God himself, but to other human persons, through whom God's presence and words are mediated to us. The hunger for truth and love that lie at the heart of the mystery of the human person is satisfied only from without. We are inherently social, living within a complex network of relationships with individuals and with society. It is only when what is heard is pondered that its full mean-ing is revealed. The second quality necessary for better listening, then, is prayerful reflectiveness. While at times one can hear God speak even in a noisy crowd, it is often only in silence that one hears the deepest voices, that one plumbs the depth of meaning. The Psalmist urges us: "Be still and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). The Gospels, particularly Luke's, attest that Jesus turns to his Father again and again in prayer to listen to him and to seek his will. Prayer is then surely one of the privileged ways of lis-tening. But it must always be validated by life. One who listens to "what God is telling me" in prayer, but who pays little heed to what others are saying in daily life, is surely suspect. Prayer must be in continual contact with people and events, since God speaks not only in the silence of our hearts, but also (and often first of all) in the people around us. Because prayer is a meeting with God himself, what we say in prayer is much less important than what God says to us. When there is too much emphasis on what we say or do during prayer, it can easily become a "good work," an "achievement," a "speech," rather than a "grace," a "gift," a "gratuitous word" from God. 668 Review for Religious Naturally, prayer, like all human activities, involves structures, personal discipline, persevering effort. But the emphasis must always be on the presence of the personal God, to whose word we must listen attentively as he speaks to us the good news of his love for us and for others. In an era when there is much noise, where the media, if we so choose, speak to us all day long, one must surely ask: Are we able to distinguish the voice of God among the many voices that are speaking? Is God's word able to say "new things" to us? Are we still capable of wonder? As may be evident to the reader, the word wonder has an etymological kinship, through German, with wound. Is the word of God able to wound us, to pen-etrate the membrane that seals us off, that encloses us within ourselves? Can it break into our consciousness and change us? The third necessary quality is respect for the words of human persons. It is here perhaps that the tradition was weakest. It did emphasize humility. It Prayer must be in continual contact with people and events, since God speaks not only in the silence of our hearts, but also in the people around us. did accent the need to hear what God is saying and to discern his will. But it rarely focused explicitly, in the context of spirituality, on the central place of listening to other people. Many contemporary documents put great emphasis on the dignity of human persons and on the importance of hearing the cries that come from their hearts. Vatican II's Gaudium et Spes and the encyclical Redemptor Hominis see the human person as the center of creation,z° Centesimus Annus puts it strikingly: "Today the church's social doctrine focuses especially on man . ,,2~ Respect for human persons acknowledges that God lives in them and that he reveals himself in and through them. It acknowl-edges that words of life come from the lowly as well as the pow-erful. In fact, St. Vincent became gradually convinced that "the poor have the true religion" and that we must be evangelized by them.22 Many of the recently published texts of Brother Louis Robineau, which relate his pe,rsonal experience of Vincent de Paul, attest to the saint's deep, respect for persons of all types. September-October 1992 669 Maloney ¯ Listening Attentiveness is an indispensable means for creating authentic communities. Robineau notes how well Vincent listened to them: poor and rich, lay and clerical, peasant and royal.23 In this context, the process of questioning persons that is involved in the quest for truth takes on a new light. When there is deep respect for all human persons, questioning involves a genuine search for enlightenment, rather than being, in some hidden way, refutation or accusation. Questioning is a tool for delving deeper, for unpeeling layers of meaning, for knowing the other person bet-ter, for digging toward the core of the truth. As we attempt to develop increasing respect for human persons, surely we must ask some challenging questions. Are we really able to hear the cries of the poor, of the most oppressed: the women and chil-dren, who are often the poorest members of society; those discriminated against because of race, color, nationality, religion; the AIDS victims, who are often shunned by their families and by the physically healthy; those on the "edges of life," the helpless infants and the helpless aged, who are unable to speak for themselves? Are we able to hear the counsel given to us by others: by spiritual directors, by members of our own com-munities, by the documents of the church and our own religious congregations? Are we sensitive to the contributions that come from other sources of human wisdom (like economics, sociology, the audiovisual media, the massive data now available in com-puterized form) that often speak concretely about the needs of the poor, that can help us find and combat the causes of poverty or that can assist us in the new evangelization called for by the church? Are we alert, "listening," to the "signs of the times": the increasing gap between the rich and the poor and the repeated call for justice made by the church; the movement toward unity within global society, which is now accompanied by an opposite movement toward separatism and nationalism; the growth of the church in the southern hemisphere, which contrasts with its diminishment in many places in the northern hemisphere. The fourth quality needed is attentiveness, one of the most important signs of respect for the human person. It is the first step in all evangelization, the prerequisite for serving Christ in the poor. It is only when the servant is attentive to the needs of the master (in this case, the poor person) that he really knows what to 670 Review for Religious bring him. It is only when the evangelizer is alert to the needs of the listener that she is able to communicate genuinely good news. Attentiveness is an indispensable means for creating authen-tic communities. If community members do not pay close atten-tion to the opinions and needs of those they live with, each person becomes isolated even if still physically present to others. Those living in community must therefore continually seek renewed ways of listening to each other and of sharing their prayer, their apostolic experience, their struggles in community, their successes and failures, their joys and sorrows. Attentiveness is also of the greatest importance as one seeks counsel. Robineau relates how often St. Vincent asked others their' opinion about matters at hand, "even the least in the house." He often heard him say that "four eyes are better than two, and six better than four.''24 Robineau relates an interesting incident in this regard: One day he did me the honor of telling me that it was nec-essary to make it our practice, when consulting someone about some matter, always to recount everything that would be to the advantage of the opposing party without omitting anything, just as if it were the opposing party itself that was there to give its reasons and defend itself, and that it was thus that consultations should be carried out.zs Listening in Community Meetings, along with consultations and questionnaires of var-ious sorts, are among the primary means of listening in commu-nity. Like most realities, meetings are "for better or for worse." Almost all of us have experienced some that we find very fruitful and others that we would be happy to forget about. To put it in another way, meetings can be a time of grace or a time when sin threatens grace. Communities, like individuals, can become caught up in them-selves. A healthy self-concern can gradually slip into an unhealthy self-preoccupation. Outgoing zeal can be replaced by self-cen-tered security seeking. Communities can be rescued from this state, in a way analogous to that of individuals, only through cor-porate humility,26 a communal effort to listen to God and com-munal attentiveness to the words of others. September-October 1992 671 Maloney ¯ Listening Meetings can be a time when sin threatens grace. When there is no listening, they create strife and division. They disrupt rather than unify. They deepen the darkness rather than focus the light. Among the signs that sin is at work in meetings is fighting. When participants do not listen, there is inevitable strife, bad feelings, disillusionment, bitterness. Such meetings result in fleeing. The group backs away from major decisions, especially those that demand some conversion; it refuses to listen to the prophets; it seeks refuge in the status quo. A further consequence is fractur-ing. When participants do not listen, badly divided splinter groups form; the "important" conversations take place in the corridors rather than in the meeting hall; politics, in the worst sense, takes the place of discernment. Meetings can be an opportunity for grace. They provide us with a wonderful opportunity for listening and discernment. They enable communities to work toward decisions together, as a com-munity. In order for this to happen, those who meet must be com-mitted to sharing their common heritage, creating a climate of freedom for discussion, and planning courageously for the future. In meetings where God is at work, we recall our heritage in order to renew it. We listen to and retell "our story." We recount and rehear the deeds of the Lord in our history. We celebrate our gratitude in the Eucharist and let thanksgiving fill our hearts, for we have heard the wonderful works of the Lord. We share com-munal prayer and reflection because the faith of others strength-ens us. The atmosphere will be grace-filled if all are eager to listen to each other. If all arrive without hardened positions and preju-dices, convinced that the group must seek the truth together, then the groundwork for the emergence of truth has already been laid. The content, no matter how concrete or seemingly pedes-trian, will be grace-filled if all hear the word of God together, listen to each other's reflections on that word, and make deci-sions on that basis. The decisions of a listening community will flow from its heritage while developing the heritage in the light of contemporary circumstances.27 Meetings play an important role within God's providence. God provides for the growth of communities through wise deci-sions that govern their future, especially the training of the young, the ongoing formation of all members, and care for the aging. But such decisions can be made only if the members of the com- 672 Review for Religious munity are willing to listen to the data that describes its present situation and projects its future needs. Communal decision mak-ing, based on realistic projections, is one of the ways in which providence operates in community life. Failure to listen to the data--difficult though it may sometimes be to "hear" it honestly-- results in calamitous "blindness" and "deafness." The listening individual and the listening community will surely grow, for listening is the foundation of all spirituality. To the listener come truth, wisdom, the assurance of being loved. To those who fail to listen comes increasing isolation. Jesus, like the prophets, knew that listening made demands and consequently was often lacking. He lamented its absence: "Sluggish indeed is this people's heart. They have scarcely heard with their ears, they have firmly closed their eyes; otherwise they might see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and under-stand with their hearts, and turn back to me, and I should heal them" (Mt 13:15). He also rejoiced in its presence: "But . . . blessed are your ears because they hear" (Mt 13:16). In recent years many congregations have attempted to assist individuals, local communities, and assemblies to listen better, In workshops much effort has been put into fostering practical lis-tening skills. But are there ways in which communities, particu-larly during initial formation, can better communicate the importance of listening as foundational for growth? If listening is the foundation of all spirituality, as this article has tried to show, then it is crucial for personal growth and for the vitality of all communities. Notes ~ Sandra Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 684. 2 See Ga 2:19-21: "I have been crucified with Christ, and the life I live now is not my own: Christ is living in me. Of course, I still live my human life, but it is a life of faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me." The Greek text identifies Jesus as the self-giving one. It also makes it clear that self-transcendence does not wipe out true human-ity, but fulfills it. 3 Bernard Lonergan, A Third Collection, ed. Frederick Crowe (New York: Paulist, 1985), p. 9. 4 See K. Rahner, Grundkurs des Glaubens (Freiburg: Herder, 1984), pp. 35f, 42f. Septewtber-October 1992 673 Maloney ¯ Listening s Francis de Sales, Introduction to the Devout Life, trans. John K. Ryan (New York: Doubleday, 1972), pp. 107 and 108. 6 Common Rules H, 7. 7 SV IX, 674; see Common Rules H, 7. 8 SV X, 439. 9 Andrd Dodin, ed., Monsieur Vincent racontdpar son secrdtaire (Paris: O.E.I.L., 1991), §46 and §54. 10 See SVIX, 119; X, 332. 1~ See Evangelii Nuntiandi, §15. 12 Common Rules H, 1. ,3 Ibid. 14 Abelly, Book III, 72-73. ~s SV XI, 69. ~6SV IX, 526. ~7 D. Bonhoeffer, Life Together (London: SCM Press, 1954), p. 75. ~Common Rules H, 7. 19 SV I, 182. 20 Gaudium et Spes, §§9, 12, and 22; Redemptor Hominis, passim. 21 Centesimus Annus, ~54. 22 SV XII, 171. 23 Andrd Dodin, ed., Monsieur Vincent racont? par son secrdtaire (Paris: O.E.LL., 1991), especially §§71-83. 24 Ibid, §52. 25 Ibid, §118. 26 Vincent de Paul repeatedly emphasized the need for corporate humility if the congregations he founded were to grow. See SV II, 233: "I think the spirit of the Mission must be to seek its greatness in lowli-ness and its reputation in the love of its abjection." 27 In his essays on spirituality, Karl Rahner distinguishes between "material" and "formal" imitation of Christ. In material imitation, one seeks to do the concrete things that Jesus did, ignoring the extent to which everything he did was influenced by his social context. In formal imitation, one seeks to find the core meaning of what Jesus said or did and apply it within the changed social context. 674 Review for Religious JOHN WICKHAM Two Key Transitions in Spiritual Growth Both in coming to understand our own spiritual develop-ment and (should we be engaged in spiritual direction) in reflecting on where a directee of ours may presently be moving, a sense of the various kinds of transition that often occur can be a great help. I assume here that spiritual growth (changes, new data) are to be expected, are even to be sought. Quite a number of transitions are possible. One can move, for example, from a life of mortal sin to a life of sanctifying grace, from a rather legalistic reliance on external rules to a life of per-sonal choices; or, at the other end of the spectrum, one can move from a devout life to a life of advanced mystical prayer. But two other transitions deserve, I think, special attention today. The two developments I have in mind are often at issue in the Spiritual Exercises ofSt. Ignatiushone of them in the First and Second Weeks taken as a whole, and the other in the unit formed by the Third and Fourth Weeks. In his active spirituality St. Ignatius may be said to have reshaped the "Three Ways" (purgative, illuminative, unitive) into two spiritual transitions, each of which reveals both a negative and a positive side. This essay will attempt to describe and study these two major movements that occur in many dedicated lives. After each of them has been clarified, their relationship and especially their differ-ences will require comment. John Wickham sJ is director of the Ignatian Centre of Spirituality, which prepares and accredits directors. His address is 4567 West Broadway; Montreal, Quebec H4B 2A7; Canada. Septentber-October 1992 675 The First Transition Assuming, as St. Ignatius does at the start of his First Week Rules for Discernment, that we are in touch with persons living a good Christian life, striving to get free of sinful ways and to grow into closer union with God, then this first important tran-sition may be seen to move from relying mainly on getting emo-tional satisfaction to discerning spiritual consolations received from the Lord and felt in the heart. This formulation makes a contrast between emotions and feelings (or felt knowing). Emotions in this usage refer to per-sonal responses to objects in the external world around us (through our five senses) and to interpersonal events in our social setting. There is nothing wrong, of course, with emotional expe-riences. Emotions are often the main stuff of human life. In their endless varieties they fill most of our daily hours. We wake up in one mood and at night perhaps we drift off to sleep in the grip of another. Between times we may be surprised by shifts and changes of emotion or brood over a lingering mystery of emotional confusion. Persons without emotional reactions are hard to bear. We might wonder if they suffer from some disorder. But perhaps their emotions are not warm and pleasant but of the cold, off-putting kind. Whatever their nature, we can be sure that our emotional responses provide the real texture of human life. In themselves they are part and parcel of God's creation. And like other creatures they may be put to good use or they may get us into trouble. Returning to the formula given above, what needs emphasis at this point is the habit of relying too much on emotional satisfac-tions. When we habitually demand to be satisfied emotionally, we become blocked against further spiritual growth. We can become stuck right there. Without realizing the fact, we may be expect-ing God to deliver emotional satisfaction to us and we get angry when God fails to do so. We pray, in effect, a self-centered prayer, "my will be done on earth--not Thine!" While nothing is wrong with emotions in themselves, we can put too much stock in them. Let us be honest, many of us do so a good part of the time. We come to rely almost entirely on our own emotional states. If they are satisfying, "God is good!" If not, "God has rejected me!"--or we imagine things are going wrong. 676 Revie'w for Religious One of the major troubles of social life is to have others inflict their moods on us--because they tend to interpret the nature of reality in terms of current emotions. "The emotion that grips me now tells me who I am and what the world is doing to me." Even if we can avoid inflicting our emo-tional state on others, we still often experience the world in accord with our emotional state at the moment. As the poet Pope tells us, "All looks yellow to the jaundiced eye"--and the world looks rosy through rose-colored glasses. Our emotions easily become a lens that colors our world--for the time they last. This is often how we are as we begin our spiritual journey. There is nothing very surprising about it. And so a well-known stage of purification consists in getting free of emotional demands. First comes the step of noticing our emotional reactions, of naming them as they occur, and of refusing to identify our being with their con-tinuance. In order to become liberated from their insistent claim upon us, we learn to do small penances. In the past there has often been a danger of coming to despise our own emotions--an undesirable side-effect when struggling to gain freedom by willpower alone from these emotional claims. ~Without further treatment of that point, I merely note here the need to avoid puritanical efforts in this transition. We are dealing with spiritual growth, which is always initiated and brought about by divine grace. We do, of course, need to cooperate with such graces, and small penitential acts are forms of cooperation. But our highly emotive personal responses are right and true in themselves. Even if emotional self-denial is necessary for a cer-tain time, we will need to return to our emotions just as soon as we can get free of their tyranny. Then they may become, not only right and true, but beautiful and even holy. Emotional self-denial is only a temporary ploy within a larger movement of growth, not the main aim of the spiritual life. An egotistical tendency (if it is present) to invest our sense of self mainly in our emotional satisfactions needs to be purified during the First Week exercises. That is, of course, a rather sub-jective way of approaching the areas of sinfulness that call for purification, but it seems appropriate here because I am focus- When we habitually demand to be satisfied emotionally, we become blocked against further spiritual growth. September-October 1992 677 ,Wick~ ham ¯ Key Transitions,, ing on interior transitions. The Rules for Discernment them-selves lay heavy stress on the desolations to be expected in a per-son striving to move forward, and on the need to persevere in that intention despite the losses of emotional satisfaction that may be experienced. Spiritual Feeling In the more positive phases of the continuing transition, spir-itual consolations arising from moments of union with Jesus the Lord may make their presence felt as one enters the Second Week of the Exercises. It is assumed at this point that exercitants have already heard the call of Christ to follow him and have responded (with varying degrees of enthusiasm) to that summons. And dur-ing the contemplations of the public life that follow, each one must learn how to discern true from false consolations. An elementary principle to be noted here is that consolations of the Lord are not to be identified as "feeling good" and deso-lations as "feeling bad." Many today use the term "feeling" in a general sense that includes (or mainly denotes) what I have described above as emotions. That is a defensible usage, but in this essay I wish to separate the term "feelings" from the term "emo-tions" as already defined. I want to cast light on the rather dif-ferent movements we may experience at a deeper, more interior level of our being. In other words, I wish to define feeling (an enduring state) and feelings (momentary events or "touches") as personal responses that occur at our spiritual center in the core of our being, and not primarily in our social world. Humans may be said to enjoy a double-leveled awareness, one with outer and inner dimensions. In this discussion I am using emotions to refer to responses at the outer level, and feeling to refer to responses at the inner level. Quite correctly, it should be insisted that outer and inner lev-els are continually interacting together. Whena sudden event moves us wholly, it is often true that emotions and feelings are impossible to distinguish. Tears start from our eyes, our heart is fully engaged, we cry out with joy or sorrow, we even experience sensations in our body (waves of heat or cold, tingling of the spine, pressures in hands or feet, a burning forehead, and so on). Similar points may be made about calmer experiences as well. 678 Review for Religious In fact, it is normal for human beings to "sense" a two-way intercourse between outer and inner events, between what occurs in the social world and simultaneously in the interior feeling. Our reflective capacity, which is not merely mental but also passion-ate, is precisely what makes our awareness human. Our con-sciousness is multidimensional. While we know and feel, we also know we are knowing and feeling. And when we respond emo-tionally, we are aware at the same time of various intuitions under-lying our most emphatic emotions. Even when we "forget our self" in some activity or other, that welcome effect is considered unusual--an exception to the rule, and never total. Besides, an egotistical self-awareness is not the only kind of selfhood we may experience. We may be full of self-doubt, for example, or eagerness, or mistrust, or calm happiness, and so on. The Inner Self All the same, what is transpiring in this first transition is pre-cisely a development of interior selfhood. As certain modes of dominance by the outer self are overcome, we receive a new growth of inner self---a very important transition in anyone's life. Today we may take it for granted that the "self" we are talk-ing about, no matter how much trouble it may get us into, is a positive value in its own right, not to be identified with mere self-ishness or false egotism. Only fairly recently did this new assump-tion gain acceptance. For example, in The Imitation of Christ the term "self" was rarely used except in a pejorative sense, and it followed that one's main goal was to get free of it as much as possible. That view continued to be the dominant one until only a few decades ago. The shift that has taken place so recently has brought with it a new sense of the human subject, of selfhood as a valuable reality-- however much it may need to be discovered, owned, purified, and developed. A much stronger awareness of the "inner-self"--at least as a potential reality--has arisen among many members of our secu-lar culture today. Often we know it first for negative reasons: we are hurt, we feel misunderstood, we are unable to communicate our special desires or intentions, we are judged wrongly or become unsure of what we really meant. It causes a great deal of confusion, September-October 1992 679 anger, resentment, and so on. But at some point or other it may dawn on us that, despite the urgent need we may be feeling for much more growth and clarity, our inner self is a reality, valu-able in and for its own simple being. We may begin to experi-ence our own goodness as a fact. It need not, and cannot, be earned or proven. It is just "given." Through faith I may know that my personal existence is received from God who does not choose to make me without lov-ing me. My selfhood is real and my unique being is loved--even holy. That realization is such a remarkable event in anyone's life that it calls for prolonged attention and care during the earlier stages of spiritual growth. Since I assume that the above reality is widely recognized and appreciated today, I wish to focus now upon the kind of transition involved in its realization. An individual coming through that key transition begins to experience things in a personal way that may be called heartfelt. They are spiritual feelings and illuminations in the inner self. These consolations (or desolations) differ noticeably in qual-ity from emotions experienced in the outer, social world. And the transition from relying mainly on emotions to rel~ing mainly upon spiritual consolations (feeling) is a very significant "moment" in one's development. Not a False but a True Self This transition has been the main aim of novitiate programs ii~ recent centuries, although in most cases the novitiate was directed toward the positive adoption of each congregation's way of life. In other words, a single spiritual "style" or mode of oper-ation was proposed for every novice to imitate and put into prac-tice, and what needed to be sacrificed in order to obtain this goal was the ordinary tendency to demand emotional satisfactions for oneself. The self in question was taken to be wholly "selfish" and needed to be "offered up." Today a single spiritual lifestyle imposed on everyone alike has been replaced by "the charism of the founder/foundress" in a way that leaves room for the unique selfhood of each member to receive recognition and approval. As a result, the sense of self in question had to be clarified. The false self, which needs to be purified, is one that demands 680 Revievo for Religious emotional satisfactions and is upset when these are not forth-coming. But the true self, to be realized through penance and pa.tient striving against desolations, is received as a gift from God and recognized in consolations consisting of spiritual feeling and preconceptual knowing (experiences of sentir). A special way of following Christ, modeled in each congre-gation by the founder/foundress, will enable new members to undergo a radical purification of their conscious (or outer) self in the process of identifying their center of being in their heart's core. Members of vowed congregations who were trained in the older system have likely gone through an adjustment of this sort during recent decades. Each one will need to say how he or she has made the required adaptation, if indeed it has taken place, and what precisely was involved. But in general it may be said with some confidence that this first transition, which is of primary importance in spiritual growth, has been clarified as the emergence of an inner self united with the Lord in discipleship. What prevents its growth is usually the habit of expecting or relying upon emotional satisfactions, a habit which must be changed if the desired transition is to take place. Once it has been changed, and soon after the new inner self has grown accustomed to spiritual consolations, a reintegration of the'whole person with her or his emotional responses should then commence. This process will involve the formation of new social habits on the basis of the inner self so recently received from the Lord as a true actuation of one's potential being. The Second Transition An expectation of further growth should not disappear from our purview for too long after the first transition has been com-pleted. True enough, a directee who begins to enjoy true spiritual consolations does require considerable time (perhaps several years) to integrate them and create a new way of life on the basis of the inner self they bring alive. But the moment will inevitably come when remembering past graces will no longer suffice. As soon as signs of this new need begin to appear, the director (if not the directee) ought to recognize them. Such signs may point to the onset of a second, rather different transition. What might signs of this new sort be like? In general, con-solations of "the Second Week type" curiously do not seem to Septentber-October 1992 681 Wickbam ¯ Key Transitions operate "as well as" ones of an earlier stage. In different contexts, we should notice, St. Ignatius employs the same word, "consola-tion," in somewhat different senses. In the First Week, for exam-ple, which deals with persons who seek to be more and more purified from their sins, the ferm simply means experiences lead-ing to closer union with God. But in the Second Week it means experiences of persons bound in close discipleship to the Lord; because these apparent consolations may come from God or from the enemy, they need to be examined much more carefully. It is my contention here that the term is further varied in the Third and Fourth Weeks: if it gains in nuance by moving from the purgative to the illuminative way, we should not be surprised that it varies again in moving to the unitive way. It is usually rather puzzling to find that "what used to make me happy no longer does so." Naturally enough, we normally expect things to continue as they were. But the fact of the matter is that we may change so significantly (because of Our authentic spiritual growth) that what used to console us does not console us any more. Former ways, including ways of praying, that we had first discovered with some difficulty and later came to enjoy with a sense of real progress now seem to leave us cold. They no longer satisfy our hearts, but instead cause a certain malaise or uneasiness. It can be quite disconcerting. What can have gone wrong? At first we may fasten on various explanations: we are not trying hard enough; we have grown com-placent and lack humility; we should return to our former graces with renewed enthusiasm, and so on. But try as we will, the loss of taste, the lack of any real sense of meaning and .value in our usual way of life, continues to bother us. Of course, many different factors may be relevant in the case of each person. But I want to introduce the possibility of a new kind of transition as an important consideration in many cases. If indeed the divine Spirit is moving us to a new stage of growth, then we are obliged to give it some attention. Unitive Experiences Since what I will be describing his to do with the unitive way, let me begin by insisting that this traditional stage of spiritual development is not exceptional, not meant for only a very few persons, and not regularly accompanied by unusual mystical phe- 682 Review for Religious nomena. Unitive graces are an ordinary occurrence in most devout lives, just as are those of the illuminative and purgative ways. (Besides, concretely speaking, even after one has discerned unitive experiences, he or she is not usually separated for very long from renewed moments of purification and illumination. Perhaps one should stress the fact that occasional unitive graces do not mean one is "firmly established" in the unitive way--what-ever that may mean.) It is my conviction that the Third and Fourth Weeks of the Spiritual Exercises cannot be reduced to a "confirmation of Second Week graces." That may be legitimate in many cases, but the limitation ought to be spelled out rather than turned into a general rule. Let me be explicit: a limitation of Third and Fourth Week graces occurs quite legitimately when the individual person has for the first time received graces belonging to the first transition or when a notable deepening of that transition has been granted. In other words, the person's "inner self" has been realized or deep-ened in graces of union with Christ--and this is quite new for this individual. In that case (and it is a very important develop-ment) the Third and Fourth Weeks are likely to consist mainly of graces that confirm the key event that has so recently transformed the person involved. The Passion of Jesus may be shared in many different ways-- even by the same people at different times. I may cling to the cross in a sort of desperation if I am in serious danger of falling into mortal sin. Or during a crisis of decision making or of self-doubt I may dwell in the Garden of Gethsemane. Alternatively, I might find my personal illness or injuries transformed by a new way of sharing in the sufferings of Christ. Or I could accept obsta-cles thrown across my path, get free of resentments that have long bothered me, or deal more creatively with insults and humil-iations that come my way by prayerfully participating in what the Lord endured in his Passion out of love for me. This list could be much extended, but I simply wish to illus-trate here the wide variety of possible experiences we may find. At least a mention may be made of special graces of union with the Passion, such as we may read about in St. Juliana or other spiri-tual writers. Some of these may be clarified in what follows, but my main concern is to speak about Third Week (and Fourth Week) graces in a way that might enable ordinary Christians seek- September-October 1992 683 ~ickham ¯ Key Transitions ing a closer union with the Lord to recognize the possible mean-ing of unitive experiences that may also have been given to them. When the Passion of Christ "confirms" the first transition in the experience of a given directee, then that person's union with the Lord (so recently received or deepened) may be clarified and strengthened through worldly rejections and insults, even when these are taken in prayer to the limit situations of betrayal, impris-onment, violence, condemnation, and death. In other words, one's interior meaning and value as a person created and saved by the Lord and called to his service will become much more surely "known" in consolations received when contemplating the Passion. The Resurrection contemplations, in similar fashion, may confirm the previous grace more positively through experiences of a new way of life operating out of spiritual feelings received in the depths of the inner self. Those "Second Week" consolations may become clarified and strengthened through experiences of union with the risen Lord. Such graces received during the Fourth Week are to be discerned, unless I am mistaken, as confirming the Second Week graces already obtained by the directee. Limiting the Last Two Weeks In short, in these cases (only), confirmation of the Election in the Passion and Resurrection contemplations may be taken as appropriate during the Third and Fourth Weeks. This means that the central grace of the Spiritual Exercises is seen to be one of inti-mate personal union with Jesus (most fully revealed in the Election). What I have called the "first transition" may be rec-ognized as the main event for the individual person one is direct-ing-- even during the last two Weeks. So frequently is this the case today that many directors tend to consider it the only true goal of the Third and Fourth Weeks. But if that is so, then their notion of the unitive way has become dangerously foreshortened. For all practical purposes, it has been subordinated to the purgative and illuminative ways. But if the unitive way is truly a normal dimension in the growth of every devout Christian (as I believe it to be), then its omission from the Spiritual Exercises would be a limitation that raises serious questions. And to restrict unitive graces to a few exceptional persons would, in my opinion, be equally damaging. There is secular evidence to give us pause today. When 684 Review fbr Religious Maslow began to publish his findings on "peak experiences," he was under the impression that only a small number of persons had undergone this type of interior opening. But further research by himself and others produced widespread testimonies to simi-lar events. Eventually he reached the conviction that peak expe-riences of one kind or another are universal, although ignored or repressed by a hardy few. While his concept of "peak experiences" is ambiguous and may refer to quite a wide range of phenomena, his evidence cannot be restricted to what I have named the first transition. What I would like to call the second transition, then, would always assume the previous acquisition of first-transition graces. For example, if we suppose that a directee before making the Spiritual Exercises has already received profound graces of the Second Week type, what would likely occur during the first two Weeks? Usually one would expect the directee to receive confir-matory graces during those meditations and contemplations. But I would add that such prayer experiences might also be prepara-tory to more advanced graces possibly to be offered during Weeks Three and Four. If a director is not open to this possibility, then the fore-shortening of the Exercises, already mentioned, becomes all too likely. And if the more advanced graces of the second transition are actually given, such a director would not know what to make of them. The directee's experiences might easily be misunder-stood and the director could fall into false discernments. I believe that this has in fact occurred far too often. Challenges to a Good Way of Life The reality of spiritual growth reveals how frequendy believ-ers find that God disallows their apparently excellent form of commitment to the divine service. "The rug is pulled out from under their feet," we could say. Let us assume, for the sake of argument here, that the way of life of a given directee is truly unselfish and generous. It has been discerned carefully under direction, and has in fact become fruitful in its apostolic outreach. Is it possible that God might call the individual to surrender, or move away from, this entirely good way of life? Not only is it possible, it ftequendy takes place. A car accident, a heart attack, a financial loss, or social changes intervene to make September-October 1992 685 IVickbam ¯ Key Transitions our chosen course no longer viable. From many (limited) points of view, this makes no sense at all. But the point of view that mat-ters is the divine one--where we are called to believe and trust without knowing why, without making our own merely "common sense views" the final criterion in our discernment. This is what must have challenged Mary, the Mother of Jesus, on that first Holy Saturday. To her way of thinking, what could have been better than the life and teaching of Jesus? And yet its rejection in Israel was permitted by the divine mystery. Mary had to accept that baffling course of events, painful as it was in the extreme, without any "human" understanding of its value. We might say that God asked her to endure a spiritual death in her own heart corresponding exactly with the actual death of her Son. If this line of thought is pushed a little further, of course, we may perceive that the Passion and Death of Jesus was itself most acutely a spiritual death for our Lord himself. Had he not set his heart upon the conversion of Israel whom he desired to gather under his wings as a hen gathers her chicks? But they would not have it so. Instead, he was compelled to accept the rejection of his teachings, and of himself with them, at the hands of those in Israel who were in positions of wealth, prestige, and power. Only a few remained his followers. Jesus embraced this destiny out of love for all his people (including the very ones who were bent on his destruction). Not only did he accept the loss of what he had hoped to gain, but he did so with generosity of spirit. And so the Father raised him to a new role in the course of our history, a role that brought him into direct relation with every nation on earth. That spiritual death, which he so fully accepted, led to a new form of spiritual life for every people--even for ourselves. This, of course, is the pattern set for all of us by our Lord in his paschal mystery. But it should be obvious that we do not reach the fuller modes of participation all at once. Only gradually over many years do the devout followers of Jesus find the path to a more complete union with the Lord in the mystery of divine pur-pose. This does not mean that what we presently do will certainly be taken away during our course of active life (that remains a mystery of the future). It means only that, if we do move forward in union with the Lord, our basic attitude toward what we do and who we are will likely be tested in a more radical way. Even so, 686 Re~ie~ for Religious those who know us externally may not even notice the changes occurring deep within us. But somehow, through threats of illness, accidents, or altered situations that touch each one of us deeply, experiences like those that came upon our Lady and the other disciples of our Lord-- experiences, that is, of a spiritual death corresponding to the actual death embraced by Jesus out of love--will need to be encountered. And if we are graced by the divine love, we may pass through that "radicalization of the paschal mystery" so as to enter into a new kind of life in God--or at least into momentary tastes of it. This is what I mean by unitive graces. The Root of the Matter The term "radicalization" refers to the removal of more deeply rooted barriers to union with the Lord. Negative events similar to the ones mentioned above may occur in our lives, of course, without becoming the occasion of unitive graces. What is assumed here is that advanced graces of purification from sin have already been received, and that graces of intimate discipleship have also been conferred which have enabled well-discerned com-mitments to service of the Lord's kingdom in this world. It is only some years after a first transition has been made that certain neg-ative events may trigger an experience of lost selfhood or lost capacity for going on--even though outwardly one still goes throughthe motions that resemble a normal life. But why is it necessary to "die" to our good interior self in order to "live" in the heights of the spirit? Whatever answers we attempt will necessarily dwell within the mystery of divine union. Does our chosen way of life in its underpinnings somehow tend to place a barrier between ourselves and God? If so, why should that be? Does our most intimate sense of true selfhood always to some degree (because it remains unfinished) hinder us in our encoun-ters with God? Does our entry into utter transcendence always call for a further surrender--and yet never actually deny the validity of our individual and communal being? (These are far from being new questions--they belong to a well-worn tradition.) Sometimes our experiences of union seem to emphasize a oneness that obliterates awareness of distinct selfhood or to bring about a newness of love-identity in the Other that makes us eas- September-October 1992 687 ily forget our usual human longing for recognition as individuals. True. But these passing tastes and their remembered glories refer to unitive graces which at first can stun us with their breakthrough "difference." By this I mean that the experiential qualities tend to capture too much attention at first--they are new to us, very fulfilling, and so ~ometimes a bit extravagant. Nonetheless, the substantial reality of a grace, once given, is never taken away by the Lord even though the experiential aspects are temporary. We remember the experiences, but we are still inwardly changed and even "put together" differently by the substantial character of those gifts. The Way of the Cross In the specific case of unitive graces, however, a prior expe-rience of spiritual death points to another factor. There is no way to Easter, as we know, that does not pass through Calvary. In the terms already used above, this means that radical experiences of union with the risen Lord in the "heights of the spirit" are not possible for us until we have undergone a spiritual death "in the depths of the soul." P~erhaps this factor can be clarified by saying that we are not ready for unitive graces (of the Fourth Week type of consolation) until we have experienced the loss of interior consolations previ-ously given us (Second Week spiritual feelings and illuminations). In terms of selfhood, we might say that we must die (not to any false self, but) to the good "inner self" given to us in the first transition. Only the loss of that very g~od gift can prepare us to receive a "higher self," spiritually communicated to us by the risen Christ in this second transition. In consequence, the two transitions I have been describing are related in the Spiritual Exercises--and beyond them. The "spiritual death" that essentially prepares for the second transition is the experiential loss precisely of the grace already received in the first transition. There can be no second transition, then, if the first has not previously occurred. We should note that the "second kind of humility" is cer-tainly meant for use in the Election. The "third kind of humility," on the other hand, is intended to enable directees--should they actually receive that grace--to move forward into the second tran-sition after their full acceptance of the first. 688 Review for Religious Concretely, of course, this conceptual clarity is muddied by many variations in practice: both transitions may be combined or crossmated, along with backward and forward movements, fre-quent delays and regressions, sudden spurts and more sudden withdrawals--endless "visions and revisions," as Eliot puts it. The actual circumstances do not often present ready-made examples for our mental laboratory. MI the same, our awareness of the "crucial" contrast between the second transition and the first may prove helpful. If the approach taken here is even approximately correct, then we may be assisted in discerning the special qualities of second-transition experiences, especially in their earlier phases (of the Third Week sort). And this may enable us to avoid false strictures on our own or others' responses to these movements of grace. Qualities of the New Life The first transition, then, moves an individual from relying mainly on emotional satisfactions to receiving spiritual consola-tions in the inner self. The sedond transition may be said to move one from a well-accepted habit of interior union with the Lord and a way of life based upon it to a new life received directly from the risen Christ and enabling experiences of a higher self. It remains to suggest various qualities of the higher life that is enabled by unitive graces. First of all, although one's ordinary life, of course, continues, along with it (and not only behind it but also "in among" it) there is known to be a divine presence-- ever so delicate and respectful of one's freedom. That factor may grow more powerful at certain times, but often it remains gentle, although unmistakable. Another feature is a "higher" movement of the Spirit--rather unlike the heartwarming and compelling graces of the first tran-sition (which are usually "deep" and "interior" in quality). It is the awareness of divine mystery operating everywhere, bringing about God's will despite all evidence to the contrary; it is a dis-position to wait for God to reveal the divine will, to expect this and not to be surprised when it comes. It means not to speak until words are given, not to act until one "knows" how the Lord desires to act in the community. These few features may be taken as examples of the higher life (often seen in the lives of the saints). In general, that nothing Septentber-October 1992 689 should prevent God from loving others through my life becomes the central desire of my existence, the main reason for continu-ing to live. It need not, on the other hand, mean that the interior expe-riences of the inner self do not return and are not customary in one who has received unitive graces. It is just that one can no longer identify oneself with them. They are available at times and should be exercised. But they may also be taken away, and one is ready now to let them go. All this is possible because the risen Lord has made his divine presence felt by uplifting one to the level of his own activities in the church, in each person, and in every part of the world. Burning Bush Afire burns outside my bedroom window, October-red euonymus its name. As I look down The blood-red leaves leap up Vivid as living rivulets of flame. Transfixed, ! stand, New-wakened in the early autumn dawn. Then, barefoot, kneel, Obedient, Although no voice is heard. What angel calls me - silent? "Here I am!" I almost cry, Drawn by this shock of unconsuming fire To listen, stricken as Moses, For some name, some quickening word. Therese Lynch csJ 690 Revie'w fbr Religious DAVID E O'CONNOR Seeking a Sense of Direction in a Time of Transition As we try to read the "signs of the times" and prepare for an unknown future, we should not forget the lessons of the past. We should take note of the cultural, theologi-cal, ecclesial, ideological, and generational influences that have moved our personal and collective lives as religious in certain directions. And we should be alert to the factual changes, adjustments, adaptations, and developments which seem to indicate some of the shapes and forms that religious life may be taking as we approach the third mil-lennium. religious life Recalling the Lessons of History Recent historical scholarship has opened our eyes to the uneven history of religious life--a history filled with crises and chaos, with high points and low? Interestingly, there have been relatively short periods of time when the church and religious life appeared to enjoy some institu-tional tranquillity and stability. More than once the whole concept of religious life seemed doomed to extinction by events out of control. Religious in North America, especially during the first part of the twentieth century preceding the Second Vatican David O'Connor ST teaches at the Washington Theological Union. He is the author of Witness and Service: Questions about Religious Life Today (Paulist Press, 1990). His address is 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. Septetttber-October 1992 691 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction Council, found themselves in one of those rare stable periods in the church. It was a time when the highest leadership in the Roman Catholic Church, beginning in the late nineteenth century and ending only in the middle of the twentieth, had chosen a defensive and protective position, effectively withdrawing from a changing and modern world which, in fact, was often hostile to it. The Catholic Church centralized itself at the Vatican to a degree unknown until then. Within this same period of time, the Catholic Church in the United States developed and flourished.2 American Catholics were, for the most part, an immigrant population that experi-enced the hostility of the WASP (white, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant) culture. While retaining a fierce loyalty to Rome, they tried to prove they were loyal Americans as well. For them the Roman Catholic Church appeared to be the model of stability and the rock of certitude. Although the worldwide Catholic Church of this period seemed intransigent, it was, in fact, still recovering from the buf-feting of social and historical changes that had rocked it at the end of the eighteenth century and into the nineteenth. Following the French Revolution, religious life and many other institutions of the church seemed to be in their death throes. Yet, by the beginning of the twentieth century, it was clear that the church and religious life had recovered their vitality and were experi-encing unprecedented growth. In the 150 years preceding Vatican II, religious life had more than recovered from previous losses. Statistically, its number of members peaked in 1965.3 The post-Vatican II period, through which we are presently living, has been one of immense social and cultural changes. The council fathers thrust the church into the modern world, and fall-out from this movement of the Spirit in the church has occa-sioned a difficult time of transition for all, especially religious in the Western world. The rnove from a church-imposed inflexibil-ity and rigidity of the pre-Vatican II period to a church-initiated reform of religious life in the post-Vatican II period brought about an upheaval that was radical and spectacular in its magni-tude and complexity.4 No one could have imagined the depth and breadth of these changes. Indeed, we are still too close to events to make a true assessment. We will have to leave that to a future generation. Presently, it is still difficult to read the signs of the times because they are so ambiguous. Yet one of the clear lessons 692 Review for Religious of history is that drastic changes in religious life in the past did precede new forms of dedication and new vitality which were appropriate for the new needs of the church in a new time and in new situations. God does speak to us through history. One of the more important lessons of history is that, while religious life appears to be perennial, individual religious insti-tutes are not. Dedication, consecra-tion, and commitment to Jesus and his people are evident in the lives of groups and individuals throughout the history of the church, but the forms these have taken and their specific expression in individual groups, communities, monasteries, and institutes does change. Institutes are like people--they are born, they grow, they live their lives, and even-tually they die.s V~hile monastic groups can sur-vive with a minimum of members, and even decrease to a handful of people in one or two monasteries, apostolic institutes cannot. Apostolic groups frequently respond to spe-cific needs at certain times and in particular places in the life of the church. Once they have achieved their purposes, they tend to fade away or find new life through adaptation and change. In any case, an apostolic group requires many members to fulfill its corpo-rate role and purpose. The institutional life of these religious, all things considered, is much shorter and more tenuous than that of monastic groups. However, some forms of religious life have had the ability to be revitalized over and over again through reform, adaptation, and new expressions. One need only consider the Rule of St. Benedict, which has been adjusted to multiple forms of monastic and quasimonastic life. While individual monasteries or groups of them fade away, new ones are established in other places and times. Each institute has its own life to live. Not a few have seemed to be dying out or even were suppressed, as was the Drastic changes in religious life in the past did precede new forms of dedication and new vitality which were appropriate for the new needs of the church in a new time and in new situations. September-October 1992 693 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction Society of Jesus in 1773, only to be given new life and experi-ence spectacular growth. Nevertheless, breakdown and death are probably inevitable for every religious institute. Some may have a very short life and others may live for an unusually long time, just as individual per-sons do. Calamities and misfortunes overtake certain groups. It might be combinations of political and economic or social and religious events which occasion their breakdown and demise. Often these events have nothing to do with the interior vitality of the group. For example, .when pestilence decimated the Western world in the fourteenth century, the mendicant orders were espe-cially ravaged when many members generously ministered to the sick and dying; some orders lost half their membership.6 Time also takes its toll. The life and death of individual com-munities frequently have nothing to do with the spiritual vitality of the members. Often, in fact,'it appears that in periods of decline the membership display many virtues and signs of dedication. Their corporate life has simply come to an end. As death crowns their collective life, other dedicated people often rise up to meet the new challenges confronting the church. Contemporary Influences on Western Religious Life Cultural Factors. The church does not exist in a cultural vacuum, but in the world as it is. We are, at present, living through a period of exceptionally rapid and revolutionary cultural change in an increasingly technological society. Our Western culture has had an immense influence on the attitudes of our people toward freedom, authority, obedience, sexuality, intimacy, and affectiv-ity. Periods of rapid social change promote personal and institu-tional instability and make it extremely difficult for people, especially the young and inexperienced, to make any permanent and unconditional commitment as expected in marriage, the priesthood, or religious life. The high incidence of divorce and remarriage and the many departures from the clergy and reli-gious life coupled with a corresponding drop in vocations dur-ing the last two and a half decades manifest this unfortunate social fact. The postconciliar years also chanced to coincide with "a kind of cultural revolution which led to a break with tradition, a crisis of authority, and indifference toward questions of faith, great 69¢ Review for Religious uncertainty about moral values, and a crisis in the realm of ethics.''7 The whole world seemed caught up in a series of extraor-dinary social and cultural changes. These enormous cultural shifts and their concomitant crisis of meaning forced even the religious who did not leave their communities during these years to change their lives in such a radical way that their communities are now different from the ones they originally entered decades ago.8 The American cultural values of personalism and personal fulfillment, freedom and self-determination, pluralism, democratic self-crit-icism, and egalitarianism and an emphasis on productivity and success have frequently clashed with an older and more rigid reli-gious life.9 In the period before Vatican II, religious life became part of the Catholic ethos and was carried along by its own cogency. It was largely insulated from the broader currents of American cul-ture. This situation, however, could not continue--certainly not for many members who left it after the reforms called for by the council began to take effect,j° Moreover, Catholics are no longer social outsiders in the U.S. culture; they have joined the nation's insiders.II Because of its outsider mentality, the Catholic Church had built its own vast school system, its own hospitals, newspapers, and fraternal and professional societies parallel with everything that was found among the WASP insiders. Large numbers of Catholic men and women joined religious life. It was a natural way for many to obtain an education and take their place in the Catholic society of that time. Now that Catholics are social insid-ers, they are no longer attracted to serve only in church institu-tions, for many options are available to them in the larger society and in the church.12 Also, the present-day phenomenon of the prolongation of adolescence into the early twenties and the consequent delayed adulthood of many young people in our culture is a sociological fact.13 Large numbers of young adults remain dependent upon others and do not assume full responsibility for themselves until, perhaps, they are forced by circumstances to do so later in life. This has had a direct effect upon the vocational and formational problems facing religious communities. The perceptions of young people concerning religious life today are quite different from those of their elders.14 The younger the person, the less he or she perceives religious life as dynamic and effective, and the less attractive it is to him or her. Moreover, Septentber-October 1992 695 O'Connor ¯ Seeking a Sense of Direction because the positive perception women religious have of them-selves is not shared in the same degree by those outside religious life, it does not bode well for the replacement of present mem-bership. 15 Most significantly, because of the changed perceptions regarding the value of a celibate lifestyle on the part of so many people in our culture, the continuance of a celibate religious life, as we know it, is highly problematic with regard to the availabil-ity of potential candidates. There are very few people open to considering such a lifestyle, in the opinion of professional observers.16 Therefore, to state that religious life is countercultural in our present society is to assert an all-too-obvious fact. Theological and Ecclesial Factors. Pope John Paul II expressed his own grave concern about the drop in religious vocations when he sent a letter to the bishops of the United States on 3 April 1983. A pontifical commission was established to investigate the matter--dubbed the Quinn Commission because Archbishop John R. Quinn, of San Francisco, was appointed the pontifical dele-gate. 17 This commission made its lengthy report to the pontiff in October 1986 and a shorter one to the U.S. bishops in November 1986.18 The report did affirm many positive developments sucla as the rediscovery of the charisms of many institutes, the deepening of authentic spirituality, a new appreciation of apostolic religious life, a new awareness of the uniqueness of each individual reli-gious, the promotion of a greater participation in the decision-making processes of the institute, a new appreciation of the universality of the church's mission, a growing awareness of the feminine, the development of new constitutions, and new signs of hope through older and more mature vocations.19 It did note, however, that the universal call to holiness of all members of the church made at Vatican II in the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (§§ 39-42) affected religious and those who were contemplating entering religious life. This affir-mation of a common vocation to live a full Christian life was inserted in the conciliar document before its treatment of reli-gious life. It effectively undercut the popular misconception that the call to holiness lay primarily in religious life and in the priest-hood, or that one needed to enter them to pursue holiness seri-ously. A clear call to holiness was being made to (and heard by) 696 Review for Religious those in the married and the single life and not just to those liv-ing the celibacy of the religious life and the priesthood. Second, religious women and men took to their hearts the council documents' emphasis on social justice, which expanded upon the social teachings of the Gospel and the popes. This emphasis was reinforced by the personal experience of religious when they encountered social evil and injustice in their efforts to live and preach the Gospel. This experience, however, seemed to some to place apostolic religious in a theological bind between two apparently contrary church expectations: that they live "apart from the world" while they live and minister with an "option for the poor" in a modern world filled with social injustice. Third, the council'g reaffirmation of the need for the lay peo-ple to serve and to minister--to evangelize--in response to their baptismal call had an effect on religious. They became aware of the apostolic call made to all the faithful. The identity of religious can become clouded in periods of theological and ecclesial change. Their sense of direction and their morale are affected. Some religious now see themselves more as lay people. They react negatively to any restriction they per-ceive

Issue 48.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1989. ; R~:.vn~w voa R~:.t.~c,~ous (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office: 3601 Lindcll Blvd. Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add U.S. $5.00 per year; for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rl~v~'0,, ~:o~ Rl-:t.~c;ous; P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to Rt:v~t:w roa RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors September/October 1989 Volume 48 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv:vt~w you R~:~.~;~otJs; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from Rv:\'~v:w voa Rr:~.~;~o~JS; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues 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 I0010. PRISMS . We Christians come to know our calling to a certain kind of minis-try in the Church through our fidelity to prayer--a continuing dialogue in our relationship with God. By way of analogy, those in the vocation of married life know that the sacramental celebration of matrimony rep-resents only the start of a new relationship together with God. It will take a married lifetime of dialogue with each other and with God and of so living to make the reality of the sacrament come true. Similarly, those in the vocation of religious life signify in some way (commonly through some kind of vow-taking) that they are professing and aiming at a spe-cial relationship with God with the wholeness of their lives. Again re-ligious are well aware that vow or profession day is only the beginning of the dialoguing and of the living out of this "aimed-at" relationship. In these vocations of married and religious life, the Christian prayer of both the individual and the community (marital or religious) is a neces-sary part of the continuing dialogue which keeps alive and nourishes the particular vocation undertaken by our first responding to God's initia-tive. The call to minister in the name of Christ and officially authorized in the service of the Church also remains grounded in the prayer-dialogue. Ministry, not rooted in prayer, is no ministry at all. Good deeds done may represent admirable humanitarianism which we honor and appreciate, but we do not grace it with the identity of ministry. Min-istry flows from a consciousness of God and God's ways of acting and from a sense of responsibility in acting in the name of Christ's Body, the Church. The pervading consciousness of God and the connatural way of acting as God acts are the fruit of a prayer life, which is consistently fostered "for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health." This dialogue pei'meates and empowers our Christian life as well as our ministry whatever it may be. In this issue, we highlight two aspects of this continuing dialogue so necessary for our vocation and for ourmin!stry. The passion or fire in our Christian way of praying is reflected in the articles "The God of the Scriptures: An Invitation to Passionate Prayer" .by Anthony Wieczorek, O. Praem., "Romantic Relations with the Sacred" by Richard J. De- Maria, C.F.C., and "A Joyful Supp!ication for Justice" by A. Paul 641 642 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Dominic, S.J. The passion--meaning self-emptying and often a sense of dying--is also a part of our Christian experience of growth in prayer; the articles "Negative Floating" by Barbara Dent and "Spiritual Dryness: Some Practical Guidelines" by Eamon Tobin give some insight into these always difficult moments. Three articles, viewing various aspects of our religious life vocation, are written within the specific prayer context of our lives. "Religious Formation: A Contemplative Realignment" by Jane Ferdon, O.P., con-siders the formation task. "Discernment and Elections in Religious In-stitutes" by Marcello De Carvalho Azevedo, S.J., focuses the very spe-cial moments of leadership choice and policy-making in religious in-stitutes. Finally, "Rituals of Death, Denial, and Refounding" by Ger-ald A. Arbuckle, S.M., reflects on the importance of religious celebrat-ing in a truly Christian manner the dying and death moments in their con-gregational life if revitalization or refounding is to occur today. In the northern hemisphere, the summer months are coming, to an end, with the traditional vacation time behind us for another year. We move on to another "work" year and whatever our ministry may be. With the help of God's grace, .we find ourselves at an opportune time to assess again how our lives, our ministries, and our prayer truly form one healthy and supportive ecological system. May our various authors in this issue contribute to our insight and give us perspective in our quest. David L. Fleming, S.J. The God of the Scriptures: An Invitation to Passionate Prayer Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem. Father Anthony Wieczorek, O.Praem., is currently chaplain of the Sign of God Deaf Ministry office which serves the Deaf and Hearing Impaired community of the Green Bay diocese. He also directs the Theological Institute, a summer program at St. Norbert College in De Pere, Wisconsin. He continues to write a weekly article for the local diocesan newspaper. His address is St. Norbert Abbey; De Pere, Wiscon-sin 54115-2697. We all have them. Most of us have learned to control, even ignore them. But for some, they appear unasked for and when they do they are toler-ated with all the patience we have for a head cold. They are our emo-tions, our deep seated emotions, the dark and passionate side of our hu-man nature. We enjoy them when, at sports activities, we give ourselves permis-sion to act outraged or triumphant and they suit our moods. We like it when they sneak out quietly in the form of tears at the end of a touching movie. They may also try to make their presence known during prayer, but here they are often considered most distracting and least desired. And yet, if there is a time for emotion, if there is a time for passion at all, it is during prayer. Prayer is a naturally revealing activity. Ii is natural that passionate emotions should arise within us during.prayer. They are conduits to the parts of ourselves God wishes most to go. It is little wonder we should find them straining to emerge. Could it be that they are even called forth by a God eager to touch this part of ourselves so seldom shared? Unfortunately, they are the parts of ourselves we least of all like. Most often, they are corridors to the side of ourgelves we fear. They lead 643 60,4 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 into the cauldron of emotion we have not yet learned to control. We may not be really sure what lurks there but we are fairly confident that God has no part of it, that it is best shielded from God,-that what surges there is best atoned for in secret, not something to be proud of and shared openly with God. But are passionate emotions like anger and jealousy and lust called forth during times of prayer so that we can "confess" to them? Or are they summoned at God's own invitation? Can it be, might it be, that God can desire a passionate prayer as well and as much as a prayer that is con-templative, tranquil, and serene? Might it be that the God who appears ¯ throughout the pages of the Bible speaks to us best and can identify with us most through the part of ourselves we keep most hidden? The God of the Scriptures is indeed a passionate God. This article is an exploration of that theme and of the constructive relationship that exists between passion and prayer. The Passionate Nature of God Pascal was right when he said that there seemed to be two Gods: the God discussed by philosophers and the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God of the Scriptures. Most people prefer the philosophers' God. That Being is reasonable, controlled, logical. The God of the phi-losophers thinks, plans, orders, foresees. There is, of course, a "feel-ing" side to this God too. God does, after all, feel compassion and love for creation. But those "feelings" are held well in check and are dis-pensed cooly and properly. This God seems to resemble a fine Victorian gentleman/scholar. And, very often, especially here in the Western world, that is the image we would like to have of ourselves. That is the standard and goal we set for ourselves. The point is not that this image of God is false. But is it all there is? Is it only one side of a much more complex personality? Do we, with a too exclusively philosophical model of God, lose some of God's mys-tery because we fail to pay proper attention to God's emotion and pas-sionate nature? Perhaps such a theology is no more complete than an anthropology that deliberately ignores the emotional and passionate side of human be-ing? The point of human growth is to integrate and harmonize the parts of our nature i'nto one. To ignore our emotions is to ignore half of our selves. In addition to being rational, thinking creatures, human beings also love, feel anger, jealousy, crave revenge, desire, and feel pity. We are indeed complex beings. Can we dare imagine a God who is any less? Moreover, if we are so thoroughly emotional and if we were made in The God of the Scriptures / 6t15 God's own image and likeness, what can we conclude about God? Scripture tells us that "God is love." Love is, to be sure, more than an intellectual attitude or disposition toward life. Love is an emotion. Peo-ple in love are known sometimes to do strange things, spontaneous things, unpredictable things. Or so they seem to us. But to them, fol-lowing the "logic of love," their actions have a rationality, a purpose, an order. Finding it, though, and seeing the reasoning behind such ac-tions can be almost as hard as finding the sense and reason behind some of God's actions in our lives. God is not illogical nor is God emotion-ally unstable. God is simply love. God is simply in love with us "and with ¯ all of creation. God is a Being of great and passionate emotion. That, at least, is what the Scriptures tell us. Perhaps, to beg the question a bit, that is why God chose the Jews in the first place as recorders of divine revelation. The Jews, and all Near Eastern people for that matter, were extremely emotional and passionate people. Check the papers--they still are. But if you were God, would you have chosen them to write the record of your revelation? Many people would probably have preferred the Greeks. Their philo-sophical bent would more likely have appealed to us. And indeed, they would probably have done an admirable job at revealing God's mind. But could they have matched the Jewish brilliance for revealing God's heart? The Jewish passion for life was a most fitting medium for the man-ner of God's message. For the Scriptures reveal in emotional and pas-sionate imagery and terms the heart as well as the mind of God. Maybe, we argue, the Jewish people were simply transferring their own emotional nature onto God and that God no more has passionate feel-ings than God has legs withwhich to walk around in the garden of Eden. Yet, even though they were not meant to be read literally, all the images and words do reveal and communicate something about God. To glean this, though, the Scriptures must be read with an open mind and heart. God's Emotional Involvement in Life What do the Scriptures tell us about God? The Bible reveals a God who is very much alive and near. The biblical God does not observe the glories and follies of creation from afar. This is not a God who aloofly administri~tes creation and human history. Rather, this is a God who min-isters, to it and within it. The God of the Bible is pastorally involved in human life. We know that because the Scriptures reveal a God who is emotionally involved in human life. There are levels and degrees of involvement in community, in fam-ily, in politics, in everything regarding life. One criterion for measuring 646 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 or determining the depth of involvement is the amount of emotional in-vestment shown. In community living, for example, it is easy enough to state one's involvement in community affairs. One may even show up at community meetings and functions. But does that person's words and presence communicate an active involvement or a benign disinterest? Does body language alone, for instance, tell the others present that, "I am here to observe. Really, I couldn't care less what happens. It is some-what interesting, even humorous though. Just continue and pretend I'm not here." No words may communicate that. But the message is made, communicated through posture, through sleepy eyes and flacid facial e~- pression. On the other hand is the person very much involved in the pro-ceedings. Like the other, thi~ person says not a word. Yet through all the same means the message communicated is much different. This per-son exhibits interest through a tense body, through a face that while si-lent is red with anger or aglow with satisfaction. The eyes hold an inter-est, the palms sweat, a leg fidgets nervously. This person is truly and pastorally present and alive. Why? Because the person is visibly emo-tionally involved. And that is what we want from each other and from God. Similarly, why do we become upset with the "professional" pastor who runs the office well and administrates the parish efficiently but who cannot feel his people's pain, who cannot rejoice at someone's birth or mourn at another's death? Why do we feel cheated? Why does the per-son seem pastorally out of touch and somehow less a priest than the pas-tor who is able and willing to be emotionally present to the people? Why does the emotionally uninvested pastor seem to communicate less God's presence? Why do we feel disappointed? For what reason do we feel we should be able to expect and receive more? All of this speaks to an image or a set of expectations we have about God. Because God cares, God's ministers should also care. Because God is able to and does feel with the people, so should God's priests and pas-toral workers. We want and need to feel God present in our lives and feel cheated by those who serve in God's name if somehow we cannot sense from them a deeper presence of God than the merely physical. We want and feel a right to expect an emotional presence and involvement. We want our pastoral workers to be passionately present and active. We want and expect that because we feel God is passionately present and ac-tive. But why? Does that expectation and feeling originate within us alone? Or is that the image Of God that is mysteriously and boldly com- The God of the Scriptures /647 municated through almost every page of the Bible? Indeed, God is most emotionally present and involved in the lives of the Jewish people. That is true from exodus to exile, from restoration through resurrection. God communicates through the Scriptures a presence and involvement that is intensely passionate. The Passionate God of the Prophets Nowhere is this more evident than in the writings of the prophets. Within the prophetic books we see a picture of a God at wits' end. The people had rebelled from God's love and were running headlong toward destruction. We hear a response from God that is the emotional equal of what is politically, socially, and spiritually at stake. Read with the emotion befitting the texts Amos 8:4-8 or 4:!-3 or Hosea'l !:1-11 or Jeremiah 7:i-20 or Isaiah 54:78 or any of the other prophets, and you find the words of a person on the edge, the words of a person who is not at all detached or even mildly interested. In those words and so many others we receive a message of a God filled with pas-sion for the welfare of his people, a God who is truly emotionally in-volved in the life, past and future, of his people. If there is anger in God's words, it is the anger of a parent or lover, the passion of someone who cares tremendously about another. It is an anger born of frustration and love. Who has been in love without feel-ing anger? Love is a powerful emotion that opens us up to other equally powerful feelings. And what of the energy invested in both love and an-ger? Passion has a high price in emotional energy that is paid only by those truly sincere about what they feel. The quality and quantity of God's emotion so naked and strong throughout the prophets is testimony to the sincerity of God's passionate love. Moreover, it is a passion and sincerity that God expects in return. Love that is deep and intense expects a return in kind. One of our ways of showing love is through our prayer, both private and liturgical. Note, then, in Isaiah I:11-16 and Amos 5:21-25 and Jeremiah 7:21-28, the re-action of God to worship that is liturgically correct but void of sincerity and feeling. God expects a worship from the heart, a worship that is a reflection of our love. To be proper and true to the rubrics is not enough, not even the most important thing. What God seeks is what God gives, a prayer that is emotionally sincere. What God "hates" and "detests," what is "loathsome" to God is prayer empty of affect. That does not mean that worship must be a wild and ecstatic affair. However, it must be sincere; it must reveal an authentic human warmth. Worship, prayer, is more than so many words or lack of them. We can 648 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 meditate quite correctly and all without opening our hearts in love. A prayer that is emotionally fl~t.and cold is the sacrifice displeasing to God. Perhaps that is why Paul tells.us that because "we-do, not know how to pray as we ought, the Spirit makes intercession f~or us with groanings that cannot be-expressed in speech" (Rm 8:26). That is an invitation to pray our feelings, to pray from and with our emotions. That is what God asks for and longs to share, for it is that which is most truly in our hearts. The Spirit helps us to raise what we are feeling in prayer, even if it can be expressed in no other way than by a groan. Since we are to live as we pray, God expects from us a life that is emotionally honest and open. How often we repress our feelings and hold in check our passion. We refuse to allow ourselves to feel and that pre-vents us from being as effective and compassionate as Jesus was and calls us to be. The "cry of the poor" is too painful to hear so we learn to close to the poor not only our ears but also our hearts. We dull our abil-ity and willingness to feel and so lose a major motivating force behind Christian action. Pity is not the issue here, rather compassion and jus-tice. Perhaps it was because Jesus was a man of such strong emotions that he was as compassionate and sensitive as the Scriptures say. Yet not only did Jesus have strong feelings, he was willing to live with them and feel them. Because he did not repress what he felt but lived what he felt he could be moved enough to touch and heal the leper (Mk 1:41) and raise the widow's son (Lk 7:11-17). If Jesus was the troublemaker and law-breaker the Pharisees claimed, it was because he allowed his emotions to so move his charity and inspire his faith that he saw not simply the law but the people the law did not and could not serve. God's Call for a Passionate Faith Jesus' emotion is most manifest in his faith. Many people were raised to believe that faith is something we do with our minds, that faith is an intellectual act of agreement or obedience to a tradition or set of beliefs. While it may be that, it is not only that. This is clear from the way Jesus lived and how he believed. For Jesus, faith was an emotion that gripped not only his mind, but his heart and body as well. Oftentimes one emotion is held in check by another. A boy, for in-stance, may want to introduce himself to a girl. The "love" he feels for her is held in check, though, by his "fear" of being rejected. He de-cides to say nothing. Fear has overruled his young love. Similarly, a per-son may feel inclined to speak out on a justice issue. That person too feels fear. But this time the person's convictions on the matter, the per- The God of the Scriptures / 649 son's belief, is the stronger of the two and bids the person to speak out. Here faith overruled fear. All of us know what fear is, all of us have felt it. Reflect for a mo-ment what happens when you feel fear. The mind freezes, it becomes difficult or even impossible to think. The entire body is also affected. Knees shake, palms sweat, the mouth runs dry. If the fear is sharp enough we may even close our eyes and prefer to block out the cause of our fear. Fear, to be sure, is a powerful emotion. It would require, then, an equally powerful emotion to counter it. Only two emotions give us the courage to overcome fear: love and faith--although the two are intimately related. A mother stands terrified at the sight of her burning home when she hears the cry of her child from within. Her fear of the flames and smoke cause her to stand for a mo-ment paralyzed until love for her child overpowers the fear and forces her in to rescue him. Jeremiah the prophet stands equally terrified be-fore the people gathered at the Temple. He too, however, hears--or rather feels--an inner voice, the call of God bidding him to speak in God's name. For a moment his fear prevails before the faith within his heart overwhelms it and causes him to cry out. . How many of us have had our faith compromised by fear? By clos-ing ourselves to our feelings, by repressing our emotions, we have been eliminating a source of strength that could well empower our faith to ri-val that of tl~e prophets. If our faith is solely intellectual it is but half, at best, of what it could be. Faith is authentic when it flows from our hearts, when it flows from our love for God. Jeremiah, for example, and Jesus after him, may have seemed like people without faith because they spoke against the traditions and cus-toms of the people. They could rightly be asked, "Have you no faith, Jeremiah, in the Temple and the promise God made to dwell in it always? Why is it so hard for you to have faith in what our traditions teach.? Why can't you agree with them?" Faith in this sense is an act of the intellect. But for Jeremiah, for the other prophets, and for Jesus, faith was an act of love; its motive force was an intuition of God's abiding presence within. They felt God's love and returned it as they could (that is, they believed) and it was that faith in God's love that enabled them to stand up and say what their hearts could not deny. The love they felt empowered them, gave their faith the spirit of cour-age. All of us are given the gift of that love. All of us have within our-selves the courage to truly use our faith. But so often in closing ourselves to our emotions, in denying them, we deny ourselves the grace, the love, Review for Religious, September-October 1989 that gives us the courage to truly believe. Jesus and the prophets before him were not ashamed of their emotions. Indeed, they prayed with them (Jeremiah's lamentations, for example) by bringing them before God in-stead of hiding them in the dark recesses of their spirits. By so doing, they provide an example for all us of authentic living and prayer. Praying with our Emotions Oddly enough, it is the emotion of fear that most inhibits us from bringing our.other emotions to prayer. As mentioned earlier, prayer is a naturally revealing activity. In prayer, the love and union we share with God is revealed and made known to us. We may receive the revelation of truths and intuitions about questions and problems we may have, as well as insights into God and ourselves. It is this that often scares us into emotional and spiritual repression. In the quiet, centering communion of prayer with God, we forget to maintain many of the blocks and barriers we place between our conscious selves and our more disquieting emotions. Suddenly and quite unexpect-edly we can find the composure of our prayer compromised by unwel-comed feelings. The person whose thoughts continue to center upon feel-ings of passion for a lover, the religious whose heart is suddenly filled with anger and resentment toward a superior, the person who becomes aware of his or her jealousy and envy--all of these people find the re-warding calm of prayer ruined by the onslaught of emotions. In each of these cases, whether or not prayer has been ruined de-pends upon whose agenda is being followed. Prayer is a dialogue. How-ever, especially with meditation, prayer can become a monologue of si-lence. Our meditation can be but another way of saying, "Listen God, there are just some things I'd sooner not think about. Why don't we just sit here quietly and ignore them together." Our prayer agenda calls for some peace and quiet, a bit of reprieve, a break in the action of confron-tation. Yet we find ourselves continually pestered by thoughts and feel-ings we've decided not to share. Might it be, however, that their contin-ual interruption is an effort on God's part to make it part of our prayer? Might God have an agenda too? And might that agenda include the very feelings we are so desperate to ignore? It might do well, then, since prayer is a dialogue, to "ask" God about what should be shared. One way of doing so is by beginning our prayer with a bit of soul searching journaling. We might record what and how we are feeling, any significant encounters we have had with peo-ple, good and bad. The point is not to dwell on any of them. Rather we acknowledge what is already inside of us. We acknowledge it to God and The God of the Scriptures / 651 to ourselves. Then, having done that, we set it aside and open ourselves to God. Yet, the very action of having been honest with ourselves about what we arefeeling has already opened the doors to our deepest selves to God. We have laid everything bare and have effectively told God, "Well, now that you know, what do you say?" Then if our prayer is quiet, perhaps God is saying, "Let it rest for now," and so we should. If, however, we find the emotions returning, perhaps we should pay them some prayerful attention. It is one matter to continually harp on a feeling and another tO at-tend to one that finds its way to the surface. Yet it is here that fear can overcome all else and totally inhibit our communion with God, not to mention any communion with ourselves. We are afraid of what may come if we allow our emotions to flow. We are afraid of what God may think if we stood before God with emotions bare. Perhaps most of all, we are afraid of what we would have to admit about ourselves if we al-lowed our spiritual vision to focus upon our feelings. Especially in times of stress, when we need prayer most, we are most reluctant, most afraid to pray because the emotions we so fear are so close to surface, so hard to dispel. In such cases the fear and shame we so strongly feel should be the opening movement of our prayer. But here is the test. Have we the faith to share what we fear? Here we become the shy person struggling to talk to a friend. Here we become the mother rooted in fear or stirred by love into action. Here we find the revelation, not of God but of ourselves, that prayer so powerfully conveys. Here we find a truth about ourselves. Prayer is a dialogue. Has God been speaking, shouting through hands pressed tight against our ears, trying to get through? Summary We can repress our prayer and weaken our faith because we are un-willing to face the passion of our own emotions. Why? Is it God's rejec-tion or wrath that we fear or is it facing the truth about ourselves? Some people are simply ashamed that they are emotional people at all. Some-where many of us have learned that we should be rational at the expense of being emotional. Emotions are something to master, signs of weak-ness, occasions for sin. To be holy is to be emotionally controlled. Pei-haps. To be sure, some emotions need to be held in check. Some need to be confessed. But not all. Our emotions are occasions for grace, provided we let our God work through them. They can be conduits leading to deeper prayer. They can be the means for facing and overcoming our fear of living. For indeed, 652 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 without emotions we are less than human. We were made in the image and likeness of a living, feeling God who is revealed in the pages of Scrip-ture as a truly passionate lover, a God who, for example, is quite honest about being "jealous." We were made to have feelings and to use our emotions to feel and act alive. If Jesus was not ashamed of the force of his emotions, why should we? As Christians we are called to become fully alive. That means learn-ing to live with and harness our emotions. Truly, our emotions are gifts from God, gifts to be enjoyed, gifts for which we can be grateful. But before any of that can happen, our emotions must first be accepted. The Dancer Is falling in love with you autumn leaves swirling in the wind, fish swimming in the flooded ,,;hallows after a heavy rainfall? Is this love a meditative symphony, where the listener is impelled to pause, be attentive to the secret voice talking with his heart? Is this love a walk without fear into the forest of Solitude, where I go to plant my tree of hope? Is this love an ancient la Jota, sometimes graceful and slow, at other moments fast and exciting? How do I overcome my reluctance? Become like David, who danced before the Lord because it was pleasing to him? Brother Richard Heatley, F.S.C. De La Salle Centre 45 Oaklands Avenue Toronoto, Ontario M4V 2E4, Canada Romantic Relations with the Sacred Richard J. DeMaria, C.F.C. Brother Richard DeMaria, C.F.C., currently serves as Executive Vice President and the Vice President for Academic Affairs at lona College. His address is lona Col-lege; New Rochelle, New York 10801. In the recent, surprisingly successful film, Th~rOse, based on the life of St. Th6r~se of Lisieux, there is a scene that has remained with me for months. Th6r~se's sister visits her during what was to be a terminal ill-ness, and noticing that Th6r~se has pinned a small crucifix to her pil-low, observes: "So you two are back together again." To which, as I recall it, Th6r~se blushes and nods in agreement. The audience--a New York City audience--to my amazement did not laugh here or at any time during a movie which portrayed Th6r~se as a woman engaged in a ro-mantic relationship with Jesus, a relationship characterized by falling outs, jealousies, reunions, disagreements, and coquetry. And by love. And by passion. The film places Th6r~se in a very old tradition of spirituality, a tra-dition which uses the language and ways of romantic love to describe a person's interaction with the sacred. The romantic poem "The Song of Songs" comes immediately to mind: the longing of a bride for her bride-groom is used as an image of the human experience with the sacred. Ap-parently that image was found sufficiently apt among the Hebrew peo-ple for the poem to be included and preserved in its canon of sacred litera-ture. We find in other religions similar spiritualities linking sexual im-agery and prayer, the link sometimes explicitly recognized and cele-brated, at other times, we assume, camouflaged and unrecognized but fairly apparent to those who read between lines. As R. Zaehner, the Oxford authority on mysticism, observes: 653 654 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 There is no point at all blinking at the fact that the raptures of the theis-tic mystic are closely akin to the transports of sexual union, the soul play-ing the part of the female and (~od appearing as the male. ~ In the history of religion, one finds many spiritualities that approach life as if there were two lovers involved. In Hinduism, one finds among the different paths by which one can yoke himself or herself to God, the path of bhakti in which one takes on the Lord as lover. Kabir, the fif-teenth- century Indian mystic, as translated by Bly, uses the term "the Guest" to name the inner lover: My body and my mind are in depression because you are not with me. How much I love you and want you in. my house! When 1 hear people describe me as your bride I look sideways ashamed, Because I know that far inside us we have never met. Then what is this love of mine? I don't really care about food, I don't really care about sleep, I am restless indoors and outdoors. The bride wants her lover as much as a thirsty man wants water. And how will I find someone who will take a message to the Guest from me? How restless Kabir is all the time! How much he wants to see the Guest!z The existence of a relationship between mysticism and sexuality is clear and widespread in the historical record. The question is: how shall we interpret and understand the presence of romaritic and sexual lan-guage in religious writing? More to the point are the following questions: Is it possible to carry on a love relationship with an invisible, non-human lover? Does this spirituality find any basis in the way things are? Is there someone there to love? Is this use of romantic language healthy? Unless we at least advert to these questions from the outset, they stand as obstacles to our ability to approach this tradition with openness. There are many analysts who interpret experiences of romantic spiri-tuality as situations in which sexual energy, having been denied its usual outlet, finds a (distorted) outlet in the religious arena. Accordingly, mys-ticism is in reality sexual energy that is misdirected. Although this sub-limation is usually unrecognized by the person involved, its true nature can be readily recognized by the perceptive observer. In sum, people in-volved in religious romanticism are victims of misplaced energy; their lives are based upon an unreal perception of the way things are. Other analysts suggest that the situation is quite the opposite: a ba-sic drive, a basic need within humans, is for union with the transcendent. Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 655 According to this theory, the mystic is a person who is responding quite directly to this basic drive. Other humans respond to this drive by en-gaging themselves in sexual, romantic relationships with other humans. This is a valid way of fulfilling this need. The power of human, inter-personal sexuality, and the way that relationship is experienced and de-scribed, derive from the more basic desire of the human to interact with the sacred. Because the inter-human sexual experience is one form of the more general mystical experience, it should not surprise us that the lan-guage of human love and the language of mystical 10ve are quite simi-lar. Alan W. Watts, in Myth and Ritual in Christianity makes the fol-lowing observation: But a sexually self-conscious culture such as our own must beware of its natural tendency to see religion as a symbolizing of sex, for to sexu-ally uncomplicated people it has always been obvious that sex is a sym-bol of religion. That is to say, the ecstatic self-abandonment of nuptial love is the average man's nearest approach to the selfless state of mys-tical and metaphysical experience. For this reason the act of love is the easiest and most readily intelligible illustration of what it is like to be in "union with God," to live the eternal life, free from self and time.3 Perhaps it will never be possible to prove convincingly which of these two theories is true. Some look to an epistemology which concen-trates its attention not on questions about the way things are but rather on questions about what ways work. Such an approach considers a the-ory to be true, or a path to be true, when it works. Pragmatic approaches to understanding our lives can reflect a careless and shallow attitude about truth, but not necessarily so. The form of pragmatism discussed here, recognizing the complexity of the human psyche and the mystery of the sacred, and recognizing the inability of the human mind to under-stand these with any clarity, reasons that if a particular construct or the-ory works, it works because it approximates the way things are. This is an epistemology often used in the physical sciences. Consider, for ex-ample, the solar system model of the atom. No one has seen an atom. Serious scientists do not think that the atom is composed of electrons, circling a nucleus of neutrons and protons, like a solar system. Scien-tists, however, have used the construct of a solar system when thinking about the atom, because when they have followed out the implications of that model, they have been able to explain many past experiences (ex-periments). And, even more importantly, when they devised new experi-ments and applications suggested by the model, these led to important new discoveries. Science has done well, then, to think of the atom as if 656 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 it were a solar system. Even if the atom is not a solar system, the solar system picture predicts how the atom will work. And it is not unreason-able to conclude from this that in many ways the solar system model ap-proximates the reality of the atom. In sum, while recognizing that a con-struct is an imagined picture, a person follows it because she believes that it will lead her close to the way things are. Against the background of this epistemology, we can now turn our attention to those paths in which a person is involved in a relationship with a person who is not physically present but who is perceived to be real, important, and worthy of ~ittention; a relationship which according to the person herself and according to observers, gives direction and strength. Whether the other is perceived as guru, teacher, patron, guide, angel, patron saint, or--as in the particular spirituality we are discuss-ing-- as the romantically loved one, the relationship has a real effect upon the growth and behavior of the participant. In his play Big Shot, Jack Gelber portrays the positive, powerful influence which two "imagi-nary" persons--a wise, aged prophetic man, and a seductive woman-- have upon a young man's ability to make decisions about his life and to move toward maturity. (Interestingly, these two visitors never appear to-gether in the boy's thoughts; the appearance of one signals the exit of the other. At the play's end, however, they interact with one another and exit together, perhaps symbolizing something of an integration of the re-ligious and the sexual in his consciousness.) According to what was said above, one should evaluate the tradition of romantic spirituality by asking: What happens to persons when they act as if there were an inner sacred person there? Does it lead to desir-able ends? In this approach one judges a religious path worth consider-ing if it has "worked" for many people, in many religions, in many dif-ferent ages. What is meant by "worked"? The validity of this or any path is established by its ability to lead practitioners into that special con-sciousness which is called "religious." In the Christian faith, people in that consciousness are said to be in the state of sanctifying grace and ex-hibit characteristics such as love, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Ga 5:22). History attests that the path of devotion, of romantic love, is a path that has led many to that consciousness; the way works. The seeker of God who utilizes the con-struct of romantic love does not need to know for certain whether there is a real person with whom she can interact in love. She does know that when she acts as if there were such a person, wonderful things do hap-pen. In Bhakti Yoga, the author writes: Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 657 All our attitudes, moral or emotional, as well as religious are due to the objects of our consciousness: the things which we believe to exist whether really or ideally along with ourselves. Such objects may be pre-sent to our senses or they may be present to our thought; in either case they elicit from us a reaction and the reaction due to things of thought is notoriously in many cases as strong as that due to sensible presences. It may even be stronger . 4 How does one follow this path? By undertaking the same practices which a man or woman utilizes in establishing a love relationship with a human being. By conversing. By sharing feelings. By trying to please. By actions of union. By admiration. By efforts to merge into one an-other. By writing poems of love. By singing songs of love. By making sacrifices. By exchanging gifts. By establishing rituals, special places, and special times. By secrets shared. By anger expressed. And by hurts told. By arguing. By compromising. How does one advise or counsel a person on this path? As one would advise or counsel a person struggling with any experience of love. The spiritual director will help him to recognize the stages of love. The di-rector will lead her to expect periods of doubt, of loneliness, of seeming neglect, of loss of attraction--the dark nights of the soul. He must be assisted in learning the art of conversation, and especially the art of lis-tening. (For let there be no doubt about it: the person does experience conversation, responses and answers that surprise by their unexpected-ness. Where do these answers come from? Suffice it to say that when questions are asked of this inner lover, this inner guest,' one "hears" answers.) The director will need to counsel the practitioner about the im-portance of fidelity, to help recall the good times in moments of dark-ness, and to point her to better times ahead. The person engaged in this path does experience another actor in his life. Outside observers may wish to interpret this experience as the ef-fects of the "alter ego," or the "subconscious," or the "repressed self." These interpretations should not be allowed to discourage the lover, if forhim the experience of this other is real, and if the effects of carrying out a relationship of love with that "person" are beneficial and if they are leading her into grace. This path does not work for everyone. In New Wineskins,5 Sandra Schneiders observes that in earlier times it was assumed that all women entering into the religious life would find in this romantic spirituality a comfortable and effective path. Women religious, on their day of pro-fession, came to the altar dressed as brides, as the choir sang "Veni Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Sponsa Christi," in a ceremony that was designed to imitate in many ways that of a marriage. Schneiders suggests that in fact many Sisters did not find this path to be effective for them. For many, it was a kind of play.acting, which in later years---especially if they were influenced by Freudian thinking--they came to regard as a childish effort to subli-mate energies better redirected in other ways. Today, almost all traces of this bridal spirituality have been removed from the rituals and from the language of contemporary religious women. Women who have en-tered religious life in recent years may not even be aware of this spiritu-ality. By way of conclusion, two questions about this path of spirituality suggest themselves. First, in this relationship, does the soul always take the role of the feminine to the masculine God, a role in which the hu-man seeks to be filled, empowered, or taken over by the other? The male poet, Kabir, cited before, who wrote in a culture which knew of both male and female gods, always--at least in translation--describes him-self as feminine in relationship to the sacred. Listen to the following poem: I played for ten years with the girls of my own age, but now I am sud-denly in fehr. I am on the way up some stairs--they are high. Yet I have to give up my fears if I want to take part in this love. I have to let go of the protective clothes and meet him with the whole length of my body. My eyes will have to be the love candles this time. Kabir says: Men and women in love will understand this poem. If what you feel for the holy one is not desire, then what's the use of dressing with such care, and spending so much time making your eyelids dark.6 Can one approach the sacred as masculine? Or must one utilize the feminine side (the anima) in one's relationship with the sacred (assum-ing of course that every person, regardless of gender, is both animus and anima)? And if this is true, will this path of spirituality come more natu-rally to women than to men? Or, again if it is true, would the fact that a person has a gay or lesbian orientation affect the attractiveness and ef-fectiveness of this spirituality? A second questign.: what (if any) is the connection between this spousal spirituality and celibacy? Clearly, spousal spirituality does ap-peal and does work for non-celibates as well as celibates. Does celibacy enable one to pursue this path more quickly or more deeply? Does the fact that one is not pursuing the path of romantic human love dispose one Romantic Relations with the Sacred / 659 toward this path more urgently? Or, to take the quite opposite position, would familiarity and experience with human romantic love give one the lexicon and the understandings that enable one to move more quickly into this more interior love? To conclude: the spiritual path of romantic relationships with the sa-cred has been neglected in recent years, perhaps because twentieth-century psychology has called into question so many of the foundations upon which it was based. There is, however, a way of understanding our ways of knowing, consonant with contemporary science, which gives 'permission' to those so attracted to follow this path, to see whether it leads them into grace. While the path will not attract, nor work for, eve-ryone, a knowledge of its history and dynamics should be made avail-able to those who are searching for ways into the world of the sacred. NOTES ~ R.C. Zaehner, Mysticism, Sacred and Profane, (New York, 1961), p. 151. 2 Robert Bly, trans., The Kabir Book, (Boston, 1977), p. 20. 3 Alan W. Watts, Myth and Ritual in Christianity, (Boston, 1968), p. 104. 4 "Bhikshu," Bhakti Yoga, (Chicago, 1930), p. 19. 5 Sandra Schneiders, New Wineskins, Re-imagining Religious Life Today, (New York, !986), p. 116. 6 Bly, p. 42. Negative Floating Barbara Dent Barbara Dent, mother and grandmother, has been for eigthteen years a Secular Carme-lite. She published "The Floating Prayer" in our issue of March/April 1988. The current article is a part of a book-in-process called Floating in Endless Love. She may be addressed at Poustinia; 7A Cromwell Place; Pukekohe, New Zealand. In this article I use the word "floating" to indicate the kind of detach-ment and freedom that is attained once we have ascended a certain dis-tance up the nada path. When I write of "floating in endless love," 1 mean the traditional self-abandonment to divine providence as exemplified by holy people of any age, and written about by such recognized saints as Teresa, John of the Cross, Francis de Sales, Jane Frances de Chantal, Caussade, Th~r~se. Our Lady is, of course, the supreme exemplar, and her "Be it done unto me according to your word," a succinct summary of the doc-trine. Divine providence is God's endless love. It had no beginning and will never have an end. It is conterminous with his Being and expresses itself throughout his creation. When he made us in his own image, he gave us the ability to be ef-fortlessly immersed in this love, borne along in the currents and eddies of its movement in time and space, as it ordained and controlled the cir-cumstances of our lives, and we rejoiced in its faultless wisdom and ten-derness. At that beginning-time we had our Creator's discerning Spirit within us, and joyfully cooperated with the process of floating in the divine will, for through it the perfection of his love for us expressed itself, and we were fully open and receptive to it. We were in the state of innocence, which means single-mindedness and wholeness of heart. 660 Negative Floating / 66"1 Then came the "aboriginal catastrophe"--in one, or many, of a num-ber of possible forms. Its basic effect was to confuse, divide, and mis-lead us about the nature of our relationship with our Master. We were, and are, no longer in that original state of love-union's positive, effort-less floating. Instead, we are too often thrashing about in protest at being in the water at all. We persist in struggling to reach some imaginary shore, strik-ing out against the current, gulping water, feeling terrified that we are drowning, pushing away Love's hand held out to draw us to safety, and generally being at odds with our spiritual environment. Our innocence lost, we have become acquainted with sin--actual or potential, deliberate or involuntary. Floating in endless love does not any longer seem to be the obvious, healthy, joyous thing for us to do. We have lost the art, and have to be taught all over again by grace. And because we no longer learn the mys-teries of God effortlessly through direct infusion, the Spirit's modes of teaching us often register on us as nay-saying, destructive, painful, and incomprehensible. This is because God's endless love flowing into us is constantly encountering obstacles of self-love and self-will within us. These cause the flow to be interrupted, dammed up, diverted, and im-peded in numberless ways. We now have to re-learn what we were fashioned to know without even thinking about it. This learning is painful and arduous, and regis-ters on us as a state of negative floating. It entails erasure of all those obstacles against floating--whether personally manufactured, handed on to us by our families and social milieu, or inherited and buried so deeply in our mysterious inner being that we shall never even catch sight of them, let alone drag them up and free ourselves from them, unless the Spirit helps us in a very special way. We are weighted down so that we are more likely to sink to the ocean bed than to float in delight in the surface currents of God's purpose, rev-elling in their effortless, exact progress towards our ultimate fulfillment in him. Positive and negative floating are part of the normal cycle of conso-lation and desolation in the spiritual life. If we persevere in floating in God's loving purpose for us, there comes a time when, just as his crea- ¯ tive energy evolved birds out of fish, he somehow dispenses altogether with the metaphorical liquid element in order to lift us up so high in the Spirit that we are suspended in midair. We usually think of such suspension as bodily levitation and miracu- 662 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 IOUS. But the essence of free-floating in the atmosphere, metaphorically speaking, is entirely spiritual and interior, a flight of the spirit that usu-ally has no physical, exterior signs at all. It is the result of an opening up to God's love that on our part includes the complete abandonment of our whole selves to his usage, and on his part such lavish infusion of his grace that its energy elevates us temporarily into his own Being. This is the ultimate in positive floating. It mysteriously and paradoxi-cally also includes the ultimate in negative floating, for in order to give ourselves up to it, we need to have renounced all the not-God elements so that there is now nothing at all in us or our lives opposing his desire to take full possession of us. God is non-corporeal. When this moment of total possession takes place, he draws up our non-corporeal spirit to merge with his own. This merging, can be accomplished in both, or either, of the positive and nega-tive floating states. After about six months of intensely positive floating immediately af-ter my reception into the Church in 1956, I was gradually translated into the negative floating state and remained there without any remission for nearly twelve years. During my conversion year, 1955, I had already learnt to enter Christ's passion with him by uniting my personal suffering with his in Gethsemane and throughout the various aspects of his passion, especially his cross-carrying and crucifixion. At one particular time in 1958 when I vividly experienced what I came to call the crucifixion of my heart, something extra happened within me that I could at the time define only as "entombment." Yet the crucifixion did not cease. I was somehow still on the cross with Christ even while I was lying dead with him in the cave tomb's cold darkness. I cannot explain how this was. I only know it happened, and was spiritually and interiorily real in an agonizing way. I think I was able to endure these years of intensely negative float-ing only because, during most of them, I was fully occupied being a daily Mass-goer, solo mother, housekeeper, teacher, breadwinner, writer, and student. There was not much opportunity for what my mother disparag-ingly used to call "navel-gazing"--adding, in exasperation, "Why don't you go out and have a good game of tennis!" In spite of immersion in an undoubtedly and unavoidably active life (my form of a good game of tennis!), I yet received insights from time to time that infused some sense into the non-sense of my relationship Negative Floating / 663 with God. For this was where the nonsense, the absurdity, occurred. My rela-tionship with Jesus in his incarnational work of suffering redeemer and crucified Lord made very good sense to me, and gave me the courage to go on enduring. It was from God and his ways that the conundrum originated. Once more he had become for me the "cruel, sadistic mon-ster" who, during the early war years, had caused my rejection of my personal and inadequate version of the Christian religion. One of the key insights I received in the earlier of these negative float-ing years of the 1960s came about as follows. I can visualize clearly where it happened, just as I can vividly recall .where other significant, instant comprehensions occurred, for example, those about "the abyss of corruption" and the self-love involved in my mechanism of setting out to "fascinate" certain people. Such instant dis-cernments come to me like a crystal globe enclosing the truth, and put whole and clear in my mind all at once. The experience is completely different from arriving at a similar conclusion by the laborious process - of ratiocination. It is a matier of immediate comprehension received as a whole and in passivity. In fact, in a floating state, as it were. On this particular occasion I was sitting one morning at the desk in the home of my eldest daughter and her husband, alone in the house ex-cept for a sleeping child. Then in one instant the insight came whole-- just like a very bright light being turned on in my mind, then extin-guished almost immediately, yet leaving behind it the vivid impression of a particular mystery made plain in its illumination. In this case, I "understood" what caused Jesus to cry out, "My God, my God, why have you rejected me?" Just as I had become one with him in other aspects of his passion at various times, now I had become one with him in his cry of derelic-tion. His cry was one with the cry of my own heart to an alien, absentee God, whose face was turned away from me in contempt. Jesus' despair-ing question was to do with his having consented to be "made sin" for us. This was the central point-of the illumination given me. I had bought my Knox bible in 1956 and used it until I obtained the Jerusalem version in 1969. The texts I have marked in the Knox were the ones that had very special meaning for me personally during these darkest years of the cry of dereliction. I have underlined, "Christ never knew sin, and God made him into sin for us, so that in him we might be turned into the holiness of God" (2 Co 5:21). I "saw" that sin was absolutely abhorrent to and automatically re- 664 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 pudiated by God because it was the antithesis of his own unblemished holiness and purity. "God was in Christ, reconciling the world to him-self, establishing in our hearts his message of reconciliation, instead of holding men to account for their sins" (2 Co 5: 19), and "In Christ the whole plenitude of Deity is embodied." Hanging on the cross, dying for us, "made sin," Jesus, though God himself, consented to be relegated in his manhood to the furthest possi-ble distance from God--as f~ir as pure sin must be, of its nature, dis-tanced from pure holiness. It must have been the most elemental, cata-clysmic, schizoid split of all time. In and through this alienation Jesus endured, "the world"--all of us sinners of all time--could be "reconciled" to God instead of being eternally severed from him in self-induced banishment. In effect, Jesus willed to go through the experience of damnation as our proxy, as vic-tim instead of us. This meant knowing God only through the aching void of his ab-sence; submitting to the punitive action of the total recoil of pure holi-ness from pure unholiness; being invaded by a sense of rejection so ab-solute as to know what the hell-state meant, and to be engulfed in it. There is impenetrable mystery here, a paradox so extreme that the human mind cannot encompass it. How could Christ, in whom "the whole plenitude of Deity" remained unimpaired, yet experience himself as "the totality of sin" rejected by that Deity? The how, the mystery, is beyond our human comprehension. The paradox is mind-blowing. I cannot explain fully what I "saw" in the illumination. At the time, I knew it without intellectual explication. This came later, as I meditated upon what I had received, and thought more about what Paul said, out of what was obviously his own personal experience and given insight. Enli/~htenments about this mystery hidden within Christ's dereliction cry have continued to come spasmodically to me up to this present time. "All alike have sinned, all alike are unworthy of God's praise. And justification comes to us as a free gift from his grace, through our re-demption in Christ Jesus. God has offered him to us as a means of rec-onciliation, in virtue of faith, ransoming us with his blood" (Rm 3:23- 25). I had already understood how the solidarity of the human race was such that the salvation or damnation of any one of us must involve and concern all of us. In pouring out in his shed blood his "free gift of grace" for us, Jesus excluded no one, for none of us is sinless. We are all inevitably born programmed for possible disaster by the racial accu- Negative Floating mulation of wrong turnings made while trying to reach a destination whose nature and location we are confused about. Our tendency to get lost is in our genes. ~ "In sin my mother conceived me," is not a reference to the sexual act as such, but to the fact that the whole of humanity is in a state of at least partial alienation from God and can be reconciled only through Christ. Jesus entered the furthest reaches of this alienation when, as the vic-tim for our sins, he uttered his cry of dereliction on the cross. I saw in my moment of illumination that, once I had in 1957 told God he could have me as a victim for the salvation of souls (if he wanted me), I had implicitly consented to enter in some way into this dereliction of Jesus, and keep him company. At the same time, I was not certain God had accepted my offer, for no one had yet confirmed that I was indeed a victim, and I was not to have that assurance for several years yet. It was only then that everything fitted together coherently. But I did see in that moment of revelation that here was the meaning and purpose of the annihilating experience of my-self as spurned and rejected by God, even while at the same time, in my will, I refused to let go of him, and clung on with all my strength. Much later, I realized that even while God "rejected" me, he gave me that very grace I needed to cling tenaciously to him. At the same time, the illumination did not bring me any comforting reassurance, for I could not really believe it applied to me. This may seem a contradiction, but the grace of comfort is an extra grace, and for those years of torment God chose to withhold it from me, no matter what insights he gave my intellect. That I already had a well-established, deep-seated rejection syn-drome as part of my emotional makeup made it simpler and easier for all of this to happen. Grace had only to activate and utilize what was al-ready there, so deeply rooted in my inner being. I believe that God did this in order to use me for others as I had pleaded with him to do. In the terms I have since evolved for myself, I was "floating". in the negative way with Jesus on the cross, as part of "the Dali image." I was there tb help my neighbor, any neighbor--it was for God to choose whom, I never asked to be shown who, how, or where. "Enemies of God, we were reconciled to him through his Son's death; reconciled to him, we are surer than ever of finding salvation in his Son's life. And, what is more, we can boast of God's protection; al-ways through our Lord Jesus Christ, since it is through him that we have 666 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 attained our reconciliation"(Rm 5:10-1 I). "We who were taken up into Christ by baptism have been taken up, all of us, into his death . We have to be closely fitted into the pat-tern of his resurrection, as we have been into the pattern of his death" (Rm 6:3, 5). Sin and salvation, death and life, crucifixion and resurrection, Jesus and all of us--inseparable. It is all mingled together like the confluence of two mighty rivers flowing as one towards the ocean of eternity and infinity. We have to "share his sufferings if we are to share his glory" (Rm 8:17). Some refuse the suffering and do not believe in the glory. Proxies must, in their stead, agree to be immersed in the passion with Jesus, so that the glory will permeate them, too. He came to save all. His will to redeem the whole of humanity can-not and will not be thwarted, but we are all one with him, and so those who are willing must help him save those who are unwilling. He expects and requires this of his lovers, though not necessarily as explicit victims, for this must be a given vocation. "For thy sake, we face death at every moment, reckoned no better than sheep marked down for slaughter. Yet in all this we are conquer-ors, through him who has granted us his love" (Rm 8:36-37). In the "inscrutable judgments" and "undiscoverable ways" of God is hidden the mystery of the redemption of the human race, in which all participate, consciously or unconsciously. The willing "offer up their bodies as a living sacrifice" because "though we are many in number" (trillions and trillions of us back to the beginning and on to the end of time), we yet "form one body in Christ and each acts as the counter-part of the other" (see Rm 12). Paul insists we are "Christ's body, organs of it depending upon each other" (1 Co 12:27), and therefore "the sufferings of Christ overflow into our lives"--together with divine comfort (2 Co 1:5). For Paul, shar-ing in the sufferings of Christ in order to bring forth spiritual children for him, is a fundamental Christian vocation. He writes, "It makes me happy to suffer for you, as I am sufferi.ng now, and in my own body to do what I can to make up all that has still to be undergone by Christ for the sake of his body, the Church. I became the servant of the Church" (Col 1:24-25). All these teachings of St. Paul, marked in my Knox bible, had had dynamic personal meaning for me ever since 1956, the year of my re-ception into the Church. They had been fortified and elucidated by stud-ies of such theological works as The Whole Christ by E. Mersch, S.J. Negative Floating / 66"/ (Dobson, London, 1956). They were in the very fiber of my interior life, yet, though I knew, believed, and lived what Jesus exemplified and Paul taught and lived, no felt comfort and consolation resulted. I was given strength to endure (while experiencing myself as weak and destitute) and that was all. But to endure and to persevere is at the very basis of the nada path journey, and the grace given me to do this was among the supreme ones of my life. Father Basil had now become my director, though, as he had been transferred, we seldom had the chance to meet. What he wrote to me in a letter of July, 1963, is relevant to the above. I quote: God does love you very dearly. Think of the tremendous graces that you have received from him. Your desire to give him everything in return is all that matters. You give, generously, only to the One whom you love . I am not so much concerned about the aridity and difficulty that you are experiencing at your prayers and the seeming loss of God. What I am concerned about is your loss of peace and near panic, because of the difficulties. The temptation to discouragement is one of the most insidious and dangerous for an interior soul. If you are patient and do not allow this temptation to dictate any change in your program of the day, you have nothing to fear. In his own good time he will give you the light and the warmth that seem to have disappeared. There is noth-ing in your day that is not worthy of being offered to him. This means that you are every hour united more intimately with him. You are grow-ing in charity and all the virtues, without being conscious of the growth. The increase in charity is all that matters. His reassurance was a blessing, calming me until the next spasm of self-doubt and apparent rejection by God afflicted me. Then I would re-read what he said, and be comforted again. In a queer way it was as if God himself was telling me, "Don't worry. Everything's all right-- even though it seems to be all wrong." Again he was loving me through "a soul in which he had established himself," just as he had promised as I lay so ill and weak in the hospital. One or two entries in my journals record various aspects of my nega-tive floating at this time. In the following, I think my way through to a grace-enlightened conclusion in faith, hope, and trust. It was not given to me in~stantaneously as a crystal globe. I quote from a 1963 rare entry: It is the risen Lord who permeates the whole of creation. 1 have been experiencing the suffering Christ. The climax came in the crucifixion of my heart. Then entombment and silence. Only the dead Christ there, un- 668 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 stirring~ and myself numb and seemingly dead with him year after year, waiting and praying and longing for the resurrection. Now I see the the Lord is risen. He fills my soul and the whole of his Mystical Body. He has risen as he said he would, even while I mourned him dead in me, and I dead with him. He is risen. How can this become more real to me, so that I too rise with him? Let me think . It is the risen Lord who permeates the whole of creation. Therefore he is not dead in me~ for his resurrection truly hap-pened. But something did die in me and was entombed. What was it? The overwhelming sense of entombment. Christ dead and in the tomb. And it was a significant turning point. What died? My attachment to and need of natural love? But the process of purgation through hu-man relationships still continues. Yet it is different. How? What died and was buried? "You have undergone death, and your life is buried and hidden away with Christ." I made a heartbreaking renunciation of my own free will, and I gave up--what? What died? My heart died. Yet I found other loves. "Christ, having undergone death, cannot die any more . He is not here; he has risen as he told you . We have to be closely fitted into the pattern of his resurrection, as we have been into the pattern of his death . We'know that Christ, now he has risen from the dead, cannot die any more. Death has no more power over him . " It was not Christ who died in me, for he cannot die any more. It was something in myself that died. And all the while I have been entombed, he has been living in my soul the life of the risen Lord. His resurrection is continuous just as much as his passion is. Somehow I have to become united with this.risen Christ. Like La-zarus called forth from the tomb, I have to shed my grave clothes and answer the call of the Lord, but "how? How? I don't know how. He has to say, "Come forth," and then I shall be able to move. Yet he eternally says, "Come forth," inviting me to share his life of glory in the Trinity, the life he is already living in my soul all the time I am in a state of grace. Only somehow I cannot unite myself with it, because the tomb wall seems in the way. What is the tomb wall? My compulsion to suffer psychologically in a certain way? Perhaps. Lord, give me light. Holy Spirit, whom he sends, lead me forth. Pray in and for me. I have been in a state of inertia, feeling I could do nothing till Christ rose in me--but he has never been dead in me. It was a part of myself that died, not he. All the time he has been waiting for me to come to him. Perhaps he has already said, "Come forth," only I have been so busy with my self-inflicted mourning, that l haven't heard him. My anguish was the death of some form of self-love, the crucifix- Negative Floating / 669 ion of some kind of seif-will, some aspect of the "world" that I clung to. "The people that lived in darkness have seen a great light . And he shall reign forever and ever . Come and bring forth from the dungeon the prisoner sitting in darkness and the shadow of death . " The shadow of my death. Just one of the excruciatihg deaths one must die before one can mount to a higher level on the nada path. Death and renewal. Part of his passion, but the passion is always inseparable from the resurrection, and the resurrection is. I don't have to wait for it--it is. 1 am already in it by the power of g~:ace and the presence of God in my soul. How then do I.realize and live consciously this risen life? That is the question. The "how" was to remain unrealized by me for some years yet. In the meantime I had to live in pure faith the reality of the crucified, en-tombed, but already risen Lord in me and in the whole of creation. 1 had to stay on the cross and in the tomb till God himself chose the time and way for my personal resurrection. I could not raise up myself. It had to be a work of pure grace. The words I use in another brief entry near the end of 1964 all re-veal a state of unalleviated negative floating. They are: Emptiness. Noth-ing. Waiting. Search. No finding. Grief. No.comfort. Dryness. Frigid-i'ty. Impotence. Waiting. Alone. Loneliness. Wa, iting--on and on. Dead-ness. ~umbness. Insensibility. No tears . . . too dry . . . But I believe. I hope. I suffer. I love. I wait. He loves. 1 know he loves. I believe he loves. Amen. In her Life Teresa of Avila tells of a spiritual state that reminds me of what I call "negative floating." First she mentions how St. Paul wrote about "being crucified to the world." Then she comments on how this reminds her of the soul that is receiving comfort from neither heaven nor earth, nor from any other source either. She says that in such a/ state of suspension and denial the soul is "crucified between heaven and earth; and it suffers greatly, for no help comes to it either from the one or from the other." It is "sus-pended by (its) distress, just as in union and rapture (it is) suspended by joy . It is a martyrdom." She records that when she is not physically occupied so that her mind is on something else, she is "plunged into these death-like yearnings." The "pain is so excessive that (she) can scarcely bear it"; she feels as though she has "a rope around (her) neck, is being strangled, is trying 670 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 to breathe . . . and crying out for help to breathe." She longs and longs to be able to talk to someone "who has passed through the same torment, for she finds that, despite her complaints of it, no one seems to believe her." (See Life, Ch. XX.) It was not till my own darkest years were past that I came across the above and was forcibly struck by its similarity to what I myself had ex-perienced. When actually immersed in that suffering, I remember having read that one of the worst sufferings of Jesus on the cross must have been be-ing stifled by his inability to breathe. This was caused by the constric-tion of lungs, heart, and ribs in his hanging posture. To ease it he must have had to heave himself up repeatedly on his nailed feet--an extra ag-ony. I think Teresa is describing the spiritual equivalent of this condition for those in the negative floating state of union with Jesus hanging on the cross. John of the Cross, using different metaphors, writes of what I take to be a similar state. He says it is caused by "purgative contemplation" during which the inflowing of God's presence into the soul "in order to renew it" reaches down into its depths, into its very "spiritual substance." The soul seems to itself to be "drowned in darkness," to be "melting away" and to be enveloped by "a cruel spiritual death." Metaphorically it is like Jonah in the whale's belly. (In relation to this present article, it is worth recalling that Jonah's ordeal has been accepted as a scriptural symbol for Jesus' entombment.) John writes that "in this sepulcher of dark death (the soul) must needs abide until the spiritual resurrection which it hopes for." It is consumed by "the lamentations of death., the pains of hell ¯ . . the clear perception that God has abandoned it, in his abhorrence of it, and has flung it into darkness." It feels "itself to be without God, and chastised and cast out, and unworthy of him; and it feels he is wrathful With it." John also speaks of spiritual stifling and "afflictive suffering" that consists of the soul's feeling as though it "were suspended or held in the air so that it could not breathe." The state is intensified by the fact that the sufferer cannot find help or understanding from any human be-ing. He concludes by writing, "Of such are they that in truth go down alive into hell" (purgatory). (See Dark Night H, Ch. VI.) Negative Floating / 671 I do not know whether what I experienced during these years was the same as what is described by Teresa and John. I only know that when I read them now, as in the above passages, I feel I understand exactly what is being reported, because I myself have been through it. Shall it be N or N plus I lamN. I accepted that. I buried deep in my mind My mathematical knowledge Of what N could really be. Not satisfied with status quo But dreading the pain That moving might mean, I embraced N-fixed, safe and therefore undemanding. Memory would not be stifled. Knowledge that N can be expanded Would twist and turn and peek out Coming to the surface unexpectedly And at times unwanted. There is more. Why not N plus one? Expanding toward potential Could hurt, could be dearly bought. Surely, only here is progress, Expansion toward great goals. Why else do I exist? Except to know N is not complete Without Him as plus One. Sister Marjorie Sweeney, S.S.J. St. Joseph Convent 734 Willow Street Lebanon, PA 17042 Spiritual Dryness: Some Practical Guidelines Eamon Tobin Father Eamon Tobin, having completed the Master's degree in Formative Spiritual-ity at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, is currently pastor of a parish in Cocoa Beach, Florida. His address is Church of Our Savior; 5301 North Atlantic Avenue; Cocoa Beach, Florida 32931. The Lord, your God, will circumcise your hearts., that you may love the Lord, your God, with all your heart and all your soul, and so may live (Dt 30:6). Blessed. is the person who can call the darkness holy, who can desire its purification, who can rest in its presence. Such a person will grow rapidly because the process of purification is facilitated by generosity (Source Unknown). [~'very praying person sooner or later experiences what is called dryness in prayer. In spiritual dryness we have no felt sense of God's presence. We may,even think we have lost our Beloved or feel abandoned by him. In the sch~)ol, of prayer, few things are more important to understand than the nature and role of spiritual dryness, I intend to deal with this impor-tant dimension of the spiritual life by responding to five important ques-tions that one can ask about prayer in the desert. Question 1: What is it that praying people experience during the desert periods of the spiritual"jou~rney? The actual desert experience of praying persons will vary depending on the level of faith and spiritual maturity. For example, for the beginner in prayer spiritual dryness fre-quently means not just the absence of a felt sense of the presence of God 672 Spiritual Dryness / 67'3 but also feelings of what Saint Ignatius calls desolation--that is, feel-ings of anxiousness, sadness, or lo.ss of peace flowing from the thought, "I have lost God," or "God has abandoned me." On the other hand, for the person who is more mature in faith and advanced in the ways of prayer, spiritual dryness may not be an experience of desolation. The ex-perience will be one which lacks a felt sense of God's presence but may be accompanied by the conviction: "Even though I can't feel his pres-ence (at least on the external level), I do believe he is close and active in my life. Even though I cannot feel his presence (that is, spiritual dry-ness), I don't feel anxious, sad, or abandoned (that is, desolation). In fact, I feel peaceful." ~ To believe that God is present and active despite his apparent absence can be considered one of the greatest blessings of the spiritual life. For most of us, particularly in the early years of prayer, spiritual dryness usually includes the experience of desolation ("I have lost God; God has abandoned me"). Usually it is a time of spiritual suf-fering. We think we are getting the "silent treatment" from God. We "call out to him all day long, but he never answers" (Ps 22:3).2 Spiri-tual dryness is like journeying in the desert with no water in sight. Prayer is no longer exciting; rather, it is a weary struggle. Spiritual exercises that once nourished us now are empty, and we have little or no desire .to do them. Another dimension of the desert experience may be a feeling of dis-couragement as we become keenly aware of our own sinfulness. (We may not yet know that one of the surest signs of growth in the interior life is a growing awareness of our own sinfulness.) We may begin to think we are regressing rather than progressing. We may begin to expe-rience one of the great paradoxes of the spiritual life: the closer we come to God the further it seems to us that we are away from him. As we get closer to the all-piercing Light of God, the more our own darkness will show itself. Our lives will appear to be hollow and mediocre. The Scot-tish priest, the late Father John Dalrymple, writes: "It is as if I were to bring the sleeve of my coat toward the window of the room, and as I move into the light, the dust and dandruff on the sleeve become more obvious. It is not that as I moved the coat got dirtier, but that the light got brighter.''3 All in all, the thing that scares us most and even hurts us is the thought, "I have lost my Beloved; he has abandoned me" (See Song of Songs, Chapter 3). This thought or feeling is the experience of desolation described above. To sum up, we can say that while the actual experience of the desert will be different for different people, for all of us it will mean a felt sense 6"/4 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 of the absence of God. And for those of us whose faith in God is still fragile, it will frequently involve the experience of desolation (the "I have lost God" feeling). In reading the above description of spiritual dryness, one may think that it is something only experienced by monks, religious, and the ex-ceptional lay person~ Yet spiritual directors tell us that this experience is quite .common in the lives of many average, prayerful people who dis-cover somewhere in the midst of their spiritual journeys that spiritual ex-ercises that once nourished them spiritually now do nothing for them. Question 2: Why is an understanding of this dimension of prayer so important? There are at least three reasons why some understanding of spiritual dryness is important. First, if we do not know the role of the times of dryness, we may think that we have "lost God" and that our prior, positive feelings in prayer were not a gift from God but the crea-tion of our own imaginations. This frequently happens. Many people who have a genuine conversion and get all excited about prayer quit when the well runs dry. This is sad because it is now that God wants to do his real work in such persons. Second, lack of knowledge about the purpose of spiritual dryness may cause us to continue praying in a way that, at this particular stage in our spiritual journey, may be more of an obstacle than a help to our spiritual growth. Many people are unaware that at some stage in the spiritual journey God calls us to become less active in prayer so that he can be more active in our spiritual transfor-mation. Third, the experience of spiritual dryness may be something caused by ourselves or something permitted by God. When it is permit-ted by God, it is meant to purify us and bring us closer to him. Such dry-ness is a gift to be accepted and embraced. When spiritual dryness is our doing, we need to work at removing the causes of such dryness. Lack of knowledge about the nature and role of spiritual dryness may lead us to believe that a particular experience of dryness in prayer is authentic and God-given when in fact it is something brought on by our own infi-delities. So the time of spiritual dryness is a critical time in the spiritual jour-ney. How we respond to it will determine whether we move forward spiri-tually or stagnate. Question 3: Why does God permit us to experience desert peri-ods in the spiritual journey? So I will allure her 1 will lead her into the desert and speak to her heart (Ho 2:16). Spiritual Dryness / 675 God permits us to experience spiritual desert periods in order to pu-rify us of those things that hinder our spiritual transformation and to teach us some important lessons about the spiritual life and how it works. In our answer to this question we will look at some specific purifications that God works in us and lessons that he teaches us in the desert. Purifications of the Desert In the desert God will want to purify us of any excessive attachment we may have to consolation in prayer. If in prayer God blesses us with a lot of consolations (or "spiritual highs" as we often say today), there is a danger that we may seek and love "the consolations of our God more than the God of our consolations" (Saint Teresa of Avila). In time of spiritual consolation it is easy to pray. The challenge is to remain faith-ful to prayer when we experience little or no felt sense of God's pres-ence or action in our lives. During such dry periods God is asking us to love him for himself and not just for the spiritual highs or consolations he offers us in prayer. He is asking us to show that we are not just fair-weather friends but all-weather friends. And he is teaching us the im-portant lesson that he is to be found more deeply in the desert than in the garden of superficial delights. Secondly, in the desert God purifies us of spiritual vanity. John Dal-rymple explains sp!ritual vanity in this way: Someone taking to religion in all zeal, becoming caught upI in a cam-paign of prayer, fasting, spiritual reading, liturgical practice, and retreat weekends might be indulging unawares in one big ego-trip. Conversion of the soul from a worldly life to a spiritual life is at first s, uperficial only. The convert has been given new, spiritual goals; but the conver~- sion is only external. In itself the sofil is as full as it ever was of unre-generate tendencies to vanity, arrogance, acquisitiveness, the only dif-ference being that after conversion these tendencies are now attached to spiritual instead of worldly objects . The zeal of such a person is infectious, but it is, as yet, chiefly the expression of the person's vanity or self-centeredness, dressed up in Christian clothes.4 For God to do his work of spiritual transformation in us, he must pu-rify us of such spiritual vanity. God often brings about this purification in us by bringing to naught our best efforts to change ourselves and eve-rything and everyone around us. As we sit on the ruins of our self-made temples and projects, we are purified of spiritual vanity and arrogance, and we learn the meaning of spiritual poverty, which is realizing our com-plete dependence and need for God to bring about any spiritual growth 676 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 in others or in ourselves. In the desert, God's intention is not to punish us but to purify us. In the journey of life we consciously or unconsciously become overly-attached to persons or things--so much so that they become idols (that is, more important to us than God). This happened to Israel after she lived in the Promised Land for some time. She became so enamored with the blessings of the land that she forgot the One who gave her the land. To purify her of this idolatry God led Israel into the desert for a second time where she would be free of all her attachments and free to listen anew to the Word of God (See Hosea, Chapter 2). Lessons to Be Learned in the Desert Now let us briefly look at some of the lessons that God wishes to teach us in the desert. When God takes away consolation in prayer (that is, the felt sense of his presence), he wants to teach us the important lesson that he can be encountered at a deeper level than our emotions. He wants to teach us that we are no longer dependent on emotional returns to know we have encountered him. As we grow in our relationship with God, the more we will "learn to be at home in the dark because we are sure, in faith, that the potter is truly shaping the clay, even though the clay sees nothing of what is happening."5 An example about eating food might help to illustrate this point more clearly. Sometimes we may immensely enjoy eating a delicious meal. We may savor every morsel of the food. All in all, it is a delightful ex-perience. On another occasion we may not enjoy at all another type of delicious meal. We may not be feeling well, or the food may not appeal to us. Yet from a nutritious point of view, both meals are equally good. Our lack of enjoyment of the second meal in no way diminishes its nu-tritious value. The same principle is at work when it comes to prayer. Sometimes when we pray we really feel and savor God's presence and love. At other times the prayer is empty and dull. Who are we, though, to say that the latter time is of no benefit to our spiritual growth or is less pleasing in God's sight? A second lesson God teaches us in the desert is that spiritual conso-lation is his p.ure gift to us and not something we can earn by being good or by praying :in a particular way. In prayer God teaches us this impor-tant lesson by "dropping in" on us when we least expect him and by "failing to show" when we very much want to experience his presence. A third lesson that God wishes to teach us in the desert is that spiri- Spiritual Dryness / 677 tual growth is totally dependent on his work in us and not on anything we do. Our task is simply to be flexible and cooperative with the move-ment of his Spirit. In the spiritual life, "working at it" often means "be-ing still," "just being there" and exercising discipline over our doing and achieving self which so often wants to run the show. This is a diffi-cult lesson for us because so much of our training for the outer journey of life has told us to be "take-charge" and self-sufficient persons. It is not easy for us to switch gears in the inner journey. In the spiritual life God is the Chief Actor; we are the acted-upon. Mary, at the Annunciation (Lk 1:26-38), is our perfect model. When God mysteriously breaks into Mary's life and invites her to become the mother of Jesus, she doesn't respond, "Sure, Lord, I'll do it!" Rather, she says, "I am your maidservant; work in and through me as you want." Mary's response was, "Fiat, be it done unto me," not, "I'11 do it." This attitude is one of active receptivity, and it is the secret of Christian spirituality and spiritual growth. Active receptivity is charac-terized by the effort to place our energy, will, and freedom at the dis-posal of God so that he can do with us and in us what he wills, Finally, when God our Father allows our prayer to run dry, he is in-viting us to participate in the cross of Jesus. In times of dryness we are experiencing the thirst of Jesus on the cross. If the cross was Jesus' way to the Father, then surely we, the disciples of Jesus, cannot expect to travel the scenic route free of all pain and hardship. When we experi-ence darkness in prayer or in the marketplace, we are being invited to identify with Jesus in his suffering, in his experience of feeling aban-doned by the Father. Also in the desert we are being invited and chal-lenged to trust that our God will not abandon us but will come to rescue us and redeem us (See Exodus, Chapter 16). Question 4: How can I tell when a particular desert experience is caused by my own infidelity or is something permitted by God to help me to grow in my relationship with him? When dryness occurs in prayer, particularly in the early stages when God is giving alternating periods of dryness and consolation, wemay tend to blame ourselves for dryness. We may wonder what latest infidelity we committed to bring about this dryness. The fact may be that we have done nothing wrong . to occasion the dryness. God may be allowing us to experience the dry-ness bechuse he wants to teach us some lesson and/or purify some as-pect of our relationship with him. On the other hand, we may think the dryness is from God when in fact it is caused by our own laxity and sin-fulness. Therefore, it is important that we be able to discern the true 6711 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 cause of the dryness because our response to it will differ, depending on whether the dryness is permitted by God or is something brought on by ourselves. Let us now identify several ways that we can bring about our own spiritual desert. ( 1 ) Indifference to a Sinful Pattern of Behavior: If we are indifferent to some sinful pattern of behavior in our lives, then we can expect diffi-culty in prayer. In a human friendship a negative pattern of behavior (for example, a critical or lying spirit), which we make no effort to ,change, will have a destructive effect on the whole relationship. Likewise, if in our relationship with God, we are deliberately ignoring a sinful pattern of behavior (for example, involvement in an illicit relationship, unfor-giveness, unethical business practices), then we can rightfully expect ten-sion in our relationship with God. When we do the above, we are delib-erately excluding the Lord and his influence from some area of our lives. In such a situation we should not be surprised that we do not feel God's presence very much in prayer. Here it is important to note that I am not referring to a sinful pattern of behavior that we are trying to change and that we are bringing before the Lord in prayer. In this case we are rec-ognizing sin and struggling with it. Instead of keeping us from God, our struggle with a particular sin or weakness may be the very means that God will use to allow us to experience his love, mercy and power. (See 2 Co 12:7-10 for Paul's famous example of how his thorn in the flesh became the very means of God's power.) In the former case, we are not even confronting our sin or seeking God's help with it. Instead we are deliberately ignoring its existence or trying to rationalize its O.K. 'hess. In the latter case, our sin grieves us and we are doing what we can to remove it from our lives. (2) Repressed Anger at God: Two highly-respected spiritual direc-tors, Fathers William Connoily and William Barry, write in a co-authored book: "When prayer flattens out, or appears tO be facing an iron wall, the director must always suspect the presence of unexpressed anger."6 To add to this problem, many of us were raised in a culture where appropriate expression of anger was socially unacceptable. "Hence resentments, holding a grudge or subdued rage, when they are present, are all likely to be given other names like indifference and ra-tional analysis."7 When someone hurts us, our relationship with that per-son will diminish, even if we decide to present an affable, friendly front; but in reality we will distance Ourselves emotionally from the person. In a similar way, if we become angry with God about something, we may Spiritual Dryness / 679 continue to be faithful to our prayer time, but on an emotional level we can be fairly sure we have distanced ourselves from him. (It is impor-tant for us to be aware that if life is handing us a raw deal, we may well be unconsciously blaming God, the Source of all things, for our lousy situation.) (3) Separation of Prayer and Life: The spiritual life is all of life and not just one segment of it. The Lord refuses to be a compartmentalized God; he wants to be a part and parcel of our whole life. When we try to keep God in church or in our prayer closet and not allow him to guide all the activities of our day, we can be sure that we are setting ourselves up for dryness in prayer. If we exclude God from the activities of our day, then we should not be surprised if he is missing from our prayer time. Even on a human level, no one likes to be a "tag-along" in some-one else's life. (4) Overwork: When our prayer life dries up, it is good for us to ask if we are pushing ourselves too much on the vital and functional dimen-sions of life. "Am I overworked? Am I over-tired? Am I coming down with the flu? Am I neglecting physical exercise? Do I have a tendency to make leisure time work? Or do I have leisure time--period?" These are important questions to ask. These things affect our prayer life. If we fail to care properly for our bodies, then we are neglecting a dimension of ourselves that we depend on to help us to pray. When we are very tired and overworked, prayer may well be seen as just another duty or thing to do. (5) Lack of Honesty in Prayer: Just as shallow or dishonest sharing dulls human relationships, it also dulls the Divine-human relationship. If our prayer is no more than "sweet talk" to "sweet Jesus," we should not expect Jesu~ to be too interested in our conversation. We must learn to talk to the Lord about the real stuff in our lives. (6) Halfhearted Efforts at Prayer: On a human level two friends may fail to really connect with each other because their conversations are "just words," words that fail to express what they are truly thinking and feeling. The problem may be that deep down they don't want to or are scared to encounter each other in a deep way. When a relationship is char-acterized by this type of communication, then we should expect it to be empty and unfulfiiling. In a similar vein, when our prayer time mainly consists of the rote recitation of certain prayers or of inattentive spiritual reading--if beneath the "saying of prayers" and the acts of piety there is no real desire to encounter God and grow in relationship with him-- then we should expect little or no satisfaction in prayer. In fact, our spiri- Review for Religious, September-October 1989 tual exercises may become a substitute for a real relationship with God. If we discern that we are the cause of our spiritual dryness, we should do all we can to remove the particular obstacle. For example, if the problem or obstacle is that we are holding onto a grudge and doing nothingto let it go, then we may need to pray for forgiveness for that person and/or we may need to have an open chat with the person with whom we are having a problem. If we discern that our experience of spiri-tual dryness is due to our tendency to separate prayer and life (see ob-stacle number three above), then our solution will be to work at allow-ing the Lord to walk with us in all the activities of our day. In short, when we discern that we are the cause of the spiritual dryness, then we ought to do something to remove the obstacle. It is the experience of most, if not all, disciples of the Lord that once they begin to struggle with an obstacle, prayer again becomes alive and they experience a new closeness to God. Finally, it should be noted that in trying to discern the cause of our spiritual dryness we would be well advised to seek the coun- ¯ sel of a good spiritual director. When we experience spiritual dryness most of us have a tendency to think that it is due to some infidelity on our part. The truth may be that God is permitting us to experience the desert so that he can continue his purifying work in us. This brings us to the second part of our response to Question 4: "How might we know that it is God and not us who is calling us into a spiritual desert?" While we can never be absolutely sure--since we live by faith and not by clear vision--when spiritual dryness is being per-mitted by God, we can say that the following are good indicators that the dryness is the purifying work of God: --If during the time of dryness we remain faithful to prayer. --If our prayer is honest and flowing from the real stuff of our lives. --If we are trying to integrate prayer and life. --If we are trying to live a life of charity; if our prayer is helping us to be more loving. --If we are genuinely trying to avoid sin and live our lives accord-ing to God's Word. --If we thirst for God as we walk in the desert. (It is crucial that we, remember that our desire for God is in itself a tangible sign of his pres-ence in our lives. We couldn't even desire God if he didn't place that desire in our hearts.) You will notice that the above signs are pretty much the opposite of the ways that we ourselves bring about our own spiritual desert. Prayer, like so many other things in life, is a series of "arrivals" Spiritual Dryness and "starting points." We arrive at a point where we feel good. We ex-perience the grace of consolation. But that only lasts a little while and then a certain discontent (a kind of desert) sets in--a discontent that may be caused by ourselves or permitted by God. Then we are faced with the challenge of discerning who is causing the discontent: "Is it God or me?" The purpose of the discontent caused by him is to create in us a longing for more, to create in us a desire to move closer to God. In the spiritual journey God brings us to a particular point or state; he lets us rest there and enjoy that plateau for a little while, and then he says, "O.K. Let's move ahead and seek for more" (see Ex 40:36-37). Of course, it is not easy to move when we are not sure where he is leading us. All he says is, "Move and trust that I'll take you to a new and bet-ter place." Finally, if we are in doubt about the cause ofour discontent or dry-ness, then we should talk to a spiritual guide or, if that is not possible, simply say a prayer like this: "Lord, if this dryness I am experiencing is due to some failing of mine, please reveal it to me. Until you do I am going to assume that I am not the cause of the dryness." Question 5: What are some resources available to us to sustain us in the desert? Four resources that will sustain us in the desert are: --a wise spiritual director; --a strong faith; --fidelity to prayer; --the support of fellow pilgrims. Our first help is a wise spiritual director. By wise I mean one who understands the role of the desert in the spiritual life and hopefully one who has experienced and grown through the desert in his or her own spiri-tual journey. Many people whom God led into the desert for purifica-tion have suffered much at the hands of well-intentioned but misinformed spiritual guides. Saint John of the Cross reserves some of his harshest words for such misinformed guides.8 For example, a misinformed guide may insist that a directee continue to meditate and do a lot of spiritual reading when God is calling her to the prayer of contemplation. In the desert a good spiritual director will be a source of guidance, encourage-ment and inspiration. When we are in a spiritual desert, it is important that we learn to place our trust in a good spiritual director. But, as most of us know, wise spiritual directors are nearly as scarce as palm trees in the northern states of America. The truth is that the road to authenticity is dangerous, hard, and narrow, and few decide to travel it. In the ab-sence of a wise spiritual director (and there is really no substitute for such Review for Religious, .September-October 1989 a person), one may receive some guidance from books that are written or recommended by people who are recognized guides of the inner jour-ney. A second important resource is a strong faith--a faith that enables US" --to believe that God knows what he is doing when he allows us to ex-perience the desert (Rm 11:33-36); --to believe that in the desert God is not punishing us but is purifying us (Dt 30:6); --to believe that God grows his best flowers (virtues) in the desert (Ho 2); --to believe that God works in us while we rest in him (Mk 4:26-29); --to believe that in the struggles of life God is on our side fighting our battles (Ex 14:13-14 and Dt 1:30-33); --to believe that in the desert God's seeming absence is just a different type of presence, one that we may not as yet have recognized (Ex 16); --to be secure with insecurity (Rm 8:28); --above all, to generously abandon ourselves to the purifying work of God (Lk 23:46). A third important resource as we struggle in the desert is fidelity to prayer. In the desert, prayer is usually dry and therefore all the more dif-ficult to remain faithful to. When it comes to praying in the desert, spiri-tual guides counsel us to avoid two extremes or temptations. The first temptation is to quit prayer, thinking that our best efforts are leading us nowhere. The second temptation is to "junk up" our prayer time with extra prayers, rosaries, Scripture reading, and so forth, thinking that if we only try harder maybe we will feel the presence of God. This second temptation needs to be resisted not only because it blocks what God is about in the desert but also because it is (usually unconsciously) our at-tempt to stay in or get back into the driver's seat. In general, prayer in the desert will become much less active, more passive--less us, more God. The challenge will be to learn to sit quietly in the presence of God, trusting that he is at work in us while we rest in him. Le~.rning to "waste time doi.ng nothing" in prayer is, without a doubt, one of the most difficult lessons we have to learn in the school of prayer. Unfortunately, most of us never learn to waste time gracefully in the presence of God. Such a practice goes completely against our west-ern, work-ethic nature that is usually driven to do, to achieve, and to pro-duce-- that likes to see tangible results for its efforts. Because of this need in us, most of us fill the vacuum that we feel in the desert with read- Spiritual Dryness ing or prayers of some sort. For those of us who are willing to try and do less (that is, to be less active) in prayer so that God may do more in us, the following suggestions might be helpful. -Spend some time just "being there" with the Lord, aware that as "we rest in him he is at work in us." We put aside all effort to achieve because now we are learning that achievement (growth) is God's work. By periodically spending some time "doing nothing" in the presence of the Lord, we are expressing our faith in an important spiritual dictum: "God's activity in prayer is more important than my activity." -Spend some time slowly repeating prayers like: "Incline my heart to your will, O Lord." "Make me want you, O Lord, more than anyone/ thing in my life." -Take a phrase of Scripture like "You are my beloved Son" and dwell on it. -Simply take one word like "Jesus" or "love" and repeat it gent-ly and slowly, letting God work in us, leading us beyond conceptual thoughts, images, or feelings to wordless depths. -Image and be present to Mary in the Temple after she lost Jesus (Lk 2:41-50) and at the foot of the cross (Jn 19:25-27) which must have been a real dark night of the spirit for her. Ask Mary to intercede for you so that you may have something of the faith which she had when she thought she had lost Jesus. -Finally, you may want to read something on spiritual dryness. By simply reading and rereading portions of a book like When the Well Runs Dry, I am encouraged to persevere in the desert. Personally, I need to hear over and over again the teaching and encouragement that a book like Father Green's offers. In prayer our role is to be faithful in coming aside, to be at God's disposal. What actually happens in prayer is God's business. For me this piece of wisdom has always been very consoling. It helped to free me from thinking that it was up to me to make things happen in prayer. Now I am more relaxed, knowing that my role is to be faithful in coming aside, to do what I can to eliminate distractions from within and with-out, and to pray as I feel led. ("Pray as you can, not as you can't.") The rest is in God's hands. If he chooses to bless me with a deep sense of his presence, I am indeed very grateful. If he chooses to bless me with his seeming absence (God is always only seemingly absent), then I try to be grateful for that, also believing that God knows what will best help me to grow. "Our prayer is good when our hearts are fixed on God, even if it is filled with boring aridity or passionate turmoil.' ,9 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 A fourth resource in the desert is the prayer and personal support of fellow pilgrims. While each person's inner journey is very personal and unique, still we can learn much from the journeys of co-pilgrims. Only the foolish try to travel the inner jou~rney alone. In the desert we are all beggars sharing morsels of bread with each other. Also, if we are blessed enough to be a part of a small, faith---sharing group, then we have avail-able to us an excellent resourc_~e for the dry times. In the dry times the prayers of'fellow pilgrims are usually a big help. I wbuld like to conclude our discussion on spiritual dryness with a prayer that I have found to be a source of great encouragement during times of spiritual desolation. Dear Lord, in the midst of much inner turmoil and restlessness, there is a consoling thought: maybe you are working in me in a way I cannot yet feel, experience, or understand. My mind is not able to concentrate on you, my heart is not able to remain centered, and it seems as if you are absent and have left me alone. But in faith I cling to you. I believe that your Spirit reaches deeper and further than my mind or heart, and that profound movements are not the first to be noticed. Therefore, Lord, I promise I will not run away, not give up, not stop praying, even when it all seems useless, pointless, and a waste of time and effort. I want to let you know that I love you even though | do not feel loved by you, and that I hope in you even though I often experi-ence despair. Let this be a little dying I can do with you and for you as a way of experiencing some solidarity with the millions in this world who suffer far more than I do. Amen.~° NOTES ~ See Thomas H. Green, S. J., Weeds Among the Wheat (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1984), Chapters 6 and 7. Also see Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1979), p. 92. 2 Some other Psalms that reflect darkness in the prayer of the psalmist are Psalms 60, 69, 74, and 88. 3 Father John Dalrymple, Simple Prayer (Wilmington, Delaware, 1984), p. 69. '~ lbid, p. 93. 5 Thomas H. Green, S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Notre Dame, Indiana, 1979), p. 119. 6 Fathers William Barry. and William Connolly, The Practice of Spiritual Direction (New York, 1982), p. 73. 7 Ibid. 8 Saint John of the Cross, The Collected Works of John of the Cross, translated by Kieran Kavanaugh, O.C.D. and Otilio Rodriguez, O.C.D. (Washington, D.C., 1979), pp. 620-634. 9 Father John Dalrymple, Simple Prayer, (Wilmington, Delaware, 1984), p. 66. ~0 Henri J. M. Nouwen, A Cry for Mercy: Prayers from the Genesee (Garden City, New York, 1983), p. 102. That God Might Be Father .Laurel M. O'Neal Sister Laurel O'Neal, a solitary (hermit), is familiar to our readers. Her address is Stillsong Hermitage; 80 Lafayette Circle; Lafayette, California 94549. Perhaps the only question more problematic than that of the possibility of prayer is the question of its, genuine significance and necessity. Sur-prisingly, however, this is also a question we generally fail to consider explicitly or face squarely. More typically, the meaningfulness and re-quisiteness of our prayer are matters we tend to take for granted, even though the notion of prayer may lie at the heart of important or even fun-damental expressi6ns of self-understanding and definition. But the ques-tion is an important one, and one we cannot easily afford to avoid or care-lessly dismiss, if we intend to take prayer seriously or maintain a proper sense of its place and role in our daily lives. After all, why really are we called to pray? What, if anything, is truly and uniquely at stake in our prayer? Is there any reason to regard our own personal prayer as a matter of compelling urgency and real ne-cessity, or is the matter really more nugatory? Clearly, as Christians we are called to believe that our prayer is a meaningful, even indispensable activity, vital to the transformation and healing of all we know, and the realization of all we are made and hope for. But how do we justify such a belief? What is it about prayer that makes such claims credible? The answers to all of these questions are based in our recognition that in prayer something deeper and even more fundamental is at stake, some-thing in which all healing and human growth in wisdom and sanctity are rooted, and upon which all our hope depends. Like Christianity in general, and like God himself, prayer is pro-foundly paradoxical, and this is particularly true of the question at hand. 685 Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Although we must acknowledge that prayer is the gift and activity of God attended to by sinners (that is, by persons whose lives are fundamentally marked and marred by fragmentation and alienation), we must also af-firm that the deeper truth is the paradox that prayer is primarily some-thing we undertake on God's own behalf, insofar as prayer is the experi-ence of God as the One he wishes to be for us. Quite simply, what is truly and uniquely at stake in our prayer, at each and every moment we pray, is nothing less than the life and destiny of God himself. As Chris-tians, as persons who pray--that is, as persons who share as heirs of God in the obedient Sonship of Jesus Christ, we do so primarily that God might truly be the Father he has willed to be from the beginning. This insight is easy to lose sight of, something that occurs particu-larly whenever God's paradoxical nature is obscured or forgotten, and an immutable or even (as commonly misunderstood) "triune" God is substituted for a Living One. Most of us are well aware that on the one hand, our God is the "High and Holy One," the one who reveals him-self in sovereignty and self-sufficiency. Indeed he is Yahweh, "the one who will be who (he) will be," ~ in absolute authority and awesome auton-omy. But this dominant Old Testament image is just one side of the para-dox whom we Christians know as God; and if on the one hand he is the High and Holy One who is absolutely self-sufficient, he is also the one who has determined not to remain so, but rather has resolved to make his own destiny subject to the responsiveness of his creation. Our God is on the one hand without beginning or end, absolutely self-sufficient, in need of no one and no thing. Yet on the other hand he has willed from all eternity not to remain alone but to turn to another--a person who will be his counterpart. He is the eternal decision to speak to this other and to hearken to the word which this other speaks. He is the eternal deci-sion to love this other and to accept this other's love. [The God of the New Testament] who is eternally self-sufficient wills not to be; God who is eternally of and for himself wills to be for another.2 This means quite simply that God has determined to be for us as well as dependent upon us. We must allow this determination to be realized, and let God be who he wills to be for us. This is indeed the most human thing we can do, just as it is the most loving. Those who truly appreci-ate that our own destiny is dependent upon the proper exercise of human freedom should not be surprised that God too is dependent upon it. In fact, we should be aware that the Christ event reveals that it is human freedom which is the true counterpart to divine omnipotence. For many, this will be an astounding assertion. However, if we reflect on precisely That God Might Be Father / 687 what occurred in the Christ event, perhaps this critical point will become more acceptable to most people. Certainly such reflection is necessary if we are to truly appreciate the importance and urgency of our prayer. It is true that in the Christ event--in the life, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus--God drew near to every moment and mood of his creation. This is truth but the truth cuts far more deeply than even this awesome reality. In the Christ event something absolutely s'ingular and unsurpassable occurred. For the first time in human history someone, in this case Jesus of Nazareth, in living a life wholly responsive to the God who would be Father, accomplished two things. In the first place, he lived the first genuinely human existence ever known in the history of humankind, and secondly, in his proper exercise of true human freedom he allowed God to become the Father he had willed to be from the be-ginhing. In the dialogue which existed between Father and Son, both hu-man and divine life reached a fullness for which they had yearned and groaned through time and eternity, the realization of human and divine destinies were forever linked, and divine omnipotence and human free-dom were inextricably wed as counterparts of one another. Nor is this all. In Jesus' resurrection from the dead, this abundant life was made a continuing and unconquerable reality in our world. It is in prayer that we enter most deeply into participation into this abundant life, and in prayer that Jesus' Sonship becomes our own and the Fatherhood of God is further realize~t. Through our participation in the Sonship of Jesus, we come to know genuine human life, and we become aware that it is a life characterized and constituted by an ongoing and all-consuming dialogue with the Fa-ther, who is in turn constituted as Father in this dialogue. In the Christ event Jesus responded to God as Son. He allowed God to be the author of his life, and he allowed God to be authored as Father in the process. Truly human existence is nothing less and nothing other than daughter-ship or sonship to the Living God whose own inner truth and dynamism is realized in Fatherhood. Prayer is simply and always the mutual out-working of these inextricably linked divine and human destinies. God is Father neither before, nor apart from, the response of Jesus as Son; neither is he our Father apart from our participation in that de-finitive Sonship which we call prayer. (Note well, in all of this it is im-portant that, according to the prologue to John's gospel, we are very clear that it is not the Logos that is Son; rather it is Jesus as Son in whom the Logos is incarnate. The two realities are quite different, and are often tragically confused. As the term is commonly but perhaps naively used, Review for Religious, September-October 1989 the Logos is "preexistent"; the Son is not, and whenever this confu-sion occurs, it becomes impossible to appreciate the true significance of the obedient Sonship of Jesus or of our own prayer.) Although he is the one "who will be who (he) will be," the God of the New Testament turns to the world as the one who would be Father, that is, as one who would find his counterpart and true completion in those who would turn in response as daughters and sons (that is, as those who are of him and from him) and, as one whose deepest identity would remain unrealized and unrealizable apart from this response. What are the implications of all this for our prayer? In the first place, we must concede that our prayer has real meaning and urgency, not only and not even primarily because we are saved through God's activity in our lives, but because in our prayer we concern ourselves with the very life of God. Whether or not prayer is a profound experience for Is, it is a significant experience for God since it is in prayer that he is allowed to achieve Fatherhood and truly realize himself. Whatever we perceive happening or not happening in our prayer, we must not lose sight of the fact of what does occur there. In prayer God is given the chance to love fully, and thus to fully be. It is not simply the'case that God is love; it is also true that in loving, God is (and it is this fact which allows us to speak of prayer in terms of the glorification or magnification of God). Prayer is possible only to the extent that our God has willed not to remain remote, that is, only to the extent that he has drawn near. But prayer is meaningful and necessary for the most part because the God who has refused to remain remote has also willed not to remain self-sufficient and has, in a very real way put his own destinyinto the hand of those to whom he would be Father, and whom he has thus willed re-spond to him as daughters and sons. Without our prayer, God remains the High and Holy One who has drawn near to us in all of life's moments and moods, but who remains deprived of real presence, and thus whose deepest will and identity remains unrealized and frustrated in our regard. It is particularly telling that the first word and entire Lord's Prayer is contained in the invocation "Father." Jesus' whole life and prayer, which were essentially synonymous, were devoted to allowing God's will to Fatherhood to be accomplished. Claiming this realization of the Fatherhood of God is the heart of all prayer. Allowing him to love us in the way he wills is the heart of all truly human activity. It is impor-tant that our prayer remain the God-centered activity it is meant to be. This is the reason Jesus gave his life and his way of praying as a "para-digm of perspective," and in fact, in what is most essentially and pro- That God Might Be Father 689 foundly the lesson of the New Testament, taught his followers to pray. We lose proper perspective if we forget that God has drawn near, but it is at least as tragic to forget that prayer is the way nearness is transformed into real presence. We said in an earlier essay3 that prayer begins, ends, and is sustained by our concern for and commitment to the life of God. Let us remember why we are present to him and what our appreciation of his nearness means for him, and may this knowledge sustain us in even the driest of moments. NOTES t The usual translation of "Yahweh" in Exodus 3:14 as "I am who am," or even the more cryptic "'I am" is inadequate insofar as it disregards the dynamic element, and promise of active and effective presence also contained in the Hebrew (see Ex 3:12). A better translation is "I will be who I will be". 2 Dwyer, John C., Son of Man attd Son of God, A New Language For Faith, (New York: Paulist Press, 1983). 3 O'Neal, Laurel M., "Prayer, Maintaining a Human Experience": R~.vl~.w R~.~.~¢~ous; Nov/Dec 1987, p. 883. Musing Fragile as a crisp autumn leaf, Hard as flint on flint, Soft as nestling down, Resilient as blue tempered steel-- You and I--this planet ours-- Cradled in God's tender arms Of Grace. Walter Bunofsky, S.V.D. 1446 E. Warne Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63107 Mary of Bethany-- The Silent Contemplative Carlos M. de Melo, S.J. Father Carlos de Melo, S.J. is professor emeritus of Canon Law and Spiritual The-ology at the Pontfical Athenaeum of Pune, India. His address is Papal Seminary; Nagar Road; Ramwadi; Pune 411 014 India. Teresa of Avila, that incomparable mistress of the spiritual life--"Mater spiritualium" as she is called in the inscription at the foot of her statue at St. Peter's, Rome--was never tired of repeating to her daughters of the Reformed Carmel that prayer is not so much a matter of much think-ing as of loving much.~ The soul of prayer is faith and love. Going through the gospels ! found this basic truth or principle beautifully illus-trated in the attitudes of Mary, the sister of Martha and Lazarus, vis-~t-vis our Lord. Bethany is a small hamlet about three kilometers southeast of Jerusa-lem, separated from the capital by the Mount of Olives. Mary of Bethany appears in five places in the gospel narratives: I) Luke 10:38-42; 2) John 11 : 1-53; 3) John ! 2: i - l l ; 4) Mark 14:3-9; and 5) Matthew 26:6-13. The last three references cover one and the same episode, that of the supper at Bethany, in the house of Simon, the "leper." True, the material is not over abundant, yet it is sufficient enough to give us a fair idea of the personality, the mind and heart, the ways and attitudes, the character of this well-known biblical figure. However, I wish to bring out in this es-say one particular trait that distinguishes her, and that is her contempla-tive attitude of life, as it comes across to us in a striking manner in two of those passages--Luke i0 and Matthew 26 (see Jn 12; Mk 14). Symbol of Contemplative . Indeed, in these passages, Mary stands out before us as a symbol and 690 Mary of Bethany / 69"1 teacher of the contemplative life particularly inspiring and helpful to per-sons "consecrated to God," whether they live in convents and monas-teries or elsewhere in the world. She thus becomes our guide, silent yet sure, to a simple, intimate relationship with our divine Master, such as will not only bring us true fulfillment but can even radically transform our life. For, as the saying goes, tell me with whom you walk and I shall tell you what sort of a person you are. When did Mary first meet Jesus? In Luke 10 the new Rabbi figures as an already familiar guest in the house of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, one whom they all highly esteemed, loved and revered, a dear friend whose visits were eagerly looked forward to and whom they welcomed with undisguised joy and profound satisfaction, as though they could never have enough of him. From him they held no secrets; they could share with him their every thought or sentiment, every joy or sorrow, and in him they were always sure to meet, in any life situation, under-standing, sympathy, guidance. First Meeting Decisive True, the gospels do not tell us when it was that Mary first met Je-sus. One thing, however, seems to be certain. Whatever might have been the time, place or occasion, that first meeiing was decisive in Mary's life; it made a lasting and ineffaceable impression on her youthful, sensitive nature. It reminds us of another such decisive encounter narrated in an-other gospel--that of the Master with the beloved disciple (Jn 1:35-39)-- one of those unforgettable events that make an impact for good and give a new turn to life. Like that of John, Mary's life, too, was deeply touched by her meeting with Jesus, for, from then on, that mysterious guest became as it were everything for her, the center of her thoughts, sentiments, deeds. It was as though interiorly taught from on high, Mary sensed in Jesus of Nazareth not only a new rabbi, or a great religious leader who taught as one having authority (Mt 7:29), who spoke as no man ever did (Jn 7:4-6), or even a worthy prophet like Moses, Isaias or Jeremias of old, but--in a way she herself was not able fully to under-stand or explain--the very incarnation of the Father of Israel, of Yah-weh himself, and at the same time, her own personal friend and guide-- her 'guruji' we might say, with all this term, and the reality it represents, means in Indian life and tradition. This explains Mary's unconditional surrender to him, her loving contemplation of him, her total openness and docility to his word, her silent "adoration"--attitudes proper to a creature before its God, its divine Lover. 692 / Review for Religious, September-October 1989 Lovable Character Mary is a lovable character--lovable because she is so

Issue 41.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1982. ; The Jesuit's Fourth Vow The Post-Charismatic The Changing Role of Brothers Volume 41 Number 2 March/April, 1982 Rev~t-:w Eor REI.~GIOUS (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:.~601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW For RELIGIOU,':, is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis, MO. © 1982 by REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOIJS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Rt:vlt:w v'or Rt:LWaot~s: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March/April, 1982 Volume 41 Number 2 Manuscripls, books for review and correspondence wilh Ihe editor should be sent to Rl.:VlEW E(m Rl-:i.l(;Iou.~; Rnom 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. I.ouis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be senl to Joseph F. Gallen. S.J.; Jesuit Communily; St. Joseph's University; (Sity Avenue al 541h St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~-:v~-:w ~-ox R~-:LI(;~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms Internationah 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Principles of Discernment Robert F. Morneau The last article of Bishop Morneau to appear in these pages was "'Dives in Misericordia: Themes and Theses," which appeared in the September issue. Bishop Morneau may be addressed care of the Ministry to Priests Program; 1016 N. Broadway; De Pere, WI 54115. The journey of life is filled with many choices, the consequences of which can be far-reaching. But as we enter into the decision-making process we are not necessar-ily alone. Friends and counselors frequently give helpful advice. Also we have the advantage of both personal and collective experience from which we can extract patterns and principles that provide guidance and wisdom. This essay spells out ten such principles that can help us discern God'svoice and respond to the Lord's call with generosity and courage. A basic belief underlies this endeavor: growth is much more likely to happen when we critically reflect upon our experience and watch for reoccurring patterns than when we simply move from one spontaneous experience to another without~explicitly dealing with any of them. Reflection, done in prayer and with serious ii~tent, provides insight and energy for spiritual development. Growth in the Lord is greatly impeded when reflection and articula-tion are absent. A three-fold method will be used: l) the articulation of ten principles of discernment; 2) a series of quotations from various authors who reflect some dimension of the basic principle; 3) a tripartite commentary which includes a reference to Scripture, an image illustrating the principle and an example from literature providing a case study of our theme. Discernment is a gift to be exercised; principles are abstractions offering mean-ing. Both are significant for human and spiritual growth. This essay presents the principles; the reader brings the gift and the experience. The hope is that the roads intersect rather than run parallel. 1. Discernment is a prayerful process by which ~xperiences are interpreted in faith. 161 162 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 By discernment of spirits is meant the process by which we examine, in the light of faith and in the connaturality of love, the nature of the spiritual states we experience in ourselves and in others. The purpose of such examination is to decide, as far as possible, which of the movements we experience lead to the Lord and to a more perfect service of him and our brothers, and which deflect us from this goal.~ Basically, as I see it, Discernment may be defined as the meeting point of prayer and action. That is, discernment is the art of recognizing what God is asking of us--what he would like us to do with our lives, how he wishes us to respond to the concrete life-situations which we encounter in following our vocation? The Christian who reflects on his own experience and on that of the community, who seeks to discern in these the divine voice, and who wants to respond to it by redirecting his life, is--theologically speaking--engaged in prayer.3 "Then he (Jesus) bent down and wrote on the ground again.TM The adulterous woman stood before him; the scribes and pharisees made their accusation; the people observed with keen curiosity. We do not know exactly what happened in the mind and heart of Jesus as he leaned forward and wrote in the sand with his finger. We do know that this immediate experience needed an interpretation. Jesus was a prayerful person; his bending forward in silence may well have been a deep moment of communion with the Father. The Gospel records the Lord's response to the situation: the accusers could silently withdraw, the accused could depart without condemnation. This is but one example of Jesus' ministry. Many other times he also turned to the Father for guidance: the prayer on the mountain before choosing the disciples, the garden prayer before his passion and death, the prayer in the desert when tempted to infidelity. The n~cessity for discernment is the experience at a crossroads; the standard for discernment is whether or not the decision leads to God and more complete service; the act of discernment requires a posture of contemplative faith. The combine used in harvesting and threshing grain has given tremendous help to the farmer. It separates the grain from the straw, retaining the former for winter feeding and discharging the latter in neat rows. The wheat and the chaff, the good and the evil, the true and the false, the beautiful and the ugly--throughout history the human spirit has been challenged to distinguish one from the other. This is no simple process. The grey areas are vast, time is often needed and not available, the multiplicity of experiences tends to clog up the task. Even with these obstacles, the spiritual combine of a discerning heart must perform its duty as well as it can. Grounded in prayer and nourished with learning, the spirits of good and evil can ~Discernment of Spirits, introd, by Edward Malatesta (Collegeville, M N: The Liturgical Press, 1970), p. 9. 2Thomas H. Green, S.J., Darkness in the Marketplace (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Mafia Press, 1982), p. 69. 3Gregory Baum, Man Becoming INew York: Herder and Herder, 1970), p. 256. *See Jn 8:8. Principles of Discernment be sorted out and properly responded to. Graham Greene's The Power and the Glory is a story about spiritual discern-ment, its successes and its failures. The "whiskey priest" must constantly make decisions concerning his person and his ministry as he is confronted with the Mexican religious persecution. The failures of discernment may well be grounded in the reflection: "a prayer demanded an act and he had no intention of acting." His success would demand courage and sanctity; the vision is given but not its reality: He felt only an immense disappointment because he had to go to God empty-handed, with nothing done at all. It seemed to him at that moment that it would have been quite easy to have been a saint. It would only have needed a little self-restraint and a little courage. He felt like someone who has missed happiness'by seconds at an appointed place. He knew now that at the end there was only one thing that counted--to be a saint) Discernment is that prayerful process allowing each individual and the larger community to move in the direction of sanctity. 2. Discernment must deal with many voices seeking to capture our minds, hearts and energies. Since the mysterious voice of the Spirit is not the only voice we hear but comes to us accompanied by the tumultuous sounds of our own conflicting impulses and the clamorings of the entire creation, it is essential for us to be able to discern the presence of the Spirit in order to choose to say "yes" to him.6 So the soul that waits in silence must learn to disentangle the voice of God from the net of other voices--the ghostly whisperings of the subconscious self, the luring voices of the world, the hindering voices of misguided friendship, the clamor of personal ambition and vanity, the murmur of self-will, the song of unbridled imagination, the thrilling note of religious romance. To learn to keep one's ear true to so subtle a labyrinth of spiritual sound is indeed at once a great adventure and a liberal education. One hour of such listening may give us a deeper insight into the mysteries of human nature, and surer instinct for divine values, than a year's hard study or external intercourse with men.7 While his mind had been pursuing its intangible phantoms, and turning in irresolution from such pursuit, he had heard about him the constant voices of his father and of his masters, urging him to be a gentleman above all things and urging him to be a good Catholic above all things. These voices had 9ow come to hollow sounding in his ears. When the gymnasium had been opened he had heard another voice urging him to be strong and manly and healthy and when the movement towards national revival had begun to be felt in the college, yet another voice had bidden him to be true to his country and help to raise up her language and tradition. in the profane world, as he foresaw, a worldly voice would bid him raise up his father's fallen state by his labors and, meanwhile, the voice of his school comrades urged him to be a decent fellow, to shield others from blame or to beg them off and to do his best to get free days for the school. And it was the din of all these hollow sounding voices that made him halt irresolutely in the pursuit of phantoms. He gave them ear only for a time but he was happy SGraham Greene, /Tie Power and the Glory (New York: The Viking Press, 1940), p. 284. 6Discernment of Spirits, p. 9. 7Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf(New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1963), p. 43. 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 only when he was far from them, beyond their call, alone or in the company of phantasmal comrades.S The parable of the good shepherd stresses the importance of recognizing the voice of the master.9 Eternal life depends on this; only those who hear and respond enter into the fullness of life. But Jesus' voice was one among many. Competition for the sheep was great and, given the gift of freedom, there could be no forcing of individual liberty. Though Jesus called some directly, they refused to listen: the rich young man, Judas, the scribes and pharisees. Others, men like John, Stephen and Paul, heard the loving call and became committed disciples. The voice of the risen Lord continues to compete with the sounds of our times. He can be heard in our sacraments of faith, in the sights and sounds of nature, in the revelation of Scripture, in the community of believers, in the words and deeds of our fellow pilgrims. Life itself is a summons to reach out and fulfill our task of becoming fully human in order that we might glorify our God. Radios have a selective apparatus called a tuner through which we can choose the station that pleases us. Many excellent possibilities are available: beautiful music, intelligent conversation, educational programs. Other options expose us to dissonant sounds, inane banality, devious propaganda. With a twist of the dial we have the power to position ourselves in any one of these environments and thus grant permission to certain ideas and images to enter and shape our perspective. In the spiritual realm, discernment tunes itself to God's message of love and forgive-ness in Jesus and lives this deep mystery in word and deed. A novel by Chaim Potok entitled My Name is Asher Lev presents an artisti-cally gifted young man who has to discern among many voices. Early in life Asher Lev recognizes that his ability to draw had not only the potential for self-fulfillment but also the possibility of a serious rupture with his parents and the Jewish community at large. In anger and confusion he argues with God: You don't want me to use the gift; why did you give it to me? Or did it come to me from the Other Side? it was horrifying to think my gift may have been given to me by the source of evil and ugliness. How can evil and ugliness make a gift of beauty?~0 The pressure from the leaders of the community, the warnings of frie,nds, the intrinsic urgings of the gift, the delicate relationship with his parents were all voices seeking attention and action. Would the gift be heard and exercised regardless of the cost? Discernment calls for radical fidelity to God, self and others. Wisdom and courage are needed to hear the truth and implement it in our personal history. 3. Discernment is cultivated in listening love that allows one to hear the .felt-experience of good and evil movements within oneself, others and society. a James Joyce, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (New York: Colonial Press Inc., 1944), pp. 83-84. 9Jn 10: I-5. ~°Chaim Potok, My Name is Asher Lev (New York: Fawcett Crest Books, 1972), p. 116. Principles of Discernment / 165 For these souls, their hearts tell them what God desires. They have only to listen to the promptings of their hearts to interpret his will in the existing circumstances. God's plans, disguised ,as they are, reveal themselves to us through our intuition rather than through our rea.son. I I Love gives freedom. Love accepts another person as he is, and discerns in the other person hidden strength. Love communicates to the other a new kind of self-possession, and enables the other to act with self-confidence.~2 Only by the supernatural working of grace can a soul pass through its own annihilation to the place where alone it can get the sort of attention which can attend to truth and to affliction. It is the same attention which listens to both of them. The name of this intense, pure, disinter-ested, gratuitous, generous attention is love.~ It is not blind love that is the enduring love, the love that God himself is. It is a seeing love, a knowing love, a love that looks through into the depth of the heart of God, and into the depth of our hearts. There is no strangeness to love; love knows; it is the only power to complete and lasting knowledge?4 Jesus was a listener and a lover. In a powerful exchange with Peter,15 Jesus listens to Peter's profession that his master is indeed Messiah; Jesus also hears Peter's unwillingness to embrace the fact that the Messiah must suffer and die. As he listens with love Jesus discerns the first response of Peter as coming from the Father and the second movement and response as coming from mere human standards. This beautiful example of double discernment resonates with many of our own experiences in which we act out of mixed motives and according to diverse and sometimes contradictory criteria. Authentic discernment is possible only when one has the graced ability to listen in love to the deepest impulses, urges and longings of the human heart with great care and exquisite respect. Jesus models for us the very essence of discernment. The sunflower delights both our eye and our imagination. In the morning it faces the east awaiting the dawn; by evening it gazes to the west as though pursuing its god. Two qualities are evident in this docile plant: the "listening" power ena-bling it to take in the sun's warm rays and its ability to respond to the flight of the sun in loving fidelity. This image highlights the importance of sensitivity in the discernment process. The slightest, impulse, urging and prompting must be absorbed and responded to if we are to faithfully follow the call of the Master. Such listening and responding is grounded in love. Love pulls us out of self-preoccupation and the parochialism of our narrow lives. The sunflower images a type of listening and love characteristic of a discerning heart. Would that the simplicity, spontaneity and flexibility of the sunflower were ours! ~Jean Pierre De Caussade, Abandonment to Divine Providence (New York: Doubleday Image Book, 1975), p. 105. ~2Man Becoming. p. 50. ~The Simone Weil Reader, p. 333. ~'~Paul Tillich. The Shaking of the Foundations (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1948), p. II0. ~SMt. 16:13-23. 166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 The movie, Ordinary People, presented a scene in which an emotionally dis-turbed young man reached out to a psychiatrist for help: Initially the relationship did not go well. Later, with time and patience, the deep loving concern and listening skills of the doctor won out. The boy revealed his story and partial healing took place. More than simple listening'happened here: a deep discernment of the movements of the heart surfaced, were owned and dealt with. More than superficial concern was demonstrated here: a profound, radical trust resulted in giving life and well-being. In such instances heart speaks to heart (cot ad cot) and even though religious language is not used nor God mentioned explicitly, a person of faith can recognize his presence in such an encounter and appreciate the exercise of the gift of discernment. 4. Discernment relies on two mirrors: Jesus and revelation. The disciple living today.does possess one ultimate criterion for correct discernment: i.e., Jesus himself.~6 With the help of the Holy Spirit, it is the task of the entire People of God, especially pastors and theologians, to hear, distinguish and interpret the many voices of our age, and to judge them in the light of the divine Word. In this way, revealed truth can always be more deeply penetrated, better understood, and set forth to greater advantage,t7 Jesus is our m~.ster to whom we do not pay enough attention. He speaks to every heart and utters the word of life, the essential word for each one of us, but we do not hear it. We would like to know what he has said to other people, yet we do not listen to what he says to us.~ The miracle of the loaves as presented in John's Gospel~9 involves an example of discernment. Many of the disciples who had followed Jesus up to this point now walked away, finding incredible the claim that Jesus himself was the bread of life. The Lord turned to the Twelve and asked if they too would go away. Simon Peter's. response: "Lord, who shall we go to? You have the message of eternal life.'~0 The specific choice that was made was based on a person and his word. No abstract philosophy here; no esoteric theology; no subtle psychology. Discernment and decision flowed from a relationship of trust and faith. Implicit in such a discernment process is fidelity: decisions are made in terms of personal commit-ment. Such fidelity secures personal identity because in such an exercise of free-dom we protect both the reality of the Creator and the creature. No lies are possible with authentic discernment. The keystone of an arch is in a precarious position. Its presence makes the arch integral, but it is dependent on the two columns which it unites. If either column is missing there simply is no arch and the stone meant to be a key remains just an ~6Jon Sobrino, Christology at the Crossroads. trans. John Drury (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1978), p. 129. ~TThe Documents of Vatican IL Gaudium et Spes New York: Herder and Herder, 1966), p. 246. taAbandonment to Divine Providence. p. 53. ~'~Jn 6:1-71. Principles of Discernment ] 167 ordinary stone. Discernment rests on the personal column of Jesus Christ: his values and affections are the very substance we use in sorting out the many options of life. Discernment also rests on Sacred Scripture which provides a vision of salvation history and the backdrop for measuring what is spiritual and what is not. Blessed are the poor, the peacemakers, the ones who hunger and thirst for justice; ungodly are the self-indulgent, the self-serving, the lukewarm. Revelation clarifies those actions which are life-giving and those which are death-dealing. The person of Jesus leaves unambiguous the path we are to follow. Such lights as Jesus and Scripture are rich and necessary graces for our journey. The Confessions of Augustine of Hippo reveal a man for whom the word of God and the person of Jesus were vital sources of power. It was in St. Paul's letter to the Romans that God's word overwhelmed the struggling Augustine; it was in personal relationship with Christ that he perceived reality from a faith perspective. Augustine's hunger for the truth, nourished for years by the classic philosophers, now found sustenance from Scripture. Augustine's deep affectivity, once franti-cally seeking fulfillment in an unbridled sensuous life, found its home in the Lord. With these two resources it is no wonder that the bishop of Hippo is noted for his keen, incisive decisions. Both as a judge of human affairs and as an exegete of Scripture, he brought much life to many because his process of discernment was rooted in the Lord and in biblical faith. 5. Discernment assumes that God is continually working in the depth of every individual and community. He (God) revealed himself several times reigning, as is said before, but principally in man's soul; he has taken there his resting place and his honorable city. Out of this honorable throne he will never rise or depart without end. Marvelous and splendid is the place where the Lord dwells; and therefore he wants us promptly to attend to the touching of his.grace, rejoicing more in his unbroken love than sorrowing over our frequent failings.2~ But whatever we do, we do it because we are diawn to this particular acti6n without knowing why. All we can say can be reduced to this: ~'1 feel drawn to write, to read, to question and examine. I obey this feeling, and God, who is responsible for it, thus builds up within me a kind of spiritual store which, in the future, will develop into a Sore of usefulness for myself and for others." This is what makes it essential for us to be simple-hearted, gentle, compliant and sensitive to the slightest breath of these almost imperceptible promptings.22 Ah, but it is hard to find this track of the divine in the midst of this life we lead, in this besotted humdrum age of spiritual blindness, with its architecture, its business, its politics, its men!2J The realization that God is active in all that happens at every moment is the deepest knowl-edge we can have in this life of the things of God?4 ~°Jn 6:68. 2~Julian of Norwich: Showings. trans. Edmond Colledge, O.S.A., and James Walsh, S.J., Classics of Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1978). p. 337. 2~Abandonment to Divine Providence, p. 81. ~Steppenwolf, p. 35. 24Abandonment to Divine Providence, p. 117. 1611 / Review for Religious, March-Apri!, 1982 Creation is God's presence to us in beauty; the cross is God's presence to us in our brokenness and twistedness.2~ God's creative and redemptive power is at work wherever there is life. Whether or not a given individual responds to that presence is dependent upon the working of grace and freedom. The point is that God is always working. John's Gospel drives this fact home.26 Accepting this in faith, we. are challenged to become increasingly conscious of divine stirrings deep within our individual lives as well as our communities. Focal awareness, a high intensity consciousness, may not be that frequent, but subsidiary awareness, a sense of a background presence, can become a way of life.27 As our faith deepens we become ever more sensitive to the working of God's Spirit in our minds and hearts. The life story of the grape can provide an image of the discernment captured by the vines and their energy transformed into grapes. Upon. beir~g harvested and crushed, the grape enters into a fermentation process. Through the hidden work-ings of bacteria surrounded by proper temperatures, darkness and sugars, the grapes are converted into wine. So, too, in our spiritual journey, the need for ongoing conversion is a constant call and is made possible through the perennial movements of God in our innermost being. The sourness of the unredeemed areas of our inner life are turned into the succulent sweetness of a life of union. In her sensitive allegory Hinds' Feet on High Places, Hannah Hurnard has us journey with the main character Much-Afraid through a fermentation process that eventually results in "much-trust." At first our heroine is enslaved by fear, oppressed by human respect, devoid of joy. Gradually she begins to sense the stirrings of grace within her soul. God's promptings lead Much-Afraid into free, dom and then on to acts of courage. Her story is symbolic of all those enslaved by fear. Her liberation in grace is greatly aided by an exercise that could well become the model for many: To this place she was in the habit of going very early every morning to meet Him and learn His wishes and commands for the day, and again in the evening to give her report on the day's work.28 Such conversation and accountability enrich the discerning heart. 2~John Shea, Stories of God: An Unauthorized Biography (Chicago, II1.: Thomas More Association, 1978), p. 152. ~Jn 6. 271n an essay entitled "The study of Man," Michael Polanyi writes: "We may say that when we com-prehend a particular set of items as parts of a whole, the focus of our attention is shifted from the hitherto uncomprehended particulars to the understanding of their joint meaning. This shift of attention does not make us lose sight of the particulars, since one can see a whole only by seeing its parts, but it changes altogether the manner in which we are aware of the particulars. We become aware of them now in terms of the whole on which we have fixed our attention. I shall call this a subsidiary awareness of the particulars, by contrast to a focal awareness which would fix attention on the particulars in themselves, and not as parts of a whole. (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1959), pp. 29-30. 28Hannah Hurnard, Hinds' Feet on High Places (Old Tappan, New Jersey: Fleming H. Revell Com-pany, 1973), p. 13. Principles of Discernment / 169 6. Discernment respects the nature of time and is willing to wait freely for a decision that has need of clarification, detachment and magnanimity. Ligfitning and thunder require time, the light of the stars requires time, deeds require time even after they are done, before they can be seen and heard,z9 Simply by making us wait he increases our desire, which in turn enlarges the capacity of our soul,/naking it able to receive what is to be given usP0 The poet contrasts us in our waiting and in our going ahead. For those who take initiative into their own hands, either in the atheism of pride or in the atheism of despair, the words are weary, faint, and exhausted. The inverse comes with waiting: renewed strength, mounting up, running, walking. But that is in waiting. It is in receiving not grasping, in inheriting and not possessing, in praising and not seizing. It is in knowing that initiative has passed from our hands and we are safer for it.3~ Many of the Lord's parables deal with the notions of time and waiting. One of these tells of the necessity of being ready for the master's return from the wedding feast.32 Happy for those who are awake and prepared for the unexpected. Fear, weariness and even impatience are moods that threaten our call to decide to respond to God's call. Milton's "they also serve who. only stand and wait" expresses a situation that only the most courageous can accept. Timing in decision-making is most subtle; in'deed, God's time (kairos) is often not our time (chronos). A basic guideline in the spiritual life is that we "act on our clarities." When things are too muddy we wait, however painful that may be. Without expecting a certi-tude or clarity that is unrealistic, we gradually 'become comfortable with that faith fact that seeking and waiting can be as meritorious and grace-filled as finding. The important thing is that God's will be done.33 Telephone companies provide a service by which a person can find out the correct time by dialing a certain number. Wo~uld that our inner seasons were as clear as our chronological time frame! It is hard to discern in winter when dor-mancy and coldness immobilize our hearts. People are counseled never to make decisions of major import when depressed; it is simply the wrong time. No~" should decisions be made when romanticism sweeps through the heart blinding the indi-vidual to the shadow side of life. We discern on level ground, not on the peaks nor in the valleys. The correct time is known more through intuition than rational deduction--we sense discernment more than figure it out. The phone number locates us and orientates us according to the sun; discernment provides bearings in reference to a much brighter Light. Shakespeare's King Lear provides an excellent example of timing and dis-cernment. The king was aging and decided to distribute his property and wealth among his daughters, each being given a share in proportion to her profession of mPeter Berger, A Rumor of Angels (New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc., 1969), p. I I. 3°Thomas H. Green. S.J., When the Well Runs Dry (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press, 1979), p. 113. 3*Walter Brueggemann, The Prophetic Imagination (Philadelphia, PA: Fortress Press, 1978), pp. 78-79. J~Lk 12:35-40. 17t) / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 love for her father. Not only was Lear unwise in his standard of division, he was misguided in his time. The consequence was eventual insanity and death. Dis-cernment demands a standard, one based on knowledge of reality and deep faith. Discernment demands awareness of the Lord's timing. Until that surfaces we wait, trusting that the Lord will show us his plan. Detachment allows us to accept whatever is asked; magnanimity provides room to welcome whatever is given. Discernment needs much grace and graciousness. 7. Discernment is a gift which comes to those who are properly attuned through obedience and surrender. In everything else, this soul will preserve a perfect liberty, always ready to obey the stirrings of grace the moment it becomes aware of them, and to surrender itself to the care of providence.34 When a soul has reached the third stage, the love of friendship and filial love, her love is no longer mercenary. Rather she does as very close friends do when one receives a gift from the other. The receiver does not just look at the gift, but at the heart and the love of the giver, and accepts and treasures the gift only because of the friend's affectionate IoveP~ The hearing of God's Word requires complete self-surrender.36 The Annunciation narrative in Luke's GospeP7 presents Mary in a perplexing situation. Her future with Joseph had been determined; plans were made; impor-tant decisions were set in motion. Suddenly God breaks into the "best-laid schemes o' mice an' men." What is to be done? To whom does one listen? What price the surrender of one's will to the call of God? This biblical account gives us a classic example of discernment. The divine will summons and history hangs in balance. Though struggling with fear and the unknown, Mary discerns the voice of the Lord and in prompt obedience and generous surrender commits her life to the providence of her God. That gift of discernment was rooted in her identity as the handmaid of the Lord. Mary knew who she was and it was from that giftedness of her graced filled life that such an extravagant and total response poured forth from her heart. A hearing aid is a grea't blessing for those individuals for whom deafness is an encroaching reality. This technical device helps restore the precious gift 6f hearing. One can once again listen to a variety of sounds and calls and through surrender render personal obedience. Physical listening has its counterpart in the spiritual realm, as does deafness. Often we do not hear. Sometimes this is a matter of choice, sometimes a matter of circumstance. Regardless, we fail to discern the words and movements of the Lord because the gift of discernment has not been activated. Hearing aids can be adjusted, even turned off. When God asks what is a~Julian of Norwich: Showings. pp. 195-196. ~Abandonment to Divine Providence, p. 88. J~Catherine of Siena, The Dialogues, trans, and introd. Suzanne Noffke, O.P., Classics of Western Spirituality (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), p. 134. ~6Meister Eckhart, t~ans. Raymond B. Blakney INew York: Harper Torchbooks, 1941), p. 33. ~TLk 1:26-38. Principles of Discernment / 171 demanding or unpleasant we can unconsciously or blatantly turn from his sum-mons and fail to respond. Here we see that the discernment process has'high mutuality: the call and gift from God, thefree response of obedience and surrender from the human person. God respects our freedom too much to force a response. Gradually it becomes evident that discernment isnot just one gift among many: it is a crucial gift determining~destinies. Story of a Soul, the autobiography of St. Therese of Lisieux, is a candid revelation of a deep love relationship. Surrender and obedience were qualities that gave constant direction to the saint's life; these dispositions opened her to the gift of discernment. Therese realized that Christian living demanded not only recogni-tion of what is to be done but also the actual doing: As little birds learn to sing by listening to their parents, so children learn the science of the virtues, the sublime song of Divine Love from souls responsible for forming them.3~ Authentic discernment moves from listening to virtue. God uses many interme-diaries (parents, teachers, friends, "enemies") to both proclaim his message and model a response. In this environment the gift of~ discernment takes root. Therese's being was receptive to the stirrings of grace. The song of divine love was. heard, the r~esponding melody was also one of deep love. 8. Discernment happily blends faith and pragmatism: it searches out God's will in radical trust and does it. The People of God believes that it is led by the Spirit of the Lord. who fills the earth. Motivated by this faith, it labors to decipher authentic signs of God's presence and purpose in the happenings, needs, and desires in which this People has a part along with other men of our age. For faith throws a new light on everything, manifests God's design for man's total vocation, and thus directs the mind to solutions which are fully human)9 The will certainly seems to me to be united ir~ some way with the will of God; but it is by the effects of this prayer and the actions which follow it that the genuineness of the experience must be tested and there is no better crucible for doing so than this.'~ Every activity is related to good and evil twice over: by its performance and by its principle.4~ While teaching one day,~2 Jesus was interrupted when some men, carrying their paralyzed friend and lowering him through the roof, ingeniously got' ev-eryone's attention. The story is familiar; two things ~hould be noted for ohr pur-pose. These men had a deep faith in Jesus. They truly believed that this teacher had power and concern. Second!y,~their faith was active. They expended much energy JsStor), of a Soul." the Autobiography of St. Therese of Lisieux. trans. John Clarke, O.C.D. (Washing-ton, D.C.: ICS Publications, 1975), p. 113. 3gThe Documents of Vatican II, p. 209. 4°The Complete Works of St. Theresa of Jesus. ed. and trans. E. Allison Peers (London: Sheed & Ward, 1944), 2:238. 4~ The Simone Well Reader, p. 292. 42Lk 5:17-26. 172 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 and subtle creativity.in allowing t.heir faith,filled hearts to be nourished by divine healing. Both their trust and activity were rewarded in the cure of their friend. Discernment is both relational and functional; it is contemplative and active; it is faith-filled and pragmatic. The contemporary concern for integration is similar to the ever present call to discernment. A person of true discernment is integral. No false dichotomy here: action must be consequent to principle. Grounded in deep faith discernment pushes from below; drawn into active response discernment calls us forth to be agents of change. ¯ H20 is the chemical formula describing our precious gift of water. The blend-ing of these two elements produces a substance necessary for life. Hydrogen without oxygen fails to give us our refreshing liquid and vice versa. So in the spiritual domain: faith without action is dead; action without faith loses its ulti-mate significance. The water of the spiritual life is the grace of discernment; its basic elements are faith and deed. Depending upon the developmental phases of the community or individual, the w~ight will shift more towards faith, more towards action according to the level of maturity and the needs of the people. Here we realize that. spiritual laws are much more subtle than those of nature. In his journal entitled Markings, Dag Hammarskjold records the diverse movements of his inner life. We come to realize that this inter:national figure, busy with multiple responsibilities of the United Nations, had a very well developed and nurtured spiritual life. He speaks often of faith; he notes the importance of action. One passage will suffice: We act in faith--and miracles occur. In consequence, we are tempted to make the miracles the ground for our faith. The cost of such weakness is that we lose the confidence of faith, Faith is. faith creates, faith carries. It is not derived from, nor created, nor carried by anything except it~ own reality.4J The mixture is right; the roots of the tree blossom forth through the branches carrying and bringing much life. Discernment makes this possible. 9. Discernment looks to consequences for its authenticity: decisions are of God if ultimately leading to life and love. I am quite sure that no one will be deceived in this way for long if he has a gift for the discernment of spirits and if the Lord has given him true humility: such a person will judge the~e spirits by their fruits and their resolutions and their love.'~ To estimate the worth of a spiritual decision, we thus have three criteria at our disposal: the authenticity of our union with God, the unity of the different elements of our being, the cohesion which our action assumes in relation to ourselves, .to others and to the world,aS The work of love not only heals the roots of sin, but nurtures practical goodness. When it is authentic you will be sensitive to every need and respond with a generosity unspoiled by 4~Dag Hammarskjold, Markings (N~w York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. 1966), p. 145. ~The Complete Works of St. Theresa of Jesus, 1:378. 4SFrancois Roustang, S.J., Growth in the Spirit. trans. Kathleen Pond (New York: Sheed & Ward. 1966), p. 122. Principles of Discernment / 173 selfish intent. Anything you attempt to do without this love will certainly be imperfect, for it is sure to be marred by ulterior motives.46 Authentic Christian living results in action and explicit concern. Jesus draws our attention to the fig tree that is rich in foliage but devoid of fruit.47 For a hungry person the fruitless fig tree is worthless, we discern its worth in this case by whether or not it achieves its essential destiny. In our spiritual journey discernment is tested by the effects of our action and the concomitant affectivity. Does our activity give life, i.e., does it foster an increase of love, joy and peace? Or do our actions lead to death, i.e., apathy, sadness and anxiety? Discernment registers at the deepest level of our humanity--in our guts! We come to sequester that which nurtures from that which enervates. As in economic affairs so in spiritual matter we come to the bottom line: the financial world looks to profit/loss and the spiritual world looks to life/death. The stethoscope allows medical personnel to become attuned to the inner physiological movements of the patient. The trained ear can evaluate the proper functionings or pathological stirrings of vital organs. What the naked eye has no way of knowing, the ear with the aid of the stethoscope can easily ascertain, Discernment is a process of listening to the stirrings of the many different spirits constantly at work within the complexity of our lives. A good spiritual director intuitively senses how our life-style and motivational field is impacting on the inner terrain. If congruence is sensed, then God's word is tak~ing root and bearing proper fruit. If there is dissonance, then dialogue is in order to understand where it is coming from. This is no easy task. The movements of the spirit are mixed and often ambiguous. At times God's word will cause dissonance while the work of the evil spirit causes apparent harmony. These uncharted waters make us hesitate and call out for help from a good spiritual navigator! Sophie's Choice, a novel by Willim Styron, narrates the many decisions thata young woman had to make in very dire circumstances. The choice of letting either her son or daughter be sent to the gas chambers is symbolic of the horrendous decisions that confront the human spirit~ Throughout ttiis novel we witness people making choices and dealing with the powerful effects that shape their destinies. These effects basically fall on one or other side of the line: life or death. Sad to say, most of the decisions were not life-affirming~ Any good novel is essentially a study of discernment from an experiential point of view. Situations arise, choices are made, life or death follows. No one is exempt from dealing with the script of his or her own life. The process is universal. Grace is necessary if we are to discern wisely and act with courage. 10. Discernment leads to truth and, through truth, into freedom. The very word "truth" filled my heart with enthusiasm. The beauty of the word shone in my 46The Cloud of Unknowing and the Book of Privy Counseling. ed. William Johnston (New York: Doubleday Image Book, 1973). p. 64. "1"/4 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 eyes like a spiritual sun dispelling all shadows--those of ignorance, of error, of deceit, even those of iniquity, which is an error of measure and a lie. "Knowing the truth"--a pleonasm. With truth there is already knowing, as there is reality and being. To think the word "truth" is to assume a spiritual faculty, in which alone truth can be found. It is to assume the capacity of such a spiritual faculty to conform itself to being, to reality, in order within itself to produce the truth. It is also to raise the question of knowing whether such a faculty exists,as And ira will of iron represents one aspect of the liberated soul, flexibility and detachment of spirit represent a complementary aspect. To obey the inspirations of grace moment by moment, t9 adjust oneself readily to the promptings of a living Master, is a task which demands the glorious liberty that is the high prerogative of the sons of God.49 But at this moment I came upon myself. Previously I had existed, too, but everything had merely happened to me. Now I happened to myself~ Now I knew: I am myself now, now I exist. Previ~ausly I had been willed to do this and that; now I willed.~° God's w~)rd calls us to truth and freedom. Mary Magdalene wandered in the garden in deep dejection because her master and friend was dead.5~ Death appeared to have had the final say and such news caused enslavement to fear and depression. Then the experience of the Lord! The truth is exposed: sin and death are overcome by the cross and resurrection. God's fidelity and power are everlast-ing. The bond of sin is broken; the sting of death destroyed. With this truth came freedom, a freedom overflowing into joy. Mary sees and is able to act. This narrative helps us to see that the gift of discernment brings vision and responsibil-ity. In recognizing the risen Lord we contact reality; in being graced, we become gracious. Through the word of God we deepen our sense of identity and mission. This process allows us to find meaning which allows for motivation, enabling us to risk the use of time and energy in new and creative ways.'For Mary, Jesus was the truth that leads to freedom; for Mary, his person allowed proper discernment. Scientists use two instruments in their work of discovery and invention that are, by nature, tools of discernment, the microscope and telescope. With awe and wonder, we use the microscope to probe cellular structures revealing the deep patterns of life; with anticipation and excitement; we find the telescope pulling us into galaxies undreamt of by our ancestors. Gifted with such tools we come to know invisible worlds and incredible spaces. The spiritual realm is no less astound-ing. With the tools of subtle interior silence and perceptive wisdom we scan the vast plan of God's creative love. Such dispositions are crucial in coming to know truth and to exercise our freedom. Discernment falters amidst noises; it is blinded and cannot know what is pleasing to God. Discernment is seeing, a seeing that leads to freely doing the truth in love. Lavrans Bjorgulfson, speaking to his wife, says: "I know not. You are so strange--and all you have said tonight. 1 was afraid, Ragnfrid. Like enough 1 47Mk I 1:12-14. ~8Raissa Maritain, We Have Been Friends Together (New York: Green and Co., 1942), p. 80. agE. Herman. Creative Prayer (Cincinnati. Ohio: Forward Movement Publications, n.d.), p. 79. 50C. G. Jung, Memories. Dreams. Reflections. ed. by Aniela Jaffe and trans. Richard and Clara Winston (New York: Vintage Books, 1965). pp. 32-33. ~Jn 20:11-18. Principles of Discernment / 175 understand not the hearts of women."~2 In Sigrid Undset's Kristin Lavransdatter, we witness the tragedy of ignorance and the paralyzing power of fear that follows. Lavrans, a good man, does not understand the heart of his wife, Ragnfrid, nor that of his daughter, Kristin. Their loves were mysteries to him and, lacking proper discernment of the movements of their hearts, the tortuous pain of misunderstand-ing was bound to follow. The truth of the heart is a special knowledge all its own. Only when the heart is "informed" and well-known do the waters of freedom flow. Principles clash with the particulars of life. Helpful as they might be, life is lived in experience, not reflection. Yet we need to step back ever so ~ften for perspective and meaning. Hopefully this essay has fulfilled that task. My only hope is that these pages have realized the mandate oncegivEn by Emily Dickinson: Tell all the Truth but tell it slant-- Success in Circuit lies Too bright for our infirm Delight The Truth's superb surprise As Lightning to the Children eased With explanation kind The Truth must dazzle gradually Or every man be blind-- ~2Sigrid Undset, Kristin La,;ransdatter, I The Bridal Wreath, trans. Charles Archer and J. C. Scott (New York: Bantam Books; 1976); p. 232. Pope John Paul II to Jesuit Superiors, February 27, 1982i In fact, a special bond binds your Society to the Roman Pontiff, the Vicar of Christ oft earth . St. Ignatius and his companions., attached capital importance to this bond of love and service to the Roman Pontiff, so much so that they wished this "special vow" to be a characteristic: element of the Society . It is evident that here we are touching upon the essence of the lgnatian charism and upon that which lies at the very heart of your order. And it is to this that you must always always remain faithful. Prayer and Regression John O'Regan, O.M.I. Father O'Regan's "Unavailability as Poverty" appeared in the issue of July, 1981. His address is: 37 Woniora Road; P.O. Box 70; Hurstville, Australia 2220. i~|he~' wish to return to childhood is, in most instances, a regressive wish--a desire to abrogate adult responsibilities, and to return to a.state of dependence. But this wish may also have another aspect. To seek after the spontaneity and freedom of the secure child is a different matter and may, perhaps, be what is meant by the saying of Christ: 'Except ye be converted and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.' This is no regression to childishness, but rather, an advance to such security and freedom with our fellowmen that we can be whatever we are and allow them to be the same."~ Scripture scholars may disagree with psychiatrist Storr's understanding of Matthew 18, but the general drift of his meaning is clear and points to an under-standing of scriptural childness that may assist us in our understanding of prayer~ Of course it is quite possible to have regressive prayer and it shows up in many subtle ways. The prayer of the "good Lord" who is a distant, benign, undemanding and wholly pardoning God is surely a childish way of boxing God into a conve-nient category. The prayer that makes one feel good and somehow seals out the rough and tumble of life is also a childish thing, for it is based on the pleasure principle and we asgume it is good because it makes us feel good, An altogether inistaken notion of spiritual consolation can easily have us thinking that good prayer is always less than painful. There are many variants of regressive prayer that one may use: here we have a general look at the possibility of regression and the proper form of childness that makes prayer authentic. ~The Integrity of Personality. A. Storr (Pelican: Middlesex, 1970), pp, 60-61. Prayer and Regression / 177 Time and Timing Many state that prayer cannot be programmed--that it arises spontaneously and when we feel we need it, we need it. Much can be said in praise of this as long as it is properly understood. Prayer as a habitual state of dependence on God and prayer as the more privileged moments of closeness to God--irrelevant prayer as Father Green calls it2--must be distinguished. The religious whose life is fully given over to God will surely see the need for stated times for formal prayer. Such prayer is often called lower case prayer, while the lifelong attitude of being given over to God gets a capitalized P for Prayer. The reverse may equally be the case, but for the purpose of this article we will stay with this distinction. Thus the religious whose prayer is clear will be bound to find times for prayer and these times will surely manage to have their own rhythm. And we, being creatures ofhabit, will find that such rhythms will be predictable. So that some form of programming will assert itself. Some of us are morning people and like to start the day with a stretch of prolonged prayer. Others are night people and feel more at home with God at that time. Each one to one's own preference here. The point at issue is that the natural rhythm of life itself will surely dictate a style and timing of prayer that will not be left to chance, still less to mood. Thus to pray when one "feels like it" may lead us into strife if that is the only criterion for prayer. Ruysbroeck, the Flemish mystic, has the idea of the indrawing and outpouring of God's grace in us: the same imagery may be applied to prayer. We indraw in prayer and we outpour in prayer. This means the withdrawal-involvement rhythm, while not needing the regularity of a metronome, will have its own inner impera-tive and clock for each of us. The harmony between contemplation and apostolic love (Perfectae caritatis n. 5) is still a task for all of us and we must always work at it. It seems to at least imply that this task (and gift) cannot be left to whim or mood: such a standard would indeed be childish. This of course is not to say that some people may find a long weekend of prayer somehow manages to suit them: all of this is assuredly matter for honest discernment. The well. may run dry rather easily and the land may become parched. For those o~" us whose moods have a sudden~and broad swing, the well and land may easily run dry or parched almost unknown to us. The length of time and the actual time for prayer are important factors when we take our religious commitment seriously. Time Spent At times there may be a veritable fissure in our lives: what we declare we are and what we in fact are, are often light years apart. We may have a fundamental falseness running right through our lives and manage to survive some way or another. Thus we may spend long hours at prayer and not have its influence felt in 2Opening to God. T.H. Green (Ave. Maria Press, IN, 1977). 1711 / Review for Religious, March-ApriL 1982 our lives or at best allow its impact to be unhealthily muffled. Father Maurice Lefebre, killed in Boliva in the service of the poor, said that "because we live a lie, the truths we bring make no headway." This division between prayer and life--between prayer and Prayer--is surely a result of seeing prayer as a regressive retreat from the harsh and dreadful things that living for love of God and others really means. It is a womblike withdrawal that marks the overdone need for security from the cross that life is bound to hew for each of us who claims to be a follower of Christ. We all know of the piously impatient religious who brooks no interruption of his prayer, no matter what the demands may be from those he is serving. Fair enough: we should try to set up a little poustinia for our prayer-time but to see every interruption on this chosen retreat as an encroachment on our time "with God" is not an adult response, but a petulant reaction. Such a prayer has all the marks of childishness. One is here reminded of Jose Ortega y Gasser3 when he ponders on Commander Peary's day's polar trek with his team of dogs. After a hard day's mushing towards the north, he found at evening that he was much further south than when he started off in the morning! He has been working all day northwards on an immense iceberg being taken to the south by a strong ocean current. Hard times and long hours at prayer that are effectively isolated from life may give the impression of much progress. But the context of this kind of prayer must be taken into account lest we have a disconnected life of prayer, removed from the prayer of life. Like Peary's hard day's toil on the iceberg, much movement did not mean any progress at all -- even the reverse! The child is very much his or her own person with a great deal of emphasis on how he sees life. His childish optics give reality meaning that is not always geared to the givenness of reality itself. His childish templet thrown over reality effectively screens out some of its harsher aspects and amplifies its more congenial qualities so that much of his little life is essentially idiosyncratic. Much of his reality lacks consensual validation---effective checking out by way of feedback is too much bother for him. So that a prayer life that is removed too comfortably from the painful course of life is a childish kind of demiolife. As Augustine put it:: we may make many strides, but all outside the course. Dabar This prayer/life dichotomy is always with us. Only in Jesus were word and deed perfectly and positively corelated and all we do is strive to lessen the abyss that exists for us between what we profess we are and we in fact live. Herbert, the English poet, caught the idea beautifully when he wrote Doctrine and life--colors and light in one, When they combine and mingle, bring A strong regard and awe: JMeditations on Quixote, .I. OrtEga y Gasser (Norton: New York. 1961). p. 104. Prayer and Regression But speech alone doth vanish like a flaring thing, And in the ears, not conscience ring. Doctrine--what we believe and say we are, and life--how we actually incarnate this--must be together, like colors and light. Speech alone, outward show and mere protestation, means little and touches no one's conscience. So that while we try to bridge the gap between doctrine and life, we must be ever aware that it is all too easy to allow the gap to widen. Being Christlike, adopting the mind and heart of Christ will always be an imperative for us, and we must ever be ready to "live the truth in love" (Ep 4:15). This living, or "truthing"--- making word and deed more closely aligned in our lives, is an adult task. It is not for children--they must come a long way to be able to shoulder this project. In us adults, this cleavage between word and deed keeps us humbly on our toes and saves us from arrogance. It is only when we become unaware of this split-level living that we have cause for alarm. Filial Posture Prayer's paradigm has been given us once and for all by Jesus when in response to a disciple's request, "Lord, teach us to pray, as John taught his disciples," he said to them, "When you pray, say: Father." (Lk 11:i-4). It need hardly be said that the assumption is that the disciple was inspired when he saw Jesus praying "in a certain place." This anonymous disciple, seeing Jesus praying nowhere in particular, may be seen archetypically: we are that disciple and the nameless place may just as easily be seen in the same light, for we have to pray always and everywhere (see Ep 5:20; 6:18-19). Jesus is a model of prayer for us not just because he prayed regularly or had an unwavering prayer schedule. In Luke's gospel, he prays in practically every third chapter~ but in Mark's gospel, as scholars tell us, his early morning rising for prayer (i:35) is a typical day in the life of Jesus. But such visible expressions of prayer are but the observable expression of the inner disposition of a Man whose whole being is given over to God. He was not just driven to his knees as in the Mount of Olives (Lk 24:41-44) when the pressure was on: he prayed always and prayed formally on regular occasions. It was the inner oblation of his whole being that gave rise to these intense moments of close union with the Father. He was always addressing the Father and he here tells us that we must have the same filial posture when we come to pray. When we come before God for the more privileged moments of closeness to him (despite the apparent absence we may experience in these moments of apparent closeness) we must come with the filial gesture of "Abba," Father. This cordial posture must be the basis and ground of our prayer, giving it its tone, direction and content. In this word of daring intimacy, "Abba," we come to God with all the confidence of a child and the undeviating trust shown by God's Son. "Abba" Some writers have almost drooled over this term of piety and have given it a "11~1~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 sentimental flavoring that does no justice to the deep connotation it is meant to have. Terms like "Pappa," "Dad" and the like have been suggested. But the term refuses to bear this lightweight meaning. Apart from familiar uses of the word children use to address their fathers, and beneath it all, there is the deep sense of dependence and trust that gives rise to the closeness of the bond binding child and father. A father may engage in rough and tumble fun with his children, and the little ones delight in it. In the process they may get bumps and even scratches and there is not even a whimper. If these "wounds" were sustained in play with siblings, there would often be a far different reaction--tears and tantrums and the need for succor. But the child's utter trust in the goodness of the father is ,the rubric under which little aches and pains don't matter much, for the little one's unbounded trust makes all safe and sound in the affectionate ambience of a father's loving care. It is interesting to note that the child has been seen in different ways over the centuries. Time was when he was viewed as a miniature adult, and not a growing person in his own right. He was an adult-in-the-making, so what was good for the adult was good for the child. This gave rise to the assumption that the child saw, felt and judged as did the adult, so that education was getting him to sit still while adults instilled adult lore into his little head. Again the child was (and possibly still is) viewed as born in utter innocence and is tainted by contact with adults. This romantic anthropology seems to have a second inning in transactional analysis with its grossly overrated "child" state. This idyllic state seems at the mercy of interfering and imperious "adult" states. The truth of the child, like the truth of adults, is light and shade. Children are far from being only the cuddlesome angels of nappie commercials, and the endless and undiluted joy they appear to give to adoring mothers is plainly fiction. A child with its bundle of impulses with monumental rages can terrify even a hardy mother, who may easily want to vent her frustration on this demanding little tyrant who is so messily incontinent so much of the time. The incessant demands for neverending attention--the price of survival for the little one, makes life for the dedicated mother quite hectic for most of the time. For dependency is the hallmark of the little child, and his attachment to his mother for all his needs is close to being a symbiotic relationship. Apart from the child's survival, the groundwork for its wholesome sense of worth and goodness about himself is laid in this period of utter dependence: Not only the quantity of time and output of nurturing love but the very quality of this loving attention has so much to do with the kind of person the child will grow up to be. Childhood thus at this stage, is a state of absolute and almost one-way dependency, with little or no effective control or management on the child's part. Surely this image of the child has little to do with the childness that is meant to be our basic praying posture. The wish to return to childhood and to alleged lost innocence is surely a regressive wish and a desire to escape adult responsibilities in an effort to reestab-lish utter dependence. Such a desire, while not always on the level of full aware-ness, is fraught with secret urges to get back to a stage when all was well and no Prayer and Regression / 1111 pressm:es were experienced. In a deep symbolic manner, this is a wish to reenter the womb with its safe and secure amniotic protection. It is a yearning for a prepersonal stage where relationships do not need to be worked at and where needs were superabundantly granted in immediate supplies. It may be likened to a wish to become absolutely recipient to all desires and wants--to be the more or less content receiver of a bountiful providence. The kind of struggle that Paul says must attend our prayer, is anathema to this mentality and the perceptive notion of St. Thomas--that we are non solum provisi sed providentes, is rejected out of hand. St. Thomas was saying that God's fatherly care is so good that he invites us to share in his providential care: we are, he states, not just provided for; we are, in fact, coproviders. Father A certain style of diction in spirituality easily lends itself to this kind of regres-sive attitude. The "Good Lord" address-system to God fosters (wittingly or no) this kind of misplaced benevolence: he looks conveniently the other way from our aberrations and closes a grandfatherly eye when we sin. This is a God Who is not supposed to make demands and offers discipleship on the cheap. It is a God whose Son was not wholly in earnest when he laid down the cost of discipleship in totally inconvenient, uncompromising and uncomfortable terms (see Mk 8:31-38; 9:30-32; 10:32-45) and made stern demands of those who answered his call. Following him meant much more than the immediate disciples were ready to pay for they latched on to the "glory" aspect of the Messiah and refused to face the cross: be delivered, condemned, delivered to the Gentiles, mocked, spat upon, scourged, killed. Self-denial, taking up one's cross and follow-ing him are not exertions one expects of a child. They are adult commands and Christianity is for adults. While all of these directives come from a God who is love and who loves us without measure, he does not love us out of, but into suffering or pain or dilemmas. His attitude is a far cry from the "Good Lord" spirituality who gives all but expects nothing in return. Such an undisturbing deity makes for fascinating study of the adult who would want such a convenient Father. Other such possibly misleading ideas come from a notion of a God who holds us in the palm of his hand and whose massive palm cradles a sleeping babe. Such kitsch theology and art may serve a purpose and does have some merit', but it also fosters a kind of childishness that is not helpful in our faithgrowth. Isaiah 49 does speak of being held in his hand, and such an image has powerful evocations. But the infant in the palm goes a little much in the "childish" direction. Paul's "strain-ing forward" (Ph 3:13) and Ephesians' final admonition with its strongly martial tone (Ep 6:10-20) makes unrelenting effort the mark of the true disciple. "To that end keep alert with all perseverance," having on the breastplate, feet shod with the gospel of peace~ the helmet of salvation, the shield of faith, the sword of the Spirit. (Ep 4:14-18). This is the opposite direction to regression, in fact an honest progres-sion to a more mature humanity (Ep 4:13) that leaves behind the things of a child (1 Co 13:il). 1~1~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 Childhood: Recovery? In what sense then may we see childness as a faithful image or symbol for prayer? Surely the sense of dependency must enter as well as the sense of freedom. Anthony Storr (op. cir.) says that: "To seek after the spontaneity and freedom of the secure child is a different matter (from regression) and may perhaps be what is meant in the saying of Christ: 'Except ye be converted and become as little children ye shall not enter the kingdom of heaven' "(Mt 18:3). Storr sees the freedom and spontaneity of childhood as a decided advance rather than a stepping back. But this is hardly enough. The scriptural idea of freedom is, as are many scriptural themes, set in paradox. "Live as free men," we read in I P 2:16, "yet without using your freedom as a pretext for evil: but live as servants of God." If freedom is a keynote of Christianity, then we would have to understand it aright. In Christ and in Paul, freedom and bondage are reconciled. Jesus is seen as the self-emptying servant, whose utter abasement was the occasion and condition of his abiding freedom in unique exaltation. Kolb notes that Certain aspects of the personality may be arrested in their maturing process, with the result that a full and harmonious development never occurs. By.an anxiety-evading mechanism known as regression, the personality may suffer loss of some development already retained and reverting to a lower level of integration, adaption and expression. The retreat to a lower level of personality development is characterized by immature patterns of thought, emotion or behavior? It is not an uncommon happening that when a child gets a new baby brother or sister, and sees all attention of parents leave him for the new arrival he may begin to baby talk all over again and even wet the bed. He regresses to these earlier developmental stages so as to endeavor to recover the attention he had before the birth of his sibling. This is not necessarily pathological and in fact we all resort to nightly regres-sion when we sleep and dream. We let go of our hold on reality, bypass the world of logic, cause-and-effect, space and time and drift into a world of unrealistic ~antasy. This nightly spell of regression is a refreshing and even essential pause to enable us to face the morrow with a fair amount of poise.5 Most of the so-called mental illnesses include more or less severe regression but regression in itself is not an illness. When it goes beyond the level of efficiency and hinders effective relations with others, it is presumed to be unusual. The point of all this is to ask ourselves the question on prayer: is it possible to see ourselves in some regressed childish state when we say "Abba" to God? Before ~3od we may at times feel utterly useless and worthless. Our utter helplessness may even create the impression that once again we are back to a stage of childhood that 4Modern Clinical Psychology. Laurence C. Kolb (W.B. Saunders Company: Phil. 1977). p. 110. ~Personality Development and Psychopathology: Norman Cameron (Houghton Mifflin Co.: Boston. 1963), passim. Ch. 6. Prayer and Regression can in fact be childishness. God is a loving Father, to be sure, but an omnipotent God as well. Jesus is the Father's love made flesh for us, but he is Jesus just the same and our best efforts to "put him on" fall pitifully short. Faced with this kind of relationship, it is not possible to see a childish posture as somehow appealing. We may somehow cringe into littleness and close to nothingness and this is surely a childish regression. If we are to grow in moral reasoning and faith-living, then regression seems out. It is possible that our religious "life" lags painfully behind our general personality growth and thus makes for a stunted growth all round. Does it not seem better to see our religion as one for adults and only inchoa-tively for children? Is the Father-child paradigm used misleadingly, or is it a fact that we are simply engaged in child-talk when we come to pray? These are serious questions. I wish here to offer an understanding of childness that includes regres-sion but in a wholesome manner. Growing Regression In regression, the bonds with reality are loosened and we are in a world where logic and reason as we know them do not hold sway. Time and space evaporate, so we in fantasy flit from Disneyland to Shangri La and back again in a trice. Logical connections no longer bind and we are in a Walter Mitty world of make-believe. This kind of thinking and fantasying is called "primary process thinking" by Freud. One of his pupils, Ernst Kris6 followed up this idea and noted the intrusion of primary process thinking in art, humor and other creative mental functionings. Kris called this ego-controlled regression, or regression in the service of the ego, Kris noted that such regression has two phases: first, a rather passive phase when "the subjective experience is that of a flow of thought and images driving towards expression" (p. 59). He was careful to state that we must distinguish this from the second phase--creativity, "in which the ego controls the primary process and puts it into its service." This is clearly not the psychotic condition in which the ego is overwhelmed by the primary process. Prayer as Regression Kris says the inspirational and elaborational phases are part of the single process that comprises this adaptive regression. In the first stage the person is rather passive while in the second he takes charge and ideas are deliberately worked out and the secondary process involving logic and reality testing predominates. Applying this theory to the childness attitude in prayer, we may see that the beginning phase is one in which we are purely receivers. Prayer, as we know, is gift and all we do is to receive it. But this "regression" stage is but a preliminary one. It is a necessary but surely not sufficient cause for the posture of prayer. For prayer is never a nirvanic thing and demands effort on our part. Here is where phase two ~Psychoanalytic Explorations in Art. Ernst Kris (International Universities Press, N.Y. 1952). 184 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 emerges: having been passive to the grace of prayer we now respond more actively and strivingly. Paul stresses the earnestness and effortful response one must make in prayer when he states in I Th 3:10 that he "offers his prayer to God as earnestly as possible." The intensity of Paul's supplications are underlined to indicate that his is no mere quietistic slumbering in his prayers for those to whom he ministers. (see also 2 Th 5:!3; Rm 15:30-32; Col 4:12). Kecharitomen~ The posture of Mary as outlined in Luke offers a prime example of this two-fold phase in "regressive" prayer. When Mary has been given some clarifica-tion about her mission from the Angel, she said: "Behold I am the handmaid of the Lord" (Lk l:38)--"let it be to me according to your word." She had been given the title Kecharitornenb ("having-been-favored One") indicating that all she was and is now being done to her is grace or gift. Nothing she has done has merited this special visitation and unique grace. The humble virgin bethrothed to a man named Joseph was content to be quietly anonymous and was addressed by the messenger as one to whom all is done. She is purely receptive. She ratifies all this when she states that she is the handmaid (slave) of the Lord, She, the epitome of the Poor of Yahweh, was indeed a child, a helpless one, but God did mighty things to and through her. For all that mighty uplifting she calls herself a "slave." She is ready to receive the word and will of God. Yet that is not all. The way Luke would have us understand the response of Mary removes forever the almost inert caricature of a passive woman--an image the late Paul VI was at pains to dispel in Marialis Cultus~ From the receptive posture of receiving God's word, she is energetically and deliberately poised to do God's bidding. The "let it be to me according to your word" is an anemic rendition of the mind of Luke, It would be better to say that Mary's mind was that her most ardent desire was to seek and do his word. We often forget that the "with haste" of Lk 1:39 used to describe Mary's immediate departure to visit her kinswoman Elizabeth, may also be translated as "with deep pondering." In some way we may see Mary as harmonizing her contemplation and apostolic love (Perfectae Caritatis n. 5). Childness in Prayer This article sought to seek some insights on childhood as a prayer posture that would-,safeguard the maturity of the praying person. Some overenthusiastic preachers in speaking of the "Abba" with which Jewish children address their father, speak of an overdone sentimentalism that does little good for prayer. The notion of childhood evokes many elements in a child that are not in any way appealing. To suggest that we revert to a childhood innocence when we come to pray might seem to .foster an infantilism that inhibits true communion with God and does little to promote our prayer life. The threadbare "where we are shibboleth seems to lose any respectability it ever had as in such a case we have to go back to where we were to pray in this childish manner. The conception of Prayer and Regression / 185 "regression in the service of ego" seems to help here with its two-fold phasing of letting-go and becoming more passive or receptive and then responding in a practical manner by praying earnestly. This kind of "regression" in no way bespeaks immaturity or illness but is the kind of process used by artists in their creative work. Prayer is a work in which we are cocreators with God--we are allowed to share with him in his own inner life and in such a way we are cocreators with him. But this is not an effortless ex nihilo gesture; it is more often than pot hard work. Here is where we work as though it all depended on us. But all the while he is the one who inspired the beginning of the creative effort of prayer and it is due to his prevenient grace that we even dream of praying at all. Today God Spoke to Me Today God spoke to me. He didn't say it was God; I didn't see him; I heard him. It was God. I will never forget what he said-- It was something quietly enormous-- Wait till I tell you. Think of a powerful current on the sea floor. A burst of all-encompassing light shot beyond Jupiter. Music in which I was afloat and wholly dissolved. But that's only what it was like. I want to tell you just what he said. What he said was.was. Oh, the words. I can't remember them, none at all, Except one that swept up all the others in everlasting arms. It said everything. It was Love, Love, Love. Louis Hasley 3128 Wilder Drive South Bend, IN 46615 Currents in Spirituality Trends and Issues in a Secularizing World George Ashenbrenner, S.J. For the third year, Father Aschenbrenner offers a survey of the year in matters spiritual. He continues his apostolate on a national scale, while residing at the University of Scranton; Scranton, PA 18510. This article is the third in a series.1 The first, two years ago, looked at th6 spiritual profile of a decade in a highly summary way, while both last year's article and this present one, less so but still very summarily and selectively, each sketch the landscape of a single year. I owe much to the editor of this journal, for the opportunity of this assignment. The focused effort to observe, to reflect upon and to articulate some of the developing trends and issues in American spirituality has been instructive and rewarding. A word of thanks, too, to some of my readers. 1 have seriously benefited from reactions and suggestions I have received. When you think of it, the year past, even viewed coldly, has been startling. And yet, how fearfully accustomed, and how quickly forgetful, we become. We heard-- and saw--assassination attempts on President Reagan and Pope John Paul 11; the ecstasy, after 444 days of agony, of the freeing of the hostages from Tehran; the ongoing murders in Central America; the endless floods of refugees throughout the world, in Central America, Africa, Thailand; the persistent "small-scale wars," ~See Review for Religious, March, 1980, "Currents in Spirituality: The Past Decade." pp. 196-218; and March, 1981, "Trends of 1980: Some Themes and a Few Specifics," pp. 234-51. 186 Trends and Issues in a Secularizing Worm fully sufficient to keep alive the fear and plausibility of World War 111: the contin-ually escalating number of divorces and abortions across this land of ours; and those few, terrifying nuclear missile mistakes that accompanied the deliberate, quite unmistaken increase of nuclear armaments on the part of the major world powers, and minor powers, too. These events warn both author and reader of an article such as this that life is fragile, and that it may be viewed as very cheap; that evil is very real, and that we may easily get numb to its great, dark mystery; and that faith in God as a search for meaning and as love of the reality of our world is not easy--not easy at all. Obviously this article, following so closely upon two other similar surveys, does a good deal of repeating, presupposing, overlapping because spiritual trends and issues ordinarily do not simply appear and vanish within the narrow purview of a single year. Furthermore, the observing and the commenting remain distinctly the~ perspective and the insight of just one single person's opinion and point of view. And certainly, for this reader of the signs of the times, the four fundamental concerns of last year's article continue to be of paramount importance for all personal and communal spiritual life in the Church today: concern for the possibil-ity of a profound and faithful love, in the face of our culture's penchant for sensational, dramatic, immediate (and short-lived) sensual stimulation; concern for a more refined, a more other-centered, Christian personalism; concern for a shared companionship in faith; and concern for the paschal character and quality of faith, a paschal faith requisite to sustain, for the long haul, realistic, apostolic enthusi-asm.~ Indeed, because the cultural influences at work in these four areas of concern are still very strong, this present article will relate to them in many ways. In coming toward the close of these introductory comments, I would like to relate and distinguish two words of the title: trends and issues. A trend, here, speaks to a pattern of thought or behavior, the evidence for which would be sufficiently widespread to make it more than a local or exceptional occurrence. Whereas, an issue poses alternatives that, ur~less dodged, invite and eventually even demand a choice. And the choice, of course, often incarnates a whole series of values that relate to and reveal the meaning and un.derstanding of the trend. Often, it is through reflection on the trend that issues are discovered. The more valuable work, I feel, is to look as deeply as possible into current trends in American spirituality, with confidence that this exercise will be of assistance to us in facing issues that surface. Many of these issues, it seems to me, do and will continue to need further recognition and clarification before any firm resolution of them is either possible or suitable. Occasionally, however, an issue is so basic, and where one stands on it, where one shouM stand on it, becomes, even early on, so clear and so fundamental to Christian life, that I have not held back from making a clear judgment about the matter in question. And now to some trends and issues at hand. As 1 have traveled about, con- 2See ibid., March, 1981, pp. 235-243. 11111 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 suited, read, given workshops, courses, retreats and spiritual direction this past year, a very dominant, overarching preoccupation and theme, as I reflect on my own experience and listen to the experience of others, is secularity, secularization, secularism. Humfin spiritual life exists only in a world where ongoing pressures come at us, from every side, to secularize all our experience: of ourselves, of one another, and of all aspects of our world. Certainly, there is nothing new about this observation. The matter has been with us for a century, and more. And in very current forms, it has been an overt preoccupation of the religious community in this country at least since Vatican 11. But I believe that its strength as a trend in serious spiritual life continues very much to grow. And so, after looking about me, 1 have chosen to reflect here, at considerable length, on this tendency toward secularization. Following that, I will, more briefly, discuss a number of trends and issues which, whether implicitly or explicitly, whether as cause or consequence or corollary, relate to this central trend of secularization. In general, as I treat these other trends and issues, 1 will leave to the reflection of the reader their precise relationship to the general theme of secularization. Secularization It is not uncommon to divide reality into the sacred and the secular. And though this distinction and its significance can be of immense subtlety and compli-cation, with serious traps for the unwary, we can attempt a simple, hopefully usable description here of these two aspects of reality. John Coleman, using Huston Smith, makes the distinction for us: By the "secular" I mean "regions of life that man understands and controls, not necessarily completely but., for all practical purposes." These are regions toward which humans adopt a basically utilitarian attitude of mastery and control, making judgments on the basis of the technical adequacy of means to achieve stipulated goals) "Secular," then, speaks to a world of human domination, understanding and "control without, at least, any necessary reference to God or appeal to, or nourish-ment from, the experience of faith or of religious affections. Coleman then de-scribes the sacred: By the "sacred" I mean the area of mystery--the incomprehensible, indomitable, and seriously and supremely important; for "the sacred exceeds not only our control but our comprehen-sion." Our characteristic attitudes toward the sacred are all celebration, participatory contem-plation, and gratitude rather than mastery.4 "Sacred," then, points to the reverently mysterious, the awesomely (not problemat-ically) uncontrollable and, for articulated Christian belief, to a living, personal, experienced relationship with God in faith and hope and love. ~John A. Coleman, S.J., Theological Studies, December, 1978, "The Situation for Modern Faith," p. 604, citing Huston Smith, "Secularization and the Sacred,~ in Donald Cutler, ed., The Religious Situation 1969, Boston, 1969, p. 583. 4Coleman, Ioc. cit. citing Huston, art. cit., p. 587. Trends and Issues in a Secularizing Worm / 1119 The tendency toward secularization in a world of human believers is inevitable. It may foster religious faith, or it may corrupt it. The human heart, in this world, however lofty and transcendent its desires may be, is, ought to be, always histori-cal, definite, incarnational. However much travel and communication have mobil-ized us, limitations of space and time still shape our identity. These limits can seem very restrictive and confining. To live in America or Poland or lran as the twen-tieth century closes may seem a paltry destiny, when compared with the space address that may well be among the options of our twenty-third century descen-dants. But these temporal and spatial limits do identify us now and, rather than confining us, can call forth those precise creative responses which will bring about the reality of space living in the future. As human realities, faith and religion must be planted and grow within this world. And so, they, too, are susceptible to time/space limitations. Though faith will always call us beyond the world, its healthy development always lies in vigorous interaction with the world and its daily round of activities. Spirituality is never simply faith; but rather, it is faith's interaction with culture. It therefore grows and incarnates itself precisely through a secularizing process and trend. With its central focus on Jesus of Nazareth, and therefore on incarnation, Christian spirituality not only tolerates but embraces, for the sake of its own existence and development, this secularizing interaction with the culture of a specific people and time. And this secularizing process can positively foster faith, because the kingdom of his Father which Jesus preached and lived, for the people of first century Palestine, was meant to be lived in the world. In his parables, Jesus took illustra-tions from the culture of ordinary people, and he challenged everyone to a whole new way of imagining !ife in this universe. Granted that the fullness of his Father's kingdom beckoned beyond all this here and now, still the kingdom became an illusion if it did not take flesh in the daily circumstances of a specific culture. Over these twenty centuries, the continually limited situation of human faith has succes-sively called for multiple creative responses in the spirit-responses that lead to developments of both dogma and Christian life and that transform aspects of cultures, as each response incarnates, just a bit more, that loving reign of his Father which Jesus so desired for all. Though it is not always easy to interpret what is or is not providential, history is of course also dotted with instances of mistaken, or at least very tardy, responses of the Church to certain cultural challenges. Speaking summarily, then, we must be careful not to interpret the inevitable trend toward secularization as, of itself, destructive or weakening of Christian faith and witness. There is a healthy, permanent, indispensable secularity to Jesus' vision of loving and trusting his Father. However, having spoken to the essential character of its positive meaning and purpose, we must frankly notice that this inevitable secularizing tendency, when not carefully purified and focused, can be dangerously corrupting of the life of faith. And we are speaking here of no mere danger, it seems to me, but of an actual 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 trend of significant strength. The secularizing tendency of life in our world can and does easily, both consciously and unconsciously, settle into secularism, as an overall view of reality. John Coleman helps us again, this time quoting Guy Swanson: Secularism is the "denial that sacred order exists, the conviction that the universe is in no meaningful sense an expression or embodiment of purpose, the belief that it is unreasonable, other than anthropomorphically, to have toward the universe or its 'ground" a relationship mediated by communication or by any other interchange of meanings--to have toward it a relationship in any sense interpersonal."~ In this view, the world has become all, has become the ultimate: it has become God. Here we are entirely beyond any secularity, any inevitable and useful ten-dency toward secularization. As a vision of all reality, secularism has no time for faith, no basis for faith, much less for the intimacy of all true religion's interper-sonal relationship with God. In any explicit debate about secularism, of course, this corrupting danger for faith can be clearly percdived, and so the option to reject it is very available. But even at the theoretical, or notional level, rejection is not so easy, When the inroads are far advanced. However, it is at the operative level, the lived level, the level of heart and eyes and hands, where the danger is especially insidious, and much less detectable--in the midst of our busy, unreflecting life. The human heart, 1 believe, is essentially religious, with desires and Iongings for an interpersonal intimacy that far exceed anything and everything that is of this world. And often, by God's grace, a resentful, depressing frustration results when our hearts' settle for less than all that they are made for. But the sensationally sensual immediacy of much of the affective revolution occt~rring in our world can fixate our hearts and distract them from a reverential love of God.6 As the techno-logical explosion more and more shapes our world, and as we, often rightly, professionally train for work that is more secular, there can be less talk and reference to what should also be religious, even overtly religious. Letters, conversa-tions, sometimes, even, participation in religious ceremonies cease to involve any personal religious expression. 1 do not mean to imply here that religious faith is adequately, or even chiefly, measured by overt God-talk. But to keep the basic faith relationship of our hearts alive and growing, we surely need more than academic precision and culturally sophisticated reserve whenexpressing our faith. Faith, as a deep vision of heart, must be regularly expressed with appropriate personal devotion and affection. Otherwise, the vision and personal relationship of faith will, at minimum, lose any serious motivational force for our lives. It may even become something we are actually ashamed of. And when this happens, when our life of faith and devotion becomes entirely privatized, it can escape into a ~Coleman, art. cir. p. 605, citing Guy E. Swanson, "Modern Secularity," in Cutler, op. cir., pp. 803.-04. 6See Review for Religious, March, 1981, my article referred to above (footnote I), pp. 235-238. Trends and Issues in a Secularizing World childish, uncritical pietism, because so rarely shared with anyone. But there is a third, more ominous possibility, Our faith, from lack of expres-sion, from lack of embodiment, may actually die. This is obviously serious, ,and it is often final, when a person's love relationship with God in Jesus loses all power, all effect in furthering a Father's loving justice in our oppressively unjust world. And there is nothing theoretical in this very inadequate thumbnail sketch. Are there readers who have not watched, in themselves or in a friend, as faith weak-ened, the movement from a growing silence regarding faith to an indifference or even an aggressive criticism, until every expression of faith has become uncomfort-able and unwelcome? Then, faith no longer plays a role either in choosing or in evaluating action. In a rapidly secularizing world, the possibility is very real that faith may harden into a cold, polite, sophisticated, professional stance to life, with very little warmly affective religious expression. But we always need to talk about our beloved with others, to keep the love affair alive and growing and to let it influence others. Appropriate personal expressions of our faith will usually serve the Holy Spirit's inspiration of others. And therefore Christian communities of every kind, whether in religious life, or the family, or the parish, become increasingly more valuable as supports of shared religious vision and experience within a world tending more and more to secularism. How can we avoid the ultimate denial of Christian faith that secularism is? One terribly important means is surely that ongoing faith experience which knows, and seeks to experience God as beyond and greater than all the world. We who can so easily shrink God and conveniently fit him into our small universe have Jesus himself, in his experience of his Father, as our example in this matter. As he came to know Yahweh of the Old Testament in his own growing Abba experience, Jesus related most personally to a God whose life and love neither depended on nor were equal to this world, though (and here is the adventure of it) Jesus himself was that Father's inextricable involvement in love with this world. His commitment to a God so far transcending, though intimately involved within, this world is dramati-cally revealed in Jesus' Calvary experience of finding a resurrection of lif~ and love (his Father) in his very worldly, earthly dying. There was Someone worth dying for. And so, a cruelly absurd death is rendered beautiful to us and encouraging for our own life and death in this world, in what it reveals of a fullness and presence of life and love that is, in a sense, beyond any experience here and now, but yet which is finally available to all of us in Jesus, our Father's kept promise of intimate hope. But how do we experience, before death, the Father of Jesus in his transcend-ence beyond this world?For some, it is available in the dramatic, peak experience of crisis, when choice is both forced and offered between the consolation of a God greater than this world's absurdity and--nothing. In the critical moment when all of this world seems absurd and inimical, loving surrender to a God greater than all of this and whose love conquers all averts ultimate despair and destruction. People led through this experience learn to root their faith more deeply in God than ever before. Born again, they learn to see the world very seriously, and as much more 19~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 valuable and precious than ever before, because it is the stuff of a beloved Father's kingdom. Not all are called to, or allowed, such a crisis. But this fundamental and essential experience of God is not available only through crisis. It is, at base, a contemplative experience, a conversion experience, of God which is available to every believer. Nevertheless, as Paul describes in Rm 6: I-I I, and whether it occurs in a resounding'crisis or in a quiet, secret, outwardly ordinary transformation, it does involve sharing Jesus' death to this world, in order to live for God. There is a choice. And we do make it, whether suddenly or over time~ Either God, or the world~ In being attracted to the choice of God above the world, one then', of course, can find and live with God, and for God, within the world.7 And then. the apostle is in sight: the one who, having chosen God and not the world, is now available to be called by God, sent by God. to serve the world. God's world, the world God loved so much he sent his only Son. Through this experience, then, whether critically peak or not, but genuinely assimilated, we learn neither to take the world too seriously nor to take it lightly, either. A heart stretched by such an experience of God is simply not susceptible to an involvement in this world such that this world seems to be its own and our ultimate meaning and justification. For this is secularism pure and simple: no God, really: but if acknowledged at all. a God locked into this world. Jesus in all his serious concern for this world was never involved as though it were all he had. His identity center was never in this world, but in his Father: in his dear Father, whose love was greater than life itself/This was what kept Jesus energetically free in his life in this world, for this world. And so, too, for any disciple of Jesus. This experience of God beyond this world, which is meant to identify all of us in baptism, also prevents a seriously unchristian making light of this world. An excessive dichotomy between heaven and earth can lead people to long for the former and tend almost to view this earth as valueless, or, at best, as dangerous distraction. Such a lack of serious concern for this world can never result from an authentic experience of Jesus' Father, but only from a failure to appreciate another aspect of Jesus' Calvary experience--his own embodiment of his Father's love and care for us sinners in this, however sinful, immensely beautiful and precious world. Jesus is not someone irresponsibly unconcerned with this world, but neither is he someone so in love with this world that his freedom and ultimate identity are limited to it. Rather, his centeris always a dear Father who is a source of all his worldly love and life. This special religious experience, of having our identity in a God beyond the world while being actively involved in it, is no once-in-a-lifetime experience. It is 7To speak of God above the world is, of course, not to make a spatial delineation. Rather, it is to speak of a God whose being and love isfar greater than this world. In .In 12:3Z .Iesus's words remind us that ultimately we are attracted ("seduced~ is the Old Testament word) to this experience of God. it is not simply our own, Pelagian choice. 8Ps 63:3. Trends and Issues in a Secularizing Worm / 193 rather a lifetime process renewing, deepening, remembering and repeating our God-in-Christ experience. We must recognize the means God sends into our lives to renew this central, identifying experience. We must also find regular (daily?) habits that assist to renew this central focus of our heart's vision. Together with many service situations each day, liturgy, a healthy practice of mortification, and formal praye'r can be regular reminders of a Father whose love and care for all of us point far beyond'the transitory world to a fullness of Spirit still gifting a dying Son's trust. The final beauty for us and for our world, God himself, not only shatters any narrow secularism, but invests our proper apostolic concern and action in the world with a paschal force which labors joyfully that everything may belong to Christ, who shall hand all things over to the Father, that God may be all in all? Against this background of a strong secularizing tendency in our world today, I will now treat a number of other trends and issues on the American spiritual scene. Some of these concerns are more directly affected than others by our secularizing world; But all of them, in my judgment, are susceptible to its influence. Related Trends and Issues 1. A Sacred-Secular Split A division of our world into sacred and secular is one of the chief tendencies of secularization. Father Philip Murnibn recently told the Catholic Theological Society of America that "we are experiencing (a) disaffection from faith and Church and a separation of private Church life from public social life that is the main feature of secularization."~° Many call for a political theology which would heal this split and bring the gospel more to bear on the persons and institutions of our unjust, sinful world. Such a view rightly understands that to theologize and to practice spirituality without a passionate concern for the specifics of our world only exacerbates the sacred-secular split and that the approach is, in any event, unchristian. But conversely, any merely external activity, however much on behalf of justice, is equally insufficient to heal this split wherever it exists, whether within an individual person or within a community. Any attempt at healing which ne-glects the split at the level of interior experience risks a fragile solution that will quickly slip into an unrooted, social externalism. Evangelization must aim deeply and broadly: it must essay healing the split deep within the individual human heart even as it confronts the systemic injustice in our society. Liberation theology needs to be rooted in a liberation spirituality for the individual believer.~l The silence and solitude, the healing purification and conversion of the encounter with God cannot be bypassed. Segundo Galilea articulates it exactly: '~See I Co 15:22-8. ~01n Origins, August 13, 1981, "The Unmet Challenges of Vatican I1," p. 148. ~Segundo Galilea, ~Liberation as an Encounter with Politics and Contemplation," in Claude Geffr6 and Gustavo Guttii:rez, eds., The Mystical and Political Dimension of the Christian Faith, New York, 1974, p. 20. 194 / Review for Religious, March-ApriL 1982 Authentic Christian contemplation, passing through the desert, transforms contemplatives into prophets and heroes of commitment and militants into mystics. Christianity achieves the synthesis of the politician and the mystic, the militant and the contemplative, and abolishes the false antithesis between the religious-contemplatives and the militantly committed.~-' The ~bility to deal in faith with a wide range of inner affective experiences in our hearts makes possible finding God in every inner experience. In this way all human experience gradually becomes religious experience and culminates some-how in God, thus healing the split between experiences which are either overtly religious or secular. Without this inner integration in faith of a person's ongoing experience, political theology and spirituality are both Unroofed, just as the inner faith integration, if left to itself and without the outer word and action, becomes unreal and, finally impossible. A careful discernment of heart expressed in a passionate concern for individual evangelical issues and in a courageous loving presence to the.serious social issues of our world will avoid any unjust, unfaithful, secularistic dichotomy 2. Global Societal Values As we look to the future, there is an urgent summons to transcend overly personalistic, or, perhaps better, individualistic values. In the midst of a growing, democratic stress on the value of each human person, Vatican 11 took as one of its central foci the value of the person. In last year's survey, while affirming this value as utterly central to the Christian mystery, I nevertheless treated the danger to personalism of a subtle self-centeredness. And 1 suggested we might be ready for a more refined Christian personalism.~3 As we look forward now to the year 2.000, when global and societal problems will be, even more than today, an inescapable reality, our education and religious formation must be founded on global, on societal, values rather than on simply personalistic ones. Learning to cooperate, throughout both national and international society, will become, will have to become, more and more the truest meaning of personal fulfillment. And questions such as these will face us if we take such a global perspective: How do we take account of the millions of poor starving people in our world as we arbitrate labor disputes for excessively high salaries, whether we are talking of air-controllers or of baseball players? How do we overcome the natural tendency to get as much as one can for oneself, rather than to think of sharing with millions upon millions who have much less? We have a long way to go in this shift of value perspective before the year 2000. The heavily personalistic approach (really, it is better to say. individualistic) with its stress on self-fulfillment, will not convert and develop easily~to a global perspec-tive. The conversion involved here will be a new way of thinking. But it must go beyond that, to a change of heart. This global view will finally be shaped in experiences, carefully planned and reflected upon, as a complement to serious ~21bid. p. 28. ~3See art. cit. pp. 238-39. Trends and Issues in a Secularizing World / 195 study. True Christian personalism, of course, which is not narrowly individualistic, has no need to renounce any of itself, but will find a ready ally and field for service in global, societal concerns. Indeed, Christian personalism will become fully itself only in a communal, universal perspective which incarnates that justice, love and peace which mark the kingdom of Jesus' Father. For most of us, the shift we speak of calls for a change of heart that must run deep, get radical and become a revolution in our sensibility. 3. Unity and Diversity On April 8, 1979, at an academic convocation in Cambridge, MA, Karl Rahner, attempting a theological interpretation of Vatican 11, claimed that this Council "is.the Church's first official gelf-actualization as a world Church."~4 And Rahner claims that as the Church takes this revelation of her global nature ever more seriously, there will necessarily develop a pluralism of proclamations of the one Good News for many new cultures in Asia, Africa, and other places. How shall we find a true unity of faith within such a pluralism, and without again reducing it to a Western, Roman, overly centralized uniformity? Philip Murnion, in commenting on the unmet challenges of Vatican 11, feels that: "It is now the basic ecclesiology of Vatican 11 that confronts us as we grow weary and dissatisfied with so many superficial expressions of this ecclesiology."~5 As this basic ecclesiology of a "world Church" begins to be realized in practice, the pluralis~m which we know already can only radically increase. And as we are very well aware, such rapidly growing diversification often brings in its wake confounding disorientation, highstrung tension, and even hostile, angry charges of disloyalty. The problem is, and will be faith: to seek, and to learn to recognize unity of faith within diversity. That said, however, we cannot simply float with an almost infinite variety, as though diversity, in and of itself, were pure value. Finally, both human intelligibility and Christian faith require a unity. But a unity underneath and within diversity is not always easy to perceive, especially when diversification is rapid and recent. In a time of great diversity, before a clear, profound and pervasive unity has been found, we must learn to live both honestly and charitably, and with inevitable tensions. But even as we are patient, we must also continue to search for, we must ambition and work for, that unity which wiil help us understand how diversity is a blessin~ how it enriches and does not enervate. Simply to settle for a tolerance of plurality is not healthy pluralism. Whether it be a matter of the forms of ministry or orders, or of women priests, of religious garb, of doctrinal expression, or of forms of Church membership, we must continue to grow toward a "coherent consensus that can serve as a basis for common and confident Catholic identity."16 t4Karl Rahner, S.J., Theological Studies, December, 1979, "Towards a Fundamental Theological Interpretation of Vatican II~ (Leo J. O'Donovan, S.J., tr.). p. 717. ~Murnion, Origins, August 13, 1981, loc. cit. ~61bid. p. 147. ~TSee Jn 17:22. 196 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 As we search for a deeper coherence and discerningly reflect on much experimen-tation, we must reverence one another and the intricacies of ecclesial authority and development. And the best way we reverence both one another and the issues is by sharing our beliefs as best we can, from deep within our hearts, in the confident hope that a God who is so joyously one, precisely in terms of his own lovely diversity, will guide us together and will help us to see the extent and limit of diversity so that we may be one even as Father, Son, and Spirit are one.~7 When looked at institutionally, the area of ministry may especially seem to reveal a diversifying revolution that verges on the chaotic.J8 We speak of"ministry" now, where before we would have said "apostolate" or, simply~ "work." Many believers, especially tho~e professionally trained, now speak of having a ministry. This explosion of ministries has unhooked the word, and permanently so, I should think, from a past, unambiguous relationship to ordination. Now, in word also, as always before in fact, it is not only priests who minister. And this great multiplica-tion of ministries through the 1970's is no mere matter of a word. It signals an underlying ideological shift regarding ministry in the Church.J9 Various studies are trying to expose this ideological shift,' so that it can be seen for all that it may mean for the future, then discussed and carefully experimented with~ before any long-term decisions are made. This development in ministry is very complicated and needs to be studied from many perspectives. Perhaps serious consideration of the renewed ecclesiology of Vatican II will help us appreciate the theological source for much of the develol~men~t regarding ministry in the Church. For if the Church is seriously perceived as mystery and not just as institution, as community and not only, or even primarily, as hierarchy, as mission and not just as haven of the saved, then much of the ministerial multiplication becomes not only intelligible, but rich and welcome.20 Hopefully, then, such study will gradually expose the underlying issue here, so that we can choose our future in a diversity expressive of a profound, commonly shared faith-unity, rather than be trapped in a future diversity which is only the bitter sign of the disunity of unconcerned or warring parties. 4. Spiritual Witness of Religious Life Part of the explanation of the great expansion of,ministries is the urgent sense of the countless challenges with which the modern world confronts the Church. There are so many opportunities, and there is so much to be done. And we have not the leisure to wait; time is runnin.g out. This urgent sense of ministerial opportunity and challenge is affecting religious Congregations in at least two different ways. Some groups, over the past few years, ~sSandra M. Schneiders, I.H.M., The Way, October, 1980, "Theological Trends: Ministry and Ordina-tion I." p. 291. ~gSee John A. Coleman, S.J., America. March 28, 1981, "The Future of Ministry,~ pp. 243-49. 20Schneiders, art. cir., pp. 290-299. Trends and Issues in a Secularizing World / "197 have learned the futility of furious and relentless activity and are now involved in a serious, mature, realistic program of spiritual renewal. And they are doing this without any unrealistic or self-centered withdrawal from apostolic activity. But rather than trying to do as much as they "can," members are taking means and time to improve the prayerful quality of their presence and action in the world. Some leisure, to keep personal spirituality and humanity alive, is not seen as time wasted or selfishly spent, but is encouraged to provide the spiritual, faith motiva-tion requisite for a courageously loving and enlightened presence in the critical situations of our world. There are other religious congregations that would almost certainly not explicit-ly deny the necessity of serious spirituality to root serious ministry. But at the operative level, they at least seem so taken up with their difficult ministries that fatigue, often verging on burnout, prevents serious growth in prayer and in the inner resources for that personal love relationship with God which alone can motivate authentic apostolic service. In such Congregations, often there is not much specific encouragement from superiors and other leaders for prayer, for careful spiritual reflection, or for time taken for serious retreats alone with God. Members of these congregations sometimes look in vain for such encouragement, and they wonder at an apparent lack of appreciation for ongoing spiritual renewal. These groups are frequently grappling with the crucial issues of our age, and often with great courage. But they are also doing so, often, with an apparent lack of any realistic, informed and detailed concern for that inner life of the Spirit which keeps apostolic life prayerfully focused on Jesus' revelation of the kingdom of his Father. Within this significant, contemporary trend of religious congregations moving, not theoretically, but operatively, in two different directions, the issue is the subtle integration of the inner and outer, of prayer and ministry. I certainly have no wish or competence to sit in judgment on who attains this integration and who does not. Either of these two directions I have described can be exaggerated. Excessive care of spiritual practices can produce a "hothouse" pietism unconcerned with major issues in our world. And excessively busy activity in our secular world, without sufficient spiritual resources--and taking the time for this---can burn out faith and a prayerful spirit, in a way that does not further the kingdom. As we confront the fact that ministry is not a matter of staying as busy as possible, we can be led to the deeper~ more subtle issue of a careful concern for the quality of our action, a quality determined by the graced availability of our hearts and wills to God in all we do. We will struggle with the fluctuating mixture in our conscious-ness of grace and sinfulness, of consolation and desolation, and see how seriously related it all is to our service. An actively apostolic spirituality, never a matter of simple busy activity, is as much a matter of this inner quality of heart expressed in a special human faith presence as it is a matter of courageous activity and service for God's people. As this is more appreciated, the groups now moving in the two directions I've sketched above will not judge or belittle one another. No, the3/will increasingly cooperate in diverse ministries, through a shared and prayerful faith. A related trend here concerns the role and understanding of formal prayer in 1911 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 serious spiritual growth and in mature ministry. Obviously, mature ministry is impossible without mature prayer. Here, I do not simply equate formal prayer and mature prayer. By no means. The latter term stretches far beyond the practice of formal prayer, into a whole life of prayer, but only so, 1 suspect~ because of an appropriately regular practice of formal contemplation. Without regular, formal contemplation, a mature, prayerful life in ministry does not seem possible. Most serious believers 1 consult and listen to, in the course of many travels and work-shops, would readily agree with this. But many would then squirm a bit, perhaps, as they reflect on their own practice of formal prayer. 1 sense some widely divergent understandings today of"regular formal prayer." Without wanting to suggest any uniformity for all, let me pose some questions that may help us candidly face the issues in this trend. To practice regular formal prayer, does a person need a specific, daily expectation of length and time, rather than leaving it simply to daily spontaneity? Does this daily expectation or ideal then leave one open to days when God "excuses" one for various reasons (his), thus preventing the ideal from becoming ironclad and causing guilt? ls formal prayer always somehow a withdrawal from activity into the intimate solitude of our hearts to be with God there? Is praying formally once or twice a week what is usually meant by "regular" for a mature believer? Is it a different type and quality of prayer that one is capable of when one prays for thirty rather than ten minutes (without letting prayer become too, clock-oriented, like a prayerwheel)? Even in the case of quite advanced spiritual persons, is the disappearance of regular formal prayer, for at least thirty minutes, a bad, or at least very questionable, sign? I think individuals and whole religious communities must give serious thought to ques-tions such as these before they too hastily agree again, even in very beautiful words, how important formal prayer is for busy apostolic lives. I am not entirely sure what reaction these questions may call forth from various people. But 1 do sense a growing desire among religious and others to be more prayerful and to be more honest about the whole question of what it means to pray, and of the necessity of praying if one wishes to be prayerful. Many look for clear, specific guidance and encouragement in this matter. And this desire to grow in the practice of formal prayer, as a means toa life of prayer and service, is no monastic aberration for an active person. I sense we can be carefully more demanding of one i~nother in this area, after a period of vague, rather general guidelines which reacted to some past inflexible, detailed programs of prayer. How these questions about regular formal prayer can be answered by busy parents with small children at home must also be investigated. Though in general their spiritual ideal and program must be different from that of religious and priests, it is still not at all clear that they are incapable of some realistic, regular practice of formal prayer. Without proposing any seminary or convent style of spirituality for busy parents, we must not downplay either their desire for prayer, even at the cost of sacrifice, or the necessary interplay of protracted regular prayer and a developing life of prayer. But much more experimentation and study must be done on the adaptations appropriate to these people, but adaptations which will Trends and Issues in a Secularizing World / 199 not trivialize the often significant spiritual capabilities and desires of these lay men and women. 5. Religious Life: Life in Community Another trend seems also to be moving the understanding of religious life in two quite different directions. Is religious life now, and will it continue to be, life lived in community? Once again, more operatively than theoretically, there seem to be congregations that respond yes to the question, though they may understand "living in community" in various ways. And there are certainly congregations that, at least in the way they act, would clearly seem to be answering no to community life as a necessary element of religious life. Some congregations see the profound unity of the whole group as springing essentially from that shared experience of "being sent" which integrates religious authority, obedience and mission into one life and call.2~ This profound sense of community in mission is then incarnated in each and every person's living some-how as a member of a local community, with exceptions occurring only because of the necessities of geography or the nature of the particular ministry. In this way there is a clear incarnation of the belief that a member's heart is given over completely to God and his people, but it is given to God and it is given apostoli-cally precisely through belonging fully to this specific congregation. In this under-standing, apostolic community is not an end in itself, but it certainly is a continually essential means to ministry and service and thus is an essential aspect both of religious identity and of apostolic action. In other congregations, life in community seems experienced and desired and chosen as much less essential and pervasive in the group. And these groups are often composed of competently trained, talented, generous people. But their apos-tolic service seems more an individual concern. They are often found either living alone or, when they live together, they seem to do so more as a matter of conven-ience and/or compatibility than as anything required to express their identity. They often live the vows seriously and carefully, though where ministry is not an experience of "being sent," there would seem to be difficult questions about genuine religious obedience.22 Operatively, whatever the theoretieal aspects may be, there seems to be a different view of religious life here--something more akin to what we have traditionally understood a secular institute to be. The issue, it seems to me, is whether these two clearly differing developments are also contradictory and therefore unable to be seen as authentic variants of one reality: religious life as understood and lived in the Church. Will we continue to see religious life as life in community, which has seemed to be one of its essentials since :~See my article. "Prayer. Mission and Obedience." The Way Supplement, No. 37. Spring. 1980. pp. 50-57. 221bid., p. 55. 20{I / Review for Religious, March-April, 1982 Pachomius organized eastern monasticism? It is important not to see community here as simply a geographical, local matter. That is an important meaning, but it is not the first nor is it the essential meaning of religious community life. Rather, vowed community life is fundamentally a profound union and communion in mission, a sense of the corporate, which indeed ordinarily is incarnated in a shared local setting of life and faith. Even now there can be tension and friction between groups of these two very diffe~'ent understandings of religious commitment. And I am not sure that the issue would not become serious enough in the future to cause a break and division in our understanding of religious life. A major superior recently told me that she expected, after the relative peace and the low number of departures during the end of the 70's, that the early 80's would bring more upheaval and departures--but all leading to something deep and good, something more gospel-based. So there may be radical purification again! And a sizable part of this upheaval may well concern the precisely com-munal dimension of our lives as religious. People may leave either because of a desire for more shared life and faith than a particular group has to offer, or conversely, they may leave because of a loss of aptitude or affection for celibate religious living after years of individualistic living and working. In congregations committed to a healthy, contemporary sense of communal living, there is another issue developing: a growing need for leadership on the local level. Groups, in and of themselves, still seem to find it very difficult to make decisions. Rather, they often haggle over each side of a question and often cannot move ahead. Beyond the role of a provincial superior and counselor, a local leader seems needed, a leader who listens, who values the communal and the collegial, but one who is able also compassionately to confront and to call individual members to be honest and prayerfully discerning about their lives, ministries and vocations. Leaders, then, are needed who are willing to accept the burden and service of authority. Without the encouragement of such a leader on the scene, honest, prayerful discernment about serious issues frequently does not happen. Provincials know how often they are confronted with the fair accompli in serious vocational decisions that have had very little consultation and prayerful discern-ment behind them. Mature, competent, professional adults, overly involved in our secular world, often need this careful but honest dialogue, if they are to stay in touch with, and live out, their_deepest, truest desires in faith. But as provincials know, it is very difficult to find men and women of this leadership caliber, mefi and women both suited and willing to be facilitators and leaders of local community life. And of course there remain in some members authoritarian hangovers which militate against this move toward better community living. Another angle of this issue concerns younger members' entering religious life. Because of the serious decrease of members in the past decade, there is generally a real age gap developing between members who are about ten years professed and novices or temporary professed, who now face the prospect of joining for life. Can such young persons live and serve with members decidedly older than themselves? Can they live without much peer support? This is an issue which, in its detail and Trends and Issues in a Secularizing World developments and implications, is quite different from anything most of us had to face years ago as we entered religious life. Today, the decision for final profession, for such young religious, will require a strong sense of vocation indeed, a sense of vocation that is rooted in a special inner psychic strength and in a quite different type of trust in God than was asked for in the past. This sense of vocation and commitment must, finally, be rooted deeply in the inner solitude of the individual heart, where God's call continues to resonate deeply and very lovingly. Now the motivation must run palpably deeper than any horizontal peer support. The com-munity dimension of our vocation, important as it is, can never replace the unique-ness of a vocation rooted in the experience of solitude alone with God in one's heart. In many ways, today we are being called back to this rooting of the religious vocation in God--in and through, of course, but also far beyond the personal fulfillment of shared support and affirmation. As Ps 73 says of him: "you are.the future that waits for me.ms All these different aspects of this trend concerning community and religious life finally issue forth with decided impact on the level of felt membership. Today, unless one is a major superior or has been chosen for some other special responsi-bility in the congregation, the felt sense of belonging may grow dim. So many religious today, whether it be their own responsibility or that of others, fe~l dis-connected, left out. In past times, th

Issue 18.5 of the Review for Religious, 1959. ; ~ Review for Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1959 Friendship'~ Among Religious By Columban Browning, C.P. 257 Conquering Serious Sin By John C. Schwarz, S.J. Perpetual Vows, ~ By Hugo j. Gerleman, S.J. Mother Anna Tabouret By Sister Mary Kenneth, H.H.M. 265 273 279 Survey of Roman Documents Views, Newsi Previe~ ~ Questions and Answers Book ReviewsEi" VOLUME 18 293. 3bo 303 °- NUMBEK 5 Volume 18 Septem.ber 15~ 1959 Number 5 OUR CONTRIBUTORS REV. COLUMBAN BROWNING is stationed at Mother of Good Counsel Seminary~ Warrenton, Missouri. REV. JOHN C. SCHWARZ is stationed at 892 W. Boston, Detroit 2, Michigan. REV. HUGO J. GERLEMAN is instructor of tertians at St. Joseph Hall, 2601 North Union, Decatur, Illinois. SISTER MARY KENNETH is stationed at 17435 Northwood Avenue, Lakewood 7, Ohio. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Sept. 1959, Vol. 18, No. 5. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Edited by the .Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ec-clesiastical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mis-souri. Copyright, 1959, "by The Queen's Work. Subscription price'in Ior. S. A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Editor: R. F. Smith, S.J. Associate Editors: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly,, S.J.; Henry Willmering, S.J. Assistant Editors: John E. Becker, S.J.; Robert F. Weiss, S.J: Departmental Editors: Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; E~arl A. Weis, S.J. Please send all renewals, new subscriptions, and business correspondence to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. Please send all manuscripts and editorial correspondence to: Review for Religious, St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. Friendship Among Religious Columban Browning~ C.P. IT WOULD BE HARD to find a religious who has not been warned about the dan'ger of particular friendship. It would be equally hard to find a religious who has not experienced an amount of conflict in striving for a balanced attitude toward friendship. Most religious have heard the warning about particu-lar fr.iendship many.~times: in the novitiate, in retreats, in monthly conferences, and in spiritual books. The warning about false friendship is, of course, a very necessary one. There can be a real danger of forming an exclusive friendship that hinders a religious in the singular love of God that is the primary goal of the 'religious life. Such a friendship can even become a serious threat to the chastity that religious pro-fess. Religious souls sacrifice the normal outlets of their emotions which other young people find in the married state. Since com-plete adjustment to a life of chastity is not always easily attained, there is a natural tendency for religious to seek emotional com-pensation in those closest to them, namely, their fellow religious. The danger of this is greatly aggravated in one who is not fully mature in his emotional life. And it is often a common danger for those who are new in the religious life. These newcomers in the religious life are in a process of adjustment, and it is easy to understand that they may meet with an amount of emotional tension. This tension can easily seek relief in the exclusive attach-ment to a fellow religious. Our purpose here is not to repeat the age-old and ~¢ery neces-sary warning. Enough has been said about this already. The nature and signs of false friendship are sufficiently known to all: exclusiveness, jealousy, the need for signs of affection, daydream-ing about the 'friend,' and so on. We presume this knowledge, and we fully realize all the potential dangers involved. Our purpose here is to suggest that overemphasis of the dangers of particular friendship may perhaps produce a very harmful effect. And this effect is to make religious afraid to have any friends, It may even give rise to a general atmosphere in a 257 COLUMBAN BROWNING Review for Religious religious community in which all friendships are looked upon with an eye of suspicion. Corruption in the arts can tear down rather than build up, and so can the corruption of friendship. But just as we do not condemn beauty as such because of its abuses, so also we must not despise friendship just because it sometimes goes awry. Particular friendship is a characteristic of the emotionally immature religious. There can be a place in religion for those who are lacking somewhat in maturity though they may require more in the way of protection and guidance. But we feel that the greater number of religious are mature enough to avoid the corrupting force of particular friendship. And this being so, is it right that all religious be deprived of good healthy friendship just because for some it is a grave danger? In other words, it is a question of proper balance. If a sane and balanced view is not taken by superiors as well as individual religious, there is a serious danger that an atmosphere emerge in which human hearts must of necessity turn to granite. The result will be that the warmth of charity will vanish and a cold, im-personal spirit will chill the very life of the community. Friendship is an .integral and very necessary part of human life. It is one of the good and higher things of life that can be a positive help toward a more whole-hearted love for God. Just as music, art, literature, and beauty of all kinds are intended to lift up the mind and heart to God, so also is God's gift of friendship. The inspired word of God more than once praises the boon of friendship. We read in the Book of Sirach: "A faithful friend is a sturdy shelter; he who finds one find~ a treasure. A faithful friend is beyond price, no sum can balance his worth. A faithful friend is a lifesaving remedy, such as he who fears God finds; for he who fears God behaves accordingly, and his friend shall be like himself." (6:14-17) This being so, surely good wholesome friendship should not be excluded from the religious life without a ,hearing. The lives of many religious saints strongly endorse the words of Sacred Scripture. As examples, we need only recall the strong bond of friendship that existed between St. Teresa of Avila and Mother Anne of Jesus or that between St. Therese and her three sisters in Carmel. The friendship of these holy souls was certainly 258 September, 1959" FRIENDSHIP AMONG RELIGIOUS not a hindrance but rather a. help to their more perfect love of God. That such has been the case in the lives of these great saints should be proof enough that friendship in itself is a gift of God for our sanctification. The Need for Human Friendship No human being can live a normal life without friendship. God made man a social being, and his entire life is lived in the company of others. God gave man this company because by his nature he needs it. This need is greater in a woman than in a man. A woman has greater emotional needs, and one of these needs is for support in her strivings. When a young persdn steps inside the door of a novitiate, he does not leave this basic need behind him. By that step he sacrifices the normal means of finding his support. But the need very definitely remains. Pope Pius XII singled out this fact in the words he addressed to the superiors general of religious women assembled in Rome in 1952. He said! And now dearest daughters, we pass on to exhort yo~ urgently on two points. First, motherly affection in the guidance of your Sisters. ¯ Psychologists say, and it is probably true, that when in authority it is harder for woman' than for man to find the exact balance between severity and kindness. This makes it all the more necessary fo.,r you to cultivate your motherly feelings. Remember that for your sisters, as for yourselves, religious life demands a great sacrifice. They have given up their families, the joys of married life and a home of their own. It is a sacrifice of great worth and importance for the apostolate of the Church, but it is none the less a sacrifice, and those possessed of greatness of soul and delicacy of sentiment feel it the most keenly . . . and you as superiors general should be the first to breathe into the common life of your sisters the warmth of family love. (Acta et Documenta, 1952, p. 333) When a young person enters the religious life, he is de-termined to surrender his whole heart and soul to God -- to find in Him the complete realization of all his ambitions. He is putting himself on the way to that goal. But he is not ordinarily capable of that whole-hearted love from the beginning. As he learns the first steps of religious life, he will need the strong support and encouragement of the Master or Mistress. Even when he finishes the novitiate, he will not be completely rooted in God, so that he will still need human support. To his dying day, in fact, he will most likely be very much on the way. He will, in other words, need strong human support all along. 259 COLUMBAN BROWNING Review for Religious He may find this support in his superiors, his confessor or spiritual director. But realism forces us to admit that a religious frequently does not find the most ideal support at these sources. Personalities enter in; there is fear of authority'that lurks in the minds of so many, to say nothing of the many other compli-cating, factors. Frequently, therefore, a religious may need the firm support that comes from friendship. And where should he look for this friend if not among his fellow religious? A true friend will not aggravate the burdens by agreeing with all com-plaints but will rather animate the confidant to bear his trials patiently and help him to reach higher in his spiritual ideals. It all comes down to this: When a religious is learning to love God with all his heart, and all his life he is learning this, he cannot live in an absolute vacuum. Being human, he will need the firm support of human friendship. If he tries to live without this or if circumstances force him to live without it for a long time, there is grave danger that his ideals will gradually diminish. From sheer lack of ability to "go it alone" he is apt to find him-s~ lf falling back rather than going forward. And in this situation he may find himself turning his attention back to the things that he has given up, and sooner or later he will realize that he no longer has any real desire to live all for God. We wonder how many ex-religious would still be happy religious today if they had had the support of true and loyal friends. From what has been said, it may appear that relying on the help of friends is a very imperfect thing in itself, and may be admitted only as a crutch for the beginner. But such is not the case. In God's plan of providence He has made man with a n~ed for friendship, and He intends that it be an important factor in his sanctification all through life. St. Aelred, who has written a beautiful treatise on this subject, makes this" clear. He says that friendship "is possible between the good, it makes progress between those who are better, and it is consummated between those who are perfect." He also says: "Wonderful must he be who can afford to do without friends and without love. More wonderful than God Himself." (De amore amicitiae) St. Teresa of Avila stresses the advantages of friendship in living a spiritual life when she says: It is a great evil for a soul to be alone in the midst of such great dangers . I would advise those who are giving themselves to prayer, particularly at first, to form friendships . . . with those who are doing 260 September, 1959 FRIENDSHIP AMONG RELIGIOUS the same thing. It is a matter of the last importance, even if it lead only to helping one another by prayer . Now, if in their dealings with one another, and in the indulgence of human affection not even of the best kind, men seek friends with whom they can refresh themselves. I know no reason why it should not be lawful for him who is beginning to love and serve God in earnest to confide his joys and sorrows to another. [Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, trans, by David Lewis (West-minster: Newman, 1943), ch. 7, pp. 54-55,1 From such ahthoritative statements it is evident that true friendship between human beings is patterned after God's own friendship with man and that its goal is closer union with God Himself. As the austere hermit St. Peter Damian so beautifully expresses it: "When I look on thy face, on thee who are dear to me, I lift my gaze toward Him Who, united to thee, I desire to reach" (Letters, 2:12). Still on the psychological plane, let us consider the matter in relation to the religious vow of chastity. Dangers to chastity are usually cited as the motive for avoiding particular friendship. But may we not say that true and healthy f~riendship can be one of the greatest protectors of chastity? The religious has sacrificed the normal emotional outlets. Keeping his basic emotional needs he is, in a sense, in a state of violence in the religious life. Here we must recall what we have already said -- that the religious is destined to find his all in God, but that reaching this goal is a life-long process. The warmth of well regulated fri~nd-ship is the normal and God-given support to help the religious to learn to live entirely for God. When he has the comfort of such friendship, he will ordinarily tend to regret less what he has given up. As a result he will find more contentment and natural joy in the religious life. Without this support he is apt to ex-perience a kind of emotional starvation. S~ch a state produces tension, and tension is a fertile source of unlawful desires. A tense religious is in danger of acting hastily and seeking com-pensation for what he is missing. Much of this tension could be avoided if the religious did not feel so alone and unwanted. True supernatural love and friendship, in other words, can give the religious a sense of dignity that fosters purity. Another thing that may be to the point here: There seems to be an ever increasing number of religious who suffer from what doctbrs call psychosomatic illnesses. Ailments develop for which the physician can find no physical cause. Doctors usually diagnose these ailments as being the effect of nervous tension. How many 261 COLUMBAN BROWNING Review for Religious of these poor religious feel that they have any real friends in the religious life? Must we not say that much of this could be avoided if the medicine of human friendship were in better standing? The best antidote to tension and nervousness is contentment. And human nature is ordinarily not contented and at rest without the warmth of human love that is the effect of friendship. Certain Qualifications Lest we appear to be a little too idealistic and too trustful of human nature, a number of qualifications may. be in place. The first has to do with the need for universal charity in religion. We know that charity toward all was one of the key doctrines of our Lord. And since the religious life is the embodi-ment of His teaching, it is obvious that supernatural, universal charity must always hold a prominent place in any religious community. At first sight our proposal may sound like a denial of this. If misunderstood and misinterpreted, it could .indeed become such. No religious can ever exclude anyone from his charity. As far as community life is concerned, a uniformity and consistency must be observed in all dealings with fellow religious. But at the same time it is contrary to human nature itself to expect a religious to feel the same toward all. Inevitably he will feel closer to some than to others, and he will be able to speak more freely and confidently to these. It is among these that he will normally be inclined to seek his friends. To expect otherwise would be to. do violence to human nature itself. And we need to recall that human nature is not destroyed but rather elevated by living a spiritual life. At the same time, preference for these few should never lead the religious to spend all his time with them or to form a clique with them. When this happens, we have a counterfeit of true friendship that is inconsistent with" the religious life. True friendship does not narrow the human heart but rather expands it and makes it capable of loving all more. When we think maturely, we judge things by their true nature rather than by their occasional abuses. Are we, therefore, to forbid all re-ligious to have any friends just because there is some danger of abuse? The occasional abuses should be dealt with individually 262 September, 1959 FRIENDSHIP AMONG RELIGIOUS rather than be considered a pretext to~condemn the entire tree because of a few bad fruits. Another necessary clarification pertains to superiors. It is a good and true principle that a superior should deal with all his subjects alike. It is a false principle, though sometimes quoted, that a superior should have no friends. A superior must maintain an equality in all his external dealings with his subjects. But he too is human and needs a friend -- perhaps more than does the ordinary religious. The very burdens he bears may require that he have some human support lest those burdens crush him. To deny him this outlet is to be cruel and inhuman. Of course, such a friendship in a superior contains potential dangers. There'is the danger of his showing preference for his friends in an external way, to the great detriment of peace and contentment in' the community. There is the further danger of his letting his friends determine his policies as superior, also a grave abuse. But again, are we to condemn something that is good and necessary in itself just because of a few abuses? The surest way to avoid such abuses is by appointing only those as superior who are mature enough to exercise prudence and good judgment. Very small houses present a problem all their own that needs to be considered. The fewer the number of religious in a house, the greater is the need for universal charity and: the greater need for one or two friends to avoid isolating themselves from the rest. There is no need to stress the severe trial of living in a small house that is divided. But again we must remember that this state of things is a counterfeit of true friendship, and the whole question of friendship should not be judged by such abuses. A religious who is assigned to a small house may find him-self in a situation in which close friendship is practically im-possible. His companions are few, and he may not be able to feel close to any of them. The same inability to make friends may arise from other circumstances, even in larger houses~ When such situations exist, the religious is forced to, do without what is ordinarily necessary for happy living. But the religious who has cultivated only healthy friendships will be able to meet this challenge and will accept this cross from the hands of God for his purification. If we are to be purified and made capable of loving God more, we must a~ept the crosses that God sends. 263 COLUMBAN ]~ROWNING And just as He sometimes cuts away other supports that are ordinarily considered basic necessities in order to purify us, so also in the case of friendship. The religious must therefore be prepared for such situations and must see them in the light of God's all loving providence for him. Bearing this cross patiently will expand the heart and equip the religious to be more mature in friendship when the opportunity for them arises again. Finally, lest we give the impression of overlooking in practice the real danger of friendship becoming particular and exclusive, another clarification is in place. Of course, there is always an amount of danger of this. Even a true and healthy friendship can deteriorate. But this is a matter to be dealt with in particular cases. For many there is practically no danger of particular friendship. For most the danger is remote. For some it may be called serious. These particular dangers should not determine the mentality of a community toward friendship so that every-one who has a friend is considered suspect. A community that adopts this attitude as a more or less official policy creates a situation in which Christian charity is severely paralysed. Instead of the religious "living together in unity" and working together in the charity of Christ, bickering, discontent, selfishness, and downright cruelty can become the order of the day. When religious are forced to live in such an atmosphere, the heroism that is so necessary for anyone to develop the fulness of Christ is frustrated, o ¯ Conclusion The religious life has as its goal the binding of human hearts more closely to the God of all love. In striving for this goal, ev.ery religious is held back by the limitations of fallen human nature. Because of these limitations and the consequent failings that somewhat mar the perfection of every religious soul, there is a tendency to emphasize the negative to the detriment of the positive elements of the religious life. When a general atmosphere of negativism arises in a religious community, the vital spirit of the members of that community is severely paralysed. We feel that this negativism too often shows itself in the attitude toward friendship. May God speed the day when His wonderful gift of friendship is judged, not by occasional abuses, but by the positive incentive it provides for a whole hearted search for God. 264 Conquering Serious Sin John Co Schwarz, S.J. INA MEMORABLE address to the clerical students and priests at the Catholic University some months after her entrance into the Church, Clare Boothe Luce commented on the singular importance of love in the service of God. "All the world they say, loves a lover . And never before have I been together with so many young men who are deeply in love, for the first and last times in their lives. For you are to be the truest of all lovers: the priests of God's altars." Her graceful words a~e easily extended to all who consecrate themselves to life with Christ, to life with Love. For the religious deeply feels that his or her vocation precisely consists in striving to be "the truest of all lovers." But lofty as such aspirations surely are, the weight of d~ill human nature remains a constant factor and a daily experience. The actions of no less a saint thaff His own first vicar drew from' our Lord the comment, "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." Thus serious sin, the sorry surrender of the high aspirations of love, remains a possibility even for men and women who have taken their place in the consecrated, protected ranks of religious life. Temptation, even sharp temptation, remains altogether possible. The free-living and often loveless world around us will attempt to turn that possibility into glittering reality. And the urges and impulses of fallen human nature, pressuring from within, may add further strain. Hence, this presentation of basic reflections, remedies, and counter-measures against serious sin may not be amiss. Because the flesh remains weak, therefore serious sin cannot yet be filed under "impossibilities," and forgotten. Moreover, the experience of mortal sin could prove as productive of be-wilderment as of remorse. Nor will sure counsel and direction always be at hand. Especially if the experience were to be com-plicated by the shock of repetition, the path ahead could become greviously entangled. Hence some considerations on this little-frequented area of religious life may be of interest even to "the truest of all lovers." Now even serious sin can produce some profit, if the ex-perience prods one into a necessary check-up on key points of 265 JOHN C. SCHWARZ " Review for Religious religious observance and consecratip~i~ As physical pains signal the need for medical care, perhaps heretofore ignored, so it is with conduct of which conscience has voiced flat disapproval. A deepened sense of authentic humility can also result, as well as an increased, practical sympathy for the trials which others are experiencing from time to time-- students, for instance. And one will surely learn that mere general exhortations to avoid temptation may help little when the danger is close and vividly felt. Check Fading Motives But to check the key points of one's ~eligious observance, a valuable technique for av.oiding mortal sinas well as for remedying it, will involve attention to far more than me.re.exterior regularity or promptitude. That does have its importance, definitely. But the giant-step forward will be taken with the realization that serious sin, especially when repeated, exposes the slow fading of true values in the mind. The key to decisive will power, as Father Lindwo~sky has so strikingly demons.t~a.ted,1 lies in the vital realm of motivation. One's spiritual motives or values may have become, distant relatives living in the suburbs of the mind, ac~n?wledged, recognizable -- but t~ken for granted. Such ¯ motives perhaps no longer m?tivate,, or at least are diminishing in their impact on daily thought a.nd conduct. New knowledge is not the primary need, nor some scheme for "developing will power" after the manner of strengthening a muscle. Rather, persuade those distant relatives to move once again into the immediate family, day by day and hour by hour. Deep., attentive meditation with our blessed Lord on the basic truths of existence becomes necessary. Such truths are presented to the mind and heart in the annual retreat when reflections are made on the purposes of the vows, on our origin and diVine destiny, on the practices of religious life, on Christ's love as the only. happiness for the religiou~ soul. Possibly medi-tation has been failing to cut through the too-familiar exteriors of truths considered, and examinations of conscience may have ¯ lagged in their role of providing re-nourishment at crucial points in the exhausting day. Perhaps bit by bit the mind has slipped into the heresy that what Christ asks first is service, action, ~Johann Lindworsky, S.J., The Training of the Will (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1929). 266 September, 1959 CONQUERING SERIOUS SIN results, success, achievement -- an attitude more "at home" in General Motors -- failing in daffy practice to see that what He seeks is my whole mind, my whole heart, my whole soul -- in a word, myself. For that is what He has offered to me: Himself!. Temptation Topples Weak Motives Amid the undeniably wearing regimen of a long year teach-ing or nursing, the intimate grasp of the mind on basic truths, and above all on Him whom we love can falter. All feel this in greater or lesser degree. Add a sizeable f~ding of spiritual values with a startling growth, on a particular occasion or over an ex-tended period of time, in vividness of some temptation and trouble may loom just ahead. Or again, if sound and cherished values fade, the onslaught of some unforeseen crisis -- whether with superiors, students, declining health, or something similar -- will find human nature subtly craving compensation. If Christ becomes remote, thickets of temptation will crop up close. These foregoing notions, largely based on the scientific research of Lindworsky, a renowned priest-psychologist, find an interesting echo in the distinguished spiritual author, Father Edward Leen: "We fail, not because our wills are irresolute "or our passions strong -- but because we allow our intelligence to be obscured as to the meaning and purpose of life.~ It is no~ s0~ much our will that is at fault as our intelligence.'"-' If such notions seem to some an overly-academic approach to a concrete problem of serious sin, it may be noted that there is little of novelty here. Christian philosophers have been teach-ing for centuries that the will, although capable of free action, is nevertheless deeply dependent on what the intellect points out as desirable or not desirable for me l~ere and now. If a religious decides on such a check of his or her sense of spiritual values, on exterior observance, and consequently on union with Christ our Lord, it will be well to review also habitual performance in .situations calling for patience, for consideration of the feelings of others. A sharp tongue, a trigger-quick temper, a habit of freely commenting on the actions and personalities of others (always a gentle boost to one's own hungry ego) -- these cannot be ignored when clear signs appear for a necessary 2E-~-war~ Leen, In the Likeness of Christ (London: Sheed and Ward, 1936), p. 223. 267 JOHN C. SCHWARZ Review for Religious strengthening in any area of a religious life. Just as in the physical side of human life health means the well-being of all .parts, so spiritual sickness is easily caused by the collapse of any single part with a resultant weakness poisoning the entire system. Prescription: over-all strengthening. Such an over-all strengthening may come at high cost. But let a religious take heart whatever the cost. Our companion on the way is He who three times lifted Himself in agony from the dust.y road in Jerusalem and did not falter even at the blood-dimmed view of Calvary rising before Him. And this for me! as Paul exclaims. Courage is Christ's, a precious gift available to all who come to Him for it. Let a religious take heart, moreover, in the realization ~hat his or her will remains a powerful faculty ready to serve. That will-power is not debilitated, not collapsed, not "weak." But motives may have grown pallid. The will itself remains in normal condition. One has perhaps previously read such small testings of will .power as, "Couldn't you refrain from this or that for-bidden action if you were assured of death in its next perform-ance?" Seriously reflecting on such a'n eventuality, one is generally prompt to concede that such a motive (note!) would prove a quite effective spur. The will would briskly respond. Motives of a social nature, for one consecrated to Christ, should hold a special attraction. Blessings for souls on earth or in purgatory can be merited abundantly by sacrifice of self. Hopeless millions in the nation's slums, prisoners languishing in Communist camps, the afflicted and confined in a tSousand in-stitutions -- to submit but a few examples -- all these need Christ; and all can be helped wonderfully by the powerful prayer of self-discipline for and with Christ. Alertness in Temptation A further point of considerable moment in combating an inclination drawing a person toward the vortex of sin: prudent, alert conduct in time of temptation. A down-deep reluctance to wrench oneself from an unlawful attraction of some sort or another or a habit of delaying, of dallying and wondering -- such are the gradual weakenings which are the prelude to collapse and inevitable anguish of soul. Said Byron: "There are no 268 September, 1959 CONQUEt~ING SERIOUS SIN pleasures which the world can give comparable to those it can take away." On conduct in temptation, Fr. Gerald Kelly, S.J., observes: "A not uncommon source of mental disquiet among religious is the fact that they develop the habit of 'playing close to the line,' of taking 'little chances' in their reading, their entertainment, and so forth. Half-heartedness in the observance of chastity induces interior conflicts, even when it does not lead to open mortal sin.''3 Here obviously is a point for serious self-examina-tion: has one a set policy of nog only avoiding, but shying far from that which tempts? The Sacred Heart spoke to Margaret Mary in unmistakable words of half-hearted religious. He is whole-hearted. It is essential to see clearly the occasion of sin which has proven dangerous, to have clearly in mind, honestly and openly, that this or that place, reading, time of day, situation, or com-bination of circumstances can cause temptation to grow intense. Facing this fact, the wise person will either exert every possible effort to trace a wide path around the trouble zone, or, if that be impossible, at least halt for a brief moment of recollection and prayer beforehand. Even staunch St. Peter experienced one of the great agonizing falls in Christian history when he lingered in a hostile courtyard. Such courtyards await in every life, but many wisely learn from Peter to shun them. Reaction to temptation, though without panic or nervous-ness, should be instinctive. I become suddenly aware that my hand rests on the sizzling stove. Do I calmly reason, debate the issue, "Well, should I keep it there or not?" Rather, the reaction is swift, instinctive. Let there be an equal, recoil before tempta-tion. Of a married man, sincerely devoted and faithful, novelist Stephen Vincent Bengt wrote: "And there comes a time, no matter what the intention, when a new face heaves into view and a spark lights. I'm no Adonis, God knows, but it's happened to me once or twice. And I know what I do then. I run. I run like a rabbit. It isn't courageous or adventurous or fine . But I run. Because, when all's said and done, it takes two people to make an affair and you can't have it when one of them's not there." 31954 Proceedings of the Sisters' Institute o[ Spirituality (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1955), p. 102. 269 JOHN, C, SCHWARZ Review for Religious. In time of difficulty and temptation some 'relief may be achieved by physical change, taking a "break" for a few moments, fresh air, getting up, walking ---all such sudden motion and switch of environment jars the growing mood with which tempta-tion fascinates the mind and paralyzes the will. This fracture of mood discourages temptation even when it does not dispel it altogether. If one is alone, a companion to talk with might be found. If one is.idle, a quick recourse to interesting work or some engrossing distraction of mind often helps. A handy book or periodic.al may assist. The airline pilot, warned of a storm area ahead, does not make a simple act of trust in the capacities of his ship. He alters his course, avoids heavy weather altogether if humanly possible. He knows too much is at stake for a gamble. A Prayer-in-Action Present-day psychiatrists wisely warn against excessive focusing on problems such as are under consideration here. A worrisome :preoccupation with such matters only adds to their damage. Psychiatrists suggest rather that at least equal attentiOn be turned to the person's general outlook on life some-what in the manner suggested earlier in this article (on the refreshing of motives and values). Everyone concedes the in-juriou~ effects-of brooding, for instance, over this or that possi-bl~ gyrhptom of illness. If you don't truly have the affliction, v~oric)i inay soon obtain it for you; and if you do have it, worry may double it. The same thing occurs in the spiritual life. But this is not to outlaw intelligent concern and intelligent attention go the meanS Of disciplining whatever conduct is intolerable in life. An aid in this direction will be a limited, reasonable plan of self-restraint. How might this be done? Suppose a religious determines to undertake some small denial of pleasure or inclination twice each morning and twice again in the second half of the day, each time offering the peaceful decision to our Lord as a prayer, a prayer-in-action, begging iiumbly the needed grace of selfconquest for His sake. This will impose no weighty burden, attract no attention, cause no morbid focusing on the problem. Bypassing some item at table, assisting another when inconvenient to do so, postponing a desired relaxa-tion for ten.minutes, knuckling down to a task for which attrac, tion is absent, and, perhaps best of all -- an appalling suggestion offer.e.d with apologies-- arising promptly with the unfriendly 270 September, 1959 CONQUERING SERIOUS SIN clamor of the morning bell! Each of these, c~upled with a short aspiration of loving prayer, will recall to mind and heart that my true motives .aim always in one direction only. This is not suggested as the fa~miliar development of virtue "by repeated will acts." Rather, this is the conscious development of intimacy with our Lord by offering deliberate expressions of love to Him repeatedly. These expressions of love are offered in actions, in which I place Him first, my own inclinations second. This is prayer-in-action. A check can profitably be made at noon and at night: "Did I make my prayer-in-action twice, or more?" Let this check be made strictly, renewing then the Morning Offering and the Mass offering as well -- and return happily to duties "through Him, and with Him, and in Him." A Loving Lord Within Our Catholic faith highlights God's revelation to us that when the soul is in the state of grace God Himself dwells in that soul in a very special, intimate manner. God is her.e: Fat, her,, Son, and Holy Spirit -- all Three; and my heart especially re-sponds to the presence of the eternal Son .whos, e perso.n.~al lo~y_e has changed and colored my entire life. He is here, right, here, in the truest sense, a companion, a source of strength, a fortress against loneliness and that illusion of isolation which tl~e shock. of sin can bring. Father DeJaegher's little volume, One With Jesus (Westminster: Newman, 1948), will provide powerful assistance to many in attaining a new depth of insight into what God's indwelling can mean for daily living. The basic fact that God Himself dwells within can and must be a source of that st.rength which only a person who loves and is loved possesses, in the face of tdmptation. The human heart craves love, to love and be loved with true concern, personal attention and attachment. Christ offers us such love if only we will look to Him, clearly seeing the Heart of hearts offered to us. For that love, every earthly sacrifice is paltry in comparison. Great singleness of heart, supercharged with" Christ'-s grace, releases within any human personality power otherwise unsuspected. Singleness of heart: a Frances Xavier Cabrini~ a Matt Talbott or Therese of Lisieux, a Cornelia Connelly or 271 Philippine Duchesne, an Isaac Jogues,. Charles de Foucauld, or Elizabeth of the Trinity. These had one love only. Even in secular life, models of astounding singleness of determination are readily found: a Charles Lindbergh on his epic Atlantic flight, fighting the deadly paralysis of fatigue, doing cramped calisthen-ics in his narrow cockpit, reciting endless multiplication tables, and triumphing. For love of our Lord, then, a blueprint has been submitted for constructing (or re-constructing) an interior citadel against the lethal foe, serious sin. That blueprint outlines four basic steps: (1) A general check on fundamental spiritual truths. Love needs reasons. Familiar truths must be revitalized; familiar motives must sink new roots. (2) Prudent, alert conduct in the presence of t.emptation. (3) A new plan of self-restraint as love's prayer-in-action. (4) Insistent recollection of God truly within. For Christ's love is our whole existence, and our love must flow into action. The apostles, recall, had fished all the night in vain, without the Lord. But when He appeared, it took only a word, a change of approach, and success overwhelmed them. Thus He proved once again that He is indeed the way, the truth, and the life. For religious most of all, Christ is our way, our truth, and surely our very life if we wish to be "the truest of all lovers." 272 Perpetual, Vows Hu~jo J. Gerleman, S.J. IN HIS POEM, "The Ballad. of the White H6rs~," G. K. Ches-terton probes into .the radical differences between the spirit of Christianity and the spirit of pagan]sin -- old and new. One of the marks that he sees in the true Christian is his fidelity to his plighted word: And whether' ye swear a hive of monks, Or one fair wife to friend, This is the manner of Christian men, That their oath endures th~ end. [Bk. V, ll. 2~6-79] Therefore, by this sign will men know. ~'the ba~bari~an come again," that he will be fickle, unstable in his i~romises, .untrue to his vows and oaths. There is no way of knowing exactly what generation of men Chesterton wished to brand with his characterization of the neopagan, but one wonders whether our present generation may not have been included in his vision. Certainly when we consider the present attitude toward the marriage vow, we see what was once regarded as a sa~red and lasting obligation made frequently a matter of a passing whim. There is no need to give the.statistics of divorces since they are so well known. We also know that to some extent even Catholics have been affected by this plague of inconstancy in marriage~ Has this easy attitude towards a sacred and serious promise infiltrated even into the religious life? I have no ready statistics in the matter, but I think it safe to say that even religious are not immune to the tendencies of the age in which they live. Certainly the standard of living in a country, the level at which luxuries and comforts are enjoyed, affects the poverty of religious. Likewise ff a spirit of independence and impatience of restraints prevails in an age, it will make its influence felt on the religious. So it would not be surprising if infidelity to marriage vows and a general restlessness and instability in the face of difficulties, both so noticeable in many. men and women in our times, would 273 HuGo J. GERLEMAN Review for Religious find a counterpart in the lives of religious. Rather it would be surprising if this were not the case. 'It seems in a true sense that the spirit that should enter into the making of a vow is counter to a spirit that is running through our age. One element expected in the spirit with which vows should be taken can be typified by the common expressions, "to burn your bridges behind you," "to put your back to the wall."~ .Those expressions are obviously taken from warfare, from-battle, from fight against strong forces. Those warriors who burn their bridges behind them and who put their backs to the-wall cut off all chance of retreat. To survive they must overcome the enemy that confronts them. They have said "no" to their fears and to any possible cowardice. They are giving themselves psychological support by cutting off avenues of escape which poor human nature is prone to take. They, as it were, .force themselves to be brave -- now they have to fight it out. Whe~a person makes a vow, he does a like thing. He freely promises God to do the better thing; at the same time he realizes that he will come upon difficulties in making good his promise. In order to forestall the weakness of vacillating human nature, he wants to assure:himself of an undeviating will that will secure the performance of-the act under all circumstances. For this purpose he freelyobinds himself under sin to carry out what he is promis: ing. In-thus stabilizing his will by the vow we may say that he is putting his back to the wall, that he is burning his bridges behind ,him He is ~now committed to bravery, to heroism, if need-be, in meeting the attacks on his resolve. There are;~of course, many other considerations that enter the mi'nd and' affect the heart of one taking a vow. The vow, after all, is a means to an end. Through it the person taking the vow certainly wishes to give special honor to .God, to bind him-self more closely to his Creator, to be united to Him more in-timately in charity, and so om But with all these there is the intention to establish himself enduringly in his resolution, to confirm his will when difficulties arise. Stability of will, fidelity to his .promise-iso-what he is seeking. This ~otive has a place in the taking of every vow, but it has a special place i'n the taking of perpetual vows. Why this is so is perfectly clear. A perpetual vow means that perpetually, ¯ for all :the days of life left to a man, he is bound under sin to keep 274 September, 1959 PERPETUAL VOWS his promise to God. He deliberately wanted this, .freely bound~ himself. It means that, as far as :his own will is~ c?ncerne~, no change can be made; he is free to move in .only on~ direc~tion. He must until his dying day (when it is a question .of .the vows of religion) will to be poor, chaste, obedient. If he does not, he is unfaithful to his promise. This finality of his exc.lusive, dboice is what makes his vows perpetual. . . Of course, there is the possibility ~that in ~spite of the firm will-set of the religious an objective difficulty becomes manifest that is an impediment to the perpetual living' of his vow~s. In that case there is place for a dispensation by competent authority. - But it is an objective difficulty; therefore, as far as the.will of the individual is concerned, it can tend in only one direction until it is clear that the will of God indicates another way of life. This is all very obvious, but it is ~trap~ely tr~i~'"'that in the day-to-day living of one's life a person can let even the° obVious become blurred or keep it in the far corner of consciousness.' There have been not a few religious who V~ere boundby perl~etual vows but who gradually, almost imperceptibly~ s~arted .thinking in another way and lettihg their will tend in the.wrong direction. With this they began veering off the true course Of the religious life and hardly noticed it. As they became comfortable moving in their new direction, they began to depart even more from their religious ideals and manner of life. After some time .they found: themselves fully conscious of thinking and moving in an entirely different direction from that in which they~ shbuld" h~e:been tending. And they found that they were quite content' to be" in this condition. The thought of the finality of their selfgiving to God by perpetual vows had lost meaning by_then.:_T.he, will had been drained of its original decisiveness to be faithful-to:the end: Then difficulties, temptations, counter-attractions became, argu-ments for giving up their way of life. They .ended .by wanting to be dispensed from their vows . "" When a religious comes to such a pass, it:.might seem that the only sensible thing to do is to get that dispensation. NoW it may very well be that on the part.of the institute this becomes desirable; for when a member has lost the spirit of-the 'religious life, when the ideals of an intimate following .of Christ_ ar.~ gone, when it seems that he will not be content in religi.on,~-then the congregation or order may well judge, that the individua! is no longer a desirable member. This on the part of the institute, ° 275 Hugo J. GERLEMAI~ Review for Religious However, it seems that the individual ought to have the following truth clearly pointed out to him. He still has his per-petual- vows and is under the obligation, if it is at all possible at the stage at which he is, to recapture the spirit he has lost, to refashion the ideals he has let fade, to win back his peace and happmess in the following of Christ. This will no doubt require a hard struggle with himself. It will require humility, true reliance on God. The religious will have to pray and pray sin-cerely for the one thing needed just now. He may have to endure days of darkness and distress until God deigns to restore the light and peace that he has forfeited. It may seem to him that this is asking too much, ~hat it is laying too great aburden on weak human nature. Yet this is precisely what the obligation of his perpetual vow would demand. He solemnly promised to remain firm under difficulties, even those that are wholly or partially self-made. For his courage and comfort he may reflect that others have worked themselves out of a similar difficulty and recovered their original view and generosity to go on in pgace and happiness to the end in their vocation. Some seem to'fall into the state described above because of a r~ther unrealistic outlook on the vows of religion. They seem to imagine-- even though they have often been told the contrary -- that with the pronouncing of the vows difficulties in keeping them disappear, or at least are of such negligible force that one hardly notices them. Such a view, bf course, manifests a radical misunderstanding of the true nature of religious vows. As was said earlier, in a true sense it is precisely because real difficulties are exp.ected in one's striving for perfection that. the vows are taken. They are con-cerned with strong, dedp, hnd abiding human passions. It may be that these are somewhat dormant at the time the vows are pronounced, but it is rather to be expected that in the life of every religious at some time instincts and passions will reassert themselves, that the passion of sex, the passion of self-will arid independence, the passion of acquisitiveness will clamor for fulfillment, and that vehemently. This does not indicate that it was a mistake to take perpetual vows. It proves rather that it Was riot a mistake to take them -- they are now being experienced as necessary supports of the will to remain constant and faithful in a life of sacrifice, of generous self-giving to God. Now is just the time when the remembrance of them should give that help which weak human nature needs, if the religious is to remain 276 September, 1959 PERPETUAL VOWS faithful to the way of life which he has pledged in all seriousness to God. Right from the beginning, along with the deep conviction of the dignity and value of his intimate following of Christ in the life of the counsels, the religious ought to cultivate a growing spirit of fidelity and loyalty to God through the observance of his vows. He should keep his face set toward the mountain top of final perser~ierance in his way of life, as Christ set His face toward Jerusalem and the sacrifice to be consummated there. "But I have a baptism to be baptized with; and how distressed I am until it is accomplished" (Lk 12:50). " . . . he steadfastly set his face to go to Jerusalem" (Lk 9:51-52). And when the dread hour of His crisis came upon Him, He told His disciples: "But he comes [the prince of the world] that the world may know that I love the Father and that I do as the Father has commanded me. Arise, let us go hence" (Jn 14:31 ). And He went all the way, even to death on the cross. It is hoped that what has been said makes clear how great an error it is to have recourse too readily to the thought of a so-called "temporary vocation" as an easy way out of the obli-gations of one's perpetual vows. Authors who use the term surely wish to have the nature of such a vocation carefully under-stood. We are dealing with fallen human nature. When the vision of faith grows dim and the motives which depend on it become weak so that the person is no longer willing to face the true nature of the religious life and its demands, he may be inclined to hide his want of fidelity by thinking of himself as having only a "temporary vocation." This is readily granted by all, I believe, that even after a person has pronounced his perpetual vows, it can become ap-parent that there is a clear, objective difficulty in the way of continuing his religious life. Some loyal, determined religious have found that God in the mysterious designs of His providence apparently does not want them to go on as religious in spite of their own sincere will in the matter. The religious may be in certain danger of losing his mental health; he may not be able to succeed in the studies required in the institute that he has joined; his leaving may be necessary to provide for his parents who are in serious need. These and other objective reasons may exist that give grounds for the legitimate withdrawal from the religious life. Oftentimes this is experienced as a real hardship 277 HUGO J. GERLEMAN and is done against his own will, in the sense that it is only because of the conviction that such is God's will that he can bring himself to accept a dispensation from his vows. Such persons, of course, have no reason for any fear or anxiety. God knows their heart and their fidelity to the promise made to Him. He Simply has other plans for them. In His wise and loving ~r'oqidende He has allowed them to live for a period under re-ligious vows for their own ultimate good. Such then are sometimes called temporary vocations. But to use the term "temporary vocation" in any other sense, when there is question of perpetual vows, would seem to be a misnomer -- even something of a mockery. Certainly the religious cannot of his own volition, when the going becomes hard or interest is waning, determine that he has only a temporary vocation. As soon as he becomes conscious of entertaining such a thought, he should immediately reflect that, as far as his own will is concerned, he has left himself only one legitimate choice, and that is to fulfill the obligations of his vows to the end with the help of God. His vows are perpetual. This perpetual engage-ment can be terminated only if God so wills it. If the religious is not careful right at the start to confirm himself in his true posi-tion, he may gradually let himself be beguiled into a wrong way of th!nking. From the very first days of his religious life he ought to orientate himself in one direction and all along make sure of maintaining this orientation lest he allow himself to be thrown off course by the winds of adversity. God's attitude towards the taking of vows is revealed in the book of Ecclesiastes, where it is written: "If thou hast bowed.anything to God, defer not to pay it: for an unfaithful and foolish promise displeaseth Him: but whatsoever thou hast vowed, .pay it. And it is much better not to vow, than after a vow not to perform the things promised." (5:3-4) . St. Ignatius, who seems to have been the first to make the devotionabrenewal of the vows a matter of rule, gives the ex-ercise a threefold purpose: to increase the devotion of the religious, to renew in them the memory of the obligation by which they are bound to God, and to confirm themselves more solidly in their vocation (Constitutiones Societatis Jesu, IV, 5). The religious would .do well to recite each day the formula of his° vows and to renew in all sincerity the oblation he made of himself on the day he vowed to God perpetual poverty, chastity, and obedience. 278 Mother Anna Tabouret Sister Mary Kenneth, H.H.M. THE CONGREGATION of the Sisters of the Holy Humility of Mary is unique in the annals of American history in its ~mmigration to the United States as a community just ten short years after its French foundatiom The leader and the inspiration, the enthusiastic spark and the driving force of this daring venture, was a truly remarkable woman, Mother Anna Tabouret. Marie Tabouret was born December 1, 1828, in the peaceful little village of ~Nomeny in the province of Lorraine during the turbulent period of French history caused by the downfall of Napoleon. The shadow of tuberculosis darkened the Tabouret home in 1830 claiming the lives of an infant brother and the father, and threatening the life of the mother. Almost inevitably the two-year-old Marie became the undisputed center of attention in the bereaved household. - -- MariMe asdhaomueld T raebcoeuirveet ,a w seulli-taedbulec aetdedu chaetrisoenlf;, adnedte drmesinp.iete.d. hthea~t ill-health she herself tutored the child. Marie. proved to be so talented in music that by the.age of five she had mastered the fundamentals of this art. Although the mother saw the necessity of education, her maternal love blinded her to the child's most obvious need -- discipline. Marie grew accustomed to having all her desires gratified and her whims satisfied. With a child's keen sensitivity to adult weakness she .was quick to tak~ ad-vantage of her mother's love and her own delicate health. If she were crossed or her wishes thwarted, she would put her hand dramatically over her heart and exclaim, "Mon coeur! Mon coeur!" All thought of punishment would then be forgotten. The family housekeeper, a frequent witness of Marie's' temper, tried in vain to convince her mistress that such willfulness needed to be curbed. The child's legal guardian, appointed by her father; joined his counsel to that of the housekeeper; and finally it.was agreed that Marie should be sent to the village school where she could mingle with boys and girls of her own age. In class Marie learned to her astonishment that the other children were not impressed by her Cry of "Mon coeur!"; on the contrary; 279 SISTER MARY KENNETH Review for Religious they placed a much higher value on strength than they did on weakness. Thus the first restraint upon her strong, will was imposed by her school mates who made it clear to Marie that her own will could not and would not always prevail. When Marie was twelve her mother died and the grief-stricken orphan was taken to live with her guardian. Her frail constitution, further weakened by loneliness and sorrow, made her an easy victim to typhoid fever. After long weeks in bed and longer months of supposed recuperation, it was discovered that a serious curvature of the spine had developed to further impede her recovery. Although unable to attend school regularly for some years, she was able to receive her first Holy Communion with the other children of her age. On this day of days her heart was sad and lonely while her body was still weakened by illness, but she poured out all the desolation and sadness of her soul in prayer to the God truly present within her. When her health improved, she was sent to Paris to study at the Conservatory of Art and Music where she majored in piano and organ and where her talents were recognized as ex-traordinary. Sorrow again appeared in her life when her trusted guardian absconded with a portion of her inheritance. Although stunned by this unexpected treachery, Marie managed to com-plete her education by a prudent management of her finances. During the latter part of her stay in Paris she became the penitent of the great Dominican, Lacordaire, an opportunity which was one of the most powerful and influential graces of her entire life. His influence upon her spiritual development was to be almost limitless, transcending both time and place. His oft-repeated admonition to those who sought his advice was, "Strive to live always on the highest level of spiritual endeavor." Later she was to hand down this advice as a precious tradition to her community. At the completion of her education, she returned to her native province where she became organist and choir directress for several village churches. To an onlooker, and perhaps even to herself, her life seemed already set in its future course; but in reality her life work had not even begun. The first link in the chain of events which would forever unite the destiny of Marie Tabouret with that of a future religi-ous community was forged in her meeting the Reverend John 280 September, 1959 MOTHER ANNA TABOURET Joseph Begel. Through her work as parish organist she came into contact with this scholarly priest, pastor of two small adjoining parishes, who was deeply concerned with the religious education of the children under his care. Although Napoleon III had per-mitted passage of a bill returning education to the control of the Church, he was secretly anticlerical and was merely biding his time. Father Begel had obtained permission to use the town hall of Dommartin-sous-Amance for his religion classes; but as Napoleon's true attitude became more evident, this permission was rescinded. The problem of finding another suitable place for the classes was solved when Mlle. Antoinette Potier, a well-educated and well-to-do woman of Dommartin, offered the use of her home. She welcomed this chance to be of service to the poor of the village; and when Father Begel's :efforts to obtain religious teachers failed, she provided a home for a lay teacher, Julia Claudel, whom he employed. When the actual work of the ~chool began, Mlle. Claudel was assisted by the mistress of the house, An-toinette Potier, and her faithhfl house-keeper, Marie Gaillot. These three ladies, united by their common interest in the school, soon requested of Father Begel a simple program of daffy re-ligious practices which they might perform together. Through Father Begel, Marie Tabouret became acquainted with the school in the Potier home and was introduced to the three women who were conducting it. As she listened to Father Begel explaining his dream of providing qualified teachers for the poor and neglected villages of France, her own enthusiasm and interest were enkindled. In the quiet-spoken Antoinette Potier were detected the lineaments of a great sanctity already being proved in the crucible of physical suffering caused by tuber-culosis. As Marie considered Father Begel's ideals and then studied the gentle way in which these ideals were being brought to actuality, she was filled with a desire to be a part of this great work. At the age of twenty-seven.she received Father Begel's permission to join the little group. Soon other young women joined in the aposto!ate and Father Begel was able to staff schools in both of his parishes. When Mlle. Potier, on behalf of the others, asked for a more definite rule and a completely religious manner of life, Father Begel gave them a sodality manual to follow and suggested that they wear a blue uniform in honor of our Lady. On the feast of the 281 SISTER MARY KENNETH Review for Religious Assumption, 1855, the group assisted at Mass in the village chapel, dressed in a blue merino uniform with a cape of the same material, a white collar, and a simple peasant cap. They thus attracted no unwanted attention from an unfriendly government. During the next three years Father Begel studied the regu-lations of other congregations and finally drew up a constitution which he submitted to the bishop. On August 29, 1858, the bishop approved their rule but not the suggested title of the congre-gation. He wrote, "You propose to give to it the name of the Assumption of Mary. Permit me, M. le Curd, to submit there-upon my thought. I should prefer a name less high sounding and I would propose to name these daughters the Daughters or Sisters of the Holy Humility of Mary." Until this formal approval Was granted, the sisters had been permitted to make only private vows; but now four of their number pronounced public vows in the little chapel at Domo martin. They wore for the first time a starched white cap with a fluted frill, a black veil, and a silver band ring. On this occasion Antoinette Potier received the religious title of Mother Magdalen and Marie Tabouret became Sister Anna. Of this happy day, Mother Anna was later to write: "At last the day of our perpetual vows. It witnessed our solemn consecration to God. True we had vows but being only condi-tional we were in constant apprehension of being obliged to separate despite the bonds of charity which united us. Our union of views, our common desire to promote the greater glory of God, to instruct the poor, ignorant and abandoned children in small localities, to assist the poor and the sick out of our own poverty, to endure this poverty, humilition, and self-denial of both soul and body. But what of all this? Now we are permitted to consecrate ourselves to Jesus, soul, body and mind. What matters hardship?" ~ :When the community numbered twelve professed members, the sisters were able to staff four schools in the area, a seeming indication that their work was taking a firm root in the soil of France. As Napoleon's true attitude toward the Church became more and more evident, Father Begel courageously attacked the duplicity of the Emperor; and his refusal to permit the singing of the Te Deum in thanksgiving for the seizure of the Papal States resulted in the loss of his two pastorates. He was forced 282 September, 1959 MOTHER ANNA TABOURET to confine his priestly activities to the direction of the new re, ligious community; and the authorities then struck back in-directly by refusing the sisters teaching certification and by hampering their work in other small, annoying ways. At this time of crisis Father Begel received a request for the sisters to go to America to teach at a settlement of French immigrants in Louisville, Ol~io. Four of the sisters volunteered;. but as their difficulties with the government increased, it was: suggested that all might migrate. Bishop Amadeus Rappe (~f Cleveland wrote that he would welcome the entire community to his diocese. Sister Anna was greatly interested in the American venthre;- but she feared that the trip would be too strenuous for Mother Magdalen, whose health was rapidly failing. Mother Magdalen saw in the Bishop's invitation an answer from God to all their problems and prepared to sell her property to pay the expenses itnimvoel vweads itnh es ufcuhtu arne ucanrddeirntaakl,i nCgh.a Trlhees BLiasvhiogpe roief ,N daensctiyn eadt tthoi:s' further the progress of the Church in Africa by the foundation of the White Fathers. When the sisters consulted Bishop Lavi-gerie, he congratulated them on their fulfillment of his dearest dream, a missionary apostolate. Mother Magdalen directed the preparations for the trip, even to. the packing of her own trunk, although it was obvious to all that her death was near. On May 7, 1864, the saintly found-ress died, quietly and serenely, after making her act of resigna-~ tion to the will of God. Father Begel, the co-founder of the infant community, was almost inconsolable, Immediately the° community was involved in litigation as Mother Magdalen's relatives endeavored to break the provisions of her will. When their efforts proved successful, the little band of sisters was left practically destitute. In the dilemma and confusion resulting from Mother Magdalen's death and the loss of her property, Sister Anna, now appointed Mother, became the pillar and the support of the community. Behind her firm hand which grasped the reins of government was a brilliant mind equipped with unusual fore-sight and practical wisdom to cope with the multitudinous prob-lems that beset them. Physically she seemed inadequate for the task, b~it spiritually she was equal to the challenge of each new 283 SISTER MARY KENNETH Review for Religious day. She saw the futility of staying in a land where government opposition prevented them from doing the work of God. She realized the folly, humanly speaking, of going to America without funds of any kind; but when Bishop Rappe wrote, "You will find in America the same unfailing Providence you found in France," she placed herself and her community confidently in the hands of God. At the end of May, 1864, the little group, including Father Begel, ten professed sisters, one novice, and four orphans, sailed from Le Havre for America. As France grew smaller and smaller, finally fading entirely from view, they realized that they would never see their home land again. The voyage was further.saddened by the death of one of the orphans; and as Mother Anna gazed at the still little form, it seemed to her that the first link with France was already broken. The travelers arrived in New York on June 14, 1864. Bewil-derment at their inability to comprehend even a single word being spoken around them added to the confusion they felt as they waited, penniless and homeless, for official entry into the country. Their actual destination was Louisville, Ohio, where they received a heart-warming welcome from the enthusiastic French settlers. Father Begel, leaving the sisters at Louisville, went on to Cleveland to consult with Bishop Rappe. Upon his return Father Begel announced that the community was to be given the opportunity to purchase a farm of two hundred fifty acres in Pennsylvania. He glowingly conveyed Bishop Rappe's description of the fine 'brick building which was already on the property and praised the graciousness of the Bishop in making the offer to them. In his account of the farm, Father.Begel omitted mention of the fact that other communities attempting to live there had been forced to abandon the place because of its desola-tion, inaccessibility, and the difficulties involved in farming the swampy and rocky ground. Leaving two of their number at Louisville to teach the children of the French immigrants, the other sisters cheerfully and enthusiastically journeyed on to their new home. The sight that greeted them was enough to daunt the courage of the bravest. The property did indeed boast the praised brick struc-ture; but surrounding the building for acre upon acre were unhealthful swamps and thick, dense woods. The road leading 284 September, 1959 MOTHER ANNA TABOURET to the front door was nothing but a muddy path overgrown with weeds; the front yard was a marsh filled with rotting tree stumps: Vegetation of all kinds struggled for life, but the wild unconquered growth was far different from the trim lawns and neat gardens" of their beloved France, It was here in this hostile wilderness that the true qualities of Mother Anna's character reached their full flowering. With-out money, without friends, speaking a foreign language, she began a foundation that endured and prospered. Humanly,. her task seemed impossible, her obstacles insurmountable; but with' an unwavering, confidence in God she set herself to the work of accomplishing the impossible for His honor and glory. Her sound .practical judgment decided that the clearing 6f the land must be their first task if they were to survive at all From daw~ to dusk they labored -- these gentlewomen whose hands had been trained for the needle,rather than the plow. As they worked in the fields, felling trees, draining swamps, or plant-ing seeds, they sang hymns or played, the rosary. A potato crop was Mother Anna's first objective; .and when this harvest failed, dark days of misery and hunger descended upon the .community. Their troubles seemed to increase from day to day wi~h illness striking both sisters and orphans. This was the ~eriod" of which Mother Anna was to say, ~"Thing's were *too black to permit our feeling blue:" Finally she realized that thei~ 'affairs had reached such a crisis that unless help was forthcoming the whole venture would dissolve in failure. Her efforts to convince Father Begel of their dire situation had been unsuccessful as his only solution was the advice, "Take one more ~rphan and God will provide,for His own." Mother,Amia was willing to suffer any hardship to ensure the success of their° mission; .but when the very life of the congregation seemed at stake, she was cer-tain that the hour for action had struck. Without consulting Fathe~ Begel, she set off for Cleveland with Sister Odile and Sister Mary of the Angels. They walked. barefoot along the muddy ruts of the road into Youhgstown,~ Ohio, a distance of twelve miles, stopping at a creek to wash their feet and don their shoes before proceeding to the depot. After a trip on the night train, they arrived in Cleveland where kindly pedestrians directed' them from corner to .corner until they arrived at the Bishop's house. His amazed expression 285 SISTER MARY KENNETH Review for Religious prompted a speedy explanation of why they had come, unan-nounced, unexpected, uninvited: They blurted out their hopeless dilemma ~strangers .in d strange land -- no means of support -- no. means of communication with their American neighbors -- no food --- the failure of their crops-- the sickness of the orphans. Later Sister Odile was to admit, "I disgraced the community by sobbing aloud." -~- The bishop listened attentively and then asked, "What if I bid you remain and do the best you can, relying on Divine Providence?" Mother Anna replied, "We would obey, Bishop, but we have not sufficient food, clothing, nor bedding. We have orphans." We have sick ;sisters and sick children. Bishop, please, tell Father Begeltoi~ta~ke us home. France will not let us starve." The bishop gave them a small sum of money; but far more important, l~e assured them that if they. would remain and trust in_God, their, obedience would be r~warded. Perceiving in his words the ex.p~essed will of God, Mother Anna returned to the Vill~ and united all the efforts of the struggling community in a concentrated act of obedience. In an amazing way, the seemingly hopeless situation of the sisters began to improve. Everything thai Mothdr Anna's hand touched seemed to prosper; her will wbuld not admit defeat when she was acting under obedience. The wild, uncUltivated land gave way when faced with her de-termin_ at~ionto establish productive gardens and fruitful orchards. She worked side by side with the sisters in the field, laughing with this one, coaxing another, but always watchful that the work~progressed. . i .Wh.e~ m~ o~re o.r.phans arrived than could be cared for properly, she enlarged the housing facilities for both sisters and children. After two additions to the convent she had a suitable chapel erected for the Blessed Sacrament. She kept down building costs by producing the necessary materials on the farm itself. A saw mill-was built in the woods~ and she sought expert advice in select-ing .the trees to .be felled. The better lumber was then set aside to be seasoned for future buildings. A brick kiln. was erected in the front yard, and she herself sup~ervised the makir.g of the bricks. -. One of the most startling decisions for the little French community was Mother Anna's determination that they should become Americanized as completely and as quickly as possible. 286 September, 1959 MOYHER ANNA TABOURET She was convinced that all must learn the English language if they were to be effective in a teaching apostolate; and when a teacher of English was hired, she herself set the pace in acquiring a second tongue. At a time when money was very scarce she paid the necessary fee to have the community incorporated in the state of Pennsylvania. Her foresight in this particular matter was completely incomprehensible to her compatriots. When the deadly scourge of smallpox struck at the neigh-boring countryside, Mother Anna led the sisters into the homes of their American neighbors to nurse the victims of the epidemic. Thrusting aside all thought of personal contagion_ and fear, she turned all available convent space into hospital wards for the children. All through the long days and interminable nights of the siege, the sisters, under Mother Anna's leadership, fought the treacherous foe of infect_ion which had invaded the homes of the sick. One of the oi'iginal account books lists the cost of smallpox medicine at eighty-two dollars. A small fortune for those days! The heroism of the sisters at this ~ime evoked the admiration of their neighbors~ Catholics and Protestants alike; and as a token of gratitude the city of Lowell~ille, Ohio, pre-sented the community with a small sum of money. The gift came at a most opportune time,-for Mother Anna was struggling with the problem of settling.the debt on the Villa property. In an effort to raise the necessary three thou~sand dollars, the sisters had been soliciting fundg from the workers on a railroad that was being constructed near the Villa. When the officials of the company heard of the sisters' need, they encour-aged their employees to contribute generously. It was in gr,atitude for this unexpected assistance that Mother Anna offered to have the sisters care for any railroad men who were'injured or" taken ill" on the job. ¯." A two-room addition tO Father Begel's house, served as the infirmary which became known to the railroaders-gs "The Sisters~' .Hospital up Lowell Hill." As word spread of the excellent car.e g~v~en by the sisters, a larger building with suitable equipment soon .be.came necessary. The foundress decided ~to erect a hospital on the Villa property which would be large enough for the increased number of railroad patients. With her natural instinct for business she formulated a plan by which she could finish the clearing of the 287. SISTER MARY KENNETH Review for ReligioUs Villa woods, utilize her saw mill, and acquire the needed building funds. She drew up a. contract with the officials of the railroad by which they agreed to buy from her all the railroad ties she could produce. The constant buzzing of the mill from early morn-ing to late evening proved that the little saw mill was now her greatest asset. To solve the labor problem Mother Anna hired the vagrants whose predominant fault had lost them their rail-road jobs. Always a prudent women, she exacted a pledge of each one as she hired him. "I'll never touch a drop of the ~ld stuff as long as you boss me," was the frequently repeated promise as the recruiting of workers progressed. Instinctively, these rough men yielded her a ready obedience. With the erection of the hospital the. apostolate of the sisters was extended to include the care of the sick; and as the scope of the community's labors was enlarged~ more postulants applied for admission. With the .increased membership Mother Anna was able to supply teaching sisters to the nearby towns in Ohio and P~ennsylvania. In 1870 a group of~ ~isters volunteered to go to the diocese of St. Joseph, Misso.u~._i, in response to the bishop's plea for teachers. After other ~ssions had been established in Missouri, it was decided that the western group should function as a separ~ate community. In 1871. the separation was approved, and the sisters in Missouri formed a~ distinct congregation whose motherhouse was later to be establi.shed at Ottumwa, Iowa. Although Mother Anna was an eminently practical womari dealing efficiently with the details of ev.eryday life, spiritual values always occupied the foremost place in her mind. The ideals inspired by Lacordaire ever urgdd her to keep both herself and her sisters on the. very highest planes of ~piritual endeavor. Her character was marked by a rugged virility which scorned the unusual and the spectacular; if she was firm with her daugh-ters, she was even more rigorous with herself. In her dealings with her subjects she could accurately gauge the severity with which they could be dealt, and she did not exact the same gener-osity from all. Her personal opinions never biased her deci~i0ns and her keen intellect was able to weigh all sides of a question dispassionately before reaching a final' decision. In the governing of her community she insisted upon absolute obedience, and re-joiced when she received it. Anything and everything that made her daughters happy contributed to M~ther Anna's own happiness. She often planned 288 September, 1959 MOTHER ANNA TABOURET surprises for the community recreation hour and announced one night that soon a benefactress from France would be coming to pay the d0mmunity a visit. This lady was a trusted friend of the sisters who not only was greatly interested in them but also was able to render them invaluable assistance. When the time for the visitor's arrival came, Mother Anna invited all the sisters to the parlor where a °beautiful statue of the Blessed Virgin, more than life-size, awaited them. As a pledge of the community's devotion to Mary, this statue was placed above the high altar of-.the chapel where it remains today. It is at the foot of the community's benefactress that on each recurring August fifteenth the Mother of God is proclaimed the "supreme superior" of the congregation in an act of consecr~ition composed by Father Begel and recited by the General Superior. In the twenty years of her superiorship Mother Anna had guided her community in its struggle from seemingly impossible beginnings to circumstances in which the sisters were able to serve effectively as instruments of God's providence in the fields of education and charity. During this time her own health, "always deScate, l~ad been further weakened by the hardships of establishing the foundation. By 1882 the community seemed firmly established in America as evidenced by the increasing number of American subjects and the increased number of missions. Mother Anna believed that the time had come for the sisters to hold a canonical election. She, therefore, asked the Bishop's permission to resign, giving as the reasons her failing health and her desire that the sisters might freely elect a superior. The sentiment of the community was strongly opposed to her resignation and to the election of a new superior. While awaiting the Bishop's reply, patiently and humbly, Mother Anna began making quiet preparations for her retirement by moving her sleeping quarters to the attic with the other professed sisters. She seemed impelled b~ a powerful intuition that her retirement was near. The validity of her presentiment was apparent to a~l on July 1, 1883, when Mother Anna was stricken with a complete paralysis of her lower limbs. The Bishop, now compelled by the hand of God, accepted her resignation and presided over the election of her successor, Mother Odile. Mother Anna cheerfully resigned herself to the will of God and with characteristic foresight made plans for her new life as 289 SISTERMARY KENNETH Review for Religious an invalid. Her heart knew no idleness as it was constantly given to prayer, but she must have occupation not only for her mind but for her hands as well. After sorting and arranging the voluminous correspondence of Father Begel, she wrote an in-valuable life of the founder, who had died in 1884 and who had been replaced by his nephew, the Reverend Nicholas J. Franche. In addition to her writing she was now able to utilize her knowl-edge and love of music, and an organ was brought into her room to enable her to teach the young sisters the principles of harmony and theory. During the hours remaining after music lessons, thousands and thousands of postage stamps were cut, sorted, and packed for a community of Belgian missionaries. These priests used the stamps to make works of art which were then sold to ransom young African children. While busy with her stamps or needlework, the invalid was able to receive and enter-tain the many visitors who climbed to her attic room in search of advice or prayers. In the early days of her illness she had predicted that she would be an invalid as many years as she had been superior. The sisters laughed at this notion; but as the years passed on and death claimed more and more of the younger members, leaving Mother Anna to her life of suffering, many began to suspect the truth of her prophecy. She once confided to some of the sisters, "God has purposely forgotten that -He put me here in this corner. He sends me showers'of graces, but, you see, I owe Him a huge debt and have never been able to make a big payment. He is such a Good Master that instead of commanding His servants to bind me and cast me into the outer darkness He heeds my prayer, 'Be patient, dear Lord, and I will pay Thee all.' I must continue to work so that when He calls for me He will find me at my post:" For twenty long yea.rs she remained at her post, seeking no favors, asking no special services, denying' herself the luxuries of pity and idleness. Physically she had much to suffer; but the sufferings resulting from her difficult position in the community caused her~greater pain, for she still exercised tremendous power while ~ossessing no authority. Consulted by superiors and sub-jects alike,-she n~eticulously chose the prudent word so as to prevent wounding the charity of the community. Sometimes she reproached herself because the sisters were so very willing to serve her,.and she worried lest this service be rendered to her 290 September, 1959 MOTHER ANNA TABOURET personally rather than to" Christ through her. In .1902, as she approached her seventy-sixth birthday, some of the sisters recalled that her twenty-year prediction' was nearing its ful-fillment. Although Mother Anna had aged through the years as the paralysis progressed, the changes had been so gradual as to be almost imperceptible. Early in 1903 a severe cold led to pneumon-ia, and because her condition seemed critical she received the Last Sacraments. After the anointing she apparently regained her strength, but by May of that year it was obvious that her exile was almost over. When Mother Patrick, the General Superior, ¯suggested sending for Father Franche in order that she might be anointed again, the invalid merely replied, "As you will." The little girl who had screamed and stormed to have ¯ her own way, was now a woman of seventy-seven, eage~ bnly for the will of God. Father Franche hastened to the room of the "Saint of the Garret" as one priest had called her. She smiled as he approached the bed with the holy otis. After the anointing she received Holy Communion, and in about the time it would take to consume the Host she was dead. The Bridegroom had come and called for her at the "post" where she had been waiting for twenty years. Mother Anna was buried from the simple yet beautiful chapel that she herself had planned and erected. After the Requiem Mass the funeral procession passed down the ~ront yard which she had claimed from the wilderness, in front of the convent she had built, near the orphanage she had loved, past the hospital she had erected, in full view of the farmlands she had cleared, until .it reached the little cemetery she had plotted out for her daughters. She was buried near Father Begel, her friend in life and her companion in death. Over her grave her daughters erected a cross to let the world know that they had found The Valiant Woman. Future events were to prove the truth of their conviction. The tiny grain of mustard seed blown by the providence of God from the native soil of France to the strange, harsh ground of America has taken root and sprung up yielding more than seven hundred fifty professed members. "All these rise up and call her blessed." The status of the congregation, once diocesan, is now that of a pontifical institute, conducting elementary and 291 SISTER I~ARY KENNETH secondary schools, hospitals, confraternity classes, and a home for crippled children. The steady progress and consistent growth of the community, together with the efforts of her daughters to prove themselves worthy of so valiant a mother by the practice of holy humility are the best evidence for the validity of her epitaph: She hath looked well to the paths of her house; and hath not eaten her bread idle. (Prov 31:27) 292 Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S.J. IN THIS ARTICLE a summary will be given of the documents which appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (A_AS) during April and May, 1959. Throughout the survey all page references will be to the 1959 AAS (v. 51). Two Consistories On March 12, 1959 (AAS, pp. 177-83), John XXIII held two consistories. In the first, a public one, His Holiness bestowed the red hat on three cardinals who had been previously created on December 15, 1958. In the second and secret consistory the Pontiff confirmed Cardinal Tisserant as Camerlengo of the Sacred College for the year 1959; he likewise ratified the election of Bishop Paul Cheikho as Pa-triarch of Babylon for the Chaldeans, published the list of prelates appointed since the last consistory, bestowed three cardinalatial churches in Rome, and accepted various postulations for the pallium. Easter Messages On Holy Saturday evening, March 28, 1959 (AAS, pp. 241-45), the Vicar of Christ broadcast to the entire world the customary Easter message. The living Church, he told his listeners, is the ever-present confirmation of the Resurrection of Christ. Like her founder, the Church has experienced enemies who sought to entomb her; but also like Him she has always risen again. Accordingly, he said, the feast of Easter should lead Catholics to intensify their fidelity to the Church. But, he continued, Easter also has a message for thd spiritual life of each of the faithful. Easter, he pointed out, is a mystery of death and life; so it is that at this time each of the faithful is asked to die to sin by purify-ing his conscience in the sacrament of penance and then to nourish himself with the vivifying flesh of the immaculate Lamb of God. The next day (AAS, pp. 245-52) the Pope delivered an Easter homily during th~ Solemn High Mass which he celebrated in St. Peter's. Speaking first of the passion and death of Christ, the Pontiff Observed that the passion of Christ is both sacrament and example; it is the first because it contains and transmits the power of divine grace;, and it is the second because it prompts all of us to the practice of that patience of which Christ is the supreme teacher. Then reflecting on the Resur-rection, the Pontiff pointed out that in this mystery of Easter the 293 R. F. ~SMITH Review for Religious Master of life has triumphed over death and His victory is the victory of the Church throughout the ages. Accordingly Christians must face the future with confidence, in spite of all .the machinations of the Prince of Darkness. For the victory of Christ over death is our guarantee of victory over the obstacles to justice, liberty, and peace. Saints, Blessed, Servants of God Several of th~ documents of the April-May issues of AAS were devoted to St. Pius X. On April 11, 1959 (AAS, pp. 316-18), the Holy .Father sent a written message to the people of Venice on the occasion of his sending to that city the relics of St. Pius for a month's stay. The sending of the relics, said the Pontiff, fulfills the prophetic words spoken by the saint when he left Venice for the conclave at which he was elected Pope: "Dead or alive, I shall return." His Holiness went on to say that previous to his own election as Pope he had hoped to be buried in Venice near the tomb of St. Mark; since, however, that is now impossible, he expressed the wish to be buried in St. Peter's near the altar of Pius X, his predecessor both in Venice and in Rome. On May 10, 1959 (AAS, pp. 373-75), the Vicar of Christ broadcast to the Venetians a panegyric of St. Plus X at the conclusion of the month of devotions in his honor; and a similar panegyric (AAS, pp. 367-71) was preached by him in the Piazza of St. Peter's to the faithful who had gathered there to welcome back the relics of St. Pius after their stay in Venice; onthe same occasion the Pope also gave a panegyric in honor of St. John Bosco whose relics were being brought at the same time for a stay in St. Peter's. On April 12, 1959 (AAS, pp. 289-94), John XXIII performed the first canonizations of his reign by solemnly declaring the sainthood of Blessed Charles of Sezze (1613-1670), confessor, Franciscan lay brother, and of Blessed Juana Joaquina de Vedruna de Mas (1783-. 1854), widow, foundress of the Carmelite Sisters of Charity. During the Mass after the canonizations the Holy Father delivered a homily on the two saints. Using a thought from St. Francis de Sales to the effect that Christian devotion and sanctity can be reached by everyone no matter what his state or condition of life may be, the Pontiff proceed-ed to show how the two new saints admirably prove the Salesian doc-trine. St. Charles was of a poor family; St. Joaquina was of noble birth; St. Charles was a farm laborer; St. Joaquina was raised in surroundings with no lack of material things. Yet both the one and the other reached the heights of sanctity. On April 13, 1959 (AAS, pp. 304-07), the Pontiff delivered an. allocution to thbse who had attended the canonization on the previous day. The two saints, the Pope said, teach us that the things that are worthwhile are not the things of the world, nor human honor, nor nobility of family, nor wealth, but the will of God. 294 September, 1959 ROMAN DOCUMENTS On March 11, 1959 (AAS, pp. 325-27),' the Sacred Congregation of Rites issued a decree approving the two miracles required for the beatification of the Servant of God, Helen Guerra (1835-1914), foun-dress of the Oblate Sisters of the Holy Ghost (popularly known as the Sisters of St. Zita). On the same date (AAS, pp. 328-30) the same Congregation also approved the necessary miracles for the beatification of the Servant of God Mary Margaret d'Youville (1701-1771), foundress and first superior general of the Congregation of the Sisters of Charity (Grey Nuns). Five weeks later on April 19, 1959 (AAS, pp. 387-90), the Congregation issued the decrees stating that it was safe to proceed ¯ with the beatification of both the Servants of God mentioned above. Then on April 26, 1959 (AAS, pp. 337-42), John XXIII issued the apostolic letter, "Renovans faciem terrae," by which the beatification of Helen Guerra was proclaimed to the Church; in the document the Pontiff points out that Leo XIII was moved by the Blessed's zeal for devotion to the Holy Spirit to commend special prayers to all Catholics during the Pentecost octave and later to write the encyclical Divinurn illud munus on the Holy Spirit. On May 3, 1959 (AAS, pp. 343-48), His Holiness issued the official notice of the beatification of Mary Margaret d'Youville in the apostolic letter, Caritatis praeconium. In the notice of the beatification the Pontiff singled out charity to-wards others as the commanding trait of the new Blessed, a trait that merited for her the title of "the mother of universal charity." On April 27, 1959 (AAS, pp. 352-54),'the Vicar of Christ delivered an allocution to Luccan Catholics present for the beatification of Blessed Helen. Having recalled that she was the teacher of St. Gemma Galgani, the Pontiff said that as St. Margaret Mary was the divine instrument for spreading devotion to the Sacred Heart, so Blessed Helen was God's instrument for spreading devotion to the Holy Spirit. Her own life, he continued, was a luminous manifestation of the superabundant fruits which the Holy Spirit infuses into those who are docile to His action. He concluded by saying that the life of the Blessed has a vital lesson for today; we n~eed a new coming of the Holy Spirit, a new Pehtecost to renew the face of the earth. O.n May 4, 1959 (AAS, pp. 363-64), His Holiness gave an allocution to the Canadians present in Rome for the beatification of Blessed Mary Margaret d'Youville. Pointing out that she is the first Canadian-b0rn blessed, he urged his listeners to imitate her profound faith, her perfect living out of various states of life, and especially her intense and. supernatural love of the pobr, the sick, and the unfortunate of every kind. On November 20, 1958 (AAS, pp. 274-77), the Sacred C~ngrega-tion of Rites approved the introduction of the cause of the Servant of God Aloysius Palazzolo (1827-1886), priest, founder of. the Sisters of the Poor (Italy). On January 28, 1959 (AAS, pp. 27~-78), the same 295 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious Congregation approved the reassumption of the cause of Blessed Mar~ of Providence (1825-1871), virgin, foundress of the Helpers of the Holy Souls. To Priests and Religious On February 10, 1959 (AAS, pp. 190-95), the Roman Pontiff gave an allocution to the Lenten preachers of Rome, discussing with them the traits that should mark their preaching. Wisdom, simplicity, and chari-ty, he said, should mark the sermon work of a priest. Wisdom should be shown in the choice of subject matter and the Pontiff recommended the following for their sermons: sin and its punishment, private and pub-lic worship, the sanctification of Sundays and holy days, the duties of the married state, the education of children, respect for the human person. Simplicity, he continued, should lead them not to seek their own renown but to work for the instruction of their hearers, while charity should urge them to seek only one thing: to draw their listeners to the love of God. On March 12, 1959 (AAS, pp. 198-202), the Pontiff addressed the members of the Apostolic Union of the Clergy, pointing out to them that a priest before all else must be a man of God. Like Abraham, a priest has left his own home to seek the land of promise in which, if he is true to his vocation, he will find Christ and Him crucified. Scrip-ture and the EucharisL he continued, must be the food of the priestly life; speaking of the latter, he said: "There is no perfection nor true love of.God Or of Christ without a profound devotion to the Eucharist." He' concluded by reminding his listeners that their love for souls must lead them to prayer, contemplation, and penance, for "This kind is driven out only by prayer and fasting" .(Mk 9:28). On April 21, 1959 (AAS, pp. 375-81), the Pontiff delivered an exhortation by radio broadcast to the clergy of .Venice gathered in the Basilica of St. Mark to honor the relics of St. Pius X. His Holiness began by remarking that a priest is granted what is not given even to the angels. Accordingly a priest must reflect this dignity in every aspect of his life and conduct. He advised his listeners that care of their own soul, manifested in prayer, recollection, study of sacred doctrine, and careful use of the sacrament of penance, must come before every pas-toral preoccupation. He emphasized this point by quoting St. John Chrysostom: "If the priest possesses all the virtues, then he is like the best kind of salt; and with it the whole people can be seasoned. This - will be done by seeing the priest ~ather than by hearing him; for the first way to learn is by seeing the good; and the second way is by hear-ing it." The Pope concluded his exhortation by urging his listeners to continued loyalty to the Church and to the pursuit of all human values, natural and supernatural. 296 September, 1959 ROMAN DOCUMENTS On April 16, 1959 (AAS, pp. 307-13), the Pontiff delivered an allocution to all branches of the Franciscan family on the 750th anni-sary of the pontifical confirmation of the Franciscan Rule. All branches of the Franciscans, the Pontiff stated, .are faithful to the fundamental points of the original Franciscan Rule: poverty, obedience, charity. Franciscan poverty, he went on to say, emphasizes the serene joy that comes from the giving up of material possessions. Obedience, especially that to the Roman Pontiff, he continued, is a necessity of religious life; history shows that obedience to the Holy See has led to success in the life of religious orders, while lack of obedience has led to unfortunate states of insubordination and unruliness. Finally he noted that charity has always been the soul of the Franciscan missionary spirit; it has made of the members of the Franciscan family conquistadors of souls for the triumph of the name, love, and kingdom of Christ crucified. Messages on Various Subjects Under the date of February 15, 1959 (AAS, pp. 206-08), John XXIII sent a written message to the first Eucharistic Congress of Cen-tral America. The Eucharist, the Pontiff declared, infuses into the heart of man a new energy of supernatural love which strengthens while it purifies human love. The Eucharist unifies the entire man until there is created in each individual the perfect man, created to the image of God and conformed to. the example of His Son. Moreover, he added, the Eucharist also helps human relations; for by calming the tumults of the spirit, it leads to goodness, justice, and mercy. Finally the Eu-charist strengthens family life; since Christ's love has given us the sacrament of the Eucharist, it is there that the highest spiritual union between man and wife can be realized. On April 19, 1959 (AAS, pp. 313-14), the Vicar of Christ sent a radio message to the faithful of Belgium on the tenth anniversary of the Belgian radio program, "The Missionary Hour." His message to the Belgi.a. ns can be summarized in two quotations which His Holiness took from the writings of Plus XII: "The missionary spirit and the Catholic spirit are one and the same thing." "The Catholic vitality of a nation is measured by the sacrifices it makes for the cause of the mis-sions." A week later (A_AS, pp. 349-52) the Pontiff addressed a group of Italian women devoted to the assistance of missionaries. He told them that missionary cooperation today is. urgent and imperative, for the last ten years have been critical ones for missionary activity. He pointed out to his listeners that missionary cooperation is not exhausted by material aid; if it were, then the problem of the missions would be only a human problem. As it is, however, the problem is a supernatural one; and material help, while necessary, is neither the principal nor the only form of assistance. To such help there must be added prayer and 297 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious above all suffering. He concluded by reminding his audience that mis-sionary cooperation will not only help the missionaries but will also revitalize their own dioceses and parishes. On February 10, 1959 (AAS, pp. 205-06), John XXIII sent a writ-ten message to the First National Congress of Spain on the Family, telling the members of the Congress that three principal loves exist in the heart of man: conjugal love, parental love, and filial love; to harm these loves, he said, is to profane what is sacred and to lead to the ruin of one's country and of all of humanity. On March 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 195-97), the Pontiff addressed the Ninth National Con-gress of the Women's Italian Center; he reminded his listeners that the family finds its guardian and protector in the wife and mother of the family; hence in the face of present dangers to the family, they must as wives and mothers turn all their efforts to the preservation of family life. On May 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 355-59), the Pontiff gave an allocution to a group of Italian workers, telling them that true happiness consists in not losing sight of man's supreme goal; hence he urged them always to seek celestial things even when they endeavor to raise their level of living. OH March 18, 1959 (AAS, pp. 202-04), His Holiness addressed members of the International Symposium on Prophylaxis, assuring them that their work was a labor of real charity, since they endeavor to prevent those physical and psychical disturbances which obscure the splendor of the divine spark that is human reason. On May 4, 1959 (AAS, pp.359-62), John XXIII spoke to the participants in the Third Italian Congress of Catholic Newspapers and Periodicals. He urged his listeners to employ the arms of truth and of charity in their work and advised them to be kind even when fighting what is wrong according to the saying of St. Augustine: "Kill the error, but love the erring." He concluded by exhorting his listeners to publish works that will reflect the wisdom, love, and beauty of God. On April 11, 1959 (AAS, pp. 303-04), the Pontiff addressed an international group of war veterans; he told them that peace can not be decreed by any earthly power but mt~st flow from the interior of each individual man. On April 1, 1959 (AAS, pp. 299-301), the Pope spoke to members of the Federation of Catholic Universities; he pleaded with them to con-centrate on building up a strong wall against today's materialism, con-cluding by asking them to be Christ-bearers, since Christ is the apex of all knowledge. On the same day (A/KS, pp. 259-60) the Pontiff ad-dressed the Second Congress of Negro Writers and Artists. He encour-aged them in their study of the unity and responsibilities of a Negro- African culture. He pointed out, however, that the Church is not to be identified with any one culture, for her work is of another order -- that of the religious salvation of man. Nevertheless, he added, the 298 September,. 1959 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Church is always ready to acknowledge, welcome, and animate all that is to the honor of human intelligence. He concluded his talk by urging his audience to have sympathy for and to collaborate with other cultures. On April 7, 1959 (AAS, pp. 301-02), the Vicar of Christ ad-dressed the members of the First Ciceronian Congress. He told them that because so many today pursue the study of mathematics and of tech-nology, it is necessary to stress Latin and similar subjec.ts; otherwise men will become like the machines they make: cold, hard, loveless. On February 16, 1959 (AAS, pp. 204-05), the Pontiff delivered the first radio message to Japan from V.atican City Radio, urging Japanese Catholics to greater sanctity in their lives. Miscellaneous Documents A decree of the Sacred Consistorial Congregation, dated February 28, 1959 (AAS, pp. 272-74), provides that a~l military vicars should make an ad limina visit to Rome every five years. In a special document of February 18, 1959 (AAS, p. 228), the Holy Father appointed the members of a Commission to organize the coming diocesan synod of Rome. By the apostolic letter, Boni pastoris, February 22, 1959 (AAS, pp. 183-87), John XXIII set up new norms to govern the activity of the Pontifical Commission for Motion Pictures, Radio, and Television. On March 6, 1959 (AAS, p. 271), the Holy Office prohibited the diffu-sion of all representations and writings which present the devotion to the Divine Mercy according to the forms proposed by Sister Faustina Kowalska; the removal of any such representations which may already be exposed for worship was left to the prudence of the bishops. On April 4, 1959 (AAS, pp. 271-72), the same Holy Office forbade Cathohcs to vote for candidates who are associated with Communists and who favor them in their way of acting. In a special radio message of April 27, 1959 (AAS, pp. 314-16), the Holy Father requested prayers during the month of May for the success of the projected General Council. 299 Views, News, Previews ST. CHARLES of Sezze, one of the two saints whose canonizations are noted in this issue's "Survey of Roman Documents," was born in 1613 in the small town of Sezze, Italy, a few miles to the south of Rome. Born Giancarlo Macchione, he received only a rudi-mentary education which taught him to read and to write; at the age of twenty-two he was received, against the wishes ~of his relatives, into the novitiate of the Roman Franciscan Province and was given the name of Charles. After his profession he was appointed to various houses of his province and was finally stationed in Rome at San Fran-cesco a Ripa where he continued to live until his death. Outwardly he led the humblest kind of life, being employed as gardener, cook, sacristan, and beggar for the community. Inwardly, however, he led a life of sublime mysticism. He was the recipient of many extraordinary mystical graces: visions, transverberations, intuitive knowl.edge of con-sciences. To Alexander VII, Clement IX, Clement X, and Clement XI he predicted their election to the papacy. The trials of his life ~vere comparable to his privileges. He was subject to intense interior desola-tion;" God also allowed him to be tried by vehement passions, especially those of anger and lust; and apparently it was only his practice of severe and continued penance that permitted him to persevere in the path of ~anctity in spite of the temptations to which his passions led. At the order of his superiors he composed in prose and verse a consider-able number of spiritual writings which are characterized by a style as simple as it is profound. A few of these writings have appeared in printing, but the great majority of them remain unpublished. St. Charles died on January 6, 1670; he was beatified two centuries later by Leo XIII; according to the decree of canonization the commemoration of St. Charles is to be made on January 6. St. Juana Joaquina de Vedruna de Mas, the second of the two saints mentioned in this issue's "Survey of Roman Documents," was born at Barcelona, Spain, on April 16, 1783, to a family both pious and well-to-do. Even as a young child she was the recipient of many signal graces, not the least of which was the ability to see God in all the events that happened to her. At an early age, she felt drawn to the religions life and at twelve she expressed a wish to join the Carmelites. Religious life, however, was not yet in God's plans for her; and at the age of six-teen she married a Barcelona lawyer, Theodore de Mas. Nine children were born to the marriage, six of whom later became religions. During her years of marriage, St. Joaquina showed herself a model wife and mother. When Napoleon invaded Spain, Joaquina and her children 300 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS were forced to flee from their home, while Theodore fought with the Spanish troops to repulse the invader. Soon after peace was established, Theodore died, worn out and exhausted by the hardships of the cam-paign against the Napoleonic invasion. Widowed at the age of thirty-three, Joaquina devoted herself to the care of her children. After they were raised and provided for, the desire for religious life reasserted it-self once more; and at the advice of a Capu.chin father she founded a new congregation, the Carmelite sisters of Charity. The purpose of the new institute was to educate the daughters of poor families and to care for the aged. At the time of the foundation of the institute St. Joaquina was forty-three. The rest of her life was largely occupied with the train-ing of her daughters in religion. Courage, humility, work, and joy were the characteristic qualities she wished to see in her religions. Her own spiritual life was characterized by an ardent devotion to the Most Blessed Trinity as well as by the practice of heavy penances. She died in Barcelona on August 28, 1854; at the time of her death her congrega-tion totaled twenty-~ven honses. St. Joaquina's cause was introduced on January 13, 1920, and she was beatified on May 19, 1940. Her feast is to be kept on August 28. The last command of Christ before He ascended into heaven was, according to Mark 16:15, "Go into the whole world, and preach the gospel to every creature." The command thns laid upon the whole Church through the Apostles should have special meaning for religions who have bound themselves to be the perfect followers of Christ. For this reason it is salutary to reflect on how much is still to be done before the gospel is preached to every creature. Of the 2,684,660,000 persons in the world professing a religion, only a little more than 31% are Chris-tians, while not quite 19% are Catholics. Even more sobering is the realization that only 47 % of the world's religions population is mono-theistic, the larger part of the human race being polytheistic, pantheis-tic, or the like. Missionary activity, then, must continue to be one of the primary activities of the Church and it is to be expected that as in the past religions will make that activity one of their chief preoccupa-tions. Inforrnations catholiques internationales for June 1, 1959, contains a valuable, country-by-country survey of vocations to the priesthood in Europe today. According to this survey Spain, which in 1769 pos-sessed 65,823 priests, now has only 23,372. In relation to Spain's total population, there is one priest for every 1,264 inhabitants; in this con-nection, however, it should be remembered that most of Spain's priests are massed in the northern part of the country, the southern part be- 301 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS ing decidedly lacking in priests and vocations. A survey made in Spanish seminaries during the years 1952-1957 showed that 30% abandoned their seminary studies during that time. Of all the European countries Portugal is worse off with regard to priests and vocations, having but one priest for every 1,773 inhabitants. The loss in seminaries in Por-tugal is high; only about 20% of those entering seminaries persevere in their studies and are ordained. Ireland is exceptionally well off, for it has one priest for every 593 inhabitants; it should also be noted that esch year for every Irish priest ordained for work in Ireland itself, another Irish priest is ordained for work in countries other than Ire-land. England with a total of 7,040 priests has one priest for every 1,214 Catholics. A notable characteristic of English vocations is the large number of late vocations. Holland is well off with regard to priests, having one priest for every 480 Catholics; since, however, most of these priests are not engaged in parish work, the actual working ratio is one priest in parish work for every 1,220 Catholics. It should also be noted that Dutch religious priests constitute 13% of the total number of priests in missionary work. Perseverance in seminary studies is a prob-lem in Holland; in 1925, 5~)% of those entering seminaries were ordained; at the present time, however, that percentage is down to.25 %. Belgium has one priest for every 878 inhabitants and has 30 vocations to the priesthood for every .10,000 population. West Germany has but one priest for every 1,568 Catholics; it consequently needs priests badly but an increase in vocations does not seem likely in the near future. Austria too needs priests, having but one priest in ministerial work for every 1,439 Catholics; it has been estimated that the country needs 1,700 more priests to adequately meet its needs. Italy possesses 1 priest for every 1,008 inhabitants, but the priests are badly distributed. North Italy has many priests, while the southern part needs a large increase in them. 70% of those beginning seminary studies drop out of the seminaries before ordination; moreover the age level of Italian priests is high, 55 % Of them being over 50 years of age. 302 uestions nswers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] You have often said that it is the sense of canon law, the mind and will of the Holy See, and the doctrine of authors that a diocesan congregation should become pontifical. I ha~e heard others either refuse to accept or deny this bpinion. In anticipation of this objection, I carefully refrained from stating my own opinion in an article on this matter and explained the question from the opinion of others (R~.vx~.w FOR R~.LIGXOUS, 9 [1950], 63-68). The conclusion of the article is pertinent to the present objection. "The reader is now in a position to give his own answers to the questions of this article. These answers should be based primarily on the mind and will of the Holy See and on the common opinion in the Church. If the will of the Holy See is evident with regard to any action, arguments in favor of or contrary to that action are simply a matter of indifference." This question is outside the field of personal opinion, since the Holy See every five years asks a diocesan congregation in effect: "Have you or do you intend to make a petition for pontifical approval, and if not, why not (Quinquennial Report, n. 4)?" Father Gambari, an official of the Sacred Congregation of Religions, was recently asked the same question and replied: "Yes, indeed, it is the mind of the Holy See that the diocesan communities which have the conditions required become pontifical. Diocesdn character is only a stage of preparation for the pontifical character . The mind of the Church is that diocesan communities become papal, so they must be connected with the Holy See directly rather than to the Holy See through different bishops (1957 Sisters' Institute of Spirituality, 155)." What do we get out of becoming pontifical? This question or objection is now being proposed quite frequently. My conjecture is that the objection has its source in the unwillingness to abandon the false opinion that diocesan status is permanent and definitive, whereas it is only initial,' temporary, and probationary. The objection is founded on the profit motive, which has its legitimate place but not against the expressed will of the Ho!y See. The intrinsic arguments for pontifical approval were also given in the article cited in the preceding question, from which I quote the following: "The intrinsic arguments for seeking papal approval emphasized by the authors cited above are: (1) the government and the constitutions of the institute 303 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious receive a greater authority; (2) the central and internal government becomes stronger; (3) the unity ~f'government, spirit, and ministries of the institute is preserved; (4) the institute is endowed with a greater stability and is thus better able to preserve its original nature and accomplish its original 'purpose; (5) the life and government of the institute become more ,autonomous; (6) the institute has a greater liberty of diffusion and thus of increase. To these can be added: (7) the more autonomous character of the institute naturally begets, a greater internal initiative; (8) the immediate subjection to the Head of all Christendom and the wider diffusion of the institute are more apt to engender the universal viewpoint of the Holy See; (9) the constitutions approved by the Holy See and examined and corrected by specialists will very likely possess a greater excellence and utility." (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 9 {1950], 68) Are more American diocesan congregations becoming pontifical? The answer is slowly and cautiously in the affirmative. As will appear from the figures given below, 1957 was a more optimistic year. These figures are taken from the unofficial publication, L'Attivit~ della Santa Sede. They are evidently incomplete. This publication gives the names of the institutes that were approved. The ages of the twelve American congregations that received their first pontifical approval are very interesting. Their foundation dates, as given in popular manuals, put them in two distinct classes, the very old, and the rest; but not all of the latter are very young (18"33, 1842, 1854, 1858, 1858, 1859, 1859, 1864 and 1902, 1916, 1918, 1929). The average age of the former group is 106 years. We have given the conditions necessary for pontifical approval at least twice in the past and we quote them again. " . . . a diocesan congregation should not delay its petition for pontifical ap-proval until it has the size that admits or demands a division into provinces. Unless special difficulties exist against this petition, and such difficulties must be explained to the Sacred Congregation, the diocesan institute should request papal approbation as soon as the necessary conditions are verified. These are: a) the congregation by a sufficient test of time should have given proof of stability, religious observance, piety, and spiritual profit of its works; b) it is sufficient that the con-gregation number one hundred and fifty members. It is not required that the congregation have houses in more than one diocese." (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 11 [1952], 14; 12 [1953], 253), These conditions demand merely that the diocesan congregation have grown to a vigorous youth. Pontifical approval is not to be requested in the weakness of infancy nor in the uncertainties of childhood, but we are not to conceive pontifical approval as a refuge for the aged nor as a geriatric stimulant. 304 September, 1959 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Decree of Praise Total United States Definitive Approbation Total United States 1943 9 0 -- -- 1948' 5 0 5 0 1950 7 0 14 1 1951 9 2 -- -- 1953 8 1 3 0 1954 3 1 3 1 1955 1 0 2 0 1956 6 2 3 1 1957 24 6 18 2 72 12 48 5 Something strange, at least in my opinion, occurs at times in relation to our local and provincial chapters. A local superior will preside at the election of the delegate and substitutes in his house; and yet, because his term of office has expired, he himself will not be a member of the provincial chapter. The same thing happens to a provincial when his term expires after the provincial but before the general chapter. Am I right in thinking these occurrences strange? If so, how can they be avoided? An ex officio member of a chapter loses his membership if he no longer holds the same position at the beginning of a chapter; for example, a brother provincial who has ceased to. hold that office, even if only after the provincial chapter, is evidently not an ex officio member of the general chapter. The new brother provincial is, since he holds the office to which the ex officio membership is attached. This is also ob-viously true of a local superior when an ex officio membership is attached to this office. It is not contradictory but at least somewhat incongruous that an elected delegate from a house would ente.r a general or provincial chapter as a delegate of a house after he had been transferred from it. The same thing is true of a delegate of a territorial group. It would be almost equally incongruous to transfer religious, from houses or territories of groups after the convocation of a general or provincial chapter and before the completion of the house or group election of delegates. Such transfers would make it more difficult for the religious to know thos,e qualified as delegate~. All transfers of superiors or subjects of this nature could also expose the higher superior to the suspicion of self-interest or intrigue. ~here is no law of the code nor any general practice of the Holy See on this matter. The following minimum legislation would be necessary in the constitutions to avoid the situations described above. (a) From the date of the convocation of the general chapter until its completion, 305 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review [or Religious no provincial may be changed from his cffi~e. If his term expires during this interval, it is extended automatically by the law of the constitutions until after the general chapter. (b) The same law is to be enacted for local superiors when ex officio membership is attached to this office and if there are no provinces; if there are provinces, the law extends only to the completion of the provincial chapter. (c) .Elected delegates and substitutes are not to be transferred after their election from the house or territory of the group. This extends also to a removal of local superiors elected as either delegates or substitutes in other groupings. (d) After the convocation of the general chapter and until the local chapters are completed, religious are not to be transferred, except for an urgent reason, from one house to another or, when territorial groups are in use, from one territory to another. Such legislation is contained in the constitutions of some lay insti-tutes. Usually it goes beyond the minimum norms and forbids the change of any superior or religious from the date of convocation until the close of the general chapter, either absolutely or outside of necessary and urgent cases, for example: "From the date of convocation of the chapter, the transferring of religious or superiors from one house to another is p.ermitted only for grave reasons, approved as such by the general council. The same holds for the deposition of superiors." Such norms may also be contained in the customs; and, if they exist neither in the constitutions nor customs, at least the minimum norms given above should be followed as principles of prudent government. The avoidance of such situations is a sufficient reason for the competent higher superior to prolong the term of a provincial or local superior, since the Holy See itself admits the sufficiency of this reason in approving constitutions. In our pontifical institute of simple vows, all the religious pro-fessed of perpetual vows are members of the general chapter. In the reply to our quinquennial report, the Holy See told us to institute a system of delegates. We do not want delegates; we wish to retain our' vote. What are we to do? There can be no objective obscurity or confusion as to what you are to do when the Holy See has told you what to do~ As stated before in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, there are published corrections of constitutions which show that the Holy See was demanding a system of delegates at least as far back as 1887. The purpose of a system of delegates is to secure competent membership from the entire institute but to confine~ the chapter within a workable and efficient number of members. A system of delegates is also necessary now for the general and regional chapters of nuns. The necessity of delegates was explained and em-phasized in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, 10 (1951), 187-90. 306 September, 1959 QOESTIONS AND ANSWERS Our pontifical congregation is not divided into provinces, but we are considering such h division. How many members would each provinc'e send to the general chapter? If we decide rather to include a division into'regions~ in our constitutions, how many members would each region send to the general chapter? In institutes divided into provinces, the provincial is a member of the general chapter in virtue of his office. This is true also of the superiors of vice-provinces, quasi-provinces, regions, and vicariates. The elected delegates from a province to the general chapter are almost universally two, most rarely three or four; and they are practically always elected in a provincial chapter. The Holy See has approved, even recently, variations of this norm, for example: "one or two delegates according as the province has less or more than a hundred members"; "one delegate for each province but two delegates for any province that exceeds three hundred." The practice on delegates from vice-provinces, quasi-provinces, regions, and vicariates varies. In some constitutions, they are given no delegates; in others all are granted one or two; and in some institutes one or two according to the number of professed religious in the territory, for example, one delegate if there are less than forty religious, two if forty or more. At summer school this year, a religious was complaining of the fact that a very large house sent only the same number of delegates to the general chapter, e.g., a house of twelve would have the same representation as a house of seventy-five. I brought out the fact that, according to our constitutions, a house sends one delegate for every twelve professed members. Why don't all institutes have this fair norm? Both of the institutes in question h

Issue 57.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1998. ; f,or relig i ous C~sfian Heritages and Cont~empora~ Living MAY-JUNE 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 3 Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all wl~o find that the church's rich ¯ heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives. The articles in the journal are meant to be informative, practical, historical, or inspirational, written from a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: FOPPEMA@SLU.EDU Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondeuce with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1998 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming $3 Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough°OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Chr~s6an Heritages and Contemporary L~v~ng MAY-JUNE 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 3 contents 230 247 responding to the spirit Journey Inward, Journey Outward: ATheology of Call Gregory J. Polan OSB brings together personal experience and patterned scriptural examples in discussing the mystery of vocation. An Itinerant Approach to Theological Updating Marie Chiodo DW and Mary Irving SSND set forth a four-stage process used in one province's theological updating. 26O 275 celibacy and sexuality Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life Donald J. Goergen OP considers various aspects of sexuality and celibacy that contribute to a healthily centered religious life. Skills Needed for Celibacy Martin Pable OFMCap focuses on celibacy as a set of behavioral skills by which people can assess their own (and candidates') actual living of the charism. Review for Religious 286 299 finding God The Books That Led Ignatius to God Joseph N. Tylenda SJ presents Ignatius Loyola as an example of spiritual reading bringing about a lifelong conversion. The Desert as Spiritual Landscape Dennis J. Billy CSSR finds in a desert sojourn risk, humbling reality, and whispers of hope. 304 report Women Religious and Sexual Trauma Paul N. Duckro, John T. Chibnall, and M. Ann Wolf present summary data from their extensive survey on this sdrious and sensitive topic and offer some pertinent reflections. departments 228 Prisms 314 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Poverty 320 Book Reviews ~Ylay-June 1998 The Spirit is God's mark of ownership on you. le on a recent visit to South Africa, I noticed how often automobiles have distinguishing num-bers, letters, or symbols painted boldly on their doors and even on their rooftops. I came to realize that these signs are not just expressions of beauty or individuality, but they provide a visible way of claiming ownership and discour-aging carjacking or thievery. St. Paul exhorted the members of his Christian com-munities to rejoice because the Spirit is God's mark of ownership over them. As we celebrate Pentecost in this year dedicated to the Holy Spirit, we may have a certain longing for tongues of fire as a vivid experience of the Spirit's presence and power in our lives. But I wonder whether today we in the Christian community seize the opportunity to welcome the gripping--though common-place-- idea of the Spirit as God's ownership. We own things, but we do not like to think of ourselves as being owned, even by God. We want to think of ourselves as autonomous, free, in charge of our own fate. Sometimes, though, we may admit to ourselves how much we have bought into (or, perhaps more correctly, "been bought by") the values of our culture, the prejudices of our eth-nic groups, and the political assumptions of our times. We are likely owned in many more ways than we care to discover--and we may show it by the way we live! Perhaps, then, we need to work at making our lives belong more visibly to God. Our Pentecost experience may not include rushing wind or fiery tongues, but the presence of the Spirit in our lives is still meant to be--as in Paul's communities-- the mark of God's ownership. Sometimes we too facilely identify the church as a hierarchical church or, more in Review for Religious vogue today, a church of the laity. But the truest reality is that the church is one people assembled, all belonging to the Spirit, marked with God's ownership. Living this reality consciously is part of our personal efforts in preparing for the millennium. Our personal witnessing of this reality is central to our evangelizing efforts, more necessary in the secularizing trends of our times than in Paul's Roman Empire days. What does God's ownership mean for us? God's ownership of us, marked by the presence of the Spirit in our lives, is meant to shine out in our way of acting. The traditional expression is "giving glory to God." Giving glory means that we become trans-parent enough that God and God's life and God's love can shine out through us. For example--to draw from the everyday behav-iors suggested by St. Paul--the way we talk. St. Paul stresses that a person marked by the Spirit speaks only helpful words, words that build up and provide for what is needed. It is how Jesus speaks. What we say should do good for those who hear us. Beyond our words, what can distinguish our dealings with peo-ple- the occasions for God's glory to shine out in us--is our kind-ness and our readiness to forgive. It is how Jesus acted. At a time in our world when massacres of Christians by Christians take place in Rwanda and Burundi, when fellow Christians seek revenge for age-old wrongs in Northern Ireland, when Orthodox, Catholic, and Muslim (all believers in the one God) slaughter one another in ethnic feuds, we can rightly won-der about our welcoming God's Spirit as a mark of God's ownership over us. But let us look into our own mirrors. When everyday human interaction includes ourselves as automobile drivers whose road rage leads us to endanger others, when we "good people" con-tinue to flee from neighborhoods that are in the process of racial integration, when we find ourselves hardened to the reality of abor-tion and assisted suicide, we can question whether we as individu-als and as communities have allowed the Spirit enough welcome to dwell within us, whether God's ownership of us shines out. In an engaging childlike way, St. Paul exhorted the early Christians not to make the Spirit sad. As we celebrate this year specially dedicated to the Spirit, we need to assess whether our Christian living shows forth God's ownership. Or do we make the Spirit sad? David L. Fleming SJ May-June 1998 229 GREGORY J. POLAN Journey Inward, Journey Outward: A Theology of Call 230 As someone who has studied the Scriptures for a number of years, I find reflection on a theology of call particu-larly interesting for several reasons. First, there is much to be said from the perspective of the Scriptures, from Abraham and Moses in the Hebrew Scriptures to Mary and Paul in the Christian Scriptures. Second, as rector of a college seminary for almost a decade, as spiritual direc-tor to both men and women religious over the years, and now as abbot of a Benedictine community, I have been privileged to hear stories of divine in-breaking in the lives of many people--stories as varied as the people who revealed them and as similar as the human nature we all have. The beauty and sacredness of these accounts tell of divine and human communion struggling to express itself in words, yet unable to relate its richness fully. And, third, something within me longs to continue the search for a deeper understanding of my own call and its meaning, past, present, and future. Those who help others discern their call should know well, understand fully, and discover anew the source of their own calling. The vocational story of each person is sacred; it is rich in faith. Our growth in faith should enable Gregory J. Polan OSB, the abbot of Conception Abbey, teaches courses in Scripture at Conception Seminary College and serves on the editorial board of The Bible Today. His mailing address is Conception Abbey; Conception, Missouri 64433. Review for Religious us to see with new eyes what God was choreographing in our first encounters .with the divine. The episodes of divine in-breaking in our own lives should say more to us now than they did thirty, twenty, or ten years ago or maybe just a year ago. The mystery of God's plan in our lives can be a source of strength and hope, of deepened faith and commitment, of renewed zeal and joyful response, of serious reflection and lighthearted humor for us and for others. Thus, the experience of renewing our call can be both a journey inward and a journey outward. I would like to consider some of the major call narratives of the Scriptures from a form-critical perspective, then move to a consideration of their meaning in our own lives by reflecting on their theological significance, and, finally, consider their rele-vance in the lives of candidates who come to us in our roles as vocation directors or directors of formation. Though these remarks are directed primarily to those who help candidates dis-cern a vocation to the ordained ministry or religious life, they may also help all who seek to rediscover the roots of their calling and to discern God's will in their lives. A Form-Critical View of Biblical Call Narratives For at least ten years, biblical scholars have been challeng-ing the practices of the historical-critical method of scriptural exegesis and showing its limitations. Solid scholarship has warned us about paying too much homage to historical criticism. It is not dead; it is just not the god some had made it out to be. Bringing different questions to the text for our topic at hand, I have found form criticism particularly helpful. Form criticism considers the oral transmission of a tradition and attempts to discover the life situation from which it arose. One aspect of form criticism has been neglected: its potential for revealing a theological message in a text. One effort of form crit-ics is to see a common pattern of thought among texts. Such a pattern reveals the manner in which a text unfolds in a topical, nearly thematic, presentation. For example, in laments of the Psalter, the thought pattern is rather consistent: The speaker (1) makes a plea for divine assistance, (2) describes the situation that causes distress and (3) tells God why divine assistance is needed, (4) then expresses a certain trust that God will heed the request, and, finally, (5) makes a promise to God or acknowledges deliv- May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward There are significant repercussions not only for the one being called, but for others as well. erance from other distressing situations. With remarkable con-sistency this pattern runs through the laments of the Psalter. But discovering the pattern is not the place to stop. There is more to be said, particularly on a theological level. What is the theological significance? How is it that our ances-tors in the faith followed such a pattern to express their need for divine assistance? Is there something in the human spirit that rec-ognizes these elements as essential when a person comes before God in a time of need? I suggest that, more than simple ancient conventions, the elements reveal to us something deep in the experience of the human-divine dialogue. The pattern is a perceptive sketch of the mystery of faith found in a particular kind of human expe-rience. "The Form and Significance of the Call Narrad;ces," a 1965 article by Norman Habel of Concordia Seminary in St. Louis, distinguishes a pattern found in several call narratives of the Old Testament: ~ 1. The divine confrontation. God or a divine messenger enters the scene. It is clear that a divine encounter is to take place. 2. The introductory word. A particular preparatory or explana-tory statement sets the scene further. It can be a greeting or a few clarifying words. 3. The commission. Next the person receives a direct command or imperative relating the task that lies ahead. 4. The objection. Invariably, there is a negative. The person shrinks from what seems to be an overwhelming task. 5. The reassurance. God (or the messenger) responds immedi-ately, assuring the person that the task will not have to be accom-plished alone; divine assistance will be on hand. 6. The sign. Though not every call narrative includes a sign, several do. In a sense, the sign continues the assurance of number 5 by guaranteeing that the promise God has made will be carried out. The divine word is faithful. I would like to illustrate the elements of this pattern, first revisiting biblical scenes and then relating them to our own sense of call and our work with candidates for the seminary and religious life.2 Review for Religious The Divine Confrontation (Scene 1) The biblical scene. Key to the significance of the opening scene is that God is breaking into ordinary life in an extraordinary way. The cattle-herder Amos tells of "being snatched away" from car-ing for his herd and being told to "go and prophesy" to neighbors who are at civil war with his own people (Am 7:15). In some mys-terious way the person being called knows that a divine encounter has taken place. The prophet Ezekiel is sitting by the river Chebar in Babylon when he encounters God. He comments, "The hand of the Lord was upon me" (Ezk 1:3). God enters the human scene. A visible manifestation of the divine presence has taken place. Scholars suggest that insistence on direct contact with the divine was seen as necessary for one who stood as mediator between God and other mortal beings) Consistently, the person being called "sees" God or something divine. Isaiah sees "the Lord sit-ting on a throne, high and lofty" (Is 6:1). Jeremiah tells of his experience in "the council of the Lord" (Jr 23:18). When the priests and prophets of the temple say Jeremiah deserves death for his harsh condemnation of the temple, he responds, "The Lord sent me to prophesy against this house and this city all the words you have heard . As for me,here I am in your hands. Do with me as seems good and right to you" (Jr 26:12, 14). The words are not Jeremiah's. He is a mouthpiece for God. What is important for our reflectiofi is that the call scene is of divine origin. And in each case, because God is acting, there are significant repercussions not only for the one being called, but for others as well. The divine confrontation situates an event of great importance for those who hear or read about the one called. Consider the divine confrontation in the call of Mary of Nazareth. At a critical moment in the history of salvation, God enters the scene through an angelic messenger--the divine presence is essen-tial. It signals a turning point, not only for the person receiving the call, but also for others--here, the whole human race. To support the significance of the divine origin and its impact, we need only ask how the Book of Jeremiah ever came to enter the canon of Scriptures. Its message from beginning to end (with rare moments of hope) is gloom and doom, suffering and pain. Why would such a message be reverenced as a measuring rod of the faith of Israel and the church? I suggest it was because of the con-viction that the prophet was visited by God, and the message he Mlay-June 1998 Polan ¯ ~ourney Inward, Journey Outward delivered, harsh and biting as it was, was true. The community of faith deemed it authentic, of divine origin. For the vocation director. Divine intervention is sometimes dif-ficult for us to express in words. Yet it is an important, even essen-tial, experience for each of us to examine. I dare say God is never more clearly God than when we experience divine presence and know we have been called. For Isaiah it was being in the pres-ence of the wholly/Holy Other (Is 6:35). While it need not be a "bolt of lightning," an encounter of "otherness" reveals divine in-breaking. And, if we take the Scriptures as our norm, it is the wholly/Holy Other who has called us. What remains is to dig deep within, to recover the moment or moments, to claim them as sacred, and to struggle to wrap words around what will never be adequately expressed. One of my favorite spiritual writers, Maria Boulding, speaks of divine encounter with eloquence and simplicity: "We live very close to a mysterious presence. God is 'nearer to me than I am to myself,' as St. Augustine put it, but we do not see or understand him. God is utterly mysterious, and strangely gentle. When he makes himself known we are confounded, yet at the heart of our bewilderment there is a sense of recognizing something we have always known. There is nothing else quite like it in our whole experience."4 It has been important for me to return to the moments of my call and see them in their stark simplicity. This return has awak-ened in me both a sense of the seriousness of the divine call in my life and a daily awareness of the divine presence steering me toward fuller, more joyful and faithful responses to everything around me. I have come to see how it was that God called me in my utter weakness, in my fears, in my doubts, in my naivet~, in my immaturity, and even in my sinfulness. God called me beyond those self-absorbing concerns and into new life. And as I con-tinue to return to themoments of God's call, an understanding of the meaning of divine visitation becomes fuller, brighter, and deeper. For the candidate. In A Touch of G~d, Dom Philip Jebb tells a personal story of an experience early in his religious life. It speaks to this point rather well: After a period of almost delirious joy in my praying, I had an experience of annihilation: I felt that I was being sucked into a "black hole." It was a positive experience of noth- Review for Religious ingness. It was the most horrific experience I have ever had: I seemed to be teetering on the edge of becoming nothing. This was not physical, it was not precisely in the mind, it was in the spirit, in the very roots of my being. I went to Dom Leander in a real terror, feeling that at any moment I was going not only out of my mind, but out of existence. And, when I told him of it in words of panic and despera-tion, he replied, "This is marvelous! The best thing that could happen to you; I only wish I were there with you in this." And I said, "If you can say that, then you have no comprehension of what I am talking about." He assured me that he did, and that I was experiencing the infinity and total otherness of God. In prayer we keep making concepts or ideas of God, and then making these into God, but, as we remain faithful to God and God to us, he has to break out of everything that appears to contain him, the bottom has to drop out of the world and the effect appears to be one of annihilation . It was at this time that I wrote a poem which begins, "Wonder is so sudden a gift.''s More than a few times in my experience as spiritual director, as seminary rector, and even now as abbot, someone has come to me in tears with a story similar in its horror but unique in its description. It is important that we be alert to the circuitous and mysterious paths God takes in human experience. Though so often it is God who provides the tender and gentle reminder of divine compassion amidst the assaults on our spirit, here it is the human director who responsively and kindly helps the struggling person understand that encounters with the divine often entail a night like Jacob's--who was afterward renamed Israel (Gn 32:22- 32). But, unless our own experience of the divine is close at hand, we risk missing the signs of a turning point, a moment of grace, a transition, an experience of conversion in the life of the candi-date. The Introductory Word (Scene 2) The biblical scene. The introductory word is important because it establishes a relationship between the human person and God. Here the person's importance before God is made clear. The word to the great unknown prophet of Second Isaiah was a promise of a covenant renewed in comfort and forgiveness (Is 40:1-3). For Mary of Nazareth, God's own delight in her is expressed: you are the "favored one; the Lord is with you" (Lk 1:28). Mary is indeed May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward special among God's people. Jeremiah is told that, before he was formed in his mother's womb, he was set apart to share in a divine mission (Jr 1:5). The introductory word makes the person receptive to the divine word that will come. It says that the divine choice is pre-ceded by divine love.6 The election to a special vocation comes, not because of talent or giftedness first, but out of divine love. Divine delight impels God to call the person to share in the salvific and redemptive plan. Here the word of God informs the person that he or she has a relationship with God that has been and is touched by blessing. Like God's constant and watchful love for Israel through desert wanderings and times of infidelity is the same divine love ever accompanying the recipient of God's call. The divine word is present in fidelity, in the assurance that God's justice--that is, right relationship--has inaugurated communion even before the commission is announced. For the vocation director. Whatever we hear in the Scriptures, even in the most obscure passages, tells us "who we are in rela-tionship to God." As with the introductory word of our call-nar-rative pattern, so the Scriptures constantly tell how God chooses to become one with us in all ages and times. Even in the harsh judgments given to Jeremiah to proclaim, we are reminded that God knows Israel's destruction is a prelude to its being rebuilt and renewed (Jr 1:10). In Hosea's suffering with his unfaithful wife, we are reminded not so much of human infidelity as of God's desire for healing and the restoration of a relationship of mutual intimacy and communion (Ho 2:21-2 3; NRSV). The introductory word or the call narrative is a sacrament of the divine word, the whole of Scripture. It is the font of truth and wisdom that reveals our truest identity. For those of us who are involved in the work of formation and discernment, God's word carl be the surest source of daily nourishment, satisfying and building up an inner vitality. For us who have experienced a call and responded to it, the divine word unfolds an ever deepening realization of "who we are" and "what we are to become" before God. By our attentive listening to the word of God, our awareness of God's voice in our daily lives is heightened and sensitized. A favorite passage of mine which strongly witnesses to such attentive listening comes at the end of the Book of Deuteronomy. As the people stand ready to cross over the .Jordan, their leader Moses says, as part of his final words to them: "This commandment that I enjoin on you today is not too Review for Religious hard for you, nor is it too far away. It is not in heaven, that you should say, 'Who will go up to heaven for us and get it for us that we may hear it and observe it?' Neither is it beyond the sea, that you should say, 'Who will cross to the other side of the sea for us and get it for us, so that we may hear it and observe it?' No, the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart; you have only to carry it out" (Dt 30:11-14). If we choose to be a people of the word, the word will trans-form us by its inherent power. In that power we will come to the deepest sense of our own identity and, importantly, the rich identity of every per-son created by God. For the candidate. In recent years I have been struck by the pastoral sensitivity of one of the members of the hierarchy, Cardinal Carlo Maria Martini sJ. In 1979 he was appointed archbishop of Milan. Before that, he had been rector of the Pontifical Biblical Institute (1969-1978) and of the Gregorian University (1978- 1979) in Rome. He is a man of interna-tional reputation as a biblical scholar, a text critic to be exact. He was a member of a team of five text critics (and the only Catholic) that prepared the most up-to-date critical edition of the Greek New Testament, In Milan he inaugurated a program of spiritual renewal for the young adults of the city. He met with them weekly to read and discuss the Scriptures, dealing with a particular book of the Bible or a biblical theme.7 Martini always began with a brief explanation of the texts under consideration; but after this presentation it was time for the young adults to talk, to ask ques-tions, and to pray from the Scriptures--to be formed according to the word of God. I would like to suggest that, in this era after the Second Vatican Council, we use the Scriptures with ever greater convic-tion as our document of faith in the work of formation. From cover to cover the Bible tells us time and time again what I con-sider essential for the experience of formation: (1) our identity in relationship to God, the divine-human relationship moving toward communion; (2) the continuous call to conversion, the need for the sinner to return to God; and (3) the meaning of the paschal mystery, our union with Christ in the experience of suf- The introductory word or the call narrative is a sacrament of the whole of Scripture. 2Vlay-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward fering, dying, and rising to new life. In a time when our candidates suffer deprivation of Catholic culture, we can use the divine word to get them rooted in the reality of God's steadfast love for them and aware of the offer of redemption which is theirs and ours each day. The Commission and the Objection (Scenes 3 and 4) The biblical scene. At the moment when God gives the imper-ative, there is a sharp demarcation between the past and future of the one being called. A new course is being charted. The com-mission from God encapsulates the task that lies ahead. There is a clear sense that the one being commissioned goes in the name of God, as a kind of ambassador--not to give his or her own word, his or her own decision, but God's. The mission is a divine one; and, fittingly, it is the challenge of a lifetime. For Moses, slow of speech, it was to deliver God's command to release the Hebrew slaves. For Amos it was to enter the territory of his enemies and there deliver a condemnatory message. For Isaiah it was to con-tinue speaking God's word, to make the hearts of the people even more sluggish than they were. Mary, the fianc6e of Joseph, was told that she would bear a son who would assume the Davidic throne; she was to be the mother of the Messiah. At this point the narrative moves into a moment of tension. Clearly, the task is beyond the person's immediate or native capa-bilities. The task is so different that the commission becomes life-altering. The cattle-herder Amos will become an orator. The tender of flocks, Moses, is to be a political mediator. The priest Ezekiel will assume the role of a prophet. Because of this mis-sion, life will no longer be as it was. By their words and their lives, those being commissioned will witness to God's inteiwention in the history of their people. It is no exaggeration to say that the commission informs the persons that the call has an impact beyond their own life and will touch the lives of the people to whom they belong. It has an impact on the history of God's peo-ple. These people will be living reminders of what God is doing at what appears to be "the turn of the ages." Two scenes that tell of the impact of the commission on the lives of the prophets stand out in my mind. Isaiah had two sons. Each was given a symbolic name to tell the people what God intended to do. One son was called Shear-yashub (Is 7:3), which Review for Religious means "a remnant shall remain." The other son was called Maher-shalal- hash-baz (Is 8:1), which means "quick the spoil, speedy the plunder." Both names tell of an impending doom. In the Scriptures, names are linked to people's identity and mission. The sons of Isaiah reminded him that he was to tell the nation of Judah, "You are damned"--so life-altering was the call to Isaiah! A second scene comes from the confessions of the prophet Jeremiah. In the prophetic literature we rarely glimpse the prophetic experience; what we are given is the words, the utter-ances of the prophets, In the confessions of Jeremiah, however, we have a rare insight into the challenge this prophet faced. Consider this passage: "O Lord, you have enticed me, and I was enticed; you have overpowered me, and you have prevailed. I have become a laughingstock all day long; everyone mocks me. For whenever I speak I must cry out, I must shout, 'Violence and destruction!' For the word of the Lord has become for me a reproach and deri-sion all day long. If I say, 'I will not mention him, or speak any more in his name,' Then within me there is something like a burning fire shut up within my bones; I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot" (Jr 20:7-9). Jeremiah says that the mission entrusted to him has brought him nothing but rejection, hatred, and mockery. So he resolves not to speak the words God gives him. But then that very word becomes a raging fire within him; he cannot but utter the message God has given him. He is impelled and driven to accomplish the mission given to him. Both of these passages supplement the com-mission given to the prophet in the call narrative and help us bet-ter appreciate the demands of God's task. Not surprisingly, the person receiving the commission always shrinks from so enormous a challenge. It is difficult to say with certainty where the objection stems from. Some suggest that humility or a sense of inadequacy is the reason: Who would not shrink from the duty of being God's agent?8 The examples drawn from Isaiah and Jeremiah are, in psychological terms, occasions when a person submerges his or her own ego in order to repre-sent or live for another. We may classify such behavior as some-thing unhealthy and odious, but it nevertheless emerges from the biblical text as an example of the personal dynamics involved in the commission and the subsequent objection. Furthermore, it tells us something of what our ancestors in the faith realized when God made total claim upon their lives. May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward For the vocation director. Most of us could tell a compelling story of how the experience of call or the living-out of that call yanked us from something comfortable into something challeng-ing and new. And yet such life-seasoning in the priesthood or religious life has probably brought us considerable blessing to balance the challenge. But there is another aspect of the commis-sion- objection experience we sometimes take for granted: how the response of one has an impact on the destiny of many. We can, at times, become so caught up in what we are doing or how we are responding that we fail to realize that God is in the midst of our activity and that our work for the gospel is having an effect far more sweeping than we can see or realize. We call this phe-nomenon corporate personality from the perspective of the Hebrew Scriptures, and Body of Christ in the Christian Scriptures. We are more intimately bound to one another than we can com-prehend. As the sin of one affects others, so also does the good-ness of one have a ripple effect. And the Scriptures tell us powerfully how the destinies of many are affected by the response in obedience to God's invitation. In Genesis 12:1 God calls Abram to go from his country, his relatives, and his immediate family to a land that will be pointed out to him. Then in Genesis 12:4 the terse description of his response is potent: "So Abram went as the Lord had told him." The text is concise, not because there was nothing to say about the experience, but because the obedi-ence of one with an unknown future was to be the very founda-tion of a people yet to be created--but it started here. The fiat of Mary is another powerful example: theyes of an unassuming young woman set in motion the final eschatological age, the inaugura-tion of the end times. Reflection on such experience in our own lives reveals how our "journey inward" w!ll direct our "journey outward." Consistently in the Scriptures we see how a call by God sends a person on that inward search to respond, to assess the situation, to weigh the daunting challenge. An affirmative response then sets off another dynamic movement. The inward journey then--by divine design, I believe--attaches a person ever more closely to the human fam-ily, to the faith community, to yet unknown persons who will be touched by a faith-filled fiat. In ways mysterious, we become agents of the divine, touching the lives of others by following the call we have received. For the candidate. Some time ago I was struck by the promo- Review for Religious tion materials of a college seminary which promised its students all kinds of benefits: numerous majors from which to choose, big-city life with its hustle and bustle, and high-tech opportunities. Is this what should attract a candidate to the seminary or a religious community? What occurs to me is that, if we are assisting adult men and women in their discernment of God's call, our biblical tradition tells us that we had better be honest in telling them what the divine in-breaking in their lives will bring. Certainly there are rich benefits in responding to the call. There are joys in God's service that cannot be purchased--they are of divine giving. But real challenges lie ahead demanding personal sacrifice of con-siderable magnitude. Further, there are the "nuts and bolts" of what we mean by vocation, by being called. I have to distinguish between my vocation and my career. In essence, as a Benedictine monk I am called to live under a Rule and an abbot, to live in community and where I witness to the meaning of the paschal mystery. This is my vocation. My pre-vious work as rector of a seminary, as teacher, and other things I do are secondary; they are, for want of a better word, my career. And the works of my community are secondary to the essence of our life together. For those who belong to religious communi-ties, getting back to our roots, understanding our charisms, and witnessing to the reasons why we followed the call of God are essential. Those who come to stay with us as they discern God's call will see who we are from only one perspective, from a limited view. They need to receive honest answers to their questions about religious life. We must not promise them anything other than what the gospel promises. Are they in love with the Word they are called to preach and teach and live? Can they happily encourage all to realize their potential in the community of faith, and so assist in building a church of living stones? Every Christian is called into the paschal mystery. But the call to priesthood or religious life is a unique entry into that mys-tery- not better, but special because of its demands. As a novice, I remember, I had a certain fascination with the person of Dietrich Bonhoeffer and an appreciation for his writings, especially those from the time of his imprisonment and his personal struggle to return to his native land. In Life Together Bonhoeffer writes of the call each baptized Christian receives: "When Christ calls a person, he bids that individual, 'Come and die.'''9 Those three words, "Come and die," are a mighty challenge. In my experi- May-June 1998 Polan ¯ Journey Inward, Journey Outward ence of working with college-age candidates for the priesthood and monastic life, I see within them the desire to be challenged to live life more generously, more radically, and more distinctively. VChat we have to do is capture their zeal, help them direct it in a positive and healthy way, and challenge them to selfless service. The Reassurance and the Sign (Scenes 5 and 6) The biblical scene. The reassurance is integral to the develop-ment of the pattern in the call narratives, and important as a response to the objection which has been given. Notice that the divine response is particular to the protest, emphasizing that God will be dynamically present in the situation and intimately involved in the endeavor. There is something distinctly symbolic in the way objections are answered in God's call to Gideon, Moses, and Jeremiah. When the negative reaction comes with an excuse explaining why they cannot respond affirmatively, God simply says, "I am indeed with you." In this response we see a hint of the divine name YHWH, "I am," that is to say, "I stake my name on it." In the biblica'l tradition, personal names are intimately tied up with identity and mission. A person receives a new name, and with that change comes a shift in both identity and mission. For example, the name Abram means "exalted father"; the name Abraham means "father of a host of nations." The word of reas-surance from God links the divine identity with the human mis-sion, forging a bond of divine commitment to this human person and the task at hand. Of further importance here is the under-standing that, in the divine reassurance, the person who has received God's call is now impelled, not by feeling, not by self-direction, but by the power of the divine word. God has given to the one who has been called not only a word to establish rela-tionship, not only a commission, but also a word of reassurance. On equal footing with the word of commission is the word of reassurance. Sometimes there is a further elaboration to heighten the prominence of the reassurance, namely, a sign. Sometimes a sign is asked for, as in the case of Gideon. At other times, God gives a sign--to Moses, for example, in the form of wonders he per-forms before Pharaoh, Mary was told that her kinswoman Elizabeth, even in her old age, had conceived a son; the one thought to be barren was now in her sixth month. The sign is a Review for Religious complement to the divine word and brings to light the full assur-ance that God will be true to the promise already given. For the vocation director. One of the things which the call nar-ratives do not tell us is how it all worked out in the end. We know nothing of the final days of some who received calls, like Amos and Ezekiel. However, there are a few glimpses of successes and failures in prophetic voca-tions. Isaiah's word of advice to Hezekiah saved the people when the threat of Assyria's armies foretold ultimate doom (Is 36-39). The wrenching vocation of Hosea found confirmation in the healing of a bro-ken marriage bond. But the vocation of Jeremiah brought him to gaze on the ruin of Jerusalem as he was carried off against his will to Egypt (Jr 40:13-43:7); where Israel had been a slave, Jeremiah was now a captive. The life of Jeremiah came to symbolize the broken and fragmented experience of Israel's history. Somehow, in the mystery of both successes and failures, there is the belief that God's mission is being accomplished and the call was authentic. Our work in vocation ministry embraces the joys of seeing candidates move into community life or become productive ordained ministers, the sorrows of seeing a call declined, and the anxieties about individuals' uncertain futures whether in respond-ing to God's calls or in rejecting them. How important it is for us to realize that our work as vocation directors is part of a larger vocation, a broader calling that is still unfolding. I am reminded of another autobiographical sketch from A Touch of God that speaks to the mystery of vocation. Maria Boulding recalls her appoint-ment to work in formation: At about the time the Second Vatican Council ended, I was appointed novice mistress and held the job for nine years. It was a complex experience. In some ways it was joy: there was all the dynamism of the council; I had a feeling of being fully used, of being in a job where I could give all I had to give; there was the work with people, and some lasting friendships were established. But there was also, especially in the later years, a sharp sense of personal inadequacy for the work. I helped a few people, but others not at all, and I ended up with a general sense of failure. I am heartily Somehow, in the mystery of both successes and failures, there is the belief that God's mission is being accomplished. 2Ylay-~ne 1998 glad that I was taken off the job, although at the time it was wrench, a little death . At the same time I had another experience of great significance. This was the work of the English Benedictine Congregation's theological com-mission, on which I served for years in the production of Consider Your Call and in other enterprises which grew from that. This whole experience has been one of the most enriching of my entire monastic life . The result of all this experience has been that in those years and subsequently the greatest friendships of my life have flowered. I have found a capacity for friendship with many people both inside and outside my own community, gained confidence in my ability to love and to dare a little more to let myself be loved and known. Even when everything seems primed for a perfect way of living out one's call, the blessing we experience is often not the one we anticipated. And when one door seems to close in our face with a shocking slam, another opens on untold blessings, if we will enter it. In our own calling we are invited to live in the faith of the assurance that was once given to us. What lies at the core of that promise is my willingness to live fully, not in my career, but in my vocation, in my calling. This is not to say that the two are not intimately connected; they are, but they are also separate. In our assignments we live part of our "journey outward" by being of service to others. As vocation directors we give of ourselves by offering our wisdom, by letting our story be known, and by direct-ing others as best we can. In whatever we do, when we live out of our calling, our vocation, we give witness to the ground of our committed life. And there we can enrich the lives of others in ways we do not know, for by living in the power of God's word to us we are able to accomplish much. For ibe. candidate. One great challenge in working with voca-tion prospects is the difficulty they have making a commitment. At times I have asked myself: Do I know more students who have committed themselves to trying the seminary, or do I know more who are "sitting, on the fence"? It is a phenomenon of our society and our age that young adults are making commitments later in life. Our own seminarians gasp when I tell them that I entered the novitiate at age twenty. And yet psychologists tell us that our twenties are the years most formative of the pattern of life we live as adults. What can we do? What should we do? To share with our candidates the reassurances and signs of God in our own experiences could be one of the greatest gifts we Review for Religious offer them. Here we speak from a faith that has been tested and proven to be one of our greatest treasures. If we can help our candidates to view life through the lens of faith, they will see an essential ingredient in living their religious or ordained life. Especially in their youth we need to capitalize on their zeal and enthusiasm for trying new ways and seeing from new perspec-tives. I have been pleasantly surprised to discover only later that the times I have challenged seminarians and spiritual advisees to a deeper faith have been the moments that have stuck with them, even haunted them. Our candidates need the experiences we share with them. Allowing others to hear of our circuitous journeys inward and our journey~ outward may be more formative for our candidates than we realize. What the Scriptures tell us of a theology of vocation has roots in personal experiences of God, experiences that are life-altering. Many of us grew up in a time when priests and religious did not talk much about their experience of call. But, when they did, even the slightest glimpse of their response to God's call set us on fire with zeal, enthusiasm, and the desire to follow their example. That the Scriptures reveal the call narratives in a recognizable literary form tells us that our ancestors in the faith saw such stories as deeply formative, not only for the persons called, but for the whole community of faith. They remind us how sacred our own jour-neys of faith are, not only for ourselves, but for others as well. Reflecting on "call" stories continues our own formation and our development of a theology of vocation. When we discover even mere bits of our own story in the pages of the Bible, we give to others a living theology of vocation. And, when we see our lives reflected on the pages of Scripture, we are strengthened to bring that written word to bear on our own lives. What we have come to consider, then,-is that a theology of vocation unites the journey inward, where we discbver the divine resources given us, and the journey outward, where we live selflessly in accord with the divine word that summoned us. Notes l N. Habel, "The Form and Significance of the Call Narratives," ZAW 77 (1965): 297-323. z The following are the classical call narratives in the Scriptures: Moses (Ex 3:1 - 12); Gideon (Jg 6:1-40); Isaiah (Is 6:1-13); Deutero-Isaiah (Is 40:3-8); Jeremiah (Jr 1:4-10); Ezekiel (Ezk 1 : 1-3:11); Hosea (Ho 1-3); Amos (Am 7:10-17); Mary (Lk 1:26-37). Others that can be considered call May-J~ote 1998 scenes but do not follow the usual pattern include: Abraham (Gn 12:1-4); Samuel (1 S 3:1-4:1); Elisha (1 K 19:19-21); Paul (Ga 1:11-24; Acts 9:1- 19; 22:3-16; 26:2-18); Peter (Mt 4:18-22; Mk 1:16-22; Lk 5:1-11); Matthew (Mt 9:9-13). 3 Habel, "The Form," p. 317. 4 Maria Boulding, The Coming of God (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1982), p. 125. s Philip Jebb, "Wonder Is So Sudden a Gift," in A Touch of God: Eight Monastic Journeys, ed. Maria Boulding (London: SPCK, 1982), p. 7. 6 Gerard Meagher, "The Prophetic Call Narrative," Irish Theological Quarterly 39, no, 2 (1972): 17. 7 A number of these conferences given by Carlo Martini to the young adults of Milan have been translated and published in several volumes; see Carlo Maria Martini, The Joy of the Gospel, trans. James McGrath (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1994). s Habel, "The Form," p. 319. 9 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1954), p. 8. ,0 Maria Boulding, "A Tapestry, from the Wrong Side," in A Touch of God, pp. 33-35. Antiphon in the Style of Hildegard 0 You who made the sharp shinned hawk with red eyes rend the singing sparrows with the silent slice of death, who fill the sunset sky with roses and crows, who paint the breast of the warbler with flashes of your Spirit and crown the finger small kinglet with your blood, bless me with wonder at the paradox of your plans. Like birds, may my heart's croaks and arias praise You. Anne Higgins DC Review for Religious MARIE CHIODO AND MARY IRVING An Itinerant Approach to Theological Updating As an introduction to their book Toward a Human Worm Order, Gerald and Pat Mische recount a parable, "The Coat That Got Too Small." An outsider had met on a strange planet about a hundred fifty gasping and groaning people with contorted faces. Their coats "were much too small. Buttons and zippers were being strained to the limit and seams threatened to tear at the sides. Their bodies bulged against the overstretched fabric as if the contents had been stuffed in with tremendous effort." In talking with one of the women in the group, the out-sider pointed out: "It's your coat . It's too tight . Maybe you should get a new one that fits you better. It looks like this one has served you in the past, but now it is more like a straitjacket than a coat.". After considerable time., she started, between gasps, to tell me their story. They had had these coats since they were young, she said. It seemed to be the fashion. No one ever questioned it before. Marie Chiodo DW, a member of the provincial board of the United States province of the Daughters of Wisdom and an organizational con-sultant, does facilitation and process and program design with religious congregations and other nonprofit groups. Her address is 416 Branch Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20901. E-mail: mchiodo53@aol.com Mary Irving SSND, DMin, served as the itinerant theologian for the Daughters of Wisdom theological renewal process. A consultant in spir-ituality for religious communities, she also teaches and offers retreats and spiritual direction. Her address is 2202 Westview Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910. E-mail: mirvingssnd@juno.com . May-finite 1998 Cbiodo and Irving * Theological Updating "But surely you have grown very much since then," I said incredulously, trying to constrain myself. "But what else is there?" She strained, but went on whenever she could get enough breath to say that she liked this coat. It had, after all, been hers for a very long time. 'Tm used to it now. It makes me feel . " She searched for a long time, looking for breath and for the right word. "Secure," she puffed out at last.I The coats help us picture an individual's or a community's unnecessarily limited theological understanding of self and oth-ers, the world, and God. Christian tradition is passed on through time with the in~ent of bringing Jesus Christ's transforming action to each generation of believers. Yet each era brings new cultural and historical settings. The new experiences and new questions about God and the self, others, and the world that arise in these new settings must be brought into a dialogue with the ancient traditions of the faith. From the 15th century to the 19th, new questions about evan-gelization and the education of the poor were raised by many European Christians, including women who were concerned about the care of the sick poor and the education of poor girls. The result was the establishment of numerous "apostolic" religious congregations, a category unknown till then. Vatican Council II's Gaudium et spes, the Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World, explicitly addressed the new questions and atti-tudes with which the church needed to engage that world, which had been viewed more as an opponent than a friend. If the Christian tradition and contemporary experience do not regu-larly engage in such dialogue, an individual's or a community's "coat" becomes strained and stretched. This article reviews the efforts of women religious to be free of unnecessarily constrictive theological coats, tells of one province's theological updating, and then offers reflections on these matters. An Historical Perspective on Theological Updating The impetus toward theological updating for United States women religious in the late 1990s is the most recent manifestation of a recurring pattern of the past fifty years. Three major moments will illustrate the pattern. The first moment was the expansion of the Catholic school system in the United States. The need for sisters to teach in the Review for Religious many schools often meant that young women religious were sent out to teach with little if any academic preparation. The 1941 doctoral research of Sister Bertrande Myers DC revealed grave inadequacies in the academic and theological preparation of many United States sisters in the first four decades of the 20th cen-tury. A 1949 presentation to the National Catholic Educational Association on the education of young religious sisters by Sister Madeleva Wolff CSC brought this problem to a wider audience. By 1953 the Sister Formation Conference, led by Sister Mary Emil Penet IHM, had been established to initiate a major project: seeing that new members received college degrees before entering the classroom. This effort was fash-ioned from the beginning with an integrated vision: theological, spiritual, and profes-sional elements were to be present simu.lta-neously in the curriculum. The sisters who were sent for master's and doctoral degrees and the young sisters who benefited from their teaching were the first recipients of updated thinking in both theology and pro-fessional fields,z As this integrated profes-sional, theological, and spiritual formation became standard at the undergraduate level, many sisters went on for degrees in higher education in their fields, but their contin-uing theological and spiritual updating was often overlooked. The second historical moment was brought about by the teachings of the Vatican Council in the 1960s. The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church (Lumen gentium) brought long-for-gotten biblical and sacramental images of the church into focus. The juridical emphasis of the past four hundred years was expanded and deepened by the new prominence given to the bib-lical image of the people of God; the baptismal holiness of the laity was proclaimed once again. The Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the Modern World transformed centuries of dichotomy between the church and the world into reverent and realistic openness. These and many other documents--for exam-ple, those on liturgy, religious freedom, and revelation--demon-strated the universal church's own desire to let out theological coats, some of which had remained unchanged for centuries. A pervasive if nebulous spiritual hunger discloses itself in the United States culture generally and in the members of many faith traditions. Cbiodo and Irving ¯ Theological Updating Countless short- and longer-term initiatives surfaced in a variety of, congregational, parish, and educational settings, providing necessary biblical and theological.updating for many sisters. Now, thirty years .after the council, a third moment has arrived. The imminence of the millennium heightens in many congregations an awareness of the need for new theological and spiritual coats for these times. Theology expands and deepens in every area. The modern era in culture has yielded to a postmod-ern one. Scientific discoveries at the micro, macro, planetary, and cosmic levels challenge both theology and spirituality. Societies worldwide move increasingly into an awareness of their inter-connectedness and interdependence. A pervasive if nebulous spir-itual hunger discloses itself in the United States culture generally and in the members of many faith traditions. Women religious, too, find theological and spiritual challenges in this new world as well as in the diminishment of their numbers. Many apostolic congregations of women intuit with faith and hope the need for renewal that will enable them to minister better to today's church and society. Some have already initiated such a process. Looking at this spirit-hungry world, other congregations, chapters, and assemblies are recognizing the need for both theological and spir-itual updating for their members. For many, apostolic work of a theological kind provides the initial impetus. But with this moti-vation comes the realization that a sister's own integrity requires that she look to her own theological and spiritual updating if she is to be credible to others. One Province's Story The United States province of the international congrega-tion of the Daughters of Wisdom responded to the mandate of their general and provincial chapters "to deepen the spirituality of the congregation, in order to allow ourselves to be transformed by Wisdom, so as to live according to Her ways and to reveal Her." Responsibility for the implementation that would lead to theo-logical updating about Wisdom was shared by the leadership team and the membership. Leadership saw its role as, first, to initiate the conversations that would identify and articulate the theolog-ical needs among the sisters and then to put in place the structures to respond to those needs. Together sisters, associates, and lay collaborators would take a good look at their theological coats. Review for Reli~ous They would do so in the light of their personal spiritual experi-ence of the charism, contemporary writers and theologians, and the shared wisdom of the community. The leadership team fash-ioned a process that would engage a planning committee, cluster conveners in several geographic areas, and sisters and laypersons in the search for Wisdom. The province numbers approximately a hundred fifty sisters, mostly on the East Coast. Their diverse ministries include edu-cation, healthcare, religious education, retreat work, and social services. For four years the sisters had participated in faith-shar-ing groups called wisdom circles where they had pursued Wisdom spirituality with associates and other laypersons through books, articles, and prayer together. Threads for refashioning theologi-cal coats were already being spun. Yet the sisters wanted more. Though all of them sought Wisdom, there were conflicting views that involved cherished convictions about God and prayer, Christology, the emerging Sophia/Wisdom spirituality, and fem-inist theologizing. A Theological Education Process A four-stage theological education process was developed that would involve sisters, associates, and ministry colleagues in study, reflection, and dialogue on contemporary theology, church tra-dition, and present world realities. The four stages werd: (1) a think tank, (2) an itinerant theologian, (3) a province gathering, and (4) a year of itinerancy. The Think Tank. Twelve sisters with widely differing approaches to God, prayer, and spirituality were invited to be part of a think tank. Their role was twofold: to find out what the operative theologies were among the sisters and to engage in a weekend of discernment focused on the Wisdom charism. The twelve who agreed to participate in the think tank were given several articles for their study and were asked to interview five randomly chosen sisters in the province about their rela-tionship with God. Interview questions were devised for each to use. In the interviews, conducted by phone or face-to-face, the think-tank participants explored who God has been to the sister, how her ideas of God had or had not changed,.and what she still yearned for in her relationship with God. The interviewers took notes from these interactions and formulated their response to May-June 1998 Cbiodo and Irving ¯ Theological Updating this question: From your interviews, what did you learn about the transformation by Wisdom in the life of our sisters? The twelve expressed awe at what took place during these interviews. Sisters spoke candidly and with deep wisdom about their life journeys. One recurring comment was, "No one has ever asked me these questions in the community." Excitement was generated in the province, such that the discernment week-end was not just for an elite twelve. It would now bear the imprint of the spiritual search of all the sisters. The responses collated from the interviews formed the start-ing point of the work on the weekend. In the course of the two days, the twelve sisters and the leadership team prayed and dia-logued as they struggled with the differing and often conflicting theological understandings among themselves. But most notable was the effort to hear and have a reverence for what others cher-ished in the tradition. The vision statement that emerged from the weekend articulated both our commonly held understanding of Wisdom and the theological diversity regarding Wisdom as Sophia/Wisdom and as the Christ: We are united in our desire for the fullness of God's trans-forming love. Consistent with our Congregational tradi-tion, we see ourselves as seekers of God as Wisdom. We acknowledge and accept that we hold diverse understandings of Wisdom: for example, Eternal and Incarnate Wisdom, Jesus, Christ/Sophia, Sophia. As we seek Wisdom, we remain mutually receptive. It is through dialogue and faith sharing that we claim our own individual experience, cherish the experience of others, and in that engagement enrich each other. In so doing, we com-mit ourselves to the process of transformation by Wisdom. This transformation by Wisdom impels us to active involve-ment in our fractured world. Equally important was the emergence of identifiable theo-logical areas that the community needed to explore together in more depth: Christology, feminist spirituality, Wisdom/Sophia. Finding an Itinerant Theologian. The planning included having one theologian walk with the province for an extended period of time. This would provide consistency in content and process. The term itinerant theologian was thus coined. The theological task was clear: to provide exposure to both traditional and contem-porary theology around the areas identified by the think tank. It was also clear that this was to occur in a climate of reverence for Review for Religious diverse theological positions and of openness to understand posi-tions different from one's own. The leadership team proceeded to identify what it sought in a theologian who would walk with the province over the next eighteen months. Criteria indicated some-one who would engage the province in theological reflection on their experience of God/Wisdom; on someone with breadth of knowledge and vision in regard to traditional and contemporary Christology and Wisdom theology; on someone who would respect the differing positions while inviting all to grow in new understandings of Wisdom; on someone who could integrate theology with spirituality. A tall order indeed! But a necessary one if the province was to continue together the retailoring of its theo-logical coats. The leadership team found a person with the theological education and experience in spiritu-ality. What is more, they found a person who knew how to place the contemporary in the heart of the tradition of the church. The retailoring would involve weaving new threads into appropriate ample fabrics, The province--sisters, associates, and other laypersons--would weave various strands together at the province gathering. The Province Gathering. The theme ~elected was "Touching the Textures of Wisdom." A planning .committee was put in place to work with the results of the think-tank weekend and with the itinerant theologian. They developed a design for the four days of the gathering, with particular attention given to content, process, and ritual around the three themes of Christology, Wisdom, and Women. In the months before the gathering, sisters received the results of the think tank and articles in each of these areas for their study and reflection. The gathering itself provided time for reflection on one's own experience, time for input and ritualizing, time to process its meaning, and time to dialogue with one another and with the itinerant theologian about emerging understandings. The atmo-sphere was conducive to forming new insights about God and Wisdom in such a way that sisters did not feel coerced to change We acknowledge and accept that we hold diverse understandings of Wisdom: for example, Eternal and Incarnate Wisdom, Jesus, Christ/Sophia, Sophia. 253 . iYlay-June 1998 Cbiodo and Irving ¯ Theological U.p~,__tin~ the way they approached God. Yet many said they saw both God and Wisdom with new eyes. The consistency, between traditional and contemporary insights regarding Wisdom wove new theo-logical fabrics for many. These fabrics had patterns of theologi-cal themes which the sisters wanted to examine more closely in the itinerant year. The themes were: ¯ Wisdom Christology in the New Testament ¯ Wisdom and Contemplation of God's Creation ¯ Lady Wisdom in the Old Testament ¯ Sophia Theology ¯ Feminist Theology ¯Julian of Norwich ¯ Liberation Theology. This large group of themes needed to be reduced to a man-ageable number. In the end there were three. "Wisdom in the New Testament" was a top choice of four of the six groups. "Sophia Theology" would involve looking at the emerging under-standing of the Trinity from feminist perspectives on Wisdom. "Creation, Women, and God" was to explore theologies of cre-ation emerging from feminist and ecological perspectives. The six cluster groups were scheduled for the fall of 1996 and the spring of 1997. The year began in St. Agatha, Maine, traveled to Islip, New York, Litchfield, Connecticut, and Portsmouth, Virginia, and concluded in Islip. The Year of Itinerancy. The cluster weekends were open to sisters and to invited lay people. Sisters indicated their first and second choices of topics, and attempts were made to honor choices. Sisters in each geographic area were invited to be cluster conveners. This involved their being in contact with the itinerant theologian, seeing to preparation of prayer and ritual, and basically organizing travel and hospitality for sisters and lay people. Several months before their cluster weekend, sisters received articles and materials for their study and reflection. The itinerant theologian traveled to the various sites to conduct the weekend in much the manner of her work at the province gathering: reflection on experience, theolog-ical input, and time for reflection, interaction, and ritual. The Itinerant Theologian's Reflection on the Year The interrelated themes of charism and community serve as pivotal points around which to structure these reflections. Review for Religious Charism. The charism of seeking after Wisdom, of hunger-ing and thirsting for her, is vibrant in the Daughters of Wisdom. For three hundred years the members have been nourished by St. Louis Marie de Montfort's profound biblical and theological book titled The Love of Eternal Wisdom. The province's participa-tion in wisdom circles was apparent in the July gathering and intensified in the cluster groups. Many biblical passages on Wisdom were old familiar friends. Some sisters had broken ground with new research on Wisdom/Sophia; others continued to find richness in Montfort's articulation of Christ as Eternal Wisdom. All were eager to deepen what they knew, to make con-nections, and to move to the unfamiliar, even when risky. This was as true of the women in their seventies, eighties, and nineties as it was of the newest members. The charism was evident in the prayers developed for the opening of both days of each work-shop. Local sisters prepared and led these prayers with remarkable originality, incorporating Scripture, ritual, guided meditations, and dialogue. The prayers' power each time reinforced the truth that the cluster workshops reverenced both the biblical theology that was being presented and the praying community as equal sources of Wisdom. Community. A community is, at any given historical moment, the living incarnation of its charism. In this time of new scholar-ship on biblical Wisdom, more diversity has surfaced than in pre-vious years. Province members struggled to be faithful to the tradition of Wisdom as it continues to develop theologically and spiritually. Since such struggles intimately involve community, two interrelated goals become central for the entire updating pro-cess: to assist each member to recognize her own Wisdom spiri-tuality and to respect the diverse Wisdom spiritualities of others. The cluster weekends with their smalle~ numbers (averaging twenty sisters and lay participants) allowed a more intensive use of the dynamics of the process. Three components promoted the goals: (1) a historical perspective, (2) theology and spirituality working together, and (3) religious and lay solidarity through baptism. History. A central conviction shaped the presentations in the province gathering and in the cluster workshops: to know history is to grow in freedom. Thusl history was a key factor in the clus-ter workshops. Only recently have biblical studies made possible a coherent look at the Old Testament Wisdom literature and at the May-June 1998 Cbiodo and Irving * Theological Updating Theology assists believers in speaking about the God they believe in; their experience of God's invitation and the response they make is what we call spirituality. influence of Wisdom categories on the New Testament under-standing of Jesus Christ. Only recently has feminist theology explored Wisdom/Sophia as a help in rethinking Christology and Trinitarian theology. Even more recently, Sophia theology is becoming a source for ecological theology. Over and over, the participants expressed gratitude for the historical, biblical, and theological perspectives that allowed them to place their own charism and spirituality in context. Overall, the province gathering and the cluster workshops provided a uni-fying and freeing focus for all mem-bers of the province as they participated in events with a common historical perspective and a common set of biblical, theological, and spiri-tual experiences. The members can now speak across geographical bound-aries with a language which all under-stand. Theology/Spirituality. As charism and community are strands in the reweaving, of our theological coats, so are theologyand spirituality. Theology assists believers in speaking about the God they believe in; their experience of God's invitation and the response they make in their individual and community lives is what we call spirituality. In the gathering and in the cluster work-shops, the act of clarifying historical and contemporary speech about Christ, Wisdom, and women's relationship to God allowed the members of the province to distinguish between speaking about God in theological terms and reflecting on their own and others' experience of and response to God. This crucial clarifi-cation reduced conflict and enhanced the goals of helping each member to understand her own Wisdom spirituality better and to respect the diverse Wisdom spirituality of others. The refash-ioning of theological coats allowed people to breathe more com-fortably in. their own spirituality and their community relationships and to achieve what improved breathing provides: a renewed and healthier life. Unity through Baptism. Most cluster workshops contained pro-fessed sisters, former sisters, associates, .and "Friends of Wisdom": Review for Religious ministry colleagues and others interested in Wisdom. Careful guidelines were developed for invitation. The inviting sister-- after describing, to those who showed interest, the content and proceedings of the July province gathering--distributed the mate-rial to be read and later reflected on in the cluster group. This ori-entation provided a common ground for the cluster experience. Despite differences in life experiences, sisters and laypersons were able to relate to questions and issues that had emerged from the province gathering--this was the reading matter for use in the cluster groups. The energy and richness of the different per-spectives provided a model of an ecclesial community of women where historically rigid boundaries between laywomen and women religious could be reshaped. Their unity as baptized Christians became the pattern of deftly woven fabrics suitable for retailoring theological coats of Wisdom. Learnings. How can this concrete and particularized account of one province's experience of theological updating serve oth-ers who may be embarking on a similar project? What general movements can be gleaned for the benefit of all? How can the theological coats be let out to fit without harming the cloth? Six components of this process contributed to the careful alterations of this province's theological coats. First, this project demonstrated the value of a solid founda-tion. The general chapter's directives provided such a founda-tion. Other groups would need something similar. Second, the project combined clear provincial leadership with respectful attention to the members' theological and spiritual experience. The leadership wisely recognized that it was dealing with adults whose experience (gleaned through the interviews) had indispensable contributions to make to the planning process. This continued as the members of the gathering chose their pre-ferred areas of concentration for the cluster groups. Third, the leadership's commitment to a program that would have a reflective theological/spiritual style allowed participants to pause and deepen what they had learned, rather than over-powering them with more knowledge than they could assimilate; and music and poetry provided powerful alternative ways to inte-grate the material. In all the workshops, the opening prayers set the atmosphere in which the biblical and theological presenta-tions could resonate deeply and reach the whole person. The time provided for dialogue and personal reflection in each cluster group' 2.Y7 . May-ff~une 1998 Chiodo and Irving ¯ Theological Updating helped the participants to integrate the material both personally and communally. Fourth, the mission to spread knowledge and love of Wisdom beyond the congregation is vibrant in this community. The work-shops provided models for the sisters to keep in mind as they dis-cern how to communicate to others their own new appreciation of Wisdom. Fifth, the Daughters of Wisdom have nourished their partic-ular charism for three centuries. It is clear, compelling, and solidly grounded. Many congregations, founded in the 19th-century era of apostolic expansion, lack such clarity. Preliminary tasks for them will include reviewing their Vatican II renewal of their charism in the light, not only of the continuing experience of their members, but also of present theological, spiritual, and apos-tolic conditions. The preliminary time spent in such reformula-tion would be well spent. Finally, this small province chose an itinerant theologian in order to provide unity in presentation and spirit. This decision fit their group and may fit others. Larger congregations and those with different needs and hopes may make other choices. Planning that is attentive to the uniqueness of each group will enable the careful refashioning of theological coats so that members can breathe more freely as they move into the future. Outcomes. What came of all these efforts by one province to update itself theologically and spiritually around its charism? There seemed to be both a personal and a communal response to this question. Many spoke of their wanting to pursue Wisdom/Sophia spir-ituality more deeply in their personal prayer. One lay colleague said, "I have never in all my thirty-five years of knowing the Daughters felt so close to them and so personally enriched." One sister said it was wonderful to "see the interconnectedness between the Scriptures and the Wisdom theology as it developed in the tradition"; another said, "Sophia/Wisdom finally made sense to me." One cluster convener wanted to know what'we would do com-munally to continue the education we had begun. Some want to see more Montfortian.aspects in an ongoing study of Wisdom. One sister on holiday in the states reflected on what she had been hearing from the sisters about the province gathering and the cluster weekends: "Sisters from whom I would never expect it Review for Religious have told me of their deeply moving experiences with Wisdom/Sophia. One 82-year-old said she now prays to Sophia." Our theological coats have been stretched and refashioned with added cloth woven of threads newly spun from prayerful experience and theology and even our worldly surroundings. We have not finished. We bring our renewal in Wisdom spirituality to bear on ministry with the poorest of the poor. What differ-ence will our spiritual search and enlightenment make in terms of how and with whom we will minister? The spinning and the weav-ing and the careful alterations go on! Questions for Your Story. United States women religious have a history in this century of recognizing and responding to the need for theological updating among their members. The few remaining years of this centur~z may provide congregations with opportunities to consider whether they need to refashion their members' theological coats and therefore need some careful plan-ning that reflects their charism, ministry, and spirituality. This article has described one province's effort. As you reflect on it, you may inquire about the implications for your own con-gregation: What are the religious, spiritual, and cultural contexts within which you live today? What do you need to do to prepare yourselves to respond to them? What is your situation? What is the condition of your theological/spiritual coats? Are they need-lessly tight? Beginning to tear? Can you breathe freely? Do they restrict your apostolic effectiveness? These are the questions asked by foundresses centuries ago and by members of United States religious congregations earlier in this century. We who are pres-ent- day members find ourselves with the same questions as we look toward the dawn of a new millennium. The answers we give to the questions are important. Notes 1 Gerald and Patricia Mische, Toward a Human World Order (New York: Paulist Press, 1977), pp. 1-3. 2 Lora Ann Quifionez CDP and Mary Daniel Turner SNDdeN, The Transformation of American Sister~ (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1992), documents this first "moment" in the firstchapter, "Changing Times," pp. 3-30. May-June 1998 DONALD J. GOERGEN 260 Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life We often hear about being centered and about centering prayer; we hear, too, about wholeness. Centeredness and wholeness go together. Thus we cannot talk properly about how chastity and sexuality are integrated into the entire human person without first having a sense of our center. Otherwise we are off to a false start. As a sage once said, "There's no point in going fast if you're headed in the wrong direction." We want to be sure we are headed in the right direction. Provinces and congregations are concerned about mission statements and vision statements because they give us a focus and clarity about ourselves. Centering likewise gives u~ focus and clarity. Centering is not simply something that we do for our-selves personally, but something that we do for our com-munity or congregation as well. Centering is one of the main tasks of leadership. Without it, how could we know we are l~eaded in the right direction, no matter how pro-fessionally we might be equipping ourselves for the jour-ney? And so I ask: What is the center of your community or province's life? What or who is my center? Our center? What or who are we? We have to answer that, or be aware of it, before any talk about chastity, because a healthy chastity is a properly Donald J. Goergen OP, formerly the provincial of the Midwest Province of Dominicans, presented this paper, here somewhat revised, to the Conference of Major Superiors of Men in August 1997. He teaches theology at Aquinas Institute, where he may be addressed: 3642 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious centered or focused sexuality. A sexuality lacking a proper center, or falsely centered, is a distorted sexuality. It is as simple as that-- not as easy as that, but as simple. Now, however we phrase it, given our traditions and charism, we are God-centered people, followers of Jesus, called by Jesus, men and women who have turned our lives over to the gospel. If someone says to me, "Don, do you really believe in celibacy, really see any human value in it?" my response must begin with "Do you believe in God?" For indeed how do I talk about the meaning of chastity as I understand it with someone whose cen-ter in life is altogether different from my own? If the person were to respond, "Yes, I do believe," then my next question might be, "Do you believe in the God of Abraham and Sarah, in a God who calls people forth, calls people to be who they can be and to be servants of humanity?" If they again say yes, we then have some common ground on which to discuss our call and its celibate char-acter. Otherwise we are at a disadvantage in describing what a healthy Christian chastity is all about. When we call to mind who our center is, the One on whom our mission and vision are focused, we realize that this puts us at odds with the society in which we find ourselves. Many of the struggles with sexuality have to do with false attempts to adjust our happiness to the ways or perspectives of today's post-Christian world. Some of the struggles, however, are simply human, and to those we will turn later. Here it is important to differentiate the two. Is the struggle of some member of the province a futile effort to give allegiance to two masters, to try to live out of two centers, to live a continuously divided life? Or is it simply the struggle to be more deeply human as the vulnerable creatures we are? Thus, just as there is a need for us corporately to be God-- or Christ--or Spirit-centered, so there is a need for us not to be centered in our culture or society. In it, yes; centered in it, no. Ministering to it, yes; coopted by it, no. Seeing value in it, signs of God's presence there, yes; blindly idolizing it, no. Any healthy sexuality must begin with being a properly centered sexuality, which is rarely the sexual understanding provided by our secular culture, and often not the sexual understanding provided by rep-resentatives of our church. Being centered, then, also means being countercultural, in this area as in every other area of our reli-gious lives; not going out of our way to find fault with our soci-9£1 May-ff~tne 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste L~ It does us no good to be countercuttural in one area of life alone. ety and culture, but not making them the object of our primary allegiance either. If being healthy and chaste implies a countercultural approach to our sexuality, it also implies being countercultural in all areas of our living. Too often we attempt to shore up a rationale for celibacy by dragging in the countercultural justification. But it does us no good to be countercultural in one area of life alone. This is where poverty, chastity, obedience, community, prayer, mission, and servanthood form a whole tapestry. Is our approach to our sexuality consistent with our approach to life as a whole? What good does it do to be sexually abstinent if we are addicted to work, are first-rate consumers, and enjoy almost all the comforts our society offers us? Can we truly say, then, that our center is in a spir-itual or "evangelical" way of life? The chal-lenge is not how to be both healthy and chaste, but how to be both healthy and countercultural. Does health imply adjust-ment to our sociocultural context? From where or whom do we derive our understanding of a healthy life? Could true health imply "unable to adjust to the demands of a secular world"? What does it mean to be "at home" in a society that is not "at home" with religious values? Now, I am not suggesting that Christianity and secularity are at irreconcilable odds with each other. Indeed, we search for seeds of sacrality in the soil of secularity. Yet secularity in the West does imply a neutrality toward religion that becomes an indiffer-ence to it, often even a hostility or a lack of respect--certainly towards religion as central or essential to social and human life. Secularized living neither values nor structurally supports reli-gion. It may give lip service to spirituality, but more often it favors spiritualities as marketable commodities. We ought :not be naive. And so I return to the question: What is the center, corner-stone, focus of my life and ministry? Of yours? Of your congre-gation or community or province? We must first be healthily centered and go from there. Another way of putting it is to ask: What is the ethos of your community, its atmosphere, character, sense of values? What does it structurally support? Is our way of being sexual consistent with that ethos? Is it sexuality that gets dis- Review for Religious torted, or does our sexuality simply manifest a deeper distortion in our lives: the loss of our center? To what does our congregation give witness? If we merrily go along with consumer society, defend capitalism at all costs, tolerate machismo, smugly see Western civilization as superior to others, and are sexually abstinent, then that is what we give witness to. In that context, sexual abstinence is hardly mean-ingful. One of the responsibilities of leadership is to cultivate a cli-mate, help develop an ethos, sketch out the vision, focus the mem-bership. In what sort of environment is it most likely that the men or women of the community will reach healthy maturity as chaste celibates? What threats are there to such an environment? The Credibility of the Gospel In our search for a healthy celibacy, a chaste sexuality, we must feel deeply that there is something important at stake, some value that gives our way of life meaning. We might each express that differently, but I will call this core value the gospel. I do not mean as such the four Gospels, but the gospel at the heart of the Gospels, the gospel of God that formed the center value in Jesus' own life and mission. Like Paul, we live "for the sake of the gospel" (1 Co 9:23).1 Thus a primary, urgent, felt concern in my own life is the credibility of the gospel, which is nothing other than the credi-bility of the God whom I preach. My witness helps to make it credible; it makes my life credible. This is the rationale for a healthy, culturally contextualized (even if countercultural) chastity. The gospel makes sense of my celibacy, and my celibacy must help to make sense of that gospel in our world, my world, at this period of its history. The gospel itself, of course, does not require celibacy, nor does ordained ministry in itself necessitate celibacy. But religious life does see celibacy as essential to its way of being in the world. As religious we freely choose to be celibate as one dimension of our way of living the gospel. This freely chosen celibacy for the sake of the gospel, then, cannot be taken lightly. It is central to who I am as a witness to the gospel, as a witness of the risen Lord, of the presence and power of the risen Christ and his Spirit in my life. The risen Christ and the Holy Spirit are the source of my May-June 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life celibacy, and I at least desire, even in my weakened humanity, to live what I believe. One of the most poignant questions raised by Pope Paul VI in his still unsurpassed apostolic exhortation on evangelization-- which so emphasized witness as the primary form of preaching-- was the question: Do you live what you believe? In fact he raised three questions: It is often said nowadays that the present century thirsts for authenticity. Especially in regard to young people it is said that they have a horror of the artificial or false and that they are searching above all for truth and honesty. These "signs of the times" should find us vigilant. Either tacidy or aloud--but always forcefully--we are being asked: Do you really believe what you are proclaiming? Do you live what you believe? Do you really preach what you live? The witness of life has become more than ever an essential condition for real effectiveness in preaching.' My faith in the resurrection, in the risen Jesus, my own human experiences of the risen Jesus, Jesus' self-presentation to me inviting me to follow him and my response of trust and faith, all these reconstruct me, reorient me, as a human being into being a witness to that grace which has been granted me. By that grace I trust God and God places trust in me. A witness is who I am. I desire never to betray that responsibility, any more than I would wish to betray th.e. most profound friendship given me in life. My witness includes a call to celibacy that I find in my own human experience of God as present to me in this world, Celibacy by itself does not witness to anything. But celibates are witnesses. And so the question is: To what do I give witness? If I am racist, sexist, consumerist, clericalist, arrogant, ambitious, greedy, and sexually abstinent, what I give witness to is racism, greed, male privilege, and sexual abstinence. Celibacy does not give witness, but Francis of Assisi did, and Mother Teresa did, and Cardinal Bernardin did, because the totality of their lives gave witness. Their celibacy made sense only in the context of their lives. And Francis of Assisi's celibacy did not make sense in the context of his world. By merely rational norms any generation would judge him a fool, but Francis's life made sense in the con-text of the gospel. That is the only context that makes sense of our own celibate lives. We are evangelists, not because we are some-how superhuman or something other than human, but because we are convinced that living the gospel is for us a better way to be Review for Religious human. My celibacy is a part of my own humanity and makes me more truly human. It is not necessary for being human, nor nec-essary for living a gospel-centered life, but it does make me to be the human being I am. Without a perspective such as this, there can be no healthy chastity, no freedom, no desire, only fear, only obligation. This is to say, not that living chastely and cslibately is easy, but that it is the only humane way for me to live. Becoming Human Together Beyond the sexuality promoted by the secular culture in which we find ourselves, there is another whole side: mature adult Christian sexuality understood in the context of our total human-ity, with its aspirations, its limitations, its vulnerabilities, its dis-appointments, its joys. We are vulnerable human beings through and through. In my own experience of leader-ship, I learned both how talented and how frag-ile my brothers are. Fragility is not just a matter of misplacing our center, of failing to live from within the depths of our souls, but it is also a matter of what chastity asks of us even when we are centered. It is not easy to be human. A friend of mine likes to say that we are not human beings struggling to be holy, but holy peo-ple struggling to be human. Achieving the deli-cate balance in our lives between the consoling compassionate gentleness of the gospel and its radical challenging demands is not easy, and never achieved or given once and for all. Our vision should be clear, expectations should be high, but our capacity for understanding deep. When there are failures in keeping the vow, the common good makes its demands, but so does the good of the individual human person created and loved by God. Leaders need to be able to distinguish between, on the one hand, some-one who manipulates us, exploits the fraternity or sisterhood or religious family, disregards the reputation of the community, or has been seduced by the false philosophy of our unliberated soci-ety and, on the other hand, the brother or sister who falls short, needs forgiveness, is moving toward deeper integration, and is genuinely caught up with the gospel of Jesus Christ. Here only the one without sin can cast a stone. Does the brother or sister have genuine affection for the com- Celibacy by itself does not witness to anything. May-June 1998 Goergen * Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life munity? Are we the source of his or her deepest identity? If so, then the one who is not against us is for us (Lk 9:50), and we give him or her the benefit of the doubt. Chastity is there, and growth in love and commitment to the gospel. If not, we are being used. If someone is stuck in some rationalized disregard for truth, then the one who is not with me is against me (Lk 11:23). Is the per-son genuinely "in the Spirit" or not? I would trust and help any-one grounded in the Spirit. I would help but not trust those who are grounded in their own agenda. Healthy chastity in a sexually saturated, religiously indifferent society is asking for heroism. Unfortunately, to be heroic is the only way we can go. Areas of Specific Concern. There are several areas of particular concern that have an impact on our living a chaste life. I comment on them only briefly here, but they can well be pursued further in community discus-sions. I have one hesitancy. Several years ago I spent several months in India. One thing I learned about India at that time is this: Regarding anything I might say, the opposite is equally true. Accordingly, I am mindful here that I can only raise or emphasize certain points that naturally leave many other points left unsaid. Gender and Individuality There are many reasons, feminist thinking among them, why gender receives much attention today. We have become accus-tomed to distinguishing between sex and gender, sex referring more to the biological aspects of sexual identity, and gender more to the pyschosocial and sociocultural aspects. I want to stress here, however, that individual differences are as important as differ-ences of gender, or even more so. One of the criticisms of Euro-American feminism by third-world feminists is our assumption that such a thing as "women's experience" can speak for all women. Culture, race, and class deeply affect who we are, So does our individuality. I am not speaking here of individuality individualistically understood, but of each one's unique personhood. When dealing with people, we must remember the significance of these individual differences. Men are not all alike. Gay men are not all alike. Black men are not all alike. A major fallacy in many gender studies may be to assume the insignificance of individual differences. Gender is to Review for Religious be understood not so much as two abstract categories into which we place people, but rather as people first of all, whose gender is secondary. Gender must accommodate itself to persons, rather than persons being made to conform to gender stereotypes. There is more than one way to be human, more than one way to be a man, more than one way to be a woman, more than one way to be gay or straight. The question behind gender is not what I am, but who I am. Along with this, let me include my hesitancy--simply a cau-tion- about topics like masculine spirituality, men's groups, and getting in touch with our maleness. Although there can be value in this movement, I am suspicious that it might buy into a misunderstanding of gender wherein my sexual identity becomes dependent upon group consciousness. I am very hesitant to use the word masculinity and give it precise con-tent. How are groups understanding it? With respect to the men's movement, who are the men we are talking about? What is it they have in com-mon? Maleness only? What is the underlying con-cept of masculinity operative in men's groups? Can one deviate from it? How flexible is it? Is there any stereotyping of femininity in such groups? I am not suggesting that there is no value in a men's movement, or in a gathering of males, but I am suggesting that critique is necessary if there is an underlying assumption that all men experience themselves as sexual beings in a common way. If men come together to interact around issues of "soul" and how soul or spirit manifests itself in our sexualities, that is clearly good. If coming together reinforces a sense of "us men," it perpetuates a false understanding of gender. The question behind gender is not what I am, but who I am. Homosexuality There is no question today but that homosexuality plays a significant role in discussions of celibate sexuality. To some degree this is the influence of our social context, of the gay liberation movement on both society and religion. HIV and the tragedy of AIDS also enter into the discussion. Again my comments here are necessarily brief. There is a place for homosexual or gay and lesbian people in religious life. They can be very creative, pastorally compassion-ate, and spiritually sensitive. Homosexuality is not accepted May-June 1998 socially, however, as of equal value to heterosexuality, although it is fairly well acknowledged psychologically that it is not intrinsi-cally pathological. The challenge for us, however, is not only how to screen in order to accept only healthy homosexual men or women and what our expectations of them should be as regards living a chaste life, but also how to clarify for ourselves whether all healthy homosexual or gay people are capable of living a celi-bate communal life. For our purposes here, I will make some distinctions, risky distinctions, but they can clarify discussion. (I refer here specifi-cally to communities of men.) I distinguish between gay men, homosexual men, and closeted men. Religious communities do not benefit from closeted homo-sextiality. I do not mean that men need to be public about their sexuality, a notion that seems to be an odd bane of our period of history. By closeted homosexuals I mean men who are closeted as regards their own selves. That is, they are significantly out of contact with their sexuality and thus unable to accept the degree or kind of homosexuality present in them; as a result, they are men who live in denial and fear and self-hatred. For homosexual men to live in religious communities, they need to be comfortable enough to be unafraid of their homosexuality, and they certainly need to be able to acknowledge who they are to trusted friends. The deeper issue is the distinction I make, for our purposes, between homosexual men and gay men. This is a distinction not ordinarily made in the gay community. There you are either gay or in the closet. But this has led people to make some mistakes, for the word gay is ambiguous and certainly not univocal. It can refer to gay culture or cultures, to people, to styles of life, even to an ethos, a set of beliefs, a movement~ When so .used, it is unhelp-ful for our purposes of discernment or our witness to the gospel. Although a particular "gay" person may very well be called to religious life and ministry, not everything that is gay is compati-ble with religious life. Many styles .of gay life, dimensions of gay cultures, even cofiamonly held assumptions among many gay men, all these may be quite incompatible with our call and our life. Religious life itself is a particular style of life, a particular sub-culture, grounded on certain convictions held in common. Thus I will here use the word homosexual to describe someone whose sexual orientation is predominantly homosexual, but whose deep-est source of identity is not his sexuality but his faith and its Review for Religious accompanying required way of life. A gay person's deepest iden-tity is frequently his sexual identity, or at least his sexual identity has for him a high level of significance. In other words, while it is possible for homosexual men to live and contribute immensely to religious life, the same cannot be naively said of all gay men or even all healthy gay men. If the network of significant relationships that a man feels he must main-tain for the sake of his identity and health is a gay network, then his heart and soul may lie more with the gay community than with a religious community, no matter how many gay men there may be in a religious community. The defining characteristic of a gay community is its sexuality, for a religious community its spirituality. A gay man can be deeply spiritual, and I place here no judgment on the realities of the gay worlds. I am simply saying that, whereas homosexuality is capable of integration into reli-gious life, gay life is not. Where does one's deepest commitment, heart, and soul lie? If one needs to express one's gay identity in the ways encouraged by secular gay life, so be it, but in religious life this cannot be one's defining identity. What I have said should in no way whatsoever be taken as legitimating homophobia or prejudice against homosexual people in religious life or gay and lesbian people in the society at large. Nor is it meant to disparage the legitimate struggles that people encounter as they attempt to mature sexually in religious life. This article is an effort to clarify who we are as religious commu-nities. We are not and never can be communities of gay men, no matter how many homosexual members there may be. We are and must be religious communities. Affectivity I want to underscore the importance of our affective lives. Among men in particular, this can be left undeveloped or its importance minimized. Although, as I said above, Ihave ques-tions about "the men's movement," I think it important that'men find affective support for themselves among their brethren in community and among women religious and other women too. Affective bonds not only sustain us in our lives and ministries. They also help us live the spiritual life deeply. Affective prayer is deeper than reflective prayer, and contemplative prayer even deeper than affective prayer. Affect ordinarily opens up for us deeper recesses of our being and thus allows us to live life more fully, May-June 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life beyond dull routine, addictiveness to work, and human bonding that is merely cerebral. If nothing else, our lives must be seen by others as loving, perhaps especially by prospective members. There is both a role for affection and a human need for it. The challenge is to live a balanced, integrated, wholesome life. And balance is not something achieved once and for all, but something regained daily. Life implies movement; perpetual sta-bility is death. Integration implies integrity, which is inner freedom graced by God and constant in pursuit of a worthy quest. There are individual and cultural differences in our affective lives, but the world to which we witness, the brothers and sisters to whom we are joined by profession, are asking us: Do you care? Do you feel? We need examples of affecdve maturity among us. Affective growth has a sexual component to it. Among the major reasons for pur-suing sexual maturity among us are the affective maturity that accompanies it and the increased spiritual maturity as well. Hope and Forgiveness I cannot here go into the complexities, difficulties, and vari-ations of sexual misconduct that we have had to confront in the past ten or fifteen years. I do not want anything I say here to minimize the seriousness of these issues or to lead us to excuse ourselves. Our concerns are for the good of our own members, the common good of our communities, along with our primary con-cern for the victims of abuse at the hands of community members who were occupying positions of trust. For the pastoral care of our members in crisis situations such as these and also for the future health of victims and of perpetrators as well, two things are impor-tant: hope and forgiveness. Whatever one's situation in life and whatever the condition of one's life, we cannot allow it to confine us to living without hope. At least three things can contribute to a healthy even if "non-normal" life for perpetrators, victims, and all of us: (1) personal support and clearly defined boundaries, (2) a deepening of one's spiritual life, and (3) personal involvement with available thera-peutic programs. We can all ask ourselves how woundedness in some cases gets transformed into the making of a wounded healer and how in other situations wounds end up in a cycle of wound-ing others. How are wounds "healed" even if never "cured"? Whatever the path we must take, hope is essential to recovery. This much I have learned from my own walking with perpetrators Review for Religious as well as victims: Never let anyone destroy your hope. Strangely, as I was revising this article, I saw the obituary of Viktor Frankl in the New York Times (4 September 1997). Certainly his three-year experience in a concentration camp contained every justifi-cation for giving up hope along with confirming him in the conviction that one's attitude in the face of suffering is essential to well-being. Every one of our brothers, whether a pedophile or a perpe-trator of some other abuse or one of our outstanding members, needs hope. People cannot survive much less thrive without it. All people, as brothers and sisters, need to experience forgive-ness from others in their lives if they are to move beyond various large or small crises towards healing; also, for this same healing, they may need to do some forgiving of their own. To live a whole human life, we must learn to forgive and to be forgiven. This ought not be precipitous. Perpetrators of abuse need to own their guilt and responsibility, go through cognitive restruc-turing, acknowledge their genuine need for reconciliation with victims, their community, and their God. When the way has been prepared, however, forgiveness and understanding need to be there for them if they are to have hope of being restored to their own lives. This does not predetermine how forgiveness happens. Acceptance, forgiveness, and love can be mediated, and must be, from somewhere within the perpetrators' network of relation-ships, from their Christian community. As with all of us, both perpetrators and victims must eventually feel God's presence in their struggle to remake their lives. Health is never a heart of stone. Even though victims cannot take risks and need to protect their increased vulnerability, the goal is not to be limited to resigned anger. It lies in learning a painful compassion. Of course, much more needs to be said here about our mem-bers who have violated the sacred trust placed in them. There has to be an owning of responsibility on their part; they have to have a genuine desire to reform their lives; there must be coop-eration with the congregation or province and its leadership. One thing all of us can learn from these crises is how important for our communities hope and forgiveness are When it comes to the vul-nerabilities in our lives, especially vulnerabilities in our sexual-ity, and most especially when these vulnerabilities become public. We need to learn forgiveness, to forgive and be forgiven, and to May-ffune 1998 Goergen ¯ Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life have hope. These two are at the heart of the Christian gospel to which we have given our lives. They are also pertinent to a healthy attitude toward sexuality. After formulating these reflections of my own, I found Sogyal Rinpoche's Tibetan Book of Living and Dying saying the same thing: "I would like to single out two points in giving spiritual help to the dying: giving hope, and finding for-giveness." 3 Common Fraternal Life Summ.ing up, I must say that the best way to promote a healthy sexuality and chastity among us is to promote healthy community life. The fraternity, sisterhood, or community itself is a significant formative context for us.4 How deep is the bond that unites us? Can the communal context of our living both chal-lenge us and enrich us? Does it come from that deeper spiritual desire, that deep spring, from which our lives and ministries ought to flow? Perhaps common life has suffered assault more than any-thing else during the past twenty-five years; the fraternal charac-ter of that common life has perhaps been too long neglected. If our community is not a deeply spiritual and humanly healthy con-text for the workings of the Holy Spirit, individuals find it a lonely struggle to live the heroic lives we are called upon to live, lives of selflessness in a society that rationalizes greed, arrogance, and exploitive forms of power for which obedience, poverty, and chastity are the only antidotes. And so, what do I ask of present-day leadership in this quest called religious life? --Call us to center ourselves; help us to remember who we truly are; challenge us to be our. best selves. Few things in life, very few things, are truly important. Help us to remember that. --Create a climate, an ethos, for healthy living, for open discussion, but also for the freedom to be spiritual and holy men and women and to give religious witness as well. --Respect and trust the brothers and sisters unless someone clearly manifests that such trust is unde-served. --Trust yourself, seek advice, and be human. --Keep an inner balance, keep your eye on extremes and help us to avoid them. Review for Religious --Be aware that there is a rhythm in our personal lives for all of us, like inhaling and exhaling, a time to plant and a time to reap. Do not supervise our personal growth. --Keep our focus on the charism, and keep our expec-tations clear. --Affirm the importance of sexuality in our lives, but help us to put it in perspective. It is not the be-all and end-all of life. --Call us to lives of integrity, but respect our wound-edness and be aware of how vulnerable we are. Help us to be caring, loving men and women. Teach us to pray. --Have a sense of humor. Life is a way of the cross, but help us to look at that cross from the vantage point of the resurrection. Give us hope. I close with some poetic reflections from a Protestant Brazilian liberation writer, Rubem Alves: What is hope? It is a presentiment that imagination is more real and reality less real than it looks. It is the hunch that the overwhelming brutality of facts that oppress and repress is not the last word. It is a suspicion that reality is more complex than realism wants us to believe and that the frontiers of the possible are not determined by the limits of the actual and that in a miraculous and unexpected way life is preparing the creative events which will open the way to freedom and resurrection. The two, suffering and hope, live from each other. Suffering without hope produces resentment and despair, hope without suffering creates illusions, naivet~, and drunkenness. Let us plant dates even though those who plant them will never eat them. We must live by the love of what we will never see. This is the secret discipline. It is a refusal to let the creative act be dissolved in immediate sense experience. It is a stubborn commitment to the future of our grandchildren. 273 --- May-June 1998 Goergen * Calling Forth a Healthy Chaste Life Such disciplined love is what has given the prophets, revolutionaries, and saints the courage to die for the future they envisaged. They make their own bodies the seed of their highest hope.5 Notes l On this point see letter 20, "Religious Life and the Gospel," in my Letters to My Brothers and Sisters (Dublin: Dominican Publications, 1996), pp. 137-142. Available through Dominican Central Province Office; 1909 South Ashland Avenue; Chicago, Illinois 60608. 2 Evangelii nuntiandi, §76. 3 The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1992), p. 212. A highly recommended spiritual book. 4 See letter 11, "On Community Life," pp. 75-79, and letter 17, "The Continuing Nature of Formation," pp. 115-121, in my Letters to My Brothers and Sisters. s Rubem A. Alves, Hijos del Magana (Salamanca: Ediciones Sigueme, 1976). The above lines have been gathered together from Alves's reflec-tions on pages 219-231. Morning Ear "Morning after morning, he opens my ear." --Isaiah I want to keep my ear wide open like a door foldingout to the sun, ready to receive all that the ball of fire spills across the threshold. I want the Word to trickle through the long canal to the heart and find a place to stretch out in a dream, then expand through my senses to some form in reality. I want it to grow sturdy like a tree that dances in every emotion of the wind, hearing music even when there is only silence. Patricia G. Rourke IHM Review for Religious MARTIN PABLE Skills Needed for Celibacy ~chonaset cIr aotfefde rc hisa sntoitty a, nboirb dlioc aIl e oxrp tlohreeo iltosg sipciarli truaatli oonr amley sf-or tical significance. Such reflections have in recent decades been put forth in masterful fashion by other writers. My purpose is different. Assuming that readers of this journal already have an understanding and appreciation of the value of religious chastity, I focus on this question: What skills ar.e required in order to live out this commitment in a faithful and life-giving manner? I was prompted toward offering an answer to this question by reading a couple of years ago Father Raymond Carey's "Psychosexuality and the Development of Celibacy Skills." As many readers may know, Carey favors a strongly behavioral approach to the assessment of candidates' fitness for priesthood or religious life. Instead of relying on someone's verbalizations about the value of celibacy (which may be impressively lofty and elo-quent without being grounded in lived experience) or even on psychological testing, Carey bases his assessment on the person's life history. The underlying principle is that the best predictor of future behavior is past behavior. In assessing people's capacity to live the vow of chastity, the key question would be: Is the can-didate for religious life developing the skills needed for celibate living? Martin Pable OFMCap has a doctorate in pastoral counseling, has taught courses in it, and has done extensive counseling. Besides giving retreats and workshops, he directs a wellness program for his order and does evangelization ministry. His address is House of Peace Community Center; P.O. Box 05656; M!lwaukee, Wisconsin 53205. 275 . May-3~une 1998 Pable * Skills Needed for Celibacy Carey went on to name--very briefly--twenty-seven such skills. I found his list a bit overwhelming, but I selected a few of the skills and worked out a retreat conference for religious who were already in final vows. The retreatants later encouraged me to put my talk into written form. That is the genesis of this arti-cle. I will follow Carey's distinction between intrapersonal skills (needed to manage internal conscious states) and interpersonal skills (for dealing with other persons), but sometimes my naming of the skills will differ from his. Intrapersonal Skills Self-knowledge Dr. William Menninger once noted that the first meaning of intimacy is "that which constitutes one's own inner self." This . implies, he said, that we must become intimate with ourselves-- know ourselves--before we can hope to be intimate with others. "Know thyself" is a well-known axiom of the ancients. St. Teresa of Avila used to say, "Almost all problems in the spiritual life stem from lack of self-knowledge." Why is self-knowledge so founda-tional? Because it is the precondition for freedom of choice. If I know when I am feeling sad or inadequate or confident or resent-ful or contented or discouraged, I will have important data for making better decisions; whereas, if I am unaware of these inter-nal states, I will likely fall or be driven into choices without really intending them. Then come the regrets: "Why in the world did I do that?" The same dynamics apply to my awareness--or lack of it--of long-standing patterns of people-pleasing or compulsive activity or competitiveness or demanding my own way. Without self-knowledge, change and conversion are not possible. Such self-knowledge is especially crucial in matters of chastity. I need to know what is driving me: my erotic feelings and desires? my tendency to seek companionship to feed my vanity or soothe my bruised ego? my need to feel important to at least one person so as to compensate for my sense of failure in my ministry? None of these necessarily precludes honest celibate living, but I need to be aware of them if I am to manage them. The skill here consists in the ability to tune in to and correctly identify these internal feelings and tendencies. How do we grow in self-knowledge? The basic tool is inter-nal reflection, such as the process described by Father George Review for Religious Aschenbrenner in his famous article "Consciousness Examen" (Review for Religious 31, no. 1 [January-February 1972]). Instruments such as the Myers-Briggs or the enneagram can be helpful in coming to know ourselves. So can the regular practice of journaling and the time-tested practice of spiritual direction. Enjoyment of One's Own Company We have all seen the opposite of this: people who seemingly cannot stand to be alone. This does not come naturally for those who are extroverts. Still, most extroverts do develop the capacity for solitude as they grow older; it is one of the tasks of midlife. Also, we find religious who always have to be busy doing something; they seem unable to just be still or engage in quiet reflection. One has to wonder: What are they avoiding or running away from? Perhaps it is some inner voice that keeps chiding, "You will never be good enough, will never measure up." In any case, celibates need to develop the ability to be alone, to enjoy their own company. This is simply a demand of reality. Having chosen not to marry, we can-not expect that someone will always be there for us. Even in the best of religious communities, there will be times when no one is around. It is the same in ministry, even in these days of collaboration. Much of our time may be spent alone--in our office, our cubicle, our car. The skill lies in the ability to accept that reality and deal with it creatively. Some religious may need therapy to help them understand and manage those inner voices and restless feelings that drive them to avoid solitude. But ordinarily the skill is acquired with time and practice. We begin to actually enjoy quiet time for read-ing, walking, listening to good music. To do that well, though, perhaps most of us will lneed a reasonably comfortable room or office and some degree of pleasant surroundings. It would be well to include here what Carey calls "skills to mon-itor fantasy." This would obviously exclude behavior such as indulging in sexually stimulating reading or viewing, but it would also exclude allowing oneself to fantasize about "what might have been" (or still could be) in terms of romantic/sexual relationships. It is certainly appropriate to do the necessary grieving over such renunciations, but not to keep revisiting them in one's imagination. Celibates need to develop the ability to be alone, to enjoy their own company. '277 May-June 1998 Pable * Skill~ Needed for Celibacy~ One of the instructive stories from the life of St. Francis of Assisi is related by St. Bonaventure. One night, when Francis was severely tempted by lust, he ran out into the snow and formed several snow figures. Then he said to himself, "Look, Francis, the larger one there is your wife and the others are your chil-dren. Now hurry up and find clothes and food for them--they are cold and hungry. But, if all the trouble it takes to look after them is too much for you, then keep your services for God alone." The story is a stark reminder of how chastity sometimes requires a hard dose of "reality therapy" to iolt us out of our dreamy fan-tasies. The "greener grass" on the other side can turn into a cold night and a hungry family. ~ Being grounded in the love of God, I recognize that this is not so much a skill as an attitude or conviction. But it needs to be acquired and strengthened through behavior. Initially, probably most of us accepted celibacy as part of the "package deal" of reli-gious life, or celibacy made sense because it gave us greater free-dom to be of service. But over the long haul that will not be enough to hold us in our commitment to chastity. Something more profound, more soul-inspiring is needed. Stephen Rossetti has called it "the celibacy experience" (Review for Religious 41, no. 5 [September-October 1982]). Rossetti quotes psychologist Ignace Lepp as saying that the chastity of those consecrated to Christ must be "counterbalanced by a genuinely mystical life." There must be, then, a necessary connection between celibacy and mysticism. Rossetti uses Karl Rahner's definition of mysticism as "a genuine though mediated experience of encounter and communication with the personal God." It is this personal experience of being held in the uncondi-tional embrace of God's love that protects religious chastity. It is not something that happens once and for all, but is a chain of real encounters that renew and strengthen the individual's surrender to God. Rossetti says: "It is this experience and the resulting vision which grounds the celibate's apostolate. 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" (p. 676). The skill required here, it seems to me, is to make oneself available to this experience and to foster it. In the concrete, this Review for Religious means regular, personal prayer. If celibacy is grounded in my per-sonal relationship with the living God embracing me with uncon-ditional love, that relationship can grow and be sustained only by communication, by opening myself to that Mystery, by allow-ing the risen Christ to address me as "friend." Psychotherapist A.W. Richard Sipe puts it very clearly: "Prayer is indispensable and fundamental for the celibate life, for there is no other effective way to confront God-Self-Other within the core of celibate reality. ¯ . All other relationships and friendships are grounded in this core or, in the end, they will fail from the point of view of celibacy or celibate love. In studying religious celibacy for thirty-five years, I have never found one exception to this fundamental rule: prayer is necessary to maintain the celibate process." Skill to Prize One's Sexuality Prizing one's sexuality involves at least two elements: first, appreciating one's sexuality as a positive life energy. In my recent book The Quest for the Male Soul, I note that one of the Hebrew words for "man" in the Bible is zakar, which literally refers to the male phallus. The rite of circumcision had deep spiritual sig-nificance for the Hebrew male: it was a sign of his covenant with God as well as of his ethnic identity. Therefore, every time he looked at or used his phallus he was reminded: "I am a Hebrew. I belong to God's chosen people. I am dedicated to God.'.' What a contrast with our own socialization into sexuality. There is no sacred ritual to help us to prize our sexuality. The culture around us tends to idolize it, while our religious training tends to make it an object of shame. It is crucial that celibates come to value their sexual energy as a positive gift of God that needs to be channeled toward nongenital forms of love and cre-ativity. Second, this skill involves coming to a peaceful sense of own-ership of one's sexual orientation¯ Thankfully, as the wider soci-ety is becoming more open about homosexuality, religious life is likewise becoming more open. It is now widely acknowledged that there are homosexual and bisexual brothers and sisters in our communities who are spiritually deep, ministerially effective, and faithfully celibate, just as there are heterosexual religious who embody these same qualities¯ We salute them all. Hopefully, we are growing to the point where we can say: (1) We will not tolerate or cover up deliberate violations of celibate chastity; (2) we will279 . ~Vlay-June 1998 Pable ¯ Skil~ Needed for Celiba not tolerate any discrimination against any brother or sister because of his or her sexual orientation; (3) we will not demand perfection in matters of chastity--only that each of us try to grow, even by our mistakes and sins, toward faithful and loving celibacy for the sake of the kingdom of God. Interpersonal Skills Most celibate religious eventually learn to control their gen-ital sexual drive--through common sense ("monitoring fantasy"), self-discipline, prayer, and the grace of God. What is often more difficult, however, is to deal with longings for emotional inti-macy: the experience of closeness, sharing, and exchange of affec-tion with at least one other person as a kind of healing for the sense of loneliness. Celibates know they are called to love the people entrusted to them, though this is often a one-way love with little reciprocity. Moreover, celibates can and do have good friendships marked by true mutuality. But the vow of chastity does require them to renounce the desire for "that one special

Issue 45.1 of the Review for Religious, January/February 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 [-'OR REI.IGIOOS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single,copies: $2.50. S(~bscription 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 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor Jan./Feb., 1986 Volume 45 Number 1 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR REt.tGIOUS; 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 FOR RELIGIOUS; 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, 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. Review for Religious Volume 45, 1986 Editorial Offices 3601 Lindell Boulevard, Room 428 Saint Louis, Missouri 63i08-3393 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 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is published in January, March, May, July, September, and N6vember on the twentieth of the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edition of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is available from University Microfilms International; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright © 1986 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. A major portion:of each issue of REVIEW FOR REEIGIOOS is also regularly 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 Price of Poverty Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald is well known to our readers for.his frequent contributions. He continues to reside, and may be addressed at ,.St."Jo,seph's; Wellington,Road; Tod-morderi, Lanc.; OLI4 5HP; England. /~ n elderl~ lady came to the sacristy after Mass and gave (f9r her) quite a large sum of money to the priest "for shoes.for that poor man whoread at Mass,today." The reader was in fact a Unive.rsity lecturer with an income, way beyond anything the lady .hadever known, who chose .to" dress shab-bily with down-at-heel sandals. He had more choices ,as ,to lifestyle than the lady who pitied him. Similarly, one has heard a religious conducting a seminar on poverty, forcibly arguing that if one is to be true to the Gospel and the founder's charism, rootlessness i~ really what is meant. The word poverty is too weak to enshrine the concept. He himself wasoenjoying a prbfessional salary with his own bank-account, not one penny of which ever went to his congregation. ~ It is not just .or even,chiefly a matter of human fallibility, but of unreality which is an ever present risk in discussing evangelical poverty. So often the appearance bears no relation to the fact. Even the possibility of discussing poverty argues a degree,of unreality, as most people are either born into or forced into the poverty trap by. circumstances. One can see this in. a third-world context where, paradoxically, evangelical.poverty is almost impossi-bly difficult to live since the blistering reality is so obvious, and the main thrust of.society is to .race away from it. Perhaps G. K. Cheste_rton offers a way into the discussion in suggesting that humanity is the basis for under-standing poverty. He believed that a man ought to know something of th~ embtions of an ihsulted maff, not 4 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 by being insulted but simply by being a man. And he o.ught to know something of the emotions of a poor man not by being poor, but simply by being a man. Therefo~'e in any writer who is describing poverty, my first objection to him will be that he has studied his subject. A democrat would have imagined it.~ Statistics obviously have their place, but are no substitute for fellow-feeling. Religious,_ asked "to be poor both in fact and spirit" (Perfectae Caritatis 13) can, therefore, consider a genuinely poor person in the con-temporary world as a touchstone of reality. Contemporary Poverty A young woman, a soldier's wife was counting the hours until her husband came home on leave. He did come. He had a woman with him whom he sat-.on a settee while he went upstairs and packed a suitcase. He came down and said to his wife: "Well, that's that then; I am off." Such w~is the end of her married life. The biblical type of weakness, vulnerability and poverty is often seen in a woman on her own. 1 cannot see that.the pattern is fundamentally different today. The religious who wants the feel of poverty could do worse than examine her experience. Ratherothan spend days and dollars in meetings discussing th~ topic, much better siarely to visit such people who, regrettably, are to be found within walking distance 6f so °many religious houses. Why talk when we can walk and meet the reality in person?-Poverty is first felt, not discussed. ; That woman is truly poor. She loved her husband and wanted his childre~n i~n a lifetime together, but she was told in the crudestpossible way that her love was worth nothing. She was .nobody to him. "In practical terms she had ceased to exist. She did not even rate,.a letter.or word of understanding or explanation. Yet he was everything to her. One can glimpse'~the emotional-poverty in a person with an immense capacity for love who is unable to express it as she is unwanted and rejected. She is, therefore~, porr in her very identity as her love, which is essentially herself, is apparently woi-thless. ~ As a married woman growing into the ~role, she ~knew who she-was. It was no part-time occupation she had chosen, but a full-time:life to which she had given herself. In view of her particular rejection, inevitably ques-tions must surface as:to her personal worth. Who amq now?Is the best I liave to give worth nothing? Failure. of any kind c~in bring humiliation. Here is a woman who could not keep her husband'. Friends who 6nee welcomed her into their homes as a married woman are now less keen as she is on her own. People will talk about her, scarcely handicapped .by knowing tittle of the true situation. The , ~e Price of Poverty self she once saw and recognized is now seriously shattered, and it will take more than cosmetics to put the pieces together again.-Could she~be worth less? Clearly emotionally impoverished., she is, too, almost 9ertainly econom-ically poor.:.Can she continue living in her ,house? Once budgeting with her husband's income as together~, they tried to build a home, now the home which she helped furnish~ and in which she may have expreSsed her own ta,ste, has ,to beobroken up. Perhaps even the physical fabric in which, to a degree, she~had invested herself will have to go too. She has been literally .uprooted. Her future is a lottery. Have her career or work prospects been handicappedin marrying? How ~nd where is she to five? What is she to do? C~ntemporary Questio.ns _ For anyone seriously wishing to understand poverty with~a, view-to .living it, inevitably the q,u, estion must arise, if this is poverty what am I living? Arriving at that woman's house what would I say to her? Is~the level of religious poverty such that, without ~iving a personal history, one can communicate with her at quite a deep level? Does the religious have expe-rience of rejection and failure? Has the ~reoligious ever felt worthless? Ever lived inca loveless house? Ever been~unable to express love? Has the religious ever been lost in the pre,sent and afraid of the future? By the same token, has one received such warmth, love, affection and security that one can ,,only feel for someone ,who quite ol~viously has not? " Self-respect might suggest that.if she is a poor woman What am I? On the deeper level of~emotion where all of us fu, nction, does religious p, overty sugges, t.that ! came from Sinai with a tract or from life.with fellow-feeling? The religious who has attempted to live "poor both in fact and spirit" will speak the POOr w.oman's language owit.h an immediacy which is first felt rather than~expressed. Poverty means limitation. In aworld where destitution is rampant the meaning of poverty may be obscured. De~stitution means absolutely no choice, and is indefensible as a wa~y of life. Poverty implies limited oppor-tunity. The former has no choice, the latter hasAittle. ~o Chesterton, in the essay mentioned earlier, felt it necessary to say that -"a poor man is a man who has not go~ much money." This seems self-evi-dent to the point of banality, butJif it is su.ch a truism why does it appear to have escaped the lifestyle of so many religious? If that was taken as a rule of thumb, possibly much of the rat!onalizing of evangelical poverty might go. "If a poor persbn can afford it I can consider, it. If not, I can't." It may be that a limited budget with a need to count the pennies should be built into any realistic framework of poverty as a way of life, which, of cours.e, is not 6,/ Review for Religious, Jan:Feb., 1986 .the same.as penny-p.inching. If'circumstances'don't dictate it,.those who freely chorse such'a life should. -.- With whom does one identify? Whatever "evangelical" means, it cannot mean otinreal. The link between religious life imd poverty should be pro-gressively instinctive fo~ the mature person. It was a young married woman caught in the poverty trap who 'summed it all up! "You get to the point that you" doh't.think about things you can't afford." Horizons inevitably narrow. °A poor person with limited opportunity has presumably little choice as to the people be4ives among. He cannot choos~ his neighb0rh~0od, as many testify ~ho would give heaven and .earth to get out of a district if only to give the,children a better chance, "but cannot. For those who find work it is often a dead-end job. Educational and culiural opportunities, vacations and recreations are .similarly limited. If such is not bifilt irito the fabric of evangelieal~poverty we geem to have missed much of the point. Poor people tend to be marginal people in terms of statm, influence 'and opportunity. One bf the gt:eatest tragedies of poverty, it has been noted, is the'inability of'so many people to make afy contribution to society since so m.u.ch potential ig never given the chance to develop. This does not just disqualify many from co.mpeting in whatis called "the rat race," Where the prizes, however won, are strictly personal,-but limits their contribution to life in general and their family and neighborhood iia partic-ular. "Why, therefore, should the religious gibe at being subject to'such limitations, perhaps iffbeing i/~nored, used or patronized? Poverty feels like" that. The very insecurity of contemporary religirus life could be a chance to identify with such marginal people. There are so mar~y marginiil people even in the affluent sqcieties of Western Europe and theUnited Sta'trs, and surely the religious should not leave them behind. InSecurity is in the air. Li~,ing within such limits; the religious will be treated as such. In any case he can do no other. He has no choice. If his place in the pecking order determines how he is treated, in choosing poverty hr'ha~ chosen (o be last. Wh3~ should anyone choose such a~qife? To play at it is one thing, but to choose to live permanently within such limits is something else:~ After all anyone who has ever lived in India, for ekam~le, will have se~n there many "MotherTe'resas," as no doubt they'are to be found all over the globe, but. it can still be puzzling as to why the average ~:eligious might choose that road. Most people,,sensibly, want to widen their horizons, so whychoose limitation in t~rms 'of relationships, lifestyle, dress, travell OlS~orttinity? When poor people used to say that "pove'rty's no disgrace, but 'tis a great inconvenience," someone wh'o grew up as one of them thought the com-ment too rriild for what was ih'fact "a hampering drag upon them.''2 Most resist being pushed to'thb mai-gin so why. would anyone want to live there? 1he Price of Poverty It is hard to see a.nyone choosing this, oti~er than as'a voluntary, short-term contract, yet, apparently, religious have chosen this frr life. Unless this choice is und~rpinned by an integrating vision which can give it worthwhile meaning, any such lifestyle wilLsurely fragment under the age-old tension of catering to champagne tastes on a beer income. It is not in unredeemed human nature to choose less arid be content. There is in much of religious poverty as lived today a close analogy with Parkinson's Law,3 ih as much as affluence expands and is seen to be necessary,as goods and money, become available. Yet if one lives on a figed income in an economic climate of inflation, one cannot spend money.as if there is no tomorrow. I cannot entertain as perhaps I .would like. Not can the°main consideration of "tra'Jel abroad" be a valid .passport. Limitation will be Written into whatever I do. Basically the choice of this lifestyle is made because the.religious choose Christ who chose a stable in preference to a palace and consistently l~eld to that even in death.-It is said that the best fighter.is the hungry fighter, and whoever really wants 'God in Christ must train.to sacrifice anything that gets in the way. The point of poverty, then, is to remove the clutter and tension which would tend to crowd God out. The Methodist sbholar Gor-don Rupp underlined this in a general point: "Never had so many men so" many great possessions as in our modern affluent societies, and what Jesus said about these things no Bultmann has ever been able t0 demythologize. If these things blind the spirit, and if the pure of heai-tsee, then I should find a thousand within the Church on the road.to perfection for every hundred outside."4 The outlook of the consumer society can suffocate feeling for God. The point of evangelical poverty is made more'specific in-an instructive misprint in my copy of the breviary, where St. Paul is m.ade to say of, Christ that "rich as he was, he made himself poor for your: sake in order to make you rich by means of his property (sic)" (2 Co 8:9). This is undoubtedly the logic which appeals to the printer andthe rest,ofus;.but what St. Paul said, of, course, was that it,was in his total poverty that Christ enriched us. "Here everything has been lost in translation. ,In an at.tempt to make sense of the text, nonsense has been made of the Gospel. To see the influence, of this insight on St. Paulqn that same second letter to the Corinthians can be of immense practical help in assimilating, the reason for evangelical poverty and~so nourishing its continuing dynamic. First Put On Christ Invariably Paul~ begins with Christ. Seeing him in his conversion, bap-tism and daily life--"even if we did once .know Christ in the flesh, that~ is I! / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 not how w6knox~.him'now" (2 Coo5:16) he isso enthralled by what he sees that he can only, compare its effect on,him to the creation of light: "For it is the God ~who said, "Let light .shine out Of darkness,'~vho has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of:God on the face of Christ" (2 Co 4:6). He knew his world and himselLto be literally re-created anewin Christ:~ Reality,- no matter how it presents itself, now comes to him in the face ooLChrist, _so he comes to see what God is like in a sacramental world and,progressively, becomes lik~ what he sees. Whatever happens to ,Paul is always in Christ. So illumined, life is shot' through with Christ as he sees God giving himself in the happenings of every day. The more he reflected on God giving .himself to us in Christ the more he was possessed .by what he saw: "For the love 6f Christ overwhelms us when we reflect." (2 Co 5:14). To think that Christ had givenhis life for Paul.in the absolute poverty of crucifixion and death! He,could refuse;Paul nothir~g. Living in such a world, helogically believed that the response of Christians.should be "to. live no longer for themselves but for ,him who for their sake died and was raised" (2 Co 5:15): In other words, the selfish, self-centered core in all of us, which can imprison us in self as cruelly as a child in a ~chbol playground without an adult present, has now been broken up. In Christ, one moves from self to selflessness: Onelives now for Christ as the wholeness of his sacrifice registers, and one comes to realize what an enthralling discovery one has in this unprecedented gift. Even atomic calculations cannot quantify this: So seismic ig the effect on one who.glimpses the reality that Paul can only see .the person given that insight as a wholly new type of being, since, "for an~,one who is in Christ, there is a new creation; the old creation has gone, and now the new .one is here" (2 Co 5:17). One's outlook, value-sys-tem and life itself are now a response to God giving himself.in Christ. That this can take place in the ordinary, everyday world of pagan-Corinth Paul is assured, since.~'for our sake God made the sinless one into~sin, so that in him we mi.'ghi become the goodness of God" (2.Co 5:21). In human nature at~lts worst seen in the,cruclfix~on and death of the s~nless Christ, our-Lord plumbed the depths of human evil and weakness insofar~as one person could, and so enables Paul to see that everything is redeemable in the death and resurrection_of Christ. Nothing can hold .us in Christ. CruCified as his° Mother stood and watched, and buried in ,another man's grave, this it is~ that roots the experience of Christ in the humanity of every age, not least our own. What of course was h.appening was "God in Christ was reconciling the world to himself, not holding men's faults against them. : ." (2 Co 5:20). Glimpsing this, Christians like Paul become "ambassadors for Christ :. as The Price of Poverty / 9 though God were appealin~ through us" (2 Co 5:20). The message, of course, is,simply to "be r~conciled to God" (2 Co 5:20). Ideally the Christian reaches the point of so assimilating Paul's o]nsight that he/she can do no other 'than share it. For the religious, poverty is part ofth6 price paid t,o'preserve that insight. AllLelse gradually falls'away, no longer seen as having any real claim on us in'the light of Christ: "And we, with our. :. faces reflecting like mirrors the brightness of th~ Lord, all grow brighter and brighter as we are turned into the image that we reflect" (2 Co 3:18). All of this takes place not in some Gnostic, esoteric enclave, but in the streets of wherever the Christian happens to be, since "this is the work of the Lord.who is Spirit" (2 Co 3:18). The first and continuing step for anyone who would live genuinely evangel-ically poor, therefore, is to ~put on Christ. Contemplation is clearly primary. First recognize what it is to be christened, and poverty for the sake of Christ becomes a logical necessity. Whatever obscures that vision must go. In Everyday Life While it is true that Paul "was caught up into paradise and heard things which must not and cannot be put into human language" (2 Co 12:4), the second letter to the Corinthians makes it all too plain that' he does'not stay there. It is in the present, in the unpredictability of everydaY life that he sees Christ, and this is marvelously encouraging for anyone attempting to.live poor for Christ. Rich as he was in Christ, people and circumstances will so often combine to subject Paul to an experience not unlike that of the contemporary poor woman mentioned earlier. So often he will be stripped of. everything but his faith (see 2 Co 1:8). -For some, Paul's "all would not be enough. He invested not just the Gospel but his self in Corinth "For my own part, I will gladly spend and be spent on your sohls' behalf, though ~you should love me too little for loving you .too well" (2 Co 12:15). The man wh'o brought Christ to them at such physical and emotional cost is i'educed to writing them a letter in an attempt, to-establish himself again (see 2 Co "3:1-3). "Someone said, 'He writes powerful and strongly-worded letters, but when he is with you, you see only half a man and no preacher at all" (2 Co 10:10). It is not just gratuitous rudeness nor personal dislike, but Paul's nonacceptance as a genuine apostle that is at issue, sohe is afraid that "your ideas may get corrupted and turned away from simple devotion to Christ" (2 Co 11:3). Paul and his Christ are not accepted. His very identity, therefore, is questioned. In an attempt to try and reestablish some lost status he is humiliated into having to give something of his own'record to show that he was not in it for himself, as was suggested neither a naive, misguided 11~ / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 convert nora "con-man" taking advantage of them: "lashes. beaten. stoned.:., shipwrecked., false brethren., sleepless., hunger, thirst. cold., anxiety for all the churches" (2 Co I 1:23-29). Was all this for nothing? He gave everything, yet had not made first base with an influential, articulate group in the Corinthian church. He has deceived no one, yet if a man's good faith is questioned, as was Paul's, he is really poor, for, without that, he, has no currency left. Corinth and life generally.taught Paul that,.such paradox is of the essence of an apostle's life: "We are treated as imposters, and yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and ~behold weolive; as punished, and yet .not killed; as sorrowful, yet always .rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything" (2 Co.7:8-10). Read as experience,and not liter.ature, in these passages 9ne will come close to the mind and life of a poor Christian man. Integrity, reputation, achievement, personality, wealth and so much more that can give a. person self-respect and a worthwhile life are so often taken, and the individual is then dismissed as worthless. Even obvious achievement is seen as a mirhge. To be poor feels like that, seemingly unable to make a contribution though one gives one's all. Paul is so aware of the power of the Gospel and the'powerlessness of the Christian as he tries to communicate it, that it would almost seem a contradiction in terms had not his life followed that pattern since first he gave himself to ~Christ. Perhaps he was never closer to his Lord than in this powerlessness. If the Christ he preached, the faith they received, the life he lived does not suggest integrity, he has ,nothing to offer except an appeal: "Open your hearts to us; we have taken advantage of no one" (2 Co 7:2). . To be reduced to speaking like that, one must be poor indeed. Against that background, too, incidentally, Paul is trying to collect money to help the impoverished Jerusalem church! (see 2 Co chs. 8-9): Part of the cost of becoming a Christian in those da~s may have meant, for ma.ny, broken family and community ties resulting in real poverty at so-many levels. Paul was also economically, poor in Corinth:. "When I was with you and ran out of money I was no burden to °anyone" (2 Co 11:9). For whatever reason he judged it best not to accept help from the Corinthian church. This led. to further misunderstanding, not least.in leading some to assume that his message must .be as ,cheap as its presenter. As so often with the really poor person it seems to be "heads you win, tails I lose," whatever way the coin falls.- Whenever he could ,t~oVmake ends meet, "I robbed other churches by accepting Support from them in.order to serve you" (2 Co. 11:8): These were the other communities in Greece Paul had set up on his way south to ¯ 7he Price of Poverty Corinth, and it must Surely have been an additibnal burden when he was aware of being helped by people who had little enbugh themselves, since "the troubles they have been through have tried them hard, ~,et in all this they h.ave been so exuberantly happy that from the depths of their poverty they .have shown themselves lavishly openhanded" (2 Co 8:2). Evidently poor themselves, they were so eager to help the poor in the Jerusalem church "begging and begging us for thefavor of sharing in this service" that in so doing, "they offered their own selves'first to God and, under God, to us" (2 Co 8:4-5). Such are the people helping Paul; so at one with the mind of their Lord ~that.they, too, from'their poverty, are helping to make others rich. ~' Think ~of the effect oon Paul of such behavior--the bread~he e~its he owes to ~them, ~is also their faith builds up him and so many. They have learned much in a short time. It must be the experience of so many religious across the world that it is largely because of the faith and generosity of such people today that they are able to,live and work. Sucl~ support should.have a marked effect on the way we live. Personal Limitations Emotionally and ecohomically poor in a world in which any religious can. find himself; St. Paul also works within the limits of a ~human frame. The most individual of:men, he is always recognizably himselL Even those who tend to lay all that~is wrong with Christianity at. Paul's feet might acknowledge~that there is something, much or little, in their own characters that they might wish to change, if only to be more effective witnesses to Christ. Paul knows this too. One of the greatest benefits of time spent in Paul's company is to see him operate within the'limitations ~of a genuinely human personality - which is just another expression Of the intrinsic poverty which everyone shares. After each one of us was made they broke the mould. Paul is ever conscious of "a thorn in the flesh" which so bothered him that he pleaded ~;ith God to remove it (see 2 Co 12:7-8). Whatever~ it was, Paul knew he woifld be:.so mhch more effective if only he could b~ rid of it. His .prayer was notanswered. Instead, he was given one of his greatest, most encour-" aging insights, which can help anyone conscious of the poverty of his or her . own resources: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Co 1~2:9). Paul was fine as he was. The fewer his reserves the more must God supply. The~greater his personal inadequacy the ~more pressing his claim on God: So the ultimate paradox for Paul was that when he looked at himself in 12 / Review for-Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 the mirror of his apostolate and saw much that he could wish changed, he saw what was really there, a poor individual man with all his limitations, loved by.God in Christ. His obvious weakness was a claim on God's power. So he could relax and learn contentmeht at a very deep level: "and t.hat is wh~ I am quite content with my weaknesses, and with insults, hard~hips, persecuti~ons, and the_ agonies I go through for Ch_rist.'s sake. For it is when I am weak that I am strong" (2 Co. 12:10).~ The religious inevitably oware of some of his limitations would do well to assimilate that insight. As someone yowe.d to. poverty, he can even integrate his own limitations within,the co~mforting simplicity of that Gospel perspective, perhaps coming to see why Paul could s~y "No wonder we do not lose heart~ T]3o~ugh our outward.humanity is in decay, yet day by day we are inwardly ren~ewed" (2 Co 4:16). As ever, the o~,erriding.belief in God gi.'ving himself in Christ in.the present moment is the dynamic of evangelical pove~y. o Repeated experience w.as to teach Pgul this, even when he felt shattered as his identity as a .genuine apostle is queried, pioneering a way for the Gospel, or facing the growing pains of an expanding Church. Often he finds himself as a leader withotit an army, let down by people from whom he had expected support. Because of his fighting polemic Paul ran the risk, not always successfully avoided; of being unfair to others and no doubt had the chance to repent at leisure ,The physical and emotional strain at times must have been severe~ but it is again all part of carrying the treasure of the Gospel withinthe heart of a poor man. So,he saw that "we are r~o better than pots ofearthenware to contain this treasure, and this proves th~it.such transcendent power does not come from us, but is God's alone" (2 Co 4:7). o~What is attractive is that in circumstances which would liave discouraged ¯ many of us, or have us return home to lecture, write our memoirs, or dine. out on our experiences for Christ, Paul never gave up.-He went forward into the situation, and there found God in Christ with a security,given only to those who give up everything for. him. His life as glimpsed in this letter. shows that "human indeed we are, but it is in no human strength we figlit, our battles" (2 Co 10:3). He expresses this superbly when he admits that "we are in difficulties on all sides, but never concerned; we see no answer to our problems, but-never despair;., persecuted, but never deserted; knocked down but never killed" (2 Co 4:8-9). Again, one should not let the literary construction mask the human reality. Paul is not some superman (canonization is invariably posthu-mous), but a man in Christ, which is why problems, mistakes, anxiety and fear never ultimately crush him since they are seen as reflecting Christ. He ~he Price of Poverty / 13 is always in Christ and so in circumstances where our first move might be to the doctor, the bottle, the cotinselor or the return ticket, Paul's is always to Christ. So when he is in trouble, he sees what is happening to him." ~Always, wherever we may be, we carry with us in our body the death of Jesus" (2 Co 4:9). He lives in Christ as Chrisriives in him, not least in suffering and heartbreak. So real is this that "the sufferings of Christ, it is true, overflow into bur li~,es~," and in that.very experience as Christ is there, "there is overflowing comfort, too, which 'Christ brings" (2 Co 1:5). Up against it, seeing no way through, Paul believes Christ to be an indwelfing presence not a distant model. He shares the experience, often nailed to Christ through people and circumstances beyond his control. So a man, who, like his Lord and so many on earth, knew much of failure, tears and poverty, at the same time, in the pow.er and love of the r~sen Christ,'sees that in his suivival~ though so powerless, "the life Of Jesus; too, may al.ways be seen in our body" (2 Co 4:10). The poverty-stricken Paul~is enriched, in Christ, even using suffering and failure to help reconcile him and his world to God. -,; . ~ Nothing in his experience, therefore, is pointless. Successive centuries have no doubt learned more from the failures of Paul and his Lord than from the successes of their commentators. So a poor man, with at times scarcely a hold on life--"we were so utterly, and unbearably crushed that we despaired of life itself" (2 Co 1:8)--learned to rely on the richness of God. He must have found much time for prayer and reflection or he could: never have read so much into the poverty of the human condition, these passages do not read .as emotion recollected in tranquillity so much as the discovery of the presence of God in Christ when all seemed lost in a harsh, uncaring world. Under God, Paul learned that lesson well. And so, from his own experience of poverty, at many levels, he was anxious and able to pass on what he had found, thanking "the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any. affliction, ,with the.comfort with which we ourselves are comforted byGod" (2 Co ! :3-4). Paul seems hypnotized by the word comfort, since the experience was so real in the.middle of his at times frightening poverty~ The religious lookingfor the vision and stamina to be "poor both in fact and spirit," would do well ~to spend time in the company of such a man who found so much of richness in his own poverty: "For what we preach is not ourselves, but J~us Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servant for Jesus' sake" (2 Co 4:5). In any consideration of the vast topic of evangelical poverty there is both a community and an individual dimension. This article is simply meant 14 / Review for Religious, Jan,-Feb., 1986 as an aid to personal reflection. The Benedictine histbrian David Knowles, in the epilogue to.one of his classic studies of English medieval monasticism, was of the opinibn that property and wealth were contributory factors in its decline. No groups nor individuals could do much about it, as wealth "clUng like pitch." This is surely a human development, not especially a medieval one: If a corrective cannot be found for the individual religious in the Gospel,.a founder's manuscript ru!e, and a contemporary poor person, it is doubtful if le~slation and discussion wiil make it real. It is for the individual to see. , o NOTES -~G. K. ~hesterton, "Slum Novelists and the Slums," in _Heretics LondOn 1905, p. 277. 2Florri' Thompson, Lark Rise to Candleford Penguin Books 1973, p. 31. ~C. Northcote Parkinson, Parkinson's Law: "W0~k e~pan'ds so as to fill the time available for its completion." 4Gordon Rupp, The Old Reformation and the New, Epworth 1967, p. 60. On Silence There is the silence that nurses a sleeping child and the silence that is violence without equal. There is the silence that purifies the notes of birds and the silence that betrays the noise inside our lives¯ There is the silence that comes wrapt in a piece of sky .and the silence that is overcast and threatening. -There is the silence that nourishes our sensitivity to life and the silence that is shattered by soul-destroying work. There is the silence in the dew drop's other world and the silence'thff( is manufactured and pressure packed. ~There is the gilen~ that is tl~e gentlest of friend~ and the silence that is filled with loneliness. There is the silence that takes us by thb hand and: leads us deep into the heart of'Peace. "~ N0el Davis 257 Abercrombie Street Red fern EO. Box 130 Chip~aendale, N.S.W. Australia Harvesting Silence: A Desert Spidtuality Anthony Wi.eczorek, O Praem, ~Father Wieczorek writes: "The very times when life and prayer seem to have fallen apart may well be God's attempt to get our attention and make us face the sort of ~hings we all too easily hide from with our busy and carefully structured lives." His previous article, "Cominitment: Dying and. Ri~ing to S~lf," appeared in the issue of July/August, 1985. Father Wieczorek may be addressed at St. Joseph Priory; 103 Grant Street; De Pere, Wisconsin. 541.15. How does a person go about harvesting silence? The question is an impoflant one to people who find themselves standing amid acres of the stuff. How does a pe~,son gather' together silence," emptiness, and stillness? They creep up.so unobtrusively that their coming is unfioticed until, that is, it is too late. The life that had been so filled with purpose:and people and things to do has .grown distant, separated by a moat of 'silence. But no watery moat is this. It is a moat, rather, of sand and arid wastes, of emptiness and stillness, for silence grows only in desert conditions. What is there, then, to harvest in a desert? . What ,grows there? What value, what purpose can it have? These questions are more pragmatic than they sound: What is. to be: made of life that had been lush with' activity, that has been filled with.purpose when suddenly the activity is gone o seems meaningless and unnecessary? What value has an existence that has lost the art of awareness? What can be made of a life whose dreams and plans and goals have all shriveled up in a blast of desert air so that life seems lost and out of control? The desert, though, is not a punishment to endure. The silence and stillness is a gift that must be received, a crop that must be harvested. 15 16 / Review for" Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 I I have never been in a real, geographical desert but the image of one that pictures provide and that emerges in my imaginings is that of an endless expanse of sand and sky. In the desert that I imagine and inwhich I make my anchorage, there is literally nothing to see. Oddly enough, that is its whole point. A desert is a most carefully constructed work of art. Nature, and God, have taken great effort and artistry fo create an empty backdrop, a single sandy sheet. From the looks of it, it was time well spent; for a desert is not only beautiful, it is functional as well. The desert has an anonymous function that is carefully hidden. In the desert's emptiness there is nothing to hide behind, nothing to conceal; there is nothing to distract. By the very fact of its emptiness, the desert is a perfect place for revelation, a perfect place for confrontation. Hosea spoke of God luring Israel back into the wilderness so that it would once again have to deal with God's revelation. What makes a desert is precisely its paucity of distractions. There the silence is both vocal and visual. It was to such an environment that God called Israel. God called Israel to the desert lJecause it is a place of confrontatitn. = A desert is not geographical; it is an attitude, a cond.ition, a state of the soul. Nor are deserts fixed areas of terrain. Deserts-lie waiting beneath the sarface of skin and sou!. They bubble up, from time to time, like springs of sand that rush out and flood into life. Deserts can appear overnight or sometimes in a~single, often climatic, moment. We close our eyes one unsuspecting night to the lush greenness of our lives only to awake., to nothing, to a howling empty expanse of sand and sky. Deserts are works of art, created not without some little effort. They do not appear randomly or-by accident. God creates deserts in our lives whenever God's patience runs dry. God creates deserts out of thelushness of our lives to force an issue we have otherwise avoided. M~ike no mistake, our lives are indeed lush, not with vegetation, but with things to do, thoughts to ponder, problems to solve, people to meet, greet, to make love and war with. Duti.es, tasks, responsibilities, projects are the trees, plants, shrubbery that have been planted within our lives but which have grown and multiplied at a rate and in a density that isall their own. Many of us, however, have allowed them to grow out of control. The lush foliage that .fills our days and lives~is our alibi. There is so much to perceive, so much to do, so much to read and consider and wonder at, can anyone, human, or divine, blame.us for atleast being selective with our attentiveness? For missing,something here and there? We have so many revelations to deal with in even a single day, how are we to know which is the most impOrtant, the most necessary? We have attempted, though, to cover, not only our Harvesting Silence / 17 tra.cks ~with all our foliage,but God's as well. Prepare ye, then for the dr~ught Whereupon God shall create:in and a~ound us,-from the chaos of our lives, a single, simple desert from which shall emerge in bold silhouette the real, the. true, the ,necessary. Dfteo when I am in a. desert there are two passages that frequently come .to mind. One passagd is from Ursal Le Guin's A Wizard of Earthsea. It is a story about a young man struggling to become a wizard. At one point in his training he. is given this sage bit of advice: ¯ ~ You thought, as a boy, that a mage is on6 who can do anything. So I , thought, once: So did we all::And the truth is that as a man's real power . ~grows and his khowledge widens, ever the way he can follow grows nar-or. ower:- until at last he chooses n~thing, but does only find wholly what he must do . ,~ The trick, it would seem, is to find that must do. It is easier said than done. But difficult though it may be, it~ strikes me as being nonetheless true. ~The key to the finding seems to revolve around getting in touch with limitations, the paucity of resources and talents wherein lies our realistic avenue of . growth.-The desert seems a fitting place for recognizing one's limits, the truth about oneself. ." ¯ .The other.passage that comes'to mind treats the same theme, this one from Annie Dillard's Teaching a ~Stone to Talk: I think it would be well, and proper, and obedient, and pure, to grasp your one necessity and not let it go, to dangle from it limp wherever it takes you. W.hat a blessing it would be "to ~asp your one necessity," if only, that is, one knew what-it was. To speak of doing what one "must do" is the same as sp6aking of what is "necessary,"~ and both require the same str~uggle, namely, hacking thr6ugh the jungle of options, choices and aliernatives in ~vhich ~we find ourselves. Times of decision, be they 'great or small, would be so much easier if only we could, perceive the necessary from all the possibiliti.es. There are simply too many choices, too many ways. In such times it is important io disentangle the seemingly necessary from the truly necessary. The de,eft is an excellerit place to do so; the desert is a refuge from the unnecessary. In the.desert one learns quickly what is involved .in returning to riecessity. One of the fi~'st things discovered is l~recisely how necessary the desert is. In the silence and starkness of the desert the unnec-essary has a way of shriveling up a.nd falling away or, in its self-ordained has~tb, of passing usoby. And when it does so, when all is finally quiet and deserted, when we stand surrounded by void, then look and listen well. What emerges from the stillness is that which we seek. I sit in my desert and watch a parade go by. There are clowns and 111 / Review for ,Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 bands, important people in convertibles smiling and waving, Each one wants those on the sidklinesto join them, to take up ranks bohind them, It is the parade,of the unneceskary. Right now I am watching it pass by. I am waiting for"the still, small voice I've heard follows, behind." Sometimes amid: all the noise it goes by unnoticed. Clowns, bands, and crowds make almost as mubh~ noise as winds,, earthquakes and fires. T6 hear it, .then, one must wait and listen attentively. : ~ ~ " ~ ~. ~ . While I wait I notice something about the parade; Us~ually parades move along slowly, butnot 'this one. I ~vonder if it doesn't resemble more a race, a marathon,'than a parade. It reminds me of the joke ab6ut the airline, pilot who was hopelbssly lost but making excellent time:° I wonder ¢vhere the parade/race ends? I don't think it does. It looks a little funny but obviously it isn't~ Everyone heems so serious. I'm beginning to feel guilty and irresponsible just sitting here. ~But l haven't heard the yoice yet, the. still, small one. Actually, I'm:rather glad they ~'e rushing on. They all make me nervous., ~ Gradually the parade moves on. And still I sit, silently waiting. I think the voice is also shy. lt figures; small, still things usuallyare. There are two possibilities: one, it's watching me to see whether l'm safe b~efore it,co, mes out; or, two, it doesn't know that I'm here. Either way, I'll.wait. It will be along sooner or lat.er, that is, if it's necessary. A desert is anything but empty; despite all appearances t9 the ontr~ary, it is filled with an i~i~ense silence. It is so silent and Calm and stilithai~every breath, every heartbeat booms. It is incredibly difficult,oif not impossible, to be uhawat~ in a desert. The sparcity of gcen~ry seems somehow to cleanse the senses. The silence that is both vocal and .visual! Washes over the eyes an~l ears and all the'other senses. In fact, so acute does sensing become that, it can assume an alfiaost paranoic nature. The irony is that.';vhile we imagine things that' are not there, we tend to deny whak is. We struggle in the intense desert silence,~struggle with wafiting to believe with all our hearts "it is'only a mirage," yet haunted by the question "Was it real? Is it~iteal'? The desert silence makes~us realize that, havir~g been so dulled by the Sens6ry:"blitz of life, we hav~ 10st the art of l~erception. There is so muchto see and hear and behold that we noqonger.know.how: Either We have learned to sc?eeh so effectiv~ely, the noise and pace of our lives orwe are blinded an~i:deaf~ned by it all: in either event, once in'the'desert' with so little to sye'and hbar we find we really do not know h6w {o do ~either; But then, that is the°poini"of being in the desert. Harvesting Silence / 19 The desert is a place for not. only confronting things divine; it is first, and perhaps primarily, a place for encountering things human. In a desert wh~t first.is confronted is consciousness. What better way to appreciate sight and Sound than to have,them takenaway. In the desert., where there is nothing, to .see, we learn again how~ to see. In the desert, where there is nothing tohear~but the howling of the Wind, we learn how to listen to ~the spirit. But what" we see and .hear first with our rediscovered senses is ourselves. In the°desert~ in becoming Conscious of ourselves, we paradoxi-cally discover that self-consciousness is the antithesis of consciousness. I do not mean by self-corisciousness the knowledge and recognition of the truth ~about~ourselves. The Christian tradition is adamant about self-knowledge as the starting point in-the search for God. Hear, for example, the iestimony of St. Isaac of Syria, a sixth-century desert father: i~' Enter eagerly into the treasure-house that'lies within you, and so you will see the treasure-house of heaven: for the two are the same, and there is but one single entry into ihem both. q'lie lhdder that leads to the kingdom is hidden within you. Dive into yourselfand :in your soul you will discover the rungs by which to ascend. ° Or, for example, ten centuries later,Teresa of Avila writes in a similar vein: It is no small pit~; and'should cause us little shame, that, through bur own fault, we do not .understand ourselves, or know who we ate. Would ~it not ¯be a sign of great ignorance, my daughter, if a person were asked who he o o was and could not say, and had no idea who his fatheror mother.was, or from what country he came? BecOming conscious of ourselves, both for its own sake and as a means to union with God, is indeed well aitested in theChristian~traditi0n. What is not as-well documented, or.at leastnot as talked about; is the adverse effect self-crnsciou~ness has on ou~ i~bility to be conscious and aware, to perceive not 0nly God, but~the world in which we live. It takes great ignorance, great childlikeness to be consciously aware. On the other hand it is quite impos~sible to be both self-crnscious and child-like at the same time; people are'either one or the other. For example, a child does riot care how he or She looks to oth(rs. This unself-cohsciousness so characteristic of children 'we call innocence. 'It is innocence. It is inno-cence that allows a child to be enthralled when an adult's self-conscious concern for propriety and dignity would compel them to be less conspicu-ous, though'also less perceptive. Annie Dillard-calls innocence "the spirit's unself-conscious state at any momenl~°of pure devotion to any object. It is at once a receptiveness .and total concentration." How.many adults have ¯ the freedorri, the unself-co'nsciousness it takes to coricentrate with recep- 20 /~Reviewfor Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 tiveness and devotion? Those, to be sure, who are most childlike in attitude and orientation. And is this not the point behind the command to :'die to self" in order to follow Christ? Can Christ live in us if we are filled with our self?. Perhaps, too, only children.can enter-the kingdom because it takes a child's unabaslied ability to see and hear to perceive it. Children are life's tourists. They walk about gaping and gawking at every thing and eve.ry one. We permit:.them to do so, to look foolish because they are, after all, only children, who don't yet know any better. But we_ deprive ourselves of the same ability and freedom to stand and behold the ordinary and extraordi-nary things in our lives and in our selves. We let self-consciousness interfere with satisfying our thirst to be truly conscious and aware of the hidden mysteries of life, hidden because to see them we must get down on our hands and knees with our backsides exposed for all to see and crawl about or simply sit motionless for minutes and hours and wait as life unfolds according to its own whim or inner law. To be ~ruly ~ware, truly, conscious of any thing°or any one, let alone God, we must be willing and able toleave ourselves and enter into the reality of the thing or person we are with. Counselors call it attending, the rest of us call it listening, the ability to truly be with another, to share that person's experience; to enter into that persoi~'s life. To attend, toe listen, like any form of consciousness, takes self-emptiness. The desert,s unself-conscious silence is paradigmatic of the emptiness we~need to emulate in order to be aware. We cannot find the. emptiness to be truly receptive, truly devoted, truly conscious, if all our senses are already filled to overflowing with se/f-consciousness. ~ Outside my window and down a little hillside, used to stand se.veral ~trees and different sorts of unruly shrubs. When the trees had bee~n cut down and .the shrubs cleared away, lo, there all at once appeared the river that had hid behind them. In a similar sort of way, self-cons.ciousness comprises much of the lushness that blocks off our ability to see beyond ourselves, to perceive the almost insanely mysterious world we live in. The desert, though, is much too hot and dry to produce much vegetation. The aridity of the desert similarly bakes away our own self~onsciousness. We sit and sweat in our deserts until our senses open like pores and we once again can perceive the horizons we obscured ~with ourselves. ~ In the desert we learn unself-consciousness through a form of sensory deprivation. ,There is so little to see and hear in ~the desert, so little to do that we become deadly bored, even with ourselves. As a result., we launch out a ravenous hunt for something or,~anything to see or hear. For ex~ample, fa:sting cleanses t.he palate. After even a~day 9f fasting.e.ven~ the simplest broth tastes remarkably good. So in the desert, when our senses fast, we Harvesting Silence rediscover the beauty of the little and unnoticed things of life, thingS otherwise lost in all the lushness; ~ III There is another quality to deserts, they are excellent places to get lost. There are very few land' marks in a desert. Ev6n the sand dunes shift. That is why people who iraverse the desert wastes often do so at night, when they can at least rise the stars as navigational guides. All of' this is quite distressing, especially to those exp~e~'ienced with desert lifel IQlost of us have lives With Paths well worn from da.ily routines, habitg, and regul~roPatterns of behavior. We seldom stray from those paths and so'seldom face the reality of gettirig lost. For all our-fi~eedom of will and actionl most of us are likg trains committed to a given track. BUt at least that way. our lives are fairly stable, regular, an~ predictable. At ~uch and such a time we do this and that, and th6n the next routine is followed-- a.nd God help those who try to disrupt the pattern. And so we mbve quite confidently and assuredly ~tirough our lush little jungle lives. At any given moment we~kno~v where we are and what comes next. One way of knowing that we have b~en spiritually teleported ~nto a d~sert is when ~the old routine no longgr works. The stability has become ihstead sterility. Or we may find ourselv.es ina degert as a resultof_some "derailment," some experience or event that thro~vs-us off the carefully laid pattern of our lives. Our first response to this is¯ frequently anger, then panic. The anger is a response to the realization of how thin the veneer is to the ¯ iJlusion that we are in control of bUt lives, that we indeed are not the masters ~t:bur destiny. Then come~ the ~anic when we find our lives are increasin.gly Without purpose or direction. The former goa!s no longer seem as satisfying or even worth the effort. The sense of aimlessness grows and deepens until we rffust adfiait that we, our lives, are lost. The trumpets have all died nbw. Their ruckus.was only to set the stage, .like the wihd, earthquake, ahd fire, for "what is to follow. Before the duthority of the trumpets all other sounits quail. Before their power all else stands dumb in awe. The silence of the other sounds forms an open fieldo that draws all attention.to a sblemn, solitary figure. Bravely and boldly I shout out, "The ti~e has come! I hi~ve grown up. Now I am¯ ready to go oui in ~earch of my destiny! I am going out in search of myself to myself. I am laundhing'an expedition whose ~oal it is to discover and encounter ~ / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 God!? Secretly and equally as silent, the ramparts surrounding the king-dom of heaven make ready for this new assault. But don't mistake the actions, they do not raise new battlement, nor do they send out patrols and war parties. Rather, they assemble and make ready the rescue crews that will search for this new expedition's survivors. Many o~us, at one time Or another, do strike out in search of our lives. Our main goals are past exp~.riences of mastery over earlier tasks and duties. Ultimately, these expeditions, sooassured of success, all wind up in the ~me pla, ce~ h.opelessly lost in some or another desert. Our prey, whether pu.rpose, mea0~ ing, desti ~ny, br God had led us.on unexp~ectedly to a place we never intended to go. We followed it fearlessly into l~he desert and sud.denly find it is too late, too late tO go back, too lost to go ahead. Our careful plans, otir former experience~ had not pl:epared us for this. We are lost, empty, alone; well do we fit into the environment of the desert. At times when we mhy feel this way, lost and empty, without meaning and control, in desperate need of guidance and direction, we should not lament, for the strategy is Working. Th~ strategy of ~ear~hing for God is simple: get yourself so hope.lessly lost that God fias nochoice but to go out and find you~ This much is simple, and most p.eople accomplish it without even trying. Unfortunately, it is only half the str.ategy. The rest is much more 'distas~teful but becomes easier to swallow the longer and more hope-l~ sly we. remain lost. The remainder of the° sti'ategy is this: we must be willing ~0 be found'and (this is the clincher) we m~t agree to being found~i on God's terms. The whole magnific~'nt adventure, whether we entered upon it willingly or found ourselves thrust into it, has this as its purpose: agreeing to God's terms for being found, recognizing and. accepting our dependence upon God. I've wandered around in circles for a longtime ~ithout wanting to be found. It's not that I like being lost, it's just that I'm not ready to accept the terms for being found. Don't forl yourself, God's magnanimity is not without its own sort of conditions. God's conditiOns, however, arise not out of stubbornness; they are mediated by necessity. If, for example, a person wants to become an Olympic athlete, one of the conditions that must be met to fulfill that dream is submitting to the rigors of training and practice. Faced 'with those conditions, that person may opt to observe the games rather than participate in them directly: It's not enough to. wants.to be found; one must need it so m~uch that he or she is wilting to le.t go of other things and embrace willingly. ~he ~necessary conditions. 0.ne of the hardest conditions to accept is letting go of the way I would like to go and follow instead the way ! feel led. The reason mhny peoPle get. Harvesting Silence lost to begin with is because they didn't follow the directions they were given. I want my life to lead in this direction but by following it the feeling of hopelessness and aimlessness only-continues more strongly. My alterna- ¯ tives are two: keep going the way I want even if it means staying lost, or giving in and following with greater commitment the way I feel compelled to go. In my ingenuity I present to God a third plan: "Couldn't we both wander around my path together? That way I could go in the direction I want and you would be with me so I wouldn't feel lost. It may not be the waY home but at least it's easier and more scenic than the way you want to go." No,l don't think so. When we find ourselves in a desert, it may be that we need to reassess the path that led us there to begin with, the routines and habits we so blindly foJlow, that we assume are so necessary. The desert silence and emptiness are not a punishment; they are created as the location for finally confronting the truth about our lives. In the desert, God lives and acts and interacts accord!rig to God's own rules and pace of life. The harvest the desert offers may well be a different,'more spontaneous; a freer and more conscious way of life. It may not be as stable and predictable or as important as one of our own choosing, but it may be more conducive for perceiving clearly the necessary presence of God speaking and poking through our well-~orn paths at unexpected times. The ironic thing about deserts is that they are excellent places to be found. In contrast to our often harried lives, deserts are so bleak and stark that God has no trouble finding us.o ° Waiting for Warmth: A February Poem The water's running cold as 1 stand before the mirror waiting for it to warm before I wash and shave and comb my hair. l'm waiting, too, for something else to flow, for a coldness in me to go, warmed in the light of a love that won~ run out as 1 grow,o.ld. ~Neath my winter stillness something stirred. My eyes pooled with melting fears. A quiet spring cleared my doubts away whi!e.washing "my f~ce with tears. Jerome Schroeder, O.EI~I. Cap. Martin Fraternity 843 West GarfieldBlvd. Chicago, IL 60621 Toward a Theology of Health Care Robert A. Brungs, S.J. Father Brungs is Director of the Institute for Theological Encounter with° Science and Technology; His article is based on an address delivered to a meeting of the Health Care. Province of the Franciscan Sisters of Perpetual Adoration on the occasion of a week-end of prayer and reflection. Father Brungs may be addressed through his office: ITEST: 221 N. Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. There is always a temptatio.n, when speaking about the role of a specific group in a larger group, to become quite general, or even utopian. I am deliberately trying to turn my back on that temptation to.day. I cannot and will not adequately address the "role of women in the Church"; the most significant reason for this incapability is that I am not a woman. What I hope to do is to set up a rough framework really a set of boundaries --that should be determinative in any discussion of the role of anyone in the Chin:oh. There is an easy language now in vogue. We glibly speak about our "role in the Church": the role of men, the role of ttie women, the role of the priest, and so on. I would submit that the language is inexact, blurring the reality and therefore dangerous to, and possibly even subversive of, our service to God. We do not "play" or "fulfill" roles in the Church; we live our lives in the Church. The Church, as we ~would all agree, is the developing kingdom of God~ It is that seed 'of the final, blessed kingdom which as St. Mark tells us "is sprouting andgrowing;how he [we] does not know. Of its own accord the land produces first the shoot, then. the ear, then the full grain in the ear" (Mk. 4:27-28). "Sh6 [the Church] becomes on earth," as Vatican II states, "the initial building fbrth of that kingdom [of Christ and of God]. While she slowly grows, the Church ~trains toward the consum-mation of the kingdom and, with all her strength, hopes and .desires [italics 24 Toward a Theology of Health Care mine] to be urfited in glory with her King" (Lumen Gentium, 5). I am stiggesting here that our relationship in and withthe Church is absolute. "Our life in the Church" is precisely and only that, namely, our life, our only life. The Church. is not an association of people in which we fulfill some function but which we can leave to perform another function in some other association. It is not like a man or a woman working in a business, and aiso living apart in a family. The Church demands as she must demand--total commitment and total dedication. Once we have put our hand to the plow there is no turning back, no alternative except betrayal. "Role-language," I fear, can finaliy obscure that rock-bottom, basic commitment. Our lives as religious are intrinsically apostolic (and therefore "service") lives 'not roles. That is the promise we have made to God and to which we have bound ourselves by'vows. Having said that, let us look again at our world, our universe in Which Church is, in which we live. We live in a real universe that has (God-given) boundaries. The universe, created and redeemed by God, has a structure, and structure impliesdimit. This universe in which we live, of which we are a part, is limited, even though what we see as its limits may not be the true ones. °We live, because of Christ's life, death, and resurrection, in a new creation: "And for anyone who is in Christ,'there is a new creation; the old creation has gone, and now the new one is here. It is all God's work" (2 Co 5: 17-18). That world in which we live is created in and through the 'Word of God, and the world and all mankind finds its end and goal in the fullness of the Word-made-flesh. This first fact offaith°~bsolutely undergirds and specifies our understandir~g of ourselves/as-human as men and women since that meaning is found'in, and founded upon, the meaning of Christ's humanity. ~ ~. To understand the meaning of our lives in 'the° meaning of Christ's lifr, we must also.understand the meaning of the Christian community, of the Church: "Even if we did once know Christ in the flesh, that is not how we-know him now" (2 Co 5:16). We now know Christ~ sacramentally, in the Church which° is his body. Thus, an understanding of the Church is necessary, along with a spirituality that consciously, prayerfully, and lovingly recognizes the communal aspects ofour lives as Christians. In this community of God's people we undergo the transformation frorri self-absorption (doing our own thing for our own ends), through the cross (the painful death to our own desires), to the resurrection (the loving conformity of our wills to that of.the~Father). Our life in the Church is.the uneven, painful.but joyous response to that most fundamental commandment Christ Jesus hasgiven us: "You must therefore be perfect just as y~ur heavenly Father is perfect'~ (Mt 5:48). Jesus Christ as Lord is the goal, the 26 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 destiny of the entire race as an interpersonal community. The community of Christ's people of which we each are members .in union--is not merely a sociological grouping; it is the sacrament of Christ.present in the world, a prix;ileged community sacramentally, symbolically, representing, fulfilling, and manifesting the goal to. which .we are all directed, namely, the fully established kingdom of God. "But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a consecrated nation, a people set apart to sing the praises of God who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light" (1 P. 2:9). A second fact of fait.h is our membership in a chosen people, in a community set apart to serve and praise the Lord. There are many w.ays of approaching the mystery of Christ and its meaning for an understanding of.our humanity, and, of course, our sexuality. Since we live in a fallen world redeemed, indeed, but not yet t.otal!y so the best we can do as humans, and that haltingly, is to live sacramentally. The authentic human is integral; and we are not. Much of our search for a meaning of the human is a search for an integrity not given us. here. Our physical reality, as sacramental, as symbolic, points to a reality~that it does not contain. We live not in terms of fruition but in hope. We.cannot now co.reprehend the truth of the fully human; we can only live toward it. To seek a non-fallen expression.of ourselves as human in a yet-to-be-fully-redeemed world is to seek for that which will not be given. This, t~en;js a third fact: we are dis-integral, still seeking our fulfillment as human in the full and final kingdom of God. But, looking ahead.to that final kingdom, there are some things we can say. The~ Scriptures offer us no systematic definition of the human, nor.do they intend to do.so. Full unders~tanding of our humanness is to. be had only in that final kingdom which is still shrouded in mystery. But we can say some things even though their full meaning eludes us. ,.They ca~ at least serve as. guides~. For e.xample, in the fulfilled kingdom of God we shall be integrally human. We don't understand what human integrality is, but we do know some things it is not. We shall not be beasts, nor shall we be angels. The Catholic doctrine is that we shall have bodies, identifiably and recogniz~ably our own and, therefore, specific. We shall remain enfleshed. The imperfections and disabilities that are ours in this world will fall away. We have no detailed knowledge of the risen body, and both Saints Paul and A.ugustine remind us of the futility of speculation in this realm. Biat we know that we are not seeking a return to some "golden age'--back to the Garden of Eden in .order more fully to understand ourselves. Adam and ¯ Eve are not the models of our final humanness. Rather, Christ and.Mary the second Adam and second Eve as integral humans, integrally related and united, contain all the meaning of our authentic humanness. Toward a Theology of Health Care Thus we have a fourth fact: our fullmeaning will be found in Christ.and Mary integrally united with each other. In summary: in any discussion of our lives in the Church, we must remember some facts of faith: (l) our understanding of ourselves is to be found in the meaning of Christ's humanity; (2) that.~neaning includes our membership in a community set apart to serve and praise God, as he wills it; (3) in the present course of salvation history, we are disintegral and seek ¯ our fulfillment elsewhere, in the final Kingdom of God; (4) our full meaning as humans--as individual specific human beings incorporated into God's community' -is to be found in Christ and Mary, in the integral unfallen r~lationship between them. At this point, you might well be asking if I have indeed avoided the tempta~tion I mentioned at the beginning. These are general statements, it is true. But I believe they are necessary to locate our discussion. What they say, essentially, is that we do not live in a vacuum. Our lives, our options, and our meaning are not unlimited. There are precise, significant limita: tions in ourattempted service of God. These limitations are summed up in that term we use so often: "The Will of God." Yet the Will of God most often remains mysterious as it must, Since it is only in fulfillment that we shall know as we are known. But the mystery is not one of total ignorance. The boundaries in which that Will is to be followed have been :revealed to us, and the four facts I have mentioned above are a part of that boundary within which.~ we are:to act. Still, we must get more specific. You are not just women; you are Consecrated women. More, you are not just consecrated women; you are members of" the Franciscan Sisters Of Perpetual Adoration, and then, laboring in their Health Care Province. These facts also act as:bouridaries within which your .service of .Christ and of his Church occur. They are not restrictions in that service; rather they are charismatic delineations of your promiseit service. They represent ybur response to the needs of the community of God's People, a response prompted by the Charism of your foundress. That spirit is a determining factor in how you face the future of your apostolic commitment to ~the growth of God's kingdom qn the Church. But as we all know a charism is given to an individual for the good of the community, for the growth and' strengthening of the Lord's Body. And within that Body ~ there is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of services to be done, but always to the same Lord;oworking in all sorts of different w.ays 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 ,28 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 for a good purpose. One may have th, e gift of preaching with wisdom given him by the Spirit; another may have the gift of preaching instruction given him .by the same S.pirit; and another the gift of faith given b~- the same Spirit; anot ~her again the gift of'healing, through this one Spirit; one, the power of miracles; another, prophecy; another the gift of recognizing spirits; another the gift of tongues and another the ability to iiaterpret them. All these are the work of ofie and the same Spirit, who distributes different gifts to different'people just a'~ he chooses" (1 Co 12:4-11). St. Paul goes on to discuss the Body of Christ, and says: "Now you together are Christ's body; but each of you is a different partof it'(12:27). We are each of us unique, a unique gift of Godto his Church and finally to his fulfilled kingdom. Each of, us I, you, each human .being has a unique, irreplaceable, never-to-be-repeated history with God. Each of us has been given an unrepea~ble set of talents and lack thereof, perfections and lack thereof, strengths and concomikant weaknesses. And each of us .has responded to God out of this being which is ours alone. Each.of us has lived in a perfectly irreproducible history, with relationships to other humans, to other segments of creation and to God. Each, in brief, brings to the Church and to God irreplaceable, unique gifts that cannot be substituted for by anyone else. And it is as individuals that we live in and help make up the commun, ity of God. We live in that community, bear responsibility in it, live out our love in it so deeply that our being a member of that community becomes an irreplaceable part of us and we of it. Although it may seem paradoxical, we are finally "communal individuals." As with each of us as ,individuals, so with those consecrated families of men and women within the Body of Christ. Each religious family--as with each Christian family has its own unique history in the Church, and unique gift to the Church, and unique service to the .People of God. In discussing our role in the Church, we must combine our'individual gifts and history with ~the mission that our religious family has offered to the Body of Christ and which that Body has accepted. We cannot, in brief, deny our gifts nor our history. This weekend you will be praying and Speaking fromoyour own history as a religious comm.unity and from your own gifts particularly your gifts of being women--and there I can be of no help to you. But I believe I can say some things of value with regard to your apostolic charism. And it is to a discussion of this apostolate that I intend to move now. It would be well to consider the place of the healtti care apostolate in the life of the Church. The Health Care Al~ostolate In the ninth chapter of thb Gospel according to St. Luke we. read: Toward a Theology of Health Care / 29 ~He [Jesus] called the Twelve together and ~gave them power and authority over all devils and to cure diseases, and he sent them out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal. ~ This gives a clear link between proclaiming the kingdom of God and healing. Thus it is very important for us to articulate and specify the reasons for the Church's institutional presence in and through you and your partners and helpers in the apostolate of health care, or bett~r, of heating and caring. If the Church is going successfully to face decisive changes in health care, and if you are goings,to continue, and deepen, your service to the Church in caring and curing, it is necessary for us to understand as fully as possibie the Catholic dimensions of health care. What are the reasons for the Church's long and deep involvement in health care an involvement that has been so eloquently witnessed by the Work of your community for a century? Is health care--or let us say it better, the care of the sick, the aged, and the weak--is this care something that the Church entered upon historically because no one else was doing it? Or is there something in the very heart of Christian reality that calls forth no, demands such activity? I believe that each one of us here wouldin.stinctively, and rightly, respond that the care of the sick, the weak, and the aged is not peripheral 'to the Gospel. Rather we instinctively know that it is a duty imposed on us by the Lord. There are at least three central reasons for the Church's emphasis on the healing.apostolate that I would like to mention today. They are not exclusive in the sense that there are no others, nor are they cleanly separable from each other. But each of them is very important to our fuller understanding of what the. health care apostolate means to the Church. And each may be helpful as you discern your role of mission in, to, and for the Church. Tl~e ;Great Commandment .First, we have the "second greatest" commandment that our Lord passed on to us: to "love our neighbors as.we love ourselves." This, as we all know, is given a very concrete specification in chapter twenty-five of St. Matthew's gospel:. "For I vbas hungry and you gave.me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and yo.u made me welcome'; naked and you clothed me, sick and'you visited me, in prison and you'came to see me . Insofar as you did this to one of the leasLof these brothers of mine, you did it to me.~ The care of the ~sick, then, is one of the ways in which we Christians ~ / Re?iew for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 carry out that new and solemn command of Christ, given to .us on the night before he died to heal us all: "This is my commandment: 'love one ~nother as I have loved you." Before it is anything else, then, the care of the infirm is an immediate, direct response in charity to the love that our Lord has shown to us. In itself, this would be reason~ enough for the Church's presence in health care. But there are at least two other important aspects basic aspects, really to her involvement in this apostolic work as well. Messianic Sign The first of these'other-reasons can be found in the seventh chapte.r of St. Luke's gospel. The pertinent passage is solemn enough to permit a rather long citation: ,~The disciples of John gave him all this news [the healing of the centurion's servant and the raising from the dead of the.son of th~ widow of Nain, which Luke mentions immediately prior], and John, summoning two of his disciples.~, ~ent them to the'Lo'~-d to ask, "Are you the one who is to come, or must we wait° for someone else?" When the men ieached ~Jesus ¯ they said: "John the B~aptist has sent us to you to ask, 'Are you the one °°°who is to come or have we'to wait for someone else?" " It was just then that he cured many people of diseases and afflictions and of evil spirits, and gave the" gift ~of sight to many ~. who were blind. Then he gave the messengers their answer: "Go back and tell John what you have seen and .o heard: the blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are Cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life, the Good News is proclaimedto the poo.r an.d happy is the man who does not lose faith in me." In this passage Jesus is, in effect, telling John the Baptist that he (Jesus) is doing that~work which Isaiah foretold would accompany the presence of the Messiah among his~ people. Thesd acts of healing were the oOnly credentials he would give to the one Who was to go before him. The blind seeing, the lame walking, the deaf hearing, and so on, all these are witnesses to the presence of the Messiah among his people. Th'ey are the living witnesses to the da~vning of. the messianic times--the only witness John would receive. But now the Messiah arid Lord is still present to his people sacramentally in the Eucharist. And the Church~the .Bride in her health~ care apostolate, in her working to heal the sick and care for the infirm, witnesses to that eucharistic presen~ of the Lord. In her work to help~the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers be cleansed in all that-~-she says to us, and to the world, that the Messiah and Lord is still among-us. Thus, caring for: and healing the sick is a quasi-sacramental, witness .to the continuance of the messianic times inaugurated by Jesus Christ and continuing in the Church until he finally returns to us-in glory to make all Toward a Theology of Health Care things fight. The distress in the world illness~ decay, and death--which revelation tells ug is the result of sin, is slbwly being overcome in the Church, and will indeed be overcome completely in heaven. It is the task of the Church to witness to the life of him who is her life. By her existence she witnesseg to'his existence. By her involvement in the care for and healing of the ill, the oppressed, and the poor-:through your commitment and your devoted work--she says both that the Lbrd is still with us sacrfiment~illy, andthat; when he returns to us in all his glory, we shall all be healed of all our infirmities. Your work in hospitals, then, is a profound statement of our belief that the Lord is with rus still. Thus, on this score as well as that of a direct response in charity, the health care apostolate--since it witnesses to the messianic presence of Christ and to the sacramentality of the present age is central"t6 the faith, to Christian living. It is one of the mbst important .~iays we have to say that "ther6 is a new creation, the old creation has gone, and no~ the new one is here." A Church, that did not witness to the presence of the healing Christ through the~'caringfor and°curing the sick, would be radically unfaithful in her proclamation of the Good News of God's saving presence to his people. SO, let no one disturb you as to the importance, to the centrality to the faith, of your ~apostolic commitment. witness to the Last Time , Thirdly, through you who are engaged in health care as well as in other ways, the Church witnesses to her faith that.°ur bodies will rise to glory through God's powerful gift to us. The resurrection of ohr bodies is one of the great truths entrusted to the Church. It is also one of the truths that we h~,i,e great difficulty'~with, as did the Jews and Greeks. The Jewish Sadducees rejected the notion of the resurrection of the body, and the Greeks were content to.snigger and mock it. In the aftermath of St. Paul's speech in the Areopa~gus in Athens (Ac 17:30-33) we see this nonbelief: God overlooked that sort of thing [thinking that the deity looks like anything in gold, silver, or stone that has been carved and designed by a man] when men were ignorant, but now he is telling everyone everywhere that they must repent, because he has fixed a day when the whole world will be judg&d, and judged in righteousness, and he has appointed a man to be the judge. And God 'has publiciy proved this by raising this man from the dead.- At this mention of rising from the dead, some of them burst out ~ laughing; 6thers said; "We. would like to hear you talk about this again." But it is that ill, corruptible, even corrupting body in the doctor's office ¯ or in the hospital bed that will ris6 into glory! It is that body which you ~2 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb:, 1986 wash or soothe or treat that will be with God forever. There is a serious need right now for the Church to make her instincts on the meaning and significanc~e of the human .body !n our salvation and glorificatio.n more But even now, despite our ignorance, there'are still some things we can s.ay, though not as ~well as we should b~ able. We are not, for exam~ple, saved and glorified in g.eneralities, but in our particularities. We shall, be saved~and glorified as men or. women, as white, black, yellow, or red, as persons of a definite time and place and ethnic background. Our glorified bodies will not be some kind of "generalized matter." These bodies of ours mine and each of yours--are the only. way in which our spirits are manifested in created reality. Our bodies are, and will continue to be, the unique material signature 9four spirits in creation. My spirit,.y0ur spirit., cannot manifest themselves in any old body, but only in my body, on.ly in your body. The union of body ~and spirit that is I--that unique harmony that alone is I is very specific, now and in heaven. This conclusion comes directly from the Church~s dogmati~ position that we shall rise phy.sic.ally, and recognizably ourselves. The health care apostolate--the care of specific people with specific problems, real people who.hurt is one of the most impo .r?tant ways that the Church, the Bride of Christ, has of proclaiming the truth that our bodies, in all their particularities, are sig0ificant, are good, are holy, are-to be saved, are to be glorified. We shall return to this ~notion later on, but for now let us merely say that this belief in, and witness to, the resurrection of our own bodies gives a further intrinsic meaning to the (~hurch's institu-tional concern with and commitment to the healing of the body and caring for the sick. You are saying, by your touch, that this body is significant to salvation and glorification. Changes in Mi~dical Practice ~o ~ It needs no stating here that, as in many other areas of Catiaolic life, there are quite severe stresses in the Catholic health apostolate. This should corrie as no surpris~ to any of us. In fact, if these stresses were not present, we could only conclude either that our health institutions were not providing modern health care, or .that these institutions were no longer Catholic. Since neither conclusion is true, stress is inevitable. Tensions and problems arise from many sources: from profound changes in medical practice itself; from a growing shortage of nuns in ~the health care apostolate; from. a.loss of control of hospital administration and policy; from increasing governmental intervention in health care; and, finally, °from some of the same confusion that is present in the rest of Catholic life. Toward a lheology of Health Care Here, I shall consider only some of the profound changes in medical practice that have occurred in the last quarter century, Even within that relatively narrow area I intend to mention only two aspects, hardware and attitudes. We are aware of the growth of technological medicine which has placed so much new hard~vare between the patient and the doctor, and has raised the cost of medicine so much. This does not imply that technological medicine is bad or is inappropriate, merely that it is different. But the new technology does tend to separate the doctor or nurse from the patient. It tends to emphasize "cure" as "care." It can make the practice of medicine seem more .mysterious and less tiuman to the "patient.' Finally, the proliferation of hardware could (although not necessarily Will) lead the health care professional to an unconscious, indeliberate attitude ~that~the patient is some sort of a "thing" to be "repaired." The growth of this kind of attitude toward patients is but a part of the growth of a technological point of view foward human beings that is occurring in almost all phrts' of western societY. A question for health-care professionals, as for all of our society, is whether or not we are beginning to "lo0k oh human beings as some,things, to be manipulated at whim. The increase in medical technology,.of "hardware," between the patient and the health-care professional demands our attention, but it is not the greatest change inthe practice of medicine in the past twenty-five years. ,Up till now, the greatest impact of this increase in medical technology has probably been in the realm of cost. But the attitudes that can be engendered should not be overlooked. We cab leave this for~a moment so as to look ata far more'profound, and far less discussed, change in medical practice. A ,New Def'mition of Health 0 . Several years ago the ~World Health~Organization (WHO) developed ~and promulgated a new definition of health that reflects a significant shift in 'medical practice. To an extent, this shift is the source of much of the stress in the health-care apostolate. I used a relatively, neutral term--~ reflects--to describe the activity of WHO. To say that the WHO definition caused the shift would be an overstatement. Probably it would be more accurate to state that the WHO definition reflected a Change in attitude already well begun. Whatever cause and effect may be, there is a significant difference between the WHO definition and what most of us lay people think medicine (and health care) has been and ought to be. WHO defined "health" as a state of complete physical mental and social well-being. With a new definition of "health" can new definitions of .34 /.Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 "health care" be far behind? There are several key words in the WHO definitio~n th.at ought to be looked at carefully since ~hey imply a shift even a radical shift in our understanding of health care. The first word that needs consideration is "complete." "Complete" contains a very c.urious notion indeed. This word would have us believe, against all available evidence, that complete well-being is available in °this life. If one were so inclined, one could find in the concept of complete well-being a.denial of many Christian beliefs, from a denial of original sin to a denial of the existence of heaven. Christianity, through its teachingon original sin, warns us against expecting complete well-being on any level, in this world. It is only in heaven that total human justice and well-being will be achieved. The WHO definition, at this level, becomes a salvational statement, premised on the notion that salvation (complete healing of our ills) is achievable somehow through human knowledge. But let's not pursue this aspect any further here.Just on the pragmatic level, we all live with the knowledge that we are all going to die sometime. That knowledge in itself is incompatible with "complete well-being." Perhaps the word "complete" was thrown, into the definition just to make it look better. Still, in a world where health-care resources are at best gravely limit~ed, and where costs are. extremely high and getting higher, the notion of "complete. well-being" is nonsense. More, it is, as has been stated, anti-Christian if it is taken seriously. Health as Social Well-being Perhaps the most significant concept in the definition, insofar as it impacts on Catholic health care, is the relation of "health'~' to "social well-being." This statement reflects probably the greatest single shift in medical practice over the last thirty years, and the one of most immediate concern to the Catholic understanding of health care. It is centered in ttiose "medical" practices that have most agitated Catholics in health care;. the wide-spread dispensing of contraceptive medications and mood-altering drugs, abortion, and contraceptive sterilizations. They all find their rationale in the phrase "complete. social well-being." Most dispensation of contraceptive pills, IUD's, and so forth, have had very little.to do with the physical state of the women to whom they were given: The same, of course; can be said of abortion, contraceptive sterilization, and of course, the pervasive use of mood-expanding and mood-depressing drugs.¯ More often than not, the contraceptive and abortive technologies are resortedto for socio-economic reasons, or simply because the "patient" (or should we say "client"?.) did not~esire another baby. The use of these technologies, in by° far the largest number of cases, .does not serve the-pursuit of physical Toward a Theology of Health Care health, but rather the woman's (or her consort's) quest for convenience, the absence of distress, material possessions, and so f6rth. In a word, the health care profession has efitered--with seemingly little reflection into the "happiness-business." "This means," as George Will has stated in an article in The Washington Post, "that happiness is a medical commodity; happiness is the doctor's business. That, in turn, means almost everything is the doctor's business, so. medicine becomes a classification that excludes nothing, and hence does not classify." This change of attitiade in medical practice is of enormous implication" and concern for Catholic health care. Is the Catholic health concern to be directed exclusively to the removal of pathological barriers to good health and/or to 'the alleviation'of physical painand distress? or is it to be directed to "happiness," to "complete. social well-being"? This is~an immediate and very seribus question. And it is a questi.6n that is going to grow even more urgent in~,the future. Here, it might be well to look ahead just a bit to get a wider perspective of what these questions imply for Catholics, both individuals and institu-tions, in the rest of this century. . Future Questions There is a very good chance that the notion of"health" as "complete. social well-being': could easily become, within the next twenty-five years, the "complete. :. well-being of society. "This is not atall as farfetched as it may seem at first blush. Letus look at this carefully because it will have an almost unimaginable effect on the Church herself and, hence, on her institutional health care apostolate. We are now facing the greatest technological (as well as cultural and especially religious) challenge we human beings have ever know~f: the growing capacity technologically to master ourselves: For the first time in human history we.face a technological Challenge so powerful that it will have to be met primarily in terms of human ends; not merel3~ in t~rms of' techniques, means, and instrumentalities. These new techniques are so "powerful that any overreliance upon "bioethics," or even medical-moral theology, will be misplaced. The grave problem both for society and for the Church is one of meaning, not one of means. Among other things, any understanding of medical practice--in the light of emerging biotechnologies and bio-industries--must include the contemporary scientific-technological frame of mind out of which value judgments are most likdy to be made. The scientific-technological frame of mind is basically instrumental, since it has grown out of a mathematical worldview. That frame of mind looks on all things, human beings included, as essentially quantifiable and ~16 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 manipulable. Michael Zimmerman has stated it most succinctly: "For us [contemporary humanity] to be means to be re-presented, or transformed and rearranged, according to. our desires and projects." As science and technology increasingly turn. toward knowledge of and power over the human., this spirit of transformation, applied to society on a broad scale, will become increasingly worrisome. Will our society feel that these new technologies will achieve their l~otential on an ad hoc, individual level? It seems doubtful. Rather, it seems° more likely that it will be decided that the full potential of biotechnology and bio-industry .can. be achieved only through systematic application across the society, i,e., by a methodical and methodological application. A~ .systematic technological intervention into the human requires some con-trolling ideological consensus of what it means to be human. These new p0we~, to be applie~d systematically on a society-wide basis, must be tied to some dominant notion of the human. It is important to discover which systdm is likely tO be dominant. With biotechnological capability, the dominant notion of medicine will no longer be returning people to some generally accepted norm of health, but rather the creation of new norms of health. That is to say that these new capacities will be directed finally to building new human beings. Th~ principal reason for any society-wide application of biomedichl or biogenetiC technologies is more order, less randomness, in the human situatibn. In consid~ering changes in the human to be passed on to future generations in order to develop new norms of health, one is really talking about eugenics. It is necessary for us to realize that the proposals being made for the use of biotechnological power will be directly aimed at buildi~ng a eugenic, society. Any.s0ciety-wide advance in improving the human stock will inevitably demand new criteria for social (and medical) judgment. As we move from con~ei'n for the physical health of individuals to the well-being of society, br 6f the species, what criteria will be applied to the medical use of bio-scientific discovery? It is most likely one is tempted to say necessary that the criteria for the social applications of, bioscience will be,the basic canons of-experimental science0wedded to the desires and demands.of the dominant cultural system. The three canons of experimental science are simplicity, predictability and reproducibility. In the. technological mode, "simplicity" becrmeso efficiency. Any rational attempt at eugenics demands a "predictable" product. Without such a predictable result, one might as well be content with what we have now. Moreover, if these predictable results are not "reproducible,~' eugenics must remain a fleeting dream, because random- Toward a Theology of Health Care ness will not have been overcome. As the philosopher, Charles Frankel, has stated: The most astonishing question of all po~ed by the advent of biomedicine, . probably, is why adults of high intelligence and considerable education so regularly, give themselves, on slight and doubtful provocation, to unbounded plans for remaking the race . Wight unites the Puritan radicals, the Jacobins, the Bolsheviks, the Nazis, and the Maoists is the deliberate intention to create a "new man," to redo the human creature by design [italics mine] . The partisans of large-scale eugenics plannings, the Nazis aside, have usually .been people of notable humanitarian sentiments. They seem not to hear themselves. It is that other music that they hear, the music that says that there shall be nothing random in the world, nothing independent, nothing moved by its own vitality, nothing out of keeping with some idea: even our own children must not be our progeny but our creation. This "nothing random," "nothing ind.ependent" is the hallmark of experimental science. In the laboratory, the. system under investigation must be as tightly closed as possible. No random variations can be tolerated if the results are to be,reproducible. If the variables cannot be accounted for and controlled, no valid experimentation is possible. The systematic social application of biotechnology based on the canons of experimental science demands the closing ~of the social system and demands that no random, uncontrolled variations take place. In brief, the social system will have to become :the laboratory. Laboratory science is necessarily based on quantification and requires complgte freedom to transform and rearrange the 15asic structure of matter. If such science is to be applied to human beings in any kind 0f a collective fashion, it will demand the unrestricted control of social life. Judging from proposals now being made by many social planners not .to be confused with sociologists these technologies will be used in such a systematic fashion. We,can already see an example of this in the "culling process" in the widespread practice of abortion for :'fetal indications" to remove the burden of the care of such persons from society. The widespread socially orientate°d application of biotechnology~ will not be directed toward individual therapy, as medicine has been in the past. At best such application can be said to be "therapeutic" for society, for the "good of the species," or for some other abstraction. The notion of "nothing random in the world, nothing independent, nothing moved by its own vitality, nothing out of keeping with some idea" should alert us immediately to the source of the dominant social ideal being presented to us as the basis of the social use of these novel technologies. We have here~ ~11 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 in fact, a Gnostic salvation scheme that is essentially anti-Christian: "Gnostic" is taken from the Greek word for knowledge and refers to all those heresies that would provide salvation through human knowledge. Here we have anothel in a long list of salvation schemes oriented toward that final state When justice, .achieved solely through human effort, ~ will pervade the eiirth in historical time. It postulates the temporal perfectibility of the human and of creation. Biotechnology ra.ises questions that have to do with ends and purposes,~that depend on a deep understanding of the human. !n recent "advances," the question has always been set by the "innovator." The question has always been posed in favor, of the specific short term goal of the innovator; usually in a sentimental form. Take the three great reproductive ~technologies of the last twenty-five years: contra-ceptibn,~ abortion, and °"test-tube babies." In none of the issues has the question been posed beyohd short-term individual effects. Thes~ questions (with the answer almost~given) have been: "How can you think of denying people the techhology available to regulate and control the number of children they will have?" ',How can you deny a woman the ~right to those technologies.that will guarantee her control over her own body?" "How can you deny a~marfied couple, deeply in love,.a biological child of their own?" There is a thread common to each of these questions. They ignore history. They take for granted that individual acks of people ("between consenting adults, and so forth") are self-contained and have no relevance either for society or history. Nonetheless, the broadei" questions, must posed. The. meaning of the technology involved in things like contraception, abortion, and in vitro fertilization is critical in any approach to Catholic health care. Across the biotechnological spectrum we have moved from "sex without babies" (contraception and abortion) to "babies without sex" (in vitro fertilization and cloning.) ~ ~ The separation of sexual union from procreation (through contracep-tion and abortion) was, and is, necessary to build a social attitude willing to consider a~ human being as a product of technological achievement, as we now have with the successful birth of a "test-tube baby.," We 6annot allow ourselves to look at these new technologie.s only in themselves, without connection either to What has come before and what is most likely coming in the future. To treat them only in-themselves is to forego qiving in history,~ As has been stated several times, the essential question facing us in' the advance of biological science, technology, and industry (along with its implication for rriedicine) is ~-what it means to be human. We must face squarely whatever costs to human freedom and dignity that might be Toward a Theology of Health Care involved in these new technologies. In vitro fertilization, for instance, is not only some benign new technique that' will be used only to help"~ some Unfortunate, infertile couple have its own biological child. It can provide such an opportunity, but it is also the linchpin in the construction of a fully orchestrated eugenics program. We would be naive, even blind, if we ignore the eugenic probabilities thus opened up. o : Our society and this is especially needed in the Catholic approach to medicine--still has the opportunity to decide what description of "the human" it wishes to call its own. A society based on:laboratory models and techniques is not inevitable unless'we choose either the description of the human as essentially malleable, tO be transformed; to be rearranged, to be disposed of at Will, or else choose not to. think about these things at all; There is already sufficient momentum built into biotechnological advance to arouse serious anxiety unless we clearly and cleanly face ~in issue whose outcome is so momentous to our society and especially to the Church. To do nothing in:this matter-is a powerful statement in favor of'this momentum. And the apostolate of health care will be the first to feel this challenge. '~ ~ What Now? :When St., Paul was dragged before the Sanhedrin in Jerusalem, he exclaimed: "It is for our hope in the resurrection of the dead that° I am on trial'~ (Ac 23:6). And it is for our belief in the resurrection of the body that we are .on trial today. And nowhere does this trial have a greater impact than on those religious whose life is dedicated to the care and cure of the sick and the infirm. As was mentioned earlier, one of the faith-bases of our health care apostolate as an institutional involvement of the Church is the witness to ther meaning, the significance and dignity, 6f the human body in our salvation and glorification. We are not spirits using a body that we will some day leave behind, nor bodies merely moved by a spirit. We are the harmonious union of body and spirit. Neither "aspect of that union can be enhanced at the expense of the' other; neither can be mutilated 'for the sake of the other. Much of our .medical. (and social) attitudes toward the body are at least implicitly dualistic. We speak and act as though we were "persons" (somehow really disembodied) using a body. Often enough we seem to consider our personality as purely spiritual. This simply is not true! Our personalit3~ is spiritual-material. We are not,: nor will we ever angels. We cannot treat our bodies merely at whim without inflicting severe damage on ourselves. Many (if not all) of the reasons given for the nontherapeutic practices in medicin are couched in terms expressive of the 40 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 dualism of "using my body" or having "control over my body.", This is true, by the way, even of the majority report of the Papal Birth-Control Commission prigr to the issuance of Humanae ~Vitae. Despite its overwhelming concentration on the body, the modern attitude, even the medical attitude, is basically spiritualistic. This is seen even in the use of "person" in. liberation rhetoric. In essence, it is a call for "neuterization.'. There are no "persons"~ in this sense in which the word is so often used. There are rather on.ly womenoand men~ Persons are by nature specifically bodies, as men or women, as black,° yellow, red, or white, with a specific ethnic backgrgund, and so on. We are not,going to be saved and glorified as a "human~_nature.'' We are going to be saved as ourselves and this includes our accidents as well as our substance. The Catholic Premise It is n_ecessary for us as Catholics to develop a deeper,, more explicit u~nderstaiading of our bodies. This burden of enriching the Church falls on cache.of us, but most urgently on theologians (the~ theoreticians) and on those health-care professionals (the practitioners) working together in a communal defense of the Church's very profound instinct about the holiness and sacramentality of our bodied existence. It is in the area of ah explicit doctrinal understanding of that.sacredness and sacramentality that our approach to, such~questions as technologies of contraception, abortion, contraceptive sterilization and laboratory conception must be made. Here especially, male and female, practitioner and theoretician, we must all work together in a fruitful, enlightening, enriching defense of the sacramentality and holiness of bodied life. Together,-we must recognize~ defend, and enrich the Church's instinct that we worship God only as the bodied creatures he made us. Continually the Church i~ accused of "physicalism" in her understanding of sexual morality .--~-~ and, let's face it squarely, most of the complaints raised about the Church's, position on many medical practices are concerned with reproductive technologies of one kind or another. ~VCe hear very few, if any, complaints about the Church's position on the use of prosthetic devices artificial limbs,:pacemakers, or (sometime in the future) the implantation of microprocessing chips in the brain to enhance our calculational ability. No, the .real arena, of struggle is reproductive medicine. And here the Church is.accused--both by doctors and moral theologians, or ethicists as they like.to be called now of physicalism because it defends "the natural.,," But what is really involved in this "defense of the natural" is not a blind anti-technological stance, nor is it prudery, nor is it physicalism, nor.is it some kind of old-fashioned nostalgia. Rather, it is the Church's realization Toward a Theology of Health Care / 41 that, male and female, we are in the image of God, and that our sexuality is absolutely tied to our worship of God. The Church's stance is not anti-technology, but it is pro-worship. This has many :more doctrinal ramifica-tions than we can go into here, but it at least means that we cannot technologically interrupt or short-circuit the woi'shipful communication of life-giving potentiality. This is not some old-fashioned "physicalist" view, as some moralists would have us believe. The Church's view is rather hopeful proclamation that we spiritual-material creatures can escape the narrow-ness and absurdity that comes from the consideration of our bodies as "secularized," without sacramental, life-giving, value. Thus, both on the level of dedication to health care and as women, you have the burden and opportunity of enriching the Church's understanding of our bodied life. This is one very significant aspect of your lives as women in the Church. Your vocation places you at the point of conflict on two whole sets of issues. The first is the true exaltation of the feminine both in the Church and in society. The second is health care: The world is telling us that the prime function of the body--and especially of a woman's body---is pleasure. It is saying equivalently that it is an elegant toy. But as Christian men and women, we must say that it is far more than that. Apart from anything else it is a vehicle of the sacramental imparting of the Holy Spirit. Not even God can affect us without some, bgdily medium--(though perhaps 1 had better be careful about saying what God cannot do!) Mar~ ~s Model In terms of your lives in the Church, I would venture only one suggestion, andl I will cast that in a paraphrase of St. Paul's statement to the Philippians: "Let that heart be in you that w.as in Mary." I believe this is tremendously important. The place of Mary in salvation history has not been as fully developed as it can be; It has not been sufficiently pondered. She has, on the contrary, been treated in a very shallow, even if chivalric fashion--"One just can't say enough nice things about Mary." So much of the writing (and praising) of Mary could .almost be summed up in the words of the song "Oh, look at her; ain't she pretty?" But the Mary I'm suggesting to you is one with a terrible, vocation; to stand at the foot of the cross and accept that horror and pain into,her life, There was nothing sweet or sentimental.about it. She had to accept that her Son, part of her,~ was dying. In a sense, she had to ratify in her life the fulfillment of Christ's life on earth (death and resurrection) as she had ratified his humanity (in the Incarnation). Let us look to Mary. As the Fathers of Vatican II have stated (Lumen Gentium, nn. 55-56): 42 Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 She stands out among the poor and humble of the Lord, who confidently await and receive salvation from him. With her, the exalted Daughter of Sio.n, and after a long expectation of the promise, the times were at length fulfilled and.'the new.dispe~nsation established. All this occurred when the Son of. God, took a human nature from her, that he might in th~ mysteries of his flesh free man from sin~ ~ ° The Father of mercies willed that the consent of the predestined mother sliould precede the Incarnation, so that just as a woman contributed to death, so also a woman should contribute tO life. This contrast" w~ verified in.outstanding fashion by the mother of Jesus. She gave to the world that very life which renews all things, and she was enriched by God with gifts befitting such a role. The unity inherent in the "two-in-one flesh" theme (see Gn 2:14 and Ep 5) is the unity of Christ and-his mother at the moment of the Incarnation the unity by which the Holy Trinity is truly present in history. That unity is the creation of the Church at Pentecost in which the Holy Spirit is truly given. The Church is constituted, as Mary is constituted, by the~presence of the Spirit which is the gift of Christ, a creative Spirit. That unity is constituted also in the worship of the Church in. which the Church comes to be by the presence of her Risen Lord in that sacrifice by which he saves. That statement may seem on a first.hearing to be somewhat vague and abstract, so let'stry to make it clearer. Mary's place in'God's saving history was to be asked to accept God's New Covenant with his people. She said "Yes." And that New Covenant that God offered was the Son of God-made-flesh.' Mary's accepta~nce was not merely passive. Her receptivity was creative; the.humanity of Christ was her gift--remember the Council's words "The Son of God tOok a human nature from her. "' At that point Mary and Christ enter into a relationship of the masculine and the feminine that is integral (both are sinless), total, and which will endure forever. It is that relationship (again of masculine and feminine), that "two-in-one-flesh" unity of Christ and Mary, which provides the meaning of the fully redeemed creation. Please note several things here:°we are not putting Maryand Christ on the same level, either as though Mary were divine or Christ"only human; we are not talking about a relationship that we Understand ° it is a union that is integral, i.e., fully redeemed. We don't understaiad this, but we can make some statements. Mary is the ideal and exemplar (see Lumen Gentium, n. 63) of the Church now and of the whole creation ultimately perfected. Mary is the true and full splendor of the created order. She stands in a relationship with Christ in terms of her femininity. Because she is the mother of God, Toward a Theology of Health Care Theotokos, she is understood as the model and archetype of the Church. If creation in Christ (creation fully reestablished and conformed to the Father's will) is the meaning of creation, then Mary is the one complete creature ever created. Her constitution as immaculate expresses the truth not only of the feminine but also of creation and of the Church, a °truth summed up in the term "Mother of God." Or again as Vatican II says (Lumen Gentium, n. 68): In the bodily and spiritual glory which she possesses in heaven, the Mother of jesus contihues in this present world as the image and first flowering of the Church as she is to be perfected in the world to come. Likewise, Mary shines forth on earth, until the day the Lord shall come (see 2 P 3:10), as a sign of sure hope for the pilgrim People of God. Finally, .let us note one more thing. We usualJy associate Mary's virginity with God himself being the Father of Christ; that is to say, the fact of no human male intervention in the birth of Christ accounts for her virginity. But that is merely a factual explanation that does. not even approach the depths of this mystery. It is of enormous importance for us to note that Mary's virginity is fruitful in a child. This is something that we less-than-integral, sinful, creatures cannot yet understand. But if Mary is indeed the exemplar and splendor of creation--and as the mother of the Body of Christ in all its aspects, she is--then somehow fruitful virginity will be the final human posture in the perfected creation. Somehow or other, as fulfilled in Mary, the splendor, the fullness of creation is feminine. Please remember that what I have been talking about is terribly mysterious, and none of us knows any detail, nor, indeed the full reality. In a sense, I have been. discussing poetry rather than a well worked out theology. But that theology has to come; the truth of the feminine depends on it. And it has to come from the prayerful, feminindy devoted lives of women in the Church. Conclusion Well, then, where does all this leave us? Particularly, where does it leave women in the Church who have promised their lives to Christ in the mission of healing? It leaves them precisely where most of us would rather not be, namely, at the intersection of those two lines of severe conflict that I mentioned earlier. They stand with, and in some way as an extension of, Mary, at the foot of the cross. This was her sublime call, to accept within her life first that child whose Incarnation in her was the will of the Father. Then she had to accept within herself the death of that one whose life she had spent her life serving. 44 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 I do not believe that it is old-fashioned or wrong-headed to state that women's love is especially creative. It is the life of the woman to accept, and having accepted, to nurture new life. We are waiting for that continuing new life in the Church. All that I have offered here is another invitation to the Cross of the Lord Jesus Christ. All I can say about this is that there is a good precedent for the offer. To fulfill their lives as women in the Church committed to the service and healing of the ill, the aged, the infirm, religious women in the health-care profession witness to the radical importance and significance of womanhood and the healing love of God. On both accounts they will be reviled by the contemporary world. God offered the First Covenant and the Last Covehant to women: to Eve who refused to nurture it and so brought no new life to the world, and to Mary who did accept it and brought forth and nurtured that new life who is the Christ. Adam's ratification of Eve's refusal brought death; Christ's ratification, of Mary's ac~ceptance brought life. (Note that both the male and the female are involved in both covenantaloffers). The cross! I remember vividly one of the.episodes that Fr. Teilhard de Chardin wrote about in one of his books. He was writing of his life as a chaplain in the French army at Verdun in 1916. On one afternoon there was a more than usually brutal battle for a small hill called Froideterre. Shortly afterward in a moment of quiet, Teilhard reflected in his diary on the battle of Froideterre. He mentioned the total absurdity in which all these young men died. Then he thought to himself that someday the French government would erect a monument on that hill and wondered what that monument ought to be. It occurred to him that, in view of the horror and absurdity of that battle, only a cross could memorialize that battlefield; only in the Cross could such absurdity be redeemed. In our own lives, too, the absurdity can be redeemed only in the cross. Only there shall we find any meaning for ourselves. The Lord God never promised us anything in this world save a share in his Cross. I hope I have intimated that there are enormous riches embedded in the Church's demand that we consider our bodied lives as worshipful and worhipping--that we take ourselves, spiritual-material creatures, as seriously as God. Our bodies are not toys; they are temples of the Spirit of the living God. There are no answers presented in these statements. The only real answer we can give is our lived response to God's offers to us. It is here, and only here, although it requires much faith and effort, that we can base the health care apostolate and your womanly lives in the mission of healing this sadly abused world and its people. Unoriginal Sin and the Grace of the Ordinary Rachel Callahan, C.S. C. In the issue of March/April, 1985, Sister Callahan contributed her article, "The Grace of the Ordinary." Now she takes up the theme again. Sister may still be addressed at the C.S.C. Consultation Center; P.O. Box 1521; Adelphi, Maryland 20783. Sin and grace. There is a paradox in how these two separate, not only distinct but apparently contradictory realities are so enmeshed in the human experience. This article is written out of a profound sense of grati-tude that everything, including our sinfulness, can be "grace" because of the transforming touch of a God who calls himself Love. When I was a child growing up in a small New England town which still had its ethnic parishes, one of my Irish aunts always used to go to the Italian parish for confession. I asked her why she did this. She laughed and told me that no matter what she said to the old Italian pastor he always listened and said in his still broken English: "Now for you penance, once the beads--and go and sin some more." The man was legendary in town as a down-to-earth, holy person who reached out to everyone. While his send-off from the sacrament might at first sight :seem a little unorthodox, it was profoundly real. My aunt never thought it was broken English but only good human sense. When we stop to reflect on the human experience, sometimes it's hard to separate sin and grace. My most gracious actions which genuinely further the kingdom are tainted by motives of selfishness or pride. My most secret or frightening sin carries seeds of grace. Human motivation is so complex that to try to sort out categorically all the sin from the grace can sometimes lead to an inward-turning self-absorption so that energy for 45 46 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 the-kingdom gets lost. This is in no way meant to deny the reality and efficacy of discernment of spirits but only to suggest that in the complexity of human experience we try not to be too judgmental even witli ourselves. The Lord reminds us that the wheat and the chaff grow together till the harvest. Becoming a grim reaper of the weeds will also damage the wheat. In a splendid little book, What Are They Saying About the Grace of Christ?, Brian McDermott, S.J., offers this observation: we need to acknowledge in our quest for social justice and systemic change that to eradicate sin completely from the social structures would in all probability destroy the structure with whatever limited capacity it might contain for good. This doesn't suggest any less dedicated commitment to social justice but simply the reality that in human experience sin and grace are often embedded together. In order to look at this a little more closely let's examine the notions of grace and sin as developmental phenomena. McDermott looks at grace through five vantage points which might be considered developmental stages, certainly not static events. The first moment is grace as accep-tancemi. e, that bed rock, deliciously wonderful good news that God loves us unconditionally, just as we are, no strings attached. This quite over-whelming good news is from our beginning but often our awareness of this is gradual. The deepening, ongoing realization of this reality is the lifelong gracious project that our faithful God has for us. ¯ The second moment of grace is conversion. When Jesus came to his public ministry, the people that drew his special attention were the sick, the sinners, and the Pharisees. Wonderful news he ate with sinners, with the outcast! McDermott points out two foci of conversion. The conversion that we ordinarily think about is Jesus' offer of gracious liberation to the sinner to be converted from his/her sin and the guilt which weighs down, demeans, focuses in on self in condemnation. McDermott highlights another kind of invitation to conversion,-one quite startling. Jesus offered to the Pharisees the invitation to be converted from their goodness. The Pharisees are portrayed as preoccupied with their own goodness, claiming it as their own, and profoundly self-absorbed in their own righteousness. It is a somewhat jarring notion to consider being converted from our goodness. After all, isn't that precisely what we are called to become: more and more "perfect'--(only Lk 6:36 says "compassionate"). But the point is that our focus needs to be on the good God. We are invited to let God be God, i.e., Love, and not be terribly pre-occupied with our spiritual bank accounts. God's grace can never be overdrawn! Both of the movements, the conversion from sin and the equally important conversion from good-ness move us away from self-absorption towards un-self-focused celebration. Unoriginal Sin / 47 God ,saves us and sets us free from both our sin and our goodness. The next three moments of grace ar6 closely linked--discipleship, community, and service. Being learner, student of Jesus, listening, hearing in n~w ways is never finished. As the gracious God works with me I become a "we" person, ministering to and being nourished by the most ordinary kinds of human interactions so that finally the good news of how much I/we are loved gets fleshed out in service. What is amazing is how patient God is in all of this and how impatient we can be. We often try to "run" in his service before we let ourselves "be held" by his acceptance. Early experience of call and vocation often appeals to the desire to serve at a time in human development when we dream great dreams of doing great deeds. And years later, as we live into our limits and learn more and more that all is grace, we learn that God's love is what counts more than our own generosity. Now how does sin fit into this picture. Do we dare think even meta-phorically about sin as grace? First of all, I am using the word "sin" in the biblical sense. One common biblical notion of sin means essentially "miss-ing the mark." Jesus knows how proficient we are at missing the mark. We are by very reason of our human-ness "missers-of-the-mark." Each of us carries not only the generic woundedness of being sons and daughters of Eve and Adam but we ~lso carry what I observe as a psychologist: our own "personalized original sin"--those deficits or traumas in our back-ground that predispose each of us towards brokenness and missing the mark. Let's look at a few examples. Early deficits in parenting, not because of parental malice but because of parental limitations, .or circumstances such as death, illness, or poverty can leave a person bruised or perpetually "hungry." Ordinary needs for nurturance and attention are experienced more intensely, leaving a person feeling very vulnerable or very entitled. Unconscious wishes to make up for deprivation in this area can lead to difficulties in relationship. Either clinging, "take care of me" behaviors or an "I don't need anybody" stance can create interpersonal~problems. And until a person understands and works through this he or she is somewhat captive to these unconscious pulls. Another example of this personalized original sin is genetic makeup. The longer that I work with individuals in therapy the more respectful I become of genetic realities which impact personal!ty as well as hair color. Some persons are more predisposed towards depression, which is a psy-chobiological reality, not simply an emotional state. Studies show a famil-ial pattern in this which suggests both nature and nurture at work. We know that how we think can influence how we feel, and that persons suffering from depression often have to do some work to correct crooked 411 / Review for Religious, Jan.-Feb., 1986 thinking, But we also know that this phenomenon is a chemical reality and often needs chemical intervention, much in the same vein that a person with diabetes or malfunctioning thyroid needs medication to balance the system. Anyone who has ever struggled with the day in, day out miasma of a real depression knows that it is not only very painful but also that, despite the fact that many people carry on their lives reasonably effectively, when depressed, one often feels himself or herself to be no good, doing nothing right. Since sometimes we make the mistake of confusing feelings with reality--e.g., "I feel like a bad person, therefore I am a bad person"--these negative feelings about self produce guilt and hopelessness, and it's easy to magnify one's sense of sinfulness in ways that are paralytic. Fortunately combinations of cognitive therapy, exercises and medication, if needed, are very effective in reversing this condition which has a genetic

Issue 39.3 of the Review for Religious, May 1980. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration wilh faculty members of the Dbpartment of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, MissQuri, © 1980. By REVIEW FOR REL~O~Ot~S. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription'U.S.A.: $8.00 a year: $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RF.L~CaOt~S: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor. Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and A nswers Editor Assistant Editor May, 1980 Volume 39 Number 3 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVlF.W FOrt RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. A Check on Our Availability: The Examen George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenner is engaged in campus ministry, and at the same time, working nationally with priests and religious. He resides at Scranton University, Scranton, PA 18510. [n an earlier issue (January, 1972, "Consciousness Examen") I had written about a renewed understanding of the traditional lgnatian exercise of the daily examen. In that article I preferred to talk of an "examen of con-sciousness," because most of us had come to understand "conscience" in a narrowly moralistic sense. This had turned the examen into a fairly negative practice, soon discarded when we got into the typically busy apostolic life. To set aside specific time each day to see what we did wrong was not very much help. Nor did the practice enrich our apostolate much, because it gradually turned God into Someone always catching us .doing something wrong--and thus we wrought havoc on our self-esteem. A good sense of self-value, an ef-fective apostolate, and our image of God are always intimately connected. A Positive~ Understanding of the Examen .~: The formal examen should rather be a time of prayer about how much God has loved me in the yery existential details of my day, and how he could have loved me more in certain situations if my inner spiritual decisiveness and external presence had been a bit different. This is not just a different articula-tion of the meaning of the examen. Rather, it leads to an enormous difference attitudinally and effectively. A healthy self-esteem has to be ultimately and ir-revocably rooted in our Father's love, climaxed in his victory in Jesus. This neither excessively highlights, nor denies, my daily sinful weakness. Rather it leads to a consoling humiliation, found in a Father's forgiveness that is con- 321 :322 / Review for Religious, V~olume 39, 1980/3 stantly available in Jesus as my personal savior. In this way, the daily effect of my sinful condition is not to tear down self-worth, but to build up true apostolic humility, which itself is the source of genuine self-esteem. This positive understanding of the examen helps avoid another fallacy. Many times the full, rich prayer of the consciousness examen shrinks into a quick, superficial reflection over the day, and the five traditional elements of the examen thus collapse into the third element by itself--a general survey of the day's activities. The formal examen, however, was never intended to be just a quick thinking-over of the day. It is supposed to be prayer--and that within a fairly specific form, one related to the daily contemplation but not identical with it. And if the examen is to be chiefly about God's love for me, then gratitude should play a major affective role. Of course, it is the gratitude of a sinner who is at peace with the nothing he can do on his own, because he is still wonderfully learning how our Father's love turns everything to good--even his own sinfulness. The Examen Is Essential to Availability In the conclusion of his letter to the Society. of Jesus on "apostolic availabi_lity," Father General Pedro Arrupe made thi~ statement: To become partly immobile through lack of availability on the part of individuals and the consequent fear of superiors to give them the missions called for by our apostolate today, would constitute a most serious threat to the very existence of our vocation . lgnatian availability is the guarantee and the conditio sine qua non of our practice, which leads to salvation, and alone is of interest to the Society and the Church. A strong claim! My central point here is that the daily examen is the primary means to maintain this disposition of Ignatian and, indeed, of all apostolic availability. Even so, why should a brief period of prayer assume such great impor-tance? This leads us to another insight often neglected in the past. The formal examen-prayer, with its five elements, (usually) lasting about a quarter-hour, is always a means to the informal examen, which is a special faith-sensitivity that is with one all through the day. Often in our early years, we have turned the formal examen-prayer into an end-in-itself, giving to it a rigid fidelity that corrupted its significance. Of course it would be illusory to imagine that we can grow into living the informal examen=sensitivity without the early development of habitual practice of the formal examen and a con-tinuing adaptation of our involvement with this type of daily prayer. Through the informal examen, a person acquires a special ability for discerning (or examining) "presence" in everything. For Ignatius, this quality-presence was more important and extensive than the formal examen-prayer, inasmuch as this presence helps the person to recognize ,the grace of apostolic availability and flexibility that is being'offered in every situation. Apostolic availability is a profound faith-experience that roots one's iden-tity and security in God's love. When a person's security is too rooted in a job The Check on Our A vailability: The Examen / 323 or a place, or even a certain reputation, there results a stubborn rigidity that undermines his availability, just as availability canequally be undermined by a disordered need for change and variety--as when a person is so superficially committed that he really doesn't care whether he's changed or where he's assigned. In that same letter, Father Arrupe pointed up some of the challenges for what we have termed apostolic availability that are especially present in the new directions, institutional involvements and types of service that are re-quired in the modern world. What is fundamental; though, is that availability ¯ is primarilya readiness and sensitivity of heart, not simply a changing of job and/or place. In the heart of a person serving for many years.in the same mis-sion there can be an availability that is very apostolic and invigorating~--and often more difficult than the "availability" that leads to a new assignment. Apostolic availability and genuine perseverance in the same task orplace can never be opposed. In the formal examen, we hold up our day to be seen against the light of God's love. Sometimes this will be more instructive for us than was the experience itself., We may appreciate what we didn't even see in the actual experien.ce. At other times, we can savor the depths implicit in our sensitivity in the actual experience of the day. The continuing informal examen makes us sen-sitive in every situation to a Father's love that is always available, makes us ready to respond in filial 10ve to the Father's desire, as Jesus was--especially on Calvary. At such a point of insight, we see how often our cowardice or disordered desires reveal us to be persons of the "Second Class" (Spiritual Exercises, 154), who seek to make God come to what we desire. This is precisely backwards: consolation and greater apostolic service are to be found in our coming to what God desires. The sensitivity of apostolic availability distinguishes the heart ofa person of the "Third Class" from one of the "Second Class." The difference can become very subtle in one's interior af-fective life, but what~is always at issue is nothing less than better service for the justice of God's kingdom. Availability and Discernment In our sinful human condition, apostolic availability does not at all come naturally to us, but often is born of our decisive dealing with desolation in ac-cordance with the principles of Ignatian discernment. The seven capit.al sins, as inner affective experiences (.before we intentionally act on them), are each a type of desolate violence endemic to our sinful condition. They infringe on, and restrict the freedom of our availability. In decisively going against this desolate violence (see Exercises319), we become interiorly available to God's loving and consoling attractiveness, which a!ways frees us for whatever his Heart desires of us now. In this way, Jesus' own decisive availability to his 324 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 Father, in service to our world, is gradually born in our affectivity through our careful living, with all the subtlety of discernment, in the face of our inner, desolate violence. The daily examen is the most practical and regularmeans to practice, this discernment for availability. Our particular examen could then focus on the flaw or weakness that now is most keeping us from this fuller apostolic availability. What is that flaw or weakness? It is not so much something that we decide on, but rather what God will reveal: to us in his loving concern that all of us should belong to him ~ver more totally. By responding to his call through the particular examen, and directing our attention and effort primarily against that flaw or weakness, we are allowing ourselves to be drawn more into the apostolic availability of Jesus where he and we best find the Father. The Examen: An Action-Reflection Model Apostolic renewal is not simply being able to get more done. Apostolic ac-tivity is not measured simply in quantity, but must respond to the dictates of a wise sensitivity in the zealous lover of God. A certain degree of.reflectivity is essential to the growth of this sensitivity. Although in the beginning this reflectivity may seem labored and artificial, as one matures in the Spirit it becomes more integrated, less obvious, and part of the "presence" one has everywhere. There is much talk about various action-reflection models to help renew our apostolic presence, and, indeed, some such model can be an essential instrument and method for apostoli~ religious formation from the novitiate onward. I suggest that the examen is precisely such an action-reflection instru-ment, one that is built right into our daily life, and capable of fostering apostolic availability as a whole way of life open to service to the needs of our world for God's greater glory. In these models, we reflect on our experience, hoping that the reflection will lead us to better quality in our apostolic efforts. Hence the reflection is never for itself, nor directed to a self-centered sanctification, Often in the past, the examen did not have an hpostolic orientation, ~but tended to a suf-focating introspection. As we mature in outpractice Of the examen, the separate steps of action-reflection-action integrate into a sensitivity of presence in the activity that makes us available in everything for the call of our Father's love, in whatever way he desires for his greater glory in our world. Just as the routine and regularity of the daily order help to keep the con-templative monk attuned to God, so the examen can keep the apostolic religious, who is both active and contemplative, a~ttuned to God's love, and allow us, mortified by apostolic availability, to find in everything of this world a son's filial, loving service of his Father. Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation Carl F. Stark/off,' S.J.~ Father Starkloff's last article in our pages, "Oppression, Death and Liberation: Thoughts in a Context," appeared in the issue of November, 1978. He continues as superior and director of St. Stephens Indian Mission; P.O. Box 294; St. Stephens, WY 82524. The', title of the recently published National CatecheticalDirectory--Sharing The Light of Faiths'is more provocative than one might think upon first sight, if one reads it as a missionary statement. It can be interpreted in the light of a eatechesis that is meant tO instruct Catholics in the faith handed on through baptism. But if we examine those places in the DireCtory that dis'cuss the relationship between faith and culture,' we may be sufficiently disturbed to make us probe more deeply the rfieaning of what it is to share our faith. To speak of the missionary apostolate brings to mind the turbulent history of the exegesis of the so-called "Great Commission" in Matthew 28:18-20, which is placed on the lips of the risen Christ as he sends forth his joyous (though not yet spiritually rejuvenated) disciples to teach all nations about the source of their joy. This gospel mandate began a missionary enterprise that sent preachers of the Good News throughout the known world and outward to the barbarians of northern Europe, the East and to the far-off British Isles. J. Verkuyl points out that the early reformers, probably because of their sense of urgency to establish their movement among European Christians, wanted (mistakenly) to restrict Jesus' mandate to the time of the Apostolic Age.2 The ~ Sharing the Light of Faith: National Catechetical Directory for Catholics of the I~lnited States (Washington: United States Catholic Conference, 1979). See especially pp. 7-16; 85-98; 116-119. 2 j. Verkuyl, Contemporary Missiology: An Introduction, tr. Dale Cooper (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Pub. Co., 1978), pp. 18-19. 325 326 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 nineteenth century, however, witnessed phenomenal growth in mission activi-ty among all Christian denominations, and the confident expansionist attitudes of the period endured up to the mid-point of, our own century. Today, however, there is a widespread "malaise" among missionaries, as Walbert Buhlmann puts it, though he is careful to note that such a condition is one environment that can nurture hope.~ In any case, there is a c'risis of confidence in the Church's self-image as a "sent" community, and the crisis extends back from the mission frontiers into families and communities, and into individual souls, as Christians question their right and duty to "spread the Gospel." This is a cultural and theological crisis that offers promise of much growth in understanding of the relationship between faith-proclamation and cultural sharing, or, to view it from the dark side, between preaching the Good News and cultural imperialism. A great quantity of material is flowing, from the pens of missiologists about this prob-lem, and there are various theories dealing with the faith-culture question. I have shared in this effort elsewhere. This article, however, is an attempt at a "spirituality" that might further an experiential approach to faith and culture as it is rooted in the life of prayer. Fundamentally, prayer is at the root of this crisis that touches catechesis in the "established" Church, and ,even touches relationships between parents and children. Chesterton wrote somewhere that to deny the right of parents to teach religion to their children is to deny them the right to teach them anything. If our prayer lacks conviction, we are easy prey to dp~bts about this right and duty. In this article, I do not intend to discuss whether there should be missions; I happen to believe there should be. Nor do I intend to take up the much-debated question of a "moratorium on missions"; 1 happen to believe that missions are part and parcel of Christianity. That "mission" should be done differently, with consideration of mutual'resources and values between the missionary and the local culture is beyond iluestion.And that mission should cease to be mission and become church is a prominent New Testament value articulated by St. Paul in his dealing~ with theJocal churches. But amid all the discussion of liberation and oppression, of imperialism and colonialism, of faith and culture, there shines the Light at the center, who is Jesus Christ--the only ultimate justification for all missions. The love of God as manifested in him must be preached-- no doubt in a~.growing way much more by Africans and Asiatics and Other third world people t.o p~eople of the first and second worlds. But they, too, must heed their calling to be transparent mes~sengers. The transparency of which I speak is primarily a question of the missionary's "spiritual life, and that is the subject of this article. A recent b~ok on mission spirituality stresses the importance of the mis-" sionary's life-style for his or her witness to the Gospel. Michael Reilly writes: ~ Walbert Buhlmann, O.F.M., Cap., The Coming of the Third Church, trans. Ralph Woodhall, S.J. (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1977), p. 405. Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation / 327 How can the life-styles of these countless men and women who did so much to spread Christianity in the early centuries be described? There is no lack of testimony and evidence on this point. It can be summarized under five categories: the transformation and moral uprightness of their personal lives, their fellowship and social concern for others, their joy, their endurance under hardship and persecution, and the power which they exercised by virtue of their faith.' This iri general speaks of the awesome demands laid upon the missioi~er. Certainly no mission labors c~in be sustained without these qualities, to which we will more explicitly add perseverance in profound daily prayer, even and especially amid the many "dark nights" that cultural conflicts can create or intensify. The growih in a person's ~n spiritual life should be a continuing conv'er-sion in the intellectual, moral and religious orders, of which Bernard Lonergan writes in the transcendental phenomenology of his theological method.~ Missionaries above all, because they confront so many new and challenging experiences, must undergo such conversion, which is fed by, and, in return, nourishes a gospel-centered awareness. The,apostle must have also that unqualified, unreserved "being in love with God" that Lonergan calls religious faith,6 and this faith should be anchored in the historical reality that is:Christianity. Lonergan writes: ""There is a personal entrance of God himself into history, a communication of God to his people, the advent of God's word into the world of religious expression.'" The missionary will have to apply this dynamic of constant growth to cultural realities and religious values, as well as to his or.her own sources of spiritual power, experiencing these with both.pas-sionate involvement and prayerful detachment. The title "missionary" is not only audacious and shocking; it is unforgivably arrogant unless one assumes in it the motive that stems from the experienCed knowledge of Jesus Christ as the embodied presence of God's love in the world. This love incarnate becomes most explicit in the various' gospel texts that order the proclamation of salvation to all peoples. To preach eternal salvation is fundamental to all missionary zeal. But because salvation is incarnate for the Christian, his preaching cannot merely" project salvation into eternity, disembodied and unattached. The Good News calls people to ex-perience God's love and kindness within temporal existence, Otherwise, why take creation with any seriousness, at all? Our reading of the various reports of the life. and work of Jesus of Nazareth has been conditioned by our catechetical upbringing. We have learned to see Jesus as laying down his life when.he wills to do so, meanwhile battling with the scribes and pharisees in their apparent hypocrisy and their intransigent insistence on external conduct. But it is to the credit of the Michael Collins Reilly, S.J., Spirituality For Mission (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1978), p. 53. Bernard J. F. Lonergan, Method in Tti'eology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), pp. 3-25. Ibid., p. 105, ' Ibid., p. 119. 32~1 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 "liberation theologians" that they have forced us to become aware of the pervasive and persistent struggle of Jesus to win for the poor of Yahweh a humane existence, snatching their lives from the hands of powers that oppress them with needless burdens and joyless, unwarranted submissiveness to human domination. Thus missionary zeal is summoned to examine itself about its concern for a basic humaneness of life; it should feel great pain whenever the Good News is kept from persons because they are humiliated and demeaned, when they suffer oppression or oppress one another. Indeed, our spiritual resources must be strong enough to make us believe that faith can thrive under oppression, but our contemplation of the Gospel also shows us that Jesus fought conditions that enslaved people, Jesus' mission, and that of the Church, is to work for the conditions that permit a joyous and free wor-ship of God. This is a profound social dimension of the Gospel that more and more who read it are coming to perceive. For the prayerful and devout Christian, one of the most urgent motives-- perhaps the motive--for mission.activity, at least in the year~; of Catholic and Protestant missions since the sixteenth century, has been the brooding con-templation of countless hordes of souls going to hell because they did not con-fess Jesus Christ. With the reflective work of modern theology and Vatican Council 1I (rooted incidentally in some very good and very old "natural theology"!), we may still have concern for our neighbor's salvation, but there is also the opportunity for a more enlightened appreciation of the values to be found in the religious traditions of all peoples, and for a more modest assess-ment of the spiritual condition of the non-Christian. This appreciation of the spiritual values of other religion, along with the sense of a Gospel permeated with social values, leaves mission theorists with the task of formulating new attitudes towards the mission apostolate. In fact, this qualifying of the sense of missionary urgency has led to a growing spiritual crisis for many church people, most especially those in an active mission apostolate. Toward a Missionary Spirituality The approach to prayer that I hav~ chosen to discuss here is one that might help the follower of Christ to find "seeds of the word" and a means of salva-tion in the religions of non-Christians or in elements of tribal spirituality not explicitly Christian. At the same time, however, it seems to me a nullification of the Christian vocation to deny or to bypass the person of Jesus Christ, taken both historically and in the Pauline cosmic dimension, as the fullness of divine grace intended to be the Father's greatest gift to humanity. 1 do not say this as a scriptural or dogmatic fundamentalist: the praying Christian should also be an inquirer into the more sophisticated areas of comparative religion and scripture scholarship. Still, whatever level of hermeneutics we may under-take, the New Testament constantly reminds us that courteous dialogue with non-Christians is only part of our calling. The prayerful realization of what Christ means in my life can do no less than move me to tell my dialogue Missionary Player and the Problem of Inculturation / 329 partner how utterly central Christ is for me. What the other does with his ex-perience of my witness is a matter of his personal decision, always to be respected. But that person should know that my life of prayer has shone out through my personal testimony and conduct. Juan Luis Segundo has proposed a helpful approach to the centrality of Christ and tile witness of the Church. He reminds us that the principle "no salvation outside the Church" should not be taken as a matter of church boundaries but rather that it deals with the mediatory role of the Church.8 Segundo calls the Churcha reality at once particular (pertaining to cultural realities), since it is a historical movement serving as a sacrament, and univer-sal, since it serves as a medium of salvation: "It is the expression of the mystery of Christ himself.''9 In Christ the missionary preaches God's love to people, and if he feels unable to broadcast the triumphalistic boast that no one outside the Church will be saved, he is still conscious of the unique gift of Christ. Segundo calls the Christian "one who knows"-- knows Christ as the beginning of the Father's plan that moves into the future and permeates all of time. The Christian is not the only one to enter into this plan, but he is the one who knows it through Revelation.'° This is anything but a revival of primitive gnosticism; it is rather a consciousness (grounded in prayer) of the gift of sav-ing knowledge and the acceptance of a calling found through hearing the Word of God. Such a "knowledge" given.to the Christian is the content as well as the experience of conversion, a living faith that Lonergan calls an "other-worldly falling in love."" What the Christian knows then becomes the driving force for the labor of proclamation. It is, for one thing, a deeply biblical spirituality, for our encounter with the Word of God in Scripture and preaching is our summons to mission. However, I have chosen here to offer a more particular approach or method based on resources within my own Jesuit order, hoping that these resources will serve others in developing a mission-centered prayer life. Recent documents of the Society of Jesus remind us that the Jesuit's self-knowledge is found in the sense of being a sinner who is nonetheless called to be a companion of Jesus.'2 We redeemed sinners are by vocation a "com-munity of dispersion," ready to be sent on mission." The basic dynamic of this vocation, paralleling similar resources in other communities, is the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius o( Loyola, which, made, serve to mediate the gospel-conversion-mission experience. Examining the experience of conversion and mission, we immediately con- 8 Juan Luis Segundo, S.J., Tr. John Drury, A Theology For Artisans of a New Humanity (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1973), Vol. I, p. 76. 9 Ibid., p. 78. ,o Ibid., p. 13. " Lbnergan, Op. Cit., p. 240, ,2 See Documents of The 31st and 32rid General Con.gregations of the Society o f Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977), p. 401. ,3 Ibid., p. 405. 330 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 front the problem/mystery of Christ and culture, of the universal sway and dominion of the Risen Christ .and the particular authenticity of cultural values. Indeed, the Exercises are themselves a partictilar cultural phenomenon within which the Christian faith is rekindled and nourished, and which have proved themselves to contain certain universal values. One who truly receives the liberating love of God in the Exercises comes in touch with the sovereign God in a discovery so powerfully expressed by Karl Barth: The love of God stands where there is disclosed, beyond and above and in the twofold negation, the preeminent affirmation--Jesus Christ, the .Resurrection and the Life~ Blessed discovery! God stands in light inaccessible. Blessed discovery! All flesh is as grass and all the glory of men is as the flower of the field. When, in spirit and truth, one of these discoveries is made, the other is involved in it, for both are in fact operations of the One God, whose universal majesty is the "Yes" in the"No.'"' The gift of a knowledge0of the love of God is so moving and powerful (perhaps in a very quiet way), that it is no wonder that enemies of the lgnatian Exercises have called them a brainwashing. The radical freedom of Christian conversion, as Barth so stirringly tells it above, calls us into a permanent state of tension. This tension is made up of what, to borrow from a number of spiritual writers, we might call "moments" of the Exercises--the two moments of conversion and of mission, I call them moments in the sense that they are kairoi, transcendent of any chronological order; they are experienced in an interweaving rather than in succession, and not merely in time of retreat but in the insertion into comrhunity and ministry. In the Exercises, the first truth one comes to grips with is God's sovereign-ty over one's life and destiny. One has to wrestle with and deeply assent to the fact that we are created to praise, reverence:and serve God, and thus come to salvation. I use the word "wrestle" here because the ascesis of,the Exercises contains much wrestling (though in the end we seethe folly of all this muscle!); no human being readily surrenders his or her own sovereignty andautonomy to anyone, even to God. Nor should they readily surrender. We are persons gifted with dignity, and until we realize that this dignity can be brought to final perfection in God alone, through obedience rather than abject slavery (an important reflection in ministry to the oppressed), we should not sur-render our autonomy. Yet we finally do have to surrender to God as Chris-tians, having,wrestled with him and been so wounded that we manifest in our very steps, as Jacob did, the divine-human struggle that eventuates in our ob-taining his blessing. Then the believer, too, becomes an Israel who realizes that all this effort was part of a foolish bout with God's love. I wish to return to this matter of conversion later, for it is the genuine source of crisis (under-stand "decision") in the missionary's grasp'of problems of culture and social justice. Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, tr. Edwyn Hoskyas (London: Oxford University Press, 1965), p. 321. Missionary Prayer and the Problem of lnculturation / 331 Once the Christian has yielded to divine sovereignty (or arrived at a stage of acceptance, for the faith-choice that expresses this yielding occurs many times in "becoming a Christian"), he has again accepted the reality of his own sinfulness--the disobedience, the recalcitrance, the anger at God's insistence on submission. There goes with this an even more difficult acceptance of divine love, for within our sinfulness we find an inability to let ourselves be loved, and even glory in perversely thinking about God's "No" to us and fear His "Yes." With the opening to grace we rejoice in that essential Christian ex-perience of acceptance of self as loved by God. The loving power of Christ is the "tree of life" that nourishes our circle of existence at its very center--a powerful Amerindian image that indicates a wholeness of life based on devo-tion to its source. But the moment of conversion is hardly complete with repentance, or with the return of the prodigal. The once-lost younger son will discover now the meaning of mature membership in his father's household, that it is shared life and companionship, but also involvement in the labor and the suffering. Such a call to deeper filial piety may well bethe sequel to the Prodigal Son parable, in which the erring but more attractive younger son is equalized with the dour older brother who we all quietly tend to scorn. The sin in all of us resists true belonging. Thi~ is why the SpiritualExercises lead the Christian to understand what it is for Christ to be a "King" in our lives, for him to have a loving sovereignty 'rather than by an imperious and aloof barking of orders that avoids deeper ih~,olvement. David Fleming describes the Meditation on the Kingdom of Christ as the placing of oneself into a "mythical situation, or the kind of story-truth of which fairy tales are made."'~ One seeks to know Christ in whatever fashion one may need in ~order to bring home the fact of his lord-ship. The meditation on Christ's kingdom is thus thematic forall contemplation of the life, death and. resurrection of Christ. All the while meditating on the ministry of Jesus, a retreatant prays for the grace to know him more intimately, to love him with grea~er intensity and to follow him more closely. One can begin to attempt this radical Christian prayer, having first meditated on the mystery of the Incarnation, which we shall later take as the basic model for the missionary apostolate. St. Ignatius presents the Incarnation con~ templation as a mental trylStich, representing the Godhead in heaven, humani-ty struggling on earth, and the young woman of Nazareth who assents to the mysterious calling to' archtypically stand for every Christian's response to God. This meditation enters into the second moment, or moment of mission, but first of all it reminds the Christian that the essential grace to be gained from meditating on the life of Christ is "an interior knowledge of the '~ David L. Fleming, SoJo The Spiritual Exercises: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978), p. 65. 332 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 Lord, who for me has become man, that I may more love and follow him.'''6 This "for me" (so dear to St. Ignatius-- as well as to Martin Luther!) is the ex-pression of faith in a God who never remains for himself alone but perpetually gives of himself. It is the expression of the love of a missionary God. As the Christian enters more deeply into the mystery of the Incarnation, he realizes how much of the sinner hangs on, and how the moment of conversion is ever-present. As the Meditation on the Two Standards or Two Leaders-- Christ and Satan- shows us, the threat of fear and pride and exaltation of the false self is never far away. Within the gospel accounts one also contemplates types of persons who experience different degrees of submission to God, and so asks himself in what way this reflection applies personally to one's life. As the dread reality of St. Luke's journey to Jerusalem looms up, the Christian is made to realize, along with St. Matthew's newly appointed head of the Church, the still unconverted :Simon Peter, that each one of us shares in that journey. Somewhere within this period of meditation, St. Ignatius' Three Modes of Humility challenge the follower of Christ with the call not merely to avoid all sin, but to enter into his poverty and humiliation and suffering-~-to share fully in his mission. The Third Week of the Exercises is an entering into the fullest meaning of the passion of Christ, not merely with tears of empathy but with readiness for full association. The apostolic moment of the Exercises is mysteriously present here: one comes to sense the many possible challenges that could in the future demand a personal appropriation of the kenosis of the Son of God. Once again, the Christian may fear Christ and remain_ sitting outside the Garden of Olives, only to fall asleep, to avoid the grim strain of apprehension. Or, the disciple might insist with Peter that he will never betray Jesus, and almost in the same moment deny even being with him. We thus discover that it was a relatively simple matter to love God in a childish way as our understand-ing Father, in contrast to our acceptance of his Son as an intimate friend. Friendship can demand so much, and we fear the maturity that it requires, especially when we find that the Son of God, in his hour of greatest need, calls his disciples "friends." This is the opportunity to pass even more dramatically through the ever-deepening dying of "becoming a Christian," which, as Kierkegaard wrote, is all that we ever do in relation to Christ; we never fully "arrive" in this life. But if the Christian perseveres in prayer, there may come, finally, the gift of identification ~,ith Christ in which the cloak of sinfulness falls away and true companionship is accepted. If the Christian embraces the mystery of the cross (according to his or her own personal vocation), there comes that peace which pervades one's prayer at the. entrance to the sepu!chre. A true Christian is a child of the Resurrection, an heir to the joys of the Ibid., p. 70. Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation / 333 triumphant Christ, and a bearer of that joy. The Christian contemplates and absorbs the spirit of the risen life as the spirit of his own life, and, according to Ignatius, reaches holiness through sharing the joy of the Friend who has defeated death. It should be no surprise that this experience, too, is a conver-sion in the intellectual, moral and religious dimensions of life. We do not easily accept joy in our lives, or the fact that we are created for joy, as C. S. Lewis was astonished to discover. In the face of the grief in the world (and, if we are idealistic missionaries or social activists, our own tenden-cy to take too seriously our personal warfare with all this grief), we find it hard to transform our, solemn frowns into laughter of rejoicing. Perhaps we cannot but think of God as the Ruler of Olympus who becomes jealous of our hubris at thinking we might ever simply be happy. And there is that temptation to sadness in the anticipation of apostolic struggles. So conversion to Christian joy, and the mission to share that joy, are again telescoped into two moments of one experience. St. Ignatius did not leave us simply to contemplate the Resurrection with the first disciples. He has bequeathed to us the Contemplation for Obtaining Divine Love, which is summed up in God's desire to share himself with his friends. There is given here a recapitulation of all good gifts that descend from the Father of Lights in whom there is no shadow, (Jm 1:16-17). We consider all gifts received, and more, we affirm ourselv~es as gifts of God's favor. A joy-filled Christian can thus say: Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my intellect, and all my will--all that 1 have and possess. You gave it to me;to you, Lord, 1 return it. All is yours, dispose of it according to your will. Give me only your love and grace, for this is enough for me." This contemplation also expresses an aspect of the apostolic moment, both in the call to offer one's gifts in the divine Service, and in the vision of God dwelling in and giving life to all creatures. The consideration of the labor of God within all things helps to feel his presence as the very life of the ministry. There is here, too, a profound theodicy that enlightens the missionary about the working of the Holy Spirit in all created reality, where the Word is somehow present before his preaching even begins. It is a great blessing for an aspiring young missionary (or an older one seeking renewal) to be able to sum up his spiritual experience with the vision of all good gifts descending from above--the gifts of justice, goodness, pity and mercy--"as from the sun des-cend the rays, from the fountains the waters." This is ongoing conversion in the highest sense. The Translation of Prayer Into Mission Let us get "practical" about all of this. Where does one go missiologically Ibid., p. 140. 334 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 with the experience of conversion-mission? If I am a redeemed sinner, saved by God from my own self-oppression as well as from the,oppression of false spirits, l am under a mandate t~ p.roclaim that experience to all people. Fur-ther, as Barth has written, we have surrendered our old way of thinkingto the divine "No" and thus ~have been .renewed in a life of grace through His "Yes." To believe that one is saved is the ultimate experience of freedom, and if one has been gifted with a share in God's holiness, he may even sense a call to relinquish homeland and culture in order to announce that freedom to others. Such a state of soul is a great gift and a great mystery; it is also a great problem, and without ongoing intellectual conversion, can leave one open to many deceptions. There is hidden in this experience the danger that the con-verted Christian will interpret some of the chltural trappings of his conversion as essential to conversion itself. In fact, I woul,d venture the guess that much of the zeal to save "savages" has arisen from an uneducated state of mind in x, relation to what one sees as their "unhappy and primitive state." Metanoia in its most profound etymological sense must be part of any missionary prepara-tion and part of an ongoing learning process. Perhaps the most helpful spiritual approach to a missionary openness to foreign experiences is faith in the Incarnation as a continuing contemplation. So St. Ignatius' Meditation on the Incarnation might well serve as the fun-damental reflection of the apostolic moment of the Exercises.lncarnational theology has, of course, been thematic in the thought of theologians and in Church documents since Vatican Council II. Its frame of reference is the historical context of gospel proclamation, which stresses the service of Christ and his Church to .the temporal order, and the hope this service offers to humanity for a more truly di~,ine-human life. A healthy incarnationalism is also eschatoiogical, and in its optimism does not forget the reality of sin. It realizes that God's becoming human does not empty him of his transcendence but rather gifts humanity with a share in that transcendence. In simple w~ords, the Incarnation has its total fulfillment outside history and awaits the kingdom of God in faith even as it expresses its presence already. In. the con-rex: of missiology, incarnational theology proclaims the en-flesh-ment of God within cultures, and challenges all cultures to reach beyond themselves. Ignatius Loyola was a man of great sensitivity to the ways in which the Gospel is to be received humanly, as his instruction for the use of the senses in prayer attests. The Contemplation on the Incarnation is an experience of the divine entering history, of the Good News transforming human cultures and confronting the evils that threaten what is truly of God's creation in them. ln-culturation does pose a tension, if not even a dilemma, for the Christian, as I have already indicated. The zealous missionary who is filled with a desire to show Christ's love to the world iS a person who has acquired the gift of detach-ment from a familiar environment, though perhaps not to the degree he may think he has acquired it. Even the most dedicated Christian carries his or her native culture along as mental and affective baggage, and tends to extend that Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation / 335 culture, along with the Gospel, to other peoples. To offer the good things of one's own culture to others is a natural and authentic aspiration, if one is aware that these things are not coextensive with the Good News of Christ. This awareness can come only from a deep study'of the culture and from a "participation" in it to whatever degree is compatible with Christianity. Another factor of great importance is the relationship the Christian, has towards the people to whom he is missioned,. There is a danger that one will project one's own degree of commitment into these people, and thus expect of them too soon that same kind of response. Likewise, to compare one's own "surrender" or submission to God, acquired with the help of many cultural blessings and advantages, to the enslavement of oppressed peoples and its concomitant apathy or resistance, is of course a tragic confusion of entirely different experiences. Worse yet, one might even miss the signs of a people's dedication simply out of a failure to comprehend their ways of expressing it. However, meditation on the Incarnation, if we supplement it with proper cultural training, inserts us into the saving love°of the Godhead as well as into the infinite patience and empathy of Jesus Christ, who met people "where they were," living with them in their struggles and calling them to converison. Christ never destroyed or shattered a person's life, however great a shock he may have dealt, but rather uplifted and sanctified the life of every person. In the Contemplat!on on the Incarnation, St. Ignatius in. structs the retreat-ant to "see" the various persons in the eye of the imagination: "those on the surface of the earth, in such variety in dress and in actions; some white and others black; some in peace and others in war; some weeping and others laughing; some well, others ill; some being born,, and others dying . ,,,8 One is to continue by imagining how so many live in blindness, how they swear and blaspheme, how th6y kfli and go down to hell. And in the same mental exer-cise, we are shown how Father, Son and Holy Spirit conspire to work out the salvation of the suffering human race, and how the messenger Gabriel goes to speak to the Virgin of Nazareth. Whatever Ignatius had in mind as he described the misery of our race (in his own cultural terms!), and however we may have evolved in our attitudes about,how many benighted pagans are going into damnation, a sensitive response to his vision of a suffering humanity draws one deeply into a sharing of the human condition. The point here is that human beings have always injured and oppressed one another in various ways; but the much stronger aspect of this truth(See St. Paul'spollo mallon in Romans 5.) is that all types and cultures, all races and .nationalities, enter into the divine compassionate vision and its willto save and transform. Those who are to be saved will be saved as black or white or red or yellow, whether they wear three-piece-suits or loincloths or nothing at a!l, whether their music is rendered by pipe organs or jazz bands or ancient drums. We do not really know what God has in mind to Ibid., p. 72. 336 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 do with diversity in the kingdom of heaven; we do know that he has a total disregard for differences as far as the equal dispensation of his kindness is concerned. Thus a meditation on the Incarnation, if carried through with full involve-ment, takes a missionary into the midst of the culture he serves. It prods him to study anthropology and sociology and comparative religion, both in books and in lived exp~erience, as well as to do all that is necessary tomake him atten-tive, intelligeni, reasonable and responsible. It serves as the affective nourish-ment of all the intellectual and procedural efforts one may bring to work in a foreign culture. It would seem, therefore, that a missioner's own prayer life would change, to some degree, along cultural lines: An openness and sensi-tivity to the people will lead to a sharing of indigenous forms of prayer and worship. No matter how hard 1 may try, I will never become a Native American or South African black or campesino, especially if the culture I serve has a history of deep Wounds inflicted by the very society and church I represent. This should in fact be an initial experience of inculturation--to realize that onb is a foreigner or guest, or better, a pilgrim, and that one naturally resists becoming part of a new culture, especially in its startling and strange aspects. But still, we ~can take on many qualities of our environment, and should do so if they insert us better into the life of the people and help us to grow personally. Generally, the first experience of mission life for the outsider is one of conflict. This is emphatically true of all who enter into work among societies suffering from powerful structures and histories of persecution or cultural invasion. To become part of a wounded culture is to absorb inevitably the feel-ings of frustration, anger and despair; to experience the "diminishment" that occurs within as one responds again and again to expressions of these negative feelings. There may also be a deep dissatisfaction with oneself over the failure to remain tranquil and "understanding" in the face of such assaults. The mis-sionary must then turn, in a way perhaps never before experienced, but anticipated in earlier prayer, to the reality of a suffering and dying Savior, who himself knew pain and rejection and the feeling of being an outsider. When'the Word pitched his tent among us, he certainly had to live as an alien in our midst, with disciples who failed to understand, with authorities who re-jected him, with hangers-on who melted away in the face of conflict. The mis-sionary can be helped spiritually, through intellectual resources and the study of the history of injustice or persecution in the area of hi~ activity. For exam-ple," in studying the near genocide of a number of ti'ibal cultures at the hands of invaders who made these people aliens in their own lands, the missionary can learn to approprihte the sense of weakness often felt by Christ himself in the face of the burdens of history. However, even in a badly wounded culture, one can experience gifts in greater number. Among many of the more traditional, or "primal," societies Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation / 337 of Africa or Asia or the Americas, can be found spiritual attitudes remarkably resonant with the Christian experience: creative suffering, prayer, contempla-t! on, worship forms, acceptance of death, ascetical practices. One can learn to appreciate the reverence of the people, the sense of appreciation for nature, the deep respect for spiritual realities. It is possible to learn to enjoy the music, the dance, the language, the good times, as they occur in a natural cycle of tribal events. Perhaps the missioner will even find in the new culture (not because he hates his own but because he loves it too) a new"sacred space" in which to be at home. As this occurs, one finds oneself both proclaiming and experiencing conversion. Missionary prayer is then truly coming to birth according to the mystery of the Incarnation. To sum up, then, Christian conversion is not a narrowing experience. While it focuses our gaze upon Christ as the Father's unique expression of love, it also constantly opens our horizons and leads us to greater social and cultural understanding. But the conversion process must be a composite of in-tellectual, moral and religious growth. Prayer alone will not achieve this, but without prayer the missionary is merely another cultural invader. A strongly incarnational prayer reminds one constantly that in Christ the Father has reconciled the divine and the human, and that we can indeed preach a transcendent faith that finds roots in local cultures. "When Did We See You?" Donald Macdonald, ,S. M.M. Fr. Ma~cdonald, master 6f novices for the Montfort Fathers, is stationed at the house of Maria Bhavan; D.R. College P.O.; Bangalore 560029; India. ~ watched a group of sisters, out walking, slowly pass a row of hovels. Out-side one of them, a little girl was squatting, cutting wood. Seeing the sisters approach, she put down her knife, joined her hands in the Indian way of greeting, and gave them a lovely smile. The sisters (presumably) never saw her. Three other sisters were walking some five or six yards further back, and I thought that perhaps one of them would have seen what happened, and so stop for a moment to make a fuss over the child. They, too, walked past. I still see the quizzical look on the child's face. Clearly, mistakes are easily made. It is also unfair and invalid to draw a general conclusion from a particular instance. But from years spent in pastoral ministry, not least with religious, I suggest that there may be more in that incident than many of us would care to see. Such insensitivity may be the rule rather than the exception. Those sisters may be like that even with each other. They just do not see. This same lack of insight may be a consistent feature of their everyday world: They may never really live in the present moment, and so miss so much of what is happening about them. If the mature person is "one whose center of gravity is where he actually is," it may explain the immaturity of some religious lives." What is needed is the ability to be both part of, and apart from, the present moment, to give oneself wholly in the present as an expression of a mature Christian faith. So much of religious life, especially as one gets older, can be so unsatisfactory for so many, because they are never really "alive." Any one, for example, who has ever been in the company of the present Holy Father, might judge that he is in fact a great parish priest of the time when such men 338 "'When Did We See You?" really knew their people. He is always aware of what is happening. Though he may be unable to speak to everyone individually, yet he neglects no one, regardless of how many are about him. What steps, therefore, can the religious take to try to become fully alive to the present as an expression of a mature Christian faith? Listen Like a Disciple Once upon a time, most religious began the day with a "morning offering." I suggest that this once-common custom should be revived to help give a precise focus to our day. A line adapted from Is 50:4 makes an ideal morning prayer: O Lord, give me a disciple's tongue. So that 1 may know how to reply to the weary, provide me with speech. Each morning, wake me to hea~, to listen like a disciple. We should pray that we may speak only what we have learned of God--a disciple's tongue. We beg that we may never ignore the weary, and so have something to say ~to the child, the~neglect of whom began these reflections. Ideally, we want to be able to answer the questions people dare not ask. We want to offer not just sympathy but empathy,, the ability to feel for and with these persons of our world. We must have time for those that n'o one else has time for. So important is this approach to the present moment, that we should ask God to wake us each morning to hear. But, more than that, we should ~vant to listen like a disciple. In whatever circumstances we are placed, we want to be aware of all that is happening, to assimilate our experience. The whole world is sacrament. Thus we are eager to listen like a disciple, to try and catch every, nuance and inflection of the world in which we live. Most of us share a com-mon degree of hearing and vision. What separates us one from another is insight, or the ability to respond to the unspoken word or gesture. Our prayer, therefore, should be that God would give us the sensitivity to be fully alive in our global village. Our center of gravity is ~vhere we actually are. A day begun with ~suCh a reflective prayer to God can ~urely help give definition to our approach to the present. If our minds progressively assimilate the assumptions underlying the prayer, experience, in whatever form it comes, will be integrated into our lives in God. Through Love in His Presence The religious may further deepen that basic insight, by attempting to share the grasp of reality found in the superb opening prayer of the letter to the Ephesians. There Paul's present situation is prison. The future prospects, in his estimate, probably included death by execut~ion.The past, an apostolic life of mixed fortunes, was evidently drawing to a close. In such circumstances :340 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 notice the approach of a mature Christian faith, and the astonishing balance given by such a center of gravity: "Blessed be God the Fathe~ of Our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with all the spiritual blessings of heaven in Christ" (Ep 1:3). There, the first move is to God. And what a God--"the Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ," who has given us everything. This, from a man in prison, towards the end of his life; no self-pity, nor justified disappointment, nor even the pretence of whistling in the cemetery to pretend he is not scared. His perspective is anchored in "God the Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ." Whata marvelously expansive opening to a prayer from a man shut in, and about to lose his career and his life. Then his faith, grasping reality,, takes him almost beyond the limits of imagination to the point of saying: "before the world was made he chose us, chose us in Christ" (Ep 1:4). The sense of awe and wonder is evident as it dawns on him, "the very least of all the saints" (Ep 3:8), that these moments of life have been given him by God. The immediate present is received as a gift from God in Christ offered before even the world was made. How does one quantify love on a scale like that? From this perspective, the present moment is an expression of the depth of the love of God for us that is quite literally beyond computation. One just receives and adores. To the extent that I can share this outlook, I allow God to love me in the present moment. Receiving life as so charged with the love of God, 1, too, deepen my capacity to love. I do not know when I first knew God, but from "before the world was made" God knew and loved me. The present moment is the focus of such love, where I "live through love in his presence" (Ep 1:4). This, l suggest, can be the center of gravity of a mature Christian faith. His Spirit Living in You Following Saint Paul, the religious can go still deeper into the present moment. "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you?" (l Co 3:16). Individually or collectively, God is present among us in the only way that is real to us--through knowledge and love. Anything else is superficial. The point is given added emphasis when we remember that the word translaied "temple" i~s no(our word for Church, b~t rather, "tabernacle." "God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us" (Rm 5:5). Religious, aware of God so present to them and in them, could only respond in wonder and awe. Their very personality would reflect adoration. "Your body, you .know, is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you since you received him from God" (l Co 6:19). If the religious truly listened like a disciple to words like that, the love of God, found in the present moment, would take them to !he heights, and give them "the strength to grasp the breadth and the length, the height and the depth, until knowing the love of Christ which is beyond all knowledge, ~you are filled with the utter fullness of God" (Ep 3:19). "When Did We See You?" / 341 For the Praise of His Glory Despite possible appearances to the contrary, the above approach to reality, stemming from an understanding of baptism, is simplicity itself. It has to be if it is to center on the present moment. Here the religious is never in the position of the harassed motorist driving at night, and trying to cope with all the signals he is receiving at a busy road junction. Nor is it an artificial con-struct pieced together from a possibly outdated literary-form. Quite simply the religious is aware that he is loved by God. He has always been present to God. Life is God's gift to him, moment by moment. In responding to life so given, all that is deepest in him echoes awe, adoration and love. Thus does he begin to sound the depths of "the unfathomablk riches of Christ" (Ep 3:8). Aware of the presence of God within him, he believes that with that gift he has received everything (see Rm 8:32). As the reality of this dawns on him, the love of Christ overwhelms him, as he begins to see that "for anyone who is in Christ, there is a new creation" (2 Co 5:14,17). His center of gravity is moving gradually from self to Christ. Inescapably, and often at a level beyond words, his faith expresses itself in love, adoration, gratitude. In time, as he continues to allow God to 10ve him,his "life is hidden with Christ in God" (Col 2:3), so that, however imperfectly, he realizes, as a baptized Christian, "I live now not with my own life but with the life of Christ who lives in me" (Ga 2:20). Thus he tries to allow God full play in his life. As many religious know, such an approach to the present moment comes to be as natural as breathing. It is the normal, prosaic everyday basis of his life. It is the common coin he uses moment by moment. Living therefore in Christ in a sacramenthl world, one lives in the presence of God, not at some degree removed from him, as though he were a spectator. The smile and greeting of the child which provoked these reflections, can be seen as an expression of the love of God. Her puzzlement as she was ignored was surely an echo of the rejection of the love of God. The insensitivity of the religious presented a glimpse of Christ handicapped, unable to express his love for the child in that instance (see Ph 3:18). Attempting to listen like a disciple to what God might be saying in an incident that was over in seconds, one realizes all too well that, in addition to the above, there may be other inferences. Lord, in the child and the religious do I see you and me? Do I see your love always expressing itself in the most unlikely situations--and my response? Again, is that how I am to the people who come into my life? This reflection does not depersonalize the child, nor take from her her integrity as a human being. She is not a cipher. But viewed from the stand-point of Christian baptism, which is the basis and point of religious life, it is surely not illegitimate for us to deepen the realiz~ation that we are loved by God, that, as a result, we must "owe no one anything, except to love one another" (Rm 13:8). We are in debt, therefore, to everyone we meet, as we can never adequately repay love. There is perhaps no more exacting test of the authenticity of one's faith. The Threat and,the Thrill of Dominion Labour# Beneviile, S.C.C. Sister Labour~ teaches at Delone Catholic High School; S. Oxford Ave.; McSherrystown, PA 17344 Let us m~ike man in our image, after our likeness. Let him have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and the cattle, and over all the wild animals and all the creatures that crawl on the ground (Gn 1:26). In the light of the Genesis account, we know ourselves to be the hallmark of the creative power of God who transformed the darkness over the a~yss; the God who shaped the formless waste which was the earth; the God who made light to dispel the darkness; the God whose touch brought forth vegetation and seeds of every kind. Custodians of creation, we are challenged to find joy and fulf!llment in this awesome burden of nurturing the universe. To do so, however, we must discern the subtleties of our behaviorand try to strip away any repressive thought patterns which distort our presence to reality. By un-consciously excluding that which is painful, fearful, or even sublime, repres-sion is the ego's means of scaling down life-- that is, of reducing ffc~th terror and ecstasy to something within our control. From infancy on, we have been schooled to block out that which either threatens or diminishes our own stature; thus anxiety is minimized and we are able to move through life with a kind of equilibrium. 'Capstones of God's creative power, we are marked by an ambivalence which suffers from the pain of finitude as well as from the glorious burden of mirroring Infinitude. We live simultaneously on the brink of obliyion and the brink of infinity. Because the possibility of both destruction and transcendence are threatening, we too readily settle for the protection which illusion offers. But truth and ultimate fulfillment demand that we live face to face with the realization that the universe is teeming with wonder and danger 342 The Threat and Thrill of Dominion / 343 of colossal proportion; and we cannot let our consciousness of this inure us to the utter magnificence of that which has been entrusted to us. Instead of deflecting the wondrous mysteries of the world, we must so sensitize ourselves to our task and privilege that the fullness of God's glorious creation opens up before us, and thus we can revel in the inestimable joy to which we are heirs. ". mountainsand hills shall break out in song before you, and all the trees of the countryside shall clap their hands" (Is 55:12). The innate fear by which we resist the greatness to which we are called-- a Jonah complex according to psychologists--prompts us to entrench ourselves in mediocrity, security and conformity rather than bear the risk of the superlative. In the depth of our souls we glimpse our godlike possibilities, but quiver at the thought of having our potentials actualized. Intensity hurts. Pain--albeit a "nice" pain--is the counterpart of intense living. "We are only the earthenware jars which'hold this treasure to make it clear that such an overwhelming power comes from God" (2 Co 4:7). Our spiritual and.emo-tional yearning often seems to exceed our human capacity to withstand. Repression of the sublime is the defense which enables us to maintain our balance in a universe which would sweep.us off our feet if we were totally sen-sitive to it. Ecstatic moments, for instance, are too charged to be endured for long. Because we lack the strength to bear the miraculousness and force of life at its fullest, we cut back to an idle; we moderate the degree to which we will let ourselves experience the grandeur of it all. Closing ourselves off to the possibility of unlimited greatnessthus enables us to remain intact, untouched in the face of an overwhelmingness which might otherwise be devastating. In Thornton Wilder's Our Town, Emily perceives the truth of life only after she returns from the grave: "Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize while they live it--every, every minute?" The stage manager answers: "The saints and poets, maybe--they do some." Just as the fear of greatness keeps us walled up, so does the fear of little-ness. In contrast to the rest of creation, we are at best miniscule, and that's ter-rifying. Man, the self-aware capstone of creation, is, in fact, insignificant. Our fragile position in a mighty world began with our helpless condition at birth. Despite unconscious efforts of denial, none of us can ever quite forget the fact that we were once dirty-faced, cry-baby kids who needed another even to change our diapers. As a species we may have been given dominion, but as individuals our personal histories are at best embarrassing. Unlike animals, we are endowed with a self-awareness which makes the truth of our fragility even more terrifying. "It means to know that one is food for worms., to have emerged from nothing, to have a name, consciousness of self, deep inner feel-ings, an excruciating inner yearning for life and self-expression-- and with all this yet to die.''t Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death (New York, 1973), p. 87. :344 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 Paradoxically, it's this very terror of our own nothingness which has generated such self-assumed authority, such egoism. The instinct for self-worth and self-preservation has sparked the fantasies and repression which delude us about our true condition. Unable to cope with the reality of our littleness, we have let our egos construct vast networks of illusions by which we assert and argue our own value. Without these lies to feed off, life would be nightmarish. The rose-colored vision which repression insures protects us from the omnipresent bogeyman whose terrors would disarm us: if we ever dropped the mask of importance. According to Kierkegaard, the lies perpetrated by the ego are: the most natural ,defense against the anxieties of life. Dread would be overwhelming without the escape hatch which repression offers. Fantasizing about one's role or place in the cosmos is a comforting ex-ercise by which the emerging person obscures the truth which lies at the root of the human condition. The egoism which dominates us doesn't ring of pride as much asit does of escapism. It's weak man's instinctual defense against his smallness; against . total negation in an apparently capricious and topsy-turvy universe. Let's face it, over and above the natural disasters which threaten us, the evils We heap on one another are staggering: the haunting memory of six million Jews exter-minated; the wake of Three Mile Island and the threat of nuclear extinction; four hundred thousand boat people drowned; incessant wars and rebellions which decimate the hopes of nations. Rather than live vis-a-vis our fragile position, we prefer, in fact, to pull the wool over our own eyes. The crux of our failure to resonate with the challenge of dominion, then, is two-edged: a fear of greatness and a fear of littleness. Repression serves to protect us from a double apprehension about the latent power which might be unleashed in us, as well as from a sense of feebleness in the face of a vast universe. By blocking out any mystery or terror which dwarfs our stature, we live comfortably with the illusion of control. Repression makes the dark so cozy that we forget our need for the light. The price of this illusion, though, seems to be a lobotomy of the soul. We have anesthetized our spirits as a means of maintaining our balance. Undoubtedly, to have been made in the image of the Creator and subsequently entrusted with undisputed authority is a fearful heritage. If we are to attain our true stature, however, we must be persons who accept their creaturehood and are brave enough to live without the facade of power or righteousness or control. We will enjoy the thrill of dominion and minimize its threats only to the degree we can live with our own vulnerability--that is, to the degree we can shed the protective armor which has shielded us from so much of life. Thus psychology and religion merge as we relinquish the security blanket of egoism, which has so falsified our percep-tions, and posit our faith in the God who created us. The formula for such faith is basically simple: "One is a creature who can do nothing, but one exists over against a living God for whom 'everything is The Threat and Thrill of Dominion / :345 possible.' -2 The Scriptures clearly delineate the nature of this call to faith: faith in a God who has told us every hair on our head is numbered; faith in a God who knows when every sparrow falls to the ground; faith in a God who feeds the birds of the air and clothes the grass of the field with splendor; faith in a God who has said,. "No one who comes to me shall ever hunger and no one who believes in me shall ever thirst" (Jn 6:35); faith in a God who himself conquered death through resurrection. Such faith is the death knell to all the claims which the ego has so jealously guarded. Instead of making our own arrogant assertions the touchstone, our fundamental identity with Ultimate Power gives us our significance. Creaturehood is no longer a liability--rather, it's a hotline to the Creator. The very One who has called us into existence and given us authority stands behind us and before us. The secret fears which once eroded our joy and op-timism are dissipated the moment we see creatureliness as our claim to the Creator. Similarly, the inner yearning to proclaim ourselves and to experience the something more of life takes on new meaning as we accept our role as capstones of God's creative power. Our identity lies in imaging the Father and in nurturing that which his loving touch has brought forth. No longer is our personal worth determined by social and cultural norms; on the contrary, our individual worth is affirmed by our link with the transcendent God who created us and gave us dominion. Love has shared Itself. We have been made in his image. "Before you were born, 1 called you by name," The mystery at the heart of each of us makes sense and finds fulfillment only in relation to the Mystery at the heart of creation. ~ Becker, p. 90. Towards Mutuality in Ministry Sally Kenel, D. W. Sister Sally serves in the pastoral ministry of St. Mary, Gate of Heaven Parish. She resides at 85-28 Forest Parkway; Woodhaven, NY 11421. Which do you identify with more? A typewriter or a piece of paper? Santa's bag or a Christmas stocking? ~ These either/or questions attempt to indicate a basic tension that exists in identifying oneself as either a "giver" or a "receiver." We religious engaged in ministry probably tend toward the giver option. It is true that mfnistry requires service, but a forced choice between giver and receiver can set up a dualistic I-as-opposed-to-you dynamic. This dynamic, in turn, can be d block to the growth of the minister. Much of our training in religious life has reinforced the notion that "it is more blessed to give than to receive.'" Evidence of our working out of this framework can be found in such everyday responses to people as, "What can 1 do for you?" Immediately, the giver/receiver dualism is established. It is my contention that it is blessed to give and to receive; that the clear cut distinction between giver and receiver does not exist in reality; that there can be, indeed must be, mutuality in ministerial relationships. Since this belief was brought home to me in my ministry with the elderly, reflection on this concrete experience is what will give shape to much of this article. However, mutuality in ministerial relationships can exist between people of different ages, backgrounds, sexes, and so forth. In fact, all our relationships offer the possibility of blurring the lines that separate us, plunging us into that unity of all things in Christ. At first cons'ideration, the elderly may seem an. unlikely group to demonstrate that mutuality in ministry is possible. Often, our culture tends to focus only on the losses and depreciation of old age. Economically, in terms of the relationship Of expenditure to production, the aged person is viewed as Acts 20:35 346 Towards Mutuality in Ministry / 347 a liability. From the viewpoint of the dominant values of medicine, the process of human aging is considered to be totally negative. Moreover, the experiences of many people attest to the losses of aging: loss of income, loss of role, loss of status, loss of affection, loss of competency, loss of power-- to name a few.2 .Certainly, the elderly seem to be a group with serious needs, and meeting these needs can become an all encompassing task. However, to look only at the negative aspects of aging and to focus solely on the needs of the aged, starts us ministers on the road to that dualistic l-as-opposed- tozyou mentality. If mutuality is to be a possibility, we must get beyond the needs to the person. As we meet the person, it is my experience that we will find that revelation continues to take place, that we can receive. "What we like best about your visits, Sally, is that they help us to remember." This comment of one of our parishioners personalized what Becker describes as the special function of the pastoral minister, that is . to "bring up to date," so to speak, the treasury of accepting relationships in the life of the older person. The personal relationships which the pastor activates in the contem-porary history of the elderly will help them to "remember" (anamnesis) the past mercies of God, the past loving, unconditional acceptance of family, friends and members of the household of faith (hopefully)? ~ Becker goes on to indicate that this remembering is biblical in nature. It takes on the import that it has in the Scriptures especially in the Old Testament where "remembering was understood not merely in the sense of recall, but in the sense of reliving, reactualizing by recollection.'" Thus, in listening to the story of a~person's life, often we hear an individualized, unique version of salvation history; a testimony tothe action of God i'n the life of that person. ~ Nouwen says that the "great vocation of the minister is to continuously make connections between the human story and the divine story.''~ Several of the elderly people with whom I have had contact have made,these connections themselves during the course of their lives. From them 1 have learned much about their individual lives, much about the mystery of life, and much about the God who informs all our lives. From them, too, I have learned much about m~own humanity and my identity as a religious. That I would learn about the htiman condition 'from the elderly did not surprise me; in fact, 1 expected to learn from those who had experienced so much more of life~ However, 1 was unprepared for the fact that the lives of the elderly would have so much to say about religious,life, Yet, aging thrusts a person into new relationships with poverty, 10helines~ and oppression, the very conditions to which the vows speak. Thus,. 1 found that the elderly stand with us religious in witnessing to 2 Evelyn E. Whitehead, "Religious Images of Aging", in Aging and the Elderly, Spicker et al., eds., p. 37. ~ ~ Arthur H. Becker, "Judgment~and Grace in the Aging Process", Pastoral Psychology, XXVII (Spring 1979), p. 188. ' Ibid., p. 188. ~ Henri J. M. Nouwen, The Living Reminder (New York: Seabury Press, 1977), p. 24. 3411 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 common values. Let us explore this a little more deeply. According to Johannes Metz: Poverty as an evangelical virtue is a protest against the tyranny of having, of possessing and of pure self-assertion. It impels those practicing it into practical solidarity with those poor whose poverty is not a matter of virtue, bui is their condition of life and the situa-tion exacted of them by society.6 Actually, many middle-class people are impelled into practical solidarity with the poor by old age. Living on a fixed income in our inflation-ridden society does not allow some elderly people even modest comforts. For these, poverty is a new experience which can either be creative or devastating. It is creative for those who, during the course of their lives, have realized that the quality of a person's life is not determined by possessions or achievements. On the other hand, if a person's life has been completely caught up in amassing more money and possessions, the poverty that old age brings will be devastating. Those who deal with their new poverty in a creative way have much to say to those of us who accept poverty willingly. These people demonstrate how poverty can open the heart to surprise, wonder and delight in the simple things of life. Consider, eighty-nine-year-old Bernie whose eyes sparkled as she showed me a jar of grape jelly, the gift of her granddaughter. The jar of jelly represented much more than a welcome addition to her diet; it told her that she was loved and remembered. To Bernie, it was a confirmation of the goodness of people, and ultimately, the goodness of God. Faced with this sincere gratitude for such a little thing, I find myself becoming more'and more aware of the many gifts I have been given. Material possessions fade in mean-ing next to such gifts as good health, friends, and joy in living. It is with people such as Bernie that we religious can grow "to recognize, even celebrate, a deeper truth-- that no one ever earns his way, that life's meaning is more a gift than a reward.'" However, while appre~:iating the qualities such as gratitude which the elderly manifest, we must not lose sight of the poverty in which' they are rooted. This poverty is real. It is the kind of poverty that makes three meals a day a luxury and has the elderly counting out their last bit of change in the supermarket. It is the kind of poverty that keeps the house cold all winter long because utility costs are skyrocketing. It is the kind of poverty that isolates because traveling is impossible and a telephone is beyond their means. In short, it is the kind of poverty that invades one's very being; If we allow ourselves to see poor people like these, to meet them and to be touched by them, 1 believe that we religious will be challenged. What the outcome will be in terms of living out poverty will be up to each of us. But the elderly will have ministered to us, repeating the words of Christ: "There is one thing more you must do. Go and sell what you have and give to the poor; yow will have 6 Johannes B. Metz, Followers of Christ (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 49. ' Whitehead, op. cir., p. 45. ~ Towards Mutuality in Ministry treasure in heaven. After that, come and follow me.''8 Metz goes on to define celibacy:. . celibacy as an evangelical virtue is the expression of an insatiable longing for the day of the Lord. it impels toward solidarity with those unmarried people whosecelibacy (that is to say loneliness; that is to say not having anyone) is not a virtue but their social destiny, and towards those who are shut up in lack of expectation and in resignation.9 ~' Along with poverty, old age often brings a new form of loneliness. Distance from family and friends becomes a foe too formidable for the decreasing energy of the elderly to overcome. Opportunities for making new friends are often more severely limited than before. Ultimately, death itself provides the final separation. With the realization that much more of one's life lies in the past than in the future, loneliness can assume new proportions. Only when they are older do some ~people seem to realize how lonely their lives have been. John, a single adult of seventy-six, admits that now he is fascinated by children. He loves to be with them, to talk with them, to play with them, to watch them. He claims that in his younger days I~e never reflected on what it would mean to "live on" through children. Now, he sees this as a definite lack in his life, a choice that he drifted into rather than con-sciously made. Loneliness has made him a~are of his lack of responsibility for his life and he regrets what might have been. However, his new awareness of the fact that life is meant to be lived with and for others has led him into caring for his older sister who is handicapped. Thus, loneliness for John, has led not to resignation but to service. Our loneliness which results from our celibate way of life can lead to ser-vice also. However, this is different from using ministry to neutralize one's loneliness. Just as John has moved from the experience of loneliness to that of being with and for another, so too, must we religious come in touch with our loneliness in order that we may capture its implications for service. For some people, the lonelines~ of old age is a new experience, one which can make them more vulnerable. Consider eighty-nine year old Bill who, in the nice weather, spends most of his time enjoying the warmth of the sun in front of his house. One day he was approached by a well-dressed man who claimed to be a friend of his son. After some pleasant conversation, Bill in- ViCed him into his home where the man proceeded to rob him. Bill's hurt and outr,age stemmed not so much from the loss of mbney but from the fact that "he came as a friend, but in reality was a crook." Yet, Bill was willing to risk again. He opened his door to me, another stranger, and invited me to share a part of his life. For him, loneliness helped to keep alive the hope that relation-ships are possible. This willingness to risk is an important quality for us religious to cultivate. What is the point oi" celibacy if we surround ourselves with people who protect us from meeting strangers? Our celibacy demands that we also be open to Mark 10:21. Metz, op. cir., p, 60. ~150 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 others in ways that manifest the hope that relationships are possible. Such openness calls for risks, and the elderly who often have been separated from their life-long companions can show us how to take such risks. The loneliness of the elderly, which is accentuated by a new awareness of death, can lead them to greater depths of faith and hope. If the, lives of the elderly tell us that relationships with people are possible, so too do they announce the reality 6f ~ relationship with God. Moreover, this relation.ship with God is not merely limited to the present, but has eternal dimensions as well. The elderly 1 have come in contact with have revealed a variety of ways of relating to the Lord in prayer. For some, recitation of formal prayers like the rosary is very comforting. Others have discovered fgrms of contemplative prayer. One woman, unable to leave her home, said tl~at at first she missed attending church, but then came to the conviction that the whole worldis a cathedral and that God is truly present everywhere. She looks forward to experiencing this presence in a new way after death. For me, her faith~an~d hope serve as a reminder of Jesus' words: "I am the resurrection. If, anyone believes in me, even though he dies he will live, and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.'''° It is in union with people such as these that our "longing for the day of the Lord" takes on corporate dimensions. It is in union with people such as these that we religious can break out of our own "lack of expectation and resigna'- tion." It is in union with people such as these that we religious can penetrate into the true meaning and value of our celibacy. Finally, Metz defines the ex~angelical virtue of obedience as: the radical and uncalculated surrender of one's life to God the Father who raises up and liberates. It impels one to stand close to those for whom obedience is not a matter of virtue, but the sign of oppression and of being placed in tutelage, and to do this in a prac-tical way.'t Growing older changes relationships, and often the elderly find themselves the victimsof oppression. A well-meaning son or daughter becomes convinced that the aged parent cannot live alone, and forces a move either to a relative's home or to a nursing home. An irate landlord, angered by the low rent an elderly person pays, refuses to make needed repairs. Doctors who refuse to make house calls make more frequent hospital stays necessary. The violent who prey uppn frail older persons can turn a routine trip to the bank in.:io a traumatic experience, and cause a person to live locked at home in fear. It is much the way Jesus put it to Peter: "When you were young you put on your own beet and walked where you liked; but when you grow old you will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt around you and take you where you would rather not go.'''2 Recently, I received a phone call from a woman whose children and grand- John I 1:25-26. Metz, op. cit., p. 67. John 21:18. Towards Mutuality in Ministry / 351 children were trying to move her to another state to be with them. "Please, please save me from their clutches." Her cry touched me deeply. Several days later I visited her. The pain of moving, the pain of leaving what had been home for forty-five years, the pain of separating from friends and neighbors, the pain of uncertainty about the future, were all still .there. However, something else was there, too. "They want me to move because they love me, and so I am going," she told me. Love was able to penetrate through her pain and make surrender a positive action. It is from this woman that 1 have learned much about "letting go," a characteristic so necessary for obedience. This attitude does not act as a sedativ~ for the pain that can result from having our desires and plans thwarted. It is not a withdrawal from life, a giving up because we cannot have what we want. Rather, it involves an active acceptance of what is, embracing the pain along with the joy. "Letting go" calls for seeing things in true perspective without the warping that our own fears and prejudices can bring to a situation. When we cannot let go of something it is usually because we wish that it were other than it is. We hold on to a relationship after its vitality is gone, wishing that it could return to its former intimacy. We insist on our way of ministering to others, wishing that their needs matched our own gifts a little more closely. We hold on to our anger and hurts, savoring them, but wishing that we were not so fragile and vulnerable. And yet, the wishing changes nothing. Our former friend moves out of our life. The ways in which we are asked to serve are often not what we would choose. We remain vulnerable people. It is in the difficulties that We experience in "letting go" that we religious are most closely united to those subject to oppression. Neither situation is easily remedied; both requi~e struggle. Yet the struggle itself is not sufficient to achieve liberation. This remains the gift of God. "If the Son makes you free you will be free indeed.'''~ And so, while we continue to struggle, we learn from others that the love which makes surrender possible is available to us. The elderly can teach us that liberation is a real possibility. In conclusion, as I have~ been ministering to the elderly, they in turn have ministered to me in a variety of ways. They have helped to bring about a new awareness and sensitivity in my ministry. I have become more conscious of the mutuality, in relationships, more apprec~ia~ive of the role of others in my life. "Giver" and "receiver" no longer seem like isolated, opposed ways of being. In fact, I understand to a greater degree how "it is in giving that we receive." This understanding helps me to approach others with more'humility and respect. No matter in what ways I minister to others, I am aware that they also are ministering to me. Mutuality in ministerial relationships offers oppor-tunities for growth that few of us, if any, can afford to pass by. John 8:36. Come and See: The "Cottage Program" M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father Pennington's last article, "The Vocation of the 'Vocation Father,' "appeared in the May, 1979 issue. He continues to be "Vocation Father" at St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, MA 01562. The "Cottage Program" is an instrument of our cooperation in the mystery of the genesis of a vocation that I wanted to share with you through these pages. In our times, as it had been in the eleventh or in the fourth century, or in the time of Christ himself, serious-minded young men and women seek a teacher, a guide, a master-- someone who could give a fuller meaning to their lives. Andrew and John had traveled south, taking time off from their work. They had heard tell of a teacher, a prophetic man of God, on the banks of the Jordan, and joined the stream of seekers heading in that direction. They listened, they learned, they understood--perhaps more deeply than most, because, when the teacher pointed to another, they followed him. And he asked them: "What do you seek?" Ultimately,. that is the question the Lord addresses to each one of us. And the answer we give is the most significant decision of our lives, the decision that, consciously or unconsciously, decides all else that we do. If we listen to the deepest ye~arning of our hearts, we, too, will respond, "Master, where do you dwell?" Master!. Yes. Be our master, our teacher, our guide, and let us abide with you, wherever that may be for us. And he replies, "Come and see!" It is when we experience this presence of God, speaking to our deepest hearts, that we know we have found our Master, our Way, our Life. Some years ago I was in Rome taking part in a vocation conference sponsored by the Sacred Congregation for Religious. There were brothers and 352 Come and See: The "'Cottage Program" / 353 sisters, priests and lay religious from many nations taking part in the conference. One of the modern features of this conference was that each par-ticipant was :free to speak in his or her own language. One evening in the course of the program we had a question box. Archbishop Paul Philippe, the Secretary of the Congregation, was presiding, reading out the questions found in the box, and inviting answers from the floor. "Now, here is an interesting question," he said. "How do you get across to a young person the idea of the contemplative life?" A little priest from Brazil, a Salesian with an Irish name like McHale, jumped up. In rapid-fire Portuguese he explained that the only way one can convey to a person the nature and meaning of the contemplative life is to bring him or her into con-tact with it, and let him or her discover its meaning, l think Father was right. And I believe that is equally true of any way of religious life or anylife of a transcendent nature. "Come and see." That is the thinking behind theCottage Progr.am. There is on the property of St. Joseph's Abbey (near Spencer, Massachusetts) a small stone house with six rooms in all. It was built in the 1920's, hut the lodge-like living room boasts beams over two-hundred years old, taken from a barn that stood in the days of Ethan ~llen, the onetime owner of the property. The kitchen and dining-room have been converted into bedrooms. The garage is now a chapel, dedicated to St. John the Baptist, the 'first vocation director. In an icon over the altar he points to Christ in the tabernacle. Standing in the shadow of the recently built abbey, the cottage offers young men interested in monastic life the opportunity to "come and see." It is usually full, and at times more than full ("full" means five men, but the rooms can accommodate two, and there is also the attic. There is always room for one more!). Those staying at the cottage follow very much the same schedule as the monks. They' form a little community of their own, so they won't feel strange or lost in the large monastic community, but they do join the monks for the Office, the Eucharist and work. The men are welcome to come for a day, a weekend, a week, or sometimes even 'longer-- whatever seems good for them. They are encouraged to think of the cottage as their home--a sort of spiritual home base. They may come whenever they wish. To date, no one has abused this open hospitality. The first visit is usually preceded by some reading about life .in the monastery. Each evening the candidates (or "cottagers," as they are sometimes called) gather around the great stone hearth for a colloquium or a conference with the Vocation Father, where they can learn of the wisdom and ways of the monks and have their questions answered. In the course of his visit, each young man is given practical instructions on how to do spiritual or faith reading and how to meditate. If he already has a method of meditation which has proved fruitful for him, he is encouraged to continue in it. If it is one learned from an Eastern master, he is helped to see how to place it in a Christian framework so as to open it to the Spirit, to faith, 354 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 and to love, so that it can truly be prayer. Before he leaves, the candidate is asked to formulate his own rule of life and to go over it with the Vocation Father. Our method for this is simple: After reflecting prayerfully on l Corin-thians 2, the candidate takes four sheets of paper. On the first; he tries to ex-press as succintly as he can the present goals of his life as he sees them. On the second, he lists as fully as possible the things he has to do to attain these goals. On the third, he lists the things he sees have been preventing him from moving toward his objectives. And, finally, on the fourth, he formulates a daily pro-gram for himself, and also a weekly and monthly schedt~ie of particulai: events.* This gives the candidate a concrete, practical support for bringing into his everyday life something of what he has learned and experienced as he shared the monks' life accordin.g to their Rule. Such an experience helps the young man to recognize and foster' the grace of vocation he is receiving. In some chses, it may be a long time before an individual can enter the monastic community. The qottage, though, already gives him a sense that in some way he already belongs, that he has his place in the monastery and a'spiritual father who cares for him. In some cases, the cottage experience puts the young man in touch with the contemplative dimen-sion of his life and shows him how to develop it, even as he moves on to some other vocation. It is not as easy for active religious communities to provide a Cottage Program as it is for monastic communities whose life is centered in a stable fashion in one place. But it is not impossible, and I think it can be, in some way or form, very useful. Let me suggest what I think could be an ideal form for an active religious institute. Obviously, the ideal always has to be adapted as it finds its ieal incarnations. It has been my experience over the years that there are a significant number of active religious who feel the call to a more contemplative form of life, either on a temporary or a permanent basis. It seems sad that they must, in most cases, think of going outside their own communities to realize this. :Far better would it be I think, if, ea~:h province or congregation had its own contem-plative house or house of prayer. Here a core group of members, committed for varying periods of time, could live the spiritual dimension of the particular charism of the community in a fuller way, and devote time.to a deeper study of the institute's proper ~:harism. It would be a place where the other members of the community could come, for days of recollection or longer retreats, to get more deeply in touch with their shared charism, their own deepest spirit. Such a house of prayer or contemplative center would, of cours~e, form a very precious and enriching adjunct for the novitiate and house of formation. It could also greatly encourage and inspire the retirement community as the seni6r members live out their life commitment in a more c0nte.mplative way. Here, though, I am thinking of such a house as a context within which the o *For a fuller treatment of this method, see°the Epilogue of my book, Daily We Touch Hhn. Come and See: The "'Cottage Program'" / 355 vocation father or mother could offer the ministry of hospitality. The aspirants would be able to perceive in the core group,a good expression of the spiritual and communal aspects of the life of that community. It is precisely an attraction to these aspects that often leads ~ oung men and women to explore the possibility of living out their commitment to Christ and his Body in a religious community. There would always be a group of professed religiou~ there with whom the candidates could pray and work. These would normally be members more reflectively conscious of the charism of their community, of their own participation in the grace of the founder. And so they would be able to help the aspirants to identify the grace stirring in their own hearts. Such an arrangement-- a vocation program within the context of a house of prayer or contemplative center--will not always be possible, or even desirable in some cases. Another alternative for a Cottage Program would be the house of formation or novitiate, if the vocation father or mother could find a bit of space there; a few rooms, for the candidates and themselves, and a common room are enough. The formation team could be the "stable com-munity" providing the lived experience for the aspirants. And these young men or women could readily identify with the young people in the formation or novitiate program. Whatever the arrangements, the ingredients that seem to contribute to the makimal success of such a program are:" 1. The presence of a professed community which obviously lives the spiritual aspects of the vocation., though thi~ does not exclude involvement in active .apostolates. 2. Access to the younger members of the community who have recently embarked on this life and with whom the candidates can easily identify. 3. A vocation father/mother willing and able to function as a spiritual father/mother, to instruct in the spiritual arts, to pray with the candidates, and to pray for them. 4. Practical instruction in spiritual reading, meditation (we usually use Centering Prayer), and the art of receiving spiritual guidance. Merton's little book, Spiritual Direction and MeditatiOn, published by Liturgical Press, Collegeville, Minnesota, is good for this. 5. A rule of life. 6. An open and welcoming hospitality. We have found that frequently candidates tell others of their experience at the cottage and are eager to have them share ira this program. This has added to the almost geometric increase of caffdidates we have experienced since we have inauguratedthe Cottage Program. There are many other programs underway~in different religious orders and congregations, which include~ one or othi~r of the aspects of the Cottage Program. I do not propose this program as the only way or the best way, but simply share it as one way, a way that has worked very well for us. I believe it 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 has been not only successful in fostering vocations for our own community (we have seventeen in the novitiate at the moment), butin making a contribu-tion to other religious communities, and to the Church at large. This year more than three hundred fifty have stayed at the cottage. All have found it a beneficial experience. Each learned at least a little more~ about prayer; about community, about Christ our Lord and his great love for each one of us. Such fruit makes a Cottage Program more than worthwhile. Now Available As A Reprint Celibate Genitality by William F. Kra[t Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. " Address: Review for Religious Am 428 3601 Llndell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Vocations: Identity and Commitment M. Marceiline Falk, C.PP.S. Sister Marcelline teaches at Bishop DuBourg High School; 5850 Eichelberger; St. Louis, MO 63109. Clearly we are living in times of crises. There are financial and political crises that make the front pages of our daily papers and evening newscasts. But there is another crisis, one that is becoming, or should be, of great interest and concern to those who love the Church of.Christ: that is the crisis of voca-tions to women's religious communities. " For centuries women religious, by their consecrated lives and devoted labors have fulfilled an important mission in the Church. Will they be able to continue that mission? Only if they are able to maintain their membership in sufficient numbers to continue in existence and so perform the apostolic ser-vices that the Church has entrusted to them. The severe drop in the number of vocations to women's religious com-munities is well-known. It is interesting to observe that both the sudden drop in religious vocations and the massive exodus of religious women engaged in active apostolates occurred at the same time that many communities were discarding religious habits, leaving earlier apostolates for other forms of ser-vice, and adopting life-styles more nearly !ike those of their secular counter-parts. Is there a causal relationship or at least a significant correlation between these concurrent phenomena? Are commitment to a specific apostolate and a readily perceived identity important factors in the viability of religious com-munities, as they are in other groups and organizations? Does a distin-guishable garb help to build an identity, promote a visibility which encourages vocations, make known that a religious woman is somehow different? Does a specific apostolic commitment attract the generosity of young women? Are 357 358 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 external life-style practices related to the number of vocations that a religious community can expect? If the answer to these questions is "Yes" then perhaps this will be instructive in our efforts to reverse the trend of too few vocations. In an attempt to find answers to the above questions, to ascertain the percentage of youthful members' in communities, and to establish a possible correlation between youthful membership and some readily observable life-style characteristics, 1 conducted a survey during the spring and summer of 1978. The results of this survey indicate that, indeed, the answer to these ques-tions is in the affirmative~ The results clearly show that religious communities which have kept a readily identifiable religious habit, however modified, and which engage in well-defined community apostolates do have more vocations. Many have adopted modified habits, but they are still readily identifiable as religious women~ Further, the term, "a definite community apostolate," need not preclude other works of charity being undertaken by the community in response to real need, when the work is not contrary to the spirit of the com-munity, and does not detract from the primary apostolate. The following questionnaire was sent only to major superiors of 300 active religious communities.2 The names were selected in a random manner from approximately 800 listed in the 1975 Catholic Directory. Responses were received from 223 or 74°70 of the sample. Of these, two were incomplete. The questionnaire used follows: Survey on Religious Life-style Practices A. 1. Nameofcongregation (or province) 2. Number of final professed sisters " 3. N~mber of sisters in temporary commitment 4. Number of novices of postulants 5. Number of other types of formation (pleasespecify) B. Policy of Congregation in regard to the following: 1. Is there a (superior, coordinator, Yes.____, No___. 2. 3. 4. .) in charge in each local house? Is this person elected , appointed ., other Other types of local government Are personnel appointments made a) __ by direct appointment.'?, ~. b) __ by choice of individual? c) __ by assignmer~t after consultation with the sister d) __ other (specify) Does your congregation have a definite commitment to a specific apostolate in the Church? Yes , No ? What is/are the principal apostolate(s) your sisters serve? Does your congregation have an official, d~stmctive habit? Yes " , No~__. ' Youthful membership includes sisters in temporary profession or promises and novices. Total membership includes final professed, temporary professed and novices. 2 Very small communities and contemplative communities were not included. Vocations: Identity and Commitment / 359 8. Does your congregation permit the use of secular dress? Yes~, No__. a) At the sister's own discretion? b) With thepermission of the major superior? c) Other (please specify) 9: Do the sisters have the use of a personal bridget? Yes~, No~. a) Is there a fixed amount? b) For what purpose may this budget be used? The questions in Part A we~:e used to provide information about the number of religious, and to determine the percentage of youthful membership in the congregations surveyed. The percentage of youthful membership can be used as an indicator of viability or numerical stability. Data from questions in l~art A were analyzed, and results are given in the following table. Com-munities were divided into nine groups, according to the percent of youthful members: Table I Group 07o Youthful Members No. of Communities % of Total Sample I Over 10% 18 8.1 o10 11 9.9-6.00/o 19 8.6°1o 111 5.9-4.507o ' 23 10.4070 IV 4.4-3.5070. " 28 12.6070 V 3.4,2.0070 29 13.1 070 VI 2.4-2.0% 29 13.107o VII 1.9-1.5°/0 23 10.40/o VIII 1.4-1.00/o 27 12.2% IX Less than 1 070 25 I 1.3% Let us assume that an average of about 10%0 of young members will allow a religious institute to maintain its membership,3 and that about five years elapse between entrance into the novitiate and final profession. This would mean that an average yearly entrance rate of about 2% would be required to maintain a numerically stable community.' If we accept this percentage of new members as necessary for the maintenance of numerical stability in the community, it takes into account an expected loss of 2% due to death or departures. Communities, then, which can categorize 10% of their population as "young," and which also have an influx of new members at the rate of 2% per year, would have a numerically stable, or even increasing membership. If a community can only describe 5% of its membership as young, this would indicate that it has been receiving new members at a rate of about 1%. A youthful population of 2% would suggest admissions at the rate of 0.4% annually. In each of these instances, given the typical 2% proportion of change due to death and departure, losses to the total membership would be statistically predictable: 1% and 1.6% respectively. The same predictability ' "Religious in the World (Statistics up to Dec. 31, 1974)," Consecrated Life I, No. 1 (1977). ' For example, a community of 500 would need an average of ten new members per year to main-tain a stable membership. 360 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/3 would pertain to each of the nine categories of communities in our sampling. On the basis of these calculations, Group I would be expe.cted to maintain or increase its total membership. Communities in Groups II find IlI could be expected to have progressively slightly reduced membership. If the present trend continues for groups IV, V, and VI, their membership would probably be halved in three to five decades, while those in Groups VII, VII1 and IX might well cease to exist in about three decades. Obviously these calculations are premised on present trends. Factors, however, coulffchange in the future, and this could retard the fulfillment of these predictions-- or accelerate them. Part B of the questionnaire is concerned with som~ external, behavioral characteristics. The characteristics chosen are different from those usually associated with ~ecular life-styles, and traditionally have been common characteristics among active communities of religious women. Numbers one and two have to do with community governance. Numbers three through six are concerned with apostolate and personnel assignment. Numbers seven and eight deal with the matter of religious habit, and nine, with the question of personal budget. In each of thes~ areas, change became evident after the Second Vatican Council. One of the purposes of the survey was to explore the possibility that these changes had an influence on the incidence of vocations to the respective communities. To this end, the number and percentages of communities which evidenced a particular characteristic were tabulated, and compared against the percent-age of young members each community enjoyed. My fullest hopes in pursuing this investigation were not realized. Nothing could be concluded about postulants, or persons in other types of formation. Responses to questions 2 and 3B, concerning local governance, proved ambiguous, and indications concerning amounts and usages in the matter of personal budgets were too varied to admit of interpretation. Therefore, for purposes of our study, only Part A and questions 1, 4, 7, 8 and 9 of Part B proved useful for our analysis. In the tables which follow, the responses to the various items are grouped on the basis of .the proportion of youthful me.rnbers, i.e., on the basis of how those communities have succeeded in draw-ing new members to join them. Table 2 Percent of Communities With a Person in Charge at the Local Level Number in Group % of Group 10070 15 out of 18 83.3%0 9.9-6.007° 16 out of 19 84:2°/0 5.9-4.5070 18 out of 23 78.3070 4.4-3.5070 20 out of 28 71.4%0 3.4-2.5% 17 out of 29 58.4% 2.4-2.0% 18 out of 29 62.1% 1.9-1.5o/0 17 out of 23 73.9°70 1.4-1.0% 15 out of 27 55.6% Less than I% 21 out of 25 84.0% :Vocation~: Identity and Commitment / 361 Table 3 Percent of Communities with Personnel Placement After Consultation Number in Group °/o of Group 10% 16 out of 18 88.9% 9.9-&0%o 16 out of 19 84.2070 5.9-4.5°7o 17 out of 23 73.9°/o 4.4-3.5¢/0 24 out of 28 85.7%0 3:4-2.5%0 18 out of 29 62.1°/0 2.4-2.0%o 24 out of 29 82.8% 1.9-1.5%0 14 out of 23 60.9% 1.4-1.0% 20 outof 27 70.1% Less than 1% 20 out of 25 80.0% Table 4 Percent of Communities With Specific Community Apostolic Service Number in Group a/o of Group 10% 15 out of 18 83.3% 9.9-6.0% 16 out of 19 84.2% 5.9-4.5% 19 out of 23 82.6% 4.4-3.5% 23 out of 28 82. 1% 3.4-2.5% i4 out of 29 48.3% 2.4-2.0% 15 out of 29 51.7% 1.9-1.5% 14 out of 23 60.9% 1.4-1.0% 12 out of 27 44.4% Less than 1% 12 out of 25 48.0% Table 5 Percent of Communities with a Distinctive Habit Number in Group °/o of Group 10% 16 out of 18 88.9% 9.9-6.0% 15 out of 19 80~0% 5.9-4.5% 13 OUt of 23 56.5% 4.4-3.5% 23 out of 28 82.1% 3.4-2.5% 14 out of 29 48.3% 2.4-2.0% 14 out of 29 48.3% 1.9-1.5% 11 out of 23 47.8% 1.4-1.0% 8 out of 27 29.6% 1.0% 13 out of 25 52.0% Table 6 Percent of Communities Permitting Secular Dress at Sister's own Discretion Number in Group ~o of Group 10% 2 out of 18 I1.1% 9.9-6.0% 4 out of 19 21.0% 5.9-4.5%0 6 out of 23 26.1% 4.4-3.5% 9 out of 28 32.1% 3.4-2.5% 15 out of 29 51.7% 2.4-2.0% 17 out of 29 58.6% 1.9-1.5% 15 out of 23 65.2% 1.4-1.0% 19 out of 27 70.4% 1.0% 17 out of 25 68.0% 362 / Review for Religious, 'Volume 39, 1980/3 Table 7 Percent of Communities Using a Personal Budget Number in Group % of Group 10% 5 out of 18 27.8%0 9.9-6.0% 10 out of 19 52.6%o 5.9-4.5% 16 out of 23 69.6%0 4.4-3.5%o 22 out of 28 78.6%0 3.4-2.5% 27 outof 29 93.1% 2.4-2.0% 28 out of 29 96.6% 1.9-1.5% 20out of 23 ¯ 87.0% 1.4-1.0% 26 out of 27 96.3% 1.0% 25 out of 25 100.0% These tables indicate that the characteristics of a specific community apostolate and a distinctive habit do have a strong influence on the number of youthful members, and therefore, on the number of vocations to a com-munity. To test the degree of relationship between the given characteristic and the percent of youthful membership, a statistical analysis of the data given in the previous tables was made. The usual instruments of the Spearmann cor-relation coefficients and significance tests were used to demonstrate statistical correlation between the percentage of youthful members and .the various characteristics with the following results,~ The correlation between youthful membership and the characteristic of having "a person in charge at the local level" did not show any 'appreciable significance. The correlation was 38.33.07o with a corresponding significance of ¯ 154. This is evident from the data, which do not show much variation. Most communities reported a person in charge. Answers to the questionnaire on this point were frequently qualified by such statements as: "Yes, but not in smaller houses," or: "No, except in the larger houses." The correlation between youthful membership and the use of a personal budget is even less, at -31.67070, having a significance of .203. The negative correlation indicates that there is some slight decrease in the use of the budget as the percentage of youthful members increases. Again, although most com-munities indicated the use of a personal budget, the amount and kinds of restrictions on its use varied from very small amounts for the purchase of small, personal items to large amounts with practically unrestricted use. It was interesting to note that the use of th.e personal budget was least evident among communities which did not permit secular dress. Personnel placement after consultation with sisters shows a somewhat higher correlation, of 60.0°70, and a significance of .044. Possibly there is a ~ Spearmann correlation percentages, based on O- 100%, measure the tendency of two variable~ to vary ~together, that is to show a relationship to each other. Significance tests decide whether dif-ferences between values obtained from the samples and theoretical expeclations could be due to chance. A low significance factor indicates that the relationship studied could not be due to chance. Vocations: Identity and Commitment / 363 relationship between community apostolate and the placement of personnel in areas of community commitment. Of significance is the very high correlation between the number of young members and the existence of a specific community apostolate (90.0°7o and a significance of .001). This strongly suggests that a community commitment to a specific service in the Church has a strong influence on vocations. Such apostolic services were not necessarily limited to only one area of the apostolate. Many communities, in fact, indicated a wide range of apostolic services. But they were community apostolates, and not left to individual choice. A distinctive religious habit is also a significant factor in the number of youthful religious in a community. In this case, the correlation percent is 77.8070, with a significance factor of .007. The most highly significant correlation was the inverse ratio between the number of youthful members and the use of secular clothes at the sister's own discretion. Here a-98.33070 correlation coefficient, and a significance of .001 clearly indicate the negative influence of this characteristic on vocations.6 Ap-parently commun~ities having an open option for secular clothes fail to attract many young women. The characteristics analyzed in this study cannot be the only ones which in-fluence the number of vocations, and so affect the numerical stability of a religious community. Neither are they necessarily a measure of the internal fervor, or of the importance of a particular community's contribution to the Church and the People of God. Other aspects, such as the quality ofcom-munity prayer life, the kind of apostolate, the geographic location,ethnic origin, time of founding--as well as many other intangibles, such as com-munity spirit, understanding of the vows, and other internal characteris-tics- will certainly also have an effect on the overall picture. However, the statistical analysis of the data obtained in the questionnaire does clearly indicate that, generally, communities with a specific and well-defined apostolate, and those which retain the visible sign of the habit do have a significantly greater number of young members. Apparently these two fac- . tors do, in large measure, provide the initial visibility, the instant recognition of "Who We Are," and "What We Do" that are capable of drawing new members to the communities that possess them. 6 The negative percent means that the use of secular dress has a strong adverse effect on religious vocations. 364 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 Since these characteristics, a reasonably specific apostolic service and a distinctive habit (or nonuse of secular clothes) does seem to show such a high significance, it might be interesting to apply the conclusions to a real community. I made an analysis of membership trends for one particular community. This community changed its apostolic thrust from education to an open-ended .apostolate, according to which its present policy is to permit new members to choose their own apostolic field of service. The use of secular dress was also left to the discretion of each sister. A comparison of the membership of this community between the years 1961 and 1978 shows the following:' Table 8 1961 1978 Nurfiber of Final Professed 513 458 Number in Temporary Vows 47 1 I Novices 48 3 Total Membership 608 472 In 1961, the youthful membership (novices and "juniors") was 95, or 15.6% of the total. In 1978, these numbered only 14, or 3% of the total membership. This represents a net los's of 136 sisters during this seventeen year period, a 22% loss. During this same period, 94 sisters died, and there were 80 new admissions. There were also over 100 departures. The major loss due to departures and a decline in admissions began in 1968, when the policies of individual choice of apostolic service and the use of secular dress became effective. At this time, a new formation program was introduced, placing a strong emphasis on self-fulfillment and promoting individual choice of apostolic service and of the mode of dressing. The median age in 1961 was about forty-eight years. In 1978, it had risen to about 63 years. In 1961, about half the community was professed less than twenty-five years. By 1978, half the community was professed for forty or more years. During the last ten years, since the new policies of self-choice in apostolic service and the use of secular dress went into effect, only fourteen sisters made first profession. Surely this would indicate that the rise in median age is rather due to a lack of new vocations, and of departures, than to a ¯ general rise in the median age of the population at large. Further, it is clear that the median age of this particular community is much too high for com-placency about the future. The following table shows the shift which took place in the median age of this community: ' The year 1961 was chosen as starting date because it was the last year before Vatican ll; 1978 is the latest date for which statistics were available. Vocations." Identity and Commitment / 365 Table 9 1961 1978 Number of Years Number of % Number of % of Professed Sisters Total Sisters Total More than 53 18 3.0 61 13.0 48-52 22 3.6 44 9.3 43-47 30 4.9 65 13.8 38-42 40 6.6 79 16.7 33-37 55 9.0 42 8.9 28-32 65 10.7 32 6.7 23-27 78 12.8 37 7.8 18-22 65 10.7 32 6.7 13-17 39 6.4 40 8.5 8-12 48 7.9 15 3.1 4- 7 54 8.9 8 1.7 3 or less (Including Novices) 95 15.0 14 3.0'- Prognostications from this table make it clear that if the trends continue, and are not somehow reversed, it will become increasingly difficult for this particular community to continue its service to the Church, that, indeed, it faces a struggle for survival in the not too distant future. The. decrease in religious vocations is a grave concern for the whole Church, as the following statement of Paul VI in an address to religious women indicates: ~ In truth, here again we have to" make a double observation that is not a happy one. Religious vocations, for women, too, are falling off; yet both the Church and secular society have a gro.wing need for these vocations. This is one of th~ problems of our time, for whose solution we must work and pray? The importance of identity and apostolic commitment in fostering voca-tions is stressed by Cardinal Pironio, Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for' Religious and Secular Institutes: In a serious study of consecrated life--particularly in evaluating certain attitudes and concrete activities--there is no doubt that many things would change if we responded with loyalty to this question: "What do Christ, the ecclesial community, and the world in which we live expect of us?" At any rate, there are three aspects in consecrated life which it would be well to emphasize: The Church expects religious to be faithful to their identi-ty, to their essential values, and to their evangelical relevance . Religious are, before all else, Christians, but they are religious in a way that is unmistakably distinct . Religious identity d0es not segregate religious from the rest of the members of the People of God, nor does it remove them from the world; on the contrary, it identifies them and involves them in the world with their own, unmistakable specificity . The loss of identity is one ~ Pope Paul VI, "New Horizons for Women Religious," address given to women religious on the feast of the Nativity of our Lady, 1964, Documents on Renewal for Religious, Daughters of St. Paul, 1974, p. 57. 366 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 of the causes today of the drop in vocations to consecrated life. When an institute's iden-tity disappears, or is jeopardized, it is only logical for young people to lose their en-thusiasm and become disoriented. Being faithful to one's self is therefore to take on a strong commitment with God and with men. it is the essence of our vocation, and of our consecration, and of our mission.~ I The words of our Holy Father, John Paul II, spoken to mothers general on November 16, 1978, just one month after his election, are particularly significant: And if your consecration to God is really such a deep reality, it is not unimportant to bear permanently its exterior sign which a simple and suitable habit constitutes; it is the means to remind yourse!ves constantly of your commitment which contrasts strongly with the spirit of the world; it is a silent, but eloquent testimony that our secularized world needs to find on its way, as many Christians, moreover, desire. 1 ask you to turh this over carefully in your minds. '° This study of external behavioral characteristics as related to vocations is an attempt to contribute to a serious study of possible causes for the evident decline in the number of religious vocations to active communities of women in the United States. While it is true that this is only part of the total picture, it is hoped that a spirit of openness would encourage communities to consider seriously the impact of these external behavior patterns on the perception of what religious life is all about. The interior spirit of a community is of the ut-most importance, but the external manifestation of that spirit of dedication, the willingness to be recognized by a religious habit and the having of a specific apostolic commitment to the service of Christ in the Church and the world is also important. These externals advertise for all to see: "We are religious! We do believe that our.being and our service are essential to our specifically religious witness." 9 Eduardo Cardinal Pironio, "Th~ Joy of Fidelity," Consecrated Life Ill No. ~, 1979. ,o Pope John Paul 11, "Be True Daughters~ of the Church, Not Orily in Words But in Deeds," Strain Forward, Vol. 12, No. 1, January 1979. How About a Semi-Sermon Sometime? M. Eucharista Ward, O.S.F. Sister Eucharista teaches at St. Ladislaus Higl~ School; 2697 Caniff Ave.; Hamtramck, M 148212. It was hard to imagine how God could add to a spiritual nurturing that for ten years had seemed almost the equivalent of hothouse conditi

Issue 16.3 of the Review for Religious, 1957. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious MAY 15, 1957 Father Charles Nerinckx . Sister M. Matilda Current Spiritual Writing . Thomas G. O'Callaghan Apostates and Fugitives . Joseph I:. Gallen Roman Documents . R. I:. Smith Book Reviews Questions and Answers Summer Institutes Communications~ VOLUME 16 NUMBER 3 RI::VI I::W FOR RI LIGIOUS VOLUME 16 MAY, 1957 Nu~BER 3 CONTENTS FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX--Sister M. Matilda, S.L . 129 SUMMER INSTITUTES . 142 CURRENT SPIRITUAL WRITING-- Thomas G. O'CaIlaghan, S.J . 143 DELAYED VOCATIONS . 154 GUIDANCE FOR RELIGIOUS . 154 APOSTATES AND FUGITIVES~Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 155 PRAYER OF POPE PIUS XII FOR RELIGIOUS VOCATIONS. 165 SURVEY OF ROMAN DOCUMENTS--R. F. Smith, S.J . 166 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 175 COMMUNICATIONS . 176 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS~ Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana. i . 180 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS~- 13. Initiation of Principle of Adaptation . 188 14. Credo in Mass . 188 15. Bowing at Distribution of Communion . 189 16. Principles of Adaptation of Prayer . 189 17. Candidates of Inferior Intellectual Ability . 191 18. Special Ordinary Confessor of a Teaching Brother . 192 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, May, t957. Vol. 16, No. 3. Published bi-monthly by The Queen's Work, 3115 South Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Edited by the Jesuit Fathers of St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesi-astical approval. Second class mail privilege authorized at St. Louis, Mo. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J.; Gerald Kelly, S.J., Henry Willmering, S.J. Literary Editor: Robert F. Weiss, S.J. Copyright, 1957, by The Queen's Work. Subscription price in U.S.A. and Canada: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U.S.A. Please send all renewals and new subscriptions to: Review for Religious, 3115 South Grand Boulevard, St. Louis 18, Missouri. The story of the founder of the Lorettines F :her.Ch rles Nerinckx Sist:er M. Mat:ilda, S.L. T HOUGH the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding small." Sometimes we see results, more often we do not. In the life of Reverend Charles Nerinckx and the story of the founding of the Congregation of the Sisters of Loretto, we see much that is tangibJe; yet there is much that is still intangible. The French Revolution was God's smithy in which Nerinckx's character and missionary vocation were forged and welded; ~the American Revolution and the adjust-ment period that followed saw the birth of Mary Rhodes and the other young women whose youth must h~ive been spent amid the problems of a young country in its new-found freedom. These lives, trained in stress and turmoil, an ocean apart, were being prepared slowly but effectively to converge in a work that has carried on through the years. Charles Nerinckx was born October 2, 1761, in the province of Brabant, Belgium, the oldest of seven brothers arid seven sisters born to Sebastian Nerinckx and Petronilla Langhendries, The father was a skillful physician, a Christian of strong and practical faith too infrequently found among the medical men of Europe of that day; the mother, a woman of solid piety and sturdy common sense. With a view to enlarging his medical practice and securing greater educational advantages for his children, Dr. Nerinckx early moved to Ninove, province of East Flanders. Here it was that Charles, at the age of six, began his primary studies. Having completed his elementary education in the local schools, Charles was sent successively to Enghien, Gheel, and the Catholic Uni-versity of. Louvain. Then, having decided to study for the secu-lar priesthood, he entered the seminary at Mechlin and was there 129 SISTER M. MATILDA Review for Religious ordained in 1785.' The following year he was appointed vicar of the metropolitan parish of St. Rumoldus, Mechlin, over which Prince John Henry Cardinal de Frankenberghe presided as arch-bishop. Father Nerinckx filled this important post for eight years with such zeal as to attract the admiring notice of the Cardinal Archbishop. So, when the parish of Everberg-Meer-beke, midway between Mechlin and Brussels, became vacant at "the death of the aged incumbent, M. Nerinckx was appointed to fill it by the general sut~rage of a board ot~ examiners, who, after the searching examination, o'r concursus, recommended by the Holy Council of Trent for such cases, unanimously awarded him the palm over all other candidates." Father Nerinckx was then thirty-three years of age. The greatest problem encountered in the new assignment was the obstinate apathy of the people towards their religious duties. Beginning with the children, winning their love and obedience, he soon won their parents and elders. Within three years such a profound change had been wrought that the mighty wave of irreligion attendant on the victorious armies of the French revolutionists failed to engulf his parishioners. Leaders of the opposition were naturally enraged. They succeeded in having him proscribed because he refused to take the oath de-manded by the government, an oath at variance with his con-science. Thus forced into hiding, he attended his parish only in secret; finally even this became too dangerous. Disguised as a peasant, Father Nerinckx went to Dendermonde where his aunt, Mother Constantia, was the superior of the Hospital of St. Blase. For months he lived in the attic of the hospital, never stirring abroad in daylight but ministering by night to the sick, to the dying, even to condemned prisoners, and caring for the spir: itual welfare of the sisters who had been deprived of their chap. lain by the same enmity that had made their guest a fugitive. Thus by night he did God's work for others; by day he prayed, medita~ted, planned, studied, wrote, and slept a little. For four years he evaded informers and acted secretly as chaplain of the 130 May, 1957 FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX hospital, yet his priestly zeal urged actioni free and untrammeldd action, impossible in his native land under existing conditionS. To save souls was his consuming desire; the western world, where the harvest was great and the laborers few, called him. He would go t.here. Father Nerinckx volunteered' for the American missions. On his arrival at Baltimore in the fall of 1804, he was appointed by Bishop John Carroll to the Kentucky sedtion of his vast dio-cese of Baltimore whicli embraced the whole of the United States. No'record is left us'~of what the word "Kentucky" meant to the Belgian exile on receiving this appointment. Generous in his ignorance of what life on the American frontier meant for a missionary, "it never was regretted when knowledge, the fullest and the bitterest, was his measure." After a few.months at G~orgetown, where he diligently studied the English language, he set out for Kentu.cl~y .with a colony of Trappist monks bound for the same region. Finding theil mode of travel too slow for h~is ardent zeal he pushed ahead alone and arrived on July 18, 1805, at St. Stephen's Farm, sixty miles south of Louisville. He went immediately to work aiding Reverend Stephen Theodore Badin, then the only priest in the state of Kentucky. At first-Father Nerinckx rode the cir-cuits of the missions nearer the priests'-headquarters, St. Steph-en's Farm, now Loretto Motherhouse; liter, he attended those farther away until, as he learned the country, he took the most remote. For the first seven years he shared the humble cabin, coarse fare, and weary journeys of Father Badin at St. Stephen's; after-wards he took up his residence chiefly at the log church of St. Charles on Hardin Creek, to which church he had added a room for himself. But he was seldom at home; he lived in his scaitered missions and passed long hours in the saddle. He then had charge of six large congregations,.besides a much greater number of mission stations scattered over the whole extent of Kentucky. SISTER M. MATILDA Review for Religious To visit all his churches and stations generally required the space of at least six weeks. When the two priests were together, they often discussed the advisab!lity of a diocese with headquarters nearer than Baltimore. Father Badin had urged it before Father Nerinckx arrived; and the latter, after a very short time in Kentucky, added his urging to that of his companion. When the diocese was created in 1808 and Bardstown named as the see city, the two priests set to work to prepare, for the arrival of Bishop Flaget by building near their own a log cabin for him where the formal installation took place. As in Europe Father Nerinckx had used the children to win the people back to God, so in Kentucky he used the same tactics to preserve and to spread the Faith. He loved these little Kentucky children; their simplicity, guilelessness, innocence drew him to them. But he well "knew youthful minds required more than an occasional lesson in the truths of religion if the Faith was to be preserved. Too, he knew education would eventually come to the Kentucky frontier; and, when it came, it would be education without religion. How could he safeguard the Faith of these little ones? Within a year after his arrival he wrote to his parents that he intended to establish a sisterhood to help him in the work. His first effort was a failure, and in his humility he shouldered the blame as being too unworthy of such an undertaking and urged Father Badin to take over the foundation. Accordingly a convent was begun and speedily completed. It stood about a mile and a half from St. Stephen's. Several young women applied to be the first religious. But God's mill does not grind so fast. He had chosen other souls for this work, and until His time came and His chosen ones were fully prepared the work would not begin.- A bolt of lightning set fire to the building before it could be occupied, leaving, only two blackened chimneys--prophetic symbols to Father Nerinckx of future SUCCESS. Father Badin, crushed as-was Father Nerinckx with disap-pointment at the failure of this cherished project, turned to the 132 May, 1957 FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX more distant missions, leaying the nearer congregations to his co-laborer. For four years Father Nerinckx labored and prayed and hoped. God's time had not yet come; he must wait. Riding the circuit of the nearer missions gave him opportunity to study the whole situation; and his convictions became stronger that a sisterhood would arise, a sisterhood as American as the American pioneer women who would build it. This time the initiative came, not from the priests, but from a member of the St. Charles Cong. regation, a Miss Mary Rhodes who was visiting her brother and sister, earlier immigrants to .Kentucky. Mary Rhodes was born in Washington, Maryland, now the District of Columbia. She had received a convent edu-cation, presumably with the Pious Ladies who had established themselves at Georgetown in 1799 and adopted the Visitandine Rule in 1816. The Rhodes sisters were young ladies of culture and refinement, so it is easy to understand how concerned Mary Rhodes was to see her nieces growing up with few intellectual advantages and no mental ambitions beyond those which their hard-working father and mother could give them. What she could do to help them she did, by teaching them daily. Neigh-bors heard of the instruction that the little Rhodes children were receiving and asked for the same advantages for their daughters; Mary Rhodes's generous heart could not refuse what was in her power to give. She laid her project before Father Nerinckx, sought his approval to give religious instruction and the rudiments of elementary education to the girls who might come, and asked his blessing. Obtaining these, she set about converting a long-uninhabited log cabin into a school. The school prospered beyond the most sanguine expectations of pastor and teacher. The increased number of pupils induced Father Nerinckx to look for an assistant to help Miss Rhodes; this he found in Miss Christina Stuart, a pious young lady of the neigh-l~ orhood who eagerly accepted the invitation. Both young women lived for a time at the Rhodes's home; but, finding the house too' much frequented by worldly company, for ~vhich neither 133 S~ISTER M. MATILDA Review for Religious h:id any great inclination, they fitted up a .second log cabin ~adjoining the school and equally dilapidated and there took up their abode where they could pursue undisturbed their studies and the development of their spiritual life. For their livelihood they trusted, solely in, Divine Providence. Till now, we are told, they had not thought of the religious life; but, with the coming of Miss Nancy Havern,to share their happiness, their labors and privations, such a desire was born. The~e is no record of which soul first conceived the idea of becoming a religious; very like~ly it was Mary Rhodes, as she had been with the sisters at Georgetown; and at least 'she knew some-thing about sisters. Again Father Nerinckx was consulted. Happy as he was at finding such piety and generosity, he prudently in-structed them on the obligations of religious life and the obstacles they might meet under pioneer conditions. But they were not fearful; their trust in Providence was modeled on that of their adviser and spiritual father; and they begged him to give them some rules to live by. He wrote down a few simple rules for the three aspirants, gave them his blessing and encouragement. As soon as possible Father Nerinckx laid the whole affair before the loca! ordinary, Bishop Flaget, "who gave the undertaking his warmest approval and placed it under the care of Father Nerinckx." Father Nerinckx had said that hardships, disappointments, poverty, toi!, death would be their portion through the years; but with trust in Divine Providence and confidence in the watch-ful direction of their pastor they persevered. They increased in numbers and spread to other localities and states until at the present time, 1957, the Sisters of Loretto have 70 houses' in the United States. They staff 106 schools counti'ng grade and high schools separately. These are: 2 senior colleges, 1 junior college~ 21 senior high schools, 1 junior high school, 80 grade schools, and 1 pre-school. They teach in Alabama, Arizona., California, Colorado, Illinois, Kentucky, Missouri, New Mexico, Texas; Virginia, and Wyoming. In 1923 and 1933 they opened houses 134 May, 1957 FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX in China which flourished until the sisters were expelled by" the Communists in 1949. In founding the Institute of the Sisters of Loretto, Father Nerinckx called into service his rich knowledge of' canon law and church history, especially the history of the religious orders of the Church, to which he added a wealth of personal experience and his acquaintance and appreciation'of the rugged American spirit of independence, initiative, and adaptability. The French Revolution had not made him fearful, but it had made him cautious. Therefore, after a three-year trial period of his simple rule based on that of St. Augustine, he journeyed to Rome and submitted it to the highest ecclesiastical, authorities. He petitioned that the young Institute be placed .directly under pontifical juris-diction. This petition was granted; the Institute of the Sisters of Loretto became an exempt order.~in the third year of its existence. The spirit of the Society was determined from its inception. It is the same today. It is succinctly expressed in the words love and sacrifice. In more detail is the following summation from the first printed Holy Rule: The Sisters of Loretto are to impress most deeply upon their minds that the sacred obligation ot: the vows they pronounce are voluntarily as-sumed and must be meticulously fulfilled; silence hnd recollection must be cherished to stimulate an ever more intimate union with the Suffering Jesus and His Sorrowful Mother at the Cross; hardships and labor must be welcomed and embraced, not only as a way of livelihood, but as well. deserved penance for sin and mortification for atonement; and, finally, a great desire and a consistent effort to see religion and morals improve by a pious education of youth. The object, therefore, of the Congrega-tior~ is. twofold: the sanctification of its members, and the education of youth. While Father Nerinckx was busy with the establishment of the sisterhood, he did not neglect his othe~ duties or the organiza-tions he had started in his various parishes and stations for stim-ulating the spiritual welfare of his people. In 1806 at his church of Holy Mary on the Rolling Fork, he established a~ Confrater,nity of the Ros~ary, a children's Rosary Sodality called "Lilietum," a Confraternity of the Scapular; and, in 1809 in St.' Charles 135 SISTER M. MATILDA Review for Religious Church, he founded the first Holy Name Society in thee United States. Records of these organizations are still extant. It is interesting to note that there were 1,100 names on his Rosary roster; more than 600 on his Lilietum or children's Rosary Sodality list; 971 on his Scapular Society record; and 259 on his Holy Name Society register, every name. carefully written in his own hand. That Father Nerinckx was blessed with remarkable and dis-criminating foresight is shown by his efforts in behalf of the colored race in beginning a Negro oblate sisterhood in connec-tion with the Sisters of Loretto. Father Nerinckx was the product of the best European civilization, and he naturally found the conditions of slavery most repellent to his Christian principles. This is disclosed by his paternal solicitude for the wretched lot of the colored man in the United States. Whether by foresight, or by study of the American type of freedom and justice, he must have been convinced that the emancipation of the Negro would Come sooner or later in the young republic for he bent his efforts to .prepare for that crucial time of transition from slavery to freedom. To Christianize and educate these erstwhile slaves and to lead them to the right enjoyment of freedom, Father Nerinckx felt that the best means would be a sisterhood of their own race trained for this arduous work. Conviction for Father Nerinckx meant action, and he set to work. He arranged for the Sisters of Loretto to admit several colored girls into their school. It is on record that some of these became aspirants or postulants in May, 1824; but, after the death~of Father Nerinckx the following August, we hear no more of these young women. Whatever records of subsequent decisions in their regard that may have been kept were lost in the disastrous fire that laid the Motherhouse in ashes in 1858. Dr. J. A. Burns, C.S.C,, in his able work, The Catholic School System in the United States, says that this project of Father Nerinckx's, the Negro sisterho'od, "is in itself sufficient to stamp him'as a man whose educational ideas ran far ahead of his time." 136 May, 1957 FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX Bishop Flaget, greatly~, pleased with ,the success bf the Sisters of Loretto in their educational work for girls, Wished to provide the same opportunities for boys., He asked Father Nerinckx to establish a similar society for young'men, the object of which would be the education of orphan boys and boys of the middle class, "whose poverty so often" prevents the"Church and state from being benefitted by their talents." Father Nerin~kx's mind seems to have been running ~ilong the same lines, for he very readily acquiesced to his superior's request and set to 'work at once. With money collected from his own congreg~ltions and three thousand dollars collected by the sisters, the good missibnary purchased a farm which he named Mt.Mary. The loss of the main building and four smaller ones by fire .early in 1819 blighted the .prospects for the time being .and caused Father Nerinckx to underake a second voyage to Europe to appeal to his countrymen for funds and possible vocations. He returned in 1821 accompanied by several, fine young men, toost of whom joined the Jesuits, among them the renowned Fathers Peter J. de Smet and J. F. Van Assche. On!y three came to Kentucky aS aspirants for the brothei'hood, and one of these died very'shortly after his arrival. During Father Nerinckx's pro. tracted stay in Europe, Reverend William Byrne, who had been appointed to attend Holy Mary's and St. Charles's congregations, had opened a.boys' college on the property .Father Nerinckx had bought. He was decidedly averse, on the return of the older priest, to yielding possession, so Father Nerinckx had re-course to the 'bishop. Of this~ interview .Father Howlett writes, "Father Nerinckx expostulated with Bishop Flaget. over the changed destiny of the farm; but the bishop did not care to dis-lodge Father Byrne, who had begun with his sanction," Rather than give occasion, for scandal~ the weary traveler in humble sub. mission to authority diopped, the matter. Eventually, lacking encouragement, 'funds," and property, he gave up his cherished plans for a brotherhood. 137 SISTER M. MATILDA Review ]or Religious Father Nerinckx was always a student. In his four years of forced seclusion at the hospital in [Dendermonde he must have spent much time in close application, for his manuscripts of this period, if printed, would form eight or ten octavo volumes. They were in Latin, a language in which he excelled. Much that he wrote then and afterwards has been lost, but ~omething still remains in the convent at Dendermonde, and some manuscript volumes" on pastoral theology and kindred subjects may be found in the parish library at Meerbeke. "These show the depth of his trained mind, filled with an elaborate store of Scripture, the Fathers, the history of the Church, and sound theological prin-ciples~" 'Shortly after his death an act of vandalism destroyed all his b~,oks and writings except his little Treatise on Mission-arz'es and an exposition of the Reign of Satan, edited by a Dominican Father from notes left by the Belgian priest. These and his beautiful letters to Bishop Carroll prove he was a master of Latin compositibn. His original Rule, written in English, fbr the Sisters .of Loretto and his hand-penned catechism written in Flemish are' treasured at their motherhouse: Father Nerinckx in his nineteen years on the Kentucky missions built rio fewer than fourteen churches. Some o~ these he literally built with his own hands; in fact, he e~pended some manlaal labor on all Of them. They were mostly of logs; the last on the list was of brick and is still in a good statd o'f preserva-tion. The fourteen follow: H61y Mdry, Calvary, 1805i St. Cl'iarles, 1806; St. Clara's, 1808; St. Bernard's, Casey Creek, 1810; St.' Romoldus (now St. Romuald), Hardinsburg, Breck-enridge C6unty, 1810-1816; St. Paul's, Grayson County, "181.1; St, Augustine's,' Grayson Springs, (~rayson County, 1811; St. John.'s,'Rude's Creek, Hardin County, 1812;' St. John Baptist, Bullitt' County, 1812; St. Anthony's, Long Lick,. Breckenridgh County,i: 1812; St. Benedict's~ Spencer. ¯ Cdunty," 1'815; St. Augusfine's; Lebanon," 1817, finished b)~ Father Deparcq in i820; St. Vincent's,: New Hope, 1819; Holy Cross,.1823. This last is still used as a parish church. ., ~. May, 1957 FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX This zealous Belgian priest loved the house of God." Log churches of necessity h~d tO be plain, their furnishings in k~eep.- ing with the poverty of the faithful; but the pastqr so. ught the very best for the altar, especially for the tabernacle where the Bl~ssed Sacrament was to dwell. Everything connected with the Holy .Mysteries fired his devotion. Unless on a long journey or gravely ill never did he miss offering the Holy Sacrifice. On each of his journeys to Euro.pe, the first, in the interests of the sisterhood, the second, in that of the intended brotherhood', Father Nerinckx accumulated and brought to Kentucky church furnishings, paintings, sacred vessels, etc., estimated at over fifteen thousand dollars. Thus were the humble log churches enriched for divine services. He kept nothing for himself so that it was said at his death that his only legacy to the Lorettines was an unbounded confidence in Divine Providence and a very deep devotion to the Suffering Jesus and the Sorrowful Mary, devotions he instilled into them from the very beginning of the Institute. Having begun the study of English when he was past forty years of a, ge, Father Nerinckx never became versatile in its use. Hence, though learned and of solid judgment, he could never be credited with brilliancy of speech or writing in English. His discourses were plain, mattei'-of-fact instructions, couched in broken English with no ornamental figures, to enhance them. Were it not for his earnestness and sincerity and the spiritual impact of his words, he probably would have been considered a tiresome and disagreeable speaker. He sought not for elo-quence, but only that he might carry God's message to souls; and this he did in his humble, simple speech. Archbishop Martin John Spalding writes of this Kentucky missionary: M. Nerinckx," though kind and polite to all, wasorather austere in his manners, as well as rigid in his discipline. He WaS, however, always 'much mord rigid with himself, than with others. He never lost a mo-ment. He. knew well ~hat a priest who does his duty has little time to spare for idle conversation. Wherever good was to be done, or a 139 SISTER M. MATILDA Review for Religious soul to be saved', there he was. found, by day or by night, in rain or in sunshine, in winter or in summer. When not actually engaged in the ministry, he was always found at home, employed in prayer or in study. Reverend William J. Howlett, author of Life of Req;erend Charles Arerittckx, says: In matters of faith, religion, and moral practices he was stern, and made no compromise with sin and its dangers. Cursing, drinking, horse-racing and dancing were either sinful or productive of sin, and he op-posed them rigorously . If in his preaching he showed no mercy to sin, in the confessional he had the heart of a father for his sinful chil. dren, and in all his missions his heaviest work was in the confessional, which Bishop Spalding says, 'was usually thronged by penitents, from early dawn until midday, all of whom, without one exception, were deeply attached to him.' Nor do we hear that he was in the habit of refusing absolution to any greater extent than a prudent confessor does today.'. Duty was a great thing wi~h him, and when duty called him he brought into action those great powers of mind and soul which he so modestly disclaimed. These characteristics, while they made him diffident" ot himself, gave him a wonderful estimate of the faith and practices of the Church, and a dread of evel-ything that sezmed to him to be a departure from.her teachings or a relaxation in her time-honored discipline. He could never become a heretic, for he held too firmly to what he had been taught; he never could become a schismatic, for authority was to him the most sacred thing in the world after his faith; he never could become a sinner, for the shadow of sin was a nightmai.e ~o him. These three things, with his great desire for the honor of God and the salvation of his own and his neighbors' souls, will be seen to have beenthe guiding motiv'es of his life. In a letter to Bishop England, Bishop Flaget wrote of Father Nerinckx" thus: "His love for retirement wa~ such, tl~at" h~. n~ever ~aid a visit of mere Ceremony. Indeed, hi never vis-i~ edl except when the good of his neighbor or the duty of his ministry made it obligatory to do so . Praye~ appeared to be hi~ grea'tes't, and only solace, in the 'midst of his contifiual labors." And this tribute was from.his bishop. The subject of this sket'ch was a man of action as can be seerl "fro~ the variety of his 'undertakings. There remains one point still to be mentioned,, his interest in the civilizing and Christianizing .6f the Indians. ' When ~difficulties arose in Kentuck~y, Father Neririckx felt that pi~rhaps, they i:ould be effectively and. charitably settled by 140. May, 1957 FATHER CHARLES NERINCKX his withdrawal for atime., He was grieved to see unwarranted changes made in the rule of the Sisters of Loretto and in their schools, and he felt greater changes were still to come. If the changes came from Rome he would gladly accept--but how would Rome know the exact state of affairs? His own methods were cast aside for untried ones. Just what the deciding factor was that sent him a second time into exile, this time to Missouri, he never made known; but to Missouri he went. He performed the visitation of the Loretto house in Perry County, then trav-eled to St. Louis to meet and confer with the commissioner of Indian affairs to arrange for some Indian girls to be enrolled with the sisters at Bethlehem, the Perry County foundation.On his return journey to Bethlehem he detoured to minister to a settlement of some ten families who had not seen a priest for two years. After this last act of charity he was taken ill; he died at St. Genevieve, Missouri, on August 12, 1824. He was buried on the 14th in the sisters' cemetery at Bethlehem convent, Bishop Rosati being present and giving the final absolution. Bishop Rosati is r.eported to have said that he consideredFather Nerinckx's remains ~he most priceless treasure of his diocesel Be that as it .may, he refused Bishop Flage~'s and Father Chabrat's petitions 'for the removal of the remains~ yielding only io the diplomacy of the mother superior of Loretto. The re-enterment at Loretto Motherhouse took place in December~ 1833." : Father Nerinckx's major concrete contributions to the up-building of the Church in K.~ntucky were: the administdrin.g of the sacraments td the faithful.throughout' the" region,-th~ build[ ing of houses of worship, the organizing of districts into parishes, th'e c611ecting and. transportation of.,tho,us.ands'6f dollars~ worth of. church supplies and furnishings which he distributed to poor and needy .churches, two journeys to Europe in the interests of the Church' arid the. sist'e'rhbod which h~. h°ad fotinded in Cdn-~ junction with 'Miss Mary Rhodes and.companioris--the Congre-gation of the Sisters of Loretto, the first purely American sister-hood devoted to education founded and continuing without 1.41 SISTER M. MATILDA foreign affiliation. These, directly or indirectly, can be seen. But 0nly' the"angels of God have recorded his prayers, longings, and aspirations and measured his mental and physical sufferings, the dangers he encountered in traversing the wilderness, his penances and mortifications, his dominant virtue of humility, the frustra-tion of his desire to lead the contemplative life. Instances of some of these could be given, but the full import of them is not ours to record. His spirit lives on not alone in the religious congregation of Loretto, but in the faith of the Catholics of Kentucky, a staunch, vibrant, active Catholicity the seeds of which were planted in pioneer days by the saintly. Belgian exile, Rev-erend Charles Nerinckx. SUMMER INSTITUTES The tenth annual Theological Institute for Sisters will be con-ducted under the auspices of St. Xavier College in cooperation with the Dominican Fathers of the Province of St. Albert the Great June 24 to August 2, 1957. The double purpose of the institute is: to contribute to the spiritual development of sisters and to strengthen the preparation of religious who are teachers of religion. The basic curriculum is open to sisters without a bachelor's degree. An advanced program, for those who have completed the basic course, leads to a master's degree from the Dominican House of Studies, River Forest. For a listing of courses write to: St. Xavier College, 103rd and Central Park Avenue, Chicago 43, Illinois. In keeping with ancient Benedictine traditions and the spirit of the modern liturgical revival, St. John's Abbey, internationally known litur-gical and educational center where students may join with the monastic choir 'in chanting the divine office and may take part in solemn liturgical ceremonies, is conducting summer courses in liturgy and Gregorian chant. These courses, supl~lemented with opportunities for study of modern church music hs well as applied music in voice and organ, are designed to assist choir directors and organists in carrying out the in-structions on church music by the present Holy Father a.nd by St. Plus X. For further information write to: Dora Gunther, O.S.B., St. John!s University, Collegeville, Minnesota. (Continued on Page 175) 142 Current: Spiritual W'rit:ing Thomas ~, O'C~lhghan [Most of the readers of RE~tlE\V FOR RELIGIOUS have not the opportunity of keeping up with the numerous articles which are being written on various points of spiritual theology. It is with the intention of trying to supply for this need that we hope to publish about every six months a survey of current periodical literature. This survey will take the form mostly of quotations from, and synopses of, some of the more interesting articles which have appeared recently. For the most par~ the survey will confine itself to English language periodicals.--The Editors.] general. God Within Q. What is your ideal of sanctity? A. To live by love. Q. What is the quickest way to reach it? A. To become ~ery small, to give oneself wholly and irrevocably. Q. Who is your favorite saint? A. The Beloved Disciple, who rested on the heart of his Maste~. Q. What point of the Rule do you like best? A. Silence. Q. What is the dominant trait in your character? A. Sensitivity. What is your favorite virtue? A. Purity. What fault of character do you dislike most? A. Egoism in Q. Give a definition of prayer. A. A union of her who is not with Him who is. Q. What is your favorite book? A. Tire Soul o.f Gkris/. In it I learn all the secrets of the Father who is in heaven. Q. Have you a great longing for heaven? A. I sometimes feel homesick for heaven, but, except for the vision, I possess it in the depths of my soul. Q. What is your motto? A. 'God in me and I in Him.'~ The young Carmelite who filled out this questionnaire in the first week of her postulancy died ~fifty years ago, at ~the age of twenty-six, after just fi.ve years of~ religious life. Her~ name~ was Elizabeth Catez, but she is known today more dommonly as Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity, or Elizabeth"0f Dijon. TO this young and holy Carmelite ig dedicated the .September, 1956, issue of Spiritual Life, the,gery~ fine Catholic quarterly,,published by the Discalced Carrrielite Fathers. ~This questionnaire is quoted'by Fathbr Denis of the Holy Family, O.C.D. in "A Sketch of the Life of Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity," S,~iritual Life, II (1956), 149-150. THOMAS G. 0'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious In "A Sketch of the Life of Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity," the article from which we have taken the above-quoted ques-tionnaire, Father Denis of the Holy Family, O.C.D., gives a fine introduction to the life and doctrine of Sister Elizabeth. A fuller and more theological treatment of her spiritual doctrine he leaves to two other articles, published in the same issue, by E. I. Watkin and Father Gabriel of St. Mary Magdalen, O.C.D. Father Gabriel says of Sister Elizabeth that "she succeeded in con-structing a lucid synthesis of the spiritual life, corhbining . . . [an] intimate life with the Trinity and progressive assimilation to Christ" (p. 174). In fact, we might say that his entire article, "The Indwelling in Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity," is a develop-ment of that proposition. Those who center their spiritual life on the divine indwelling and who desire to live united to God-within will find in this issue of Spiritual Life some fine, spiritually nourishing matter. They will also understand why Sister Elizabeth, who "found he'aven on earth, since heaven is God, and God is in my soul," is rapidly becoming a favorite among contemplative souls. It might also be added here that Elizabeth's "Prayer of a Praise of Glory to the Trinity" (p. 165). contains exce~llent subject matter for mental, prayer. The Saints St. John, recalling his vision of the blessed, wrote: "I saw a great multitude [of the' blessed in heaven] which no man could number . . ." (Apoc, 7:9). In apparent contradiction to these ~vords there appeared in the American Ecclesiastical Review an excellent and. scholarly article, written by Father John F. Bro-derick, s.J., entitled "A Census of the Saints (993-1955).'" How many saints are there? No definitive list has ever been compiled, although biographical dictionaries exist which run to several thousand names; one for Ireland alone claims three -~ Vol. CXXXV (1956), 87-115. 144 May, 1957. SPIRITUAL WRITINGS thousand. Most of these dwelt in the ancient or medieval periods. But before being able to determine the number of saints, ¯ one would first have to clarify the meaning of the word saint, and then establish what authority has the right to recognize sainthood. For up to and even beyond the year 1000 A.D. the power to designate sainthood was not rest6cted to the Holy See, as is now the case, but was left to local ecclesiastical authorities. When this process later found papal approval, explicit or tacit, it became known as equivalent canonization. But by no means all the early saints have won Roman approval; some lack official approbation of any kind. Their title has come by way of popu-lar devotion on the part of the faithful, or is due to the careless-ness or mistakes of those who put together early martyrologies, etc. Hagiography abounds in problems of this kind. The present article, however, restricts itself to those saints solemnly canonized by the popes, the form of canonization with which we are nowadays familiar. A very carefully worked-out chart, the product of considerable research, forms the heart of the article. It enumerates in chronological order--according to the date of death--all formally canonized saints from the time of the first canonization in 993 up to the present. Also noted are: the liturgical classification of each saint, age at death, year of c~inonization, vocational status (laity, secular clergy, religious), principal occupation, and land of birth. The data therein contained are analyzed in the final section of the article and many interesting points are indicated. Canon-ized saints are discovered to ~otal two hundred and eighty-three, Male saints number two hundred and twenty-seven, female fifty-six. Martyrs total sixty-nine. At death ages ranged from eleven to over one hundred. Wide variations can be detected between the date of death and canonization, the periods varying from a few months to six centuries. Well over one half of the canoniza-tions have been delayed two centuries or more, a factor which 145 THOMAS G. O'(~ALLAGHAN Review ]or Religious must be kept in mind in discussing the failure of North America to produce native saints. The laity has produced about one sixth of the saints; the secular clergy, slightly less; religious, the rest. At least thirty-five saints have been married. Of canonized religious about one fifth were women, almost equally divided between contem-platives and active institutes. In external occupations the widest range is visible, from the lowly housekeeper or farm laborer to the emperor and empress. A surprisingly high number, about forty percent, were engaged in governing as civil or ecclesiastical superiors. Founders and foundresses of religious institutes, very prominent in recent can-onizations, total sixty-six saints. More than one half ~he saints have come from the upper class in society; the rest are about equally divided between the" middle class and the numerically vast lower class. Latin coun-tries account for two thirds of the saints, especially Italy with ninety-five and France with fifty-five. Three saints have been born in the Western Hemisphere, but seventeen have labored there. The current trend is toward more frequent canonizations. In the 632 years between the first formal canonization and 1625, when Urban VIII established the modern regulations, the aver-age was fourteen per century; since then it has risen to sixty. Father Broderick, s.J., made mention of the different social classes of the saints. Another article has appeared recently which throws some light on this subject. Those familiar with second nocturns are well acquainted with parenlibus who were either nobilibus or honestis or pauperibus. But they may not be sure of the precise meaning of these terms. Father Bull0ugh, O.P., writing primarily about Dominican saints in "'Class Dis-tin~ tion Among the Saints," an article which appeared in the August, 1956, issue of Life of the Spirit, helps to clarify the ma, tter. He suggests that these three words designate three 146 May, 19,67" SPIRITUAL WRITINGS distinct social classes and that these social classes in turn. were largely based, at least originally, on occupations. The nobiles were those who had money and property andwere employers; the honesti were merchants or artisans, mostly self~employed, who made a living at thei~r~ own particular work or trade; the pauperes were wage earners, obtaining their money by working for some-one else. (If that is so, it is going to be difficult to find any saints who were born, as the pleasantry has it, of paltperibus sed honestis parentibus.) ~. Liturgy in School Under the 'title, "Toward a Living Parish," Mongignor Martin B. Hellriegel frequently contributes to Worship a serids of' practical suggestions for increasing the li~ur'gical life pa~:ish. His excellent suggdstions, however, need not be limited to the parish ch'urch. Man~, of them could--by a little imagina-tive adaptation--prove most hi.-lpful to Catholic school teachers; even college professors. At times teachers would like to make a few interesting remarks to their classes about some liturgical feast which the Church is celebrating, or they may be looking for ideas as to how the students might celebrate in their school some of the more important feasts. Very often they will find in Monsignor Hellriegel's articles exactly what they are looking for. For example, in the October, 1956, issue of Worship he comments on some of the feasts which occur during that month. He opens the article with some reflections on the feast of the Guardian Angels, offering fine matter which could be used for a talk of three or four minutes to Catholic students. Then he makes some practical points about the way that this feast could be celebrated in the parish. One or two of these points could easily be used by teachers for school. The next feast on which he com'ments is 6ur Lady's Maternity, celebrated on the eleventh of October. This is a much more deeply signifidant "Mother,s Da~,'; than the second Sunday in May. What afine point that would make in talking 147 THOMAS G. 0'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious to children: our Lady's "Mother's Day." Is it not true that many parochial school teachers could easily pass over this feast without even a mention of it? For the feast of St. Luke, October 17, there is a very simple suggestion for a reverent display of the Holy Gospel. This cbuld be used to remind the students not only of "the holiness and dignity of the Gospel, and of the respect we owe to it, but also of our indebtedness to the holy evangelists . . . who have recorded for us the 'God spell,' the good tidings of the life and teaching of our Lord Jesus Christ" (p. 573). Today Halloween is too often identified with "trick or treat" or vandalism. Monsignor explains the original spirit be-hind the festivities held on the eve of All Saints, or Hallow's" Eve (from which is derived the word Hallo,ween). Just the explanation which he gives would be an enlightenment to so many Catholic school children. There are also detailed sugges-tions for the celebration of this feast in a parish, some of which could profitably be adapted for school use. If Catholic school teachers could find the time to glance through "Toward a Living Parish" whenever it appears,' they would surely find some helpful matter for their classroom. Prayer In Life of the Spirit Dora Aelred Sillem, O.S.B., has an interesting article on the relation between liturgical and con-templative prayer.:' Many feel that there is a certain conflict be-tween contemplative and liturgical prayer, that they even attract different temperaments and distinguish vocations. It must be admitted that some divergence does exist: there is the tendency of contemplative prayer to simplicity, while the liturgy has a certain "surface multiplicity . . . with its complexities of cere-monial and chanti its elaborate and absorbing symbolism, its richness of doctrinal content and conceptual teaching" (p. 209}. :l"The Liturgy and Contemplative Prayer," Id.[~' o, l/re Sp]ril, XI (1956), 209-217. 148 May, 1957 SPIRITUAL WRITINGS Yet, if we consider the historical relation between the liturgy and mental prayer, it will become evident that they have long existed together with mutual dependence. The primitive liturgy allowed of pauses for silent prayer, of which our [lectam'us genua and levate are a token survival to which the restored Holy Week liturgy has given back a measure of reality; and Cassian, describing the psalmody of the Egyptian monks, ~hows us how, after each psalm or section of a psalm, a pause was made for private and wordless prayer. In ancient and medieval monastic life, the hours of lectio divina, continuous in theme and sources with the liturgy, were intended to be hours of prayer as well as of study. Towards the end of the Middle Ages, partly perhaps as the more scientific and metaphysical study of theology replaced the older, more devotional and more readily prayerful lectio divina, provision was made, both among monks and friars, for set periods of mental prayer; and this obligation has passed into canon law and into the constitutions of all religious families . At all times, vocal liturgical prayer has been nourished by and overflowed into solitary and wordless.prayer (pp. 215-216). Not only has there been this historical mutual relationship, but the very natures of liturgical and contemplative prayer show their close interdependence. Thus, the author concludes his article with these words: "It is essential to consider liturgical prayer and mental prayer, not as competitors, still less as alterna-tives, but as two indispensable expressions of a single life of prayer in Christo, accepting their diversity not as a tension or a problem, but as an enrichment, convinced of their mutual dependence and of their power to deepen each other indefinitely" (p. 217). Our Lady's Titles Father Gerald Vann, O.P., has a few suggesti6ns--and he insists that they are nothing more than suggestions--about the way that some of the titles of our Blessed Mother in the "Litany of our Lady" might be more fittingly translated.4 Many titles in the Litany are "either poor translations or indeed downright mistranslation~, or at any rate show a lamentable lack of any sense of language, any feeling for the beauty of words" (p. 438). Here are some of the present tittles put side by side with "Notes on Our Lady's Litany," Worship, XXX (1956), 437-441. 149 THOMAS°G. 0'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious some of Father Vann's suggested changes: Mother most amiable --Mother so lovablei Mother inviolate--Mother ever a Maiden; Mother most pure~--Mother of .perfect love; Holy Virgin of virgins--Holiest of all virgins; Virgin most vener, able--Virgin.whom we revere; Virgin most renowned--Virgin whose praises' ,~e sing; Seat of wisdom--Fountain of wisdom; St~iritual vessel--Chalice~ of spiritual life; Singular vessel of dev'otion--Splendid chalice o.f dedication. Father Vann not ohly suggests these and other new translations, but also e~pl~ins in his. brief article the reasons why these new 'titles could be justified as prdferable. Certainly r~an.~, of the chan~es suggeste'd are more ineaningful, as well.as being more beautifully phrased, and would thereby be helpful in our "Litany devotion. The Creation and Fall Those who teach Christian doctrine, whether in the grades, higl~ s.chool, or college, have undoubtedly found many problems in t.ryin, g t.o~interpret the sci:iptural account of the cr~eation of the world ,.and man, of the .origin of woman, of the first, sin, etc. For the first three chapters of Genesis, in which these matters occur, are one of the most difficult sections of the Bible.' But Father "H. J.: Richards, although fully appreciating the difl~- cuities, believes that it is possible to say something worthwhile on ~hese first three chapters and on the essential matter which they contain', without getting hopelessly enmeshed in exegetical difficulties. He fulfills this purpose in "The Creation and the Fall," a very brief but solid and interesting article ap.pefiring in the October, 1956, number of Scripture. The ,author of Genesis, Father Richards insists, was not a scientist. He was ,"concerned with .God's plans for the world and for mankind. He does not set out to teach us natural sciences. He has quite enough to do to teach us our super. natural science, of the one supreme God to whom everything owes it's existence, of man's place in God's scheme, of man's dignity an&his failure to live up to it, and of God's love for him '1'50 May, 1957 SPIRITUAL WRITINGS even in his sin" (p. 114).~ Father Richards shows very clearly how the author of Genesis attains this purpose. Let us give here an example of the refreshing way that Father writes on this matter. After explaining the account of the Creation as it appears in Chapter i, he goes on to write: And if there is a different account of creation in.Chapter 2, with man placed first on the list instead of last, don't let us get so excited over the difference that we forget to see the same point being made, that man cannot be lumped along with ~he rest of creatures. He is unique, and the rest is made for him. And if this time the 'whole story 'is more pic-turesque, with a Divine Potter modelling man with His own hands and breathing into him His own breath, don't let us be so prosaic about it that we miss the main point: man~s unique relationship with God. And if that relationship is illustrated even further by" the garden in which God walks with Adam in the cool 6f the evening, don't let us try ko find the garden on a map. Could anyone have devised a more dramatic way of presenting the clos2 intimacy with himself that God had planned for man from the beginning? It is we who hav~rfiade up the myth of an Old Testament God of thunder and terror and fear. It is not so in Genesis {p. 112}. After the creation of the universe and of man, Father Richards goes on in the same graphic way to explain the origin of woman and the place intended for her by God, the dignity of marriage, the fall of man, and God's love for him even in his sin. This short article is well worth reading. Spiritual Theology Series In th~ September, 1956, issue of Cross and Crown there begins a "series of articles which will explain the meaning and problems of. spiritual theology, or, if you wish, of the interior supernatural life of the Christian" (p. 252). The general title for this series will be "Spirituality for All," The first article, written by Father John L. Callahan, O.P., the editor of Cross and Crown, emphasized "the necessity of growth in charity" (p. 252), for it is in this charity, this l~abit of divine love, that per-fection essentially consists. From this beginning~ the series will proceed as follows to explain I) The foundations of this growth. Divine life is communicated to man through grace, the seed of glorj~ to possess grace necessarily~ im-plies the possession of the theological virtues of faith and,hope: . THOMAS G. 0'CALLAGHAN Review for Religious 2) The cause of growth. Charity is the form, the life, the mover of all the virtues. In the words of St. Francis of Sales: 'A perfect life means perfect charity, for charity is the life of the soul.' 3) The models of growth. Christ is our perfect exemplar of charity, and His Blessed Mother a mirror of that model. 4) The instruments of growth. Divine life is communicated to man through the sacrarhents. 5) The first instrument of growth. This is the healing and cleans-ing work of the divine tool of baptism by which man is incorporated in Christ. 6) The aids to growth. Christ instituted the sacrament of penance to restore divine life lost bymortal sin. With this is coordinated the practice of mortification. 7)' The Mass, a means of growth. The Holy Sacrifice lived by as-pirants to a perfect life is a powerful instrument of spiritual progress. ~ 8) Holy Communion is the food for growth in spirituality, uniting the soul most intimately to the Source of grace and charity. 9) Signs of growth can be the advancement in both the spiritual and corporal works of mercy. 10) The steps of growth through the process of purgation to 1 I) The fruition, which is contemplation, or the actual experience of the divine indwelling (pp. 252-253). Religious in a Diocese The editorial in the December, 1956, issue of Spiritual Life says: "The total function of every Catholic diocese in the world is to gather together as many men as possible into the life of Christ, and commit them to His mission. To do this with maximal efficiency, it needs the unified, intelligent, complemen-tary, planned activity of parishes and religious orders" (p. 201). What contribution can religious institutes make to this total function of the diocese? Father James Egan, O.P., gives the answer in "A Religious Order and the Spiritual Life of a Dio-cese" (pp. 217-226). "The purpose of this article is to explore other [i.e. than schools and parishes] possible services that a religious order or its members can render to the spiritual life of a diocese" (p. 219). If.such is the purpose of this article, it should be of interest to religious. Let us see very briefly some of the contributions which Father Egan believes a religious institute could and should make for the spiritual service of a diocese. 152 May, 1957' SPIRITUAL WRITINGS The first two immedi~lte fruits which should come to a diocese from the presence of a religious foundation within it are: first, the life of prayer and mortification of the religious should draw down God's rich blessings upon all the ~nembers of the diocese, bishop, priests, and parishioners; secondly., the manifest sp.iritual joy and.peace of religious should be a con-stant lesson to all who come in contact with them that true peace and happiness can be found in this world, provided it" is not sought from the world. Some religious .institutes, like the Benedictines, can offer to the faithful, especially those who have grown to appreciate the place of the liturgy in their life, the occasion of assisting, at the liturgy in all its full splendor. Other religious aid the spir-itual life of a diocese by communicating their spiritual treasures to the faithful by means of third orders. Closely linked "to this latter is the practice of spiritual direction. Many diocesan, priests, because of other spiritual demands, simply have not the time which would be required for the spiritual direction of those parishioners who would request and/or need it. Religious foun-dations in a diocese, however, would mean for the laity a greater Opportunity for that spiritual direction which is so necessary for Christian perfection. Among the other activities frequently carried on by religi-ous in a diocese are those of the parish mission, directed primarily perhaps to the conversion of sinners, and the retreat, usually aimed more at the nourishment of a ~ieeper spiritual life. The healthy spread and growth of the retreat movement, carried on mostly by religious groups, has done much for the spiritual life of the faithful in many American dioceses. There is also the c6ntribution Which religious are making in many dioceses of making "available to the. !aity a more intimate acquaintance with theology a~d philosophy as these are linked up with the cult'ural life of the modern world" (p. 224). In this intellectua'l field '~h~re could also be mentioned the help 153 THOMAS G. O'CALLAGHAN .which~ many religious groups, ~particularly the Paulists, can offer by way of convert instruction. '~ Las.tly, it will do well to recall--although it might seem strange --that the presence in the diocese of those religious institutes who have members in the mission field means an opportunity for the faithful of a diocese to offer both men and support to the mission-ary activity of the Church. That is a blessing not merely for the religious insti~tites, but for the diocese as well. "Each religious group," concludes Father Egan, "has its own contribution to make; yet" each must not insist on i~s own good to the detriment of the common good of a diocese, which is in the care of the bishop: ~On the other hand, the bishop must respect the distinctive character of the religious groups in his diocese. With such mutual respect, the common good of all the faithful will" always be served by the united efforts of dios-cesan and religious priests" (p. "22'6). DELAYED VOCATIONS Spiritual directors who are asked about religious orders or con-gregations of sisters that have the policy of accepting older women are frequently at a loss as to where to direct these applicants for further information. If orders or congregations which have such a policy will send their title and address, the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS may be able to publish a°list in a subsequent issue. The age limitatioi~s for admit-tance should be specified as well as whether the foliowing classes of women are accepted: widows, married women who ard legally sep-arated permanently with ecclesiastical permission, those who have been ifivalidly married in the past but who have sincerely amended their lives and would-now like to enter the dbnvent. GUIDANCE FOR RELIGIOUS It seems that some who were planning on. using, Guidance for 'Rel,glous, b~,' ~ath~r Gerald Keily, S.J'.~, insummer sessmns ai'e w'on~ . dering, whether they may gtill obtain copies. F6r~kheir information;~we should like to say ~hat the second p~iht~ng of the book is now com-. pleted, and it may be obtainefl~from The Newman Press, Westminster, 154 Apost:at:es and 'Fugi!:ives I. Definition of Apostasy and Flight 1. Definition of apostasy (c. 644, ~ !). ApOstates and fugitives leave religion voluntarily but illicitly, pe~manentiy in the case of the apostate, temporarily in that of ~the fugitive. Both' me~ and women may be apostates or fugitives. Aft ~ipostate from religion is a professed of perpetual vows who either leaves or remains outside of every house of his institute without any valid permission, and manifests externally, either explicitly or impliC-itly, the absolute intention of never returning to any house of his institute. (a) Perpetual vows are necessary, Novices~ and postulant~ can-not be apostates. They are also free to leave religion at any time. A professed of temporary vows cannot be an apostate; nor is he a fugitive if he leaves religion with the expressed inten-tion of not returning, since a fugitive is one who has the inten-tion of returning (cc. 19; 2219, § 3). Solemn vows are always perpetual; but perpetual simple vows, whether in an order or a congregation, also suffice for apostasy. (b) Illicit absence required. The illicit absence necesgary for apbs-tasy is verified by leaving the religious house without any valid permission (explicit, implicit, presumed, tacit, particular, general) or, if one h~s permission to go out, by ~remaii~ing outside the house beyond the length of any valid permission. The re!igiou~ must be illicitly outside any house of his institute, e: g., ~a religious who goes to another .house of his own institute without any permission does not verify the illicit absence demanded for apostasy. (c) Intention of never returning required. "Apostasy demands that religious obedience be cast off completely and not merely to a particular superior or superiors. The ~intention'~ therdfore must be not to return to any hous~ of his institute. The inten- 155 JOSEPH F. ~ALLEN Review for Religious tion ,must also be absolute, not conditional. For example, a religiou~ who has the intention of not returning to his institute unless he is transferred to another house has a conditional, .not an absolute, intention and is not an apostate. He is an apostate as soon as his intention becomes absolute. This intention must be externally manifested. The external manifestation may be by any means sufficient to express an intention of ihe will," e. g., orally, in writing, by gestures, or facts. The intention is manifested explicitly if th~ religious states orally or in writing that he is leaving the institute forever. It is mani-fested implicitly by any fact that implies the intention of leaving the institute forever, e. g., if he attempts or contracts marriage, assume~ a permanent employment, begins a course of ,studies, or has all his personal belongings sent to him. (d) Presumption of such an intention (c. 644, ~ 2)- If there is no certain proof that the religious has ,manifested, this inten-tion, he is p~Tesumed to have done so and to be an apostate after an illicit absence of one month, ,e. g., January. 12-February 13, provided he has not actually returned during this time nor mani-fested to his superior the intention =of returning. Ii~ in these circumstances hE claims that ~he was not an apostate,, he will have to prove his assertion by establishing the lack of at ieast one ~f the essential elements of apostasy, e. g., that he was not absent illici.tly, that he did not express the intention, of. not returning, or .th.at he was-physically or morally unable to return or correspond with his superior. 2. Definition of flight (c. 644, §-3).~ A fugitive is a .professed religigus of either perpetual or temporary vows' or a member of a' society without .public vows in which common life is a grave obligation who: 1° either leaves or actually remains outside every house, of.his institute without .any valid permission beyond three complete ~days or. e'xtemally, manifests, eXplicitl~ or im-plicitly, the intention 'of.prolong!ng his absence for .this same time; 2° ~but with tbe~ intention of returning to at least some 156 May, 1957 APOSTATES AND FUGITIVES house of his institute. An~ professed, oeven of only temporary vows, can be a fugitive. The concepts of leaving or remaining outside without any valid permission are to be understood in the same sense as explained above for an apostate. (a) Beyond three full days. An apostate intends to sever him-self completely from religious obedience, and it is therefore required that he externally manifest the intention of never re-turning to his institute. A fugitive is one who intends to with-draw himself from religious obedience for a notable period of time. This intention also must be externally manifested. There-fore, flight is verified at any moment in an illicit absence that the religious manifests explicitly or implicitly the intention of pro-tracting such an absence for a notable period. Common opinion determines this period as beyond three full days, .e.g., if begun on Monday, the notable absence i~ attained on Friday. The sole fact of an illicit absence beyond three full days is an implicit manifestation of the intention of withdrawing from religious obedience for a notable period of time. However, since many au'thors demand an actual illicit absence beyond three days for flight and say nothing of the case of an intention of notable absence, the crime of flight is not ~certainly vei'ified and the pe'nalties are not incurred unless the illicit "absence is actually prolonged beyond three cJays. When' the'intention or actual absence is for a less~r period, even if for a seriously sinful pur-pose, the case is not consi'dered one of flight but of a mere illicit or furtive departure from religion. (b) With the intention of returning. It is presumed, that the religious has this intention of returning unless he manifests externally the intention of never returning, in which case his intention is that of an apostate. It i~, thdrefore, not ndk~ssary to manifest externally khe~intention of returning, which is' con-tained in the intention of depaFting from the ifistitute' only ]~or a time. If his intention is' never to return to a partidulaF house or houses but to return to at least some hohse of his institute, his in~tehtion is still that~ of a fugitive and 'not o'f an apostate. 1.57 JOSEPH F. GALLEN, Review for Religious Apostasy is not a partial but a complete severance of religious obedience. II. Canonical Penalties for Apostasy and Flight 3. For apostasy (c. 2385). (a) Excommunication. An apostate incurs ipso facto an excommunication reserved to his own higher superior if the delinquent is a member of a clerical exempt institute or to the ordinary of the place where the absolution from the excommunication is given ff the delinquent is a mem-ber' of any other type of institute. (b) Prohibition of legitimate ecclesiastical acts (c. 2256, 2°). An apostate incurs ipso facto an exclusion from the licit exercise of legitimate ecclesiastical, acts. The more general and prac-tical prohibitions of this penalty are that the religious may not licitly exercise the administration of ecclesiastical property as a superior, treasurer, or member of a council, vote in an ecclesias-tical election, or be a sponsor in baptism or confirmation. This penalty remains after his return and after an absolution from the excommunication, but a local or religious ordinary can dis-pe. nse from it in virtue of c. 2237 in either public or occult cases. In more urgent occult cases confessors can suspend the penalty if it cannot be observed without scandal or infamy. They must impose' the obligation of having rec6urse within a month to the Sacred Penitentiary or the ordinary and of observing the man-dates of either (c. 2290, § 1). In an extraordinary case when recourse is impossible, the confessor can dispense and give the mandates himself according to the norm' of c. 2254, ~ 3 (c. 2290, § 2). (c) Privation of privileges. An apost~ite incurs ipso facto a privation of the valid use of all privileges granted by the Holy See to religious in ge.neral and to his own institute, e. g., exemp-tion, indulgence~s. It is probable that he is not deprived of suffrages, since these are not a privilege. This penalty, also remains, as ab. ove, but can be dispensed by a local or religious 158 May, 1957 APOSTATES AND FUGITIVES ordinary., The power of the confessor is the same. (d) Perpetual loss of active and passive voice. If he returns, the apostate is perpetually del~rived of active and passive voice. Therefore, he is deprived perpetually of the right of voting val-idly in any electoral chapter, whether general, provincial, or local, and of the right of receiving validly any offce that is con-ferred by election. He can receive an office that is conferred by appointment, and a religious woman retains the right of voting for the prolongation of the term of the ordinary confessor (c. 526). This .penalty also remains after the absolution from the excommunication. In occult cases it can be dispensed "by the local or religious ordinary, but in publii: cases only by the Holy' See (c. 2237, ~ 1, 3°). The power of the ~onfessor is the same as above. Religious ordinaries can have the po~er of dispens-ing from this penalty in public casek in virtue of a privilege possessed by their institute.' (e) To be otherwise punished by superiors. Canon 2385 com-mands that a returned apostate be otherwise punished by his loc~,l or higher superiors in conformity with the constitutions and in accordance with the gravity of his crime. If any such ferendae senten/iae danonical penalties are prescribed in the constitutions of a clerical exempt .in.stitute, the superior is. ordi-narily obliged to inflict them buts'according to the norms of c. 2223, ~ 3. If" canonical penalties are not so pi'escrilSed; the superiors of the same institutes cain iriflicto canonical penalties, penances, and penal remedies when scandal or special ~ra¢ity was ~erified in the transgression, according~ to the norm of c. 2222, ~ 1. Superiors in other institutes c~ln inflict only the ordinary and private penances in use in the par'ticu[ar institute. ¯ .4. For flight (c. 2386). (a) General suspension. A religious fugitive who is a .priest, deacQn, or subdeacon ind[urs by" the ve.ry ~fact of.t0e.flight a gener~! suspe~ns!on that'~is reserved i,n.:,,exa~ct!y ~Cf. Riesner, /ll~ostates attd Vugitfiw's, /rom "Religious lnstitittes,~91; Jone, :Commentariura in Codicem luris Canonici.'.III, 553; ~Cloran, Pre~ie~'s.an,t Prac-tical Cases, 296. i;59 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious the same way as the excommunication for apostasy explained above. The suspension and other punishments of this canon certainly "extend also to thd clerical and lay members of clerical societies 'without public vows. It is probable that c. 2386 does not extend to lay societies without public' vows, since the Code Commission applies it explicitly only to clerical societies and the canon itself speaks of a religious fugitive. Therefore, in fact the canon does not extend to lay societies (cc. 19; 2219, § 1).~ (b) Privation of office. A fugitive incurs ipso facto the pri: ration of any office that he may hold in religion. Office is to be taken in a wide sense and, consequently, includes-that of pastor, parochial vicar, of any sup.erior, whether general, provincial, Or local, of any councilor or treasurer, master or assistant master of novices, of junior p3ofessed, tertians, general or prox(incial sec-retary, principal of a school, director of studies or schools.3 The fugitive is" deprived of all offices he now holds but is not rendered incapable of being elected or appointed to the same or different offices in the future. Since' it is a question of office in the wid~ sense (c. 145), this penalty can be dispensed by the local or religious ordinary,t The power of the confessor is the same as above. (c) To be otherwise punished on his return. Canon 2386 com-mands that the punishments prescribed in the constitutions for returned fugitives be inflicted; and, if the constitutions prescribe nothing on the matter, the higher superior is to inflict punish-ments according to the gravity of the offense. If any ferendae sentenliae canonical penalties are prescribed for flight in the constitutions of a clerical exempt institute, the superior designated in the constitutions is ordinarily obliged to inflict these penalties, ~ Bouscaren, Canon Law Digest, I, 330; Cappello, De Censuris, n. 539; Beste, lntroductio in Codicem, 968; Cocchi, Commentarium in Codicem luris Canonlci, VIII," n. 262; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome luris Cano.nici, III, n. 590; Jone, op. cir., III, 555; Schaefer, De Religlosis, n. 1565; Wernz-Vidal, lus Canonicum, VII, n. 521. z Cf. Coronata, Institutiones'luris Canonici, IV, n. 2191; Riesner, op. cir., 102. 4Cloran, op. cir., 86; 204-05. 160 May, 195"; APOSTATES AND FUGITIVES but according to the norms of c. 2223, §. 3. If canonical penal-ties are not so prescribed, the higher superior of the same insti-tutes can inflict canonical penalties, penances, and penal rem-edies when scandal or special gravity was verified in the trans-gression, according to the norm of c. 2222, ~ 1. Higher superi-ors in other institutes can inflict only the ordinary and private penances in use in the particular institute. III. The Obligations of Apostates and Fugitives (c. 645, .~ 1) 5. Apostates and fugitives are freed from none of the obliga-tions of their institute aild are consequently obliged by its vows, Rule, constitutions,~ordinances, and customs. They have a seri-ous obligation in conscience to return as soon' as is morally possible to their institute. To be worthy of sacramental absolu-tion, they must actually return, sincerely intend to return, or at least sincerely intend to submit themselves to the directions of their superiors. If the apostate or fugitive considers that he can no longer fulfill the obligations of the religious life, theforinali-ties necessary for an indult of secularization are to be initiated. If the return of the culpable religious involves grave inconveni-ence, superiors may permit him to remain outside religion until the ,indult of secularization has been obtained.~ These same obligations.are true of a professed of temporary vows who illicitly leave~ or remains outside his institute with the intention of never returning, even0though canonically he is neither an apostate nor a fugitive. IV. Obligations of Superiors with regard to Apostates and Fugitives (c. 645, ~ 2) . 6. Obligations. All the superiors of the apostate or fugitive but primarily the immediate higher superior are obliged to find him, effect his return, and receive him back if he is. sincerely repen-tant. This ,obligation in the case of an apostate or fugitive nun falls on the local ordinary of her monastery. From charity the ~Cf. Creusen, Religious Men and PVomen in the Code, n. 342; Bastien, Dir,'ctoire Canoniqu~', n. 622; Jombart, Trait/ de Droit Canonique, I, n. 909. 161 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious ordinary of the place .where she is s.taying should give l~is assis-tance as also any other local or~linary whose efforts can be help-ful. If the monastery is subject in fact to regulars, the obliga-tion extends cumulatively also to the regular superior. Superiors may fulfill this obligation personally or through another. At times, another religious, a priest, friends, or relatives may have greater influence with the offender. Superiors, especially of religious women, will frequently be compelled to deal with the delinquent through another to avoid the danger of scandal to the laity or of infamy to the institute. The seeking of the offender is always to be done with prudence and charity, i. e., with the avoidance of scandal, infamy, or hardship to either the delin-quent or the institute. Since no time is prescribed by canon law, the obligation of seeking apostates and f, ugiti.ves binds only when and as long as there is probable hope that the offender will amend and return. 7. Repentant delinquent. The institute is obliged to take back the apostate or fugitive only if he is sincerely repentant, . The institute has the right of proving the sincerity of his repentance on his return by a period of trial. If sincere repentance is lack-ing, .the superior should .counsel the religious to ask for an indult of secularization or, if he will not do this, begin the. formalities of a dismissal, If he appears repentant but his return and pres-ence can be a cause of trouble to the institute and superiors find serious difficulty/ in receiving him back, they may present the facts of the c~.se to the Sacred Congregation of Religious and await its decision.~ - ~" 8. Delinquent unwilling to return. If the apostate or fugitive is. unwilling ~0 return, superiors should ounsel him;to ask for an i"nduit of secularization; if he will not do thi~, the~) are to ~'resort to dismissal. A religious ~of temporary vows who is.a fugi-tive or' who illicitly leaves or remains outsidd the' institute with the intention of never returning may be dismissed because of this one act. His action is a crime or equivalenyly such and is of greater import tha,n.the "serious reason demanded in c. 647. 162 May, 1957 APOSTATES AND FUGITIVES Superiors are to judge fro~ the culpability of this act, the type of religious life he had lived in the past, hope of amendment, scandal .given, harm or inconvenience to the institute in retaining him, and from other pertinent circumstances whether he should be dismissedfl V. Dismissal of a Professed of Perpetual Vows for Apostasy or Flight 9. For apostasy. The supposition is that superiors have striven to effect the return of the delinquent and he will not return. He is then to be counselled to ask for an indult of secularization. If he will not do this, superiors are to begi~n the admonitions neces-sary for dismissal. It is the common opinion that the dismissal of an apostate should not be done with precipitation and by merely fulfilling the letter of the law, i. e., by giving the first admonition at once, the second three day.s later, and then after an interval of six days forwarding the matter to the competent authority for .dismissal. One or two authors even state that three months should be allowed to elapse before the formalities of dismissal are begun. This appears to be an exaggeration of a somewhat similar norm that existed before the code. It would be prudent to allow abotit two months to elapse between the crime and the completion of the formalities requisite for dis° missal.7 An admonition lookii~g to dismissal may also be given to a repentant apostate or fugitive who has returned to his insti-tute, since his crime furnishes the basis for an admonition,s 10. For flight. The supposition i~ the same as in the preceding paragraph; and the same recommendation of a space of" about two months applies here also, particularly since flight is a lesser crime than apostasy. Frequently, therefore, the religious will be presumed to be an apostate, because an illicit absence of a month gives the presumption of apostasy. If the religious will not °Cf. Palombo, De Dimissione Reli#iosorum, n. 153, 4. 7 Cf. Larraona, Commentarittm Pro Reli#iosis, 4-1923-178. 8Cf. cc. 649-651, § 1; 656 Goyen~che, De Relioiosis, 203. 163 JOSEPH F. GALLEN petition an indult of secularization, the formalities of a dismissal are to be begun. VI. Support and Dowry of an Apostate or Fugitive 1 i. The Code of Canon Law does not oblige the institute to sup-port an apostate or fugitive. Such support may be given, espe-cially when it will aid or effect the return of the delinquent. It would often serve only to prolong the absence. The institute has no obligation to give a charitable subsidy to a religious woman except when the religious wishes to return but~ superiors do not wish to receive her back because of scandal, harm, or hardship, and the delinquent is forced to'live outside religion until she obtains an indult of secularization or the case is settled by the Holy See.~. The capital sum of the dowry is to be returned to a pro-fessed religious, woman who definitively leaves the institute, licitly or illicitly, whether her vows have been dispensed or not (c. 551, ~ 1). A fugitive from religion is only temporarily absent from her institute and therefore the dowry is not to be restored to her. Since c. 551, ~ 1, makes no distinction between a licit and illicit definitive departure, it is the more'probable opinion that the dowry should be restored to an apostate religious woman when it is certain that she will not return. It is also probable that the institute is not obliged to return the dowry until the apostate is secularized or dismissed, .since mere apostasy does not canon-ically and completely sever the apostate from her institute. The same doctrine is to be affirmed of a religious woman of tempor~ary vows who.illicitly leaves, or remains outside of the institute with the intention of not returning, even though canonically she is neither an apostate nor a fugitive. 9Cf. Riesner, 0,~. ciL, 134-35. 164 PRAYER FOR RELIGIOUS VOCATIONS [In the Vatican daily newspaper, Osser~,atore Romano, for February 7, 1957, there appeared the text of a prayer personally composed by the Holy Father for vocations to the religious life. The prayer has been enriched by His Holiness with the following indulgences: ten years each time it is recited and a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions, provided the prayer has been said daily for an entire month (AAS, February 27, 1957, p. 101). A translation of the prayer from the original Italian text follows:] Lot:d Jesus Christ, sublime m~del of all perfection, who not only unceasingly invite privileged souls to tend towards the loftiest of goals, but who also move them by the powerful force of Your example and the efficacious impulse of Your grace to follow You on so exalted a path, grant that many may know Your sweet inspirations and respond to them by embracing the religious state, there to enjoy Your special care and Your tender love. Grant that there may never be lacking the religious who, as the messenger of Your love, may represent You day. and night beside .the cradle of the orphan, at the bed of the suffering, and near the old and the infirm who perhaps otherwise would have no one on this earth to stretch to them a hand of pity~ Grant too that in the lowliest school as in the greatest cathedrdl there 'should always sound a voice which is an echo of Your own and which teaches the way to heaven and the duties proper to each human person; and grant that no country, however ~backward and remoLe, be deprived of the call of the Gospel inviting all peoples to enter Your kingdom. Grant that there may be multiplied and increased those flames by which the world may be further set on fire. and in which shines forth in all its splendor the spotless holiness of Your Church. Grant also that in every regiofi there may flourish gardens of elect souls who by their contemplation and their penance repair the faults of men and implore Your mercy. And grant that through the continual immolation of such hearts, through the snow-whi~e ptirity of such souls, and through the exdellence of their virtue, there may always be here on earth'a perfect and living e~ample of those children of God whom you came to reveal. Send to these battalions of your chosen ones numerous and good vocations, souls firmly determined to make themselves worthy of. such a signal grace and of the institute to which they aspire and to a~chieve this by the exact ,observance 'of their religious duties, by assiduous pr.ayer, by,constant mortification,, and by the perfect adherence of their will to Your will. Enlighten, Lord Jesus, many generous souls with the.glowing light of the Holy Spirit who is substantial and eternal love; and by the powerful" intercession of Your loving Mbther Mary enkiridle and keep burning the fire of Your charity, to the glory of the Father and of the same Spirit, who live and.reign with You, world with6ut end. Amen. 165 Survey ot: Roman Documen!:s R. I::. Smit:h, S.J. IN THE present article those documents will'be ~urveyed which appeared in /lcta ./tpostolicae Sed~is (AAS) be-tween October 1, 1956, and December 31, 1956. Accord-in~ gly, all references throughout the article are to AAS of 1956 (v. 48). Crusade for Peace It is rare indeed when over a two-week period three en-cyclicals appear in rapid succession; but this is what happened between October 28, 1956, and November 5, 1956, when events in Hungary and the Middle East p'rompted the Vicar of Christ to publish for the entire world three encyclicals. The first, pub-lished on October 28, 1956 {'AAS, pp. 741-744), consists of a plea for all true Christians to unite in a crusade of prayer for the people of Hungary and for the other peoples of Eastern Europe who are deprived of religious and civ.il liberties. The Pontiff especially p;,.~.~s that those in their early youth join this crusade of prayer for peace, for, as His Holiness says, "We put great trust especially in their supplications." The second en-cyclical was i,ssued on November 2, 1956 (AAS pp. 745-748); in it Plus XII first gives thanks to God for the appearance of what would seem to be a new era of peace through justice .in Poland and Hungary; then he turns to consider the flame of another warlike situation in the Middle East; hence he u~ges that the crusade of prayer be continued that the grave" problems confronting the world today be solved not by the way of violence but by the way of justice. The third of the encyclicals, dated November 5, 1956 (AAS, pp. 748-749), laments the new servi-tude imposed on the Hungarian people by force of foreign arms, warns ~the oppressors that the blood of the Hungarian people cries to the Lord, and urges all Christians to join together in 166 ROMAN DOCUMENTS prayer for those who have met death' in the recent painful events of Hungary. Five days later on November 10, 1956 (AAS, pp. 787- 789), the Holy Father continued his work for peace by broad-casting a message to all the nations and leaders of the world. His speech was an anguished plea for peace and freedom and concluded with the prayerful hope that the name of God may, as a synonym for peace and liberty, be a standard for all men of good will and a bond between all peoples and nations. The Vicar of Christ's plea for a crusade of prayer leads naturally to a consideration of what he had to say on the sub-ject of the apostolate of prayer when addressing the directors of the Apostleship of Prayer on S~ptember 27, 1956 (AAS, pp. 674-677). The apostolate of prayer, says the Pope, is a form of apostolic endeavor that is open to literally every ChriS-tian, no matter what his state or condition may be; nor can th6se who are engaged in an active apostolic life neglect the apostolate of prayer; for actmn must be rooted in a spirit of prayer and of virtue. All Christians, therefore, are urged to practice the apos-tolate of prayer; and it is the hope of the Supreme Pontiff that they do so by membership in the Apostleship 6f Pr~yer since this association teaches its members.to do all for the salvation of the world and to draw ever closer to the Heart of Christ. As air penetrates and joins all things, concludes Pius XII, so too the Apostleship of Prayer should be an-exercise common to all the apostolic works of the entire Church. Liturgy and Worship ~'One o'f the most important documents issued during the last months of 1956 wa~ the teXg of th.e address delivered by His ~Holiness on .September 22, 1956 (AASI pp. 71,.i-725), to the International CongreSs. of Pastora! ~Liturgy. The Holy Father .first, considers the relations that exist between the liturgy band the ~Church, relations that~ may be summed up in the following,, two ~principles: The liturgy is a living function of th~ ~hole Church; ¯167 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious the liturgy is not, however, the whole of the Church. All Catholics, therefore, must, each in his own way, participate in the liturgy; but they should also remember that the liturgy does not remove the importance of priv.ate and individual worship and that it does not lessen the Church's functions of teaching and governing. The Pontiff then turns to a consideration of the relations between the liturgy of the Mass and Christ. It must not be forgotten, teaches the Holy Father, that the central element of the Eucharistic Sacrifice is that where Christ offers Himself; this takes place at the Consecration where in the act of trans-substantiation Christ acts through the person of the priest-cele-brant. Hence, wherever the consecration of bread and wine is validly effected, the action of Christ Himself is also accomplished. There can, then, be no real concelebration of Mass unless the concelebrants not only have the necessary interior intention, but also say over the bread and wine, "This is My Body"; "This is My Blood." It also follows that it is not true to say that the offering of a hundred Masses by a hundred priests is equal to the offering of Mass by a single priest in the presence of a hundred devout priests. The Holy Father next considers the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist. He first corrects an erroneous explanation of Christ's presence in the Eucharist, according to which after the Consecration Christ is present only in the sense that the appear-ances of bread and wine have a real relation with our Lord in heaven. Such an explanation, Plus XII points out, does not do justice to the Eucharist, of which it carl be simply said: It is the Lord. The Holy Father concludes this section by warning against any diminishing of esteem for the presence of Christ in the tabernacle. The altar of sacrifice and the tabernacle of the rdal presence are in no way opposed to each. other, for it is the same Lord who is immolated on the altar and who is really present in the tabernacle. 168 May, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Finally, the Holy Father considers the divinity of Christ and the liturgy and remarks that the divinity of our Lord must not be allowed to remain on the fringe of the liturgy. It is, of course, to be expected that man should go to the Father through Christ who is man's Mediator; but it must also be remembered that Christ is" not only Mediator, but also the equal of the Father and the Holy Spirit. Several documents were issued in the last quarter of 1956 which dealt with beatification and canonization processes. By a decree of May 13, 1956 (AAS, pp. 842-843), the Sacred Congregation of Rites approved the reassumption of the cause of the bessed martyrs Roch Gonzalez, Alphonsus Rodriguez, and John del Castillo, priests of the Society of Jesus. Under the same date the same Congregation (AAS, pp. 843-844) also approved the reassumption of the cause of Blessed Mary Cres-centia H6ss, virgin, professed member of the Third Order of St. Francis. On August 15, 1956 (AAS, pp. 804-806), the Congregation of Rites decreed that the beatification of Pope Innocent XI could safely proceed; and on October 7, 1956 (AAS, pp. 754-759), the decree of his beatification was accord-ingly issued. On the same day (AAS, pp. 762-778) His Holi-ness delivered a lengthy panegyric on the new Blessed. Blessed Innocent XI, the Pope pointed out, directed his entire pontificate to the accomplishment of three goals: the perfecting of the re-form begun by the Council of Trent; the protection of the rights and liberty of the Church, especially in France; and. the saving of Christian Europe from the inroads of Turkish power. These three external achievements were accompanied, said the Pope, by three internal qualities: constant union with God in prayer; love of poverty joined to a desire to help those in need; and a strong purpose to seek only ~he will of almighty God. Finally, it should be noted in relation to canonization matters that on February 19, 1956 (AAS, pp. 688-691), the Congregation of Rites approved the introduction of the cause of the Cardinal Archbishop of Seville, Marcellus Spinola Maestre (1835-1906). 169 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious The Sacred Congregation of Rites on October 31," 1956 (AAS, pp. 844-845), added to the blessings of the Church by issuing a formula for the blessing of stone quarries and another for the blessing of establishments for the working and finishing of marble. The Holy Father contributed to the Church's life of worship by the message which he .broadcast to the Second National Eucharistic Congresk of the Philippines on December 2, 1956 (AAS, pp. 834-838); he urged in the course of his broadcast that Catholics should show their faith and trust in Christ's Eucha-ristic presence not so much by words or songs, as by truly Christian deeds. Finally, a broadcast of October 28, 1956 (AAS, pp. 831-834), in which the Holy Father discussed the practice of consecration to the Sacred Heart, shoold not be neglected. Since the act of consecration is an act of love and of self-dedication, says the Vicar of Christ, this act can be performed only by one in the state of grace. Moreover, to live out the act of consecration once made means that the person must be grad-ually transformed into another Christ; and the Holy Father concludes his speech by teaching that whoever consecrates him-self to the Sacred Heart enrolls himself in an army of peace which neither rests nor halts until the kingdom of Christ is estab-lished in all hearts, in all families, and in all institutions. Addresses to Doctors. Medicine and its associated fields have been the repeated subject of speeches and addresses throughout the reign of Plus XII and the last few months of 1956 saw no exception to 'this general rule. The most important of these addresses was that given by the Holy Father on September 11, 1956 (AAS, pp. 677-686), to the seventh plenary meeting of the International Association of Catholic Physicians, held at The Hague, Holland. In this radio broadcast the Supreme Pontiff discussed the matters of medical morality and of positive law dealing with medical matters. 170 May, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS The ultimate source of all medical morality and law, begins the Pope, is to be found in the individual's right to life, to in-tegrity of body, and to the means necessary~ to preserve life and integrity. All these rights, he continues, are received by the individual directly from his Creator, not from the state or any group of states. This, means, then, that the individual does not bear the same relation to the state in medical matters that a physical part bears to the physical whole in which it exists. ~ After considering the obfligations which flow from the essen-tial conditions of. human nature and which are :measurable by objective norms and which to a considerable extent are contained in .the Ten Commandments as understood and explained by reason and the Chur~ch, the Pontiff then takes up the matter of positive medical law understood as a set of norms which have been established in a body politic to control the training and activity of physicians and which are civilly enforceable. Such positive law in medical matters, the Pope says, is necessary, since the prin-ciples of medical morality lacl~ sufficient precision to adequately cover all the concrete, medical situations that are of importance to society. Medical morality and positive medical law are in a certain sense autonomous in their respective spheres, but in the final analysis positive medical law must be subordinate to medical morality. Positive medical law, then, must never be in contra-diction, to the moral order which is expressed in medical morality. Positive law, for example, cannot permit mercy-killing nor direct abortion. A month earlier than the previous talk on August 19, 1956 (AAS, pp. 666-670), the Pontiff addressed a group of cancer specialists~ urging them to observe wheat for lack of a better name may be called medical humanism. This is an attit.ude of mind which, when treating a patient, does not limit itself to a consideration of the patient's sickness only, but considers the entire man including his economic, social, psychological, and moral conditions. .He concludes his address to these cancer specialists ~by expressing the wish that their zeal to fight the 171 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious physical evil of cancer may be matched by a zeal to combat the even greater evil which is called sin. The Holy Father also ad-dressed another group of cancer researchers on October 6, 1956 (AAS, pp. 793-797). After detailing the recent research into a cure for cancer, the Pope concludes by encouraging them in their labors, for, as he says, they are fighting one of the con-sequences that the sin of man has introduced into the world. Economic and Social Problems A number of documents issued by Plus XII in the last three months of 1956 dealt with subjects that can be termed roughly economic and social matters. On September 9, 1956 (AAS, pp. 670-673), the Holy Father addressed the First Congress of the International Association of Economists, pointing out to its members that economics, like any other science, must start with the observation of facts considered in their entirety. It was failure to see all of economic reality, says the Pontiff, that led to the contradiction betw.een the economic theory of the physi0cra.ts and the frightful social misery that actually existed in reality. Similarly too, the h/!~arxist view failed to see all of economic reality, for it eliminated all spiritual values and thereby put men into a bondage as oppressive as any slavery. The true economist, then, must embrace in his economic theory the many facets of man that affect economic reality, especially man's gift of free and personal decision. The Holy Father concludes his address by recalling to his audience the Christian ideal of poverty as a means of personal freedom and social service; although, he remarks, this ideal is not directly within the purview of economics, still economists can find in that ideal a o general orientation that will bring them valuable insights. On October 8, 1956 (AAS, pp. 798-801), the Holy Father addressed a group of owners of small businesses from the coun-tries of Germany, Belgium, .Italy, and the Netherlands. In his allocution to them the Vicar of Christ stres'sed'the necessity of small business for the stability of a country and gave his audience salutary, reminders of the relations that should exist in such busi- 172 May, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS nesses between owners and employees. On the Feast of Christ the King, October 28, 1956 (AAS, pp. 819-824), His Holiness spoke to a group of Italian workers on the subject of the reign of Christ in the world of labor. The reign of Christ, says the Pope, must begin in the minds of men; and, therefore, a deep knowledge of the truths of the Catholic faith must be spread among men. But the reign of Christ must also penetrate to the hearts of men that they might all become living stones of that edifice which is Christ. Moreover, the kingdom of Christ must extend even to the factories where men work that these too may be governed by His justice, which alone can bring a solution to modern social problems. And finally, the kingdom of Christ is a kingdom of love, and therefore of peace, for love of its very nature is a uniting force. In the Basilica of St. Peter on November 18, 1956 (AAS, pp. 826-831), seven thousand Italian workers from Turin were received by the Holy Father who addressed them on various social and economic matters. He recalls to their minds that, though economics must deal with such matters as the laws of production and consumption, it must also be aware of those moral laws which must be considered if any economic situation is to be handled successfully. He warns them that the enemy of the human race is today represented among men by Communism and concludes by urging the workers not to fear scientific and technical progress, for there is no reasonable basis for assuming that such progress will eliminate the need for human workers. On October I0, 1956 (AAS, pp. 779-786), the Holy Father broadcast a message to the shrine of the house of Loretto where a group 6f Italian women had gone on pilgrimage. The Pontiff first recalls to his hearers the dignity of woman accord-ing to Catholic principles; she, like man, is a child of God, redeemed by Christ, and given a supernatural destiny; further-more, woman shares with w/an a common temporal destiny, so that no human activity is of itself forbidden to woman. Man 173 R, F. 'SMITH Review for Religious and woman, then, are equal as far as personal and fundamental values .are concerned, though their functions are different. The fundamenial function of woman is motherhood; for it is by this that woman ordinarily attains both her temporal and her eternal destiny; this, of course, in no way prevents the perfection of womanhood being achieved in other ways, especially by the voluntary acceptance of a higher vocation. Finally, the Holy Father acknowledges that woman should be a force in the modern world and one :of the aims of woman's activity should be to strive to see' that the nation's institutions, laws, and customs respect the special needs of women. Miscellaneous Topics An important document issued by the Hoiy Father in the concluding months of 1956 is the text of a speech given by him on September 14, 1956 (AAS, pp. 699-711), to a group of Italian priests interested in the adaptation of pastoral activity to the needs of contemporary life. The main body of the text is concerned with the need for preaching today modeled on the preaching 6f Christ and that of the Church. At the conclusion of the talk the Supreme Pontiff then formulates a general prin-ciple tl~at should control all those working to adapt themselves to modern situations: there can be no valid adaptation to modern conditions unless that adaptation be shaped by and oriented towards the teaching power of the Church. Individual theologi-ans must remember that the teaching o~ce of the Roman Pontiff and of fhe bishops is of divine right, while their own right to teach is delegated to them. by the Church. The Vicar of Christ notes in conclusion certain areas where modern adaptation has not been shaped by the teaching power of the Church. Among such areas are to be included the tendencies of. the "new theol-ogy" as explained in 1950 in the encyclical Humani Generis; situation ethics; the pretended superiority of Christian marriage and the conjugal act over virginity;, and. the independence of art from all norms other than artistic ones. On September 20, 1956 iAAS, pp. 790-793), the Holy 174 May, 1957 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Father addressed the Seventh Congress oi: the International Astronautical Society. After recalling the history of human effort during the last fifty years to achieve interplanetary travel and to invent artificial earth satellites, the Vicar of .Christ con-tinues by saying that interplanetary travel is a licit aim and pur-pose, for all creation has been given to man. On the other hand, he points out that the boldest explorations of space will but lead, to greater divisions among men, unless humanity be-comes more deeply impressed with the solidarity of that t!amily of God which is the human race. The last document to be noted is a decree of the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities~ dated June 21, 1956 (AAS, p. 846), by which Niagara University is canonically and perpetually erected. This concludes the documents which have appeared in AAS during 1956; the next article will summarize the documents of AAS for the first months of 1957. SUMMER INSTITUTES (Continued from Page 142) In its second annual series of Institutes for Religious Won~en Gonzaga University aims at "equipping nuns of all congregations with the insights that reflect God's point of view." This year's schedule is as follows: June 17-28, The Sacramental Life and the Mass; July 1-12, Understanding Human Nature--Part II; Personal Holiness II. Write to: Rev. Leo J. Robinson, s.J.~ Gonzaga University, Spokane 2, Wash-ington. From July 1 to August 9 The Catholic University of America will conduct a Marian Institute which has been established to provide sys-tematic training in the theoloy about the Blessed Virgin. Address cor-respondence to: Director of the Summer Session, The Catholic Uni-versity of America, Washington 17, D. C, OUR CONTRIBUTORS SISTER M. MATILDA is archivist at Loretto Motherhouse, Lo-retto, Nerinx P. O., KentuCky. THOMAS G. O'CALLAGHAN is professor of ascetical and mystica[ theology at Weston College, Weston, Massachusetts. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland. R. F. SMITH is a mem-ber of the faculty of St.Mary's Cbllege, St. Marys, Kansas. !75 Communications [EDITORS' NOTE: Those who send communications will help us greatly if they type the communications double- or triple-spaced and allow generous margins. Occasionally we receive material for a particular issue or time of year~ Since our deadline for sending copy to the printer is two months before the publication date, such material should reach us three months before it is to appear. Communications, like articles and questions, should be addressed to our editorial office, not to the business office. The complete address is: The Editors, REW~W :FOR REL~O~0US, St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. The address of the business office (where subscriptions, requests for back numbers, changes of address, etc., are to be sent) is given on the inside back cover.] Introductory Note As an editor, I should like to suggest that the communication on the religious habit may stimulate profitable discussion if our readers will ignore the suggestion that the sisters who answered Father Teufel's questionnaire (cf. our January number, p. 3) are disgruntled religious. Concentration on this point can lead only to bitterness. As a teacher, I should like to add that I once conducted a discussion (without a questionnaire) involving the same points brought out by FathEr Teufel. Sisters representing a large number of institutions took part in this discussion. Their conclusions were similar to those expressed in Father Teufel's article. I can vouch for the fact that these sisters were excellent religious, devoted to their institutes. I am sure that the same could itnd should be said about the sisters who replied to Father Teufel's questionnaire. As a priest, let me say that we men are not eager to tell women how to dress. Moreover, many of us think that the problem of garb is not limited to sisters' habits. Priests and religious men who live in hot climates (which--by the way--are not limited to mission co'n-tries) often discuss the possibility of having some substitute for the black suits and cassocks. The underlying reason of these discussions is not lack of mortification; it is rather the very important matter of cleanliness, as well as efficiency. Gerald Kelly, S.J. The Religious Habit Reverend Fathers: The article on the religious habit published in the January issue of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has attracted considerable attention 176 COMMUNICATIONS among the religious of my. community. I am wondering about the reaction of others. Those with whom I have spoken are within the average age group mentioned in the article--at least twenty-five years in religion. Their reaction (like my own) has been one of shock at the revelation of what looks like a deep resentmefit in the minds of certain religious against the inconveniences and occasional" embar-rassment or discomfort caused by the religious habitl May I offer a few comments? 1. The attitude of a religious toward her habit. From the day she receives it, the religious in any well-trained community is imbued with the idea of the sacredness of the "holy" habit. She. regards it as a privilege to wear a garment blessed by Holy Church. On the day of her "clothing" she is reminded that she has put off (at least in will and intention) the "old" self and has puton Christi Each morning thereafter as she puts on her habit she recites a prayer recall-ing the day when she was vested with the nuptial robe indicative of her union with Christ. 2. The care given to the habit is that given to somethi~ng sacred, as, for example, the vestments in the sacristy. It is put on and removed over the head (never stepped out of). It must be lifted on going down stairs or in crossing a muddy or dusty passage. It must be kept free of spots and never allowed to become ragged. 3. Some of the remarks on the time expended on the,care, of the habit seem to indicate that the religious who made these remarks have no idea of the time and care that a woman in the world must consume in keeping well groomed. 4. These religious.applied for the habit they wear. They accepted it along with the rules and customs and the spirit of their particular commu.nity. If today they are disgruntled at its form, might not this be an indication of a falling off in fervor and esteem for the institute whose uniform they once gladly adopted? In regard to the attractibn of vocations, young girls are drawn to particular institutes by their spirit or their work. They accept the habit without criticism and love it for what it represents. 5. It is true that many communities have been loyally putting up with certain inconveniences which custom imposed in the matter of clothing. The sisters of past generations accepted all this in.a spirit of penance. The present-day abhorrence of inconvenience is--alas! 177 COMMUNICATIONS Review for Religious --carried into the convent by many a postulant; but surely her attitude changes as she grasps the meaning of mortification and in the pursuit of "personal holiness" becomes more eager for penance. 6. The Holy See, in its kindly interest in the spiritual progress of dqdicate.d souls, has made aa effort to relieve the religious of incon-veniences arising from the manner of dress designed in far distant days. If each community attends to the rectification of thos~ features of the habit which come under these benign instructions, then indi-vidual religious will have no ground for interior rebellion, much less for outspoken criticism. Suggestions may always be made; surely-- but, should we add, objectively. The personal savor of many of the criticisms published indicated an absorption in self and a seeking of ease that seemed at variance with the striving after perfection which religious life implies. The remarks on the rosary were particularly offe_nsive. 7. It seems a pity that the attitude of seventy-two religious in one small corner of the earth should be taken as indicative of the reaction of thousands of sisters all over the world. Seculars picking up this article will be justly shocked; for they generallyo have the greatest esteem for the religious habit, no matter how antiquated or outlandish it may appear at first sight. 8. There is an old saying--"Cucullus non facit monachum.'" The habit certainly does not make the sister, but it does indicate that the person ~lothed in it is set apart from the world; that the restrictions it imposes are accepted as part of the price of her dedication; and that the uniform of her pai:ticular unit.in the army of the King is worn with an ""esprit de corps'" that cancels all inconveniences and be-stows .on the wearer a certain distinction. I shall be interested in learning the reaction of other religious ¯ communities to Father Teufel's article. Perhaps it was intended to b~ provocative. If the day of persecution should ever ~me (which G~d forbid!) when these same disgruntled nuns would be stripped of the holy habit (weighing ten pounds!) and forced to don a secular dress as light as 14 ounces, what a chorus of lamentation would rise to heaven! Surely in their zeal for reform these good sisters were led by a tempting quegtionnaire beyond the limits of discretion. In their heart 6f hearts they feel, I a.m sure, that they are privileged to wear any religious habit. Surely after twenty-eight years they have 178 May, 1957 COMMUNICATIONS at least in some degree died to the world in order to put on Christ, A Sister Vocal Prayers in English Reverend Fathers: May I make use of the communications department of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tO invite the opinions of other religious concerning a problem that has arisen in our community in regard to the conversion of many of our Latin prayers into English. I do not refer to the Divine Office or to the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin, but to 'the vocal prayers said in common morning and evening, those before and after meditation, the particular examen, and recently, the grace at meals in English. When we recited these prayers in Latin we used a uniform pitch, recto tono, and the even free rhythm of syllabic chant. Now we are thinking of carrying this method over into the English versions of these prayers so as to keep perfect unison in pitch with a similar rhythm. This poses the problem of modifying the emphasis and weight of the English accent, and submerges the natural inflections of the voice ordinarily used in reading English prose. It seems to us it would be in keeping with the spirit of liturgical prayer to lift our voices above the mundane methods of ordinary speech to a higher form of vocal player similar to the Latin recto tono or liturgi-cal recitative even when it is cast in the vernacular. We should like to know what other communities are doing about this problem. Do they chant English vocal prayers recto tono? Do they strive for the even rhythm of syllabic chant? Are there any printed works on this subject? Since many communities are converting many of their community prayers into English, it seems to me the opinions and practices of other communities will be of interest, not only to our sisters~ but to many other readers of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Mother M. Cecilia, O.SIU. Ursuline Convent Paola, Kansas 179 t oo1 Reviews [Material for this department should be sent ~to Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THE SPLENDOUR OF THE CHURCH. By Henri de Lubac, S.J. Translated by Michael Mason. Pp. 289. Sheed and Ward, New York 3. 1956. $3.50 The original title of the book, Meditation sur l'Eglise, more humbly indicates the source of these reflections which magnificently reveal the splendor of the Church. We are grateful to the author for allowing us to look deeply into his soul on fire '~with an ever-growing affection" for the Church. The subject matter was supplied by informal talks and conferences given largely at days of recollection to priests with whom the author shares the treasures he has so sincerely pr!zed himself. This is consequently not a systematic treatise on the Church or the Mystical Body. Any one desiring an orderly dogmatic treatment had better not begin with this book. A gen-erous acquaintance with the scientific background of the theology of the Church is supposed, but on this new light and unsuspected bril-liancy- is cast by these conferences. What cannot but amaze the attentive reader is the erudition which has gone into the making of this brilliant book.' Tradition is literally pillaged to support the propositions presented, not so much for proof as for a luminous display of the light that has been shed through the ages on the dogma of the Church. The coverage of the literature on the subject, manifest in. numberless footnotes, is formidable, both in regard to the founts of tradition, as well as the pe¥iodical literature in many tongues. It was a pleasant surprise to find Social Order amongst the sources cited. The march of thought in the book may be here briefly outlined though it is not easy to summarize the wealth of material offered. The Church is first of all a mystery, our own myster~ par'excellence. In its dimensions the Church reaches back not merely to the apostles but tO th~ prophets, and Adam himself is to be reckoned with these; and forward to the end of."time. The one Church, however, has two aspects, active and passive, the power that assembles and the assembly thus constituted. The Church is at once our mother and ourselves; pastor and flock, Church teaching and Church taught, but always within unity. It is inspiring to note what further leads such familiar distinctions suggest to the prolific mind of the author. 180 BOOK REVIEWS A fourth chapter examines the. relation between the Church and the Eucharist, "the Heart of the Church." "If the Church is the fullness of Christ, Christ in His Eucharist is truly the heart of the Church" (p. 113). A further chapter faces the conflict that has been introdt~ced by the presence of the Church in the world, creating a rivalry between the two and constant "reciprocal embarrassment," which is really nothing more than the duality set up by the Gospel and postulated by man's dual nature as animal and spirit. The bril-liant subsequent chapter exhibits the Church as "the sacrament of Christ": "she is the great sacrament which contains and vitalizes all the others" (p. 147). There follows a warm exposition of the Church a~ our mother, "E~'Hesic~ ~1ater," which would make profitable read-ing for such as suspect a childish sentimentalism in the words "Mother Church." The author is candid enough to review the difficulties that present themselves to the man who finds his love and loyalty for the Church embarrassed by practical problems that invite criticism. Father De Lubac's solutions build up to a finer and more stable loyalty. The final chapter, "The Church and Our Lady," has appealed to this reviewer as the finest of all, being ~that of greatest length (,50 pages), and covering the treatise of Mariology from an unusual angle. The author begins by cleverly se. lecting,a Barthian denunciation of our position. "It is in Marian doctrine," declares Barth, "and the Marian cult that the heresy of the Roman Catholic Church is apparent --that heresy which enables us to understand all the: rest" (p. 239), Candidly accepting the challenge our author admits as a~.fundamental Catholic thesis that Mary and the Church must be understood togegher, and proceeds to illustrate the thesis by a. detailed review of the Church's liturgy through the centuries, above, all the liturgical, application, of theoCanticle of Canticles to both.Mary and the Church. In this conclu.ding tribute both our Lady and the Church are once again mutu.al!y illumined by a dazzling ~splendor. In its.exterior form and presentation the volume lives up to the high standards ofthe publishers. A'considerable number of errors have crept into the Latin of.the footnotes; .these sh~oulcl be cayefully chec.k~ed before a new. printing.--~AI.O~.s~u~ C. I~E.Xlp~.:R, S.~. . A PATH ~HROUGH GENESIS. By Bruce Vawter, C.M. Pp. 308. Sheed and Ward, New York 3. 1956. $4.00. Nbt many dec~ades ago, it' was ~xibmatic in bibiic~il ~ircles that 181 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious "Catholic works are not read." Fortunately, the recent Catholic rev~ival in the field of biblical scholarship has effectively challenged this intellectual boycott. If the axiom is still true nowadays, it is true in the sense that Catholics themselves are not yet acquainted with their own scholars' efforts to enrich their spiritual heritage. Usually, one dan plead lack of time and i~sufficient background for studying the Bible, especially the Old Testament. But Father Vawter has helped put the lie to that excuse. A Path Through Genesis is a concise, informative, and even inspiring introduction to private reading of the Old Testament in general, and of Genesisin particular. Its value as a general intro-duction consists chiefly in its interesting and pedagogically sound treatment of the book which is most likely to present problems to the average reader--the first he meets: Genesis. Wisely, the author has decided to write a guide for the reading of Genesis, rather than a book about Genesis. Selected portions of the ~text are printed in t:ull to save the reader the wearisome task of using two books at ,once. The commentary linking these substantially large passages is most readable, and Father Vawter uses to advantage his gift for delight-fully apt comparisons to help bridge the gap between Hebrew thought patterns and our own. Popular in style, the book is almost com-pletely free of the cumbersome apparatus of scholarship--footnotes, though it is by no means innocent of the results of serious research. In fact, it is rather surprising that the results of careful, painstaking study can be expressed with such disarming simplicity; but such is the reader's happy discovery. The author has thoughtfully included a number of maps, pictures, and diagrams which enable the book to "teach itself." This is not to say that' its reading is effortless, which "would be, after all, a doubtful compliment. With careful but not taxing attention, the book will open the eyes of the reader to the real meaning of Genesis. And it will either remove his groundless fears that "the difficulties of God's book will weaken our faith in Him," or bring the reader out of the "pious daze" that usually afflicts him when he reads the Bible without facing what it says, Father Va~cter's A Path Through Genesis is recommended not just to seminarians and teachers of college religion, but to any seri-ous- minded person who wants to appreciate God's word, especially in the New Testament. For it is hard to see how one can understand the New Testament, especially ~he letters of St. Paul, without being 182 May, 1957 .Book ANNOUNCEMENTS rather well-acquainted with the only sacred writings Paul knew and constantly used. In Father Vawter's ~vords: "I think tliere is no better way to discourage Bible reading than by the oft-repeated advice to 'read the New Testament first, then the Old.' This is one of those witless axioms supposedly based on experience, but in reality pure untested theory." Perhaps the book would be ot~ special interest to teachers of grade-school religion. Even if the matter contained in the book is not directly brought out in class, it should help form the teacher's mental background and help her avoid unnecessarily dogmatic statements about the creation of the world and the "historical facts" in the Bible. It is this reviewer's teaching experience that many well-intentioned but uninformed statements heard by students in the grades have found their reaction in a sophomoric rationalism that appears openly only several years later. In other cases, such remarks have not aided faith, which is, after all, a light, but rather have fos-tered that "pious daze" which befogs the knowledge of God and His striking providence. Any grade-school teacher knows what embar-rassingly straightforward questions can be asked by' those precocious little ones who could well be the Church's most valuable. ~apostles in future years. A wise teacher will need to face such ~i~:t~roblem-filled child not just with an answer, and a sound one at thai, but with her own informed assurance. Father Vawter's book serves this twofold need admirably.--CH~,RgEs H. GIBLI~, S.J. 8OOK AN NOUNCF:/~I=NT~; THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. The Shroud of Turin. By Werner Bulst, S.J. Translated by Stephen McKenna, C.SS.R., and James J. Galvin, C.SS.R, This is the most complete book in English on this controversial question. Though written by one man, it really represents th.e combined work of experts in many fields who allowed the author to use the results 6f "~heir in-vestigations and checked his final copy to make sure that ~th.ey were ~orrectly presented. The photographs are excellent and wogih the ~pric~ of the book. In addition to the information you acquire~in read- 'ing the book, you will find that you. have gained~.,a ,better and more vivid appreciation of what the Passion meant to Christ.° Hence, ~though it is a strictly scientific book, it may well ~erve as spiritual 183 ]~OOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Review fo~" Religious reading. It will make Christ much more real for you. Pp. 167. $4.75. Reflections on the Passion. By Charles Hug9 Doyle. These are short essays, one for each day of Lent except Holy Saturday. They are what you .would expect to hear from a pastor before the p~lrish Mass each day of Lent. Pp. 93. $1.85. Our Saviour's Last Night and Day. By Rev. A. Biskupek, S.V.D. In these brief pages the author gives us a moving account of the Passion of our Lord. He harmonizes the history of the Passibn as given by the four evangelists. Pp. 80. Paper $1.00. The Rubricator. By Earl Dionne. The rubricator is a rotating di~k which indicates "the proper position of any officer of a solemn high Mass at any.part of the Mass. There are four such rubricators: one for the solemn high Mass, one for the solemn requiem high Mass, one for the pontifical solemn high Mass at the faldstool, and one for the pontifical solemn high Mass at the throne. Each sells for $1.00, the set for $3.50. THE DEVIN-ADAIR Company, 23 East 26th Street, New York, 10. A Brief Introduction to the Divine Office. By Joseph J. Ayd, s.J. Revised by James I. O'Connor, S.J. Seminarians and all who are trying to learn the Divifie Office will find this book very hel'pful. Pp 7. $0.3~. FIDES PUBLISHERS ASSOCIATION, 744 East 79th Street, Chi-cago 19, Illinois The Journal of aSouthi~rn Pastor. By J. B. Gremillion. Many a problem of pastoral theology is presented, and dis~cussed ifi these pages which you will not find in the standard texts on pastoral theology, for .they w~re not problems when the texts wei'e written. Pp. 305. $3.95. M. H. GILL AND SON, LTD., 50 Upper O'Connell Street, Dublin, Ireland. The Incurable Optimist and Other Spiritual Essays. By Robert Nash, S.J. Father Nasb has a talent for putting the truths of faith, particularly as they concern the trivialities and cafes of every day livi'ng, in an interesting and ,striking way. 'The essays first appeared in The Sunday Press, Dul~lifi. You may judge his popularity by the 184 May, 1957 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS fact that this is the third collection of his essays to be published. Pp. 112. 6s. B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, 15 S. Broadway, St. Louis 2, Missouri. Handbook of Ceremonies. By John Baptist Mueller, s.J. Revised and re-edited by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. This seventeenth edition of a very popular handbook has been completely revised and, to a great extent, re-written to bring it into conformity with the ne# rubrics for both Mass and office. Even the new ceremonies for Holy Week are included. The musical supplement is now printed in the Gregorian notation. You will like everything about this book with the possible dxception of its price. Pp. 482. $6.50. THE LITURGICAL PRESS, St. John's Abbey, Collegeville, Minnesota. Meditating the Gospels. By Emeric Lawrence, O.S.B. The two leading ideas of this new meditation book are: prayer is a convers

Issue 10.4 of the Review for Religious, 1951. ; A. M. D.G. ~o Review for Religious JULY 15, 19 51 Our Aged Religious . Sister Mary Jafie Redemptorls÷ Spiri÷uali÷y. . Joseph I~t. Coller~n Recollectio"n Day Ouestions " ° Winfrld Herbsf Elections and Appointments . Joseph F. Gallen Grow÷h through the Eficharls÷ Anselm Lacomara ins÷ruction on Sponsa Christi , List of Psychometric Tests Communications Book Reviews VOLUME X NUMBER 4 Rfi::::VII::::W FOR Ri:::LIGIOUS VOLUME X JULY, 1951 NUMBER Jr CONTENTS SOME PROBLEMS OF OUR AGED RELIGIOUS-~Sister MaryJane, O.P1.69 COMMUNICATIONS ': 173 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 174 VACATION SCHOOL IN SOCIAL ACTION .1.7.4 REDEMPTORIST. SPIRITUALITY--Joseph M. Colleran, C.SS.R. 175 QUESTIONS FOR MONTHLY RI~CO~LECTION-- Winfri~l.Herbst, S.D.S . 185 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS--Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. 187 GROWTH IN GRACE THROUGH THE EUCHARIST-- Anselm Lacomara, C. P .200 HERESY OF RACE 204 INSTRUCTION ON 8PONSA CHRISTI . 205 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 19. Sister Digna's List of Psychometric Tests . 213 BOOK REVIEWS~ Religious Life and Spirit: Living the Mass; Jesus.Christ; The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius . 217 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS " 222 FOR YOUR INFORMATION-- Morality and Alcoholism; The Good Confessor; Seventy Years 224 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July, 1951, Vol. X. No. 4. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approba~tion. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka. Kansas, under the act: of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis, S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Jerome Breunig, S. J. Copyright, 1951. by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy. Printed in U. S. A. Before writ;ncj to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Some Problems ot: Our Aged Religious Sister Mary Jane, O.P. THE problems of old religious are the problems of each and every one, for none of us is getting any younger. The proverbial old-fashioned rocker on the farmhouse porch where Granny could drowse away her honored last years has vanished, but Granny has not and neither has the aged religious. Never before our generation was the old age problem Sb great because there never were so many old folks. "Statistics tell us that today men and women sixty-five and overc~prise seven per cent of our population. Science has graciously presented another twenty years or more. Religious as well as others must plan what they are going to do. Sixty-Fiue is Young One wonderful and bright fact is that there are numerous reli-gious, both men and women, over sixty-five who are still,:bearing a large share of the burden of the community's w6rk. Dodge and Ford proved that old folks can work; they maintained old-age shops whose able personnel included men in their eighties. Long before either of the above thought of this, religious communities were taking it for granted. Sixty-five in a religious community is usually con-sidered young. Rarely does one find a religious who even considers retiring at that age, or at any age for that matter. How often one finds religious teaching school or doing other types of work at the ripe age of seventy-five and eighty. The author knows a religious who still goes out collecting alms for the community at the age of ninety-two. ~ During the past two wars employers in general were del~ighted with the oldsters' low accident and absenteeism rates,, as well as with their strategy in attacking problems. They were proud o'f the pro-duction power of that proportion of their workers. We, too, have every right to be proud of our aged religious. In the United States most old people subsist on some form ot~ organized "handout.," A few may enjoy adequate pensions from private sources,'frorr/civil service retirement allowances, Veteran allot- 169 SISTER MARY JANE Review [or Religious o merits, or old age relief or insurance. For others, an unfinanced senescence is likely to ,be dreaded: Often, it means ending up in a pub-li~ or private "nursing home." Not so our religious brethren; there is not this-fear for a member of a community. A few religious com-munities have a home for their dear ones, some with a'long waiting list. Waiting, yes, waiting for one or more to be called home for the longed-Ior eternal reward, but. waiting, too, to "occupy the places made vacant. What about the ~ged religious who cannot be admitted to these havens for some reason or other? The Housing Problem Where should these aged religious live? No one would deny them the balmy ease of Orlando, if they could have it. The public institution is out of the question. Some communities have done much but others have mad~ slight provision for their aged members either ih the past or at present. '~In many cases existing conditions and facilities are pitifully inadequate. It is undeniable that unless some corrective measures are set in motion, this already serious prob-lem'will become more acute as the average life expectancy climbs higher. Perhaps many more of the aged religious should be living with their communities, but, where this is not feasible, they ought to have a'special home ~where they may be left alone, but where they can obtain help when they need it. We all agree, that individualization in the care of o~r aged religious is preferable to institutionalization. There is hardly an institutional home for the aged which does not mingle the sick with the near-sick. More often than not, the latter need nothing more than custodial care. It is true that the pressure of modern .urban living makes domestic adaptability between age groups difficult and in many cases well nigh impossible. The aged find it difficult to change their habits so late in life. Nevertheless, many religious can and do get along together, particularly where th~ old religious remember the Golden Rule and the younger ones bear in mind that Our Lord said, "What you have done to these, you have done to Me." Some Symptoms o[ Age Old age is a gradual progression toward deterioration. It often shows symptoms of growing self-interest and lack of impressibility. Important events are no 19nger significant to old people as long as they do not touch directly upon their lives. There is usually a gen- 170 Jul~,1951 OUR AGED RELIGIOUS eral reduction in mental effidency, forgetfulness, arid loss of memory for recent events. Other symptoms include the tendency to reminisce and to fabricate, intolerance of change--routine must be observed and must never be disturbed lest irritability and tension rise--a rest-less desire to be up and about, to travel here and there, "frequently getting lost in transit (whether in or out of the monastery or con-vent) ; insomnia, and a tendency to putter aimlessly about the house and gardens. The t.endency to live in the pasi is very strong in some. Others show a total lack o~ interest in everything about them. Some are unsympathetic and indifferent, and the mood may ,change frequently and even without ~any apparent cause. Some ma~. be cooperativd, orderly, and quiet, and give very little trduble, .While others are untidy, meddlesome, 'and rcstless; Very.'often aged people become resistive when they think they a~.e: being coerced by those who are younger. One may even hear such expressions as "That fresh young thing!" Some Solutions The psychology of persuasion may have t'o called iflt.6.play to meet behavior problems that arise. Various stages of senility can effect disposition changes that necessitate parti.cular ~tre.atnlent and care. A great need is companionship. At its best old age is°a lonely existence, to say the least, and must be brightened by cheerful com-panions and a staff with a sense of humor. Everyone, we are told, comes into this life with three strong fundamental drives or needs: (1) the need of security; (2) the need fcr affection; (3) the need to do things for others or to mean some-thing to others. Frustration of these ftlnda~nental needs, even among religious, causes tension which makes the individual uncomfortable. The persistence of this tendency may be the beginning of a. nervous condition. Disability and chronic illness in the ageing and aged religious are increasing. The burden upon the communities, is already very large. It clearly threatens to increase year by year, unless something effective is done now to better conditions. . Nou) is the Time What can be done now with our young and middle-aged to make them strong, able, and competent to contribute to the general welfare and happiness during their declining years instead of being a burden to their fellow religious and themselves. This is a matter of concern 171 SISTER MARY JANE Reoieu~ [or Religious to each and every one of us. The time has come to speak out. It is not enough for y, ounger members to feel the wave of sentimental pity that sometimes sweeps over them today. It is not enough to provide the physical comforts of shelter, food, and clothing for these aged religious. These dear ones must be understood now by their fellow religious. Now,. too, they must learn to understand them-' SelVeS, The author is not bitter, but sometimes has to count to ten or perhaps whisper an "Ave Maria" to hold back angry words provoked by thoughtless acts, looks, and sometimes even just the tone of voice directed at some aged ~eliglous. If only everyone remembered how little they like. to be singled out as special beings! The attittide.of others is often a great handicap. It may be the lack of belief, the misdirected ~sympathg, sometimes the lack of sympathy, or the failure to regiird the aged one as an individual. Abrasions and fractures may heal, but a broken spirit will not. Often the feeling of younger religious towards the aged of their community combines pity and confusion. The pity may express itself in remarks like: "Isn't that sad?': "Too bad, we ought to be thank-ful." "She's old enough to die." "She served her purpose." Is there perhaps "no room" for the old religious? Again, why do some always make the mistake of thinking that all aged religious are deaf? Needless to say, over-hearing such remarks will hardly boost their morale. If this is what we ageing religious must look forward to as our life-span is extended, we may find ourselves agreeing that there are worse things in life than dying young or dying suddenly. Belonging What the aged religious wants more than anything is to be treated like everyone else, to feel that he belongs to the community, that he is stil! wanted. Belonging is the big thing. The penalties of old age are aggravated with rustication, particularly when undesir-ability, is felt. The aged religious should not be ruled out of any social life in the community nor excluded from recreations. Even when they cannot do the things the younger generation does, they like to watch. It makes, them part of what is going on. An occa-sional movie or a short excursion is sometimes most welcome. Ap-propriate occupations and recreations should be provided. Some religious are more efficient at seventy than others at fifty. Old people --religious are no exception--should be kept as active as possible to I72 ' duly, 1951 COMMUNICATIONS' make rise of their skills and preserve their morale. When they are occupied, they are happy. Properly selected bccupational .therapy exercises arthritic hands and encourages the use of affected extremltle~, preventing complete invalidism. Most activities tend to. stimulate normal functions and to counteract the tendency to apathy, brooding, and introspection. Anything that will preserve the self respect and dignity of old age should be appropriated .for the rise of our elderly religious. They should not be permitted to lose their identity in an atmosphere of depressing gloom and finality. Sickness or dependence of any kind is often a. degrading enough experience in itself. Above all, we must not call attention to their infi~rfiities, if they have any, not even with affectionate attention. Sur.~ly, .it is their right and privilege to have their few remaining years happy and free from worry. The aged are here td stay for longer periods th~n ever. The living and working conditions, then, of our dear aged religious should be a considerate concern of every one. And besides, none of us is getting any younger. Communications Reverend Fathers : In the March issue of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, I read with consternation ,the letter of,Sister M. Catherine Eileen, S.H.M. Since one might be misled by Sister's optimism (justifiable in her particular case), I think a little more information on the fenestration operatiori is essential.' A.few of Sister's statements also should be clarified. Sister writes: "There is fenestration surgery now to cure the type of deafness known as otosclerosis." However, men who have dis-tinguished themselves in this work say that it is only an amelioration of this disease and a restoration of serviceable hearing in suitable cases and,the~results are not as yet individually predictable. There are some who would disagree with Sister when she sa'ys, "Any otologist can diagnose this most prevalent kind of deafness." They hold that there is no method upon which one can depend with absolute certainty for the diagnosis of otosclerosis and that surgery on one afflicted with pathology wbich simulates but is n6t otoscler-osis will not improve the hearing of the individual. 173 COMMUNICATIONS "Some'time to re~over" may mean a period of years accompanied by a discharging ear. Whether or not the operation is successful, the ear will require care for the remainder of the patient's life, i.e., peri-odic visits to the ear specialist. This perhaps is not too great a price if the hearing is improved but rather a steep one if no improvement has resulted. Sister's" c~se does seem successful and I don't wonder she is so enthusiastic. To those whose hopes might have been raised by Sis-ter's zeal, I should say seek the advice of one who has an enviable reputation in the field of ear surgery. May I quote'one such otol-ogist, "In a suitable case the decision between operation and a hearing aid is a question which should be decided by the individual." Anyone who is further interested may write to the American Hearing Society, Washington 7, D. C., and get a copy of Hearing NewS, March 1948, from which I have taken the information con-tained in this letter. The New York League for the Hard of Hearing did not have any later available data on the subject. --SISTER HELEN LOYOLA, C.S.J. ' OUR CONTRIBUTORS JOSEPH M. COLLERAN, the translator of St. Augustine's Greatness of Soul and The Teacher in the "Ancient Christian Writers" series, is a professor of philosophy at Mount St. Alphonsus Seminary, Esopus, New York. SISTER MARY JANE taught both elementary and high school' for twenty-five years before entering the fidld of nursing. She is now an affiliate at the Brooklyn State Hospital for the mentally ill. ANSELM LACOMARA, a missionary and writer, is from Our Mother of Sorrows Monastery, West Sprihgfield, Massachusetts. WINFRID HERBST, au-thor and retreat master, is on the faculty of the Salvatorian Seminary, St. Nazianz, Wisconsin. JOSEPH F. GALLEN is a professor of canon law at Woodstock Col-lege, Woodstock, Maryland. VACATION SC~HOOL IN SOCIAL ACTION St. Francis Xavier University, Antigonish, Nova Scotia, is offering a vacation school in social action for priests and seminarians from August 14-25. There will be lecture courses, combining exposition and opportunity for discussion, on the spiritual foundation of social action and on organizing the parish for social action. The director is the Reverend D. MacCormack. 174 Redemptorist: Spirit:ualit:y Joseph M. Colleran, C.SS.R. WHEN St. Alphonsus de Liguori, in 1732, gathered a groupof ¯ priests and brothers to form the Congregation of the Most Holy Redeemer, he intended primarily to 6rganize a band of missionaries to evangelize the neglected country districts of his native Kingdom of Naples, and later, of other parts of the world, and everywhere to preach redemption and repentance to "the most abandoned souls." That its concentration upon this precise .field of apostolic activity constitutes the sole feature disting.uishing the con-" gregation from other religious institutes is the impression given, upon first reading, by the .explanatory constitutions which the saint added in 1764, and which, in this respect, remain the same today. "Every Religious Institute proposes to itself a two-fold end:the first is its own sanctification, the second the salvation of the people and the good of the Church. The former is general, the latter special, and it is by this that the various. Religious Orders differ from one. another . With regard to the second end, by which we ,are dis-tinguished from all other Orders and Religious InstitUtes within the Church, the Rule enjoins that . . . by preaching l~he Word'of God, we should labor to lead the people to a holy life~, especially those who, being scattered in villages and hamlets, are ,most deprived of spiritual help--and this is our specific end" (Constitutions 1 and 5). From the very beginning, howeverl Alphonsus himself practiced, and inculcated upon his spiritual family, a type'of spirituality that would best fit in with this apostolic purpose and would be a distinc-tive mark of his little congregation. This pattern of ascetical formation became more clear and systematic as time went on, and its principles were more exactly formularized as the saint undertook to publish for his followers and for the universal Church, his popular and practical treatises on ascetical and pastoral theology. St. Alphonsus realized deeply that fruitful apostolic activity and personal sanctity were inextricably connected. The sermon that is most effective is the one' that has been lived before it is preached. The asceticism that is most valuable to an apostle is the one that most readily overflows into works of zeal and charity. For that reason he insisted upon an exact proportion between the active labors of the 175 JOSEPH M. COLLERAN Revieud for Religious ministry and the retired contefnplation of.the monastery. He would have his priests be "Carthusians at home and apostles abroad." It was always his ideal that missionaries spend no more than six months of each year in the actual work of the missions, "lest the active life overbalance the contemplative, to their spiritual loss" (Const. 108). He:would have the Coadjutor Brothers, who are engaged in prayer and domestic work, as well as the Sisters of the co.mpanion institu'te, the "Redemptoristines,", not only consecrate themselves to self-sanctification, but also offer their labors and devo~ tions vicariously for the success of the missions. Thus, the saint's pastoral and ascetical directions are inseparable, and together they indicate the spirit of the institute that would continue his labors and copy his way of living with God. The Facets ot: Love Our Lord tells us that the great commandment, for the apostle to preach and for the religious to practice to perfection, is to Iove the Lord thq God u2ith thai whole heart (Mark 12:30),°and St. Paul likewise makes it plain that all Christians must above all things bare cbaritg, which is the bond of perfection (Col. 3:14). While some masters of the spiritual life propose the practice of the various spe-cific virtues as means toward the acquisition of love--so that morti-fication, for example, arises from penance and leads to love--others, like Saints Bernard, Bonaventure, Francis de Sales, propose love as the beginning, th~ seed out of which the other virtues grow. X~v'ithin this second, so-called "seraphic" school, Alphonsus must be num-bered. 1 Love, he recognized, includes and requires both hope and fear. Against Jansenism, whose rigoristic spirit, despite its condemnation, was still deterring sinners from approaching God with confidence and was influencing confessors to demand signs of perfect love before they would grant absolution and permit Communion, the Saint inveighed vigorously. For his more benign practices, he was accused of laxity.At the same time, be fell prey to charges of severity from writers who, holding on to relics of Quietism, were averse to strenu-ou~ ascetical activity, under the pretext of passive indifference. He insisted that his missionaries r~alistically set before the people, to incite them to conversion and fervor, the reality of hell. And out of :tCf. A. Desurmont, C.SS.R., Oeuores Completes, tome 1, L'Art d'Assurer Son Salut. Paris, Libraire de la Sainte Famille, 1906. Introduc~don, p. 23 f. See also C. Keusch, C.SS.R., Die Aszetik des hi. Alfons Maria v6n Liguori. Pader-born, Bonifacius-Druckerei, 1926. P. 236 f. 176 July, 1951 REDEMPTORIST SPI'RITU~ALITY his own missionary experiences,' he formed judgments that other saints and doctors would probably not have expressed so boldly for instance: "If God had not created be!l, wh6 in. the whole world would love Him? If, with hell existing as it really does, the greater part of men choose rather to be damned than to love Almighty God, who, I repeat, would love Him were there no hell? And therefore the Lord threatens those who will not love Him, with an eternal punishment, so that those who will not love Him out of love may at least love Him by force, being constrained to do so through fear of falling into hell.''-~ The keynote of all his exhortations is'salvation, the individual participation in the merits of Christ's Redemption, and salvation is to be. worked out with fear and trembling (Philipp. 2:12). This fear, or more exactly, this love that involves fear, has a function in every grade of the spiritual life. In sinners, Alphonsus aimed to awaken fear by warning them of the eventual limit to the sins that God would forgive, and the limit .to the graces that God would provide. He tirelessly reminds them of the imminence of death, the terrors of hell, the imperative need of conversion. He warns them solemnly" of the fearful dangers of the "occasions of sin." "In regard t9. those striving for perfection', he also has recourse to the motive of fear, although it is prin.c.i.i0Mly the filial fear of losing God and of losing the special graces that are attached to a higher vocation. He voices the warning that although vocation to the religious state is a free gift that does.not imply a strict obligation, yet because special graces are attached i!o this state, it 'is most difficult to attain salvation if one neglects his vocation. Because perseverance is a grace that can be lost by failure to pray, and by lack of correspondence with grace, there is still reason, even in the state of pe.rfeCtion, to fear. (In his own congregation, he added to the three customary vows, a vow and oath of perseverance.) In re~ard to religious, too, he strikds hard at "tepidity," which he identifies as the habit of deliberate venial sin, and which he considers a state to be avoided" with fear. If the saint seems at times encouraging and at times severe, it is only because he is presenting, one at a time and each in its own clarity, the facets of love: confidence and fear. It is, however, con-fidence that predo.minates: "If we have great reason to fear ever-lasting death on account of our offences against God, wfi have, on 2Ditzine Love, II, in The Way of,Salvation and of Perfection, part III. Brookl~n, Redemptorist Fathers, 1926. P. 311 f. 177 JOSEPH M. COLLERAN Review for Religious the other hand, far greater reason to hope for everlasting life through the merits of Jesus Christ, which are infinitely more able to bring tlon.ab°ut" ,,a°ur salvation, than our sins are to bring about our damna- The Practice o[ Love In complete harmony with the long tradition of saints and theo-logians, but with an insistence and clarity peculiarly hi~s own, Alphonsus points out that the measure and the practical test of love of God is conforroit~. , or better, uniformity, of one's will with the Will of God. "Conformity" ~.involves the acceptance of whatever God intend~ for us or permits to happen to us. "Uniformity" sig-nifies our blending our own will as it were, into the Divine Will, so that we .never desire but wh.'a~"[God desires, and there remains only the Will of God, which becomes our own. "The entire perfection of the love of God," the saint writes, "consists in making our own will one with His most holy will . The more united a person is with the Divine Will, the greater will be his love of God . This is the summit of the perfection to which we must be ever aspiring. This has to be the aim of all our work, all our desires, all our meditations and prayers.''4 For Redempto~rists especia.lly, as Alphonsus conceives their voca-tion, uniformity with the Will of God involves two essential require-me, nts. The first is negative: detachment from all created things. The second, more positive means, is imitation of Christ the Redeemer. Detachment While, of course, the conception of detachment is not new with Alphonsus, he gave it such emphasis and priority that he made it a distinctive characteristic of his ascetical doitrine. "Detachment" signifies the exclusion from the heart of everything that is inordinate and alien to perfection; it invplves the denial to self of anything material that does not serve sanctification; it implies the performance of unpleasant rather than of pleasant actions, and greater charity toward the ungrateful than toward the grateful, as signs and means of more ardent love of God; it even requires the sacrifice of certain 3Tbe Practice of the Love of Jesus Christ, Introd., III, in The Hol~t Eucharist. Brooklyn, Redemptorist Fathers, 1934. P. 285 f. 4Conformit£l with the Will of God, I, in The Way of Salvation and of Perfection, part-III, pp. 353, 358. 178 duly, 1951 REDEMPTORIST SPIRITUALITY virtuous actions when the higher demands of charity or obedience conflict with them.5 So important did he consider this purification of the heart as a preparation for advancement in perfection that in the little treatise, The True Redemptorist, which he wrote for his first members, he confines himself to this one point, and reduces the special requirements of any applicants to _a four-fold detachment: from the comforts of life, from relatives, from self-esteem, and from self-will. ¯ The practice of poverty he kept as strict and uncompromising as an active apostolate would allow; and the peculium and any other method of private control of material things, he excluded rigorously from the very beginning. The "common life" he. ev.e.r.,g.uarded jeal-ously, and he manifests his legal tr.aining in the deta~i'~'and precision of his enumerations of things allowed and forbiddeti." The things provided for common use, the amount of the portions at table, the size, number, and materials of various furnishings for the rooms be determined with exactitude and uniformity. Under the vow of poverty is incIuded the renunciation of a bishopric or any other ecclesiastical dignity or benefice outside, the congregation, unless the Holy Father commands its acceptance. Knowing from experience, sometimes from the bitter experience of defections from his infant institute, that the people of his time and land were often loath to permit their sons to make sacrifice of themselves in r~llgion, he was adamant about detachment from rela-tives. In answer to a request from a sick. subject who wanted to go home for the freshness of his native air, he replied that "home air is always pestilential to the religious spirit." When one who was ill offered to go to his relatives, to save expense to the community, he quickly answered that the congregation would sell ~ts books to take care of the sick. The strictness of the saint's rules and written'com-ments on detachment from seculars is balanced by his efforts to promote in his communities the hospitality and brotherliness of family life. Insistent as be is that individual desires be restricted to needs, he is even more insistent that .t.he community provide for every need to the extent that is possible. Self-esteem and independence of will he opposed as mortal dis-eases. Not only did be insist on individuals giving up all ambition for preferment and distinction, but he would have the'institute itself 5Detachment from Creatures in The Way of Salvation and of Perfection, part II, XLI; also Divine Love, ibid., pp. 317-19. 179 JOSEPH M. CoLLERAN Review for Religious humbly accounted the least of all in the Church. Although the work for which each must be ready is preaching, he deprecated'anyone's: putting himself forward to preach without waiting for designation by superiors. "He only has the spirit of the institute," he wrote, "who enters it with the desire of practicing obedience, and,of sub-mitting peacefully to be put away in some corner without having any employment, happy that the good is done by others, while he himself will only do that which is.directly imposed upon him by obedience, without having asked for it.''~ "Re-living the Redemption The imitation of Christ that he proposed to his members is not only the general one that is obligatory on all, but a concentration upon the formally redemptive phase of Christ's life, the motto of his congregation being Gopiosa Apud Eum Redemptio. This emphasis affects both the active apostol~te and the ascetical development of Redemptorists. " They are to be employed only in those tasks that have to do directly with the salvation of souls, and indeed, so far.as is ordi-narily possible, only in those that Christ and His ApoStles per-formed. Hence the principal field of labor is the conducting of mis-sions, in ~vhich the essential and fundamental truths are preached, with a view to converting souls from sin to the state of grace, from inconstancy to perseverance in virtue, and from ordinary fidelity to Christian perfection. Occupations that are not in harmony with the work of redemption ifi the strictest sense, such as t~aching secular subjects in schools, parochial work, the conducting of orphanages, and the like, were deliberately excluded by Alphonsus, and have tra-ditionally been accepted only rarely and temporarily, as need arose and higher authority commanded. The apostolate of red.emption extends to all classes of people, but preference is strictly to be given to the poor,,, to those who have been abandoned by others, and to those found far from those centers of population where the means of salvation are more readily within reach. The style of preaching set by the saint is affective, rather than argumentative; simple, rather than ornate; apostolic, rather than academic. It was his aim to set OThe True Rederoptorist. This short work, with slight alterations to .adapt it to all religious, and with preliminary chapters on detecting and preserving vocations, was also published by Alphonsus under the title Counsels Concerning a Religious Vocation. This treatise is available in English, in the volume The Great Means of Salvation and of Perfection. Broot').yn. Redemptorist Fathers, 1927. Pp. 381- 417. , The sentence which is here quoted from the Manua[e Presbyterorum C.SS.I~. does not appear in the reprint. 180 Jul~,1951 REDEMPToRIsT SPIRITUALITY up in the garden of the Church, not an exalted fountain that would impressively spray its streams on high, but a rivulet that would seep into the ground to nurture and fructify the lowly and the towering growths alike. Since He who saves is He who sanctifies, the Redeemer is the model of asceticism too. "The end of the Institute of the Most Holy Redeemer is no other than to unite priests to live together, and ear-nestly strive to imitate the virtues and example of Jesus Christ, our Redeemer, devoting themselves kpecially to the preaching of the word of God to the poor" (Text of Ruie, Introduction). The Passion is proposed as the customary subject of all evening meditations, and the central act of R~edemption is the.core of all Redemptorist devo-tion. It is likewise the pattern of their personal efforts at self-sacrifice: "the members of our Institute, after the example of the R~deemer, ought to spend their lives in thb endurance of sufferings, and should have a great hatred of a comfortable and luxurious life." (Const. 489). True it is that Alphonsus taught in his writings and inculcated in his religious various devotions in honor of Christ; he was, for example, one of the most ardent proponents of devotion to the Sacred Heart, which, in his time, was "opposed by some writers'and often avoided in practice. But crib and cross and altar are the principal themes of his devotional exhortations, the cross being central, the crib its forerunner, and the altar its keepsake. To devotion toward the Blessed Sacrament he made a tremendous ¯ contribution by his Visits to the Blessed Sacrament, originally in-tended for his own novices but in time spread throughout the world with a popularity that P~re Pourrat compares to that of the Imita-tion of Christ.7 Adoration, thanksgiving, and reparation are the sentiments he would awaken in his followers in regard to the con-tinual presence of the R~deemer among us. He could conceive of no devotion to the Redeemer that did not include devotion to Christ's Persoflal Relic of the redemption. It is true of Alphonsian asceticism, as it is true of practically every modern school, that it is not so liturgically centered as that of St. Benedict. Nevertheless, Alphonsus quite definitely recognized the primacy among devotions that belongs to the Mass. For the laity he wrote The Sacrifice of desus Christ, expounding the doctrine of sacrifice and the meaning of the prayers; for priests he published "a 7Cf. P. Pourrat, La Spiritualit~ Chr~tienne, tora~ 4. Paris, Gabalda, 1947. P. 456. 181 JOSEPH M. COLLERAN Reoiew [or Religious book on The Ceremonies of the Mass, and another, a devotional one, on Preparation and Thanksgiving. The devout and affectionate prayers he composed have as their purpose the extension throughout the. day of the spiritual benefits of the Holy Sacrifice. He also recog-nized the importance of the official prayer of the Church, requiring the Divine Office to be recited in the various communities when the 'missionaries are not engaged in apostolic works. The Mother's Place St. Alphonsus was one of the principal expositors and defenders, in the dogmatic field, of the doctrine of the universal mediation of Mary. As a corollary of this teaching that all graces come through her hands, he taught that some devotion to her is morally necessary for salvation. In asceticism, also, he proclaimed that imitation of the Divine Redeemer involves, a wholehearted and practical devotion to His Mother. In both their personal lives and in their apostolic works, be would have Redemptorists Mary-minded. Preachers are urged to make mention of the intercession of the Blessed Mother in every discourse; every series of sermons or instructions is to include at least one talk devoted to her. From the time of Alphonsus until the definition of the dogma, Redemptorists were required to take an oath that they would defend and teach the truth of the Immaculate Conception; and under this title Mary is the principal patron of the congregation. The saint insists emphatically that Mary is the keeper of vocations; in his congregation the perseverance of every member is committed to the care of the Virgin most faithful. The Practice oF Virtues To facilitate and intensify the practice of virtues, Alphonsus pro-poses the method of concentrating explicitly on one at a time. His original rule was arranged in twelve parts, each of which set forth one virtue. Each "rule" wasit'self rather a short exposition of the relation of the virtue of the R~deemer and an application, rather ex-hortatory and devotional than diregtive and legalistic, to the life of a religious. Each rule is followed.by a "constitution" that gives more detailed and specific directions. In 1749, the Rules and Constitutions were put into a more formal a~d legal structure, but one constitution still directs the special practice of a single virtue each month. In the order of the months of the year these virtues are proposed: faith, l~ope, love of God, charity toward one another, poverty, chastity, obedience, humility, mortification, recollection, prayer, and self- 182 dul~ , 1951 REDEMPTORIST SPIRITUALITY denial with love of the Cross. These virtues, in turn, are to consti-tute the subject-matter of meditations, of particular examens, and of exhortations by superiors during the respective months. Such a division gives ease, simplicity; order, and solidity to the acquisition of virtue, and with all the members of the institute making an effort to concentrate upon one virtue at the same time, each individual is to find in the common activity a strong external support and example. Furthermore, since the different virtues are always considered as phases of the life of the Redeemer and as means of being united with Him, such repeated concentration upon each one serves to impress the mind with the richness of the Divine Model, and to strengthen the will to accept Christ's life as one's own. The Primacy/of Pra{/er The genius for simplicity and practicality that Alpbonsus .pos-sessed shines out pre-eminently in his teachings on prayer. The singular importance he attaches to prayer, he indicates succinctly in the title of one of his most famous works: The Great Means of Sal-vation and of Perfection. Well knovcn is the practical conclusion with which he cut through the learned and endless theological con-troversies on the efficacy of 'grace and predestination: "He .who prays is certainly saved. He who does not pray is certainly lost . Pray, pray, never cease to pray. For if you pray, your salvation will be secure; but if you stop praying, your damnation will be certain.''s No less does he insist that perfection depends upon prayer. He would have religious life a life of prayer, flowering into a continual "con-versation with God," where God speaks to the soul through His vis-ible creations and the impulses of His graces, and the soul responds with acts of love and gratitude. Prayer, for Alphonsus, is nothing less than the breath of super-natural life. Only by praying do we receive efficacious grace to per-form meritorious acts; only by pr~ying do we obtain the help to overcome temptations; only by praying do we acquire the light to know God's Will for us and thestrength to fulfill our vocations; only by praying do we acquire the grace of perseverance; only by praying, indeed, do we acquire the g~ft of praying sufficiently, and of being constant in making our requests. Mental prayer he considers morally necessary as a means to incite the prayer of petition, without which God does not grant the divine 8The Great Means of Salvation and of Perfection. Brooklyn, Redemptorist Fathers, 1927. Part I, ch. 1, p. 49 and Part II, ch. 4, p. 240. 183 ,JOSEPH M. COLLERAN helps, the lack of which, in turn, frustrates all attempts to observe either commandments or counsels. For mental prayer manifests one's spiritual n'eeds, the dangers to his progress, and the measures of improvement to be adopted; and all these stimulate him to prayers of petition. So far as the "meditation" itself is concerned, he reviews and recommends the usual methods that had been developed and proposed by the saints, especially by Theresa and Ignatius. His special and distinctive concern, however, is not with the method of meditation, but with the "affections, petitions, and resolutions" which are to follow upon the considerations as the thread follows the needle, for these constitute the real fabric of mental prayer. In the affections, he would have repeated acts of love, humility, gratitude, confidence, and contrition. Petition should be concerned, above all, with for-giveness of past sins, increase of love, and perseverance until death. Resolutions should be practical, specific, and usually limited to the near future. Petition is the most important of all, and this is the meaning of the saint's striking statement: "To pray is better than to meditate"--that is, petition is of much more .value thanconsidera-tion of trflth. This stress upon acts of the will-rather than on acts of the intel-lect, this priority of affections over considerations, the saint himself illustrates in all his writings and, most notably perhaps, in his familiar Visits to the Blessed Sacrament, where there is frequent and easy transition from description and exposition to fervent iorayer. This procedure facilitates progress from the more common discursive type of mental prayer to habitual recollection and the prayer of simple regard, which prepare the soul for infused contemplation. The school of perfection of~ which Alphonsus is master is thus a simple and practical trainings~ool in uniformity with the Will of (Sod, by imitation of the Redeemer on the cross and closeness to the Redeemer in the tabernacle, by0~etachment from creatures, by prayer of petition, and by tender deybtion to the Virgin Co-Redeemer. There is no favor the saint would ask for his institute but the privi-lege of continuing the effects of Calvary's Cross; for he prayed: "Per-fect Thy work, 0 Lord, and fo~ Tby glory make us all Thine own; so that all the members of this Congregation, even to the day of judgment, may continue to please Thee perfectly, and to gain for Thee a countless number of souls." 184 -Quest:ions t or Mon :hly Recoiled:ion Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. yOU asked for it. You requested a series of questions for your monthly recollection~uestions that will elicit good resolves urging on to greater perfection in religious observance. And I am glad you realize there is no nobler ideal to strive for than perfect religious observance according to your constitutions. "Make an accounting of thy stewardship" (Luke 16:2). Do this in medita-tive self-examination. Take the following series, not exhaustive by ,any means, but sufficient for your purpose. Place yourself in the presence of Almighty God, before whom, at what hour you know not, you will appear for judgment, and in the presence of your guardian angel. Recall to mind the many graces and benefits bestowed upon you, an unworthy sinner, from the first mo-ment of your existence, and also during the past month. Then humbly consider the following points. 1. What is my service of God like? Do I render tribut~e of Mass and my Office devoutly, in a holy manner, in God:s presence, and without haste? Do I act on the principle that thoughtless haste kills all real devotion? 2. Do I do what is to be done before, at the beginning of, and after my daily meditation? 3. Am I able to look death in the eye without fear? How ashamed would I be to meet Jesus my Judge,now? What am I doing to make myself less ashamed, by living in continual recollec-tion and fraternal charity? 4. Do I try to increase in. personal[ love for Jesus by thinking often of His love for me? Can I, too, exclaim: ".In whatsoever, place Thou shalt be, my Lord and King, either in death or. in life, there ~ill Thy servant be"? (2 Kings 15:21.) o. 5. Whose room is the better, Jesus's (Bethlehem's cave) or mine? What can I do to make mine 19.ok more like His in poverty? 6. Do I recall that Jesus's hidden life says to me, "Family (com-munity) life means charity"? 'Am I trying hard to make others and myself happy in community life by adhering zealously to my prac-tice of increasing acts of charity and considerateness? 185 x,VINFRID HERBST 7. Am I giving to God what He so insistently asks of me: uni-versal, beautiful, fraternal charity and gentle helpfulness, especially in community life? Am I giving it all geneiously, despite the fact that. it is hard? 8. And am I giving Him this other thing for which He asks with similar insistence and which is equally hard: numerous ejacu-lations every day combined with the greatest possible recollection? 9. Have I the habitual disposition rather to suffer anything than commit a deliberate venial sin? Do I occasionally aspire to the third degree of humility, desiring to do and actually doing some hard things just because I want to be more like Jesus and out of love for Him, forgetting the reward? 10. Do I look upon all the rules, even the smallest, as the express will of God in my regard and observe them accordingly, realizing that I can save souls in this manner without even leaving the cloister walls? 11. Do I, for love of Jesus crucified, practice little acts of morti-fication daily, in folding the hands, in kneeling, and in a score of other simple ways? Do I restrain myself at table when I would eat too eagerly? 12. Do I recall that the body of Jesus was placed into a tomb "wherein no man had yet been laid," and do I place His living body into a heart that is new every morning in its purity and fervor, into a heart that is prepared for Him? 13. Do I strive to maintain within myself that spirit of joy and holy gladness without which there can be no real progress in the spiritual life? Do I show it exteriorly, as I ought to? 14. Do I value my vocation as my pearl of great price? 15. Do I try to love God because He is the Supreme Good, of whom the goodness of all creatures is but a faint reflection? It seems to me that it is because of such striving after perfection there are so many beautiful souls in this world. These souls make one resolve not to be outdone in goodness even while they almost fill one with despair of keeping pace with them. PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The subscription price of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is now: $3.00 per year for Domestic and Canadian subscriptions; $3.35 per year for all foreign subscrip-tions. For further details please see inside back cover. 186 I:lections and Appointments Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. ELECTIONS a.nd appointments to office are not a daily occur- .fence in the religious life but they are of supreme and lasting importance. The observations that follow concern congrega-tions of Sisters and Brothers. The law of the Code of Canon Law and the practice of the Holy See in approving constitutions are almost the same for Brothers as for Sisters., These observations are not a complete canonical commentary but are limited to the more impor- ¯ .rant and, perhaps, more human elements of elections and appoint-ments. It is evident that each institute must follow it~ own consti-tutions, but some of the suggestions given below can be pondered by all congregations. They may not be contained in the constitutions, but they ycill not be contrary to the constitutions. I. The Elective Sgstern Religious chapters in virtue of canon 507, § 1 are obliged to observe the canonical norms for elections prescribed in canons 160- 182. The Code does not determine what religious in an institute are to be the members of a general or provincial chapter, and here we encounter the first difficulty in elections. Several diocesan congrega-tions of Sisters and a few pontifical institutes that retain the govern-mental structure of an independent monastery' of nuns have what is commonly called the direct vote. In other words every Sister of perpetual vows is a member of the elective chapters. The difticulty arises in this matter when the diocesan congregation wishes'to be-come pontifical or when the pontifical institute described above de-cides finally to conform its constitutions, to its actual life by a general revision. The direct vote must be g.iven.up. The Holy See demands the system of delegates for botl4?'the general and the provincial chapters. First of all, this difficulty is q.r should be practical for several congregations in the United States. The new quinquennial report for diocesan congregations is pellucid on the point that it is the will of the Holy See that very many of the diocesan congregations in the United States should become pontifical. The pontifical congregations alluded to above should institute a general revision of their constitu-tions. It does not seem reasonable to maintain that constitutions 187 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious devised for the relatively small community of one house of enclosed nuns are suitable for a congregation of several hundred Sisters, scat-tered in various houses and cities, and laboring in the active life. A protest against giving up the direct vote is really futile and unreasonable. If the Holy See has now for more than half a century constantly demanded the system of delegates, what is the utility of wishing to retain the direct vote? The Holy See corrects the pro-posed constitutions and will insert the system of delegates if it is riot in the constitutions. Is it likely that a protes} against such a pro-longed and.constant practice of the Holy See is reasonable? The Holy See, in 1901, published a plan of constitutions, called the Norrnae, on which the constitutions of lay congregations that wished to be approved by the Holy See had to be based. These Normae are still in effect in so far as they have not been modified by the Code of Canon Law or the later practice of the Holy See. The Norrnae demanded the system of delegates and prescribed that the general chapter was to be composed, of the general officials, of all the superiors of houses of at least twelve religious and one delegate elec.ted by each of these houses, and finally of one superior and one non-superior delegate elected by smaller houses, which were to be united into elective groups of at least twelve religious. The constitutions could also make former superiors general members of the chapter. If the institute was divided into provinces, the provincials and two elected delegates from each province supplanted the superiors and delegates from the houses. The provincial chapter was to be composed of the provincial officials and the superiors and delegates from the houses as described above for the general chapter. Further-more, we have published corrections of constitutions which show that the Holy See was demanding the system of delegates at least as far back as 1887.1 Diocesan congregations also .should have the system of delegates. It is an admitted principle that diocesan constitutions should con-form to those of pontifical congregations except in matters that are proper to the latter institutes. The system of delegates is in no sense proper to pontifical congregations. The mind of the Holy See on this point is sufficiently indicated by the plan of constitutions pub-lished in 1940 by the Sacred Congregation of the Propagation of 1Analecta'Ecclesiastica IV (1896), 158, n. 12; VI (1898), 57, n. 1; Battandier, Guide Canonique, 4th edit., 1908, n. 300; Bastien, Directoire Canonique, 1st edit., 1904, n. 431. 188 Jut~, 1951 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS the Faith for diocesan missionary congregations. This plan pre-scribes the system of deleggtes. Reason itself manifests the necessity of the system of delegates. Some of the institutes that have the direct vote can have a chapter of four hundred religious and even more. This is obviously an inefficient number. The vote for the superior general can go to four ballots. Imagine the labor, difficulty, and weariness merely of counting six-teen hundred votes! Each vote must then be opened, examined, and recorded. Then follow six other elections, each capable of going to three ballots. How can a chapter of affairs be efficiently and expedi-tiously conducted when the assembly numbers several hundred? A pontifical congregation of twelve hundred religious divided into four provinces will have a general chapter, exclusive of former superiors general, of nineteen members. As opposed to this practice of the Holy See, a congregation of three hundred religious with the direct vote will have an elective chapter of approximately two hundred 'religious. The opposition of the direct vote to the practice of the Holy See, to reason, and efficiency is so evident that further argumen-tation would only torture the obvious. The principle of the system of delegates is not proportioiaal representation. A province of a thousand will have the same number of delegates as a province of four hundred. Proportional representa-tion is not necessary, since the purpose of a chapter is the good of the congregation as a whole. The capitulars should divest themselves of the narrowness of merely local interests, prejudices, and ambitions and consider only the interests of the entire congregation or prov-ince. It is of no import that the United States, or the East, or the West should get its turn at the office of superior general. Not only the one important principle but the one principle of the election is that the congregation should get the best possible superior general. A greater appreciation of and fidelity.".to this principle would not only effect better elections but would also' assure a more peaceful sequel to some elections. : The system of delegates brings to a chapter a sufficient and effi-cient number of capitulars, who are from all parts of the congrega- ¯ tion and can thus give the information necessary for a knowledge of the congregation as a whole. However, no elective system is an ade-quate substitute for the study, prayer, and purity of intention re-quired for a proper vote. Capitulars can rush into this most impor-tant matter unprepared, grasp at the first prominent name or most 189 " JOSEPH F, GALLEN Review for Religious striking personality, and give a vote that may be firm but not thoughtful. They should previously have studied all religious known to them who are possibly qualified for the consult one another on those qualified, but they are forbidden to electioneer. Prayer is never useless, but in preparation for an election it is especially necessary. Vital prayer brings a peaceful sleep to pre-judice and passion, and t~hese are the natural enemies of a proper election. The illumination and strength of prayer are required to vote for the one God wants rather than the one I like, to vote 'according to the will of God rather than according to the choice of any group. Prayer will bring purity of intention by which the vote will be given to the one most competent and will exclude self-interest, sectionalism, and nationalism. II. Elect Only When Necessary 1. General Officials. The designation of superiors and officials is a matter of internal government and thus appertains to the institute itself. The superio~ general must be elected by the general chapter, since this chapter is the only superior higher than himself in the insti-tute. The general councillors are also elected by the general chapter. This is the reasonable method of designation rather than appoint-ment by the superior general. No superior should choose his own councillors, since ther~ is danger that he would select only those of the same mind as himself or those who would be pliable to his own will. This would be opposed to the canonical concept of canon 105, 3°, which commands a councillor to give his opinion not only respectfully but also truthfully and sincerely. The purpose of a council is to preclude a government that would otherwise be purely individual. At least occasional dissent and opposition of councillors is inherent in the obligation of superiors of seeking the advice and consent of their council. In almost all congregations of Sisters and Brothers the general. chapter also elects the secretary general and the bursar general, but the Sacred Congregation of Religious in approving constitutions also permits that these two general "officials be appointed by the superior general with consent of his council. In my judgment this is the preferable method. The secretary and bursar as such have no part in government. The secretary is merely what his name implies, a secretary and an archivist. The bursar is a treasurer and a bookkeeper. No attribute of these offices demands an election by the general chap-ter. I think we can go further and maintain the following principle 190 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS as practical: an elective chapter is a sufficiently compet.ent judge of the broad human qualities required for government but is not a good judge of specialized abilities. Chapters have elected secretaries who ~ould not type and bursars who knew nothing of keeping books. What has been said of the secretary and bursar is much more true of the director of schools, or studies, the inspector general of hospitals, and, above all, of the novice master who are elected by the general chapter in a few congregations. The procurator general in congregations of Brothers is also an official of specialized abilities. 2. Provincial Ogicials. The Code of Canon Law does not de-termine the method of designation of the provincial superior, the provincial councillors, or the provincial secretary and bursar. In theory at least the constitutions may determine whether the designa-tion of these officials is to be by appointment of the superior general with the con~sent of his council or by election in a provincial chapter. However, many things that are left undetermined in the Code are determined by the practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in approving constitutions, although that is not completely, true in the present instance. Nevertheless, it is most worthy of note that the Normae described above mention only the appointment of provincial officials by the superior general. It is also significant that the two outstanding authors on the practice of the Sacred Cdngregation for the constitutions of lay congregations, Bastien2 and Battandier,"~ do not even mention the designation of provincial officials by election. Looking through thirty sets of constitutions of pontifical congrega-tions of Sisters and Brothers, I find that twenty-six appoint and only four elect the provincial officials in a provincial chapter. It thus ¯ appears more than evident that appointment is by far the preponder-ating method of designation in the practice of the Holy See. Reason itself commends the method of appointment. If the term of office of the provincial is three years, a provincial chapter is neces-sary every three years. Experience seems to prove that the election year is also a distracted year. This argument is not so fdrc~ful when the term of the elected provincial isosix years, as is sometimes pre-scribed in constitutions. The usual norm also is that the superi6r general or his delegate presides at a provincial chapter in which pro-vincial officials are elected. The territorial extent of congregation~ divided into provinces is usually very extensive. If the superior gen- 9Directoire Canonique, nn. 239, 3; 381; 387-389. 8Guide Canonique, n. 505. 191 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious eral believes that he should personally preside at these chapters, he is faced with a burden of travel that can interfere with the duties of general government. It is to be remembered that he is already obliged to make a canonical visitation of his entire institute at least once during his term of office. It is also the ordinary norm of constitu-tions that the superior general with the consent of his council must confirm the election of the provincial officials. These cannot validt~t enter on their offices before they are confirmed. For example, if a religious who is elected provincial superior places any act as provin-cial before being confirmed, that act is null and void (canon 176, § 3). Furthermore, the superior general should, at least outside of an urgent case, assemble his council to secure their vote (canon 105, 2°). The members of a council, at least ordinarily, are to give their opinion in an assembly of the council and not by individual and separate replies to the superior. It is certainly somewhat contradic-tory, as also inconvenient and difficult, that the superior general should ordinarily preside over a provincial chapter and yet ordinarily be present with his council to confirm the election. 3. Is a prooincial chapter necessar~l? A provincial chapter always elects the delegates to the general chapter. It is almost universally true that these delegates are two in number. In some institutes the provincial chapter also decides on the, proposals that are to be sub-mitted to the chapter of affairs in the general chapter, and in a few congregations the provincial chapter may make financial and dis-ciplinary enactments for the province, which, however, are not effective until they are confirmed by the general council. A provincial chapter brings together superiors and delegates from the entire prov-ince. It thus entails the suspension of other works by the members for the duration of the chapter and also the expenditure of a sufficient amount of money for travel. The latter consideration is of no small moment in congregations of ~is~ers and Brothers. It is a safe pre-sumption that such institutes are so poor that economy becomes a basic principle of conduct. It must be admitted that in the practice of the Holy See the pro-vincial chapter is almost the universal means of electing the delegates to the general chapter. However, th~ Holy See has also approved the following method. Those of active voice assemble in each house under the presidency of their local superior. Each vocal writes on the one ballot the names of the two Sisters that she elects as delegates to the general chapter. The local superior encloses these in an 192 dulq, 1951 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS envelope with her own vote, seals the en,~elope in the presence of the vocals, and immediately forwards it to the provincial superior or superior general. A meeting of the provincial or general council is held after all the envelopes have been received, and at this meeting the votes are counted, examined, and recorded. The two religious with the highest number of votes are the delegates, the next two are the substitutes. It is difficult to see why this simple method is not preferable when the only business of a provincial chapter is to elect the delegates to the general chapter. The two other matters within the competence of the provincial chapter of some congregations can be taken care of in other ways. The disciplinary and financial enactments, which must be confirmed by the general council, can be procured by the exercise of the right of representation to higher superiors, especially at the time of the provincial and general visita-tion. Nothing also forbids an individual religious from suggesting to the provincial superior or either of the two delegates the matters that he believes should be proposed to; the general chapter. 4. Local o~cials. The election of local superiors, councillors, and bursars is blessedly unknown in congregations of Sisters and Brothers. A universal statement is dangerous in such a matter and does not exclude isolated exceptions. III. Reelections and Reappointments 1. Mother General. The legislation of the Code on the duration of office ot: higher superiors is found in canon 505 : "The higher supe-riors shall be temporary, unless the constitutions determine other-wise." Higher superiors in institutes of women are the mother gen-eral, mother provincial, and the superiors of independent monasteries. The Code does not abrogate a prescription of the constitutions in existence before the Codd which ordains~hat the office of the mother general is to be for life. One or two congregations of Sisters have perpetual mothers general. Outside of the preceding case the Code commands that the office of mother general be temporary, but it does not determine the duration of the temlSorary term nor does it forbid the continued and immediate reeiection o'f the same mother general. These principles of the Code a~e very severely limited both by the directives and the practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in approving constitutions. It is undeniable that the Sacred Congre-gation is opposed to the continued immediate reelection of the same mother general. The almost universa'l modern practice of the Holy See is to give the mother general a term of six years but to permit an 193 JOSEPH F~ GALLEN immediate reelection only for a second term. A few pontifical con-gregations prescribF a term of twelve years but do not permit imme-diate reelection. The Sacred Congregation manifested in a letter of March 9, 1920, that it is opposed to a reelection of a mother general c~ntrary to such limitations prescribed in constitutions of pontifical congregations and that it is also averse to granting a dispensation. All congregations of Brothers and diocesan congregations of Sisters whose constitutions prescribe the same term of office and contain the same limitations should follow this letter as a directive norm, since it manifests the mind of the Holy See. Some diocesan congregations assign a term of only three years to the mother general. This does not seem to be an efficient norm, at least in large congregations. It takes a mother general a year or more to acqu.ire full mastery of her extensive and detailed office. tions and the distractions of tion. A mother general who gibility. Some constitutions two six-year terms only when The three-year term also makes elec-elections too frequent in a congrega-has been out of office recovers her eli-ordain that she is again eligible after she has been out of office for six years. The matter of the reelection of the mother general has been taken care .of by the Holy See, and the mind of the Holy See at present is that the mother general should have a term of six years but she may be reelected immediately only for a second term. 2. The General Councillors. Ordinarily a congregation of Sis-ters has four general councillors. The first councillor elected is the mother assistant and vicar general. There is nothing in the Code of Canon Law concerning the duration of office or the repeated reelec-tion of the same general councillors. In the practice of the Holy See ¯ their term of office is the same as that of the mother general, but in this same practice it is almost universal that they may be reelected indefinitely. One consequence of this inde.finite elegibility is that in some in-stances and for a long period of time the mother general and the mother assistant have merely rotated in these two offices. Undoubt-edly the reason for this in many cases is that the two were the most competent religious in the congregation for these offices. It is diffi-cult to adcept this as a universal explanation of the fact. Rather fre-quently the impression can be gained that the capitulars did not carefully and thoroughly[ study the possible qualifications of other members of the congregation, and thus chose the effortless path of voting for those whose names were extrinsically prominent. To aid 194 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS such a study by the capitulars many constitutions prescribe that a list of all religious eligible as general officials is to be posted in a place accessible to the capitulars. This is done in many very large con-gregations. The two in question can be the most competent religious for the office, but we do not have to fall back on conjecture or imagina-tion to see a very talented, competent, and energetic mother general who would-not fit comfortably into the subordinate position of mother assistant. We can readily find a somewhat subdued person-ality who would be a success as mother assistant but who would not necessarily possess the vigor and firmness of will that all supe-riors general must at times exercise. A prolonged period of general government by the same two religious can also deprive a congrega-tion of the quickening influence of new ideas, a new approach, and a new enthusiasm that it may need. The difficulty in this matter could be solved by a more thoughtful, prayerful, and, perhaps, dis-interested choice by the capitulars of the religious most competent for the office. A law to preclude the rotation should be resorted to only if necessary, as can happen in a congregation in which the rota-tion has become ingrained to the detriment of the institute~ Some pontifical and diocesan congregations have enacted laws in this matter by directly forbidding that a retiring mother general be immediately elected mother assistant, and one congregation forbids even postula-tion in this case. The election of a retiring mother genera! as one of the other three general councillors can also create a problem. It is not difficult to imagine that the presence of her predecessor on the council would prevent a mother general from initiating or proposing to her council. a course of action at variance with that of her predecessor. Thus one congregation forbids a mother general to be elected general councillor before a lapse of six years. The continued immediate relection of the same four general councillors is justifiable and commendable when they are the reli-gious most highly qualified for these offices. However, the. repetition here also can be due rather to thoughtlessness than to a studied and prayerful choice. The study of tbe qualification~ for any elective office should go deeper than mere externals. General competence and not mere personality is the rational basis of selection. _An attractive personality is not always.the sign of a competent person. A careful study will also exclude a choice based on first impressions. The price 195 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Re~iew /:or Religious we pay for actions based 6n first impressions is usually delayed, but it is often exorbitant. It is a fact of experience that many people never free their judgment of the influence of externals and first im-pressions. Several congregations bare believed it necessary to place limitations on the repeated immediate reelection of the same four general councillors and thus include the mother assistant. These limitations take various forms: a)an immediate reelection for a second term only: b) reelection for a third term only after the lapse of six years out of office: c) at least at every ordinary general chap-ter two new councillors must be elected; d) a second immediate term only if they receive two-thirds of the votes, but not for a third term before the lapse of six years out of offce. These limitations are practically always applied also to the secretary and bursar general. Since these two officials as such have no part in governme~nt, it is most difficult to see any reason for limiting their tenure of office. 3. The Mother Prooincial. The law of the Code on the dura-tion of the offce of the mother provincial is the-same as that given above for the mother general. As far as is commonly known there are no perpetual provincials. The ordinary practice of the Holy See assigns a three-year term to the provincial and permits reappoint-ment or reelection for an immediate second and, in some instances, even for an immediate third term in the same province. Thus the Holy See has settled any question concerning the repeated reappoint-merit or reelection of the mother provincial. 4. The Provincial Councillors. The provincial councillors are ordinarily either two or four. The Code of Canon Law does not legislate on the term of office of the provincial councillors, and the practice of the Holy See permits their indefinite reappointment or re-election. However, we have here also the possibility of the same diffculties in the mere interchange of the offices of provincial and assistant provincial, in the presence of the former provincial on the provincial council, and in the protracted tenure of office by the same councillors. 5. Local Superiors. Canon. 505 legislates on the duration of office of minor local superiors. The adjective, "minor," is Used to distinguish local superiors from the superiors of independent monas-teries, who are higher superiors according to the Code, for example, the superior of a Visitandine monastery. The Code forbids a minor local superior to be designated for a term of more than three years. At the expiration of this time she may be designated, if the consti- 196 July, 1951 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS tutions permit, for a second, but not for an immedifite third term in the same house. In brief, the Code permits a local superior only two successive three-year terms in the same house. No furthe~ limitations are added in the general practice of the Holy.See in approving con-stinttions. If the Sister is local superior and also holds an office such as presi-dent of a college or supervisor of a hospital, she must be taken out of the post of local superior at the end of the second term. The six-year tenure can certainly create a difficulty in such a situation. The Code applies the law of canon 505 equally to active and contem-plative institutes. It is therefore reasonable to assert that the Code favors this temporary tenure primarily, if not exclusively, as regards the government of subjects in their religious life. The Code does not deny the principle that greater permanency in the direction of some. external works of religious institutes is desirable. The automatic six-year change of presidents of colleges and supervisors of hospitals can cause wonderment and lessened efficiency. It will not be easy for any institute and very difficult for a great number to find many able presidents and supervisors. The law permits only two remedies. A petition may be made to the Holy See to prolong the tenure as local superior. The difficulty of this solution is the prolongation of the six-year tenure in the government of the religious life of the com-munity, but experience seems to confirm the wisdom of the six-year tenure in this respect. The other solution is to separate the two offices and to have a superior of the community, who alone is bound by the six-year tenure, and a president or supervisor. The usual objection against this solution is that it creates a dualism of authority. The objection may really be founded on the fact that the system is some-thing new, but we cannot hold that change is of its nature evil and that the only good is the good old way. The greater extent and complexity in modern times of some external activity of an institute may demand a departure from the former method of direction. It is certainly nothing unusual in secular.life and in business for a .person to be subject to two authorities. Docility on the part of subjects and a reasonable working Out of the distinction of the two fields of authority by the superior and the president or supervisor can bring success to this system. A serious reason may exist for retaining a particular local supe-rior in office beyond the six-year tenure, for example, the completion of a buildi'ng whose erection was begun under this superior. The 197 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review/or Religious Holy See will grant the dispensation for a serious reason. It is not in accord with at least the spirit and purpose of the law to make the asking for dispensations a general practice in the congregation. The constitutions of a few congregations emphasize this doctrine by pre-scribing: "Without a real necessity the mother general shall not" ask for a dispensation from a law so salutary for the religious them-selves and for the whole congregation." The limitation of the Code affects the reappointment of a local superior only in the same house. The Code permits indefinite reap-pointment to other houses, and constitutions approved by the Holy See rarely place any limitation on such reappointment. Subjects, however, have been known to grumble at the principle: "Once a superior, always a superior." It is also true that the volume of a grumble quite frequently exceeds that of the idea producing it. Higher superiors and their councils are obliged to secrecy, but evi-dently their justification for the repeated reappointment of the same religious is the dearth of others qualified for the office. This justi-fication must frequently be admitted. However, it is not true in a11 cases of protracted reappointment. We can at times suspect that general and provincial councils have not been at all thorough or per-severing in compiling a list of those qualified for government. Reap-pointment should also not be allowed to become so constant that the reappointment of every superior is expected and its absence is con-sidered a blot on her reputation. On the other hand, religious should remove even from the field of the sub-conscious the principle that a delayed or excluded superiorship bears the same stigma as a delayed or excluded profession, that every priest must have his parish and every Sister her house, that the one source of peace of soul of mature religious life is to be or to have been a superior, and that never to have been a superior is never to have been approved. These are in-sidious thoughts. They can and, perhaps, do cause great loss of peace of soul. It is a very evident but in no way dishonorable fact that all religious are not qualified for government. Few of us are in danger of psychic disorders because we cannot teach Hebrew, but it is most doubtful that the chair of Hebrew exacts the price of pa-tience, humility, charity, self-sacrifice, misunderstanding, and com-pletely unwarranted criticism that must be paid by the one who has the first chair in chapel "and refectory. General and provincial councils should not only prayerfully and perseveringly search for those best/qualified, but in this matter we 198 ! July, 1951 ELECTIONS AND APPOINTMENTS believe it is a prudent and efficient principle that they should gen-erally incline to a new appointment rather than an immediate reap-pointment to another house of a. religious who has completed a six-year tenure as a local superior. A few congregations have legislated in their constitutions on the reappointment of local superiors to other houses. One form of such legislation is: "After bearing the burden and responsibility of supe-rior for six years, it is necessary (essential, very helpful) that the Sister enjoy for at least three (six, one) years the liberty of subjects and the merit of obedience and submission." It can be doubted that a six-year interval is either necessary or expedient. An interval of from one to three years would be sufficient. A second form of the same legislation is: "A third (and fourth) immediate term may be permitted in another house, but at the expiration of three (four) consecutive and full terms of office, a Sister cannot again be appointed local superior before the lapse of at least a.year (three years)." This law inclines against a third or fourth term, since it merely permits such a term. The limitation of this law of four terms with an interval thereafter of at least a year is a generally practical and pru-dent norm. It could well be followed by all congregations as a direc-tive norm. 6. Local Councillors. The Code of Canon Law does not legis- /ate on the tenure of office of local councillors, and the practice of the Holy See permits their indefinite reappointment. In congregations the influence of local councillors is not very great and thus a pro-tracted tenure of office by the same religious is not apt to cause any serious difficulty. However, a change could at times be helpful to give new life to the house, to avoid the monotony of the same old things in the same old way, to soften rigor, to broaden under-standing, to add stability, and even to quicken to activity a govern-ment that has confounded patience with passivity and tolerance with lack of courage. Conclusion The moral of our story has been frequently expressed above. Careful study, sincere prayer, and absolute purity of intenti6n will assure worthy elections and appointments. This extends to the in-dividual religious, who can more readily transgress these norms in the election of the delegates. The legislation that has been enacted in several congregations to secure better elections and appointments manifests that at least these congregations thought there had been 199 "ANSELM LACOMARA Reoieu~ [or Religiou~ a neglect of these norms. Law is a necessity and is born of an abuse. Law also can never be an adequate substitute for human knowledge andintegrity of will. Some things are highly capable of arousing unworthy emotions, and one of these is elections. The best advice to any elector whether of a delegate or of the superior general is first pray, then study, examine the purity of your intention before God, and then vote. Growt:h in Grace Through t:he ,l::ucharls : Anselm Lacomara, C.P. THE life of grace may be compared to a steep hill which has a great treasure await.ing the climber when he reaches the top. Like every such climb, progress in grace meets difficult portions which are apt to slow us down and give us a.little hardship before we finally continue up. At times like this we need a helping hand and an inward drive to propel us forward. In His divine foresight and infinite mercy, Christ has provided us with a help which enables us to take care of every difficulty and overcome every obstaclee. The divine help is none other than Him-self in the Holy Eucharist. He is the help and the helper. We are never alone in walking the road that leads to the heights. Christ's strength and companionship are ours whenever we need them. His company is ever at our disposal when we need a helping hand over the rough spots, ggception of the Blessed Sacrament brings divine help into our lives. Fervent reception of Holy Communion increases our spiritual vitality, for it unites us to the source of all grace. The fruits of this union with Christ are mutual charity and peace. The Holy Eucharist enables us to keep faith with Christ, and with Christ's brothers and sisters through charity. Christ's grace flows through us as the life of the vine flows through the branches out to the tiniest leaf. That it should be thus is clear from the cir- 20O GROWTH THROUGH THE EUCHARIST cumstances in which Christ instituted the Blessed Sacrament and from His prayer on the first Holy T-hursday. Revelation of Love As Christ reclined with the Apostles for His final Passover Feast, the time of prophetic fulfillment had arrived. The sacre~t Jewish ritual was about to be celebrated by its Author and Object. Jesus was at the head of the table. Nearby was John who would not for-get this holy night as long as he lived. Exactly as the Law prescribed, the Master passed the ritual cup, partook of the lamb, consumed the bitter herbs, chanted the Psalms. Suddenly an unexpected hush fell on the group. The Master paused, looked upon His own and silently took bread into His holy and venerable hands. His voice alone broke the reverent silence: "This is my body which is being given for you;',do this in remem-brance of me." In awe and profound humil!ty the rough men received their First Holy Communion. The Master then took the cup, saying: "This is the cup of the New Covenant in my Blood, which shall be shed for you." The Apostles, each with deep emo-tion, partook of Christ's Precious Blood. While He was yet in them by His sacramental presence, Christ revealed the infinite riches of love stored in His Sacred Heart. Hear His words: "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled or be afraid . . . I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-dresser. Every branch in me that bears no fruit he will take away; and every branch that bears fruit he will cleanse that it may bear more fruit. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself unless it remain on the vine, so neither can you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in me and I in him, he bears much fruit, for without me you can do nothing. If you abide in me, 'and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wil1,'and it shall be done to you . . . As the Father has loved me, I also have loved you. Abide in my love . . . This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. These things I command you, that you may love one another." Thus did Christ reveal Himself as our friend and our food, the help and the helper in the life of grace. He has willed to remain with us all days so that we are never alone, so that we never have to 201 ANSELM LACOMARA Review for Religious face life and its burdens by ourselves. He. is with us always to bear us up and to give us strength. The Bread of Life St. Augustine, in one of his sermons on the Passion, put these words in0Christ's mouth: "I am the food of the strong. Have faith and eat me. But thou wilt not change me into thyself; it is thou who wilt be changed into me." And St. Thomas develops the same thought in his commentary on Lombard: "The matter of the Eucharist is a food; the proper effect, then, must be analogous to that of food. He who assimilates corporal food transforms it into him-self; this change repairs the losses of the organism and gives it the necessary increase. But the Eucharistic food, .instead of being trans-formed into the one who takes it, transforms him into itself. It follows that the proper effect of the Sacrament is to transform us so much into Christ that we may say, 'I live, now, not I, but Christ liveth in me.' " Christ is truly the food of the soul in the Blessed Sacrament. Holy Communion is the "Sacred Banquet in which Christ is re-ceived." The source of all life and grace comes to share that same life and grace. In His sermon promising the bread of heaven, Christ said: "I am the bread of life. He that comes to me shall not hunger. I am the living bread which came down frdm heaven . the bread which I shall give is my flesh for the life of the world . . . Unless you eat of the flesh of the son of man and drink his blood, you shall not have life in you . . . My flesh is real food, and my blood is real drink. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood, abides in me and I in him." It is evident that Our Blessed Lord never intended that the Holy Eucharist to be a reward for goodness of life. It is a food without which we cannot live any kind of a spiritual life. Christ certainly indicated His mind on the matter when He stated with so much force: "Unless you eat of the flesh of the son of man and drink his blood you shall not have life in you." ;Faken simply as spoken, this can mean only one thing: just as physical life cannot continue with-out physical food, so also our spiritual life is unable to continue without the spiritual food of Christ's Sacred Body and Blood. Christ wants us to receive Him frequently and fervently that the life of grace within us may flourish and come to full flower. He has left Himself as the food of our souls'that we may abide in Him, and He in us, and all in the Father. Christ comes to us with His divin- 202 dul~,1951 GROWTH THROUGH THE EUCHARIST ity, His merits, and His infinite riches that He may become for the soul its light and its way, it wisdom and its truth, its justice and its strength. In short, He. who is life itself, comes to fill the soul with divine life that we may see things as He sees them and do things as He wants them done. Union with One Another in Christ The effect of sacramental union will make itself felt not only in the life of the individual religious but in the life of the whole reli-gious family. Christ said: "Love one another as I have loved you." When He gave that command, He and His own were united in a bond of love as they had never been united before. They had come together to worship the same God according to the same ritual. They had partaken of the same food, broken the same bread. Above all, they were united to Christ and to one another in Him because all had shared in Christ's Body and Blood. The supernatural vitality of the Eucharist made their souls throb (vith God's own life shared through divine grace. He in them and they in Him and all in the Father--a unity ineffable. This unity among the Apostles and the Master accomplished in the reception of Communion is a sign of the wondrous unity which exists in Christ's Mystical Body. St. Paul (I. Cot., 10:17) wrote: "XVe, being one, all partake of the same bread." Christ is still in the place of honor. The Pope and bishops are in their allotted place; priests, religious, and laity in theirs. All receive the same Lord; all are nourished by the same divine food. The life of Christ flows in a constant stream to all His members. He is still the vine, we the branches. The words of the Last Discourse still hold true: "the glory that Thou hast given Me, I have given to them that they may be one; I in them and Thou in Me; that they may be perfected in unity." ' Solidarity in Christ! This idea so permeated the early Chris-tians that their charity became their mark of identification. "Behold these Christians: how they love one another." They loved one another in Christ. They shared the same bread of life in conscious imitation of the scene which took place in the Cenacle. Their breaking of bread was a liturgical and ritualistic banquet at wlqich each received Communion. They were acutely conscious that the Master had promised peace and love to all who did in like manner. The secret of the intense love, that led them to sell what they had and give to the poor, was their mutua! love for Christ, their mutual 203 ANSELM LACOMARA life and sanctification in Him. Their reception of Communion was the strong bond which held them to one another in charity. Our first brethren knew that Communion was a vivid continuation of the Last Supper. Holy Communion is also our way of being ~nited with Christ as the Apostles and early Christians were. We partake of the same chalice, break the same bread. This cannot fail to produce the effect desired by Our Lord, our growth in grace and charity. When Jesus comes to us in Holy Communion, let us allow Him to work in us so that we may be truly one with Him. If we are one with Him, we will surely be one with our fellow religious,, for our hearts will be attuned to His words: "Love one another as I have loved you." If we are one with Him, His influence will make itself felt in our daily lives. The curt word will die in its utterance. The sharp reply will be softened on our lips. Our judgments will be kind. We will listen to and respect the opinions of others. Our outlook will be that of Christ, who "loving His own, loved them to the end." Christ wants ~to work wonders in our souls. He loves us more than words can say. His Body and Blood are given to us daily. He desires us to join Him in this Sacred Banquet that His spirit and His peace may fill our souls. If we receive Him in the same spirit of fer-vent generosity with which He comes to us, His priestly prayer, "Holy Father, keep in thy name those whom thou hast given me, that they may be one, even as we are," will have its glorious fulfill-ment in our souls. HERESY OF RACE One can scarcely mention any of the various ways in which Negroes are unjustly treated when he is confronted with the old objections: the-value-of-property-goes- . down-when-the-Negro-moves-in : the-parish-runs-down-if-Negroes-are-not-kept-out ; would-you-want-your-sister-to-marry-a-Negro? : the-black-baby-in-the-seventh-gen-eration; white-students-would-leave-the-school-if-Negroes-were-accepted; hospitals-would- go-bankrupt-if-Negro-patients-were-admitted ; white-patrons-would-boycott-the- hotels-if-Negroes-were-served; and so forth. "All these woulds and ifs," writes Sister Mary Ellen O'Hanlon, O.P., in The Heresy of Race, "and many more, so repeatedly rolled off loose tongues, are false conjectures for which no real or honeit experiences have ever given any proof/' The Heresy of Race. which deals with these old objections and other points regarding the true Christian attitude towards race relations, can be obtained from: Rosary College Book Store, Rosary College, River Forest, Illinois. Single copies, 50 cents. Reduced rates for quantity orders. 204 Ins :rucfion on Sponsa Christi [EDITORS' NOTE: We present here the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious on the practical application of the Apostolic Constitution, Sponsa Christi. This document was given at Rome under date of November 23, 1950, and pub-lished in Acta Apostolicae Seclis, under date of 3anuary 10, 1951, pp. 37-44.] I. Among the remarkable documents by which our Holy Father, Plus XII, by Divine Providence, Pope, has willed to adorn and crown the Holy Year as with so many precious jewels, assuredly not the least is the Apostolic Constitution, $loor~sa Christi, which deals with the renewal and advancement within God's Church of the holy and venerable institution of nuns. This Sacred Congregation; which as its appointed task, promptly and faithfully assists th~ Holy Father in all things pertaining to the state of perfection, has reverently and joyfully received from him the commission of putting into execu-tion this Constitution, truly remarkable from so. many points of view, and of making its application assured and ea.sy. II. To fulfill this honorable duty, the Sacred Congregation has assembled in this Intruction some practical norms for those points which offer greater difficulty. III. Now, the points in the Apostolic Constitution which offer difficulty and hence require special clarification are:. (I) those which refer to the major or minor cloister of nuns; (2) those which deal with the establishment of federations and the limitation of auton-omy; (3) finally those which have to do with obtaining and co-ordinating productive labor for the monasteries. I. MAJOR AND MINOR CLOISTER FOR NUNS IV. The Apostolic Constitution, Sponsa ~hristi (art. IV), pre-scribes a special cloister for monasteries of all nuns which differs from the episcopal cloister of congregations (c. 604), and which, according to the general ngrm of the law, is papal, as is the cloister of orders of men (c. 597, § 1). In fact, regarding a number of prescriptions dealing with both the entrance of externs into the limits of the cloister and the going out of the nuns from the same, the regu-lations are stricter than those which control the papal cloister of men. V. Hereafter there will be two types of papal cloister for nuns: the one major, which is reserved for monasteries in which solemn vows are taken and a purely contemplative life is led, even though the number of the nuns may have decreased; the other mirror, which 205 INSTRUCTION Reoieu3 for Religious as a rule, is applied to monasteries in which a life is led which is not exclusively contemi~lative, or the nuns take simple vows only. A. Major Papal Cloister VI. Major papa/ cloister is that which is described in the Code (cc. 600, 602) and accurately defined by the Sacred Congregation in its Instruction, Nuper edito, approved by the late Pop~ Pius XI on February 6, 1924. This cloister is fully confirmed in the Constitu-tion, Sponsa Christi, safeguarding the following declarations which the Constitution empowers the Sacred Congregation to make (art. IV, § 2, 1°) 'so that its observance may be prudently adapted to the needs of the times and to local circumstances. VII. Nuns bound by major papal cloister, after their profession, by reason of the profession itself and by the prescription of ecclesi-astical law, contract a grave obligation: 1° of remaining always within the precincts of the monastery which have been put within the definite limits of the cloister, so that they may not leave the cloister ~ven for a moment under any pretext or condition without a special indult of the Holy See, except in those cases only which are provided for in the canons and instructions of the Holy See, or which are envisioned in the constitutions or statutes approved by the Holy See itself. 2° of not admitting to the parts of the monastery subject to the law of cloister any. person whatsoever no matter of what class, con-dition, sex, or age, even for a moment, without a special indult of the Holy See. Certain exceptions, however, of persons and cases are expressly made in the canons and in instructions of the Holy" See, as well as in the constitutions or statutes approved by it. VIII. 1° Indults and dispensations to leave the major cloister after profession (VII, 1°) or to enter it or to admit others (VII, 2°) are reserved exclusively to the Holy See, and can be granted by it alone or in its name and by its delegation. 2° Reasons for obtaining dispensations should be proportionately grave, due consideration being given to the circumstances of cases, times, and places, keeping in mind the practice and style of the Roman Curia. IX. 1° The faculty to dispense may be given ab bomine, either for a definite period of time for all cases occurring during it, or for a certain number of cases. There is nothing; however, to hinder the granting of certain permissions habitually in particular law having 206 duly, 1951 SPONSA CHRISTI legitimate approval, for instance, in the constitutions, in the statutes of federations, and in similar documents.' 2° Whether granted ab homine or by general or particular law, indults and dispensations must determine, according to the instruc-tions of the Holy See affd the practice and style of the Roman Curia. the conditions and precautions .to which the dispensation is subject. X. The penalties against those who violate the laws of cloister remain as stated in toe Code (c. 2342, nn. 1, 3). B. Minor Papal Cloister ~ XI. Minor papal cloister: 1° retains intact the fundamental rules of the cloister of nuns, inasmuch as it differs greatly from the cloister of congregations (c. 604) as well as from that of orders of men (cc. 598-599) ; 2° must safeguard and facilitate for all the observance and care of solemn chastity; 3° it must protect and efficaciously rosier the contemplative life of the monastery; 4° The employments which the Church hag designedly entrusted to these monasteries must be so harmonized with the contemplative life within the confines of the minor papal enclosure that the latter may by all means be preserved while these works are properly and advantageously performed. 5° In monasteries which engage in approyed works, the pre-scription of canon 599, § 1 for the cloister of or'ders of men, which is likewise applied by canon 604, § 2 to the cloister of congregations, is to l~e strictly and faithfully observed, in such a way that a clear and complete separation be ever maintained between buildings or sec-tions thereof set apart for the living quarters of the nuns and for the exercises of the monastic life, and those parts made over to necessary works. XII: Minor papal cloister includes: 1° a grave prohibition against admitting into the parts of the house set aside for the community of nuni and subject to the law of cloister (c. 597) any persons whatsoever who are not members of the community, regardless of class, condition, sex, or age, according to canon 600; 2° another grave prohibition forbidding the nuns after profes-sion to leave the precincts of the monastery, in the same way as nuns subject to major cloister (n. VII-IX). XIII. 1 ° The passage of the nuns from the parts reserved to the 207 INSTRUCTION Revieu~ for Religious community to the other places within the precincts of the monast~ery destined for the works of the apostolate is allowed for this purpose alone, with the permission of the superior, and under proper safe-guards, to those who, according to the norms of the constitutions and the prescriptions of the Holy See, are destined for the exercise, of the apostolate in any way. 2° If by reason of the apostolate, dispensations from the pre-scriptions of n. XII, 2° become necessary, they may be given only to nuns and other religious who are lawfully assigned to the employ-ments, under grave obligation in conscience for superioresses, for or-dinaries, and for superiors regular, to whom the custody of the cloister is entrusted (c. 603). XIV. Admittance of externs to the parts of the monastery de-voted to employments of whatever kind is governed by these norms: 1 o Habitual admittance is allowed to, pupils, boys or girls, ot to other persons in whose favor ministries are performed, and to such women only with whom necessary contact is demanded by reason and on the occasion of such ministries. ' 2° The local ordinary should, by a general or habitual declara-tion, define as such those exceptions which must be made of necessity, for instance, those,ordinarily required by the civil law for the pur-pose of inspections, examinations, or for other reasons. 3° Other exceptions, should such at times seem truly necessary in individual cases, are reserved to the express grant of the ordinary, who is in conscience bound to impose prude.nt precautions. XV. 1° Nuns who unlawfully leave the precincts of the mon-astery fpso facto incur excommunication reserved simply to the Holy See according to canon 2342, 3°, or, by express grant reserved to the local ordinary. 2° Nuns who illicitly leave the parts of the monastery reserved to the community and go to other places within the precincts of the monastery, are to be punished by the superior or by the local ordi-nary, according to the gravity of their fault. 3° Those who illicitl.y enter the parts of the monastery reserved to the community and those who bring them in or allow them to enter, incur excommunication reserved simply to the Holy See. 4° Those who illegitimately enter the parts of the monastery not reserved to the community, as well as those who bring them in or permit fhem to enter, are to be severely punished according to the gravity of their fault by the ordinary of the place in which the mon-astery is located. 208 duly, 1951 SPONSA (~HRISTI XVI. Dispensations from minor papal cloister, except those ad-mitted by law, are, as a rule, reser~red to the Holy See. Faculties more or less broad, as circumstances seem to require, can be granted to ordinaries either ab homine or in the constitutions and statutes. II. FEDERATIONS OF MONASTERIES OF NUNS XVIL Federations of monasteries of nuns, according to the norm of the Constitution, Sponsa Christj" (art. VII, § 2, 2°), are earnestly recomrriended, both to avoid the harmful effects which both more grievously and more readily befall entirely independent monasteries, and which by union can to a great extent be avoided more effectively, as well as to foster both their spiritual and temporal interests. Although, as a rule, federations of monasteries are not imposed (art. VIII, § 2, 2°), nevertheless, the reasons which would recom-mend them in general, could, in particular cases be so strong that, everything considered, they would be deemed necessary by the Sacred Congregation. ~' : XVIII. Federations of mona~'teries are holt to be impeded by the fact that the individual monasteries which intend to form them are subject to superiors regular. Provision will have to be made for this common subjection in the Statutes of the Federati(~n. XIX. When, because of the intention of the .fou~de~ or for any other reason that may occur, there already exists some.kind of begin-ning of a union or federation of monasteries of the same order or institute, anything already done or outlined must be taken into ac-count in the development of the federation itself. XX. A federation of monasteries in no way directly affects the relation, already in existence according to the common or to the par.- ticular law, of the individual monasteries to the local ordinaries or to the superiors regular. Hence, unless an.express and lawful deroga-tion is made to this rule, the powers of ordinaries and superiors is neither increased nor diminished nor changed in any way. XXI. The statutes of a federation may grant certain rights over the federation to ordinaries and to superiors which as a rule do not beloiag to them, leaving intact generally the right over each individual monastery as such. xxII. The general and principal purposes and advantages of unions and federations are the following: 1° the legally recognized facuIty and the canonically sanctioned duty of a mutual fraternal assistance, both in the conservation, de- 209 INSTRUCTION Reoieu~ [or Religious lense, and increase of regular observance, and of domestic economy, as well as in all other th~ngs; 2° the establishment of novitiates common to all or to a group of monasteries for cases in which, either because of a lack of person-nel necessary for the directive offices, or because of other circum-stances moral, economic, local, and the like, a solid and practical spir-itual, disciplinary, technical, and cultural training cannot be given in the individual monasteries; 3° the faculty and the moral obligation, defined by certain norms and accepted by federated monasteries, of asking for and of mutually interchanging nuns who may be necessary for government and training; 4° the possibility of and freedom for a mutual temporary ex-change or ceding of subjects, and also of a permanent assignment, because of health or other moral or material need. XXIII. The characteristic notes of federations which are to be considered essential when taken together are enumerated as follows: 1 o From the source from which they spring and [rom the author-ity from which as such they d.epend and which governs them directly, federations of nuns are of pont[lical right according to the Code (c. 488, 3°). Hence not only their establishment, but also the approval of their statutes, and the enrollment of monasteries in, or their separation from, a federation, belongs to the Holy See exclusively. Provided all the rights over individual monasteries granted by the Code to ordinaries are safeguarded, federations are subject to the Holy See in all those matters in which pontifical institutes of women are directly subject to it, unless a lawful exception has been expressly provided for. The Holy See may commit certain items of its pre-rogatives, either habitually or in single instances, to its immediate assistants or delegates for federations. 2° B~t reason of territory or of extension, federations of monas-teries are to be established preferably along regional lines, for easier government, unless the small number of monasteries or other just or proportionate causes demand otherwise. 3° By reason of the moral persons which constitute them, inas-much as they are collegiate persons (c. i00, § 2), federations are composed of monasteries of the same order and of the same internal observance, though they need not necessarily depend on the same local ordinary or superior regular, nor have the same kind of vows or form of cloister. 210 dulq, 1951 SPONSA CHRISTI 4° Confederations of regional federations can be allowed if need, or great advantage, or the traditions of the order recommend them. 5° From the standpoint ~f the independence of the monasteries, the bond which holds the federated monasteries together should be such that it does not interfere with their autonomy, at least in essen-tials (c. 488, 2°, 8°). Although derogations from autonomy are not to be presumed, they can be granted with the previous consent of each monastery, provided that grave reasons seem to recommend or demand them. XXIV. All ~ederations of monasteries of nuns must have their own statutes subject to the approval of the Holy See before they can be established. The statutes must accurately determine the following: l° the aims which each federation proposes to itself; 2° the manner in which the government of the federation is to be regulated, either with regard to constitutive elements, as for ex-ample, president, visitators, council, and the like; or as to the manner of appointment to these offices; or, finally, the power of this govern-ment and the manner of conducting it; 3° the means which the federation should use that it may be able to carry out its aims pleasantly and vigorousl~; 4° the conditions and means to be used in putting into execu-tion the prescriptions regarding the mutual interchange of persons laid down in art. VII, § 3, 2° of the Constitution, Sponsa Christi: 5° the juridical standing of nuns transferred to another mon-astery, whether in the monastery from which the transfer takes place, or in that to which it is made; 6° The economic help (o be given by each monastery for the common enterprises of the entire federation; 7° The administration of the common novitiate or of other works common to the federation, if there be such. XXV. 1° In order that the Holy See may be able to exercise a direct and efficacious vigilance and authority over federations, each federation can be given a religious assistant, as need or usefulness may suggest. 2° The religious assistant will be appointed by the Sacred Con-gregation according to the statutes, after all interested parties have been heard. 3° In each case his duties will be accurately defined in the decree of appointment. The principal ones are as follows: to take care that the genuine spirit of a profoundly contemplative life as well as the 211 INSTRUCTION spirit proper to the order and institute be securely preserved and in-creased; likewise, to see that a prudent and exact government be established and preserved in 'the federation; to have regard for the solid religious training of the novices and of the religious themselves; to help the council in temporal matters of greater moment. 4° The Holy See will delegate or commit to the assistant such powers as may seem opportune in individual cases. III. MONASTIC LABOR XXVI. 1° Since, by the disposition of Divir~e Providence, the temporal necessities of life are at times so pressing that nuns seem morally compelled to seek and accept labors beyond their accustomed ones, and even perhaps to extend the time given to labor, all should as true religious submit themselves promptly and humbly to the dis-positions of Divine Providence, as the Christian faithful do in like circumstances. 2° They should do this, however, not anxiously or capriciously or arbitrarily, but prudently as far as may seem truly necessary or .suitable, seeking with simple hearts a balance between their under-standing of fidelity to the letter and to tradition, and a filial subjec-tion to the permissive and positive dispositions of Divine Providence. 3° Keeping these directives in mind, let them submit to ecclesias-tical or to religious superiors, as the case may require, whatever ar-rangements seem advisable. XXVII. Ec~iesiastical and religious superiors must: 1° by all means seek and obtain profitable labor for the nuns who need it, and, should the case require it, also employ committees of pious men or women, and, with due caution and prudence, even secular agencies established for such purposes; 2° maintain a careful supervision of the quality and orderly ar-rangement of the work, and require a just price for it; 3° to superintend diligently the coordination of the activities and the labor of individual monasteries so that they may help, sup-ply, and complement one another, and see to it that every vestige of competition is entirely avoided. PLEASE NOTE CAREFULLY The subscription price of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~s now: $3.00 per year for Domestic and Canadian subscriptions; $3.35 per year for all foreign subscrip-tions. For further details please see inside back cover. 212 uesUons and Answers In the March issue of the Review Sister Digna wrote about men÷al and other.tests for candidates aspiring to the religious life. Would you kindly 9ire "Fhe name and address of the publishers of these tests? Sister Digna prepared the detailed description of the following tests which she suggests as helps to'Ocarry out the program outlined in her article. Since we received these lists some tiptoe ago, a number of the prices may have been changed. ~; 1. American Council on Education Psychological Examination for ttigh School Students. This is a time-limit test. Time: 54 min- o" utes. Norms: Comprehensive norms for e~ich annual edition are pub-lished in series V of the American Council on Education Studies for. April of'the school year in which the test is current. Authors: Louis L. Thurstone and Thelma Gwinn,Thurstone, University of Chicago. Publishers: The American Council on Education, 744 ,IacksowPlace, Washington, D.C.; distributed by Science Research Associates, 1700 Prairie Avenue, Chicago, Illinois. Cost: $.07 per test, including test booklet and answer sheet. Additional answer sheets, $.02 each. Manual, scoring keys, and norms, $.25. ~ ,, 2. The Otis Self-Administering Tests of Mental.Abilit.~. These are time-limit tests, consisting of a Higher E~amination designed for grades 9-12 and for college students; and an Inter~edlate t~xamina-tion designed for grades 4-9. Norms: Age and grade norms fur-nished in the manual, as well as charts for .translating raw score to percentile rank, or to Binet Mental Age and I.Q. Author: A. S. Otis. Publisher: World Book Company, Yonkers-on-Hudson, New York. Cost: $1.25 per package of 25 tests, including manual, scoring key, and norms; specimen set, $0.35. Four alternate forms of each test are available. 3. Wechsler-Bellevue Intelligence Scale by David Wechsler. An individual examination including eleven tests for use at all ages from adolescence (age 10) up to 70 years. Five tests are verbal: Similari-ties, Comprehension, Information, Arithmetic, and Memory for Numbers. Five are nonverbal performance tests: Object Assembly (profile, Manikin, and Hand in Form I; face, horse, and auto in Form II), Block Design, Picture Completion, Picture Arrangement, and Digit-Symbol Substitution. An alternate test of Vocabulary is QUESTIONS AND .,~NSWERS Re~ieu~ for Religious provided. A feature of the test is that the IQ can be obtained from as few as eight tests without serious loss in reliability. Scores on each test are converted into star~dard scores. The total of these scores is converted into IQ equivalents by means of a table which takes into account the age of adults. The materials appeal to testees at all ages and levels of ability and are well-suited for classification of .both normal and abnormal individuals. Text, "The Measurement of Adult Intelligence," $2.60. Form I. Test Materials, including 25 Record Blanks, $14.00. The text contains the administrative man-ual for Form I, and must be ordered separately. Form II. Test Ma-terials, including 25 Record Blanks and the manual required for ad-ministering this form, $15.50. Manual alone, $2.00. Specify Form I or Form II. Record Blanks, sold only in packages of 25 and 100 copies. Packages of 25--$1.25 each. Personality Tests . 4. The Adjustment Int~entorg by Hugh M. Bell. A diagnostic tool to .aid the counselor and guidance worker in discovering the sources of personal and social maladjustment in students and adults. The separation of adjustment into four types (home, health, social, and emotional) aids in the location of specific adjustment'difficulties. Scoring requires about three minutes. Tentative norms are given for high school students, college students, and adults of both sexes. Adult form also has scoring fbr occupational adjustment. Untimed. Forms: Student and Adult. Specify form desired. Sold only in packages of 25, $1.85, and. packages of 100, $5.75. Manual and keys included. Specimen Set,'~cluding both forms, 35 cents. Regular IBM answer sheets--for use with regular booklet of questions. Same answer sheet used for both Student and Adult forms. Sold only in packages of 50, $1.10, and packages of 500, $7.75. Stencils for both hand~ and machine-scoring; Student form, $1.10 per set, Adult form, $1.30 per set--specify form de-sired. Nontimed. Author: H. M. Bell, Chico, California, State Col-lege. Publisher: Stanford University Press, Stanford University, California. Cost: $1.85 per 25; $1.75 per 100 machine-scorable answer sheets; specimen set, $0.15. 5. The Minnesota Multiphasic Personality InuentoW by Starke R. Hathaway and J. Charnley McKinley. A diagnostic test con-structed entirely on the basis of clinical criteria. At present the au-thors have made available nine scales: Hypochondriasis, Depression, Hysteria, Psychopathic Deviate, Masculinity and Feminity, Paranoia, 214 dul~,1951 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS " Psychasthenia, Schizophrenia, and Hypomania. Four other scores are ascertained: the Question score, the Lie score, the Validity score, and the K score (a suppressor variable refining the discrimination of five of the clinical variables)i Untimed. Individual Form Forms: Individual and Group. Spec.ify form desired. Individual Form ("The Card Set"). Box of 550 item cards with three sorting cards marked True, False, or Cannot Say. Sturdy wooden box. $12.50. Manual, containing description (including complete list of questions), the6ry, administration, and norms, with supplement ex-plaining how to use the K score. $1.00, when ordered separately. 75 ccfits each when ordered in lots of 10 or more for class use. Keys. Eleven transparent guides made of map cloth, one for each of the nine scales, one for the F or Validity score, and one for the K score. $7.50 including manual. Recording Sheet for recording the subject's sorting and the profile of his scores. One sheet needed for each case. Sold only in packages of 50. 1-9 packages--$2.50.each. ¯Group Form Group Form ("The t~ooklet Form"). The Group Form has been prepared for use witb~IBM answer sbegts, thus permitting either hand-scoring or machineT~coring. The,authors recommend that the Group Form be used only with person'S~°who are still in school or who have had recent contact with test materials in group form. For clinical cases or small groups, the Individual Form is considered de-sirable. Booklets for Grghp Form are printed on heavy stock and will stand repeated use. 1-24 booklets, 25 cent~;e0db; packages of 25, $5.50 each. Manual. This is the same as for the Individual Form but has a supplement. $1.00 when ordered separately. 75 cents each when ordered in lots of 10 or ran.re for class use. Key:;. Envelope contains manuaI, supp!ementary manual, and 16 hand-scoring stencils, $4.00. Similar envelope with machine-scoring stencils, $4.00. Specify which i~ desired. Answer Sheets. IBM answer sheets which can be either machine- or hand-scored. One copy needed for each testee. For each answer sheet ordered, one Pro-file and Case Summary form is. included. Answer sheets are sold onIy in packages of 50, $3.00 each, and packages of 5~)0,.$23.00 each. Extra Profile and :Case Summary forms, for duplicate reports, $1.60 per package of 50. 6, Minnesota Personality Scale by 3ohn G. Dadey and Walter 3. blanks, $:50 per 25;-scoring keys, $1.10 for one key, $.80 for 2 to 215 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS McNamara. ' Five aspects of personality are measured: Morale, Social Adjustment, Family Relations, Emotionality, Economic Conserva-tism. These are based on a factor analysis of several pers6nality tests. Each item is scored for only one scale and each scale is highly reliable. Norms are based on almost 2000 university students. The questions are in reusable booklets. The answers are marked on IBM answer'sheets which can be either hand- or machine-scored. Grades 11 through college. Time, no li,mit, about 45 min. Forms: Men and Women. Order booklets, answer sheets and scoring stencils separately. Specify form (Men's or Women's) and quantity of each. Booklets. Sold in packages of 25. 1-9 packages--S2.50 each. 10 or more packages--S2.25 ',each. Answer sheets. Sold only in packages of 50, $1.80 each, ~tnd packages of 500, $15.00 each. Same sheet is used for either Men or Women. Manual and hand-scoring stencils must be ordered separately, 50 cents. Specify form desired. Manual and IBM machine-scoring stencils, $1.25 a set. Specify form. desired. Specimen Set, either form, 60 cents. Specify form desired. Men's or Women's. 7. The Perso, nality Inuentor~ by Robert G. Bernreuter. Stanford University Press, Stanford, California. Designed to measure six as-pects of personality at~one administration: Neurotic Tendency, Self-sufficiency, Introversion-Extroversion, Dominance-Submission, So-ciability, Confidence. Norms for both men and women have been established for h.igh school, college, and adult ages. Untimed. Sold 'only in packages of 2.5, $1.85, and packages of 100, $5.75, with manual, norms and set of keys. Individual Report Sheets, sold only in packages of 25, 35 cents. Specimen Set, 35 cents. IBM answer sheets available. Sold only in packages of 50, $1.10 each, and packages of~500, $7.75 each. Machine-scoring keys, $2.60 per set; cannot be used for hand-scoring. 8. Stronfl Vocational Interest Blank, (for Men and Women) Author: E. K. Strong, Jr. Publisher: Stanford University Press, Stanford University, California. Cost: Tests, $2.10 per 25; .report 9 keys, $:72 each for 10 or more keys; machine-scorable answer sheets, $2.72 per 100. The Psychological Corporation, 522 Fifth .Avenue, Neb¢ York, N. Y. 9. Kuder Preference Record. Form A and Form BB. Publisher: Science Research Associates, 1700 Prairie Avenue, Chicago. Cost: Form BB-test booklets which can be used many times, $.48 each; answer pads, $.08 each; profile sheets, $.02 each. '216 RELIGIOUS LIFE AND SPIRIT. ByRev. Ignaz Waffero÷,O.M.I. T~rans-lated by Rev. A. S{mon, O.M.I. Pp. vff~ ~- 408. B.Herder Book Co., S~'. Lou~s, Mo. $6.00. Community exhortations and conferences are an important means to spiritual perfection. Just as by the will of Christ the trde Faith was to be preached and propagated mainly by the living w,ord, so also Christian perfection. Christ¯ Himself set the exa'mple¯ in the Ser-mon on the Mount; the apostles and first bishops taught the more perfect way by word of mouth; virgins, ascetics, andoreligious from ¯ the earliest days were instructed and encouraged to ever greater perfec-tion by exhortations; witness, fc~r example, the monks of the desert. Spiritual conferences soon became traditional ~ in the Church; they went down the centuries, from Cassian to Bernard, to Teresa, to Francis de Sales, to Faber, Marmion, and Leen. ¯ Today canon law prescribes them as a regular spiri'tual exercise for religious and semi-narians (cf. canons 509"and 1367), and the rules of almost all reli-gious communities make provision for them. H~nce, they are not something boring, to be minimized and neglec'ted, .but rather a spir-itual element, to be valued and put to good .use. Their purpose: to enlighten the mind b~'instruction and to sup-ply motives and warmth to the will, leading to virthous action. ' For this spiritual energizing the living word is far more effective than the printed page. Of-course, the. person giving the exhortation should posse.ss certain qualities: he must be a man of prayer, self-abnegation, virtuous life, and prudence: .he must have the requisite knowledge derived from study, prayer and experience; he must make careful preparation and adapt his .conference skillfully t.o his audi-ence~ Orat?ry and rhetoric are of sec6ndary importance; simplicity and sincerity are more efficacious for this work. The listener, too, must come to the conference prepar.ed; hi must have a good intention, a desire to profit spiritually from v~hat he hears; he must not be criti-cal, but humble and receptive, diligently making practical applica-tions, not to his neighbor, or tothe speaker, but to himself. Such in brief is the doctrine of the spiritual masters on the exhortation with which religious are so familiar. 3udged in the light of the above doctrine the present collection of conferences for religious stands up quite well, though 'it is by no 217 BOOK REVIEWS Reoiew for Religious means perfect. The author, Fathe~ Ignaz Watterot, O.M.I., was competent to give these cbnferences to nuns, having been for many years a successful superior and counsellor of religious. He knows the religious life, both theoretically and practically; he has put his mes-sage in a concrete way, well-suited to his hearers. Hence, it is not su_rprising to learn that the book has been often reprinted in the original and can be found in almost every German convent. It merits the enthusiastic reception given it by the reviewers when it first appeared. There are forty conferenc~es on forty different topics, averaging ten to twelve pages in length, each one neatly and logically divided by means of sub-headin'gs. The subject-matter covers the excellence and dignity of the religious state, the duties, difficulties, and means to perfection in the religious state, its weakness and defects, its joys and consolations. Almost every important point of the ordinary life of religious receives due consideration. However, there is a surprising and inexplicabl~ dmission, daily~Holy Mass. The conferences are doctrinal and psychological. Holy Scripture, both Old and New Thstament, is cited profusely. Canon law and selected instructions of the Holy See are utilized. The principal ascetical sources are the works of Augustine, Chrysostom, Bernard," Bonaventure, Thomas Aquinas, Teresa of Avila, Ignatius Loyola, Alphonsus Liguori, and above all thos.e of St. Francis de Sales and. St. Jeanne de Chantal. Among the more recent" writers we find Alban Stolz, Albert W.eiss, and Clara Fey, foundress of the Sisters of the Poor Child J~sus, whose cause, for canonization has been intro-duced. The author is also well acquainted, with feminine psychol-ogy, and his conferences abound with practical, even homely, ex-amples and illustrations. The chief drawbacks of this American edition are two. First, the book has not been brought up to date. It was first published some forty years ago. Pertinent official documents of the Holy

Issue 40.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1981. ; Volume 40 Number 6 Nov./Dec., 198;I REvtEw I:OR REto~(;~OUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW Rt.'t.lcaous is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1981 by REvtEw ~:OR REI.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.: $9.00 a year; $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. I:or subscription orders or change of address, wrile: REVIEW I-'OR REt.~(;~OUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55802. 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 Nov./Dec., 1981 Vo/ume 40 Number 6 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence wilh the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR Rt:t.tG~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd,; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprinls should be ordered from RI-:VIEW I-'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles n;~t published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Development of a Constitution Mary Kevin Hollow, S.C.L. Sister Mary Kevin, Community Director of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, details here the process of their community's work of revision of their Constitution, which was submitted to the Sacred Congregation for Religious in May, 1981. Sister resides in the motherhouse: Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth; Leavenworth; KS 66048. The Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, a pontifical institute, originated in the Diocese of Nashville in 1851. The religious community was formed by a group of Sisters Of Charity of Nazareth at the request of Bishop Richard Pius Miles. In God's Providence, many of these same sisters, with the encourage-menLof Reverend Pierre-Jean DeSmet, S.J., accepted the invitation of Right Reverend Bishop Miege, S.J., to come to Leavenworth (Kansas) in the Indian Territory. When asked by the bishop what the requirements of the community would be, Mother Xavier Ross, the foundress, asked that the sisters be .allowed to carry out "to the letter the Rules and Constitutions of St. Vincent de Paul.''~ On November I I., 1858, five,professed sisters, two postulants and one orphan girl reached Leavenworth by steamer late in the evening. In that frontier city, the sisters soon opened an academy (1860), an orphanage (I 863) and a hospital (1864).Christian education of youth, care of the sick, the poor and,orphaned continue to be the "works" of the sisters to this day. As new members joined the original small band, the Sisters of Charity of Leaven-worth set out from the Mother House for dioceses in California, Colorado, "Illinois, Missouri, Montana, Nebraska, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Wyoming and 'to Peru and Bolivia. Some 1700 women have joined the community since 1858; the community now numbers over 600. Rule From the beginning, the sisters intended to pattern their lives after the manner and ,thought of the Apostle of Charity, St. Vincent de Paul. An 111~2 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 undated note in Mother Xavier's handwriting says that she petitioned Pope Plus IX "to approve and sanction our practicing the Rules and Constitutions of St. Vincent de Paul (for the Daughters of Charity in France under the title of 'Sisters of Charity').''2 After the usual procedures, the congregation received definitive papal appr.obation in 1922. In 1958 and 1963, some modifi-cations of the Constitution, approved by Chapter Enactments, were submitted to Rome, but the Constitution.remained substantially the same. After Vatican II The Church summoned religious throughout the world to "renew and adapt." Communities were given permission, by way of experimentation, to alter temporarily certain prescriptions of their constitutions, provided that the nature, purpose and character of the institutes were safeguarded. Religious began the study of the documents of Vatican II, especially the decree Perfectae caritatis and the constitution Li~men gentium (chapters 5 and 6 especially), the motu proprio Ecclesiae sanctae and, later, the exhortation Evangelica testificatio. The Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, women of the Church, cooperated with the new direction set by the Church. The Mother General and her council involved all the sisters in a community develo.pment of a set of schemata devoted to the major facets of the religious life as this pertains to our congregation,s Research of primary sources in the community archives and other centers draws attention to the importance of understanding our original spirit.4 Sis-ters were asked to articulate responses to the question, "Who are we as Sisters ~ Histoo' of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth. Kansas. 1898. p. 45. 2Addenda Regarding the Code of Life for Religious. Special Commission on the Constitution and Customs, SCL Community Studies. 1967-68. JSisters of Charity of Leavenworth, Community Study 1967-1968: "The Sisters in the Church," "Life of the Counsels," "The Apostolate." "The Person in Community," "Government." "Spiritu-ality," and "Community." 4Our Vincentian Heritage: a study based on archival materials immediately connected with Mother Xavier Ross and on an analysis of the Letters of St. Vincent de Paul. Study of the Spirit of the Community. as shown in circular letters of the major superiors prior to 1950. The Spirituality of Mother Mao' Berchmans Carman, S. C. L. by Sister Rose Dominic Gabisch, S.C.L. Instructions to the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, given at the Mother House by Mother Xavier Ross. Archival material at the Mother House: several notebooks, written in Mother Xavier Ross's almost illegible handwriting, and a typed copy of the contents by Mother Leo Frances Ryan. S.C.L. and Sister Rose Dominic Gabisch. S.C.L. Comparative Study of the Constitutions, from the "Old Rule" through the Constitutions of 1915. 1922. 1958 and 1963. Parallels, a study of scriptural and theological foundations for the religious life following our present 1963 Constitutions. Development of a Constitution / 1103 of Charity of Leavenworth in the Church in the world?''s Special Chapter The Special General Chapter (1968-69) was the community's direct and formal response to Pope Paul Vl's mandate in Ecclesiae sanctae to implement the conciliar decrees. This Special Chapter, like Vatican Council I1, had for its program of action aggiornamento: "a stimulias to preserve the perennial vital-ity of the Church, its continual awareness and ability of studying the signs of the times, and its constantly youthful agility in 'thinking before an~,thing is done and holding on to what is good.'''6 The resultant interim documents, A Life of Charity and Living in Charity,7 represent "the results of the serious attempts of the community to respond to the challenge of th~ times and to the current needs of the Church.''8 The first book embodied the key themes and principles enunciated by the Special Chapter. The second .book showed how these principles and themes were to be carried out. Its revised edition9 was derived from the directives of the Eleventh General Chapter of the congregation (1973-74). 1974-19110 Elected in July, 1974, the Community Director and her Community Council, as the congregation's major superior and council are now known, were aware that the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council had said that the "prudent experiments" begun during the Special Renewal Chapters could be continued until the next ordinary general chapter. That ordinary chapter would be empowered to grant a further prolongation of prudent experimenta-tion, but not beyond the date of the subsequent chapter. The Community Director and Community Council knew that religious communities were expected to be working toward the text of their revised constitution for pres-entation for approval to the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. This meant, for the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, that the Twelfth Community Chapter of 1980 would be the second ordinary chapter beyond its "Renewal Chapter" of 1968-69. The Community Director and ~he Community Council, during their 5Statements on Nature and Purpos~ of the Sisters of Charit'y of Leavenworth by Members of the Community, "Resource for Schema on the Code of Life for Religious, a Self-Study." 6Ecclesiam Suam, n. 50. 7See A Life of Charity and Living in Charity, Directives of the Special Chapter of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth. 1968-69. 8Mother Leo Frances Ryan, S.C.L., ~'Circular Letter to the Community," Feast of the Resurrec-tion, 1970. 9See Living in Charity, Revised Edition. Directives of the Eleventh General Chapter of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth, 1973-74. I~Ol~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 annual planning days, came to key decisions: the community needed a clear statement of its mission in the Church in today's world, an "'agreed upon" articulation of its charism, and a definite expression of the community's manner of observing the three evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity and obedience. The director and council thought it time to mind Mother Xavier Ross's words: "It is wisdom to pause, to look back and see by what straight or twisting ways we have arrived at the place we find ourselves." Serious ques-tions needed probing. How deep is our spiritual renewal? Which of the "pru-dent experiments" produced the "good fruit"?. The sisters of the congregation needed to reflect prayerfully about these questions and to share their thoughts about their renewal experience with each other. The council sought a comprehensive plan that would involve all of the sisters, as well as each of the "standing committees" of the community--the Sisters' Forum, the Personnel Board, and the Spirituality Commission. The goal of this community involvement was to move soundly toward a written description of our basic identity and mission. If a set of obligations and responsibilities commensurate with that identity and mission could then be enunciated, a new Constitution would finally be developed. Strategy for Community Participation That comprehensive plan and its implementation are detailed in the fol-lowing pages covering the period 1978-1980. Special liturgical celebrations initiated all of the community occasions from the opening SCL Community Reflection on Ministry/Mission at the Sisters'Forum (March, 1978) to the concluding session of the Twelfth General Chapter (November, 1980). Too, the Spirituality Commission called all the sisters to a Year of Prayer and Penance for the 1980 chapter in June, 1979. Constitution Consultors The Constitution Consultors were a key group of sisters in the activities related to the development of the Constitution. These sisters, selected by the Community Director with the consent of the Community Council, were to be a resource group designed to facilitate the work of the community and, at the appropriate time, the work of the Community Chapter in its proper role of determining the final text of the Constitution. Each consultor was selected because of her special familiarity with the history of the community and its charism, her background in theology and Scripture, her ability to listen/facilitate, her ability to write clear English, her knowledge about psychological/human development or her experiential background in current social, trends~ All were Sisters of Charity of Leaven-worth for at least ten years. They were responsible to engage in a study aimed at acquiring expertise in the development of "the new law and the new consti-tutions," and then provide further service to the community for assimilating Development of a Constitution / 1105 "the new law and the new constitutions" for our times. A videotaped presenta-tion was succes.sfully, used in our communities throughout the country and in South America. The assistance of the Constitution Consultors proved invalu-able as the community moved through the various phases of developing the constitution. Reflection on Ministry/Mission The Community Director' presented the first formal introduction for what was to be a Reflection on Mission to the members of the Sisters' Forum on February ! i, 1978. Sister then set forth the time frame for the various activi-ties. The essential mission/ministry questions were addressed, and a bibliog-raphy distributed. Regional, local and area reflections were next in order. Personnel Board representatives scheduled meetings for sisters involved in each of the major "works" of the community. A common paper entitled "Mission and Ministry in John's Gospel and in Religious Life" was delivered at each such apostolate session. The Constitution Consultors circulated their tentative draft of the mission statement that incorporated, input from all these events. The sisters were invited to send responses and suggestions to the consuitors who revised their statement in light of these replies. They presented this revised Statement of the SCL Mission to the delegates of the chapter, and to its Commission on Mission/Ministry in particular. The commission further revised the state-ment, and the chapter approved this final form of the mission statement. It is in the new Constitution. This entire sequence of events surrounding the articulation of the mission statement was very valuable to the community and to the cohesiveness of the chapter in its work of development. Reflection on SCL Charism A workshop in the summer of 1979 prepared designated sisters to be group leaders for the charism reflection that was to take place throughout the com-munity. Sister Dominique Long, S.C.L., assisted by Sister Janice Futrell, O.S.B., from the Ministry Training Service in Denver, met with these sisters for an intense prep~aratiori. The sisters then successfully conducted "charism sessions" throughout the community. Again, the Constitution Consultors wrote a letter to the community explaining that they had reviewed the statements that resulted from these local meetings and extracted the key concepts common to most of the statements. They asked the sisters for a further response as the next step in the charism study. The conclusion was that the charism of the Sisters of Charity of Leaven-worth was already adequately expressed in the interim documents, and that the community seemed to favor threading the expression of our charism through those documents rather than attempting to formulate a specific 111)6 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 statement of charism. This information was made available to the chapter delegates. Study of the Vows In a circular letter reviewing community participation in the various phases of the Chapter Preparation, the Community Director next announced workshops on the vows at various regional centers. The Spirituality Commis-sion wrote all the sisters outlining the various materials available for the study of the vows. They enclosed a booklet, Focus on Vows, an annotated bibliog-raphy on the vows, and an article, "How to Live the Vows Today," by J.M.R. Tillard, O.P., together with some suggestions for a special celebration of the feast of Vincent de Paul. Ma'terial from the area reflections were sent by the Spirituality Commission to the Constitution Consultors for analysis. The material in summary form was then given to the Commission on Formation/ Spirituality of the Twelfth Community Chapter. Study of Interim Documents Next, the Constitution Consultors guided the community through an in-depth study of the interim documents, Life of Charity and Living in Charity. They offered a formal procedure by which each sister would prayerfully con-sider her personal experience of renewal in light of the interim documents" expression of the Gospel, the spirit of Mother Xavier "Ross, and the commun-ity response to the signs of the times. Several hours were required to finish the study (many sisters using more than one session of two hours). For example, they examined each page, section or norm in the document to evaluate its degree of importance in their lives. The over-all response was heartening. The vast majority of sisters returned a completed survey. The Constitution Con-sultors' analyses of the various sections of these responses were of invaluable assistance to the chapter delegates and to each commission of the chapter. The exercise not only renewed an appreciation of the community documents, it proved helpful to the writers of the Constitution as well. Proximate Preparation for Chapter The election of chapter delegates was scheduled early enough for all dele-gates to be available for a chapter-preparation workshop in December, 1979. The delegates established commissions (Spirituality]Formation, Mission/ Ministry, Community/Government and expressed their preference for joining one or the other. A panel of Constitution Consultors briefed the delegates on the work of the consultation, and distributed materials to each commission. At the preliminary meetings each commission explored what was to be the scope of its work, the manner of drafting proposals, and the function of the Chapter Central Committee. David Fleming, S.M., and Sister Mary Kevin Ford, C.S.J., spoke to the delegates on the chapter as an ecclesial/community event. The Personnel Board, a group of sisters representing each of the commu- Development of a Constitution nity's apostolates and ministries, drafted a pre-chapter questionnaire. The questionnaire surveyed each sister's thinking about community living, govern-ment, spirituality, formation, the vows, and apostolic service. Some questions required the sister to assess the entire decade of renewal. This survey, com-pleted by about 550 of the community's 630 sisters, enabled the respondent to .express her thoughts anonymously. Each sister sent the completed question-naire directly to Liguori Publications, a Missouri Religious Life Service Department, where the responses were tabulated by computer and the ques-tionnaires destroyed. Printouts in the categories of chronological age, time since first vows, and apostola.te were sent to each community. Data revealing the sisters' assessment of the renewal years came from answers to questions such as: "Which best expresses your opinion on the changes in our religious life? . When I reflect on my own personal experience of the decade of renew-al, 1 think that of all the areas of my life, the most positively affected aspect was: community living, ministry/apostolate, spirituality (prayer, liturgy, etc.), way of governance, observation of the vows." These computerized evaluation reports were sent to the chapter delegates. In February, 1979, the sisters received copies of the format for submitting proposals for the 1980 chapter with a "flow chart" that depicted the route of the proposal from the sender to the chapter delegates. A second and third mailing drew attention again to the procedure by which any sister or group of sisters could make a proposal for the delegates to consider in chapter. By the deadline (May !, 1980), 113 proposals had been forwardi:d to the respective commission chairperson. The Community/Government Commission received 45 proposals, the Spirituality/Formation, 35, and Mission/Ministry, 33. The Chapter Analysis of the Period of Renewal The Church, as early as 1950, encouraged religious to adapt themselves to the changing times, and to join the new and old in harmonious union. Our community response to that mandate touched every aspect of our religious life--our way of living, praying, working and governance. The varying ways of measuring the impact on our community of over a decade of intensive renewal and adaptation had been alluded to in, several of the previous sec-tions. It remained for each commission to bring together all of the informa-tion from the various community chapter-preparation activities, to sift it all carefully, and to present the commission's own assessment to the chapter. This was done early in the chapter sessions. Development of Proposals Six months after the delegates' pre-chapter workshop, all chapter commis-sions had to have the first draft of their proposals in the hands of all the delegates (May, 1980). All proposal's [rom the various community groups and individual sisters had, of course, been received earlier. At this time, the chair- III)11 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 persons of the three commissions, who themselves formed part of the Central Committee, estimated the number of proposals their respective commission would actually present to the assembly. From this information, the Central Committee drafted a tentative agenda which the delegates approved for the assembly sessions. The work of the chapter now entered a crucial phase, as the proposals were being honed for chapter action. In all, thirty of the proposals of the Spiritu-ality/ Formation Commission were enacted by the chapter, about half of these relating to vows and spirituality, the other half to formation. The Mission/ Ministry Commission's ten proposals were favorably acted upon by the dele-gates. And the chapter delegates passed twenty-nine proposals of the Com-mission on Community]Government, all but seven of them relating to governance. The chapter then recessed so that the Writing Committee, selected from among the Constitution Consultors, could commence its work. First Draft This committee set about the task of writing a draft of the Constitution which was to be presented to the chapter delegates for approval. The content of the draft was, of course, the material already approved by the Community Chapter. At the same time, the Writing Committee attempted to preserve the literary form of the interim documents. In general, they followed the principle that doctrinal, theological, inspirational and juridical.elements should be blended throughout the Constitution. The writers asked that each delegate and each sister read the circulated first draft, using for their criteria in reading clarity, simplicity, accuracy, brevity of language, and the conformity of the text with the enactments of the Community Chapter and the general law of the Church. The writers also had sent the draft to Father Thomas Clarke, S.J., and Father~ Francis Morrisey, O.M.I., for a critical reading of the text from a theological and canonical perspective respectively. Revised Draft After considering the recommendations of the chapter delegates, the other sisters in the community, and those of Father David O'Connor, a canonist (Father Morrisey had not returned from Rome in time to read the material), the Writing Committee prepared a revised draft of the Constitution. A copy of this revised draft was then sent to each local house. Each delegate also received a copy to study prior to the chapter meeting. In a covering letter, the writers explained that they had eliminated or revised some articles. In some instances, an article was removed because it merely repeated a canon that need not be repeated. In other instances, the writers acted on the advice to state only the substance of the chapter action in the Constitution, putting the other details into a book of chapter enactments. They explained that this would not change the nature of the chapter action, Development of a Constitution / 809 nor diminish the importance of its implementation. In any event, the letter stated, the delegates would meet to review and approve or not approve these decisions of the committee. Final Draft The Twelfth Community Chapter of the Sisters of Charity of Leavenworth met for its final session to receive the report of the Constitution Consultors. The Constitution Consultors reported the changes incorporated by the writers by reason of the critique of the first draft made by the delegates themselves, as well as by the other sisters and experts consulted. Book I of the first draft, for example, had bee~n re-written in the first person. Sisters who had reviewed the earlier draft of the book, written in the second person, objected to this change. Delegates were asked to make additional editorial changes, reflecting the latest revisions, to conform with style and content suggestions. The president of the Chapter asked the delegates to consider both Book I and Book I1, section by section. Following this, the chairperson of the Consti-tution Consult'ors, herself a delegate to the Chapter, moved the acceptance of the Constitution as circulatetl, presented, discussed and amended by the Twelfth Community Chapter. The motion passed unanimously. The last action of the Chapter was to mandate that the Community Director and the Chairperson of the Constitution Consultors personally take the Constitution to Rome for presentation. And there the matter rests, a task completed and a future begun. The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Let All God's Glory Through Donald Macdonald, S.M.M. Father Macdonald, whose last article, "To Experience God," appeared in the issue of March, 1981. has returned to England for a period of study. His present address is: Montfort Mission-aries: 18 Donaldson Rd.; London NW6 6N6; England. ~ remember once chatting with a young couple engaged to be married. When it was suggested that we have a cup of tea, the girl got up to put on the kettle. Seconds after she moved, the young man stood up, vaulted the settee on which he had been sitting, crossed the floor of the room and held the door open for the girl. Because possibly few religious have ever felt that way about anyone, or have ever received such attention in their adult lives, many find it hard to believe that this is the way God feels about them: "the Son of God. loved me and gave himself for me" (Ga 2:20) or, as a later age put it, "we are his [Jesus'] bliss, in us he delights without end."l Lacking such experience, our faith finds it hard to "take off." Nowhere, I think, is this more evident than in our attitude to our Lady. Many of us religious find it hard to credit that she is so loved by God, and, therefore, such a marvelously attractive person in her own right. We then tend to subject her to the slow death of a thousand qualifications. We are ill at ease with her, not because of anything she has done to us, but because we never' quite know how to "place" her. Our first introduction to her was, for many of us, in the company of our parents when we were children. They saw to it that we met someone they knew well on good days and bad. We entered religious congregations, only to find that our founders, too, shared a common devotion to her. The present Ho!y Father is evidently devoted to her, and this is seen by. more than the letter M on his coat-of-arms? Our Lady is part of the wider air ~Julian of Norwich. Revelations of Divine Love. Ch. 23, N.Y. 1977. 810 Let All God's Glory Through / 811 we breathe as Catholics. But, when we try to be more specific, we are uneasy. Have her anywhere near the center, and she seems to usurp the role of the Holy Spirit. This, of course, could never be acceptable--not least at the present time. Yet is she on the periphery of our relationship with God? It might be worthwhile looking again at Mary in the light of the Church and the Gospel. The Church has reminded us of the "various attitudes that bind her to Mary.: profound veneration., burning love., trusting invocation. loving service., zealous imitation., profound wonder., attentive study.''3 Clearly these are sparks from a fire, not a catalogue from a library. What of the person who so attracts, and who .forges such links? For the Church to speak of anyone like that could only be because the Chu.rch is in love with her. We are the Church. Do these words speak for us? Is that how we see her? Mary is part of the Church. To what extent is she part of us? Full of Grace St. Luke's two-volume work, Gospel and Acts, is particularly strong on personality and persons, including some of the most loved in the Christian world. Our Lady is among them. The account of the birth of Christ in which she first appears is written in a deliberately "old-world" style, in part, that is characteristic of the Old Testament. Yet it is light and beautiful and inspiring. As literature it is superb. What if its content is true? God is coming on earth. No wonder the account is alive with puzzlement, astonishment and joy. Who could find words to convey adequately such a message? Yet Luke, in pausing to introduce his gospel, leaves us in no doubt that "having followed all things closely for some time past" he has been careful to check "that you may know the truth" (Lk 1:3-4). His head is not being ruled by his heart. The old order, he writes, is changing. A son is to be born to an old man Zachary and his wife Elizabeth. This is "good news., joy and gladness. many will rejoice at his birth . . . to make ready for the Lord a people prepared"(Lk l: 13, 14, 17, 19). Expectancy, possibility and fulfillment almost beyond imagining is the good news from God--and this only in regard to the birth of the future John the Baptist. It is against this background that we first meet our Lady. She is greeted in a way familiar from the Old Testament: "Hail O favored one, the Lord is with you"(Lk i:28). As Luke uses these words they imply that Mary has been loved and graced by God for a long time. Now, ~is it were, God's love reaches such a 2"'If 1 may be permitted to speak here of my own experience, I will say., that in writing to you I am referring especially to my own personal experience . [A]t the beginning of my ministry I entrust all of you to the Mother of Christ. entrust., your priesthood to her in a special way. Allow me to do it myself, entrusting to the Mother of Christ each one of you" (John Paul Letter to Priests, 419179). 3Paul VI, Marialis Cultus, n. 22 (CTS. 1974). 1112 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 pitch that it comes cascading into her life. God wants her to do something for him as an expression of his love for her and for all people. Here is "good news of a great joy which will come to all the people" (Lk 2:!0). Clearly, if God wishes Mary to do something for him, he must give her the means to do it. This is why she is addressed as "Hail, O favored one, the Lord is with you." In the light of the Old T~stament, the greeting recalls the time when Gideon, the farmer's son, was approached by God with the greeting: ."the Lord is with you, valiant warrior!" (Jg 6:12). Understandably he protests that there must be some mistake. He is a farmer not a fighter, and could not possibly undertake the role of freedom-fighter, leader of the people. But God promises to be with him. Gideon therefore has a new identity: "valiant war-rior." He was a farmer. He is a fighter. The power of God will see to this. So when Mary is addressed "Hail, O favored one, the Lord is with you," she, too, is given an identity and a role. This is not empty compliment. It is a statement of who she is as she allows God's love full scope in her life. Her personality becomes fully alive as an expression of God's will. As love from a friend can deepen and enrich life so too with God and our Lady. Such is the love given and received that Mary is to give birth to a son, and "the child to be born will be called holy, the son of God"(Lk 1:35). The word holy attempts to say who God is. Holiness is the "is-ness" of God: "Whatever it is you are wanting to say about God you will find it all summed up and contained in this little word is. Mention every one of [the attributes of God] and you have said nothing extra; say nothing at all and you do not diminish him.TM Who God is, as the Old Testament understands it, is summed up in the word holy. God is then holy, essentially other, quite beyond our categories of understandii~g. To come into contact with God in any way one has to become holy, become like God as far as this can be: "Come no nearer, ~take off your shoes. This is holy ground" (Ex 3:5). God's presence on Sinai and later in the Jerusalem Temple made these places charged with the holiness of God himself (See Ex 19:12; Is 6:1-7). Invitation, purification, awe and worship are required before anyone dare venture near the presence of God. To understand, then, what St. Luke is saying of our Lady, one needs some such feeling for the word holy. So intimately present is God to her that the child to'be born of her "will be called holy, the Son of God." Only then can we see the genesis of the "profound veneration . . . profound wonder" in the Church's contemplation of our Lady. Open to the Spirit Like Gideon and Zachary, Mary, too, is greatly troubled: "How can this be since I know not man?" (Lk 1:34). The answer is so familiar: "The Holy 4"The Epistle of Privy Counsel," Ch. 4, in the Cloud of Unknowing and Other l~orks (Penguin Books, 1978). Let All God's Glory Through / 1113 Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you" (Lk 1:35). Again a wonderful world opens up, illuminating further the person and role of Mary. To describe the Spirit coming upon her, Luke uses the same verb he will later use to describe the Spirit of God coming upon and calling into life the early Church at Pentecost (see Acts !:8). Her receptivity to God's loving creative spirit, allowing his will free rein in her regard, opens up again the possibility that the face of the earth will be renewed. The wider background is perhaps not without echoes of the opening of Genesis. There, the Spirit of God hovered like a bird over .the formless void. The presence of God's creative spirit produced a universe of pattern, purpose and mystery. "The darkness over the deep" (Gen: 1:2) was no more. With the coming of the Spirit upon our Lady so powerfully and joyfully, there, too, issues a new creation (see 2 Co 5:17). Mankind will never be the same again in its intimacy with God. The universe is now to be illumined by a new divine light (see Lk 2:32). While the main emphasis is self-ex;idently on the child to be born, inevitably this reflects on the person of our Lady. It seems scarcely credible that God could use her merely as a passive, if willing, tool. The birth of a child to a woman is an aberration if it is not wholly personal. God's loving, creative Spirit is not programming a computer. Genuine love heightens personality. Light Wherewith to See "How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of one who brings good news, who heralds peace, proclaims salvation, brings happiness" (ls 52:7). If this is true of the message and the messenger, what of its transforming effect on the0one for whom it is meant? "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior" (Lk 1:46-47). The overshadowing of Mary'by the Spirit of God, invited to love .her without any reserve--"l :am the handmaid of the Lord, let it be to me according to ~,our word" (Lk 1:38)--is not the offering of something but, insofar as a creature can receive, rather the loving, personal gift of God's presence. God's love has been poured into her heart through the Holy Spirit which has been given her (see Rm 5:5). Here, above a:ll, we see "Give and it will be given to you; good measure, pressed .down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap" (Lk 6:38). "For the spirit reaches the depths of everything, even the depths of God" ('! Co 2:i0). The core of the sun or the accumulated energy of the greatest stars is but created-- though unimaginably great to us. How begin to plumb the depths of God-- the uncreated one? We do not have the capacity. Yet, such is our faith, that through the giftof God "now we have received., the Spirit .that comes from God, to teach us to understand the gifts that he has given us" ( ! Co 2:12).5 Cot ad cot loquitur. If this is true of Paul, of his people, and of us, what of our Lady? The depths of her being were touched by the depths of God. As Augus-tine said of the spoken word, it can go from his heart and be possessed by his 1114 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 hearers, yet never leave him. So when the Spirit overshadows our Lady she becomes God's temple, and God's Spirit is particularly with her (see I Co 3:16). God is ever with her. She is always with God. She thus glorifies God in her body (! Co 6:20). The result of such experience must be illumination, albeit lived in faith. For the God who said "let light shine out of darkness" has shone in her heart to radiate the light of the knowledge of God's glory, the glory on the face of Christ (see 2 Co 4:6). The Spirit's gift to her of a son--and such a son--is as the creation of light in the life of Mary. Her whole personality, body and spirit, would reflect her son. Thus, in time, she would be turned into the image of Christ which she reflected. She is the Mother of God. This, of course, is the work of the Lord who is Spirit (see 2 Co 3:17-18). Her eyesight would not see, but her insight (faith) would assimilate life lived in the light of her son. The effect on others of her spirit-filled personality taught her much (see Lk 1:42-43, 45; 2:19). So power-ful a presence has she with her child in her arms that she ~would enter the Temple with him and the place would never be the same again. In her son she brings "a light of revelation to the Gentiles and . . . glory to . . . Israel" (Lk 2:32). So said an old man, Simeon, "and the Holy Spirit was upon him" (Lk 2:25). So he too could "see." "Inspired by the Spirit he came into the temple'" (Lk 2:27) and with our Lady's child in his arms, could say from his heart that now he could die in peace "for my eyes have seen., salvation., a light. glory . . ." (Lk 2:29-32). This is the work of the Spirit. She visits her cousin Elizabeth, and again, such is the effect of her presence that at the very sound of her voice greeting her cousin "the babe leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit" (Lk 1:42). She radiates the Spirit from a personality at one with the will of God. Her being was attuned to the will of God as no creature's has ever been. She is a reflective person who "kept all these things in her heart" (Lk 2:51)--a heart ever open to the illuminating Spirit of God. In a sacramental world, she above all would see God in Christ. It is the "pure of heart" who see God (see Mt 5:8). Open to Her Spirit This realization of the presence of the Spirit in our Lady can help us see why the Church is so attracted to her. One would like to think that today few would confuse insight and perception with formal education. They are not ~"His [the Holy Spirit's] approach is. to enlighten the mind, first of the man who receives him, then, through him, the minds of others also . As a man previously in darkness suddenly seeing the sun receives his sight and sees clearly what he did not see before, so the man deemed worthy of the Holy Spirit is enlighteng,d in soul and sees beyond the power of human sight what he did not know before" (Cyril of Jerusalem: To Catechumens, 16. See Office of Readings: Eastertide, Week 7, Monday). Let All God's Glory Through necessarily linked. Some things in life are never understood until they are loved. The biblical tradition and centuries of the Church would seem to corroborate this as far as understanding anything of God is concerned. "He may well be loved but not thought. By love he can be caught and held, but by thinking never.''6 This is not a fundamentalist anti-intellectual polemic. Faith, love and worship alone know who God is. Kathleen Raine's illuminating comment in another context can perhaps summarize this: "To those who rule out life, an acorn is a poor kind of pebble. The difference is not of degree but of kind.''7 To view any Christian, especially our Lady, without at the same time allowing for the mysteriously lavish action of the Holy Spirit, is indeed to view the acorn as a poor kind of pebble. Religious, therefore, wishing to live wholly for her son in the Spirit would do well to open themselves to whatever love and influence our Lady can bring to bear on them. Time in the company of our Lady is time in the presence of God. Our faith is incarnational, and she is one of the loveliest expressions of the love of God. There are no steps to the guru here. She is so approachable, so uncomplicated. Moses' contact with the holiness of God was such that tradition says his face had to be veiled, as people feared the light reflected there. Not so our Lady. Nondescript shepherds can approach her child and wonder. An old man can take her child from her arms. Her cousin Elizabeth saw her come to her own home, and how pleased she was to see her. Our Lady centers the delight and welcome where they properly belong: "He who is mighty has done great things for me"(Lk 1:49). It remains true that our Lady is blessed among women, and blessed, too, is the fruit of her womb. She is the mother of our Lord, blessed because she believed. "He (Jesus) wills that it be known that all those who delight in him should delight in her, and in the delight he takes in her and she in him.''s Generations in the Church have known and done just that. ~The Cloud of Unknowing, Ch. 6 (Penguin Books, 1975). 7Defending Ancient Springs (Oxford University Press, 1967). 8Julian of Norwich. Revelations of Divine Love, Ch. 25, N.Y. 1977. The Rite of Religious Profession and the Ignatian Tradition Gerald K O'Connor, S.J. Father O'Connor teaches at St. Joseph's Preparatory School and resides at the Ferdinand Farmer Residence; 4520 Chester Ave.; Philadelphia. PA 19143. Many religious communities, especially those following the tradition of the Society of Jesus, have traditionally pronounced their vows before the Sacra-ment at the communion of the Mass of Profession. The new Rite of Religious Profession (RRP), in #15 of its Praenotandao advises that this tradition of professio super hostiam be dropped in favor of profession following the hom-ily of the Mass as a response to the Word of God. A.number of communities have already elected to follow the Roman directive, substituting the ceremony in RRPfor their original lgnatian practice. I believe, though, that it is possible to abide by the directives of RRP while still retaining the core of the Ignatian tradition. In an article which appeared in the Archivum Historicum Sbcietatis lesu in 1940,t I.A. Zeiger discussed the possible origins of profession before the Sacrament in the Society of Jesus. Zeiger's conclusion was that the early Jesuits had borrowed a long-standing medieval tradition of solemnizing an oath through, a ritual "ordeal." The person swearing the oath or vow placed his hand on some sacred object to show the seriousness of his oath and to invoke God as a witness to the truth and honesty of what he was swearing. The "ordeal" of such a ritual obviously lay in the understanding of all parties that a false oath or vow would be punished by the deity represented by the ~I.A. Zeiger. "Pr0fessio Super Hostiam: Ursprung und Sinngehalt der Professform in der Gesell-schaft- Jesu." Archivum Historicum Societatis lesu, vol. 9. pp. 172-188. 816 Rite of Religious Profession and Ignatian Tradition / 1117 sacred object. The Blessed Sacrament was the most sacred thing upon which an oath could possibly be sworn, and Zeiger cites a number of instances of oaths taken with the hand on the Sacrament. When it became unacceptable for non-priests to touch the Sacrament, the ceremony was adapted so that the oath was sworn while the priest held the Host aloft. The reception of communion after the oath was the final seal on the swearer's act. This ceremony fits perfectly into the description of the vows taken by Ignatius and his first companions at Montmartre and later in Rome. Father William Bangert describes the simple ceremony which Ignatius and his first companions celebrated at Montmartre in 1534.2 Pierre Favre, the only priest in the group, celebrated Mass. At communion he turned to face his companions while holding up the Host. One by one, they vowed poverty, chastity, and a journey to the Holy Land. If it were not possible to travel to Jerusalem within the following year, they would place themselves at the ser-vice of the pope. These first vows were not the vows of religion strictly speaking since there was as yet no superior, no real Society established. Still, the ceremony at Montmartre must have been an important step for Ignatius, for years later he prescribed the same ceremony for pronouncing vows in the newly approved Society of Jesus.3 With the acceptance of the Constitutions by the Holy See, this essentially private ceremony of vows before the Blessed Sacrament became a formal ceremony of religious profession. It is the ceremony of profession as described in the Constitutions that was later borrowed by many religious communities and incorporated into their rituals as the professio super hostiam. Now the heart of the ceremony, as we have seen, is the ritual touching of some sacred object while reciting the vow formula or oath. The question can therefore be asked whether or not this central action can be adapted in some way that would accord with the proposed outline of religious profession in RRP. I believe it can be adapted. The elevated Host is sacred precisely as an outward sign or sacramentum of God's presence in the midst of the community. However, the Host is not the only such sign present in the celebration of the liturgy. The Decree on the Sacred Liturgy of the Second Vatican Council teaches us that the Lord is also present in His Word and in the people.4 It is the presence of the Lord in his Word that has become the center of attention in RRP. 1 suggest that it would be in keeping with the core of the lgnatian tradition for those pronouncing vows to do so while holding or touching the Book of 2William Bangert, A History of the Society of Jesus (Institute of Jesuit Sources, St. Louis, 1972), p. 16. Hgnatius of Loyola, Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, (Institute of Jesuit Sources, St. Louis, 1970), George E. Ganss (trans.), n. 525. 4See no. 7. 11111 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 the Gospels. The central ritual action would remain the same: the ordeal of swearing on some sacred object which signifies the presence of God in our midst. What would be changed is the particular symbol chosen to r~present the presence of the Lord. Numbers 12 and 14 of the Praenotanda to RRP require that the ceremonies outlined in the rite be adapted to the spirituality and traditions of each religious family. The adapation I have proposed is just such an adaptation to the traditions of Ignatius and the Society of Jesus. There is nothing in RRP which would prohibit the one pronouncing vows from touching or holding some sacred object during the reading of the vow formula. There are also some positive reasons in favor of the ceremony l have suggested, As we have seen the emphasis in RRP is on the vows as a response to the Word of God. Pronouncing the vows while touching the Book of the Gospels from which God's Word has just been proclaimed in the assembly would further emphasize the intrinsic connection between God's call and the response of the one making vows. Since Vatican II Catholics have begun to recapture the primitive symbol-ism of God's presence in his Word. While an older generation of Catholics was raised on various devotions to the Blessed Sacrament, the younger generation is more likely to have been raised on Scripture services and Bible vigils. The Word of God is as important and vital a symbol of the Lord's presence in the Church today as was the lamp before the tabernacle in the recent past. Neither symbol is complete in itself, neither is better than its complement, but either symbol may speak more clearlyoto a particular generation. RRP has called on all religious communities to adapt their profession ceremonies in light of the new ritual. But the emphasis is on adaptation, not on simple adoption of the new rite. It is possible for those communities which have inherited their traditions of religious profession from Ignatius Loyola to accept the insights of the new rite, while remaining true to the essential core of the lgnatian tradition. In preparing for the adaptations invited by RRP we must enter more deeply into the essential elements of our profession rites. Both individually and as communities we have the opportunity to grow in our understanding of our traditions as we work to adapt them to the new rite. The suggestion made here is one attempt to seize such opportunities. Ongoing Conversion and Religious Life Miriam Louise Gramlich, L H.M. A frequent contributor to these pages, Sister Miriam Louise continues to live and work at St. Mary Convent: 610 WestElm Ave.: Monroe. MI 48161. At a time when a number of religious congregations are preparing to update their constitutions for canonical approval, many communities are engaged once again in a new study of their documents. Although the work of revision is generally entrusted to a special Documents Committee, individual members are often encouraged to take an active part in such a study by submitting their insights and recommendations to the committee. In such preparation, many individuals engage in study groups or small-group discussions on the essence of religious life, earnestly considering such questions as: "At this point in time, how do we see ourselves? What do we believe are the most important elements of religious life? What identifies us as religious?" and the like. Such study and discussion furnished a springboard for this writer to research and reflect on ongoing conversion as one essential component of any truly spiritual life. It was exciting to discover that many reputable contemporary theologians also hold this view. Bernard Lonergan maintains that conversion is fundamental to religious living. He says it is not a topic studied in traditional theology since it is too dynamic to remain with the abstract or the static. It occurs in the lives of individuals not merely as a change, or even a development, but more often as a "radical transformation," a complete about-face in one's relations to others and to God. He further believes that reflection on the ongoing process of conversion may uncover the real foundation of theological renewal, its aggiornamento. * Many religious regard their response to their vocation, their religious profession, as a deep conversion experience. They may question whether a 819 1~20 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 radical, new conversion is possible after one has sincerely committed one's whole life to God. Yet most of us can remember occasions in our lives--times of crisis or quiet times of retreat--when we did experience a deepening and intensifying of our original consecration to Christ. After the initial surrender, our lives are meant to express an ever deeper self-realization, a continual act of self-giving and abandonment to God, a continual conversion. This has to be done throughout our lives. More growth in our surrender is always pos-sible. Depending upon each new situation, we are capable of further growth and maturity in love. Scripture gives us a good example in St. Peter, who although he had faithfully responded to his vocation of following Christ, found further conversions in his life necessary. Before Peter's denial at the time of the Passion, Jesus foretells his apostle's conversion: "I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail, and once you have been converted, you in turn must strengthen your brothers" (Lk 22:31). Conversion, then, is necessarily ongoing,, for religious life calls for con-tinual growth and development. On earth all of us remain pilgrims on the way, and although we may be just, at the same time we realize that we are sinful and in need of overcoming sin through grace and love. Nature of Conversion The word conversion signifies a "turning around" in an opposite direction, making a countermovement. A person has turned in a wrong direction and must retrace his way. For the psychologist William James, conversion is the process, gradual or sudden, in which the divided self becomes unified (p. 123). It means a change in what he calls "the habitual center of personal energy"-- the group of ideas and values to which a person devotes himself. "To say that a man is 'converted' means that religious ideas previously peripheral., now take a central place, and that religious aims form the habitual center of his energy" (p. 125). The converted person now finds new values and meanings in his life; he thinks differently and relates differently. In short, for him life is transformed. In religious conversion, God takes the initiative in calling back the one who has strayed from him. No human being is self-sufficient; no one is able to return to the Father through his own resources. Conversion is possible only through God's grace. Through his merciful love, the Father has sent Jesus Christ, his beloved Son, to live and die for us. Jesus dwelt on earth to reveal the merciful and forgiving love of his Father and to show us the way back to him. His sufferings and death have won for us the grace that is the sole source of all conversion. *Bernard Lonergan. "Theology In Its New Context" from Conversion. Ed. by Walter E. Corm, Ph.D. New York: Alba House, 1978, pp. 12-20. References to other theologians and writers are taken from this book and the pages are indicated in the body of the article. Ongoing Conversion and Religious Life Dom Marc-Fran~;ois Lacan defines religious conversion as "a grace of light which reveals both the ingratitude of man in sinning and the goodness and mercy of God toward him." This grace is received when there is humble admission of sin, an opening up with confidence to the goodness and love of God who desires to forgive. It involves a change of heart in which "the converted one acknowledges his need, humbly accepts God's pardon, opens himself to the grace which renews his heart, and asks confidently for the grace of his transformation." Furthermore, Dom Lacan holds that it is through a necessary and ongoing conversion and renewal that man succeeds in respond-ing to God's call, to his vocation and mission (pp. 75, 79). For Karl Barth, conversion means waking up, ,rising from the sleep of death," or more correctly, a "being awakened," since awakening and rising are possible only "in the power of the mystery and miracle of God" (p. 35). Karl Rahner sees conversion as "fundamental decision"--a basic choice intended to turn a person's entire life to God; likewise, it is response to a call from God made possible through grace. "This call of God is both Jesus Christ himself as the presence of the kingdom of God in person., and his Spirit as the. presence which as God's self-communication, offers freedom and forgive-ness to overcome the narrow limitations and sinfulness of man" (p. 204). Rahner explains that insofar as conversion is concrete concern and obedience to God's call, it is faith; as a turning from the past and abandoning one's own securities, "trusting oneself to the uncharted way into the open and incalcu-lable future in which God comes," conversion is hope; and insofar as it con-sists in unselfish love of God, neighbor and self, conversion is charity (p. 206). Bernard Haring also regards conversion as "radical decision," a humble, grateful and joyous acceptance of the kingdom of God in Christ (p. 216). For Charles Curran, conversion is believing in the "Good News" and turning to the Father. It is heeding the message of Jesus: "The time has come ¯ . . and the reign of God is at hand. Be converted and believe in the Good News" (Mk 1:15). He emphasizes its joyful aspect: "Conversion is a joyfu.l proclamation of God's love, calling for a change of heart." The prodigal son's return to his father was a joyful experience (p. 225). Perhaps Bernard Lonergan's description of conversion best sums up the foregoing ideas: "Religious conversion., is other-worldly falling in love. It is a total and permanent self-surrender without conditions, qualifications or reservations . For Christians, it is God's love flooding our hearts through the Holy Spirit given to us. It is the gift of grace . . ." (p. 18). From all these definitions, it is clear that conversion involves both initiative on the part of God and response on the part of man. In this return to the Father through the Son in the grace of the Spirit, the self is both objective and subjective, both active and passive. Patterns and Dimensions of Conversion Although every conversion, like every person, is unique, certain patterns 1t22 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 and dimensions can be discerned. As already mentioned, some conversions are sudden while others are gradual. Even in those that appear sudden, such as St. Paul's and St. Augustine's, there could well have been a longer time of preparation than we know. Some psychologists and counselors call attention to the frequency of con-versions at the time of adolescence, yet they frankly admit that these can often be the result of suggestion rather than of real growth or maturity in the person's spiritual life, and tend to be transitory. A large number of great religious personalities, such as Paul, Augustine, and Teresa of Avila, experi-enced deep conversion later in life. The one unanimous opinion of theologians and psychologists is in favor of ongoing conversion. Not only in adolescence is a person brought into a new life of maturity and personal insight, but conversion or renewal takes place all through life. Since we live from moment to moment, day to day, year to year, we can never accomplish total spiritual maturity in this life. We can only move toward it. Ongoing conversion in religious life may well be a movement from a merely external and conventional practice of "regular observance," of rules and regulations, to one in which a true interior commitment and surrender to the will of God is paramount. Sometimes external observances, even external worship, can be obstacles to conversion when they become the sole criteria of dove and justice. The hypocrisy of the Pharisees consisted basically in reducing the interior worship of God to mere externals. Although a sound formation is an important element in religious life, if it is over-emphasized it could hinder conversion and the transformation that is the result of conversion. Rosemary Haughton, who considers the importance of both formation and transformation, feels that a good formation is neces-sary for a person to form correct judgments and make right decisions, but it may become a hindrance to true renewal and transformation. She writes: This is the dilemma. A good formation, according to a sound customary and moral law, is necessary if a person is to be able to respond to the demand for the decision to love. Yet if this formation is really good and really thorough, it may. just because it is good, prevent the person from being aware of the need for repentance and decision. No need for repentance will appear, therefore no change of heart, no transformation, will be possible (p. 26). Some religious may find their days characterized by hyperactivity, clut-tered with needless trivia. Often sincere, devout religious become dissatisfied and yearn for something more than their present religious life is giving them. They may feel the need of more time for prayer and reflection. Always it is necessary to stay spiritually awake, to be aware of new calls from God, lest we become like the foolish virgins who let their lamps go out, like the apostles who slept in Gethsemane during Christ's agony. And when these calls come, we must answer them promptly. There is an insistent quality about them. If we do not respond at once, the same opportunity may not come again. The time Ongoing Conversion and Religious Life is always now. "Now is the acceptable time." Now is the time to wake up from sleep and seek the Lord, as Isaiah reminds us: Seek Yahweh while he is to be found. call him while he is still near (55:6). Finally, it is necessary to note that a deep, sincere conversion has always had not only a personal, individual dimension but a communal, social one as well. However, the latter dimension has been given more importance in our time. The emphasis in years past may have been more on striving for God's glory through individual perfection and salvation. Today it manifests itself in seeking God's glory through greater cosmic love and compassion, a conver-sion which leads to more determination to spread Christ's kingdom through selfless service of the world's poor and suffering. In fact, for anyone aiming at wholeness and self-fulfillment, conversion cannot be purely a private matter, an individual concern. As Karl Barth puts it: "The man who wants to be converted only for his own sake and for himself rather than to God the Lord and to entry into the service of His cause on earth and as His witness in the cosmos, is not the whole man" (p. 39). Since by becoming incarnate, Jesus took this world and everything human so seriously, the converted person, in imitation of his model, takes a positive view of the "here and now." He sees his relationship to all his neighbors as immensely important, because he perceives Christ in each one of them: "1 was hungry and you gave me food" (Mt 25:35). He will be involved, in the first place, with his own immediate religious community, viewing it as his spiritual family, and realizing that those have first claim on his love and concern who have opted to live and labor intimately with him for the spread of the kingdom. At the same time, the truly converted religious, open to the Spirit, will be aware of the social sin present in so many institutions and structures of our society today, and will earnestly pray and work to eradicate the social injustices that oppress and exploit so many people. These unjust structures can be changed only through a deliberate commitment on the part of many correctly informed persons to participate coni:retely and realistically in the day-to-day struggle to liberate the poor and oppressed. Through new minis-tries and new means of involvement, today's converted religious is becoming more effective in this mission of liberation. We are in a better position now to recognize'the lineaments and to draw ¯ the portrait of the converted person, the man or woman wholly turned towards God, completely "for God." Although a new creature in Christ, such a person realizes that the rem-nants of the old self still cling to him. He cannot always do the good he wants to do and must constantly struggle against a downward pull, an inveterate tendency towards selfishness and self-will. St. Paul describes this inward con-flict so well. He writes: "The Law is spiritual but 1 am unspiritual . I cannot 1~211 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 understand my own behavior. 1 fail to carry out the things I want to do and I find myself doing the very things 1 hate., though the will to do what is good is in me, the performance is not," and he concludes: "What a wretched man 1 am! Who will rescue me from this body doomed to death?" His answer is that this can come only "through Jesus Christ our Lord!" (Rm 7:14-25). It is in Christ then that the converted person comes to recognize and accept what he is in himself, but also to realize the self as God's gift. Through grace, he sees himself as a lovable person because he is loved by God and others in spite of everything he knows about his own weaknesses, failures and even sinfulness. Through constant, ongoing conversion, Love has gradually become his raison d'etre. With each new surrender to God's will and provi-dence, his life is becoming transformed. He is the same person and yet the change is producing a "new person." As St. Paul expresses it: "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away; behold the new has come" (2 Co 5:!7). Conversion gives birth to a new life, hidden in Christ, which produces in the person childlike humility and a deep sense of joy, as well as increased freedom and maturity. In the awareness of his own salvation--the great things the Lord has done for him--the converted one is ready to become a witness to the reign of Christ's kingdom and to help others experience the peace and joy he has found in converting his whole heart to God. He echoes David's words: "I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you" (Ps 50:13). Thus ongoing conversion becomes the way in which the kingdom of God is estab-lished anew and the Spirit renews the face of the earth. It is wise to remember that even though there may be exceptions, the renewed spiritual life described in this portrait of the converted person takes a lifetime to become fully developed, even as a seed that is planted in the soil takes time to push up from the ground and develop into the full flower and fruit. Father Bernard Haring says: "Usually only the final yes to the loving will of God in death brings final maturity" (p. 219). Every human experience in life can be a new call of God's love, and every grateful response on the part of a religious can be an intensifying of the divine life within. Each successive conversion is only a new beginning, meant to be ongoing and to deepen the union with the soul's loving Bridegroom. In considering the essentials of religious life, would it not be wise, then, to include "ongoing conversion" as an important element of religious living? Does not the very fact that we must be constantly evaluating our lives and periodically updating and renewing the principles and constitutions we live by prove that such dynamic conversion and renewal are indeed of the essence of our vocation? Communal Discernment George. Schemel, S.J., and Sister Judith Roemer Father Schemel and Sister Judith are on the staff of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth; Church Road; Wernersville, PA 19565. With today's new awareness of group process, it is not surprising that there has been a renewed interest in communal discernment. Although for a long time historians and theologians have talked about communal discernment, it is ohly recently that groups have returned to a more formal use of this prac-tice. We have personally witnessed and facilitated several of these sessions each year for the past nine years. Although communal discernment is ancient in the church, the historical precedent for the articulated form to which we refer in this writing is the experience of St. Ignatius Loyola and his first companions in their delibera-tions about the founding of the Jesuit order. As a group they worked through questions of community, the need for a vow of obedience, the procedures for sending each other into apostolic works. Out of that experience, written ina little paper known as the Deliberation of the First Fathers, has come a procedure for communal discernment, along with some characteristics that distinguish it from other forms of decision-making. Perhaps most characteristic of this procedure is the insistence on separating the pro and con sides of a qu.estion at issue, requiring that each person prayerfully consider and speak to both. There is, however, more to communal discernment than this. Actually, communal discernment might have many forms. Once some important- elements are acknowledged and considered, many varieties of procedures become possible. Essentially, there are seven elements in com-munal discernment. In the paragraphs that follow, we are going to talk about each one. The seven essential elements of communal discernment are: 825 1126 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 1) An explicit attitude and atmosphere of faith 2) Prayer: before, during, after; for light, for purification 3) Interior freedom: poised spiritual liberty 4) Information: disseminated, assimilated 5) Separation into con and pro reasons 6) Attempt at consensus 7) Confirmation (congruence) a) Internal: joy and peace in the Holy Spirit b) How does the decision work out over a period of time? How is the decision accepted by legitimate authority? The first three elements should be habitual modes of mind and heart. They ought to be part of the group's life rather than something it quickly does on the morning of a decision. The next three elements belong to the more formal part of the discernment process. The last element, confirmation and congru-ence, is monitored in the group over weeks, months, a year, as the new decision is worked out and tested. 1. An Explicit Attitude and Atmosphere of Faith At the base of each communal discernment is a belief and growing aware-ness of our "name of grace," the unique way in which God calls to me indi-vidually and to us corporately. Discernment itself rests on the theological belief that God d~als personally and individually with each of us. Over the years, as this relationship has grown and been nourished, we have often become aware of those patterns and characteristics, those unique notes which characterize one's own personal relationship with God. This "first name of grace"--the unique way in which God deals with me--may seem a new idea at first; but at second glance we recognize that we have come to take it for granted in distinguishing some of our favorite saints: St. Therese of Lisieux and her "Little Way," or St. Francis of Assisi, "God's Little Poor Man," are readily distinguished from St. Robert Bellarmine, "the Church has not his like in learning," or St. Teresa of Avila, the first v~oman Doctor of the Church. in each of these persons, God was known in a unique set of circumstances. Their sanctity developed through this uniqueness. In working out their identity, vocation and mission, what was appropriate for one could not have been appropriate for another. For instance, Francis may well have begged and walked barefoot among the Umbrian hills,.forbidding his followers to ride horseback because it was a sign of nobility and ~wealth. Robert Bellarmine, on the other hand, had ser-vants, a coach and four, and a castle as a part of his being a cardinal. The choices of Francis would not have been appropriate for Robert, nor vice versa. Similarly Teresa of Avila dedicated herself to God in Carmel almost twenty years before she began "to get serious about her contemplation. Again in her case, the timings, the graces, the circumstances were simply different. Yet each was faithful to his or her inspirations. Each became a saint in his Communal Discernment own right. Just as it is important that an individual be aware of his "first name of grace," it is likewise vitally important that groups pay attention to their own unique calling as a group, their "last name of grace." Much was said after Vatican I1 about rediscovering the original grace or charism of the founder. Groups were encouraged to look at their own graces, patterns of call and apostolic works. Any group, be it family, diocese, reli-gious community, parish organization, has its own charism, its own "last name of grace." There is some common identity that focuses the energies of that group. It is much like a family with several children. For example, the distinction among Bob, Mary, Peter and Sharon is certainly observable; yet the fact that they all belong to the Parker family is also immediately apparent. This example highlights the distinction between first and last name of grace. In any communal discernment it is very important that the persons within a group be aware of their faith-reality, their first and last name of grace. The last name of grace, that special uniqueness that we share with each other as members of this particular community, is of especial importance during the iime of discernment. It is necessary that decisions which involve this group of people flow from their awareness of their own group's unique relationship with God. These awarenesses should be heightened at the time of decision so that all are in touch with this reality during the whole process of discernment. Notice, too, that we have said "in an atmosphere of faith." Communal discernment is not another group method along with Robert's rules, management by objec-tives, paternal or maternal guidance, or any other such possibilities. Discern-ment demands that we ask the further question: "What is God asking of me and my group in this concrete situation?" This is an important, feature of communal discernment because, in discernment, we are weighing and decid-ing among goods rather than choosing between good and evil. We are not asking how much money can we save, how much profit can we accumulate, where can we sacrifice now in order to get ahead later, we are asking quite simply: ."What does God want?" The word explicit is also important. There may have been a time when it was not as important as it is today to make faith explicit. "In the good, old days," when the community was close or the group came out of a well-knit parochial setting, there may have been a more common understanding of faith beliefs. In a religious community the way of dress, the customs, the order of the day all said something to everyone about what people believed. There was a time in the lives of many of us when we got out of bed at 5:20 a.m. because "the voice of God is in the sound of the bell"; we kissed the floor before saying the office because we were unworthy to proclaim God's praise; and we said our prayers in Latin so that we could be united with the universal Church. Today, though, I still will listen to God's voice; I am continually unworthy to offer his praise; and 1 am united to the universal Church. But I look different ~!211 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 and my life-style has changed. Unless I am more explicit about my faith values, most people will not know of the faith-drama that is going on within me. For that reason groups must voice for themselves their beliefs, and dis-tinctions they make between faith-absolutes and cultural relatives. Obviously, it is not possible to have this faith-awareness automatically no matter how knowledgeable a group might be nor how group-sensitized it has become. Granted one needs information and group-sensitivity, but the special kind of information and sensitivity needed here is brought about forcefully by the second element of communal discernment. 2. Prayer: Before, During, and After, for Light and Purification Discernment rests on the belief that the human organism is made rightly, and that God actually works perceptibly in one's affective consciousness. It also rests on the belief that evil is a reality. If the deciding body is to sort through and weigh its consolation (those things which bring about an increase of faith, hope, and love--thus urging one close to God) and its desolation (those things which foster a lack of faith, hope, and love--thus urging one away from God), it must do this searching fortified by prayer. No group is without its intimacy questions, its hostilities, its life-style inconsistencies, its power plays and territorial (physical or psychological) disputes. The group must sort out its anger, fear, resentment, ambition, stubbornness, insecurity-- all the negative sinfulness that plagues most of us twenty-four hours a day. The necessity of being in touch with God through all of this confrontation with sin and sinfulness is paramount. The authentic who-l-am--my first and last name of grace--owning its reality of sinfulness, must come before God to listen. If, for instance, on the day my two housekeepers.quit, and 1 am misunderstood by a department head, and the keys to the car are missing when I want to run away, I go before God and say, "Dear Father,,please bless your child and increase my love and devotion to you," I am more probably not being entirely authentic before God. It would likely be better for me to say, "Dear God, I amso angry. I hate my job. I hate housekeeping. It's your fault that l'm in this stupid situation. 1 know I'm being selfish and stubborn and I don't want to change. I am in great need of your help, so please will you heal me?" It is only in that attitude of dependence and honesty that 1 am ready to begin to listen. It is difficult to believe that a matter proposed for communal discernment would be so clear as not to provoke a number of positive and negative thoughts and feelings in a group. There is hardly a topic today that can be introduced for group consideration that does not evoke a host of rational and irrational, controlled and spontaneous reactions and responses. Without prayer, thee third element of discernment is also impossible. 3. Interior Freedom--Poised Spiritual Liberty In the Exercises, Ignatius spends a considerable amount of space on the topic of"indifference"---that attitude of mind which says, "Please God, I want Communal Discernment what you want. 1 will receive honor or scorn, richness or poverty, fame or hiddenness--whatever is for your honor and glory, whatever you want in my life, in whatever measure you want it." That attitude is not easy for an indi-vidual personally; much less is it easy for a group that is involved in a particu-lar work or prejudiced in a particular direction. If, for instance, 1 have just spent two years of my blood, sweat and tears establishing an individualized reading program in grades one to four, I will hardly be spontaneously indifferent or spiritually free for a discernment pro-cess aimed at deciding whether or not to close the primary grades in our school. Similarly, if I have just spent six years getting a B.A. and an M.A. in Latin, it will be very hard for me to be indifferent to a discernment process about dropping the classics from the curriculum. In any such circumstances, we have to be aware of these reluctances, prejudices and fears, prayerfully asking to be freed from their hold on us, at least during the time of discernment. As I mentioned before, these first three elements, faith-prayer-freedom, are ongoing attitudes that need to grow in individuals as well as in the group before decision-making can begin to share the qualities of authentic discern-ment. In one group, my partner and I animated a decision-making group and their husbands or wives over a four month period precisely on these first three elements. We set up a series of structured spiritual conversations in which the group participated in looking at its history together, articulating its gifts and liabilities, reinforcing its individual and qiturgical prayer commitments, and sharing all these with each other in preparation for a decision about its parish finances. At the end of that period of preparation, the group expediti.ously continued into the process and made decisions about a $ i,000,000 inheritance. Along with these habitual modes of living, such as prayer, faith and free-dom, but' before coming to the actual decision, there is a period of research and fact-finding. This leads us into our fourth element. 4. Information: Disseminated and Assimilated There are few, if any, direct pipelines from heaven; and thus there is no substitute for study, research, evaluation, and an awareness of the concrete facts about the subject up for decision. Included in such a list of facts are the feelings and values in the group which are associated with the situation. If, for example, I am on a studies committee that is trying to decide whether or not to send three persons off to get doctorates, we cannot just meet, expecting God to send us an answer. As a deciding group, we need to know the candidates' talents, their grades, their GREs, the requirements of the particular university, the attraction or repulsion each person feels for graduate studies, the finances involved, the transportation and housing available, the related job opportunities present in our system, the relevance of this type of education for our overall work, the spiritual needs of the persons involved, their mental and physical stamina and on and on. Not only must the data be 1131~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 accumulated, but all the members of the group must have studied the facts. It would be outrageous for me to arrive some place the night before a meeting and be expected to decide whether a novitiate should be moved to a new location if I am unfamiliar with the topic and have not had time to study the briefs. In that case 1 simply would have no human information to use as a reality check on my discernment. Once information has been gathered and studied, it is necessary to formu-late subject at issue in a simple statement. It is best not to try to address a multifacet6d issue all at once, or attempt to deal with a complicated formula. In other words, keep the issue simple. As a rule, the statement should be a simple, declarative sentence articulating the issue in a manner opposite to the status quo. For instance, if we are presently trying to concentrate our person-nel in a few hospitals (this is our status quo), then the statement of our issue might be, We would have g~reater apostolic effectiveness by scattering our per-sonnel in as many health services as possible. Or, in another example, if our present practice is to elect a president of the board every second year (status quo), our sentence might read, There will'be an election of the president of the board every fourth year. Our pra.ctice of writing the proposition in this way, opposite to the status quo, arose out of experience. Groups seem to be better able to look at their situation from a new perspective when the proposition is presented to them from the opposite situation. One of the big temptations in formulating a working simple sentence is to include too many issues at one time. A statement such as: Five generalate councilors should form an equal-power team in spiri-tuality, apostolate, temporalities, formation, and community life. is just too complex. That proposition contains too many items of concern: I. How many councilors are needed? 2. Should there be team government? 3. Do all the members have equal power? 4. Where does the authority reside? 5. What are the needed areas of responsibility? In such a case it would be better to work at the many issues one at a time~. Part of learning to live with communal discernment is learning to live with process. In other words, the group needs time and patience to work with its own real agenda and to be satisfied with the sometimes small, but clear truths that belong to it. In discernment it is necess~iry to work with clarities and to move as a group from one point to another without jumping ahead of the graces actually present. Once the issue is formulated in a simple, declarative statement we move on Communal Discernment to the fifth element. 5. Separation into Con and Pro Reasons The separation of the issue into the con and pro reasons is necessary so that each and all take a fair look at both sides of the question, and so that at no time-does the discernment become merely a discussion or a debate. In this procedure, where each is asked to address both sides of the issue, the timid are given an opportunity to speak; while the loquacious are challenged to be more focused. This procedure allows the many sides of the issue to be explored and articulated. When a group knows that everyone will be giving the cons and everyone will be giving the pros, there is less chance that any one person will be singled out and made to stand alone. In this way, the defensiveness of the group is reduced to a minimum. Debate is also precluded. Obviously, one does not go into a discernment knowing an answer and pressuring the other side into compliance. Rather, in communal discernment the group members are looked upon as partners in seeking the truth. In fact, should one be convinced of an answer before discernment, it would be foolish for that person to proceed through the process. The purpose of discernment: finding God's will, is already present. It doesn't make much sense to discern about something when one already knows what God wants. To go through those motions would merely mean to play games. When the group finally meets for the more formal part of the discernment, a simple procedure can be helpful. After a period of prayer, each person in a group of possibly six or eight persons is asked to state the reasons he or she sees against the proposition. At this point the person does not say that he or she is personally against the proposition, but only that he sees good reasons against it. Those reasons that he names are real reasons for him. He does not speak for anyone else, nor does he manufacture reasons. The group listens to all the reasons against, each one giving only one reason each time, until each person has given his entire list. There may be a need to go around in the circle of the group several times before this is accomplished. It is helpful for all of the members to write down the various reasons stated so that all have an accurate account of these reasons later on in the consensus effort. The group is then asked to begin a second period of prayer over the reasons for the proposition. At the end of this time, the group meets again and each is asked to state reasons for the proposition. The procedure is exactly the same as the first time. Each one gives one reason, and all stay until everyone has had a chance to give his entire list. They may have gone around the circle several times to accomplish this. Again, the reasons are written by each. For the sake of fairness, it is good to give equal time to con and pro even if this means sitting in silence together. The quiet time can be an opportunity to consider the new information learned from the group. The discipline in these first two sessions of giving con and pro is quite 1132 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 strict. Although one may certainly ask a question about a word that she has not heard or a phrase that was not clear, there is, on the other hand, no discussion or amplification. The assumption here is that the time for discus-sion and challenge has taken place in the weeks before communal discern-ment. At our present point .in the procedure, the emphasis is on listening and sorting out the facts and feelings without further dialogue. Sometimes people ask why.we look at the cons first. Historically~ that is what Ignatius and his friends did. Psychologically, there is n~uch evidence to support the fact that negative reasons are hard to hold in and quite naturally come to the forefront~ It seems best to lay them on the table early. I have, in fact, experimented with a group's giving pro reasons first. On one occasion two of us did a communal discernment with two hundred and fifty persons. We divided the large group into twenty-five small groups. Although all used the same issue, half the small groups worked on positive first, then negative. All groups came to the same general conclusion, but those doing positive reasons first experienced some stress in holding on to their negatives until last. At present, I consistently do the negative or con reasons at the beginning. After the group has looked carefully at con and pro reasons, there is a third period of prayer. At this time each person looks carefully at his or her own reasons and the additional reasons both against and for voiced in the group. He then comes up with his own personal decision about the matter. At a third group session all meet to state their decision and attempt to work towards consensus, the sixth element. 6. Consensus Seldom does it happen that all persons in a group are of one mind right away. It is a good idea at the beginning of this third session to make a quick poll of the group to see its initial stand. Lit us say that a group is discerning whether or not to close a retirement home. Seven say "yes" and three say "no" at the beginning of the first round. Perhaps the three who say "no" have certain legitimate fears about the closing: "Well, I can't agree unless all the residents are carefully placed in other homes." "I could agree if we find some other way of Christian witness in this same .neighborhood." "I can agree provided we wait two years until the new city home is finished next year." It may be, in listening carefully to these provided's,,:if's unless's, maybe's, that we.can seek areas of agreement. Here the dialogue with the group.is much freer. All are listening to hear what is really being said by the entire group. Sometimes, at this point, the original proposition needs to be restated or changed to include the new areas of agreement. Often there is a greater facility in reaching consensus once people are assured that their very real concern can be taken care of in some way that they did not previously imagine. One.of the biggest temptations at this point in the communal discernment is to try to "form consensus" instead of reading the one that is "actually in the group. At one time I saw a .group come to a standstill over whether three or Communal Discernment seven persons would be sent on an African project. On the surface, they thought there was no consensus, and continued to argue over "three" or "seven." However, in this case there definitely was a consensus: both sides agreed to three persons. That is clear. It's just that some wanted four more to go. On another occasion I participated in a group that was locked over the time of liturgy: 6:15 a.m. or 4:30 p.m. We went round and round giving very convincing reasons for both options. Again there appeared to be no consen-sus. Yet there was. All the group agreed the liturgy was a very important part of their life together. All wanted the liturgy at the prime time of day. The disagreement focused around what time was "prime." Once that detail was realized, and the group acknowledged its common faith convictions, the ten-sion was released and the detail compromised and brought to consensus. There are times, however, when consensus in the sense of "we all feel, think, believe together" cannot be reached. When there is no complete consen-sus, a group may have to be content with a vote or having the resident authority declare the practical steps to be followed in the group's life on this question. This is particularly true when time runs out or the urgency of the matter demands~decision. Ideally, one should take the unresolved consensus back to prayer and continue the process. However, there are times when this is just not feasible, and the group has to resort to the expediency of voting or having the consensus declared. Once the decision has been made and the consensus is reached, it is neces-sary to take that decision back to prayer and ask for confirmation. 7. Confirmation: Exterior and Interior Interiorly, when a good decision has been made, the group should expe-rience a peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. There is a rightness in its sense of being, a congruence with the first and last name of grace. This definition of discernment sums up the interior confirmation. "Discernment is an experien-tial knowledge of self in the congruence of the object of choice and one's fundamental religious orientation." If a good decision has been made, the persons within the group will experience these qualities during the following months and there will be a new graced energy to carry out the decision. Sometimes, a group experiences a "sigh of relief: that at last a decision has been made. 'Let's go home!'" That is hardly interior confirmation. Rather confirmation is a growing awareness over time about the rightness of the decision. The decision fits well with who I am personally and communally. It urges me to a greater service of God. Finally, I can return to my habitual form of prayer and find that 1 am not continuing to go around in circles or to debate about the issue, but rather 1 am growing in peace and joy before the Lord. This interior confirmation must be checked with exterior confirmation as well. Is this decision accepted by legitimate authority? Does time confirm the rightness of the decision? ~!~14 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 I once discerned that I should become a regular blood donor so that I could participate in some physical way in the human race. 1 appeared eagerly one morning at the bloodmobile only to be told that unfortunately no one under one hundred ten pounds was allowed to give blood. Another time 1 discerned with a group about going to a particular university. I had all the required finances, housing, and approval on my side of things, and then had the application rejected by the admittance board. In both cases 1 lacked the acceptance of legitimate authority. Sometimes it happens that a group conscientiously submits the results of a genuine discernment to legitimate authority which says, "no." The discern-ment lacks exterior confirmation. For the time being the group can be assured that it is not called to proceed in precisely the way it has decided. This does not mean the group was wrong, or the authority right. It just means they temporarily have no confirmation, and they need to plan carefully for the next step. Ideally, the legitimate authority in a given situation has been a part of the discerning group. It is also important for the group to be clear about whether the discernment it is undertaking is consultative (the group acting as advisor) or deliberative (the group actually being the deciding body). Such distinctions made before the time and energy of the group has been devoted to the process will eliminate strain and misunderstanding later on. Lastly, the practicalities of life add their own kind of confirmation by answering the question, "How does it work over a period of time?" A group may have discerned to take on extra sick calls or catechetical duties, only to find later on that their regular work is being neglected, there is less time for prayer, or they are becoming unduly tired and crabby. All these signs of disharmony suggest that they take another look at their decision. If we set up a soup kitchen, and six months later not too many come for soup, we can rightly assume that the apostolic venture needs to be reevaluated; the apos-tolic possibility we once saw doesn't seem relevant any longer. Summary In summary then, before coming to discernment, a group needs three viable attitudes: !) faith --an awareness of God's acting in my life --an awareness of my own name of grace --an awareness of the group's name of grace 2) prayer --an abiding sensitivity to the movements of.consolation and desolation --a realization of personal and corporate sinfulness --a willingness to face our hang-ups honestly 3) freedom--a willingness to be responsive to whatever God is asking --an indifference towards the options of good that are placed Communal Discernment before us --a desire to move in the fullness of our reality With these attitudes and awarenesses at one's fingertips, we then move into the more formal aspect of communal discernment. 4) Studying the issue: formulating the question in a simple manner. 5) Separating the reasons into cons and pros and being willing to look carefully at both sides of the issue. 6) Attempting consensus and seeking areas of agreement. Finally, as we come to our decision and begin to carry it out, we monitor ourselves for the next weeks, months, year. 7) Experiencing confirmation both interiorly in peace and joy in the Holy Spirit, in congruence, and appropriate indifference; and exteriorly through the reality check of time and acceptance by legitimate authority. With these seven elements it is hoped that a group can come to a decision that represents God's will for it. Certainly if the group has been faithful to the various elements, not only will its decision be well-grounded but also the lives .together of its members as part of the Christian community will have deep-ened. Within the process they will have experienced trust, faith, sinfulness and forgiveness. In a very real way they have participated in the life, death, and resurrection of the Lord by sharing the work of seeking the truth, facing their sinfulness, and participating in the forgiveness and love necessary to come to consensus. Certainly, this method of proceeding is consistent with who they are~ More importantly, they have allowed the means of their decision-making to enter into their purpose for being together. Just as we assume that the end does not justify the means, in discernment spirituality we go one step further to say that the means enters into the end. All parts of the process are important and must be consistent with the truth and love which a discerning group is called to seek. Communal discernment provides that opportunity more than other decision-making methods. There is no one way of conducting a communal discernment. As long as the seven elements are observed, the variations can be many. A group might prepare and study an issue for several months and then come together for a day, allowing forty-five minutes for each part of the prayer, cons and pros, while leaving the rest of the day for consensus. Or, if time is short, a group may look at cons during one meeting, pros at a second, and consensus at a third. Less complicated situations or smaller groups might use a shorter time. Sometimes people ask how a group knows what issues to use for discern-ment. Usually, as any group stays together, there are any number of issues that arise and need to be settled. Communal discernment is best used on those issues which touch the common vocation. Lesser issues can be handled admin-istratively. They do not need the amount of time and effort that is required of an entire group in communal discernment. 1~36 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 In conclusion, in our own day we have come to realize more and more that it takes the entire community to hear the infinitely rich word of God. No one person has ears big enough to do this on his own. Most of us also accept committee meetings, team efforts, total staff participation, and second opin-ions as a normal part of life. The age of the loner or even of the enlightened amateur is waning. As our awareness of life's richness and complexities increases, we are encouraged to look beyond our personal wisdom to a wider group of conscientious people who will be with us in our decision-making. No one wants the burden of closing a school, opening a new department, with-drawing a subsidy, initiating a new field of research completely alone. More and more we are relying on a gathering of friends, experts, or colleagues to decide corporately what is the best way to go. Most of us, too, have experienced a certain frustration with groups and meetings. Projections and power struggles, contracts and silences that we may have learned to handle and work with on a more individual, personal level, often become very complex in a group. Our current skills do not always seem to work. The group becomes a hindrance rather than a help for our endeavors. On the brighter side, most of us learn quite early that "none of us is as smart as all of us." In our labored ignorance in seeking for truth we welcome as much help as we can get. Theologically, we may have been alerted to the awesome interchange that takes place between God and humankind. The Lord has visited his creatures, and we are a part of that magnificent inter-change. Communal discernment offers us a way of participating in this mystery. At the close of the Deliberations, the author has the following remarks that might well be our goal as well as our prayer during communal discernment. By the feast of St. John, all our business was pleasantly concluded in the spirit of perfect harmony. But it was only by first engaging in prolonged vigils and prayers, with much expenditure of physical and mental energy that we resolved these problems and brought them to this happy conclusion. A Note on Small Beginnings in The Spiritual Exercises Nancy M. Malone, O.S.U. Sister Nancy has been enjoying a "spiritual sabbatical" after a period of service as director of a retreat center and a regional director of the National Institute for Campus Ministries (NICM). She is residing at the Ursuline Convent of St. Angela; 265 East 162nd St.: Bronx, NY 10451. Talking about one's Thirty Day Retreat can, I suppose, be like talking about one's operation, and probably for the same reasons. It is all so intensely meaningful and interesting to the person who has undergone it as to be endlessly fascinating--to her. This article is not about my retreat in the sense of recounting those profound and personal things that happened to me during it. It is about several devices embedded in the text of The Spiritual Exercises which I believe contain one of Ignatius' much-praised psychological insights. The insight is displayed in the various and canny ways that Ignatius has. us use to bring ourselves from "a distance" to "closer," or from "outside" to "inside" in respect tothe scene or person(s) we are contemplating, or, in sohae cases, from "outside" to "inside" ourselves. Underlying the devices is what might be called the "vestibule principle," the need, recognized by Ignatius, among others, that scattered and externalized human beings have to go through an "anteroom" before entering into the "Holy of Holies." Put another way; Ignatius' insight has to do with ways of our becoming "present." I came upon this insight in the course of my Thirty Day Retreat at Loyola House in Guelph, Canada. I used the text of The Exercises itself as translated by Elder Muilan, S.J. Having been warned about Ignatius' less than elegant style and less than contemporary theology and imagery, I nonetheless approached the text on the assumption that the man had chosen his words very carefully and for a purpose. This assumption of intentional precision paid off. 837 11311 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 Take, for instance, the "second prelude" (the composition of place) in all of the exemplary contemplations that Ignatius lays out in the Second and Third Weeks. On the Incarnation: "Here it will be to see the great capacity and circuit of the world, in which are so many and such different people; then likewise, in particular, the house and rooms of Our Lady in the city of Naza-reth, in the Province of Galilee." On the Nativity: "It will be here to see with the sight of the imagination the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem; consid-ering the length and the breadth .'.; likewise looking at the place or cave of the Nativity, how large, how small . " On the Passion: "It will be here to consider the road from Bethany to Jerusalem, whether broad, whether narrow .; likewise the place of the Supper, whether large, whether small . "And again on the Passion: "It will be here to consider the road from Mount Sion to the Valley of Josaphat, and likewise the Garden, whether wide, whether large. . . ." (Notice, by the way, that following his own advice to directors in the "second annotation," Ignatius doesn't paint the picture for us; he simply lays out categories for our imaginations to play with.) Wh'y all this attention to "circuits" and "roads"?. Much has been made in preached retreats I've attended of the difficulties that Mary and Joseph expe-rienced in the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem. Now if such is the point of so composing that place, it doesn't apply to the other composition mentioned here. But I don't think it is the point. 1 think the point is not content but process. Ignatius knew that something happens inside us when we not only imaginatively put ourselves in a place, but actually imagine ourselves getting there. We are, somehow, more there than if we had begun simply by imagining ourselves there in the first place. In the process of coming, we become present. Ignatius follows a similar process in the three points that he gives us for the contemplations of the Second and Third Weeks: "to see the persons . " "to hear what they are talking about., . to look at what they are doing . " Most people I have asked assume that Ignatius simply wants us to see, hear and understand what is going on in every scene, that it was only the exigencies of getting this down on paper that dictated his separating the three operations into "three points." If you think about it for a minute, though, he could have found an easier way of doing this, if he wanted to. But perhaps he didn't.I Perhaps Ignatius was again bringing us "closer from a distance," this time from outer to inner space. There is a certain kind of knowledge that we acquire simply by observing people across the proverbial crowded room. It ~The separation of the three operations" is particularly marked in the contemplation on the Incarnation where one might have expected Ignatius to direct us to see, hear and look at the persons.on the face of the earth, and then the Three Divine Persons, and then our Lady. Instead, he so constructs the points that he groups the persons together under the separate operations. On the other hand, as an indication that you can't push this thesis too far. he, for some reason not clear to me, changes to the wording of the Second Point in the contemplation on the Nativity from his usual "to hear" to "look, mark and contemplate what they are saying." ¯ Small Beginnings / 839 may be that we gaze more intently when it is only through that one sense that we receive data. It may be that there is in all of us a tendency towards a certain voyeurism, the unobserved observer looking at those who reveal themselves precisely because they don't know that they are being observed. At any rate, when we move close enough also to hear what is being said, we are also moving closer to inner space. We learn something more and different about people than what we learn by merely watching them. It is not only the words that we listen to; it is the quality and tone of voice, inflection, and phrasing. And all of these things are revelatory of the self within; all of them deal "out that being indoors each one dwells," as Hopkins says. But it is in the third point that we arrive at the heart of the matter, as it were. Ignatius tells us to "look at what they are doing," and the way he explicates that in every case makes it clear that what he is after is not another act of imaginative seeing, but an understanding, an entering into the inten-tions, the affections--the hearts--of those we are contemplating: "the Divine Persons . . . working out the most Holy Incarnation . . .; Our Lady . . . humbling herself and giving thanks to the Divine Majesty . . ."; Our Lord being born, "that He may die on the Cross; and all this for me." We have been led, if we have followed the process, from sense knowledge to heart knowl-edge, from outer distance to inner closeness. Consider again Ignatius' meditation on Hell, which can and does present formidable difficulties to present-day directors and retreatants. Many think it more effective to meditate on Hell by considering interior states such as alienation, despair, loneliness and hatred, rather than "great fires, wailings, howlings, smoke, sulphur, dregs, etc." Well, in the first place, I think that lgnatius is on sounder ground, theologically and anthropologically, in not passing over the part played by our body in reaping the bitter fruits of sin that it has helped to sow. And though he doesn't psychologize our suffering too much--too soon, he does bring us inside ourselves in an astute way, and he does this through our bodies. We are directed, it is true, to see the fire, to hear the cries and blasphemies, to smell the putrid things. But when it comes to the sense of taste, we are told to taste, not rotten food or rancid drink, but ourselves: "bitter things, like tears, sadness, and the worm of conscience." In this case, we move from outer to inner through that sense which is, in a way, most inside us. Finally, there is that intriguing little device that we are counseled to use by the Third Addition. "A step or two before the place where I have to con-template or meditate, l will put myself standing for the space of an Our Father . " So often we no more plunk ourselves into our prayer chair than we plunk ourselves also into the cave at Bethlehem, or into the heart of the Trinity. No, at the very outset of prayer, Ignatius has us bring ourselves, physically and spiritually, through a tiny vestibule, no bigger than "a step or two away" or "the space of an Our Father." Now, what does all of this have to say, apart from the fact that, in my 1141~ / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 experience, these devices work? Having said it all, I want to emend one of my original statements. Ignatius' insight is profound, but it is not strictly and merely "psychological." The insight underlying all of these devices has to do not just with the workings of our psyches, but more precisely with the work-ings of body and soul on each other, more precisely, with the organic unity of the human person. On another level, presuming that I am right about what is going on in these instances, that Ignatius is directing us to follow a carefully constructed process, these reflections also say something about the value of using his text as it is. And they suggest that, when The Exercises are accommodated, some explicit attention ought to be given to constructing a process designed to achieve the same results. The Charism of Poverty Robert Faricy, S.J. Father Faricy also wrote "By His Wounds," which appeared in the issue of May, 1979, as well as other articles. He continues to teach at the Gregorian University; Piazza della Pilotta. 4; 00187 Roma, Italy. Poverty can be considered as a vow, as an interior psychological state, or as a gift. Religious poverty, at the most profound level, is a charism; it is a special gift from the Lord before it can be a response to the Lord's love--because it is precisely the gift, the charism, of poverty that empowers me to respond to the Lord's love by living my commitment to him and to be poor for him. Poor With Jesus Poor The gospel text about the rich young man refers to the counsel of poverty and stands as the classically cited passage concerning the vow of poverty. "Jesus said to him: 'If ~,ou would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me'" (Mt 19:21). This fits with Jesus~ general teaching on poverty as a Christian value: "Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust consume and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven . For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also" (Mt 6:19-20). "It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 19:24). "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field which someone has found; he hides it, and goes off happy, and sells everything he owns and buys that field" (Mt ! 3:44). The most important words in Jesus' invitation to the rich young man are, "Come, follow me," and they should be understood in the context of Jesus' 841 1142 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 teaching on discipleship: "If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it" (Mr 16:24-25). The Christian virtue of poverty, then, consists of renouncing self, taking up the cross, and following Jesus. But there is, beyond the general call to a certain poverty, at least interior, and to the cross, a further call, a call to go further and to give more. This call Jesus addressed to the rich young man. Like all Jesus' invitations, it calls, and it empowers to respond. The power to answer the call to a radical poverty, to a special following of Jesus on the way of the cross, is the charism of poverty. Not all Christians are called to this kind of poverty, to this radical way of being poor with Jesus poor. But some are. And the power to live out the answer to that call is the charism of poverty. As a charism, poverty enables me to serve the Lord with a special freedom. I am free to serve him in an apostolate that earns a good salary, or a small one, or that earns nothing at all. Money and material advantages do not determine my choices in serving the Lord. And so the charism of poverty "builds up the body of Christ" i:n that it frees me more for service. And, further, it relates me in a particular way to Jesus, making me his disciple in chosen radical poverty, in the poverty of the cross. When Jesus dies on Calvary, he has nothing. Not only does he die without any material possessions at all, but he dies stripped of all honor, of all dignity, of all respect. He dies, not like a common criminal, but more shamefully, like an uncommon criminal; he dies, not just rejected by his own people, but outside the framework of civilized society, on a hill outside the gate~ outside the city, cut off from human society. Subjected to extensive and horribly severe torture, both physical and psy-chological, he finally dies without composure, without a vestige 'of human dignity, feeling utterly abandoned even by God and crying out to God, "Why have you abandoned me?" The gospel accounts of Jesus' death are strikingly laconic. The Church had no crucifixes for hundreds of years, until the shock could be assimilated; the shock of the terribleness of Jesus' death. So too, the charism of poverty takes one beyond just material poverty freely chosen, lived out voluntarily. The charism of poverty associates one intimately with Jestis in his passion and death, crucifying one to the world and the world to him (see Ga 6:14). "1 have been crucified with Christ" (Ga 2:19). It frees me from ambition for honors, for applause, for attention from others. The charism of poverty acts as an antidote for that malady thai has beset professionally religious people since the scribes and the pharisees and before: the need for na'rcissistic feedback. ~ The charism of poverty empowers me to be poor with Jesus poor, poor materially and poor interiorly, stripped of everything, for love of Jesus who calls me. Religious poverty is not, then, some kind of stoical pragmatism, a streamlining for service. It does free me for service. But beyond that, and more The Charism of Poverty / 1143 importantly, it relates me in love to Jesus who laid down his life for me. Poverty and Liberation , One of the fruitful insights of the Latin American theology of liberation is that religious poverty frees me to become one with those who live in oppres-sive poverty; it enables me to enter into solidarity with the downtrodden, the suffering, the poor, the marginal people who, with Jesus, are "outside the city," outside respectable human society. 1 can see Jesus in them, the least of his brothers and sisters. And, united intimately in love with Jesus, I enter into a fraternal solidarity with the most oppressed, the poorest, the most marginal of his brothers and sisters. I find Jesus most clearly and distinctly in the most needy--in the retarded, in prisoners, in the .very ill--whether physically or mentally or both, in the outcasts and the severely troubled and poorest of the poor. Not that entering into solidarity with those who have nothing is my motive for living poverty. The motive is love. The motive is Jesus, who calls me in love to respond to his love for me. This loving response, made in the power of his Spirit, leads me to live out religious poverty; and it leads me to a preference for the poor. The gospel preference for the poor stands at the hea'rt of Jesus' teaching; it runs through the Acts of the Apostles and Paul's letters; and it holds the thematic center of the letter of James. In his public life Jesus goes to the oppressed, eats with whores and publicans, heals the sick, raises up those who are brought low. This gospel preference for the poor is, always, an apostolic priority. To be poor with Jesus mear~s to be poor with the least of his brothers and sisters so as to participate in Jesus' mission of redemption, a mission he always understood as applying to this life as well as to the next. "He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim freedom to captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set free the downtrodden . " (Lk 4:18). The charism of poverty empowers me to go to Jesus in the poor and~the needy and the oppressed, because I can give up everything for him,. because lam free to love him and' to serve him in the downtrodden, the outcasts, the marginal people. This freedom that the charism of poverty gives me is, firsi of all and above all, an interior freedom. It takes the form of a radical and thoroughgoing dependence on God, a dependence that looks to the Lord for salvation, for liberation from present difficulties both for myself and for those whom the Lord has called me to serve. The theology of liberation has not always recognized the primacy of pov-erty of spirit, of that interior freedom that has the shape of a total dependence on the Lord. God does save his people, bring them out of bondage, i'edeem them. But this deliverance and this redemption begin, on the part of the people, with crying out to the Lord, with a desperate recourse to the only one who can truly save. The Old Testament event of the Exodus dominates Israel's theology as a 8411 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1981 category of salvation. God frees his people, now and always, just as he did then. Deliverance from Egyptian bondage begins, not with political commit-ment, nor with education, nor with the solidarity of the oppressed, but with the interior poverty that cries out to the Lord. The Bible's oldest passage, directions and a prayer for the temple offering of the first fruits of the harvest, goes like this: The priest shall take the basket from your hand, and set it down before the altar of the Lord your God. And you shall make response before the Lord your God, saying, "A wandering Aramean was my father: and he went down into Egypt and sojourned the~e, few in number: and there he became a nation, great, mighty, and populous. And the Egyptians treated us harshly and afflicted us, and laid upon us harsh bondage. "Th~n we cried out to the Lord the God of our fathers, and the Lord heard our voice, and saw our afflictior~, our toil, our oppression. And the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm, with great terror, with signs and wonders; and he brought us into this place and gave us this land, a land flowing with milk and honey. And behold, now I bring the first of the fruit of the ground which you, O Lord, have given me" (Dr 26:4-1 I). The New Testament event-category that is analogous to the Exodus, and is its fulfillment, is the death and resurrection of Jesus. Jesus' deliverance from the powers of darkness is his passage from death to risen life. This passage has its beginning in his crying out to the Father, "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?'~ (Mt 27:46). Jesus uses the opening line of Psalm Twenty-two. as a prayer to express his feeling of being abandoned by the Father, as a prayer of lamentation, an expression of profound poverty, of radical depen-dence on the Father. As a lament, Jesus' prayer expresses not only his own feeling of being abandoned, but also--implicitly--his abandonment into the hands of the Father. Jesus' prayer of crying out to the Lord leads directly to his death--Matthew's words are carefully chosen, Jesus "yielded up his spirit" to the Father, and in Luke's account Jesus cries in a loud voice, "Father, into your hands 1 commend my spirit." This abandonment into the Father's hands is the essence of interior pov-erty. The charism of religious poverty gives me the power to surrender to God, to say "yes" to the Father with Jesus, and in and through him. Jesus' whole life finds its summation and meaning in his death on the cross, because his death, like his life, was a surrender, a "yes" to the Father. "Jesus Christ . . . was not Yes and No; in him it is always Yes. For all the promises of God find their Yes in him. That is why we say the Amen through him, to the glory of God" (2 Co i:19-20). Prayer for an Increase, of the Charism of Poverty We can pray for a new outpouring of the charism of religious poverty: Lord Jesus, I ask you for a new fullness of the charism of poverty. I ask you to reveal to me now my inordinate attachments, my holding on to things or to persons, my .~'richness" that keeps me from saying a more comp'lete Yes The Charism of Poverty to you. I surrender to you my excessive search for material comforts, and what-ever material goods I have that I do not really need to serve you. I surrender to you my excessive need for attention, for acclaim and applause, for narcissistic feedback from others; I surrender all my selfish ambitions, my search for honors, my vainglory and my pride. I surrender to you my possessiveness of those whom I love; teach me to love (mention the names of any person or persons that you tend to be attached to in a selfish or possessive way)freely, leaving others free; teach me to love with an open hand. I renounce the possessiveness in my love for others; teach me to love more and better. And l ask you now for new graces, for new power to live for you, for a new outpouring of the charism of religious poverty. Give me the interior poverty that depends on you and not on the world's acceptance. You say to me now, "lf the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you; if you were of the world, the world would love its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I spoke to you: a servant is not greater than his master" (Jn 15:18-20). Teach me, Lord, to enter by the narrow gate that leads to life (Mr 7:13-14). You are that gate, Lord; let me follow you, taking up my cross. For ybu alone, Lord, are my portion. I have no inheritance, for you are my inheritance; I want no possessions, for you are my possession (Ezk 44:28). Amen. The Forgiving What has been burned is burned, but ashes stir to unseen winds and whirlpool into life raised higher than the flames that birthed them to seed the clouds that grow the tender rains. Sister Linda Karas, RSM Mercy Consultation Center P.O. Box 370 Dallas, PA 18612 The Other Side of Humility: Its Clarity and Strength Frederick G. McLeod, S.J. Father McLeod is an associate professor of the Department of Theological Studies at St. Louis University. He resides at 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis. MO 63108. Christian tradition,] particula, rly in its Scriptures and spiritual writings, has set humility on a prominent pedestal. In fact, it extols humility as the foremost of all the moral virtues, even on a par with charity. It proclaims humility as the weapon with which to parry and fend off the deadly enemy of humanity-- pride. It also trumpets humility as the way that those who are on the last rung of life can mount to the top. Yet, it is a virtue whose meaning and importance are still widely misunderstood. If queried, few today, I suspect, would be able to state accurately what it is, and why it is so central to the Christian message and life. Current Views Humility is not a popular'virtue among our contemporaries. For some, it still evokes unease, if not profoundly negative feelings. In the past, when pride was targeted as the number-one enemy, writers and preachers exhorted us to take up the club of humility to beat down our pride. Unfortunately, in the process many also clubbed down healthy self-love--an experience that still rankles in some. ~This tradition is amply documented in the articles on Humility in the Dictionnaire de Spiritual-itb. Vll, 1136-87. and in The New Catholic Encyclopedia, Vll. 234-36. For a popular but some-what dated book on this subject, see Nivard Kinsella. O.C.S.O. Unprofitable Servants (Westminster: Newman Press. 1960). 846 The Other Side of Humility / 1147 Then, too, pithy statements and striking examples from the lives of such spiritual giants as Saints Paul,2 Benedict3 and Francis of Assisi4 were hailed-- often out of context--as offering the ideal attitude that ought to govern our relationships with others. We were urged to consider ourselves as the worst of all sinners and everyone else better than ourselves. To live thus--according to this advice--is to be humble! While respecting the sincerity of the saints and reluctant to question their spiritual wisdom, many today simply confess their Confusion. They do not see how one, especially a saint of the magnitude of Paul or Benedict or Francis, can truthfully claim to be the worst of all sinners. Moreover, to affirm that all others are better than ourselves in all circumstances is patent nonsense. But what is worse, some who have tried in the past to live out such humility are still,~struggling with lingering feelings of an inferiority complex, ls this the lowliness that humility seeks to instill and achieve? in the past, too, humility was the favorite virtue extolled by authority. Though Christ's remarks on humility seem to have been. directed mainly to those with power and authority, hu