Suchergebnisse

Issue 60.6 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; ° R-eview for Re!igio~s b~lps people re~pon~ and befaithful to.God's, universal ~ail to holiness' ' " by making; available tO them the sl~irituai legades - " tb~t flow-~om the, charisms of Catbolicconsecrated life~ Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ° Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ° Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address chafiges to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2001 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the pers6nal 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. vi,ew for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe TracT Gramm Judy Sharp James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ NOVEMBER DECEMBER 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 6 contents 566 a wider mission The Interreligious World: A Nun's Experience There Mary C. Boys SNJM probes aspects of religious life in light of the Catholic-Jewish relationship and provides a testimony that emboldens her continued commitment to this lifeform. 581 'Unsuspected Mission A. Paul Dominic SJ identifies the mission of spiritual conversation as the basic apostolic work of Jesus and of all who are his followers. 594 spiritual directions On the Seventh Day God Rested Marie Beha OSC suggests ways of understanding and making more creative use of Sabbaths in our life. 602 Where Your Heart Is Donald Macdonald SMM sees in Jesus' journey to Jerusalem (in Luke) an ardor and constancy that our bonding with him through Sc~ipture's strong and burning words can accomplish also in us. Review for Religious evaluations 614 628 Criteria for Change: Women's Ministering to the Body of Christ Marie Brinkman SCL looks at the lives lived by sisters in the past as the foundation that must validate today's discernment criteria for the needed changes. Missionary or Mercenary Patrick Sean Moffett CFC offers a perspective on changes in membership, changes in collaboration, and changes in corporate commitment in order to stimulate discussion on community apostolates. 640 647 divine initiatives What Only God Can Make Ann Marie Paul SCC imaginatively ponders religious community pictured as a tree, with the trunk representing chastity, the branches poverty, and the leaves obedience. God's Will: Where Desires Commingle Denis Donoghue SJ ruminates on the seeking out of God's will and illustrates some principles of discernment in a personal'example. departments . 564 Prisms 655 Canonical Counsel: Readmission to a Religious Institute 661 Book Reviews 667 Indexes to Volume 60 November-Dece~nber 2001 prisms All of us have to be born and have to die. These "have to's" sound like some activity we must do, when both are rather something that happens to us. "Being born" and "being dying" are the leveling events that bookend all human life. What fills the space in between seems to spell out nothing but all the hills and valleys, rolling vineyards and desert wastelands, that represent the inequalities of human living. Some people are born into wealth, and they will never know want. Others are only fortunate enough at birth to have a mother healthy enough to give them mother's milk, but they will go through life malnour-ished and disease-prone. Some are born highly gifted and fail ever to develop their talents. Others struggle through life with a minimum of human endowments, but successfully act with a perennial zest. Some will spend their life in steel and glass skyscrapers, and others will know only the simplest of grass or plywood huts. Some will travel the world; others will know only their village. Except for "being born" and "being dying," we human beings seem to spend lifetimes of greatly unequal value. There seems to be no level playing field for all people to encounter each other on. God engages the inequalities of human life in the incarnation and birth of his Son. In the familiar hymn quoted in St. Paul's letter to the Philippians, our atti-tude must be "that of Christ: Though he was in the form of God, he did not deem equality with God something to be grasped at. Rather, he emptied himself and took the form of a slave, being born in the likeness of men. He was known to be of human estate, and it was thus that he humbled himself, obediendy accepting even death, death on a cross" (Ph 2: 5-9). Paul reflects that God takes on a true inequality. In becoming human, Christ goes from the fullness of divin- Review for Religious i'ty to the emptiness of humanity. Theologically, humanity is empty because everything that each of us has is gift, as Jesus reminds us in saying that all his words and his works are not his, but come from the Father. So in faith we know an inequality that is real between God and the human. But, then, in God's becoming human in Jesus, we come to know God's definitive action in breaking down all the appearances of inequality that divide us humans. Jesus entered into the leveling experience of all humans by "being born" and by "being dying." Through all the in-between time, he lived his life as an example and .taught by word and para-ble that the leveling process permeated the whole of human living. While friendly with rich and poor alike, with learned and unlearned, Jesus seems to violate our sense of leveling by his iden-tifying with the poor, with servants and slaves, with the marginal-ized. He reaches out to them in his care; he tells stories about them for our instruction. Jesus asks us to be like him--one who serves. In the Last Supper washing of the feet, Jesus stresses that he has given us an example. Jesus transfigures the language and meaning of slavery, ser-vice, and ministry. All these words now describe valued human interaction from a divine perspective. We all are meant to be helpers--in Scripture, sometimes called slaves, sometimes servants, sometimes minis-ters-- to one another in life. Helpers and those being helped are on the same level. One is not superior as a human being in either being the helper or minister or being the one being helped or ministered to. Jesus gave us an unforgettable image by answering "Who is my neighbor?" with the parable of the Good Samaritan. Th~ second half of the one commandment stresses that we love our neighbor as ourselves. Our love goes out to whomever, persons always on a level no different from ourselves. We neither reach down in helping nor reach up; we only reach across. By entering into our human level, God broke through all the specious levels that seem to divide humankind. By our entering into the divine experience of Jesus, we see and act as sons and daughters of a heav-enly Father. Every Christmas, we challenge ourselves anew about the Christian leveling of human life. By our faith we live life on the same level--the level has been forever divinely clarified because of the birth of Jesus. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 2001 a wider mission MARY C. BOYS The Interreligious World: A Nun's Experience There A great value of ecumenical and interreligious exchange is that it sheds light on one's own tradition. Seeing oneself through the eyes of others expands one's reflections, provokes absorbing questions, and clarifies values and modes of thought. While my roots in the religiously variegated Pacific Northwest mean I have long been in Protestant company, and my interest in Judaism dates back to my college years, it was only upon moving to New York City seven years ago that I staked my tent on ecumenical and inte~religious terrain. Teaching at the historically Protestant Union Theological Seminary and working in Christian-Jewish dialogue beyond Union's quadrangle afford new understandings not only of the religiously "other," but of Catholicism as well. And, by providing a flesh viewpoint on religious life, my situation exercises a profound personal effect) SandraSchneiders has observed that women religious seem able to work beyond the boundaries of Christianity while remaining deeply affiliated with it; we Mary C. Boys SNJM is the Skinner and McAlpin Professor of Practical Theology at Union Theological Seminary in New York City and the author of Has God Only One Blessing? Judaism as a Source of Christian Self-Understanding. Her address is Union Theological Seminary; 3041 Broadway; New York, N.Y. 10027. Review for Religious "are at once very deeply involved in institutional Catholicism and often widely and deeply involved in the experiences of spirituality beyond its denominational boundaries.''2 Yet, in exploring the topic of religious life and interreligious dialogue, she turns her gaze more to the East, to dialogue among monastics. By exploring the implications of interaction with Jews and Judaism, I hope to highlight a distinctive interreligious conversation that Schneiders touches on only tangentially, and thereby to add another layer to, and engage in occasional argument with, her outstanding scholarly study. Probing religious life, a topic on which I have never published, in light of the Catholic-Jewish relationship, on which I have published, challenges me to hold together two vital parts of my life. This essay, then, revolving around four "scenes," is deeply per-sonal, but I hope not solipsistic, for I intend it as a stimulus for conversation. I. London, June 2000, a Catholic-Jewish conference on "The Theology of Partnership." This conference involved participants principally from the United Kingdom and the United States, along with a few European and Israeli scholars and a Vatican delegation. Although the large number of participants hindered the flow of discussion, our exchange was for the most part candid and stimulating. In the latter part of the conference, one of the Catholics, a priest, launched into a romanticized mini-sermon about Mary as virgin and mother. Its traditionalist theology and tangential relation to the point under discussion elicited considerable skepticism, if one might judge by the body language of rolled eyes and heads held in hands. Many sought recognition by the chair to respond (including all the Catholic women), but I have less recollection of the rejoinders than I do of the comment by the woman next to me. A Reform rabbi from the United Kingdom, she wrote furiously on her notepad: "Mary. Virgin. Why don't they talk about real women?" Liminal. Marginal. Such terms, used by Schneiders (among others) to describe religious life strike a chord. Insofar as this lifeform has a prophetic character rather than a hierarchical status, religious life is indeed lived on the "thresholds where realities meet, dash, and merge.''3 Nonetheless, such terms are sometimes far too academic to describe moments of feeling just how odd and anomalous we religious are. While on one level I suspect I November-December 2001 Boy~ * The lnterreli¢ous Worm To be with Jews as a member of a religious congregation is to experience our liminality, our oddness, on a regular basis. understand what my table companion was objecting to, the starkness of her opposition of "virgin" and "real women" hit hard. In reflecting later, I realize I never use terminology about virginity to describe celibacy; not only does it connote a naive innocence, but it speaks only to the dimension of abstention from genital sexual intimacy. Without question, this self-chosen abstention---or, better, an abstention that is part of our being called to a distinctive way of life--has its ascetic aspects. Nevertheless, the term virginity seems to suggest that we have repressed our sexuality, thereby ceasing to be "real" women. Whether or not the Jungian-grounded theory of the "virgin archetype" or a similar perspective can overcome the cultural stereotypes of virginity is a real question, but this dimension of Finding the Treasure offers a compelling description of the inner autonomy celibacy can offer. In the halls of Union, being a nun (in the imprecise use of the term) is sometimes seen as a "weird" way of life. Yet consecrated celibacy is not unknown in Protestantism. Students of Hinduism and Buddhism, moreover, know about celibacy in those traditions. It, is, however, completely uncharacteristic of rabbinic Judaism, which places intense emphasis on family life and home-based ritual.4 So to be with Jews as a member of a religious congregation is to experience our liminality, our oddness, on a regular basis. While this experience can be jarring, as it was at that conference June 2000, in general it has increased my sensitivity to the peculiarities of religious life, a sensitivity that can be dulled by remaining in the more homogeneous company of one's religious congregation.5 At the same time, it makes the God question more prominent. Jews typically are more reticent in speaking about God, a healthy corrective to the overfamiliarity with which many Christians ~peak about the Holy One.6 The presence, however, of persons for whom the "God quest" is the principal explanation for their liminal way of life raises questions, at least implicitly, about the divine-human relationship. Perhaps, to balance the incident with which I began this section, I should report that recently, at the conclusion of a Review for Religious weekend spent as a scholar-in-residence at a synagogue, an elderly man came up to thank me. His eyes welling with tears, he said, "You answered God's call many years ago, and now you are able to be among us." II. November 2000, a gathering of Holocaust survivors in the New York metropolitan area. While giving a series of lectures in a Catholic parish on New York's East Side the previous September, I met Lewis Weinstein, a businessman who had just published a novel on the Spanish Inquisition, The Heretic. A few weeks later he phoned to ask if I would share the podium with him at an event sponsored by the New York area Holocaust survivors. They had invited him to speak about his book, and he in turn thought it would be good if I would speak about developments in the Catholic Church's relations with Jews. His historical novel portrays a grim time. The Inquisition bears witness to the ways in which the legacy of anti-Judaism became a justification for greed and intolerance and persecution. His selections mirrored the bleakness. For example, one of the principal characters, Friar Ricardo Perez, copies texts from the New Testament and early church writers such as Chrysostom in order to justify his hatred of Jews. Lew's final excerpt was from John Chrysostom, whose vitriol toward Jews is well known: "These Jews are gathering choruses of effeminates and a great rubbish heap of harlots. Their synagogues are brothels and theaters, dens of robbers and lodgings for wild beasts. Jews know but one thing: to fill their bellies and be drunk. Their condition is no better than that of pigs and goats. Refusing to accept Christ, they have made themselves fit for s!aughter. The synagogue is a dwelling of demons, and the Jews who pray there themselves are demons. If the Jews are acting against God, must they not be serving demons? For they did sacrifice their sons and daughters to demons. Jewish mother~ ate their own children, and the hands of Jewish women boiled their own children. Their synagogues are fortresses of the devil, and the pit of all perdition. The devil is a murderer, and the Jew demons who serve him are murderers, tOO.''7 The air hung heavy in the room. Then the chair introduced me in her heavily accented English. "Mr. Weinstein wanted this Sister Mary to come. I'm not sure why. I did not have such a good experience of nuns in Poland. Anyway, here's Sister Mary Boys." " "Oy ray," I thought on the way to the podium. "How did I get myself into this one--and what now?" November-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Interreligious Worm There was enormous anger in that room, much of it directed at the Catholic Church, which I represented to them. Their anger was not simply the church's failure to live the gospel during the Shoah (Holocaust), but also their experience as children. These were men and women who had been taunted, even beaten, as "Christ-killers," who feared--with good reason--walking by a church, who were terrified to go out in the streets on "Good" Friday. I had with me the 1997 "Declaration of Repentance" by the French bishops. Its words came to life before my eyes: In the judgment of historians, it is a well-proven fact that for centuries, up until Vatican Council II, an anti-Jewish traditibn stamped its mark in differing ways on Christian doctrine and teaching, in theology, apologetics, preaching, and in the liturgy. It was on such ground that the venomous plant of hatred for the Jews was able to flourish. Hence the heavy inheritance we still bear in our century, with all its consequences which are so difficult to wipe out. Hence our still open wounds? To work as a Catholic with Jews is to witness many "open wounds," wounds from the "heavy inheritance" of our own tradition. For this reason, the Catholic-Jewish encounter is sui generis in the interreligious sphere, a point Schneiders overlooks in saying that the interreligious encounter differs "in virtually every way from the ecumenical one. It involves an encounter not between separated siblings, but between virtually total strangers.''9 We Catholics and Jews are indeed separated siblings, and that separation has been bitter, violent, and tragic. We are not strangers; we have been enemies--and to work for reconciliation is an obligation of justice. It is difficult enough for us as Catholic women to deal with church structures that mute our voices. It is even more disillusioning to study the long history of Christian contempt for Jews, the tradition of adversus Judaeos: how rivalry hardened into contempt, and contempt fostered disputation, and disputation developed into demonization, and demonization fertilized this "venomous plant of h~tred for the Jews." Like all of history's stories, the church's relationship with Jews and Judaism is a complicated tale--with significant contextual factors in every age, occasions of amity and respect and of prophets with a different vision. Nonetheless, it is largely a story of moral blindness, imperialism, and violence. While I am not personally complicit, it is Revie~v for Religious a story of which I am deeply ashamed--and one that demands I examine my complicity in other betrayals of the gospel. I am grateful for the privilege, difficult though it is, of facing those whom our history has hurt. Meeting survivors and knowing children of survivors (and, for that matter, knowing any Jews at all, for who among them has not been touched in some way by the Shoah?) means not only reading this history with deepened sensitivity, but also being emboldened to act differendy so that "the spoiled seeds of anti-Semitism should never again take root in the human heart."1° Nevertheless, confronting this history causes anguish and compounds my problems as a feminist with the institutional church. The "open wound" of which the French bishops spoke festers even as I struggle with my Catholic identity in a church that treats women as second-class citizens. I live, too, with the irony that the official church seems more committed to dialogue with Jews than with their own women. The confrontation with history, moreover, triggers another crisis, a dark night of the soul. If "the most acutely painful point of intersection between the postmodern sensibility and religious faith is the God-image,'' 11 then the Shoah is the starkest event in this intersection. It brings one face-to-face with the "abusing God," requiring us to ponder unbearable questions about the One to whom we pray22 As grateful as I am for all I have learned (and continue to learn) about prayer from my sisters, we seem reluctant to address these searing questions in our common prayer. Indeed, I cannot recall any occasion in which the Shoah and its challenges to our understanding of God have been raised to the conscious level in the communal prayer of my own congregation, the Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary. This leads me to wonder whether any congregation, with the exception of the Sisters of Sion, confronts "God issues" that swirl around the Shoah23 The way that many Jews, especially in this post-Holocaust period, address God in a challenging manner has much to teach us. Elie Wiesel says that those who stand within the covenant have the To work as a Catholic with Jews is to witness many "open wounds," wounds from the "heavy inheritance" of our own tradition. Nbvember-December 2001 Boys * The Interreh~ious Worm right to say anything to God--even blasphemy.~4 In the concluding section of his profound meditation on God and abuse (including the Shoah, but also sexual abuse), David Blumenthal composes darifig prayers for use in Jewish liturgical services. He cautions that prayers of this type require preparation: One must have a deep commitment to God, a deep desire to want to be with God, to want to have a relationship with God. It must be important, indeed a matter of spiritual life and death, to be able to address God. One must have, too, deep and abiding faith in the covenant, in our ability to address God no matter what the circumstances and no matter how severe our prayer may be; and in God's desire to hear us and to help us address God. One must also have a sense of proportion about our relationship to God. We are creatures, not Creator. We are innocent, as victims of abuse; but we are sinners, in many other matters. We are accusers, yet we are children. This creates a tension in our images of ourselves, of God, and of the proper relationship between us; yet we must live, think, and pray within this tension.~s Facing the history of our relationship with Jews and learning Jewish ways of addressing God have provided depth and texture to my own prayer. I~I. Friday nights: a guest at the dinner table for Sbabbat. Passover: a guest at the Seder. I feel deeply privileged to join jewish friends for Shabbat or for the Seder. I have learned more than I can say from the lively conversations and observing the ways in which they su'ive to lead lives of integrity in fidelity to Torah. Without idealizing the tradition, I find much cause for "holy envy": its depth of prayer mirrored in the Siddur and in the cycle of festivals, the intellectual vitality (especially the value placed on study), the prizing of family, and home-based religious practices. My relationships leave me no doubt that Judaism fosters a holy way of life and that the ways of Torah are salvific for those committed to walking in its ways. The privilege accorded me in coming to know the power of another religious tradition finds little reflection in the recent Vatican declaration Dominus Iesus (D1).16 My experience provides a different vantage point from which to view other religious traditions. Even as DI recognizes that the dialogue between Christianity and other religions raises new questions that should be "addressed through pursuing new paths of research, advancing proposals, and Review for Religious suggesting ways of acting that call for attentive discernment" (§3), it reiterates traditional formulations of faith in arguing against pluralism. It condemns the mentality of indifferentism "characterized by a religious relativism which leads to the belief that 'one religion is as good as another'" (§22). The declaration refutes those who regard the Catholic Church as merely "one way of salvation alongside those constituted by the other religions" (§21). Rather, "Jesus Christ is the mediator and universal redeemer" (§11). Further, "one can and must say that Jesus Christ has a significance and a value for the human race and its history which are unique and singular, proper to him alone, exclusive, universal, and absolute. Jesus is, in fact, the Word of God made man for the salvation of all" (§15). According to the Congre-gation for the Doctrine of the Faith (CDF), one may still speak of equality in interreligious dialogue, but only in reference to the "equal personal dignity of the parties in dialogue, not to doctrinal content nor even less to the position of Jesus Christ . Thus, the certainty of the universal salvific will of God does not diminish but rather increases the duty and urgency of the proclamation of salvation and of conversion to the Lord Jesus Christ" (§22). Without entering into detailed theological analysis of Dominus Iesus, I simply want to call attention here to one of its primary deficiencies. The declaration has no sense of the relational, no feel for human interchange. Other religions are an abstraction, a category, an it. DI pays no attention to these religions as they exist in the lives of real people; it shows no sensitivity to the "thick" texture of other traditions. The writers, rather, claim objectivity: "Objectively speaking, they [other religions] are in a gravely deficient situation." Such a judgment ignores theologies of pluralism that allow one to privilege his or her own convictions while taking account of the reasonability of others' beliefs.~7 In judging dialogue from a position of omniscience, the declaration bears no indication of what we might learn from the religious other. Facing the history of our relationship with Jews and learning Jewish ways of addressing God have provided depth and texture to my own prayer. Noventber-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Into'religious Worm On the explicit level, DI says little about the church's relationship with Judaism.~ DI refers to Jews just once (§13): "The first Christians encountered the Jewish people, showing them the fulfillment of salvation that went beyond the Law," thus implicitly porraying Judaism as legalistic. DI then falls silent about Judaism. Nonetheless, its judgment~ seem to encompass Judaism, because DI notes no exceptions. It works only with three categories: Roman Catholicism, other Christian churches (distinguishing between those with apostolic succession and a valid Eucharist and "ecclesiastical communities which have not preserved the valid episcopate and the genuine and integral substance of the eucharistic mystery [and therefore] are not churches in the proper sense" §17), and non-Christian religions. In view of such a sweeping scope, readers may reasonably infer that the CDF includes Judaism within the rubric of non-Christian religions. Jews, therefore, seem also to be subject to the claim that, because "Jesus Christ is the . . . universal mediator" (§11), "one can and must say" that his significance and value for "the human race and its history., are unique and singular, proper to him alone, exclusive, universal, and absolute., for the salvation of all" (§ 15). For Catholics this means being "committed to proclaiming tq all people the truth definitively revealed by the Lord and to announcing the necessity of conversion to Jesus Christ and of adherence to the church through baptism and the other sacraments in order to participate fully in communion with God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit" (§22). Such a view stands in tension with my own experience.~9 As one privileged to be a frequent guest in Jewish homes, to learn from Jewish scholars, to experience something of the profundity of Jewish liturgy and prayer, and, above all, to have close Jewish friends, I have an abiding respect, even awe, for the depth of Judaism. The way of Torah certainly seems to me salvific for those who walk in it. I cannot.in conscience seek the conversion of a Jew. This is not a matter of indifferentism, but rather a glimpse of the incomprehensible God whose ways transcend our under-standing. IV. Three items: Item: "Jesus' relations with women seem to have been remarkably free, given the reserve that Jewish custom in his day required."2° Item: "At the historical moment when Jesus was born Review for Religious into the world, the stares of Jewish women had never been lower . By the time of Jesus' birth, many decades of rabbinic commentary and custom had surrounded Old Testament literature. And these rabbinic traditions considerably lowered the status of women.'m Item: "Palestinian Hebrew women were among the poorest in the world in Jesus' day. This was probably because they had no inheritance rights and could be divorced for the flimsiest of reasons. Hebrew men could divorce their wives for anything from burning the dinner (Hillel) to adultery (Shammat). Yet Hebrew women were not allowed to divorce their husbands .A. Hebrew woman had minimal to no property rights A. .child was held to be Jewish only if the mother was Jewish. Most Jewish girls were betrothed by their fathers at a young age. Jewish women were held to be unclean while menstruating. If she inadvertently touched a man while having her menses, he was obliged to undergo a week-long purification ritual before worshiping at the Temple . In early Judaism women did proclaim and prophesy, but in Jesus' day they weren't permitted to proclaim Torah at synagogue because of their periodic 'uncleanness.' As a rule, only the rabbis' wives were so educated. Women were not accepted as witnesses in Jewish law, nor could they teach the law. Women had no official religious or leadership roles in first-century Judaism. Jesus' behavior toward women, even viewed through the androcentric lens of the gospel texts, is remarkable.''2z I could multiply such examples; they seem ubiquitous in feminist writing, both scholarly (less now, though more common among feminist authors from the third world and the East) and pastoral. These perspectives are communicated widely among women's communities and beyond them. My encounter with Judaism helps me look at such claims critically, especially those related to the Second Temple period and the early church. I am sympathetic to the desire to understand Jesus as one who liberated his followers--including (perhaps especially) women--from the oppressive structures of religious authorities. (Yes, many of us consider some religious authorities oppressive in our time.) Nonetheless, I have come to agree with Mary Rose D'Angelo that portraying Jesus as the one "who saves women from Judaism" bothoversimplifies and distorts the situation of Jewish women in lst-century Palestine23 It does indeed seem that, in many feminist and liberationist circles, "no plot is complete witho.uLt a-575- November-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Interreligious Worm reference to the 'Jewish patriarchal system,' although very rare are comments on the similarly patriarchal pagan cultures of antiquity.''24 Sadly, I have come to see that many who do theology under the rubric of feminism have drunk all too deeply from the wells of anti-Judaism. Despite the rich literature on the Pharisees, most notably that of Anthony Saldarini,25 in many liberal and feminist circles they function as the symbol of precisely what is wrong with religious authorities. (For example: "[The Pharisees and their colleagues the scribes] tried to keep control over people's access to God through control of the Law. Jesus denounced this pretension and returned to the people the true means of access to God: love and com-passion." 26) In many feminist writings, moreover, the laws of ritual purity, which the Pharisees are portrayed as championing, serve as the source of the clearest contrast between oppressive Judaism and the liberating Jesus. We are instructed about the "dehumanizing situation in which the women of the time were enslaved." We learn how menstruating women were "discriminated against, degraded, and dehumanized,m7 In short, some feminist writers contrast Jewish women of the Second Temple period with New Testament narratives to support their claims that, "at its inception, pristine Christianity and Jesus himself were free of any misogyny or gender bias." Thereby they implicitly buttress the argument of Christian superiority over Judaism.28 Thus I differ with Sandra Schneiders's portrayal of Jesus vis-a-vis his Jewish contemporaries. While I appreciate--and agree wholeheartedly with--her larger argument about the way in which the prophetic character of religious life places communities in tension with ecclesiastical authorities, I disagree with claims such as "Jesus was rejected by official Judaism" and the more subtle assertion that, "like Jesus, who taught both respect for ecclesiastical leaders insofar as they legitimately hold office and resistance to ecclesiastical oppression, religious must stand with and for the disempowered in the church (cf. Mt 23:2-5 [the scathing denunciation of the scribes and Pharisees]).''z9 The Pharisees, despite their depiction in the Gospels, cannot historically be regarded as representatives of "official" Judaism (there was no such official body), and we should not use them as symbols of clericalism, however useful that might be to feminist causes. They were not the equivalent of ecclesiastical leaders. We would do well to listen to Jewish feminists--such as Paula Review for Religious Fredriksen's observations about the purity laws,3° Ross Kraemer's critique of rabbinic prooftexting,3~ and Rabbi Elyse Goldstein's wrestling with the meaning of the purity rules for her own life.32 To recognize that "Jewish hopes of a new and transformed world made the movement begun by Jesus and his companions and early Christian communities forums for participation and leadership for women" necessitates refining our argument, but in no way diminishes it.33 To acknowledge the complexity of patriarchy in antiquity as well as in early Christianity entails facing the arrogance of our own limited perspectives. In sum, my encounter with Jews and Judaism has brought deepened appreciation for the distinctiveness of religious life in the Catholic tradition. It has challenged me to face the long shadow of our history and to grapple with many questions about God in light of the Shoah. It shapes my theological vantage point on Dominus Iesus as well as various feminist writings. Above all, my encounter inspires hope. For all that lies unresolved within our church in regard to relations with Jews, what has happened between Christians and Jews in our time testifies to the power of the Spirit to bring healing and new life--a testimony that emboldens my own commitment to religious life. Notes ~ This is an edited version of a paper presented at the conference on "The Nun in the Postmodern World," sponsored by the Suenens Foundation in Leuven, Belgium, 31 May--4 June 2001. My thanks to Dr. Doris Donnelly, director of the Suenens Foundation and to Mariana Murphy SNJM, to whom I dedicated it on the occasion of her 70th anniversary of religious profession. 2 Sandra M. Schneiders, Finding the Treasure: Locating Catholic Religious Life in a New Ecclesial and Cultural Context, Vol. 1 of Religious Life in a New Millennium (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), p. 348. 3 Schneiders, Finding, p. 330. 4 Celibacy seems to have been characteristic only of the Therapeutae, a lst-centuryJewish ascetic group near Alexandria, Egypt. Scholars debate whether the covenanters at Qumran were celibate and, if so, whether that was a permanent or temporary state. See Lawrence Schiffman, Reclaiming the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: Doubleday, 1994), pp. 127-143, and Joseph Fitzmyer, Responses to 101 Questions on the Dead Sea Scrolls (New York: Paulist Press, 1992), p. 66. s Schneiders speaks of religious life as "nonnatural" insofar as it involves bypassing the most fundamental natural mediations of the God- November-December 2001 Boys ¯ The Interreligious World human engagement. She distinguishes "nonnatural" from unnatural or antinatural "because nothing is mote fundamental to our humanity than the quest for God." She also notes that this path is fraught with danger, including "ascetical extremism, rigidity, misanthropy, false mysticism, gnosticism and esotericism, elitism" (Finding, pp. 131-132). 6 For an analysis of this reticence, including its problematical character, see Steven M. Cohen and Arnold M. Eisen, The Jew 14/Tthin: Self, Family, and Community in America (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2000), esp. chap. 6, "God and the Synagogue," pp. 155-180. 7 Lewis Weinstein, The Heretic (New York: goodnewfiction.com, 2000), p. 158. Later Weinstein has Perez use Chrysostom in a sermon at the cathedral (see pp. 242-244). s Quoted in Secretariat for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs, Catholics Remember the Holocaust (Washington, D.C.: United States Catholic Conference, 1998), p. 32. 9 Finding, p. 336. 10 This is the conclusion of the 1998 Vatican document We Remember: A Reflection on the Shoab; see Catholics Remember the Holocaust. The United States Conference of Catholi~ Bishops (USCCB) has now published a companion volume, Catholic Teaching on the Shoah: Implementing the Holy See's "We Remember" (2001). II Schneiders, Finding, p. 195. 12 I take the phrase "abusing God" from the work of David R. Blumenthal, Facing the Abusing God: A Theology of Protest (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox, 1993). 13 On the Sisters of Sion, see my Has God Only One Blessing?Judaimt as a Source of Christian Self-Understanding (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), pp. 17-22. 14 "The questions man poses to God may be the same God poses to man. Nevertheless, it is man who must live--and formulate--it. In so doing, he challenges God, which is perm. issible, indeed required. He who says no to God is not necessarily a renegade. Everything depends on the way he says it, and why. One can say anything as long as it is for man, not against him, as long as one remains inside the covenant; only if you repudiate and judge your people from the outside will you become a renegade." Elie Wiesel, One Generation AJ~er (New York: Avon, 1972), p. 216. ,s Blumenthal, Facing the Abusing God, pp. 284-285. 16 "'Dominus Iesus': On the Unicity and. Salvific Universality of Jesus Christ and the Church," Origins 30, no. 14 (14 September 2000). It is dated 6 August 2000 and was issued on 5 September 2001--ironically, the same week as Jewish scholars released Dabru Emet, an eight-point statement responding to Christian attempts to come to terms with anti- Judaism. (For Dabru Emet, see www.jcrelations.net or www.icjs.org; also Tikva Frymer-Kensky, David Novak, Peter Ochs, David Fox Sandmel, ReviewforReligious and Michael Signer, Christianity in Jewish Terms (Boulder: Westview Press, 2000). ,7 See, e.g., Michael Barnes, Christian Identity and Religious Pluralism: Religions in Conversation (Nashville: Abingdon, 1989), and S. Mark Heim, Salvations: Truth and Difference in Religion (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1995). ~8 See my "Dominus Iesus and Judaism," forthcoming in Richard Sparks, ed., Proceedings of the Fi~h-sixth Annual Convention of the Catholic Theological Society of America. 19 For an account of something of what I have learned from Jews, see my Jewish Christian Dialogue: One Woman's Experience (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1997). 20 Monique Alexandre, "Early Christian Women," in/t History of Women in the West, Vol. 1, From Ancient Goddesses to Christian Saints, ed. Pauline Schmitt Pantel (Cambridge: Belknap Press, 1992), pp. 407-444 (citation, p. 420). 21 Cited in Judith Plaskow, "Feminist Anti-Judaism and the Christian God," Journal of Feminist Studies in Religion 7, no. 2 (Fall 1991): 104-107; in Helen P. Fry, Christian-Jewish Dialogue: A Reader (Exeter, U.K.: University of Exeter Press, 1996), p. 233. 22 Christine Schenk CSJ, "Celebrating the Inclusive Jesus," Celebration: An Ecumenical Worship Resource (February 2000): 80-84 (citation, 81-82). 23 Mary Rose D'Angelo, "Gender in the Origins of Christianity: Jewish Hopes and Imperial Exigencies," in Joseph Martos and Pierre Hegy, eds., Equal at the Creation: Sexism, Society, and Christian Thought (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1998), pp. 25-48 (citation, p. 25). 24 Amy-Jill Levine, "Lilies of the Field and Wandering Jews: Biblical Scholarship, Women's Roles, and Social Location," in Ingrid Rosa Kitzberger, ed., Transformative Encounters: Jesus and Women Re-Viewed (Leiden: Brill, 1999): pp. 330-352 (citation, p. 332). 2s See Anthony J. Saldarini, Pharisees, Scribes, and Sadducees in Palestinian Society (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1988); also his "Pharisees," in David Noel Freedman et al., eds., The Anchor Bible Dictionary, Vol. 5 (New York: Doubleday, 1992), pp. 289-303. 26 Tereza Cavalcanti, "Jesus, the Penitent Woman, and the Pharisee," Journal of Hispanic/Latino Theology 2, no. 1 (1994): 28-40 (citation, 40). 27 H. Kinukawa, Women and Jesus in Mark: A Japanese Feminist Perspective (Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1994), pp. 12, 27. 28 See Ross S. Kraemer, "Jewish Women and Christian Women: Some Caveats," in Kraemer and Mary Rose D'Angelo, eds., Women and Christian Origins (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), pp. 35-49 (citation, p. 36). 29 Schneiders, Finding, pp. 334 and 255, respectively. I am also uncomfortable with her section on Jesus as a prophetic model in her otherwise superb 2000 Madeleva Lecture, With Oil in Their Lamps: Faith, Feminism, and the Future (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 2000), pp. 97-108. In my November-December 2001 Boys ¯ Tbe lnterreligious Worm judgment, greater sensitivity to the heterogeneity of lst-century Judaism (arguments about Sabbath observance and the Temple [see pp. 100-101] were part of this heterogeneity), recognition that the Roman prefect controlled appointment of the high priest ("Nevertheless Jesus was executed by the Romans on the charge brought against him by the official of Judaism," p. 100), and contextualizing of phrases such as the "narrowness that had marred religion from long before his birth in the exclusivity of the Jews" would provide a more nuanced context for her claims. 30 Paula Fredriksen, Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews: A Jewish Life and the Emergence of Christianity (New York: Alfred Knopf, 1999), esp. pp. 197-207. 3, Kraemer, "Jewish Women and Chrisfan Origins, pp. 37-39. 32 Elyse Goldstein, ReVisions: Seeing Torah through a Feminist Lens (Woodstock, Vermont: Jewish Lights Publishing, 1998), esp. pp. 94-114. 33 D'Angelo, "Gender Hopes," p. 25. Mary at the Window Tawdry as any plastic trinket outshopped To some Asian source, and mass-produced In garish glass-like gold and blue To catch the sun, Mary Most Holy is reduced To a window ornament, turning to face out, Turning on filaments again for facing in On household disorder, dissension, kitchenwork, Children at play on the floor, where a thin Shaft of shining blue light circles one Dazzled child looking up: Mary catches a son. Nancy G. Westerfield R~vie~v for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Unsuspected Mission MeisSion, which is much more talked about than put into xecution by talkers, is at bottom a very simple human experience of sharing with others our living faith in God. As such it is accessible to all of us anywhere, if only we are interested in it. It can begin whenever we meet others and spontaneously converse with them. It seems that not enough has been said or even thought about these ordinary human encounters, without which no mission can be started or sustained, whereas perhaps too much has been said about progressive modes of mission. Genesis of a New Mission With the founding of the Society of Jesus, St. Ignatius Loyola surely initiated a whole new saga of mission in the world of his time. The saga, however, may not be or even seem new any more. In fact, since Vatican Council II, there has been quite a legitimate revision of his ideas about promoting and defending the faith. But one exercise of that old mission has still not lost its newness; it is relevant today, but without making a splash. That exercise is simply, to quote St. Ignatius's own words, "to be profitable to individuals by spiritual conversation.''~ Accordingly, unlike the monasteries in mountain solitudes from the time of St. Benedict in the 6th century or the hermitages erected in earlier times in the desert far away from the evil world, the Jesuit residences came to be situated near the centers of towns and cities, where people would gather and A. Paul Dominic sJ writes again from Satyodayam; 12-5-33 S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission Different from preaching, the mission of spiritual conversation is best characterized and distinguished as pure and simple conversation. intermingle. Only then would the Jesuits be able to meet the people naturally enough, have normal dealings with them, and, as occasions arose, converse with them spiritually. That was an unassuming exercise of mission with an enduring validity, for there can be no time when personal mission, that is, reaching out to specific individuals wherever we are and keeping them company, will be out of tune with the times. The movement of new mission, which in God's providence the Society of Jesus came to be and even stand for, was itself a product of person-to-person missions that Ignatius himself exercised. Having sensed the working of God in himself, he could not keep the experience to himself, but felt an urge to share it with others. He would have certainly loved the angel Raphael's words: "It is good to conceal the secret of a king, but to acknowledge and reveal the works of God, and with fitting honor to acknowledge him" (Tb 12:7, NRSV unless otherwise indicated), Sharing with others his treasured experience of God gradually became a mode of life for him. He came to see it as a matter of course for him: to glorify God and at the same time be of help to others within his reach. Whereas his first contacts were the women whom he chanced upon at his usual haunts of the chapel or hospital, his fame)us beneficiaries were Pierre Favre (now a blessed) and Francis Xavier (now a saint) and a few others at the University in Paris, who with him came to form the Society of Jesus. It is no wonder that people who experienced the charm of his spiritual conversation tried to. be like him. It seems that the early Jesuits' fecundity in mission was in no small way owing to their exercise of spiritual conversation. Xavier, who blazed the trail of mission for the nascent Jesuit order and for the church of his day, was known for his extraordinary expertise in spiritual conversation. Not only companions of his like Peter Canisius (now a saint) witnessed to itfl but also the people of Bologna, who could say twenty years after his short stay with them: "He spoke little, but with great persuasivene.ss. He talked of divine things with great Review for Religious ¯ devotion, and his words penetrated into the hearts of his hearers and held them fast.''3 Itis a pity that those who have criticized Xavier's mission outreach with their post-Vatican II historical hindsight have failed woefully the postmodern mission by their ignorance of the practical skill in which Xavier excelled, namely, conversational mission--which, to be sure, will be out of date when humans cease speaking and being sociable. The Makeup of Conversational Mission Though the expression "conversational mission" used just now, and the equivalent expressions used earlier, are self-explanatory enough, there is nothing like getting full information straight from the horse's mouth. What did Ignatius himself say when he spoke to his little band of friends regarding their kind of preaching. We get some idea from his answer to a Dominican authority's peremptory question "Whatever do you preach?" Ignatius answered: "We do not preach but do speak familiarly of spiritual things with people, as one does after dinner, with those who invite us." In this brief and frank response--which, however, his interlocutor considered equivocal--one may discern and recognize three elements of the conversational mission: (1) conversation itself, (2) a veering to spiritual matters, and (3) a pleasant, familiar tone of voice. Notice that this Ignatian anecdote itself demonstrates spiritual conversation. A contrasting example may clarify the matter. Gregory of Nyssa had observed Christians in the marketplace of Constantinople. He reported: Constantinople is full of mechanics and slaves, who are all of them profound theologians, preaching in the shops and the streets. If you want a man to change a piece of silver, he informs you wherein the Son differs from the Father; if you ask the price of a loaf, you are told by way of reply that the Son is inferior to the Father; and, if you inquire whether the bath is ready, the answer is that the Son is made out of nothing,s This is certainly not true spiritual conversation, having only a specious similarity to it. Different from preaching, the mission of spiritual conversation is best characterized and distinguished as pure and simple conversation. It is that first and foremost, with no agenda except being present to others and getting acquainted.6 One talks with a November-December 2001 Dominic * Unsuspected Mission single individual or a small cluster, not a crowd. Such a conversation happens when we adopt towards people a welcoming attitude, perhaps forgoing for the time being our own business or preoccupation. It unfolds when we are truly ourselves, without putting on airs or having an ax to grind. It is engaging by its very nature, as we respond sensitively to the personal and situational stimuli around, now by word, now by silence, and all through by our bearing. Such a conversation does not follow any pattern except that of people letting one another's personalities freely rise to the occasion according to the twists and turns of the talk and the topics. If there is any way of programming it from beginning to end, it is by eager and attentive listening. Such conversing is like the breath of wind whose coming and going is beyond our reckoning, but which refreshes us and gives us pleasure. It is as natural and spirited as that. Engaging in it, we take others' measure and strive to bring out the best in them, thereby improving and testing ourselves (Si 9:14; 27:5). When people open the homes of their hearts in this hospitable way, Abha-God cannot be far away (1 Jn 4:12). If the art of dealing and conversing with people is, obviously enough, a natural human talent or acquirement, it is also, according to the mind of Ignatius, a grace.7 Perhaps such an understanding may be read between the lines of Paul's "Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone" (Col 4:6, NIV). Surely any conversation done ¯ in the reverent awareness of the Lord Jesus (Col 3:17; 1 P 3:15) will enable us to be at our best, natural or supernatural. Thinking along this line, perhaps, Kahlil Gibran could counsel: "When you meet your friend on the roadside or in the marketplace, let the spirit in you move your lips and direct your tongue.''8 Those who make sense of this and make spa~e for the Spirit will come to know how the~ are led, even in the face of the unfriendly, to talk without anxious forethought and yet reveal a truth that they themselves are not directly aware of (Mr 10:17-20). Besides such inspired moments, however, there are bound to be routine occasions or chance meetings when they will have to exercise their grace of conversation on a more deliberate, reflective level. At the appropriate time they will speak on spiritual affairs, as Sirach counseled long ago: "Let your conversation be with intelligent people, and let all your discussion be about the law of the Most High. Let the. righteous be your dinner companions, and let your glory be in the fear of the Lord" (Si 9:15-16). And the more Review for Religious they speak from the abundance of their heart, the better (Mt 12:34), following Paul's declaration "we believe, and so we speak" (2 Co 4:13). They will not resort to spiritual generalities, but will offer a specifically personal spiritual word of witness arising from whatever God has produced in the recesses of their heart and the externals of their life, as St. Paul does often (2 Co 1:4). In general, such conversational talk of God will be directed to what the partners in conversation require (Col 4:6). Far from anything bordering on evil, it will be "only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that [our] words may give grace to those who hear" (Ep 4:29), furthering their interior progress and stimulating their power for good in a society that hungers for more than small mercies: namely, justice, freedom, good faith, neighborliness, equality, and, not least, economic sufficiency, the proof of all the above? This conversational mission is to be carried on, for all its spiritual vision, in pleasant, discreet, and wholesome familiarity, the kind that may be witnessed (as Ignatius remarks) between the glad host and the happy guest who take time after a good meal to share what is in their hearts. Familiarity is the climate in which the conversational seeds of the spirit are best sown and harvested. Familiarity, however, is of different levels. The greater the familiarity, the better the opportunity for spiritual conversation. And so it is worthwhile to work discreedy towards deepening the familiarity. Familiarity or intimacy being the opposite of imposition, no conversational mission can be attempted if people make us aware that they would rather be left alone. Avoiding the least intrusion into their privacy, then, we must gendy gain their favor by our genuine respect for them, our interest in them as individuals with unique endowments, and our concern for any particular needs they may have. It is a matter of sincere accommodation, becoming all things to all people (I Co 9:22), all the while being sensitive to their ideals, their finer spiritual instincts. This is neighborliness towards them, without which no mission for their spiritual welfare can ever be thought of. So, even if they are not well disposed towards us, we deal with them pro-actively and seek to win them over, as God does. It is our familiarity with God that should overflow in our relation with others and make them feel at home with us. If we ever succeeded in this way of living, we would perhaps never meet anyone, however far gone in error, without effecting a change for the better. Blessed Pierre Favre was known precisely for such surprisingly wonderful encounters as November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsus~ected Mission he spoke about God without boring or annoying anyone, and so was lauded by Ignatius himself as one who could draw the water of grace from hardened souls. For those who would learn from him, here is a little precious lesson that he confided in a letter to a friend: In the first place., anyone who desires to be serviceable to heretics of the present age should hold them in great affection, . . . putting out of his heart all thoughts and feelings that tend to their discredit. The next thing he must do is win their goodwill and love by friendly dealings and converse on matters about which there is no difference between us, taking care to avoid all controversial subjects that lead to bickering and mutual recriminations. The things that unite us ought to be the first ground of our approach, not the things that keep us apart?~ Scriptural Suggestiveness Speaking about his spiritual discipleship, Ignatius confided that he was taught by God as a child by his master. In sharing his spiritual knowledge with others, however, he used theological and scriptural ideas and language, as in evident in his Spiritual Exercises. The question arises, then, whether there are scriptural indications behind his idea of conversational mission? Rescued by Jesus for Abba-God, Ignatius bums with desire to follow suit: looking for ways to edify and help his neighbors, he discovers that spiritual conversation significantly serves that purpose. Advocating this practice expressly and officially in the Jesuit Constitutions, he advances this reason: "The Lord has given care of his neighbor to everyone."~2 There seems to be reference to Sirach 17:12 or 17:14b and Luke 10:25-37, and certain other passages have a bearing on his divinely favored understanding of the mission of conversation. One is: "Proclaim the message; be persistent when the time is favorable or unfavorable; convince, rebuke, and encourage, with the utmost patience in teaching" (2 Tm 4:2). Is there much in common between proclaiming and conversing? Proclaiming is the activity which is described by the Greek verb kerussein here in 2 Timothy. Elsewhere in the New Testament, the " leprous man and the demoniac who were healed by Jesus, and the friends who witnessed Jesus' healing of the deaf and dumb man, are later "proclaiming" the blessing they received. Obviously, their proclaiming cannot be anything other than simply and Review for Religious enthusiastically telling people everywhere about their good fortune (Mk 1:45; 5:20; 7:36). This would have been conversation, involving relatively few people here and there--particularly impressive ahd contagious conversation, to be sure, but conversation nonetheless. Does the same sense hold when kerussein is used to denote the proclaiming activity of Jesus?13 Does kerussein have the same connotation of conversation here too? It does, for the following reason. Jesus himself presents his characteristic way of mission in terms of eating and drinking, while contrasting himself with his predecessor (Mt 11:19). In so doing he does not simply distinguish his way as the path of enjoyment or pleasure as opposed to the other's ascetical approach; but rather reveals himself in his mission as one who welcomes and enjoys and also extends fellowship with people, not of a class, but of all classes, brushing aside all prevalent social and religious taboos. So as he honors meal invitations--whether from Pharisees like Simon, tax collectors like Levi, friends like Martha, Mary, and Lazarus, or the hosts of wedding celebrations as at Cana, he in ~rn welcomes and plays host not only to his disciples but also--something that escapes people's attention--to public sinners and to social outcasts like the poor, the crippled, and the blind. If table companionship, being a guest or a kind of host, is characteristic of his ministry, it is not, as the Pharisees judge, by way of being a glutton and a drunkard, but of doing what goes with moderate eating and drinking, that is, having a conversation. C.S. Lewis remark, "The table is from time immemorial the place for talk." 14 This was particularly the case at feasts or parties that Jesus went to, with people reclining at table and engaging in prolonged conversation, valuing it more than food and drink.Is And, if a rabbi like Jesus is the chief guest, he has an excellent opportunity to cast his pearls26 Jesus makes use of such occasions to meet and converse with people at leisure and at length about what they miss and long for in life.17 When Jesus sends his disciples on their mission, he wants them to do no more than what they have seen him doing (Mk 3:14; 6:12). He bids them stay in the houses where they are welcome, in accordance with the sacred duty of hospitality in the East; there, during mealtime and at other times, they are sure to find Is there much in common between proclaiming and conversing? November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission opportunities for spiritual conversation. No matter how variously mission was carried on in the early church, kerussein in the sense explained above was surely part of the picture. It is interesting and revealing that, like his Master, Peter was accused of eating with those outside his Jewish fold. He was doing what he had seen Jesus doing, namely, conversing with those at table, sharing with them the word of God, and bringing them graces of the kingdom of Abba-God. And Paul too, despite the popular impression of him as addressing small and large crowds, no doubt employed the conversational mode of mission, especially towards the end during his two years of semicaptivity at Rome, as Luke's use of the word kerussein at the conclusion of Acts seems to suggest. The Practice of Unobtrusive Missioners The conversational mission, as traced above, is not something apart from life, but is very much part of it. One may find this confirmed in St. Paul's general exhortation: "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom" (Col 3:16). Though Ignatius specialized in the art of the conversational word and trained his Jesuit companions in it, one should not consider it something only for initiates.~s There can be no doubt that ordinary Christians in all times and climes have, like Ignatius in the first flush of his conversion, taken spontaneously to the conversational mission, and with tangible results. Their names have not come down to us, but they are in the company of the little Hebrew servant girl whose brief remark led Naaman the Syrian to find the true, unseen God (2 K 5:1-19). Describing the (Protestant Christian) mission that flourished in the mid 19th century among the Telugus in Andhra, South India, Rajaiah D. Paul can say: "From the very beginning of the movement., the work of evangelization was carried on by the infant native church itself, commencing with one individual and then extending, by natural and inevitable growth, like that of a living tree . The people followed much their own impulses . The quiet conversation when visiting friends and relations, the zealous defense of the truth when Christianity was assailed by others, the simple enunciation of belief when a reason for the hope that is in them was demanded; these, accompanied by a life consistent with the demands of the new religion, were what Review for Religious produced fruit in fresh accessions to Christianity." ~9 Reflecting on such experience of mission, which is perhaps more common than many suspect, one may discern an interplay of Christian fecundity and mission. The word fecundity, incidentally, may not be in common parlance now; but, as Henri Nouwen said, "it is a word worth reclaiming, for it can put us in touch with our deepest human potential to bring forth life"2° even in the ordinary circumstances of life. He tells a story of a bereaved South American mother. After celebrating Mass in memory of her young son killed in a tragic accident, he tried to condole with her. Caught up, however, with his own sorrow for her, he was not looking at her and not listening to her invitation to come home and have a meal with the family. Sensing this, the woman went closer to him and spoke to him gently, looking into his eyes: "Don't be so depressed, Father. Don't you know that God loves our Antonio, that God gave him to us for a few years and now wants to bring him to heaven? We are grateful that he was with us and we are grateful too that he can now be with God forever. We are grateful to you also. God loves us all and cares for us all.''21 One of the most dramatic and recent exponents of spiritual conversation is the North American woman named Peace Pilgrim. The Wise Choice of Celebrated Missioners Besides these anonymous but locally fecund missioners, there are celebrities in the international scene, like Frank Buchman (1879-1961), who made the most of spiritual conversation. For instance, along with swaying groups and governments by his moral authority as founder of the then quite active movement called Moral Re-Armament, Buchman also converted and gave life to all sorts of religious or secular-minded people by his individual conversations and dealings with them, and he inspired them to do likewise. A story is told of his stay at a hotel in Milan a few months before he died: "There were three barmen at the hotel. Frank Buchman did not buy drink from them. He went into their bar and gave them the bread of life. They and their families all found November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission something new from their friendship with him. One of then said of him, 'Dr. Buchman is different from most of the people I see. We have cleaned things up here since he came. Most of the leaders of Italy come to this bar sooner or later. The Foreign Minister was here the other day. He was so interested in what we told him about Buchman that he almost forgot his drink.'''22 One of the most dramatic and recent exponents of spiritual conversation is the North American woman named Peace Pilgrim (1908-1981). Not a Christian, she described herself as a religions woman with a vision of peace for the world. Keeping to her self-chosen double-barreled name, she committed herself to walking prayerfully as a pilgrim among people, eager to meet them and talk to them about the chances for peace. For this purpose she sported a short tunic with "Peace Pilgrim" in front and "25,000 Miles on Foot for Peace" on the back; she succeeded in drawing people into engaging conversations on the possibilities of peace in the modern world. To her pleasant surprise, she found the general response positive, with either a lively curiosity or a genuine interest in peace efforts. Her humble mission, basically human and Christian, touched people's hearts and even became a media phenomenon. This is how she recalls its beginning: "The birthplace of the pilgrimage was at the Tournament of Roses parade in Pasadena, California. I walked ahead along the line of the march, talking to people and handing out peace messages, and noticing that the holiday spirit did not lessen the genuine interest in peace. When I had gone about halfway, a policeman put his hand on my shoulder and I thought he was going to tell me to get off the line of the march. Instead he said, 'What we need is thousands like you.'''23 Her personal encounters soon became media events spreading her message of peace. What began fruitfully on 1 January 1953 continued with greater and greater effectiveness till her death in 1981 during her seventh talking pilgrimage. The Like Choice in India Ignatius, too, began his mission as an obscure pilgrim on the move. Thinking, as an Indian, of the pilgrim Ignatius and others before and after him in the Christian world, I cannot but admire the sureness of their spiritual instinct, which many Indians have as well. India, too, is an ancient land of pilgrims going on regular Review for Religious pilgrimages, besides, of course, the lifelong pilgrims who keep moving across the length and breadth of the country or stay put in a monastery (math) or in a forest area. It is pleasant to recall that, as Peace Pilgrim was exercising her newfound permanent mission in the American world, two (Catholic) Christians--Joseph Thambi in Andhra Pradesh and Peter Reddy (a convert from Hinduism through Lutheranism) ir~ Tamil Nadu--were living in India a life much like that of the sannyasis, going about and sharing their spiritual pleasure and treasure with others who came their way. Even before them Sadhu Sunder Singh of Punjab, a Sikh-turned-(Anglican) Christian, had blazed a sannyasi kind of mission trail as early as 1908.24 Part of "Vie Voyag~re" However unusual and surprising their vocation may have been, the personalities mentioned above knew how to exercise their mission in ways not only unusual but most ordinary. They used the ordinary human capacity of conversation to excite and evoke spiritual awareness in people. Such spiritual talk, being part of normal sofiial intercourse, can and ought to thrive among Christians anywhere; all they need is a good measure of the Christian spirit of people on pilgrimage (Heb 3:12-4:11; 11:8-16). This was the sure but unforeseen way by which even the risen Jesus, making his return pilgrimage to his Abba-Father, reached out to his lost or fallen disciples and sent them on their new mission. Who has not enjoyed the narratives of his accosting them, drawing them to speak to him from their heart, and then with inspiriting w~rds arousing their drooping spirits for mission? It is up to us, partners in a holy heavenly calling, to keep our eyes on Jesus and, thus encouraged, to encourage one another day after day on our mission journey, a journey at once inward and heavenward (Heb 3:1, 13). Such was characteristically the vie voyagkre or missionary life of Mary, too, whom Marguerite Bourgeoys (1620-1700), the foundress of the Congregation de Notre-Dame de Montreal, contemplated as the model of conversation with others. After composing my own article, I learned this from Mary Anne Foley's recent article.25 Because of the reported affinity of her spirituality with the lgnatian variety, I suspect that the Sisters of Notre-Dame may well have more to say about Marguerite's conversational mission, adding to what I, have said about Ignatius's. November-December 2001 Dominic ¯ Unsuspected Mission Notes t St. Ignatius of Loyola, The Constitutions of the Society of Jesns, trans. George E. Ganss SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 283, no. [648]. 2 See Thomas H. Clancy SJ, The Conversational Word of God (Anand, India: Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1978), pp. 59, 63. 3 So Schurhammer, Francis Xavier, Vol. 1, as in Clancy, The Conversational Word of God, p. 11. ~ See Clancy, Conversational Word, p. 9. 5 William Barclay, The Letters to Timothy, Titus, and Philemon (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1990), p. 127. 6 In an exhortation Jer6nimo Nadal shares what he has learned about this from Ignatius. See Clancy, Conversational Word,~pp. 53-54. 7 St. Ignatius, Constitutions, pp. 277, 332-333, nos. [624d] and [814]. s Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet (New Delhi: Allied Publishers, 1976), p. 72. 9 See St. Ignatius, Constitutions, pp. 113,283, nos. [115] and [650]. l0 See Clancy, Conversational Word, pp. 53, 65. I I See Clancy, Conversational Word, pp. 20-21. 12 St. Ignatius, Constitutions, p. 113, no. [115]. ~3 See Lucien Legrand, Mission in the Bible (Pune, India: Ishvani Publication, 1992), p. 60. ~4 C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves (Glasgow: Collins Fount Paperbacks, 1977), p. 91. t5 See Albert Nolan, Jesus before Christianity (London: Darton, LongTnan, and Todd, 1977), p. 38. t6 See William Barclay, The Gospel of Luke (Bangalore, India: Theological Publications in India, 1975), p. 94. ~7 The objection that Jesus' table talk does not qualify to be kerussein since it lacks the usual fanfare of publicity of the kerux or royal herald can be met by remarking that Jesus, being the herald of the compassionate God, does not carry himself like the heralds of proud earthly rulers. 's See William Barclay, The Letters to Pbilippians. Colossians, and Thessalonians (Bangalore: Theological Publications in India, 1975), p. 126. ~9 Cecil Hargreaves, Asian Christian Thinking (Delhi: ISPCK, 1979), p. 97. 20 Henri J.M. Nouwen, In the House of the Lord (London: Darton, Longrnan, and Todd, 1986), p. 33. 2~ Nouwen, House, p. 49. 22 Peter Howard, Frank Buchman's Secret (Bombay: Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, 1962), p. 2. Review for Religious 23 Peace Pilgrim, compiled by some of her friends (Santa Fe, New Mexico: Ocean Tree Books, 1994), p. 27. 24 See P.A. Augustine, "On a Pilgrimage to Rampur," Vidyajyoti Journal, March 2001, pp. 205-213. ~s See Mary Anne Foley CND, "Spirituality for Mission: Marguerite Bourgeoys and the Ignatian Tradition," Review for Religious 60, no. 1 (lanuary-February 2001): 53-57. Straggler Because he was youngest, his gift ranked least among the others, last of the lambing. But somewhere between the start of his journey and its final stretch he'd lost the creature, himself lost as well. Then he followed the star, as told, so stumbled upon the stable by accident, or design, call it what you will. Afraid, empty-handed, embarrassed, yet drawn to the manger, he knelt, close as a whisper. "I lost my gift." The Babe's mother, softly, "No, child, yours is best of all." Leonard Cochran OP November-December 2001 MARIE BEHA On the Seventh Day God Rested spiritual directions Maybe God rested (Gn 2:3), but we cannot. God could afford to rest; after all, creation was finished and "it was very good," but we rarely experience the luxury of seeing our work completed or of feeling satisfied with it. So we find Sabbath observance hard, whether it is the day of rest at the end of our work week or those mini- Sabbaths that occur naturally in our lives. Our tendency to fill all these times makes them anything but restful, even though it seems that resting should be at the heart of Sabbath observance, our own as well as God's. Sabbath Fillers Mmost any "thing" will do to fill up Sabbath time and minimize rest: work left over from the previous week, or getting ahead on the week to come. Fun and games can keep us busy. "Good works," everything from returning phone calls (or catching up with email, as though that were possible) to a frantic round of visiting sick relatives or neighbors, fill in the hours. Even an overload of required worship can make Sabbath more a burden than a rest. Marie Beha OSC writes from the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 North Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. Revie'w for Religious So, you ask, what is a person to do? The problem with all of the above is not with the what but with the why and bow of our doing. The need for accomplishment that motivates us is revealed in the satisfied but weary sigh that accompanies our Sunday evening summation: "I really got a lot done this weekend" or the equally tired but dissatisfied confession "My to-do list is as long as ever." Why are we so driven to do? Too often we fill our days, including our Sundays, to fill ourselves. No wonder there are never enough hours in the week. "Resting" risks having to face the reveal-ing silence, the emptiness inside. So we hurry on, stuffing every day, including the Sabbath, with self-satisfying work. Even our worship can be performance oriented. What does "We had such a good liturgy this morning!" really mean? Are our criteria the spirited music, the well-delivered homily, and the smooth flow of the service--or being moved to heartfelt prayer and challenged to genuine interior conversion? Hopefully, the music and the homily prepare the way for "worship in spirit and truth" On 4:24), but they may simply leave us entertained and content. Worship can become crowded as though more equals better. When that is the case, we can hardly expect to "rest secure" (Ps 16:9). Nor can we if haste to have it finished clocks our obser-vance. Shortening periods of silence in order to get through our quota of prayers is anything but worshipful. The pace of our performance, in liturgy or elsewhere, may also keep us "worried and distracted by many things" (Lk 10:41). We are still meeting deadlines, even when being together is itself the goal. Family time has to be scheduled with the precision of airport takeoffs and land-ings, surface activity substituting for person.al relationships. Though we are together, we do not allow ourselves opportunity to really enjoy each other, much less become intimate. Scheduling every moment, hurrying through one activity to begin the next before the first is really completed, all adds up to workday pressure. Though we are weary, it seems we cannot stop or slow down. Our attempts at relaxation only add more stress. Even our sleeping late is restless. So we come to the end of our Sabbath lacking any sense of re-creation. The motivation for such crowding and overscheduling of even leisure time has a lot to do with our self-image, Which stems from our deeply felt need to see ourselves as creative achievers. God has no such need and so can rest, and asks us to begin to do the same. November-December 2001 Beha ¯ On the Seventh Day God Rested Becoming a Sabbath People But you say, "I know all this, know it too well. What I don't understand is howto keep the Sabbath holy" (Dr 5:12). Rather than insisting on utterly severe limitations of activity on the Sabbath, as some Pharisees in the Gospels seem to have done, our recent Catechism (§2185) says nothing about "servile work"; it simply says we should "refrain from . . . work or activities that hinder the worship owed to God, the joy proper to the Lord's Day, the performance of the works of mercy, and the appropriate relax-ation of mind and body." Especially for the many of us who do almost no manual (or "servile") work on weekdays, spading in the garden may be a wonderful thing to do on Sundays. Churchgoing is not supposed to be the only activity that makes the seventh day special, though some neglect even this. For those who do partic-ipate in Sunday worship, however, it may become just one more item packed into a hectic weekend schedule. After it, we may feel permitted to spend the remainder of the day on ourselves--and then squander it on hecticness that neither praises God nor refreshes us. And that is precisely the problem with much of our Sabbath observance. This is God's day. Like God, we are to work most days at cre-ating this world, making a garden of it, if you will. But also, like God, we are to rest from our labor one day and so gain something of the divine perspective. Work is meant to predominate since this is the way our world takes form and shape--and we ourselves are likewise formed by that very shaping. Through work we become what we are meant to be: responsible cocreators of this beautiful world of ours. Made from this earth, we are called to care for it, to be nourished by it, and in the end to return to it. But there is more to our human vocation than this. Though made from the earth, of the earth, we are ultimately from and for God. Sabbath observance rhythmically registers this reality of human existence in our lives. Between this week's labor and the next, we stop and look up. Like God, we rest. Although our Sabbath observance is brief and limited, it is there to prevent our being worn down by the activity needed to work out our salvation. Sabbath prepares us for an eternal rest when our work will be complete and our being-with-God just begun. The original commandment, "Keep holy the Sabbath," is the third commandment, after those forbidding worship of false gods and taking God's name in vain, All three put us in the context of Review for Religious God's original covenant with his chosen people. Observing these commandments is our covenantal response. More than moral law, the Sabbath describes a relationship. Since we are God's people, we need to be holy as God is holy, working and resting as God does. Observing the Sabbath forms us into the divine image, helping us realize our identity as individuals and as a people. Why did God rest on the seventh day? To enjoy the goodness of that wondrous creation. We do the same. Enjoyment, part of our human capacity for contemplation, moves us beyond the every-day criteria of use and usefulness. All too often, when we experience something new, our question "What's this?" is followed at once by "What's it good for?" Sabbath offers us a respite from such a utilitarian viewpoint; it gives us an opportunity to affirm reality as good in itself. We receive it as a divine gift, even before we discover whether if fits into our schema of things. We appreciate its beauty, even if it is not to our taste. We accept its truth without need to compre-hend, much less control, its mystery. Besides deepening our capacity for appreciation, Sabbath leisure forms us into a free people. Originally a way for the Jewish people to celebrate their liberation from Egypt's oppres-sion, it can open us to similar possibilities. We are not meant to be slave laborers, nor to enslave others to relentless productivity. Stepping back from what we do six days a week enables us to see where we are oppressed, where we may be oppressors. In the leisure that this seventh day provides, we are free to ask ourselves what we would like to do if we had the time. What would re-create us? No matter if our answers would require more demanding activity than our everyday work; perhaps that is what we would find renewing. After being tied all week to a desk, we may really enjoy discovering and using our bodies at least one day a week. Professionals may relax in an activity that allows them the leisure to be rank amateurs, while people whose everyday is dull or dreary discover their potential as "professional" chefs or musicians. Seeing each other in more creative ways keeps us open to the surprises that lie untapped in the hearts of us all. Someone who lacks both time and talent for learning to play music well can still More than moral law, the Sabbath describes a relationship. November-December 2001 Beha ¯ On the Seventh Day God Re, ted enjoy the creativity of a less-than-professional performance. Attempting portrait painting may not produce a recognizable like-ness, much less something that can be sold, yet it can fill someone's need for self-expression. Sabbath Free Time The Sabbath also provides us with "free time," allowing us to "waste" some of it. For productive Americans the mere phrase "wasting time" sounds vaguely immoral, even though time is a giJ~. We cannot earn even a single additional day of life, nor are we billed for the ones we have received. Sabbath observance opens us to the possibility of"doing nothing." Even a brief period given over to deliberate inactivity can, if nothing else, show us how enslaved we have become to filling time. When not doing some-thing useful, we feel threatened by nonexistence: what are we good for? Doing nothing translates readily into being nothing; that is why it is painful, at least at first. But, with patient practice and a willingness to go below surface unease, we can discover a deepening quiet underneath all our activity. As with a swiftly moving river, there is a silence inside that is full of life and awaits the exploration of our doing nothing. Enjoying what is, being free to do something nonproductive that in fact re-creates us, can be forms of Sabbath worship for us creatures as we learn who we are and why we were made. Personal relationships require a certain spaciousness, and this is true of our friendship with God. On the Sabbath we and God spend time together. Sometimes we talk or argue, sometimes we are simply together in comfortable or uncomfortable silence, but we are together. That is what matters. That is the heart of any obser-vance of the Sabbath. And those observances are multiple. Seventh-day observance is paradigmatic but not exhaustive. We can expand one day to a week of R and R: rest, recuperation, or retreat. Or, and this is more common, we can compress Sabbath-like observances to take advantage of moments of free time that open up in any day or that we build into it. The former include snippets of time we often vainly fret away: when the elevator takes forever to arrive, when the answering machine advises us to "hold" until the "next available operator" responds, or when the receptionist explains that "the doctor is running l~te today." Also, we can choose to sit quietly Review for Religious on the side of our bed when we first awaken, we can stretch quietly during a long morning at the computer, we can take a breath of morning air as we walk to the car. All of these can be pieces of Sabbath rest. They can break into our everydayness, much as seventh days interrupt the steady pace of work weeks. They can refresh us. Or they can be uneasy gaps we hasten to fill with nervous activity. How else explain doodling on telephone pads, tapping our feet, consulting our watch at fifteen-second intervals, or rushing our moments of transition. Using Sabbath Leisure Well Taking advantage of all the Sabbath times in our lives requires creative discipline. One suggestion: that we follow the traffic direc-tive "Be prepared to stop." Be ready to allow the seventh day--and the small intervals that force themselves into our best-planned days-- to evoke in us a willingness to surrender to something, to Someone, beyond our own self-interest. Willingness to set our own interests aside opens us to the more of mystery. The capacity for such transcendence demands life-long discipline, a way of living that includes. Sabbath observance. Preparation for Sunday's resting in the Lord begins when Saturday makes some change in our everyday routine. Though the day itself may well be packed full, it can hold its own refreshment, the peace and joy of taking care of things we had to put off earlier in the week. The danger is that "things to do" can take on a life of their own and invade our Sabbath time. Setting some time limits and then prioritizing what most needs to be done is one way of extending Sabbath observance to the vigil. Another is to include in this day of preparation something we like to do, something we look forward to doing: perhaps a special supper menu, a phone visit with a friend, a more leisurely bath, some quiet time before going to bed. The endless possibilities need only be tailored to our own preference. Fruitful observance of the Sabbath itself, like the great com-mandments of loving God, neighbor, and self, revolves around worship, reaching out to others, and re-creative leisure. As we Wil,tingness to set our own interests aside opens us to the more of mystery. November-December 2001 Beba * On the Seventh Da~ God Rested know only too well, these will not happen unless we are prepared to make them happen. Time for worship is probably the easiest of these to schedule, but we still need careful planning lest we end up in such a rush that we spend most of the service becoming quiet enough to worship. Of course, if some truly unforeseen great need comes into our life, we worship by responding to that need. But on most weekends we can prepare for worship at least as carefully as we would for any other important appointment. If a scheduled meeting with an employer requires some attention to appearance and promptness and some thought preparation, worship of our God surely merits the same. Once the time for communal worship has been determined, the rest of the day can revolve around it. How begin our Sabbath day in such a way as to open our heart more fully to God? A slower start, a long shower, a more leisurely breakfast, not only make this day special but also quiet our restlessness, enabling us to be more present in worship. Getting outside for some early morning exercise can do the same, while some silent reflection may help others to change pace and be ready for prayer. Getting to church in ample time seems a necessity if weekday patterns are to be converted into Sabbath stillness. Letting the drivenness, competition, and workday worry fall away prepares our heads as well as our hearts to "hear the word of the Lord" (Is 1:10). Even an unsuccessful effort to attain inner peace and quiet is a form of worship. We are trying to give God's time back to God. Coming into God's presence along with others reminds us that all our worship is communal. We join with others, not only those with whom we immediately share sacred space this week, but all the people of God gathered for worship, observing their Sabbaths on Friday, Saturday, Sunday. Sons and daughters of God, we are all children of Abraham as well, our core unity greater than our all too apparent diversity. Gathering in a common worship space lets us take these theological realities and translate them into practical charity. What begins with the community of worship can flow out to a much wider world or can be focused on care of a family member or a needy neighbor next door. Because we do this together, our charity becomes expansive and yet not abstract. We are reminded of needs that we ourselves may never have experienced or been exposed to, and we are challenged not to forget the small service Review for Religious that has no glamour and wins no notice. In both cases we are stretched beyond ourselves, an attitude basic to any true worship. A third element in our Sabbath observance is leisure, some rest, an opportunity to be made new in re-creation. Unless given some thought, all our Sabbath time can disappear in the more evi-dent good works of prayer and care for others. But a leisure that renews us is basic to true love of God and of others. Something we really enjoy needs to be included in our Sabbath observance if we are to be faithful to a Creator God who first saw that everything was good and then rested in that joy. So Sabbath observance includes time to just be, to play in the world, to enjoy the good-ness that God has made. Our rest is worshipful because it is filled with the truth that this is God's world wrapped in God's care. Sabbath beyond the Sabbath Other Sabbaths beyond seventh-day observance are three-day weekends, full weeks of retreat, and full sabbaticals every seventh year. Smaller Sabbaths can occur at intervals on ordinary days. All of these can contribute to forming us into people of the Sabbath, people who are free and not slaves to what we do. We are wor-shipers in what we do for God, for others, and even for ourselves. Our day can begin with a personal offering of our day to God along with our getting out of bed. It can end with a night prayer that is part of our stretching out in bed and getting comfortable for sleep. What is important is a habit of praying that, over time, becomes worshipful living. Willingness to expose ourselves to worldwide concerns is part of our everyday Sabbath observance. Ordinary caring for others on ordinary days opens our hearts, making more room for God in our life as we do on our Sundays. Sabbath observance is not a narrowing of our lives. It is a grand and glorious expansion that is an image of eternity. -50! November-December 2001 DONALD MACDONALD Where Your Heart Is Adrug pusher in prison said that he well understood the evil effects of drugs, but if he left prison tomorrow the temptation to go back to drugs would be irresistible. He knew of no other way where so much money could be made so easily. He had neith'er the skills nor the connections to obtain a similar lifestyle any other way. A young merchant seaman on shore leave in his home port said that, each rime he d6cked and met his friends, he noticed that their lifestyles had progressed to levels.he could never hope to reach, no matter how hard he worked. They too dealt in drugs. For these and others, the attraction of a lifestyle for self and family funded by illicit drugs almost overwhelmed the power of reason, community feeling, or the gospel to offer something better. Famine of God's Word Many people growing up in our postmodern climate assume that there is no such thing as objective truth; that, even if there is, it is beyond our reach. There was a time when people assumed that reason ruled, or at least could provide us with a guide to life for the benefit of all. Two world wars later, the cruelty of various civil wars and the unavoidable evidence of global human suffering have shown that confidence in reason alone is misplaced. Even the rocketing progress of technology, with its potential for Donald Macdonald SMM writes again from Montfort House; Darnley Road; Barrhead, Glasgow; G78 1TA Scotland, U.K. Review for Religious good, has a number of self-destruct buttons, one or other of which someone is sure to press. The many forms of the media offer access to much that is good, but may also expose us to what is bad or sadly deficient. Western Christians, for example, are aware that a good many writers and producers of television seem to hold that any reverent mention of God is nonsense, and that it is open season for attack-ing the Catholic Church. There are many occasions for people, especially young people, to be misled or bewildered. If this assess-ment is accurate, that does not mean that people cannot avoid being hypnotized or depressed by it all. There is a blunt alterna-tive in the invitation to accept the challenge to "repent and to believe in the gospel" (Mk 1:15). It is crucial that those blessed with the gift of faith understand this as a viable alternative or, better, that, with the confidence of the early church, they give themselves to it as "The Way." ¯ Otherwise, time and energy will be wasted in a possibly dispirited response to what are judged to be the ills of society. To react forever and not initiate risks clouding Ourselves in perpetual negativity. The seemingly omnipotent secular battalions set the agenda, and Christians hurry to set some defenses up, almost breathless in a sadly polluted atmosphere. "Repent".has a 19th-century ring to it and, on that assump-tion, may be dismissed by those who thoroughly accept contem-porary culture. It is, in fact, a call to change our minds, to turn from being self-centered, to open ourselves to the will and guidance of God. It is a dynamic challenge, not a static ruefulness, and it offers a new perspective on life. It may so take hold of us that we become "a living sacrifice," giving ourselves completely to God in response to the wonder of God giving himself to us in Christ (see Rm 12:1-2). Whether it be "us" or "them," Christian tradition recognizes the seed of sin in everyone. It is not the whole picture, but it has its effect on human behavior. Cardinal Newman found "the being of God [to be] as certain to me as the certainty of my own existence." Regarding the society of his day, he said, "There I see a sight which fills me with unspeakable distress., the defeat of good, the success of evil, physical pain, mental anguish, the preva-lence and intensity of sin, the pervading idolatries, the corrup-tions, the dreary hopeless irreligion . [All of this] inflicts upon the mind the sense of a profound mystery, which is absolutely November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ Where Your Heart Is beyond human solution . Either there is no Creator, or this living society., is in a true sense discarded from his presence." 1 Each category he mentions can be documented today--and perhaps the personal distress, too. Newman famously concluded that, "if there be a God, since there is a God, the human race is implicated in some terrible aboriginal calamity. It is out of joint with the purposes of its Creator.''2 The call to "repent and to believe" is the way out of this morass. "Bad religion" will not do it, and numbers of people have been hurt by it. But before so much hurt and "the dreary hopeless irreligion," with its miasmic presence stunting so much growth, the authentic way of Jesus Christ can guide us. This is the path religious walk on the jour-ney to God. The challenge is as insistent today as it was for the 1st or the 19th century; our century, like earlier ones, needs to hear the Good News. Pope John Paul said recently: "Even in countries evan-gelized many centuries ago, the reality of a 'Christian society' which . . . measured itself explicitly on gospel values is now gone. Today we must courageously face a situation which is becoming increasingly diversified and demanding" (§40).3 The church und.erstandably tries to come to terms with chang-ing structures in the contemporary world. Religious are often sad-dled with plant and too few personnel. Time and energy go into dismantling the structures, with pain to people and religious who have grown up seeing them as part of themselves. For many, this appears a sunset with nothing but darkness ahead to bury a once lively hope. But what if it indicates sunrise and the possibility of a graced opportunity to walk in newness of life, alive to God in Christ Jesus? Approach the Word To be open to thatl "we must rekindle in ourselves the impetus of the beginnings and allow ourselves to be filled with the ardor of the apostolic preaching" (§40). The zeal forming the church in the beginning came from the experienced presence of the Spirit of our risen Loi-d. To view the contemporary from within that perspective is to find ourselves with Someone who faced all that life could do to him, including crucifixion in his mother's presence, and who is alive with us today. Faced by contemporary relativism in a consequently fragmented society, Christians and Review for Religious especially religious would have so much more to offer, and so much more for themselves to believe in, if they realized that "holiness, a message that convinces without need for words, is the living reflection of the face of Christ" (§7). Familiarity with the authen-tic Jesus allows us to reflect him almost intuitively, as our faith is rekindled by who we see in the Gospel. It may then be impossible not to want to share what we have seen and heard. A glance at the Lukan Jerusalem journey (Lk 9:51-19:28) may help us glimpse something of the world of the early church, where the odds against Christians con-tin- uing to exist and influence society were immeasurably greater than anything we face. St. Luke's account begins with a thrice-repeated warning to consider where accompa-nying Jesus may lead, since "[Jesus] set his face to go to Jerusalem" and Samaritan villagers refused him hospitality "because his face was set toward Jerusalem" (9:51, 53). This is serious, not a day trip to the beach. The ostensibly encouraging "I will follow you wherever you go" (9:57) was not met with open arms by Jesus, but by a sharp warning to the individual to examine every syllable and consider what he meant. Does he really intend to volunteer for the same insecurity as his Leader, "the Son of Man [with] nowhere to lay his head" (9:58)? To come with Jesus may mean finding himself left like a leaf in a gutter--does he really want that? Another was bluntly told that commitment to Jesus comes before all family obligations: "Let the dead bury their own dead. ¯ . . You go and proclaim the kingdom of God" (9:60). Another would-be follower said he Would come, "but let me first say farewell to those at my home" (9:61). Jesus would leave by the time he came back, he was told; come now or not at all. The call is for mature persons who, once they have put hand to the 'plow, never look back. The humane pastoral concern of the Lukan Gospel is evident here in view of what happened at journey's end. No doubt this pattern was repeated time and again in the early years of the church. St. Luke's experience led him to believe that, while attrac-tion to Jesus is wonderful, it must include a realistic appraisal of what this means. We need to face ourselves as we face Christ; we Fami!iarity with the authentic Jesus allows us to reflect him almost intuitively. November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ Where Your Heart Is must engage in true discernment. If Jesus himself "set his face," steeling himself to stay at one with his Father's will, would-be fol- ¯ lowers can do no less on the journey, unless they come as specta-tors and not companions. Fidelity to God's will as the guide to life is a daily and life-long challenge: "I must go on my way today and tomorrow and the day following, for it cannot be that a prophet should perish outside Jerusalem" (13:33). Jesus had to face his greatest challenge, one that would cost him his life. He did so after thoughtful reflec-tion, not as a witless victim. In the light of experience, he honestly asks no less of us. Later on the journey, at a time when "large crowds were traveling with him" (14:25), the message is reinforced as Jesus asks them why they are there: "Whoever comes to me and does not hate father arid mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple" (14:25-26). Even while noting that Hebrew has no word for prefer, we get the point. Every natural and rational tie must take second place to the gift of myself to Christ. This is not meant to put people off. It asks us to consider seriously what we undertake if we accompany Jesus. We will always have Jesus, but perhaps at the cost of losing much else and, as it may appear, Jesus as we would want him to be. How much are we prepared to pay for that? We are asked to really consider this as we look to give ourselves to the gospel challenge. Our attraction to Jesus has to be constant and compelling if we are to genuinely repent and believe in him. Realistic Lukan pastoral care has Jesus ask yet again for mature thought about what it means to accompany him through life: "Which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise . . . not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him" (14:28-29). A second parable suggests pondering the consequences of going to war with ten thousand against an oppo-nent who has twenty thousand (14:3 i). This reflects the almost unbearable concern of Jesus and the evangelist, who have journeyed together and know the implica-tions of accepting the invitation to come with them. The verses . immediately before and after these challenging parables tell us why: "whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple . . . so, therefore, none of you can be my Review for Religious disciple if you do not give up all your possessions" (14:27, 33). The rest is surely silence, with mature prayer, reflection, and advice to help us see where we go from here.4 The Power of the Word Bearing one's cross is both a superb challenge and practical advice in view of the implications of accompanying Jesus. Even at first reading, we pick up the implied heroism, the need for great courage and strength. Yet, on gospel evidence, Jesus' closest disciples display a humanity that we can recognize in ourselves. There is, then, something attainable here. We should not put the challenge on the shelf as an impossible ideal. There is never a suggestion that it is a mistake to accompany Jesus. There must be something superlatively attractive in the per-son of Jesus that enables his disciples to hear such a challenge and actually take it up. The desire to understand how that enablement works is reason for opening our-selves to God's Word in Scripture. This is what was done at the beginning of monastic and reli-gious life. The desert fathers and mothers wanted to know from experience what it meant to leave all for Jesus, to accept the Sermon on the Mount's challenge to live without cares in the freedom promised by the gospel. Scripture helped them make the attempt and persevere. They and their contemporaries saw how Scripture's power could form them into people who have nothing as the world would understand it, yet were themselves rich in the currency of the gospel and able to make others similarly rich. They were truly influential people. The gospel, finding lodging in individual hearts, made for intimacy with God and love for others. As subsequent centuries learned, time given to Scripture, and to the Spirit of our risen Lord found therein, can make abounding love for others available to us too. Disciplined daily reading--allowing the words to register with us, and gently persuading us that we are hearing them for the first time--can transfigure us too. We need such transfiguring to approach a Lukan conclusion: "So, therefore, whoever of you does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple" (14:33). Jesus" closest disciples display a humanity that we can recognize in ourselves. November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ [~here Your Heart Is Nearer our time, that challenge was taken up by Charles de Foucauld, and his life is yet another proof of the transforming power of the word. He took the challenge of the Jerusalem jour-ney to heart. A religious, photocopying his "self-offering," offered me copies to send to friends. The gothic lettering was beautiful, but as I read it I wondered whether I had the courage to keep a copy beside me, much less send one to others. It reads in part: "Father, I abandon myself into your hands. Do with me what-you will. Whatever you may do, I thank you. I am ready for all. I accept all. Let only your will be done in me and in all your creatures. I wish no more than this, O Lord. to surrender myself into your hands without reserve, and with confidence beyond all question-ing, because you are my Father." Here are the terms of acceptance for accompanying Jesus on the journey through life. To invoke the prayer and patronage of such a man in Christ and, if I dare, to keep his self-dedication where I can see it--these things can help me join others on the Jerusalem journey. They can lead me to the sources that fed him. They are necessary in a world where so much competes for my self. Jesus on the Jerusalem journey points out that the heart may not be left empty. Even when all that is evil is forced from the heart, evil may return with immense power and bring "seven other spirits more evil than itself.and the last state of that person is worse thanthe first" (11:26). The evangelists, ~e fathers, Charles de Foucauld, and others can only encourage us to open our hearts to the power that made them mirrors of the gospel. With this shared enthusiasm for God in Christ continually fed by what we see in them, we in turn become faithful members of the company of Jesus. This is not for everyone, but it may be for us. Among the obstacles to accompanying Jesus as sketched in the Jerusalem journey is the risk of having a divided heart. Pressure to back away, to be close but not too close to Jesus, is always .there in one form or another. While it helps to steep ourselves in the gospel and invite the influence of those who clearly live for God alone in Christ, we must also try to live simply and so nourish detachment from everything but God's will. The less clutter around us, the freer are we to give ourselves to what w~ are asked. Often, tO want something is to get it. We get into a car, pick up a phone, write a check, press a key, or ask for it--and presently we have it. This is not true for vast tracts of the world, but it is true for much of it; and, given the chance, most people on every con- Review for Religious tinent seem to want to live like that. Religious professedly "poor in fact and spirit" share that same humanity. Because of this human tendency to acquire, they need constant vigilance, personal disci-pline, and continually renewed motivation in order to accompany Jesus on his gospel journey. Our circumstances need to reflect the authentic gospel challenge. Otherwise, despite our intent the cri-teria offered by the Lukan Jerusalem journey will seem an impos-sible ideal--the sort of ideal someone had in mind when saying archly that, with the Ten Commandments, "as in any examina-tion, only five need be attempted." Without the insight of faith, our postmodern environmental circumstances are likely to keep sug-gesting a "more reasonable" way of life, and we are likely to accept it unthinkingly. The chapel of a religious community, open on Sunday for Mass to a hundred or so people, presented a stark picture during Lent. The crucifix and statues were covered. A large swathe of purple material across the front of the altar ended in a symbolically overturned chalice. The lecterns from where Scripture was read and the gospel preached were engulfed in purple. The branches of a leafless tree reached up and out from its purpled-wrapped trunk. To the visitor it said that for this community Lent really meant something. Something has happened here. For the people wor-shiping here on Sunday, if the words spoken were at one with the setting, they could scarcely be less than disturbing. If, however, the religious community's life were at one with those words and those symbols, people attending would receive sufficient support and encouragement. The chapel inside the house, however, where the community prayed and worshiped with a few people during the week, was rather differe.nt. There was no suggestion of purple, aridity, or stark challenge in the folksy, chatty chapel. It was, in a word, domestic. There was no provision, no place, for a moment of pri-vacy in which individuals might face themselves before God; the chairs around the orange carpet formed a square with the altar, and people spoke and laughed easily across the space. A visitor asked how the community could issue so sharp a statement to people coming on Sunday from the pressures of their postmodern environment, and yet offer so little challenge in the chapel where they themselves were at home. They may have spent the night in prayer, dined on bread and water, and been selfless in serving the poor, but the climate they chose for themselves for November-December 2001 Macdonald * Where Your Heart Is addressed and told to consider whether we can leave everything, even life itself, to accompany Jesus. worship and prayer did not suggest that. The Sunday chapel may have been a liturgical or catechetical visual-aid for others; but, if they were to accompany their Lord to Jerusalem's summit, much more than a public gesture was necessary. It might be a good idea to have a framed copy of Charles de Foucauld's "dedication" in both chapels, but, for us and others to glimpse the simplicity of what he saw, we need to recognize that environment and appro-priate symbols matter, that we must make special efforts to free ourselves from many assumptions of contemporary society. Unless we do this, an easy acceptance of what we see around us in matters of lifestyle, furnishings, and aspirations will inevitably lead us into a certain secularity. Earlier history and the evidence of the last thirty years surely make that point incontrovertible. There can be no objective and globally acceptable standard here, but, for people who think of accepting the blunt challenge of the Jerusalem journey, surroundings do matter. One by one we are addressed and told to consider whether we can leave every-thing, even life itself, to accompany OFle by oFle we are Jesus. As ever, the situation is made plain in the Lukan approach: "Go on your way. I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no. purse, no bag, no sandals, and greet no one on the road. What-ever house you enter, first say, 'Peace to this house'" (10:3-5). Our sole security lies in being with Jesus, but, for such security to be ours, we must leave much else on which people around us reasonably rely. To behave differently we must see other than they do. In our dedication to the gospel, we scarcely have time for normal civilities, and yet we frequently offer the gift of peace and expect our words to have effect. We must accompany our risen Lord closely to function like that. Even if we sometimes see bringing some peace as a short-term mission, the effort may still be a weighty burden, and one that is clearly related to the rest of the Jerusalem journey. If our following of Jesus occurs in "the real world" (where being a lamb among wolves argues no future and scarcely any pre-sent), temptations to go through a gap in the hedge for a respite from the effort of keeping close to Jesus will inevitably occur. Lukan pastoral care admits as much: "Whoever denies me before others will be denied before the angels of God" (12:8-9). On arriv-ing in Jerusalem, the disciples collapsed under the pressure and did deny Jesus. In a postmodern world, we too are frail human beings, and the pressure to distance ourselves from him, not least by a more "reasonable" lifestyle, will always be there. To prevent this, we need to know where our real wealth is. "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (12:34). Jesus' answer to the rich young man's question, "What shall I do to inherit eternal life?" left him sad, "for he had great possessions" (18:18, 22) and his heart was not as close to Jesus as he had sup-posed. "Jesus looking at him said, 'How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the kingdom of God. For it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle" (18:24-25). Money and the power it brings opens most doors here on earth, but Jesus makes it unmistakably plain that it cannot buy anyone's way into his company. But for the grace of God, it would perhaps be an insuperable obstacle. Delight in the Word Inviting and challenging, Jesus looks at us too. He wants our company so much that he has risen from a grave to enable us to enter into his kingdom. There is a personal.relationship here. Intimacy with God and living at one with God's will, these are what living life to the full means. Here is human purpose, and our purpose. "Jesus rejoiced in the Holy Spirit and said, 'I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and intelligent and have revealed them to infants . All things have been handed over to me by my .Father" (10:21-22). These words are spoken after the disciples' excited return from venturing out among the people supported only by trust in Jesus' word. Now they know from experience something of the possibilities and power of his message. Many others who seem better placed than they to understand do not know what the disciples know. Jesus is ecstatic. "Thrilled with joy in the Holy Spirit," he looks in wonder at these "infants" who were coming to know him and his Father. On our journey you and I ake in the company of our risen Lord; we. are not isolated strangers at a bus stop waiting for something to turn up. We should be full of wonder at who we are November-December 2001 Macdonald ¯ Where Your Heart Is and what we have in Christ, and never take our identity primarily from people lacking the insight of faith. In Christ, who has "given you authority., over all the power of the enemy, and nothing will hurt you" (10:19), Satanic power can be successfully challenged. "Then, turning to the disciples, Jesus said to them privately, 'Blessed are the eyes that see what you see! . . . many prophets and kings desired to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it'" (10:2,3-24). Like John the Baptist, these people, for all their insight, could only prepare for or point to what the disciples were enjoying from within the company of Jesus. To those outside that company, his parables and teaching might be helpful stories to take or leave; but, for the "infants" around Jesus; these words reached both mind and heart and helped form their consciences as guides to life. There is much more for us to see if we "infants" develop genuine receptivity to and then realization of the gift of God in the risen Christ. Insofar as the wonder of that gift is ours, we will have the "stick-to-itive-ness," courage, and conviction to share .it with others on the jour-ney. We know that We are treasured by our risen Lord, and so we come to treasure him. He is where our heart is! For perhaps significant numbers of religious and would-be religious, it is asking too much to make more that a notional con-nection between words then and work now. The biblical word is respected, but even in generally literate societies words do not always communicate in depth, often because there are just too many of them to hold our attention. Yet, to this day in the his-tory of the church and consecrated life, Scripture has had an intrin-sic power which people have felt and which has energized for God some of the greatest evangelical witnesses. A contemporary vade mecum of consecrated life--P~'ta conse-crata-- points to Scripture as "the first source of all Christian spir-ituality." There is undoubtedly a wider awareness of this in recent .decades, but we may have some way to go before all of us have the view that "the primacy of holiness and prayer is inconceivable without a renewed listening to the word of God, . . . a life-giving encounter., which draws from the biblical text the living word which questions, directs, and shapes our lives" (§39). Only some-one like the Holy Father, speaking from experience of that back-ground and also very aware of the contemporary challenge to the gospel, could be convinced that, while "we do not know what the new millennium has in store for us,., we are certain that it is safe Revie't.v for Religious in the hands of Christ." (§35). The Lukan Jerusalem journey, approached from within that mindset, would produce a like conviction. Pope John Paul saw the pilgrims in Rome for Jubilee 2000 as representative of so many others, each individual reflecting "the story of someone whom Christ had met, and who in dialogue with him was setting out again on a journey of hope" (§8). As an older brother, perhaps, on the journey, he has learned from experience that, "if Christ is presented to young people as he really is, they experience him as an answer that is convincing and they can accept his message, even when it is demanding and bears the mark of the cross" (§9). This is why he does not hesitate to challenge and call on them "to make a radical choice of faith and life., a stupen-dous task; to become 'morning watchmen' (Is 21:11-12) at the dawn of the new millennium" (§9). Consecrated people, glimpsing Christ "as he really is" from the Gospel pages, might feel called to respond to that same challenge as they journey together, eager to share their delight in their risen Lord. "Remaining firmly anchored in Scripture, we open ourselves to the action of the Spirit" (§17), and who can say where that may lead us? Notes t John Henry Newman, Apologia pro Vita Sua (Longmans Green, 1890), p. 241. 2 Newman, Apologia, p. 242. 3 John Paul II, Apostolic Letter, Novo Millennio Ineunte, Rome, 6 January 2001. Numbers here and subsequently refer to paragraphs. 4 Walter J. Ciszek sJ, He Leadeth Me, repays rereading for an appre-ciation of faith today. through/be ~do~n! ~nd Cbri~tmo~ t~ b/~6~ing~ of ~oat'~ ~nt~dng into $ia creation in November-December 2001 church and MARIE BRINKMAN Criteria for Change: Women's Ministering to the Body of Christ ministry To search in the past for signs of a viable future for reli-gious women's communities is to reverse the usual order of things, but that is what I intend. I offer a rationale for searching there. I seek, however, not criteria for esti-mating outcomes of change, but rather the foundation made up of sisters' lives which itself takes the measure of other criteria and thus provides the framework for wise discernment. The dawn of a new millennium suggests radical change, much of it underway, yet brings from some quarters hints of probable demise. We know that, for the authors of the many articles and books on the present situation of religious men and women, the good of God's people is the primary concern. And we well know that, if religious communities are to survive, they will do so in response to that people's need and in fidelity to the gospel, particularly its radical counsels. These are any century's religious foundations and the basis for all reform and renewal. But, in the life of religious communities of women, what in particular urges their Marie Brinkman SCL presented this paper at the History of Women Religious Conference at Marquette University in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, in June 2001. She is a professor at Saint Mary College; 4100 South Fourth Street; Leavenworth, Kansas 6604-8. Review for Religious continuance? What characteristics should serve as norms for appropriate change, in the face of diminishing numbers, advancing median ages, and increasing opportunities for minis-tering to God's people in lay and secular life? In her hopeful assessment of a third-millennial future for women religious, Jo Ann Kay McNamara observes that sisters from the "young" African and Asian churches "are already in the process of changing their worlds as their foremothers in the West did for so many centuries." And she foresees "a larger global sisterhood" in which religious women of the West will revise their institutions and women of all cultures will devise new forms of rule, commu-nity, and ministry (pp. 643-644). Ways of envisioning and shaping such inevitabilities are what we must seek. In this regard Joel Giallanza csc asserts that "the quality and integrity of religious life as a sign of unity in the church for the future is direcdy related to the quality and integrity which religious life embodies today" (pp. 468-469). That quality and integrity must inform any criteria for discerning constructive change in community and ministry. When communities, particularly apostolic ones, revisit their charism (as Vatican documents on religious life have urged) and when they engage laypersons as associates (communal or profes-sional) in the realization of that charism, even in these charted waters they run risks described by Francis W. Danella OSFS. While believing that "efforts to recapture the spirit of the foundation have been the singularly most hopeful development in religious life since the council" (p. 266), Danella cites a major risk, that of failure to integrate individual needs and community priorities, personal growth and the common good. We might well add that it is a risk rooted in human nature that has become greater in the last three decades. It takes subtle forms that only habitual and rigorous spiritual discernment at every level of decision making and leadership can recognize. Mary Anne Foley CND, in her careful critique of two widely read works of the past decade, Ann Carey's Sisters in Crisis and Quifionez and Turner's Transformation of ,4merican Catholic Sisters, asks for continuing dialogue between the polarized constituencies studied by these authors (pp. 342-357). She acknowledges serious inadequacies attending the documentation of their views, but is convinced that nonetheless the Spirit speaks to us through one another, within our diverse limitations. Her most significant obser- November-December 2001 Brinkman ¯ Criteria for Chan~e The fundamental question before us, I think, is whether personal relationship to God, in its rhythm of continuing call and free response, has taken directions in the lives of religious women so concrete as to be guidelines for the future. vation, I think, follows a statement that Christian men and women have for centuries linked their lives to God by means of vows. She adds: "They have done this not., primarily as a witness to oth-ers, but because God has somehow reached into their lives, and so, in being true to themselves, they structure their lives around their rela-tionship to God" (my emphasis; pp. 351,356). She credits Edward Vacek sJ for the latter concept. Here we draw close to the source of continuity over two thousand years of religious commu-nity life, regardless of what reforms or renewals have attended it. The same source or cause will guarantee its contin-uance throughout another millennium. Michael Himes would call the source a radical poverty, an ultimate dependency that he says is "the key value in the vows" (p. 21). Joan Chittister would call it the ultimate commitment and radical atten-tiveness to the presence of God in every aspect of a vowed life. It is my contention, hardly'unique, that this centrality of God, this fact of personal relationship to God, realized and grasped as the origin and end of all resolve and purpose, and of all consequent rela-tionship and mission, is the efficacious cause of continuing life in religious com-munity. All change and adaptation, all forms of communal living and ministry that may develop, will be tested and must be evaluated by this criterion. But spiritual reality must take sensible form if it is to become a human measure of worth. As adaptations and innovations multiply, so do reports and projections. More significant are potentially prophetic voices that try to discern the Spirit in radical change and the reactions it pro-vokes. Few--scholars and prophets included--would presume to forecast the future with confidence. Some contemplate the end of our life as we have known it, or its evolution into confederations, syneisactic (Greek syneisdgein, to. bring in together) communities of mixed genders and terms of commitment, new monastic/apos- Review for Religious tolic arrangements, or vowed ministry within a church defined in nonhierarchical terms. The fundamental question before us, I think, is whether per-sonal relationship to God, in its rhythm of continuing call and free response, has taken directions in the lives of religious women so concrete as to be guidelines for the future--directions, in fact, so clear as to suggest qualities essential to the continuance and integrity of these women's communities. The limitation of aca-d

Issue 36.3 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edtted by faculty members of St Lores University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1977 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW 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. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May 1977 Volume 36 Number 3 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGZOUS; P.O. Box 6070~ Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW I~OR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-yard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Nomadic Love Rita Bernard Walton, S.S,J. Sister Rita Bernard resides at the Corpus Christi Convent; Sumneytown Pike and Supplee Rd.; Lansdale, PA 19446. :: Fpr centuries men have responded to a voice, a formless, faceless, nameless voice, a voice that pierced the inner depths like a fiery sword saying: "Come and see" (see Jn 1:35-51). To come and see is to come into Jesus, and to respond to the call is only to hear it repeated over, again and again, to _come deeper into Jesus. It means a lifetime of coming and a lifetime of seeing as one .surprise of.love follows another:in living in Jesus. The heart hears the silent language of Jesus' love that calls for acceptance. 'The acceptance of his love entails ac-cepting all the Lover is and~ all he gives. He gives himself in sacrament, in word,, in life. He reveals himself slowly with each love-touch and fills the soul with wonder at the awesome burden with which he impregnates it. ~In this prayer of love one is. urged to stand firm, to persevere in the gift of.,love in the sense that St. Paul urged the Thessalonians to stand firm: ,"Stand firm, then, brothers, and keep the traditions that we taught y0,u, whether by word of mouth or by letter" (2 Th 2: 15). "Standing firm" is a recognition of having been chosen, loved, formed and hollowed. It is a 'recognition of one's emptiness and fullness in Christ Jesus. To "stand firm" is to accept further the responsibility to love and be loved;~to be known and to,know the God who is. "Standing firm" is to be used, used as a reed on which he plays his tune. ~ Coming deep into this love with Jesus re~uires a lea.ring behind of all ~hat ,is self and, in some way, living within the heart the life of a nomad by abandoning oneself to the purpose~ of the Lord in an emptiness of spirit-- being a nomad without a desert other than the desert of life itself. This nomad 337 338 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 life whets the appetite for the fullness of the kingdom, a life fully embraced. The nomad life is a living in joy, a living wholly in the now. This great love renders one powerless and defenseless and 'one. feels the pain of the rendering. Such powerlessness allows God to be G6d, bring-ing to the lips a prayer for an increase of faith which enkindles hope and which builds further the great fire of love. In this love-prayer, the~desire to pray and prayer itself are planted in the heart of one's being by the God of ¯ love. As the desire is nurtured, the heart of one's being grows and ~.the cycle of life in prayer develops. It is recognized as the Lord's gift. This writer invites the reader at this point to place himself or herself in the sandals of the nomad and let the following speak directl3)' td you. Come and see, Nomad. The nomad carries little. The nomadic lover carries little, too, for this lover must pass through love's gate as through the eye of the needle, free of encumbrances and the excess baggage of self-love. As nomadic lover you go through the doorway of Jesus as yourself~ as a real person. You go with Jesus' to go through Jesus into Jesus more deeply,, realizing so de.eply that Jesus is in you filling you with so much love. Loving is what living is all about. Living the love of Jesus is allowing the fruit of hislove to be'~plucked while it is ripe and rich. Following Jesus in nomadic love leads you to a still point. A still .point is a further death to self. Freed of the baggage and clutter of ~elf-will, hands are emptied to embrace the Will of the Father, the Cross of-Jesus, the Gifts of the Spirit. This still point is an intense grace of being~known, and being filled with an unknown kind of knowing God in his Oneness and Trinity of Persons. Reaching, or being brought to this still point of love is like passing through the turmoil of a storm and no longer being in .the path of its destruction, but aware of it and aware of being held at the center of calm only by his grace. It is an experience of an overwhelming sense .of quiet joy where your being sings an endless, wordless song of silent praise. Nomadic love extends you and develops all the facets of yourself, and then it changes you. You become a new self with all the old facets"refined. 'You come to a point where you hardly know yourself, and yet you do, more deeply than you did before. If the Beloved allows you to see yours.df"vfith his eyes you see a sight of beauty, surprising beauty. What you see is so grace-laden and love-filled that your heart responds again in silen(, ioyful song to the love and the Lover who has made you this way. You know that all this grace and beauty are his gift to your creature-self. It is yours to 'rejoic( in, to use and to give away~ When you return to your owns, seeing, you find you are the same, but not the same. You have been held b~y Love unaware of space and time and you somehow know that you hold a inystery~ and are held by Mystery. The nomadic lover has thus rested in th~ sweet oasis of love. ' Soon, however, the nomad is stirred from the oasis-rest .by th~ silent Nomadic Love / 339 voice the heart has come to know. "Rise, cla~p my hand, and come!" ("The Hound of Heaven," by Francis Thompson). "Yes" becomes the word on your lips and the journey continues. Now the desert stretches dry ahead and its night settles in like a winter season. The fruit and the comfort and rest of an oasis are not in sight, but the memory of them warms your heart. All is silent within and without, and the nomad must stand firm in the silence as would a silent sentinal. The treasure of love must be guarded within the heart. As nomadic lover in the desert night you know, you be-lieve~ you trust in the touchless Lover who is with you, who encircles you with his love. A nomadic lover prays: I cannot walk, my Love, I cannot walk alone. I must be led, or carried. I cannot trust myself, my own sense of direction. I must let myself be lost as it were, with no map or seeable route on this journey in faith and trust and love with You. My Love, I depend solely on You and Your guidance with no desire other than the desire to be Yours. You p!ace in shadow all that has been familiar during this journey with You. The oasi~ of Your gifts and consolaiions is lost ¯ in the darkness of this desert night in order to test my love for You alone. My~ Love, I ask for the grace of receptivity. Open me to the greatness of desiring You . for Yourself alone. ".Rise, clasp my hand, and come!" ("The Hound of Heaven"). So, once again Nomad, you hear yourself asked to "come and see" mindful you are nomad by invitation; that the journey is a gift and that you do not "stir love until its appo~inted time" (Song of Songs 2:7). Grassroots Sisters Today: Calvary People? Anawim? Marie Emmanuel, S.C. Sister Marie Emmanuel, though retired otficially, icontinues to exercise an extensive apostolate through her writings. She resides at Mount St. Joseph, OH 4505.1. No writer can speak from her heart unless wha( she says is consciously directed to a well-defined group of readers. Even a g!ance at the topic sentences of the following paragraphs, for example, would indicate that this article would "turn off" religious caught up in the urgencies' of seeking self-fulfillment, of 'being recognized as a person, of securing independence, and of embracing a life-style which has much more in common with that of a career girl or married woman than with that of the traditional religious of ten or fifteen years ago. And these same pages would probably read like something from outer space to the few fortunate religious in whose com-munities wholesome, holy religious life has somehow managed to survive experimentation. The vast majority of American sisters, however, belong to neither of these groups. They are the typical religious of our decade the thoiasands who look with aching hearts on what mistaken attempts at renewal (a renewal too often not rooted in a primary interest in the things of God!) have done and are doing to their corrimunities, and to religious life itself as they can see it. Their cause is seldom taken up by the religious press or cham-pioned by speakers; yet they are the ones who are holding the line for Christ. They know what their Lord was asking of them when he called them to their community--and they know what they gave. him on their vow day. Integrity permits them to dilute neither his divine requests nor their giving. These are the religious who must be assured that their questioning is being heard, that their Calvary is understood, and that, if they have but faith, their fears for religious life itself will be quieted by the same dear 340 Grassroots Sisters Today:~ Calvary People? Anawim? / 341 Christ who answered the frightened apostles in the tempest-tossed boat on Galilee: "O ye of little faith, why do you doubt?" Not even the hardiest can deny, of course, that hurricanes have been buffeting religious life for a decade or more, and that unprecedented winds and waves have sadly battered the bark of those who follow the evangelical counsels. There is no question here of the exaggerated fears of timid souls. Too many facts corroborate 'the ~threats, too many experiences bolster appre-hension. All one need do to be convincedis read, watch and listen. " See whathas happened in our day to the observance of poverty and obedience! And often not even chastity survives at least not envisioned as an espousal relationship with Christ, a concept which, iust a short time ago, was. generally accepted as basic to the vow. Silence no more has a place in most Interim Directives; prayer has become largely a completely personal matter, with sometimes not even the offi~ze or rosary said in com-mon; and the whole concept of community living is under attack. One does not have to be a seer to be aware that in some congregations goals, aposto- ,lares, and life-style have been so revolutionized that even the most recent of founders would be hard put to recognize their own! Administrators of certain large American communities, for example, seeing membership plummeting and the median age rapidly rising, have °already experimented with the idea of extending membership to anyone who wishes to live with the sisters, "regardless of sex, religious affiliation or marital status." In some religious houses such~ extended membership is already an accepted fact. At a meeting of formation personnel late in 1975, one young director told her audience (and was immediately quoted in metro-politan and diocesan newspapers) that her community had "already opened its doors to such .applicants, among them a married woman, a divorcee, and a woman whose husband is in Europe." These people, she assured her hearers, "share the life and home of the sisters and are regarded as mem-bers, not as guests; employees or volunteers." In order to supplement recruitment, other congregations have accepted girls who came with the avowed intention of staying just for a year or two, although canon law has stipulated that candidates may not enter on a temporary basis, that they must have the iiatention of remaining or at least the hope of determining their permanent vocation by honest trial. We hear,. too, of young religious who, though they may have entered with the inten-tion of remaining, are now reluctant to maki~ any permanent commitment and are being permitted to stay on indefinitely, despite canonical strictures, merely making temporary "promises" over and over. Yet though membership is being supplemented in such unorthodox ways, genuine religious vocations in America have dwindled to almost nothing. Vineyards entrusted to us by the Church are abandoned for works of our own choosing; conx;ents stand empty in the midst of fields white for the harvest, and the tragic exodus of professed sisters "back to the world" con- 342 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 tinues, though God knows that some motherhouses have few, except the aged, left. A further tragedy lies in the fact that those who remain tend to fall into groups so diverse in their reactions to experimentation that the attainment of consensus in basic areas becomes impossible. There are the sisters of all persuasions, liberal and conservative, who are content with the status quo as they meet it; there are the crusader.s, dissatisfied with the ."inadequacy" of experimentation as they see ,it initiated, and dedicated to revamping re-ligious life now to conform to what they consider relevant to today's world. And then there is the army of ordinary sisters down at the grassroots who have suffered shock after shock as they were subjected to innovations (allegedly designed to make them more relevant, more self-fulfilled, and more libera.ted, but which have a~:tually proven incompatible with their ideals of religious life) who are now openly seeking answers to the disturb-ing questions which haunt them. "What is going to become of religious life?" they ask in desperation akin to that of the apostles, when their small boat was. storm-tossed that night on Galilee. "Will,it someday be impossible in my community to live the life I v6wed? What will be left of religious life when all this experimen-tation is officially ended?" Before sisters consider the future of their own communities in the light of such questi0.ns, it is logical that a prognosis for religious~ life itself be attempted. Is it dying? Is it still relevant? A number of current books study the topic from various points of view, but the Vatican II Fathers .have already settled all doubts in ~this regard bY the place in the modern Church which they assigned to religious. A dying group would scarcely be commissioned, as religious were in the Constitution on the Church, to ,"stren.gthen the kingdom in soul~, and extend it to every clime." And who is relevant to our confused, anguished world if not those to whom the council, in the same document, entrusted the needy of that world? "Religious should carefully consider that through them, to believers and unbelievers alike, (he Church wishes to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ," decreed the Council Fathers. "Through them, Christ should be seen contemplating on the mountain, announcing God's kingdom to the multitude, healing the sick and maimed,, turning sinners to wholesome fruit, blessing children, doing good to all, and always obeying the will of the Father who sent them." There is not one .sufferer among all those who throng our streets, or whose stories are blazoned in, the daily press or pictured on TV, who does not fit into one of the categories listed by the Council as being charges of today's religious. There is no human need, spiritual or temporal, which has not been confided to our charity in our own time by Holy Mother Church herself. Therein lies our blueprint of relevance. Father Thomas iDubay, contemporary writer on living the evangelical Grassroots Sisters Today." Calvary People? Anawim? / 343 counsels, states: "The religious life belongs inseparably to the Church's life and holiness . Periodically, in the history of the Church, someone is likely to prophesy the death of religious-life. Our day is no exception. Yet so closely bound up with evangelical perfection are consecrated virginity, voluntary poverty and ecclesial obedience, that to predict the disappearance of religious life is to assert the irrelevance of the gospel. The profession of the evangelical counsels may decline, through human weaknesses, but dis-appear it willnot.''~ Yet, notwithstanding such assurances, sisters confide that try as they will to tell themsel~,es that all will be right, they cannot shut their eyes~to what is happening in many communities. "Is it unreasonable," they ask, "to wonder how I can trust, when I know how convent walls have tumbled down since the '60's, destroyed not by enemies of the Church but by con-secrated women who are .apparently casting aside the very.essentials of religious life so as to grasp the best of two vocations without assuming the responsibilities of either? How can I"even hope that I will always be a nun, when I see congregations once flourishing and fervent actually falling apart or so revolutionized as to be unrecognizable?" Of course, there are no pat answers, as there are no pat answers for other questions'which vex us today. But Peter and his companions were expert sailors, and they had seen other vessels go down in squalls on Galilee like the one they were battling. Yet Christ rebuked them that night for their lack of faith when they were apprehensive. He did not tell them how to ride out the storm, he gave them no practical directives. But he did reassure them. "Fear not!" he said. And he did calm the winds and the buffeting waves, and bring his friends Safe to.shore. Suppbse their boat had sunk in the storm. Can we doubt that our Lord would have saved his 6wn; so that they still might, become the Spirit-driven anawim who were to establish his Church? That should tell us something! And there are many other gospel stories.~which'can set our troubled hearts at rest. This is a goodtime to remember~Bethany, for example; we who are frightened by what the future may hold have Christ's own word that our "best part"-~will never be taken away from us. In,another passage he gives us his solemn assurance that he will be with us always, and that whatever we ask in.prayer will be given us;, even to" feats like moving mountains! He reminds us that we did not choose him; it was he who called us. Dare we insinuate that-he was trifling with our hearts in making that invitation on our vow day? No, the circmfistances surrounding our aposto-lates may indeed be drastically altered, but our consecration to Christ no one no one--can take from us! Right now many mature religious stand onCalvary. We try to assure ourselves, perhaps, that faith and hope demi~nd that we look forward to a 1Ecclesial Women, by Thomas Dubay, 'S.M. (New York: Alba House, 1970). 344 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 glorious Easter, when resurrection joy and peace will fill our hearts again. That Easter will come. But ~hould we begin to face the possibility that we, personally, may never see its glad dawning? Maybe our little boat won't survive this. tempest! What if our community becomes so debilitated or so revolutionized that it no longer is our.community? Do we love Christ so much that we can offer ourselves, in that event, to become his anawim, the remnant beloved by God, who will somehow continue to carry on his work in and for a world which hungers for him while it rejects him? That may well be what he is asking of us now. If this should happen and we find our 'institutes rapidly losing all re-semblance to the dream of evangelical perfection which God gave our founders and to which he called us, we can find comfort, first of all, in knowing that religious life, itself will never die. That is where faith and hope lead us today. Isn't that, perhaps, where they leave many of.us, too? Let's admit it: we, at least we sisters in America, may well be Calvary-people all our lives. But .wasn't that what our Lord was? The shadow of the Cross touched everything he looked on, and Easter came only after the final agony of the crucifixion. "Fear not.t" Our Lord is saying to us. Even though this congregation or that is shaken, religious life will always flower somewhere in the Church, and no sister will ever be dispensed ]rom perpetual vows unles~ she herselI .has chosen, in some way, to cancel her commitment to the God who loves her with an everlasting love. 'We must remember that when things look black, when maybe even our own beloved community may seem'to be racing toward disaster.~, We must hang onto the fact, too, that "retreat masters and others in a position to see and judge are finding rainbows arcing over motherhouses here and there, where experimentation has not only. been lived through but is reaping a golden harvest of renewal. True, such blessed communities doubtless still have their respective cordons of dissidents unhappy because changes haven't been radical enough, but interested now in the ordination of women, in 'political jobs~ or~ in being, vocal on controversial theological questions. Their current involvement in topics beyond the jurisdiction of their communities leaves the body of the, membership free to yield. ;to the Spirit, and to concentrate on intensive, broadly-varying spiritual programs, which one priest-director tells me are proving "an astonishing purification, a genuine spiritual renewal, and a happy return to the ideals of the foun-ders" of several communities with whom he is in contact. How heartened many grassroots sisters should be by rumors of such rainbows, which indicate that for some religious at least, the storm is over for the time and the Paschal Sun is shining! There are communities, too, which have never lost their balance, but which, despite growing pressures, have managed to adhere t,o their self-definition and to maintain the life of the counsels as their founders would Grassroots Sisters Today: Calvary People? Anawim? / 345 have it lived at present. They are the ones (believe it or not!) who are be-ing sought out by young women who want just what these communities will give them. The same retreat master I quoted before confided that one such community with which he works "is swimming with postulants and novices, bright and lively young things who enter precisely because of the habit; who are genuinely (if youthfully) in earnest about learning the spirit of their congregation and (and through) the spirit of their founder." So even if, in our corner of the world, the eclipse still leaves us groping in dark and cold, we can rejoice that somewhere the sun is shining again on happy, holy novitiates and on burgeoning religious life. We can rejoice, too, that our way of-life is a good way; despite the odds against us, we do contribute to the holiness of the Church! And it is a relevant way. Millions of people contact God today because sisters still live and work among them. So if our particular corner of the vineyard is languishing, we must simply put our hand into the hand of Christ and trust him to use us as he will. Through an ordeal.like this, our consciences should reassureus that we are not disloyal because we can foresee local debacles resulting from ill-ad-vised changes in the very basics of~religious life. As mature religious we can-not help but be aware that congregations which cut themselves free from their moorings an the Church and dispose of authority, vows, silence, community prayer and the common life with fine, dispatch, are no longer offering their members the type of life the.y vowed to follow: There is no disloyalty here. No, it is love for the life to which Christ calls us that prompts us to challenge attemis°ts at renewal which have gotten out of hand. The pro~ing questions one hears now on all 'sides should alert the powers that be to the fact that definitely all is not well. Before it is too late, those influential in community affairs throughout the country should take inventory to see wfiether religious, life, as they are manipulating it, can flourish and bear the fruit God expects. Only a prayerful, serious evaluation by those supposedly in authority can dete~rmine for any congregation whether experimentation is sanctifying its members or secularizing them, meeting the needs of their assigned apostolates or merely working toward human goals or personal self-fulfillment. That some groups will not see the necessity for such reconsideration is a sad commentary on the problem. It is good, therefore, that individual sigters are not closing their eyes to what is being done, that we at last are asking serious qui~stions and seeking honest answers. We are not discountenancing faith and hope when we admit that we think it possible that our partiqular vineyards may someday lie in ruins. Rather, our faith and hope could never be fairer .than when we watch our dear garden-places transformed into alien desert and yet hold fast to Christ, confidefit of his love, ready to take up our interrupted apos-tolat~ wherever he wants us to be and to do whatever he may send us to do, even if that is just to suffer and pray for the harvest which we may no longer have an opportunity to plant or gather in. Symbols.'. Signs. and the Times Jane Marie Kerns, S.H.C.J. Sister Jane Marie is engaged in development work. curriculum planning and public relations at Cornelia Connelly High School; 2323 W. Broadway; A~aheim, CA 92804. _~er degree is in the field of sociology. Technically speaking,' says S. R. Wilson, signs are not symbols. Signs are perceptible m~inifes~ations which point to a condition present or to come because they flow from the ultihaate reality underlying the sign. In this sense signs are revelatory because the natural objects involved are ]as in-trinsic~ illy related to the ~:eality underneath as the smell of an onion is to the onion itself. For example, hot forehe'ad, weakness, perspiration and chills signify fever. Signs, in thig sense, cross cultural barriers of language and fl~ish essentially the identical message-content to all who can read the signs. At some point in history the acctimulated wisdom of a l~eople unravels the mystery behind the sign and passes on the same m.essage from generation to generation. Thus signs are stable in content because that which we~ per-ceive bears an unalterable and peculiar relationship to the reality wtii~zh is present or coming to be. Symbols are different. They are arbitrary things which are invested with 1Sociologists, in developing the implications of symbolic interaction, have made some distinctions between sign and symbol that differ markedly from the'more traditional scholastic terminology contrasting natural and conventional signs. For example, Berger and Luckmann in The Social Construction o! Reality speak.of "detachability" as a characteristic of all signs and sign systems while symbols are any significative themes achieving maximum detachability by reason of their being located in one sphere of reality but referring to ahother. A far simpler presentation by S R. Wilson has generated a line of thought that can be applied to the contemporary religious scene with some profit for us if we are willing to follow up his line of thought"with some applications made on our own. 346 Symbols. Signs . . . and the Times / 347 a tempbrary message by consensus of the group which employs the symbol. Symbols are the shorthand which capsulizes a larger"concept, perhaps an abstract one--the cryptography which presupposes that the users share the meaning so fully'that they can afford to reduce it to a kind of code word, that beStows brevity without sacrificing richness. There need not be any necessary connection between the choice of an object to act as symbol and the content of the message.Symbols are temporary: time-bound~ timely,, tied to. context so they lose their significance or are invested with new meanings in new times. How fickle symbols can be is well exemplified'by the quirk of fate that transmuted .Churchill's gallant V-for-victory hand salute into the peace symbol of the 1960's. Signs are natural, unequivocal, independent "of time and place an~l ¯ language, Symbols are culture;bound, subject to misinterpretation by the uninitiated and to re-interpretation by succeeding in-groups, long- or short, lived depending on the consistency of the ,sub-culture that employs them. Perhaps some reflection on this distinction, between sign and symbol can shed light, on:,one of the dilemmas facingreligious today. We religious have tried abruptly 'to change our symbol ~ystem and we find often enough that We have lost our sign value in the world., of today, We changed 9ur dress to relate more easily to the world of the ~twentieth century. Removing a barrier did not automatically create a sign 6f the Lord present among us. We chose the symbol system of modern womanhood .and sometimes found ourselves comfortably bunched .in with all the other .bananas. The public we served was not interpretifag our symbolic action as we meant it to be. And we are forced to recognize that the dress we donned and the veil we doffed were only symbol--not sign, not natural,.cross,cultural., unequivocaI expression of what .is or what is to come--:-only symbol, 9nly thingg subject tO misinterpretation, 'time-bbund even for us who made the gesture of changing the symbolmand ambivalent;~ even,~ to the ~degree. that not all religious~would agree on the what. and the why of the gesture. By and large our people are complimentary 'and comfortable with our new look, yet amid a growing congeniality we. have lost some of the eschatological sign value that should be ours. Why? I, Hazarding guesses is hazardous and it is;my guess that an understanding of signs and symbols can shed some light. If we understood how 'a society creates .a symbol, if we understood how a group learns toread a sign, .per-haps we could appreciate the impact of. context on communication. Accurate identification of the "things': we use to present ourselves depends on the context in which we use them. Think of ~ome "symbols" we have adopted in the last few years: There are religious who see denim as denoting fellow-ship with the poor, But with the escalation of the denim fashion' parade, to many people denim speaks of the radical chic, the young affluent who chooses to dress down, the professional would-be college kid revolting against .white shirts and starched,collars. To many, "fellowship" with a 348 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 "groovy" bunch in.~faded cut-offs has no religious connotations whats6ever. We want to say simplicity of life-style; they hear over-age college set gone "mod." Unwittingly, there is growing up a garbled version of the Fountain of Youth myth where what we wanted to hand on was the Good News about the Fountain of Living Waters which springs up in men of faith. Our~ sym-bols aren't bad; it's just that we exist in a cultural context which colors the interpretation of symbols "due to circumstances beyond our control . " We are talking about the fact that we can't control the whole configura-tion of life that put denim (or its equivalent) into a context in which it will be understood by those who see the same symbol system used to convey a different message. We human beings acting in concert unconsciously invest symbols with meaning 6nly in context. + can mean Christianity or + can mean add it all depends on what goes with it. It's the nature of symbol to be tied to other people's mentality. Let me" push the notion of symbols-in-context a bit further. In some ways symbols are .like bumper stickers~ That is, they are "one-liners", that punch out a limited message about one aspect of a question or point of view--concise, catchy, incontrovertible as far as they go. But when we are talking about the sign value of religious in their mission of revelation, we find that we aren't able to frame the essential message and crop off all the peripheral or block out all the other things we do and are. Hence, our symbols are never seen except in a broader context of the configuration of our whole lives. Let's think a little then about configuration. Have you ever pondered the variety of countenances .the Lord has fashioned out of the simple set of major elements such as two eyes, a nose, a mouth, some small degree of color in the eyes, some minor variations-- all within the magnitude of an inch or less--in the spacing of these ele-ments, the alignment of them, and so forth? Fantastic how .little he had to work with and yet how totally unique are the billions of faces that inhabit the universe! And all ~.because the particular configuration of similar ele-ments so alters the' finished product! How marvelous is the import of the configuration in which a single pair of blue eyes is set in defining the unique profile of a German lass as opposed to a California coed! Taken separately all the major elements of their countenances could be identical. Only the final configuration gives the identity to each as a unique person. Something like that is true of our symbol systems. When we changed our bleak habit woolens for blue denim or for fashionable fabrics and styles, we also re-arranged a thousand seemingly unrelated parts of the mosaic Called life-styles. Visits to hairdressers, pierced ears, cosmetics, jewelry, stereo sets in our rooms, guitars under our arms, weekends at the beach or skiing in the mountains, ten-speeds, dining out when pressures mount, happy hours and wine-and-cheese-get-togethers--all the places we went and the things we did in our new dress. And gradually we blended with the Every Woman in tune with the times--and lost any aura of the "otherness" of Symbols . . . Signs . . . and the Times / 349 the woman in touch with the Lord. It is frustrating and confusing since there is nothing wrorig with any of the items taken separately, nothing that could not serve as a ~,ehicle for inserting the message of the Lord into the modern context. Yet, unfortunately, the gap between intentions and outcome is real, if we'dare tell it as it is. So what can we do in such a dilemma? Retreat to our pre,Vatican II existence? . How dare we even consider such a move--we who have been called by. the Lord in his Church to seek ever new ways to bring his .same truth to our age? ~ . I believe that there are several lines of action open to us. First, and perhaps the easiest to admit, we must recognize.that a private symbol sys-tem whose true message is known only to ourselves is a useless tool for communication. Hence, in our recognition ~of the public nature of the sym-bols we choose to employ, we must be attentive to the feedback from those around us, the feedback that comes in the form of spoken criticism or spoken praise, and also the feedback that comes in the form of a vacuum-- the indication that we aren't, even noticed~ This isr not so easy since it implies that if we listen and respond'just to, those who catch the message, it might be we are only speaking to our in-group. Openness to criticism and willing-ness to. vary our approach is the on13~ way that will. make our knowledge of de facto social interpretation of symbols work for the good we yearn to. do. Apropo.s., algo, is the need for a discerning spirit that can ferret out the essence of a critical remark and that has no fear to dare to be different if the difference is where, it really: counts--difference, because our fundamental orientation even in choosing fashionable clothes, and so forth, is utterly other. For the sake of the kingdom, for the sake of those around me, for the sake of my apostolic effectiveness I choose to use the things I use; for ¯ their ability to extend my vital concerns outward, not just for their ability to enhance me. From .the apostolic point of view ~vhat my symbol system says to. those around rn"e is:more important than what it"says to me as long as"it is genuine. , A second direction in which to focus our attention is on the mutability (as w~ll as .f.allibility) of any~ symbol which derives from the other mean-ings conferred on the "things" we use or do by other people whose message differs from ours. '~We can always afford to bend and 'blend and experiment with our symbol system in order to keep it 'up-to-date. Indeed, we must be alert to those circumstances beyond our control which render any system obsolete or .misleading--changing customs, .changing values in some areas of life, changing vocabulary. Even semaiatics can' cause a loss of utility in a given form of expression. Knowing' the difference between what is essential and what is merely an arbitrary, ,though well-chosen, form of expression is an art capable of infusing life ,into the means we use to contact the world around us; The art of choosing wisely, rests largely on the nature of what we.try to signify. How can we speak to men of our God who is so utterly 350 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 other? What has holiness to say to a modern world? What can communicate spirit to flesh:and-blood men of today?. As men and nations,~scramble tO get, what words speak of giving.'? And what can emptying oneself to put:.on Christ say to empty men who have lost .their own identity? When thinking men unite to feed the world's hungry because 'the survival of all ultimately depends on the wise sharing of resources, how does one say that enlightened self'interest isn't enough? For a task of this magnitude, perhaps symbol .is the wrong tool. Maybe we can't rely~on a form of "shorthand" for all that the Christian message means to us. Perhaps we have to strive; to explicate our message--impress it more fullythrough expressions revelatory, :flo~ving from the essential reality of life in Christ. Earlier we spoke of the smell of an onion as peculiar to the. reality that is the onion. Substitute perfume to the rose if you prefer, but that is just how specific our expression should be to what 'it is we're trying to communicate! Perhaps sign is called for-- natural, unequivocal, universal harbinger of 'what is or what is to come. Sin~:e whatever we do can be so easily mis-read by a generation that rarely reflects deeply, our?language" (spoken, body, symbol) must be one that is unequivocal, timelessly true, inextricably bound up with the nature of what we communicate. Our "language" must be sign of what is or what is to come. We can only hope to sign the Lord to the world if we ourselves can be the living revelation of~God present among us, actuating what we are. When we so live in the presence of God that his thoughts have become ours, his con-cerns, outs, we can hope that the vitality of his life in us will speak to"men of Someone else, just as Jesus invariably led people beyond himself to ". the~Father who sent me; the Father himself loves you. ; if you knew me you would know the Father also . . . the words I speak are not mine but the Father's; . as my F~'ther sent me so I also . ; I do always what the Father command~ . . . ; I must be about my Father'S' business~. ; I will ask the Father and he will send you the Paraclete . . . ; whatever you ask for in my name that I will do so that the Father may be glorified in the Son . , . ; the world must: be brought to know .that I love the Father. ; I call you friends because I have made known to you everything I have learned from myFather." It was when Jesus said. to his own, "I came from the Father,and have come into the world and now I leave the world to go to the ,Father," that his men replied at long last, "Now you are: speaking clearly . because of this we believe that you came from God.,." (Jn 16:28-31.). Hardly can we expect to be heard by our world tif we are less specific! Hardly do we ~dare to be so specifi!! Yet. I doubt that there is one of us who has,not in prayer thrilled to the vocation that is ours and marveled that God should choose to use us as a means of revealing and witnessing to his presence in the world. We believe--and yet . We shall never be able to offer our people more than fickle symbols until it becomes "natural" for us to perceive and Symbols . . . Signs . . . and the Times / 351 to speak of ourselves as signs that God is present and coming~ Our work for the poor may appear to be just the fad of generous adolescence or neo-humanism in action unless we are in fact coming from God and drawing our people to God. Angry activists can demand' prison reform as effectively as we and still remain atheists'. To what am I signing on the picket lines or in the classroom? Many good men grow whole from their repulsion over human suffering. Ft. George Aschenbrenner, in his article, "Hidden in Jesus Before the Father" (REviEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Jan., i975), spoke of the healing ministry of Jesus as springing from his vision of the holiness of God. So, too, for us philanthropy is not enough, It is significant that a woman of~ our times renown for her ministry of healing has had her story told to the world under the title, Something Beauti[ul for God. Mother Theresa undoubtedly comes to her poor as one sent ~by God to lead them on to him. Her meaning is unequivocal, its con-tent crosses language barriers and surmounts limitations of time and place. She is indeed a signto all of.the presence of God in his creation. But how was she different? She adapted the dress and the practices of religious life to the customs of India; so have we striven to meet America in the twentieth century. What more is there to it? . ' Perhaps it isosomehow or other connected with her approach to the first major work that .she undertook: her concern for the dying, the terminally ill; the cases that most of the hospitals there would not accept today be-cause there is nothing-that can be gained from medical treatment, there is no hope of recovery: . . . There is an element in her preoccupation with the dying that shouts aloud that dying is not the end, that even a dying man is worthy of respect and love and concern. Hers was an attitude-in-action which pointed a reality present in he~r and pre~sent in her world of the dying that could only mean that death~was not what it seemed to be to the masses who passed by the dying beggar in the streets. The reality alive in the center of her being revealed itself in act and attitude peculiar to those who know the God and Father of Jesus Christ. She was indeed a sign of God present in his world. Mother Theresa shows~us that it is possibleto be a sign in the world. What she stands,.for speaks internationally of humanity's ability, to stand 'before the experience of the Holy. Even more exciting, what she is and has become for our age is the revelation~that a person~who is sign doesn't sim-ply point out statically something that has .happened to her or him but rather that such a sign enables the beholder to experience the Holy for him'- self. It not only'allows man to~'think about God, but it activates an en-counter between God ands.the beholder. Our interpretation of the sign be-comes experiential, not simply intuitional or cognitive. I believe that the authentic Christian witness offered by Mother Theresa and her co-workers demonstrates, by the grace of God, the essential ele-ments of signs in an eminent degree. The grace which incorporates one into 352 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 the very life of Jesus enables a human life to be a natural revelation of the supernatural reality that is present and coming: Man's. experience of the Holy as it radiates through, the person and personality of another chal-lenges with the unequivocal demand to "take off your shoes" in ~ome fashion. The call to respond is universal, that is, it °cries out to hearts of men of every tongue, time or religious .traditi0n---assuming their hearts have been initiated into the mystery of God. And there is nothing in the configura-tion of his life~style to confuse or to cloud or to bury the sign under a bushel basket. ': We know that the same grace of God confers p6tential sign value on us all, even beyond the extent.to which we surrender to its gentle usurpation of our natural self. We may need to study our lives to perceive the dynamic of their configuration. We can scrutinize what we do with our time,, what we talk about, what we expend our energies on, what delights us, what we do with our free time, what .people we interact With most often--~and why. What do people ,bring to us as topics of conversation and as cause for concern? Not just what are the ice-breakers, but what are~ the substantive issues? Or .are there any substantive issues?,, Is it just fashion~talk, hair styles, and where are the best sales, what restaurants do we like, what about the latest recording artists, what team will win the World Series, what shows are worth seeing, what books are topping the Best Sellers lists? As well.educated women and well-rounded persons, we ought to be capable and to be intrigued .by exploring all facets of the contemporary scene.Yet there is incumbent upon us always the urgency of the prophet: A voice commands: Cry! and 1 answered, "What shall I cry?. Shout with a loud voice, joyful messenger . Shout without fear, "Here is your God." (Is 40:6-9) If we spend a day without ever mentioning our God to our world; if we: converse wisely about everything else but not about the Cent6r of our lives; if for a day, and days and a day, we apply psychology and economics and political :science and medicine and pedagogy in the. healing of hearts and the enabling of those striving to break out of bondage of any sort, it well may be that we present ourselves as professional personswho can live without any practical application of our religious profession. Then it is un-derstandable that the totality of the configuration of our daily lives obscures the sign and justifies our world's propensity for reading us according to the symbol system in vogue where we are. Our anomaly gtems not from our doing anything wrong and not from our not doing anything .at all, but just from the fact that our peculiar blend of actions~and attitudes islso familiar to our people that we fail to communicate the otherness of God. ~Where Jesus is the song sung softly all day long in the hearts of his own who are called to witness to him in this day and age, the most appropriate Symbols . . . Signs .,°and the~ Times / 353 exhortation might be "Preach what you practice." In terms of this article that could be translated to mean, "Find the ways--the signs, the symbols, the. emphases in the particular blend of attitudes and activities that are our life--(to say we come) from an inner experience of the God who is present and who continuously is coming." In this sign surely we shall conquer! NoW Available, As: A Reprint,, Colloquy of God with a Soul That Truly Seeks Him ,Address: Price: ~;.30 per opy,~ 161us post~ige.' Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand '~ St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Reflections on Vowed Living1 Claire Brissette, S,S.Ch. Sister Claire. a graduate of the Center for the Study of Spirituality at the Institute of Man, Duquesne University, is engaged in ongoing formation work in her province, working with sisters primarily at the local community level. She resides at 297 Arnold St.; Wrentham. MA 02093. More than a decade ago, the Church, speaking officially through the Vatican Council, invited and challenged religious throughout the world to re-evaluate their institutional structures and to re-examine their~ lives in light of gospel values and the spirit of their founders. For most congregations and most religious men and women, the spiri~t of Vatican II soon became crystallized in the phrase "renew and°adapt." During the years immediately following the council, we opened the windows of our lives and hearts to let in the fresh air and warm sunshine of renewal chapters', of .'revised Acts of the Chapter, of experiments in life-style~ community living, apostolate and forms of prayer. We questioned the structures and values of religious liv-- ing all in a sincer~ effort to ~:espond to the dictates of Vatican II. Through- 1This article is an integration of personal reflections from various sources. In listing these sources, it is difficult to distinguish Where their thought ends and where mine-begins. I wish to acknowledge my gratitude to each of these authors and speakers for their insight which fias stimulated my own integrative reflection. Besides the publica-t'ions listed in the bibliography, the following workshops have also influenced the con-tents of this article: "The Life of the Counsels" given by Thomas Walsh, S.J. and ~Bernadette Casey, R.S.M. at the Diocesan Spiritual Life Center in Pawtucket, RI on Feb. 28-29, 1976; "Fashioning the Future,of Vowed Commitment" a ten day workshop given at Mt. Augustine, Staten Island, NY, during which nine nationally known speak-ers, m turn, provided input on a specific vow. Appreciation also goes to Susah Muto, Assistant Director of the Institute of Man,, Duquesne University, Pittsburgh, for her helpful suggestions regarding the final draft, Of th~is a~rt!cle. 354 Reflections on 'Vowed Living / 355 Out this period of painful searching, we sought to discover the Spirit of the Lord guiding us through the confusion and turmoil of the~renewal. In more recent years, as~the initial turmoil has begun to subside, we have found ourselves facing and grappling with one of the deeper issues of the renewal, the meaning of our vows. Because of the :legalism that charac-terized our pre-Vatican II way of life, the meaning and living out of our. v6ws was often limited to external structures and rules. As many of these were put aside, and greater emphasis was placed on personal fulfillment and community living, poverty, celibacy and obedienc( seemed to fade into the background. We were no longer certain of (heir meaning_nor of their relevance forpost-Vatican religious life:' As we begin to take a new look at the meaning of our vowed consecration, the living of our vows is gradually emerging as the concrete expression of a personal love relationship with the Lord. In reflecting upon vowed living, 1 would like to elaborate upon the meaning of our love relationship with God, as well as on the meaning of each vow in light' of this love. Vowed Living: A Relationship of Love: A clue to the inner attitude of love which lies at the heart of our vowed living, may be found in the book of the Prophet Jeremiah:Experiencing an inner crisis, Jeremiah speaks of God rather boldly and directly, as he says, "You have seduced me, Yahweh, and I have let myself be seduced; you have overpowered me: you were the stronger" (Jr 20::7). Perhaps oi, too, living a way of life that seems absurd to our superficial world, .can address these same words to God. I can look back into my life, and perhaps remem-ber the moment I was seduced by God, the moment I felt the closeness of his presence and love in my' life, and with my whole being,, responded '~yes" to his invitation of loveTIt was a total "yes," one that would plunge me .deeply into ~n intimate sharing in the mystery of the death and resurrection of Jesus, pone that would demand a constantly renewed surrender Of my whole self to his hidden designs upon my life. T0,seduce and to be seduced implies a love so deep and,~so strong that it enables lovers,to move beyond the externals of looks and ways, to touch one another's hearts. In thecase of God and,myself, a human creature, I have been ocaugh~up in the' infinite love of a God for me, and.,of my total love for my God. For some mysterious reason beyond my .limited compre-hension, God has fallen in love with me; I, in turn, have responded to his love. Our love for one another is not passing or temporary. Nor is it a senti-mental love. Rather, it is a love that has been sealed in the total consecrar tion of my entire being to him. It is a love that has changed radically the ¢ '-'For a more complete and di~tailed reflection on the love-relationship aspect of the vows, see Ladislas M. Orsy, Open to the Spikit (Washington. DC: Corpus Publica-tions, 1968), pp. 71-163. 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 course of my life, a love so powerful that I, a human creature, have allowed myself to be seduced by a God who is Spirit. "You have overpowered me: you were the stronger." At the moment of my "yes" to God, I experienced the overwhelming reality rOf his love_for me. Caught up in the experience of such a love, I could respond only with love, accepting to follow him wherever he would lead me. In my enthusiasm, perhaps it seemed to me then that just about anything was possible:. For, in my weakness, he would be my strength. In moments of darkness, he would light 'the way. In the experience of my powerlessness, l~e,would sus-tain me with his~power. Iri moments of ,aloneness, he would be .present in the silent depths of my heart. Confident of his love for me, and relying on his strength and power, I could say "yes" to a way of life that seemed some-what out of the-ordinary. Many years, perhaps; have passed.since the d~y of my love-filled "yes" to my Lord. Since that day, I have tasted the joys of my yes, as wel! as its sorrows and disappointments. I have also felt the weight of the cross, as well as the new and deeper life that has emerged from its pain. At times, also, I have perhaps doubted my Lord, for he seemed absent when I needed him most. And my flame of faith and love seemed on the verge of being extinguished. Through the persons who have entered my life, as well as through the various situations and events that have constituted my sacred journey with my Lord, my love has been tried and tested.In his love for me, my God~ has attempted to deepen and mellow my Iove~ for him. Each day, he continues to .purify my love, to shape and mold me, making me ever more precious in his. sight. Have I let myself surrender to his mysteri-ous ways of love in my life? As I reflect upon my love-relationship with my Lord, I need to realiz6 that as a human person, I am flesh and blood, limited by time and space as well as by my very nature. I can live out this love relationship only in a way that is possible for me, given who I am as a person, and~the concrete situation in which my Lord h~is placed me. He has probed me and has known me even before I.was knit in my mother's womb (see Ps 139). He knows better than I do what are my limits and abilities.,His love demands no more than what is possible for the human person I am. He is well aware that I cannot deny my human nature or my human needs. I can only tran-scend my needs in and through the experience.of his love for me and of mine for him. I also need to keep in mind that my love relationship with God, sealed on the day of .my religious consecration, deepens and,mellows over a life-time; as does the love of a married couple. I need to respect the present level of my relationship with him; while remain, ing open each day to concrete possibilities for deepening that love. Within the context of this love relationship between my Lord and me, it becomes possible to reflect on the lived meaning of our vows. For, if we consider vowed living only on the human level, we risk becoming enmeshed Relqections. on Vowed Living / 357 in such thinking as "My human needs are repressed." Or, "Human fulfill-ment is impossible." Or again~ "This way: of life doesn't make sense?' No, it doesn't make any sense at all, if we limit our vowed living to the nar-rowness of human logic and understanding. For God's ways are not ours, and what seems wise in the eyes of men is foolishness to God. Consequently, I need to take the leap of faith into the horizon of my love relationship with my Lord in order to grasp something of the spiritual meaning of vowed living. Consecrated Celibacy:' During a recent hospitalization, I was, to some extent, an "object of curiosity" for my roommate. She questioned me at length about my~life-style and work. But what puzzled her most was my celibate commitment: She .seemed unable to grasp why any+ne would want to make stich a com-mitment. "Whatever made you do it? .How can you live that way?" she often asked; For her, a celibate way of, life seemed .almost unthinkable. And yet, before she left the hospital, she very spontaneously admitted that she had grown to feel comfortable with me, remarking that I was "OK." The attitude of my new-found friend regarding celibacy reflects the thinking of a culture which extols sexual pleasure andgratification. We need only.listen to TV commercials, look at paperback racks in the local book-stores, or glance through the newspaper movie listings to become aware of the sexual orientation of our culture, Or, we need only listdn to teenagers speak of sexuality to realize that sexual morality has changed drastically in recent years. Within this cultural context, celibacy is frowned upon and looked down upon as an impossible and repressive way of life because for many, sexual pleasure and gratification have, to some extent, taken on an absolute character. Sexuality and sexual pleasure in themselves are sacred values, willed .by God from the time of creation. Simply.sacrificing these values in. and for itself for no deeper value, does indeed lead to a repressive way of life. How-ever, viewed within the context of one's personal love-relationship with God, celibate living'takes on deeper meaning and dynamism. As my Lord becomes central in my life, he becomes the hidden trea-sure and the pearl of great price for whom I am willing to give. my whole life, all that I 'am and all that I have. As Paul tells us: aln The Vowed Li/e, va~ Kaam maintains that the attitudes of celibacy, poverty and obedience comprise the fundamental threefoldO path of human and spiritual unfolding. He sees these human attitudes already foreshadowed in the highest forms of animal life. All human persons, regardless of their life form, are called to live out these attitudes according to the specific demands of their concrete life situation. Vowed relig!ous, he says, are called to be living witnesses for the threefold path of self-unfolding. They profess to find the beginning and end of this threefold presence in Gdd. See Adrian van Kaam~ The Vowed Life (Denville, NJ: Dimension Books, 1968), pp: 11-74. 35'8 / Review Jor Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Those things I used to consider gain, I "liave now reappraised as loss in the light: of the surpassing knpwledge of my Lord Jesus Christ. For his sake, I have forfeited everything; I have accounted all els~ rubbish so that Christ may be'my wealth and 1 may bein him" (Ph 3:7-9). To us, who ifi recent years; have placed much emphasis on human develop-ment and on the person, these words sound strong and absolute, demand-ing and without compromise. They may even turn us off. Yet, the challenge of the gospel, of Christianiiy, of vowed living is that over a lifetime, Christ become so central in my life, so real for me, that my human life and human values take their rightful place in light of him. Thus, the human value of the pleasure of a needy self-centered love is transcended by my total love for my Lord. He becomes the.companion of.,.my life, him in whom I live and 'move and have my being. In the exp.erience of his love, I grow in love for the human person that I am, a person with human potential and short-comings; a person entrusted with talents that I am called to own as mine and use for his love; a per~son graced with the loving presence of Father, Son and Sl~irit through the'.:gift ef baptism; a person so much in love with my Lord, that I too can willingly boast of my weaknesses, for I know and believe that his power is living and active within me (see 2 Co 12:9). Within the experience 9f God's personal love for me, I grow in self-love and self-acceptance. At the same time, I grow in respect and accept-ance of other~, the sisters I live with, the. persons I work with, those who enter into my life each day-s-loving them as they are, and allowing them to be who they are, different from me. Gradually, over a life-time, his love for me and mine for him free.;me, to some extent, from the subtle manipula-tion of using 'others for my"self-interests, or of trying to make others into my own image, and likeness. My love relationship with my Lord opens me gradually to the beauty of the other lying beneath the surface of appear-ances and behavior. In his love, I learn to transcend my own needs,"and begin to let go of my narrow labeling tendencies so as to allow the other to unfold as the unique person he or she is. Thus my celibate love fosters life within myself as well as within others. My love relationship with Christ makes me aware of his love .for others also. I do not seek to cling in a needy way to others, for ultimately, they, too, belong to God. Rather, rooted in his loxie, my love for others calls forth what is best in them. Celibate love cannot beqived in a vacuum. The deep and real sacrifice of the human love of marr!age and of a family must not turn me in on myself in a sterile, self-centered way. Rather, my capacity for love and inti-macy must gradually blossom forth in a deepening of my love for God, in the warmth and intimacy of human friendship, in the tenderness,of a love that moves outward to those with whom I live, and reaches out daily to those persons the Eoi-d allows to enter into my life, my co-workers, my stu-dents, patients or clients. R~ither than repress my human capacity for love, then, celibate love, vowed fc~r the sake of the deeper love of my Lord, frees Reflections on Vowed Living / 359 me .to spread his love warmly, tenderly, and generously, simply by being who I am and living what I am--a celibate lover/ ~ Furthermore, because I am human flesh and blood with needs, desires and passions, I may experience, at various periods in my life, and'with varying intensity, the overwhelming need for sensual satisfaction and gratifi- ¯ cation. At other times, I may experience the deep suffering of human alone-ness and of loneliness. To deny or repress any of these feelings leads only to deeper pain and suffering. Rather, I need to face my feelings, own them as .mine, and 'realize that they too are part of my being human. During .these, painful mon~ents, a living faith in my Lord's love for me, often concretized' in the love and concern of a supportive community or of a friend, may be the only means of transcending my suffering. Each encounter with my hu-~ man poverty and vulnerability becomes a renewed opportunity for strength-ening my love for my Lord as well as for other persons he places on my path to comfort and support ~me. Gradually, over a life-time, I learn to turn to him, relying on his strength and his power, aware that "when I am powerless it is then that I am strong" (2 Co 12: 10). Poverty.~ A sister friend of mine~recently graduated from college. Shortly before graduation, as she and her classmates were busily writing r6sum6s and look-ing into various job opportunities, she was approached by Rome of her friends. "What happens to your salary? Do you get.to keep the money you make?" ~ They - seemed somewhat puzzled as Sister explained to them that she turned her salary in to the community. "You mean ,you can't keep what you earn?" they replied with a kind of disbelief. Their attitude is characteris-tic of another trend within our culture. For many Americans, material wealth and possessions h~ve become important status symbols. We need only listen to various individuals speak of wanting a higher salary, of moving into a larger, more impressive home, or of buying a more expensive car, to realize that personal identity and prestige are often dependent upon one's income bracket. Everyone, rich and poor alike, is engaged in the struggle for survival, for more money and more possessions~ Part of the American dream consists in the belief that if.'one, earns enough money and. eventually works his way to the top, he will be blessed with perfect h.apptness. For many contempor~try Ameri-cans, acquiring wealth and~ possessions has become an ultimate value. 4Hinnebusch describes love as f611ows: "To Io~,e is to go out of myself as the center of interest, and to make'.the loved one the focus of attention." Paul Hinnebusch, Corn- " munity in the Lord (Notre Dame, IN: Ave Maria Press, 1975), p. 23.~This is the kind of self-giving attitude fostered by g~nuine celibate love. ¯ ~For a more extensive development of poverty as total dependences on God, see Johannes B. Metz, Poverty o[ Spirit, trans. John Drury (Paramtis, NJ: Paulist Press, 1968). 360 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Within this competitive materialistic culture, men and women religious vow to live poverty--not for its own sake, for poverty in and for itself is not a value to be encouraged. Rather, religious poverty becomes meaning-ful only in and through one's personal love relationship with the Lord. As I grow in the ispiritual attitude of vowed poverty, I become increasingly aware that God's love for me is so deep and so complete that he emptied himself totally'~of his equality with God, and took the form of a slave, be-coming one ofous, subjecting himself to the limitations of the human, condi-tion (see Ph 2:5-11). Once again, I find myself caught up in the mystery of my Lord's love, a love that has seduced and captured me. Only if I am truly in love with my God, rich in him, can I, in turn, gradually empty my-self of myself ~nd of material possessions. As my love relationship with him becomes central in my life, the human value of possession becomes subordi-nated to this: love, and takes its rightful place in my life. In the strength of his love, I am able .to let go, gradually, of my possessive attitude, no longer al-lowing myself to cling possessively to things such as clothing, money, food, the latest fad, machines, the community car, my own ideas, opinions, views, and.more. I recognize the need for possessions: for money, clothing, food, machines, as my friend recognized the need to earn a salary. Likewise, I recognize the need to have certain ideas, views, and opinions. But because I care so much for God, I care also for this world--for our world. Our love for one another frees me to use.things respectfully rather than possessively, with the detached attitude that allows things to be as they are, rather than with the grasping, and clinging attitude of hoarding, or of the' stubborn attitude that "my way is the right one.'''~ As my love for my Lord grows, I gradually learn to see myself in my rightful place as a.limited human creature. Through the eyes of a living~ faith, I begin to realize that my views, my opinions, my ways of doing things may be good and right for me, but remain relative for other members of the community as well as for those with whom I work. As iI become rich in the one thing necessary, the love of my Lord, the self-emptying of poverty helps me to transcend my need to totalize and absolutize. In light of my Lord's living and active presence in the cultural-historical situation of the world, I ~radually begin to distance myself from my views, values and ma-terial possessions. They are important to me at this time in my life, but they also are relative, even for myself. For if I remain flexibly open to the un, folding of my life situation, the values, principles and opinions that seem absolute for me today may be less important to me in a few years. For ex-ample, perhaps a few years ago, I was on the "band wagon~' for total, open-ness in community. At the time, openness seemed to be ~an ultimate value for community living, With time and experience, I may have come to see that openness is indeed important, but every member of the community is '~van Kaam, The Vowed Li]e, pp. 176-186. Reflections on Vowed Living / 361 not capable of the same level of openness. Consequently, the value of open-ness which at one time seemed ultimate for me, has become modified by the emergence-for-me of the deeper value of respect for the other. Through a continual self-emptying attitude, I gradually learn to let go of my opinions and views in order to become more open to the Spirit of my Lord as he expresses himself through the differing values and opinions of others, as well as through the unfolding of history. My love for my Lord enables me to learn to flow with life, expecting little, and accepting whatever comes, as it comes, rather than rigidly and possessively trying to control my" life. For, in love, I gradually come to realize that ultimately, I do not control my life; it i.s in the hands of a Father-God who loves me dearly and cares for me tenderly. Furthermore, the self-emptying of poverty viewed within the context of love, may prompt me to give myself' away through giving my time, through allowing persons and their needs'to take priority over things. In an individualistic culture .in which my life is often run by a time-clock, per-haps I have lost the art of sharing my time with others, of giving my time away for the sake of others. In silent reflection before my Lord, I gradu-ally discover how much of my time I can realistically give away, for the demands of my own life make it impossible for me to be totally available to others. While the self-emptying of poverty may at times demand that I give myself selflessly to others, this same self-emptying may at other times .require that I refuse a request, because of my personal obligations or simply because I need the time to restore myself both physically and mentally. The essence of the spirit of poverty is. that~I grow gradually into the lived realization that my life is in the hands of my Lord. In love, he .has created me. In love, he continues each day to sustain me. My love for him in turn, prompts me to empty myself of myself and slowly to detach myself from material possessions in order to create the inner space in which I may become ever more sensitive and responsive to the whispers of. his love in my daily life. The pain of self-denial and of daily dying to my self-centeredness is very real, and at times, may be overwhelming. At such moments, I need to remind myself that my Lord'~ love for me led him to the cross, the ulti-mate experience of detachment .and of self-emptying:Just as his love for his Father and for me enabled him to transcend his natural repugnance for suf-fering,? so too, my love forhim strengthens me to follow my Lord along the way of the cross, that through the pain of self-emptying, I may be glorified by an ever deeper share in his life (see Ph 2:5-11 ). Obedience A further reflection on our contemporary culture leads us to realize that the value of power, also, is highly esteemed. All of us, at some time or another, fantasize having some kind of power. Perhaps during my school years, I dreamed of being class president or president of the student council. 362 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Or perhaps during my early years in religious life, 1 dreamed of one day being house assistant or local superior. Or;again, since ~those structures of-ten no .longer exist, perhaps my dreams are now directed toward being school principal, or head nurse, ot an influential member of tt]e parish team. What-ever my fantasy or my dream, chances are that some aspect of it is related to my drive for power. ,. Often implicit in this climb to the top of the social ladder is having power,over other human ~.persons, as well ashaving the power to make im-portant decisions. In fact, our world civilization seems to be based on a power struggle between the free world and communism. ., This power stru(:ture has .implications for ~the life of every human per-son: we often feel overpowered by technology, by the intricacies of big government and big business, by large ,agencies :that seem to control some facet of our lives, and before which we feel helpless. In turn, each of us to some degree seeks to react against, these overwhelming powers by asserting our own power within.:our small domain, be it in our limited ability to say "yes" or ,no" to issues pertaining to our personal life and work. Power in itself is to be valued, for without some degree of power, I ab-dicate the gift of my :human freedom, as well as human responsibility. How- ~everi power becomes detrimental when other human persons become ob-jects of my . personal project and desires. Then my power infringes upon their human freedom, and can become a destructive force. When this hap-pens, power, becofiaes an ultimate value for me, one by which I hope to gain some prestige and security, thereby repressing my own inner insecurity. '~ Religious men and women who vow obedience within our power-oriented world are reminders that human power, like the values of pleasure and possession, is not an ultimate value; that in light of my personal love relationship with my Lord, power is relative. For to be seduced by God means that ! allow him to have power over me. It implies that I grow in my ability to become attentive to his will, and become increasingly sensitive to his demands and desires. Our' love relationship assures me of his con-stant care and concern for me, In the security of his love, I discover the space to grow in the awareness that what he asks of me through the 'persons, events and situationg that enter into my life each day, is the concretization of his will for me at this time in my life,r Just as he speaks to me through~these realities that exist outsid ,myself, so too, he speaks through the reality that I myself am. His presence can be discovered in and through my possibilities and my limits, my desires and ¯ ambitions, my physical and emotional strengths and weaknesses. All that ¯ I am is my Lord's gift to me, a gift through which he speaks his word. Paul tells us that our deepest self is hidden in Christ, Part of our 10ve-re- ':For a further development of obedience as listening, refer to van Kaam, The VoCved LiIe; pp.'q57-169. '- Reflections on Vowed l,iving / 363 lationship then, demands that I be true to that deephst self, created in the image and likeness of .my Lord himself. To obey my deepest self, to submit myself to other persons, to events and situations demands a love so strong, that I am willing to empty myself of my desire, for total power over my own life, to accept in loving faith, that my Lord does indeed reveal himself through other creatures. In such a love, I can'.gradually loosen my grip on my own life, and slowly begin to listen more openly to persons, events, situations, both within my community and within the culture, as messengers of his divine will for me. In this loving openness, I am gradually freed from a slavish attachment to my feelings, my views, my opinions, my ideas, because I allow myself to be enriched by those of others. Recognizing the presence of my Lord in and through persons and events outside myself is difficult and challenging. For unconsciously, I tend to be-lieve that I know what is best for me. I tend to believe that what 1 know to be best for me is the concrete expression of the Lord's will in my life. How can otherpersons, each limited as I am, reveal to me anything of God's will? Such thoughts gradually close me in on my own thinking, my own ideas and opinions, somewhat like a snail closed-in in its shell. Uncon-sciously, I make myself like God, giving myself ultimate power over my life. Only in love can I gradually transcend my self-centered God-like atti-tude, and slowly begin to recognize my Lord's will for me as expressed in and through all of creation persons, events, situations.and things. In love, I discover the strehgth to die daily to my own will, in order to allbw my Lord's will to live and to be express~ed in and th.rough the limited human person that I am. Thus, every person who enters into my life, as well as everything that happens in my life becomes an integral part of my~ personal sacred history with my Lord. Conclusion ¯ A~' I reflect upon vowed living within the context of my personal love relationship with God, I can begin to see my vows as gifts which invite me to a continual deepening of this love relationship. For no longer is God a distant Spirit imposing upon me the obligations of the vows; rather, He be-comes Someone for me, someone real and personal inviting me to an ever ,deeper intimacy with °him through the sacred bond of my vows. As this intimacY deepens, I grow in the awareness of my need for him. I cannot live my vows on my own strength; I need to rely on his power. Paul tells us that "We possess this treasure in earthen vessels, to make it clear that its surpassing power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). In hu-man terms, my vowed life makes no sensi~; it is foolishness in the eyes of men. Moreover, on the human levd alone, ].am unable to live such a way of life. It is delicate, fragile and vulnerable; ever exposed to the opposition of my own human nature and of controversial forces in our world. 364 / Review ]or Religious, I/olume 36, 1977/3 Living my vows becomes possible only through the centrality of my per: sonal love relationship with my Lord. In that love, I am graced with the strengtl~ and power, to re~spond to his constant invitation to enter into the self-emptying process. Our Lord is a jealous God who wants to possess me totally. He promises in return, to fill my emptiness with his loving presence. Each call to self-emptying is an invitation to die to some aspect of my old ~self; my needy self, constantly in search of the security of human power, pleasure and possession. However, this death is but a means of leading me to a life of deeper intimacy with him. It is a death c.alling me constantly to the new and deeper freedom of love. Each day of my life, he seduces me, calling me t6 a.morb personal" rela-tionship with him. Each day of my life, I must allow myself to be seduced-- to give him love for love, relying on his strength and his power. This call is a daily challenge, the challenge of living my "yes" to him. Am I willing to follow him all the way; ever open to i:laily situations as so many con-crete opportunities .for deepening my love through consecrated celibate .love, through self-emptying poverty and through freeing obedience? Now Available As A Reprint, ¯ Prayer of Personal Reminiscence: Sharing One's Memories with Christ by David J. Hassel, S.J. Address: Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Toward Further Self-Definition William F, Hogan, C.S~C. Father Hogan is an Assistant General and General Procurator of his congregation'. His last article in these pages, "Communily Reconsidered," appeared in the September; 1976 issue. He resides Via Framura, 85; 00168 Roma, Italy. In' Per]ectae Caritatis the Fathers of Vatican II told us that it serves the best interests of the (~hur~h for religious institutes to have their own special character.and purpose. Thus, the spirit of founders and all the particular goals and traditions that constitute the patrimony of each religious institute should be recognized and safeguarded (See 'PC 2,,b). This statement oc-casioned a flurry of activity in some religious communities to start research-ing their traditions to ,.confirm again the self-definition of each community, and to stir up interest in the spirit of their founders. In many instances this activity has bo~ne fruit in that the religious have been put more'clearly in touch with their particular roots and have slowly effected,some changes of direction in their life and apostolic stance. In other institutes, the spurt of renewed interest subsided almost as fast as it. began, especially in those congregations in which nothing particularly unique seemed to stand out. The call to discover the uniqueness of one's heritage is being reasserte~i in the proposed new text of the law for instittitesof the consecrated,life; for those who have framed the proposed text have taken very seriously the mandate of Vatican II about' preserving,the patrimony of each religious in-stitute. Instead of drawing up legislation to cove'r all the points on religious life in a uniform way, as th( present law in. good part does, they are pro-posing general principles of Jaw within which each institute is to draw up its particular norms in accordance with its own traditions. By taking such a direction, the new law, if it be approved,, will be inviting and requiring of religious greater efforts at community self-understanding and self-definition. In order to meet this demand, it will be necessary for members of religious 365 366 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 institutes, and in particular members of general chapters, to develop a re-fined awareness of the founder's charism, the continuing charisms of the congregation as expressed into traditions and in its spiritual and apostolic heritage, a clear sense of where the institute has been in the past, where it is in the present and where the legacy of the founder and the traditions of the community are pointing for the future. That there is still a widespread need for further self-understanding and self-definition is becoming apparent from the various interim constitutions and position papers of religious institutes. Prior to the decree on renewal of religious life (Ecclesiae sanctae, August 6, 1966) and the directive to revise constitutions, the legislation of religious institutes had a remarkable sameness because constitutions had to conform to the ~Norms of 1901 and the subsequent rules of the Sacred Congregation, promulgated in 1921, which, had to be followed in seeking approbation for the texts of new constitutions. Today a new similarity is emerging, although it bears little resemblance to the primarily legal approach of the pre-sixties. The present-day "sameness of texts" appears to be rooted~in the fact that religious in-stitutes have followed the" lead of the council and gone back to the gospel roots of religious !ife, t0_us considering it as flowing out of the baptismal commitment. As -a result of this important emphasis on religious life in the context of the gospei and of bap~tism, underscoring, as it does, the.thorough-ly Christian nature of religious life, frequently the same scriptural and conciliar texts are cited. And in the process of situating the religious insti-tute in its proper ecclesial and Christian context,.little, or at least, insufficient stress,,~.is placed 6n those particular ways in which the founder wished to emphasize the gospel message and on those facets of. the Christ-life revealed through the Spirit's activity in his or her life and mission. Generally speak-ing, all religious have~'been very conscious of the need to express religious life in terms of a broad ecclesial vision and to avoid any instances of the exaggerated c~ngregationai emphasis~that may have closed them in on them-selves in the past. But in meeting, this issue, they may be.losing sight of that part of their contribution to the life of the Church which consists in positively developing their particular heritage. There is ~no reason why there cannot be harmony and balance between .the ecclesial and the peculiarly congregational elements, and thus a clearer understanding of the role of a particular .religious institute in the Church. For some religious institutes it may be rather difficult to grasp the unique-ness of their heritage, especially if they have been founded since the 1800's, when many congregations came to birth under the ~inspiration of. the Spirit ¯ to meet particular needs in some specific geographic area, and have pat-terned themselves on-other, already existi.ng congregations. But even in such instances, there.may well exist a uniqueness of insight and emphasis fr6m the founder, the early members and the riches that have accumulated~from the various religious over the years--spiritual, intellectual, apostolic riches that Toward Further Sel[-Definition / 367 constitute the legacy, of the congregation. It is these factors that will have to be borne in mind in delineating the norms of law for the congregation' today, and that will yiel'd the necessary self-understanding of the religious institute. Religiou,s today often have recalled in liturgies or at congregational gatherings concerned with community and plurality the celebrated text from the_ first epistle to the Corinthians: There are different gifts but the same Spirit: there are different °ministries but the same Lord; there are different works but the same God who accomplishes all of them in everyone. To each person the manifestation of the Spirit is given , ~ for the common good . . . (I Co 12:4ff,). And similarly from Ephesians: ~And his gifts were that some should be apogtles, some prophets, some evangelists, some pastors and teachers in roles of service for the faithful to build up, the body of Christ. till we become one in faith and in the knowl-edge of God's Son, and form that perfect man who is Christ come to lull stature (Ep 4:11-13). The't~exts in themselves obviously speak of individual gifts of the Spirit to the Church; but in the modern context they can well'remind us of the diversity of gifts and charisms within the categories of the traditional gifts in the Church. If religious life itself is a gift of the Spirit to the Church, as the Church teaches, then even more precisely is the religious life of a particular institute a special gift of the Spirit to the Church for the building up of the Church. And the religious of the institute should seek to fathom the gift in all its particular aspects. The° gifts of diverse religious institutes to the Church reflect the many-faceted splendor of the Father's love for his peo-ple. Our response to that love should reflect the facets of that love as these are particularized in our institutes and their heritage.- To continue to reflect on and search out the heritage'of a religious in-stitute demands the continued expenditure of psychological energy. Yet many religious are tired of devoting their energies~this way, especially in view of the crying needs of mankind ~hom they are called to serve. The self-definition and self-understanding being requested of them may no longer be seen as a value worth pursuing. It cannot be denied that there are many demands on religious today, and they must~become ~selective in which de-mands they will meet. But in developihg personal and ~ollective criteria for responding to demands, religious must not forget.that the time and effort spent in self-understanding and self-definition is~ultimatelyfor the sake of greater and more meaningful service to others and for the building up of the life of the Church. The deeper the unde.rstand!ng of the call of the Spirit .,to the founder and those who have come after him, the deeper and more intense could be the response. And the growth in appreciation of the gift Of the Spirit that is a particular religious institute contributes to growth in wonder and appreciation of the gift that is Church. 368 / Review Jor Religious, Volume "36, 1977/3 . If the proposed direction of the new law for institutes of the conse-crated life is adopted in the Church, religious could be the richer spiritually for what it will necessitate in terms of further self-definition. But if the easier, more .comfortable path is followed of just latching on to that which is familiar, without serious examination of roots and traditibns, then the opportunity for seizing onto the uniqueness of God's gift of the particular institute will be lost. Every religious group was called into being because of a unique need in 'the Church. The continuance and growth of'institutes is suppo~sed to be .in terms of their umque contributions to the life of the Church and the world. This uniqueness is born of the special love of God for the founder and those who have succeeded the founder with the passage of time, all unique persons, who, in sharing life and ministry together, should be creating a unique response to God, the Church and the world. We need to know exactly where our insl, itutes are "new" in terms of this uniqueness, how we have arrived at this point through our traditions and history, and the best steps to promote ot~r response within a thoroughly Christian and ec-clesial religious life for the future. The Church's renewed call to the dis-covery of uniqueness deserves a serious answer if we value the gifts of God that are our institutes. ~ The Pregnancy The cloistered life within her sends the fire that burns her cheek-- Nature's proud assertion; Life's excited'glow; The insuppressible, open declaration Of yesterday's.creation and tomorrow's warm embrace. A compliant constitution accommodates her child--~ Time's prodigy care~ering toward release From cell to self so he may show his face And state in gurgled language instinctive gratitude. Never more important or more vital to another; ~ Linked by blood and substance in protracted intimacy O~f singular and enviable duration-- A high point in the human testament of love. A legacy for embattled man to learn from-- Acceptance, peace, surrender of one's self, Belief'in time hnd patience that reveals The unfathomable restoration of life's fragments in a soul. Donald DeMarco St. Jerome's College Waterloo, Ontario N2L _3G3 Canada Chapter Delegate" Qualities and R esponsi bi I iti es Robert Morneau Father Morneau is an Instructor of Philosophy at Silver Lake College; Manitowoc, WI 54220~ The significance of general chapters of religious communities cannot be overstressed. The responsibility of providing and sustaining a vision, the challenge to be true to the gospel while preserving the uniqueness of the community's special charism, the mandate to read the signs of the times and yet have a universal sensitivity, all demand diligent work and competent deliberators. This article is an attempt to describe some of the qualifies in-herently crucial to the fulfillment of the above challenges and to specify areas of responsibility following upon election as a delegate to a general chapter. Essentially what is being offered is a job description, a delineation ot~ the functions of a trusted steward, The thesis of this article is that a chapter delegate is called to be a dialogical person, a prophetic person, and a wounded healer.' / Delegate: A Dialogical Person God our Father is a God of revelation. In the precious mystery of his grace, he has chosen to reveal himself and his gracious love to mankind. Throughout history God .has communicated with his people, calling all crea-tion to life and fidelity. As a diaiogical God, he longs to speak his love and forgiveness; he searches out those who will listen and respond to his word. ~The image of wounded healer is taken from Henri J. M. Nouwen's book by the same title. 369 370 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 God has spoken and told us where he is and who he is. We are called to imitate our Father: "Try, then, to imitate God, as children of his that he loves. " (Ep 5: ! ); we do this from one perspective by becoming dialogi-cal persons. Our model is the Father who shares himself with us in word and sacrament. The qualities of a dialogicai person are many; we will limit our con-sideration to three essential attitudes that must be present if authentic com-munication is to happen. The first and perhaps most difficult quality of a dialogical person is listening. Monologues are terribly common in life; empty, one-sided discourses in which no one is listening and probably no one is thinking. Dialogue demands attentive listening, feeling behind the words into the reality being expressed. This type of listening is concerned not with simple, audible comprehension but with a compassionate desire to enter into the world of the speaker to see what has been seen, to hear what has been given. An example of this sensitive listening can be found in Tolstoy's classic War and Peace: He told of these adventures as he had never yet recalled them. He now, as it were, saw a new meaning in all he had gone through. Now that he was tell-ing it all to Natasha he experienced that pleasure which a man has when women listen to him--not clever women who when listening either try to remember what they hear to enrich their minds and when opportunity offers to retell it, or who wish to adopt it to some thought of their own and promptly contribute their own clever comments prepared in their own little mental workshop--but the pleasure given by real women gifted with a capacity to select and absorb the very best a man shows of himself. Natasha without knowing it was all attention: she did not lose a word, not a single quiver in Pierre's voice, no look, no twitch of a muscle in his face, nor a single gesture. ~ She caught the unfinished word in its flight and took it straight into her open heart, divining the secret meaning of all Pierre's mental travail.'-' If a delegate is to truly listen, there must be some degree of interior silence.Turning off the inner engines is difficult and demands discipline, yet so necessary if the message is to be understood and the feelings are to o be appreciated. C. S. Lewis expressed well our dilemma: "Inner silence is for our race a difficult achievement.":' To obtain this silence we must deal with our own fears, insecurities and prejudices. These tendencies block lis-tening, put us into the land of defensiveness and create a sense of being threatened. Secure in our forts, with drawbridge raised and the moat filled with crocodiles, we protect ourselves from new ideas, visions and possibili-ties. Again C. S. Lewis drives home the point: "He could never empty, or silence, his own mind to make room for an alien thought.''~ A chapter dele- "Leo Tolstoy, War and Peace, tr. by Louise and Aylmer Maude. (New York, 1942), p. 1241. By permission of the Oxford University Press. :'C. S. Lewis, Perelandra (New York, 1944), p. 140. 4C. S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy (New York, 1955), p. 184. Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 371 gate must listen and discern. Electing a nondialogical person to a chapter is like inviting a deaf person to a concert or taking someone who is blind to an art museum. Neither experience nor growth is possible if essential capaci-ties are lacking~ Listening is essential to dialogue. A second quality of a dialogical person is trust. In an essay written in 1952, Martin Buber stated: "But here is an essential presupposition for all this dialogue: it is necessary to overcome the massive distrust in others and also that in ourselves.''~ If Buber's observation is correct, and there seems to be sufficient evidence to,verify his reflection, we have a lot of growing to do. We must reestablish trust in others and in ourselves. H~opefully, we will gr~aund our trust on the theological fact that God has faith and trust in us. He has given us freedom and intelligence, blessed us with insight and grace. We are his stewards entrusted to do his work in our times. Sensing this, a delegate must come to a radical trust in his own personal insight and conviction. This trust must then be extended to others who are also on the journey searching for truth and goodness. Nothing breaks down communica-tion so quickly as distrust; it hardly pays to initiate a discussion unless there is a solid degree of self-confidence and a climate of confidence in others. Buber, quoting Robert Hutchins, writes: "The essence of the Civiliza-tion of the Dialogue is communication. This presupposes mutual respect and understanding, it does not presuppose agreement.'"; Our trust in self and others must be supplemented with respect and the ability to understand. It would be profitable for delegates to spend some time critically reading Emerson's essay "Self-Reliance" and Howe's The Miracle o[ Dialogue. Desire ]or truth is a third quality of the dialogical person. A longing for insight and perspective characterizes the mind and heart of a truth-seeker. Like an ink blotter, this type of person quickly and completely absorbs truth wherever it presents 'itself. Desire for truth means being in contact with facts (hard data). There is no excuse for ignorance; the homework must be done. Besides researching and interpreting facts, truth demands contact with basic principles, those patterns of meanings which explain and eluci-date reality. Experience and reflection are prerequisites here. Besides dealing with facts and principles, desire for truth calls for the basic disposition mani-festing a willingness to change and grow. Regardless of who speaks a "pagan" philosopher, a formed provincial, a member in one's local commur nity, a poet--the searcher for truth listens and evaluates. So often God is speaking through these and other historical channels. If the search is honest, change will be demanded; certain, pet ~:ategories will be dropped and new ones added (e.g., collegiality) ; treasured prejudices must be let go and open-ness of mind fostered; static, rigid formulations must be reexamined in the :'Martin Buber, "Hope for This Hour;" quoted in Maurice S. Friedman, ed., Pointing the Way (New York, 1974), p. 222. ~;ibid., p. 222. 372 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 light of new research and insight. The process is painful and not without its victims but this is the price of honest discipleship. If a chapter delegate is called to imitate God by being a dialogical per-son characterized by attentive listeniiag, deep trust and a desire for truth, several responsibilities automatically arise. (1) A chapter delegate must be available to the people he represents. The thinking, feeling and life-style of his ~onstituency must be familiar material to the delegate. The duty of being available is not without its price: time and energy, precious and limited commodities, must be sacrificed in fulfilling this obligation. (2) A chapter delegate must be able to make distinctions. Meriol Trevor, in her biography of Cardinal Newman, wrote concerning Ft. Faber: "He would never dis-tinguish between disapproval and dislike; he himself always spoke of hating people who disagreed with him and he could not believe others were differ-ent.'' r This type of person should not be allow~id to be in the arena of policy making. One must be able to know and experience the difference between understanding and agreeing, between a person and an issue, between an idea and its emotive force. Chapters in which such distinctions are consistently made result in community growth and peace. (3) A chapter delegate must be willing to speak during the chapter proceedings. Some eloquent (and not so eloquent) discourses on stairways and in other private areas would be more profitably shared with the. entire group. There 'is no excuse for devastating criticisms made outside the halls of the chapter room and silence reigning within. As a general principle no one should say outside of chapter what he is not willing to say to the whole group. A delegate is mandated to speak out, to take a stance, to express points of view. If this is done with respect and in the spirit of truth, there should be tittle to fear. Merton's insight is helpful: "Ignorance is the parent of fear.''~ Our talk should flow from our study and reflection on life. Delegate: A Prophetic Person Jesus was a prophet. The study of Scripture verifies this fact and. further points out that throughout the Old Testament the Father sent prophets on special missions. Jesus' mission was unique and yet contained the basic in-gredients of those who preceded him: to reveal who the Father was and also to provide the means whereby people might return to the Father. Like Christ, the chapter delegate is missioned. This "being sent" comes through the community and the task flowing from this mission resembles that of all the prophets. The booklet Spiritual Renewal o[ the American Priesthood describes the prophet in these terms: The prophet's function was to perceive the presence or absence of God in situations and to point out the consequences of that presence or absence. A 7Meriol Trevor, Newman: Light in Winter (New York, 1963), p. 86. ,'Sotlrce unknown. Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 373 prophet had to know contemporary issues, but even more, he had to be sensi-tive to the mind and will of God.:' In the context of this prophetic role, certain traits clearly emerge that would characterize a chapter delegate. The first of these is sensitivity. This sensitivity must embrace the three sectors of time: the past with its treasures and cultural limitations, the present with its high ideals and ambiguous facts, the future with its plans and realistic hopes. It is possible and often happens in life that we eat but do not taste, read but do not comprehend, listen but do not hear. Historical insensitivity cannot be excused; we must be in touch with our roots and our traditions. Unless carefully nurtured, this sensitivity can be lost. Sensitivity demands that we perceive what is happen- .ing here and now; that we enter in or are caught up by the present moment. This is not just a cognitive apprehension, since it necessarily includes an affective involvement~ The future will be basically meaningless if we do not avoid the tragedy of lost sensitivity written of by Hopkins: Generations have trod, have trod, have trod; And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil; And wear man's smudge and shares man's smell; the soul ls bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.~° It is time once again to take off our shoes/' to be sensitive to our world, to our people, to our deepest self. A sense of reverence, awe and wonder is much needed in our merry-go-round world. Prophets are, of necessity, courageous people. If Emerson is correct in saying that "God will not make himself manifest to cowards,''r-' then the V~rtue of fortitude takes on added importance in fostering the kingdom. Among the courageous people in history, St. Paul has been honored in a special way: ¯ . . But the big courage is the cold-blooded kind, the kind that never lets go even when you're feeling empty inside, and your blood's thin, and there's no kind of fun or profit to be had, and the trouble's not over in an hour or two but lasts for months and years. One of the men here was speaking about that kind, and he called it 'Fortitude.' I reckon fortitude's the biggest thing a man can have--just to go on enduring when there's no guts or heart left in you. Billy h~id' it when he trekked solitary from. Garungoze to the Limpogo with ~This booklet, edited by Gerard Broccolo and Ernest E. Larkin, O. Carm., was pub-lished in 1973 by the Publications Office of the United States Catholic Conference ( 1312 Massachusetts Avenue, N.W., WashingtoniDC 20005). ~'~Gerard Manley Hopkins, "God's Grandeur." ~V'Earth's crammed with heaven And every common bush afire with God; And only he who sees takes off his shoes-- The rest sit around it and pluck blackberries." Elizabeth Barrett Browning, "Aurora Leigh." I~Ra!ph Waldo Emerson, "The Over-Soul." 374 / Review lot Religious, ~'olume 36, 1977/3 fever and a broken arm just to show the Portugooses that he wouldn't be downed by them.,But the head man at the job was the Apostle Paul . 1:~ Courage helps us to deal,with two tendencies that permeate human existence: the tendency to fear the unknown and the drive to flee spontaneously from any object of danger. "Fright and flight"14 can block us from experiencing reality to its fullest. Courage enables us ~to stand firm and fight when the situation calls for this type of response; courage enables us to die to our-s~ lves for the sake of life. A delegate, knowing well what happens to most prophets in history, will have to face many dangers and crosses. At times his courage will manifest itself in patient endurance (the most difficult type of courage), while at other times he will be called upon to pounce on evil.1'~ Whatever is not compatible with the gospel must be courageously ques-tioned; whatever is antihuman or subhuman must be diligently removed. Living courage is a great boon to the entire community, not just to the in-dividual exercising that gift. A third trait of the prophetic person, exemplified so clearly in the life of Jesus, is that of vision. A delegate is called upon to have a perspective of what religious life is, to be able to situate in their context contemporary. issues, to sense the interrelationship among such things as prayer, asceticism and the apostolate. The blind cannot lead; only a person with vision can point the way. If a guide has not been to a given territory or if he loses the map which would get him there by carefully reading, he is no longer an asset to the group which relies on him. The delegate without vision con-tributes little in the attempt to provide meaning and direction for the com-munity. Two dangers have always plagued a healthy perspective: myopia and ignorance. The first danger allows one to see, but only to the end of one's nose--not a terribly helpful overview. Ignorance, th~ second danger, can only result in a valley experience even though the voice of the ignorant leader be forceful, and filled with an apparent self-confidence. A number of responsibilities become obligatory for the prophetic dele-gate. (1) A chapter delegate must be informed. Study and researizh will be as necessary and as natural as breathing for such a person. There is no excuse for not being aware of contemporary issues, the movements of our present culture, the meaning and influence of history. The presence or absence of information is relatively easy to detect. (2) If a person is to.be attuned to the mind and heart of God, prayer is necessary. Special emphasis should be placed on scriptural prayer since it is God's word which illuminates our understanding of contemporary issues. If the porters at the chapter doors should bar the uninformed, they should be twice as diligent in barring l:~John Buchan, Mr. Stead[ast; quoted in C. H. Dodd, The Meaning o[ Paul/or Today (London, 1920), p. 7. ~4Rev. Kevin O'Shea, "Enigma and Tenderness," Spiritual Li]e, Spring, 1975. ~sSee the. excellent Thomistic treatment of the virtue of fortitude in Josef Pieper, The Four Cardinal Virtues (Notre Dame, 1966), pp. 117-141. ,Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 375 a person who does not pray faithfully. (3) A chapter delegate should be a person of decision. Newman in his Apologia Pro Vita Sua states: "Certitude is a reflex action; it is to,know that one knows.""; Study and prayer should lead us to this type of certitude which in turn enables us to make serious decisions, even though there will always be some element of risk if not doubt. Another facet in this process of decision making is the,willingness to assume responsibility for the decisions made. Indecisive and irresponsible persons should not be elected to chapters. The duties of being informed, prayerful and decisive are not acquired in a day not even a week. Yet the delegat~ should be growing in each of these areas if the community is to be served well. Delegate: A Wounded Healer Jesus promised that when he had returned to the Father he would send their Spirit. That promise has been realized in all who have come to believe in the Lord. This Spirit is leading all back to the Father through Christ; this Spirit is a Spirit of love, joy and peace. Through the Holy Spirit, heal-ing and reconciliation happens in our world today. A great vision of unity found in Pauline theology becomes a reality to the extent that people are living the life of the Spirit. Yet this vision of unity is premised on the tragic fact and acute awareness that fragmentation permeates creation. Man is divided within himself and separated from his fellow man, his God, and his world. We are a wounded pe~ople, scarred and battered by our own sins and the sins of others. "Everything God has made has a crack in it.'''r Our voca-tion is to make all one in Christ, to reconcile all creation to the Father. The gift of the Spirit dwelling in the Church and in our personal lives enables us to begin this glorious and painful task. The delegate as wounded healer is distinguishable by a sense of deep compassion. Graced with the ability to perceive things from the inside, the compassionate person has a knowledge of the heart and not just of external activity. The secret of the fox18 is undoubtedly correct: "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye." Compassion promotes our seeing what is truly significant;.it goes far beyond the inhuman limitations of our sensate culture. So often in Scripture, reference is made to the neces-sity of a new heart.':' God's word urges us to .grow in compassion and empathy. Insensitivity to the hurts and pains of others, even though these may be self-imposed, prevents the building of community. Compassion heals! Hopefully, every deli~gate has had the experience of being healed a6Early in his book Newmah writes, "In the first chapter of this narrative I spoke of certitude as the consequence, divinely intended and enjoined upon us, of the accumula-tive force of certain given reasons which, taken one by one, were only probabilities." lrRalph Waldo Emerson, "Compensation." lSAntoine de Saint Exupery, The Little Prince (New York, 1943). 1:'E.g., Jeremiah 31 : 31-34; Ezechiel 36:24-28. 376 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 through the heartfelt concern of others. Perhaps the task of the doctor applies to all of us: "sometimes to cure, often to alleviate, always to care.''z'' Compassion is care incarnated. The destructive force of nuclear warfare is so obvious that no on.e can deny its effects; less obvious but extremely powerful in the psychological realm is the prevalent killer called judgmentalism. A delegate must be a non~ judgmental person. This does not mean that one ceases making judgments, judgments which at times are sharp and painful. God has blessed us with reason and insight and we must ferret out the truth and the falsity of our lives and the life of the community. We cannot renege on our responsibility to find the truth and to speak it boldly. Judgmentalism, on the other hand, uses the faculty of reason but in an abusive way. Judgments are made, not on dis-cernible consequences, but on motives which cannot be verified. Evidence is wanting, yet persons are judged and insinuations are made. This type of iudgmentalism is characterized by intolerance (a demand that everyone live by my interpretation of religious life), a defensiveness and air of hostility, a lack of warmth and affability. A delegate, therefore, should have a delicate balance between tolerance of persons and intolerance of falsity; between respect for the individual and firmness in sticking to principles; between understanding the human condition and calling each other to growth. We come to realize that without the gift of the Spirit we cannot but fail in this stupendous task. Again we are helped in this area by realizing that we have been blessed in our personal histories with people who have refused to judge and condemn us, who have manifested an infinite patience in allowing us to grow through the stages of personal development. If we have been ~he object of judgmentalism, our experience should forever prevent us from venturing down that road of psychological and spiritual destructiveness. The word of God provides light for our pilgrimage. In the prophet Micah, we are challenged by the Father's woi~d: this is what Yahweh asks of you: only this, to act justly, to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God.21 The call to justice, charity and faith is clear. Interestingly, spiritual love has the quality of tenderness, a-term which forcefully describes the manner in which we are to reach out to others in concern. It is possible to serve un-willingly, to meet needs because of duty, to heal out of necessity. This is neither sufficient nor healthy in an ultimate sense. God calls us to enter fully and generously into the lives of others. A tender love, a gentle con-cern, a warm respect characterize total love. Underlying this kind of love is the keen realization that human beings are terribly fragile. Indeed, "avalances gather force and crash, unheard, in men as in the mountains." "-'°America, May 1, 1976, p. 377. Paul Ramsey was quoted by the authors. '-'1Micah 6:8. Chapter Delegate: Qualities and Responsibilities / 377 People with whom we live can be breaking apart inside without our aware-ness; a tender word and radical love can heal so many lives that are on the edge.of despair. A chapter delegate would benefit from reading Fr. Kevin O'Shea, especially his article "Enigma and Tenderness.''~ The chapter delegate, a wounded healer, is challenged to fulfill certain responsibilities in this area. (1) He must ]ace the negative in self, others and the world. A recent Cartoon showed a street cleaner lifting up the edge of a sidewalk under which he swept the city's debris. No healing can take place unless we honestly and courageously face that which is destructive within life. Exploitation and manipulation are too common to be ignored; these must be searched out and dealt with in a reasonable way. (2) He should ]ace the positive in self, community and the world. Just as dangerous as the rug syndrome is the denial of or unwillingness to recognize the vast potential waiting to be actualized in creation. Leadership qualities lie fallow because of fear; intellectual skills remain untapped because of a lack of .challenge; talents stay on shelves for want of affective nutrients. "Our in-tellectual and active powers increase with our affection.'"-':' The truly great person has the vision to perceive the gifts of others~ the truly great person has disciplined productivity and shares his love and life with others. The delegate must perceive and promote the gifts and talents given by the Lord. (3) He should rejoice in life. Nothing heals so quickly as genuine humor and authentic play. Joy is one of the signs of the Spirit's presence. It flows from an awareness of God's personal love and the gift of his life. Consoling Conclusion It is eminently unfair.to demand of a single individual the. multiple qualifications listed in the foregoing pag.es. Who could possibly fulfill the following want-ad posted on the community .bulletin board? WANTED!!! 25 people who are: !) dialogicai persons --who have deep capacity to listen, trust, learn --who are available, discerning, vocal 2) prophetic persons who are --sensitive, courageous, visionary --informed, prayerful, decisive 3) wounded healers who are --compassionate, non-judgmental, tender --realistic, joyful ~20'Shea, op. cit. ~:~Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Friendship." 378 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 Although applications might be filled out, no one person could qualify in every area. The first spiritual Olympics are yet to be held. Consolation comes from the fact that chapters are not made up of only one individual. Rather, they a~:e community affairs and the principle of complementarity comes inio play. What one lacks, 6thers have. The above job description is not so much one for individuals as it is for a community. Because of the blessing of pluralism, many communities could easily qualify. Tragic is the election in a community that allows a strong predominance of a single personality type. Once again, it is diversity ttiat leads to life; a di-versity grounded in concern for the kingdom. Beginnings Somewhe.re, in the night I hear you gathering pebbles for tomorrow's task.' Take care to slip a stir amidst the stones you gather; temples hold fast with dreams. Only a locust lurks in the wrinkled meadows, keeping company with the wheat that waits to be reaped by our tears. Together we will meet you at the altar when only the sound of bees will be heard preparing waxen sacrifices for your vacant vigil. Until then, I will be chanting antiphons in tune with your canticles. Sister Carole MacKenthun St. Mary Academy 250 Forest Ave., Lakewood, NI 08701 The "System" Side of Stewardship Gerald R. Amelse Mr. Amelse has been a church finance manager and consultant for sixteen years. He studied Accounting, Business Administration and Economics at The Catholic Univer-sity, the University Of Notre Dame, George Washington University and the University of Maryland. Culrently he is a partner of Calkins-Amelse Associates, which offers management services for non-profit organizations. His office is located at 4531 Pine-crest Heights Drive; Annandale, VA 22003. The widely publicized financial mishaps of several Catholic Church organi-zations in recent years have brought into question the quality of church financial management in general and of financial management in religious congregations in particular. Public attention has tended to focus on the caliber of the financial administrators and advisors involved in these cases rather than on the adequacy of the underlying systems of financial organi-zation, policies .and procedures in each instance. Responsible stewardship can result only when qualified administrators function within an appropriate financial management system. An unsound financial management system; in whole or in part, can be as inimical to responsible stewardship as unquali-fied administrators or advisors. A sound financial management system is equally important for religious congregations because of their changed environment. For several genera-tions, ~religious congregations in the United States enjoyed almost steady growth in membership, resources, activities .and facilities. Now, however, total memberships are static, if not in actual decline; new needs, such as retirem6nt, are making additional claims on already limited resources, and the maintenance of much needed apostolic acti~,itie's and institutions is be-coming increasingly more difficult. Financial management systems developed and used during previous generations may have been adequate in an era 379 380 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/3 of growth. The present environment, however, requires a system that will improve the ability of a congregation to meet~ increasing internal and apostolic needs with limited and declining resource potential. The exercise of responsible stewardship today calls for clear financial organization, appropriate financial policies, and sound budgeting, account-ing and reporting procedures. Church leaders should be concerned about the adequacy of' their organization's financial management system and anxious to improve it in each of the following areas: Financial Organ&ation A congregation's financial organization is the structure of its formal decision-making positions, the relationships between those positions, and the lines of their accountability. Besides the standard positions (treasurer, controller, and so forth) a congregation's financial organization should also identify the individuals responsible for specific programs, projects, activities and departments, and clearly define their respective roles, relationships and lines of accountability. Lack of clarity in a congregation's financial organi-zation can easily lead to flawed communications, loss of direction, duplica-tion of effort, and wastefulness in the exercise of responsible stewardship. Financial Policies A policy is a definite course or method of action, selected from .among alternatives and in light of given conditions, to guide and determine present and future decisions. Without a comprehensive set of clear financial policies, officials and administrators ~i'e, in effect, more or less free to make financial decisions according to their individual discretion rather than according to previously approved courses of action. The four major sources of financial policies for a religious congregation are: Church law, norms and guidelines; the congregation's own rule and constitution; formal enactments of the congregation,s governing body; and day-to-day operating decisions. It is the responsibility of the congregation's governing body, however, to have a summary of financial policies prepared and periodically to review and approve it. Budgeting The budget is a congregation's principal financial planning tool. The long-range planning aspect of a budget (i.e., two or more years') should identify the congregation's future sources" and uses of funds, project the amounts of revenue anticipated from each identified source and project the amounts of expenditures required for each identified use. The short-range aspect (i.e., month, quarter, year) should detail the estimated ex-penditures for each proposed program, project, activity and department, and itemize the specific means of financing the expenditures. Since the objective of a budget is the development of a financial plan, it The "System" Side o[ Stewardship / 381 is necessary to begin the budgeting process with information about the programs, projects, activities and departments which the congregation is planning for the coming year(s). Information on past performance is an importarit input to the budgeting process, but relying too heavily on ac-counting data and financial reports (which are historical in character) can create the danger that.a congregation's budget will reflect more what has happened in the past rather than what the congregation wants to happen in the future. Clear financial organization is essential for sound budgeting. A budget can not be completely useful as a planning tool until the individuals re-sponsible for each program, project, activity and department have been identified and their responsibility for performance against the plan and budget has been accepted by them. Furthermore, budgets that are prepared without the participation of the persons responsible for directing specific programs, projects, activities and departments are generally weak as plan-ning tools. Program, project, activity and d~epartments heads can not be expected to comprehend fully, agree with or conform to a financial plan in which they did not participate in developing. Accounting ~nd Reporting The financial statements of religious congregations are meant to provide superiors, administrators, members and other interested parties with a mean-ingful summarization of the congregation's overall financial condition as well as the operating results of its programs, projects, activities and ~depart-merits. In order to achieve this purpose more effectively, congregations should introduce both "fund" and "functional" accounting procedures into their basic accounting systems. A fund is a sum of money or other resource, set aside for a specific pur-pose acc~ording to restrictions imposed either by the intent of the donor or" by regulation of the congregation's officials~ Grants, annuities and endow-ments are examples of funds whose uses are restricted by the intent of the donor. A retirement fund is an example of money set aside for a specific purpose by regulation of the congregation's officials. The significant char-acteristic of fund accounting is that it classifies and records the financial transactions within each fund--assets, liabilities, receipts, disbursements and fund balances--according to the specified restrictions. Functional accounting records expenses according to specific programs, projects, activities and departments, and reports this information to the administrators directly responsible for these functions. This procedure im-proves expense control and also provides a practical basis for realistically evaluating the allocation and use of the congregation's limited resources. A congregation could be led' tO revamp its finanEial plans of action when confronted with financial information that enables a comparison of pro-gram, project, activity and department ~osts with their intended results. 3a2 / Review jot Religious, lZolume 36, 1977/3. oaelusion Financial organization, policies and procedures are not the only aspects of responsible stewardship. They are, nonetheless, essential elements of-sound financial management and control. Any congregation that finds its present management system to be somewhat inadequate should obtain qualified assistance to help review and strengthen it wherever necessary. REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits by J. R. Sheets, S.J. .50 Retirement or Vigil by B. Ashley, O.P. .30 The Confessions of Religious Women by St. M. Denis, S.O.S. 30 The Four Moments of Prayer by J. R. Sheets, S.J. .50 The Healing of Memories by F. Martin .35 The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat by H. F. Smith, S.J . 35 The Teaching Sister in the Church by E. Gambari, S,M.M. .30 The Thepiogy of the Eucharistic Presence by J. Galot, S~J. .30 The Vows and Christian Life by G. Greif, S.J. .30 New Reprints Centering Prayer--Prayer of Quiet by M. B. Pennington, O.C.S.O . 50 Colloquy of God With a Soul That Truly Seeks Him .30 Prayer of Personal Reminiscence by D. J. Hassel, S.J. 60 Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 No. Gra

Issue 20.3 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; CONGREGATION OF SEMINARIES Ecclesiasti .al Formation Prot. ,N., 2121:60 LETTER TO THE EPISCOPATE IN THE THIRD CENTI~NARY YEAR OF THE'DEATH OF ST. VIN, CENT DE PAUL ON CERTAIN PROBLEMS OF EC-CLESIASTICAL FORMATION. Your 'Excellency, On June 5th of last y.ear, the Sacred Congregation of Studies, prompted by the wonderful example of the priestly life as typified in the holy Curd of Ars, addressed a letter to the episcopate. [For the text of this letter, see REview Fort R~I.~ctous, 18 (1959), 321-27.] The,.purpose of this letter was to recall to mind some fundamental princi-ples 'of ecclesiastical formation, the lack of which might irrevocably affect the sound preparation of the candidate foi" the priesthood and thus his success in the sacred minis-try. The radiant figure of St. Vincent de Paul, whose name in the third centenary 6f his death has resounded in every corner of the world, induces us to continue and complete our thoughts on this matter. The occasion presents to us anew the life of a saint who/it can be said, was a perfect pattern of Jesus Christ, the Eternal Priest. It offers an ex-ample which merits the earnest consideration of all those who are engaged in preparing students for the priesthood, preparing those who have answered the call to fashion themselves according to the model of the Master. Do not think that w~ are presenting an anachronism; if the spir-itual conditions of the clergy and of ecclesiastical training are happily" very different from, those under which the saint carried out his ~igorous reform, nevertheless the guiding principles which were the leaven of his multiple activity ever remain valid. His activity was impir(d by the eternal value of the Gospel message. The heroic charity which permeated his whole life ca~ not be explained or understood in its full significance un-less we realize that it had its origin in his great concept of the priest and the duties of a priest. ÷ ÷ ÷ Ecclesiastical Formation VOLUME 20, 1961 I6! ÷ ÷ $ac~ed Congregation o] Seminaries REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In a time of dire calamity which he felt deeply in his heart, he knew how to confront miseries with comfort and to help all those in need. Through his w~ork of refor.m he had already enkindled in the clergy that zeal which fosters in the faithful the.well-springs of charity. It car/be safely affirmed that there are few ~who l~ave felt to the same extent as St. Vincent de Paul the shpernatural value of the priesthood and its essential importance the Church as the source of Christian life. He had in com-mon with his great contemporaries of the French school a most tender devotion to the mystery of the Incarnation and to the Priesthood of Christ; nevertheless, inspired by his own pastoral experience, he gradually develgp.ed spirituality of his own which was directed immediately towards the practical pastorate and was sustained by an ever.more earnest zeal for,the salvation of souls. His out-look ~ras determined by concrete cases and showed itself in various ways, but it was always based on this funda-mental principle that the priest is the man whom God has selected and called to participate in the Priesthood of Jesus Christ. His task is to continue the work of redemp-tion and, animated with the spirit of Christ, carry still fur-ther .the work which Christ has done and in the way He has done it. For St. Vincent de Paul, our Divine Lord is above all the Savior of mankind and the priest must be another savior who continues His mission of salvation. Therefore he clearly saw. tha_t, the firs5. qualit~ies a prie~st should possess are an ardent charity and apostolic zeal and that if the love of God be the soul of priestly activity, the object of that love must lie in the salvation o~ rfien. See how the saint emphasizes effective love of God: Let us love God, my brethren, but at the cost of our toil and the sweat of our brow. For it often happens that' the various affective acts of the love of God and the interior motions of tender heart, even if they are good and. desirable, are none the less suspect if ,t.hey do not result in effective love. Our Lord Himself says: 'In this is my Father glo~ifidd: that you bring forth very much fruit" (Jn 15:8). w~ must be on our guard be-cause there are many who think that when their exterior de-portment is correct and they are: filled with great sentiments tqwards God that they have fulfilled their duty; but.when they are confronted with the practical work of the apostolate their inadequacy is made manifest. They flatter tti~mselves with their lively imagination; they'are content to converse sweetly with God in pra~er; they even talk the language Of the~ angels; but outside of this when it is a. case of working for God, when.is a case of suffering, of mortification, of instructing the poor, of going in ~earch of lost sheep, of being content'under l~ri~,tions, of a~cepting illness and bther misfortunes, alasl they are not to be counted on, their codrage~fails. Nol Nol We must not deceive ourselves: our whole jqb consists in working.1 a St. Vincent de Paul, Correspondance, entretiens, documents, 162 edited by P. Cost~ (Paris: 1919--25), 11, 40-1. .We c~n say, then, that St. Vincent de Paul sees the priest in- the light of his ministry for souls, souls who are buried in.ignorance of the truths of the faith, souls who are in a state of sin. Or better still, he sees the priest in the light of his service of Christ Himself~' th~it Christ whom the saint kriew how to perceive clearly in the suffering members of the Mystical Body, .even though immersed in the most ab-ject spiritual and bodily misery.- His intense activity consisted in the continual oblation of himself for love of the.God whom he saw and loved in his brethren. Was this activity separated from prayer and from union with God? Such a thought would be the great-est affront to the saint bf charity, since the fire he en-kindled. in others, he had first drawn from the heart of God Himself. We can not do better than to continue the above quotation where We see how graciously the saint treats of the point in'question: ~ There is nothing more conformable to the Gospel than for us to accumu_lafe light and strength for our own souls in prayer, spiritual reading, and solitude, and then to bestow on men this spiritual food. In doing so, we are following the example of our Lord andHis Apostles; we are uniting the task of Martha to that of Mary; we are imitating the dove which itself takes a part of the food.it has gathered for its own nourishment and gives the.rest to feed its young. This is what we must do. This is how we must prove to Gbd that wd love HirfiNthrough the mh.dium"of~ our good works? The aspect'under which he loved to think of the Savior is that foretold, by the Prophet and used by Christ at the beginning of His public lifein reference to Himself: "The spirit~of the Lord is upon me. Wherefore he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor, he hath sent me to heal the contrite of heart, to preach deliverance to the cap-tives, and sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord and the day of reward" (Lk 4:18-19). The poor, those in tribula-tion and distress, were indeed the special care of Vincent de Paul even if he did not exclude any social class from his apostolic work, seeing it to be his duty as a priest to work for the salvation of all. But to the poor and humble he cer-tainly showed his preference. For them his love was bound-less; it was a love which has given us the most glorious pages, in the annals of Christian charity. They were his principal concern in his reform of the priesthood. "Make good priests" a favorite expression of his meaning "Make holy priests"--signified for him a bringing back of the clergy particularly to their mission of preaching by which th, ey would rescue the people from their ignorance of the truths of the faith and lead them away from sin. By means of this he established an indissoluble link between the See the preceding note. ÷ ÷ ÷ Ecclcslasticai Formatio~ VOLUME 2~ 1961 163 ÷ Sacred Congregation ot Seminaries REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 164 priesthood' and the laity: good priests mean a good laity; ignorant or sinful priests are their ruin. From this unify: ing principle, "As the priest, so the people," were derived all St. Vincent's projects for the formation and sanctifica-tion of the clergy: the Congregation of the Mission, for ordinands, the Tuesday conferences, clergy re-treats, and especially the establishment of seminaries. his innovations bore the stamp of God's approval, for hav-ing first given himself up to humble and unceasing prayer he then went forward with his plans slowly and carefully so as not to jeopardize, as he used often say, the work of God. That was in fact characteristic of the man: to ensure that in every undertaking, big or small, he followed will of God, avoiding all forms of impatience which is detrimental but especially so in the carrying out the designs of God. This accounts for the qualities of en-durance which characterized his work. He sought God's will in all things, straining with the single-mindedness a saint towards the perfection which was his ideal for priests. Selection and Evaluation of Candidat.es The reply of St. Vincent to those who were proposing one of his own nephews for sacred orders out of motives not altogether praiseworthy is well known. He s~tid: "F~my part had I known at the time when I haft the rashness to enter the ecclesiastical state what I subsequently learned, I would have preferred to work in the fields than to go forward to such an awe-inspiring state." If we can see here evidence of the saint's constant and profound hu-mility, we can also see an indication of his very great reverence for the priestly vocation. In those unfortunate days when men entered the priest-' hood for motives, other than the wish to serve God and save souls,. St. Vincent's only preoccupation was to prevent from such an unworthy course those "who make the just weep tears of blood." Clearly the reason for his care was that "God gives the graces needful for this hgly state only to those whom, in His goodness, He calls,''3 "Those who enter there without His call would seem to be lost.''4 In these and similar quotations there is obviously evidence of Jansenistic pessimism; we know well St, Vin'-' cent's undying hatred for the harm caused by this teaching and the part he played in its condemnation. Of course, th~ fact is that he saw the priestly vocation through the eyes a saint--in other words, in its true supernatural light. Each priest is individually chosen by God who gives St. Vincent de Paul, op. cir., 6, 155-56. St. Vincent de Paul, op. cit., 5, 569. qualities necessary for his state and the graces to live up to its obligations. It was, therefore, with the express inten-tion of testing the genuineness of vocations and making them effective for leading souls in the path of justice and salvation, that the saint applied 'himself with:unflagging zeal to the establishment of seminaries formed on the Zri-dentine decrees. His first difficulties and reverses in no way daunted him. ., The seminary is of necessity a place of selection and for-mation where~the Church lays on superiors the onus of picking out those really chosen by God in, order that these may be'brought to the height of perfection demanded of them fbr the profitable exercise of their ministry in the world. Selection and formation, therefore, are two essen-tial factors of a seminary which can not be changed. The Church d~mands that this be recognized at all times and under all circumstances. She is guided by Divine Wisdom in the adoption of new methods and their adaptation, de-ciding with loving care how to meet changing conditions. She can never afford to compromise, her fundamental at-titude when dealing with seminaries; according to their state, she flourishes or declines. 'The priesthood is such a high calling, it demands so fine a character, it confers such great powers that it must be the result of a special choice, a special vocation from God. This special vocation is essential to those who are to receive the dignity and exercise the prerogatives of the priesthood. It follows that both the student and the Church should make it their business to find out what the will of God is in each individual case: the student that he may not lightly intrude himself into a state of life so exalted and to which he can lay no claim, the Church that she may not take the risk Of conferring orders on one who has not the necessary requirements. The Church has the strict obligation to seek the signs of a true vocation in all who feel themselves called to the sanctuary. She must make sure, at the same time, that they have the quali-ties which will enable them worthily and efficiently to ful-fill their office. We know that whenever God lays on men such exalted duties and responsibilities, He gives to those so chosen sufficient graces to enable them to carry them out worthily. The candidate puts himself, forward for the judgment of. superiors. It is for the superiors to judge and act accordingly. This scrutiny begins from the time a student first enters the seminary. It ends either with his ordination or with his dismissal as soon as it becomes apparent that he is un-suitable. Each superior in a seminary has his own particu, lar sphere but each, by reason of his sacred trust, has a twofold office. He is to be an educator in the daily task of making a new man out of each of those entrusted to his ÷ + + Ecclesiastical Formation VOLUME 20~ 1961 165 + 4. 4. Sacred Congrega6on oy Seminaries REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS charge; and he is to be a judge as to whether they are corresponding to the graces they have received, as to their progress or otherwise, as to the evidence of further physi-cal and spiritual develolSment, and. as to their resistance to or inability to profit by the work of formation, it task which can not be shirked. The superiors, in their ac-tions, must be guided by the light of God to whom hearts are open and whom all hearts obey. To evaluate a vocation properly, it is indispensable know the student's whole personality. Taking qualities and abilities singly, considering weak points and defects in isolation, it is possible to be seriously mistaken. These elements must be considered under the aspect of a per-son's whole character-only thus can~ they be viewed their proper light. If we are to reach a-correct judgment on the vocation of candidates for the priesthood, we must not base that jtidgment on first impressions of a particular facet of their character. Rather, we must strive to see the whole person and thus we can reach a balanced estimate of the particular elements which form the,total character. There is a fundamental element in every person from which all the facets of his character spring.It follows, therefore, that the. superior's energy must be directed a profound study of each individual student, maximum importance to,the resourceful energy of the mind which is called will power. For example, some brilliant personalities at first make ¯ very favorable but often they are inconsistent characters who lack the necessary stability and will be unable to face tomorrow's temptations and the great trials of life ahead. They will fall victims to fatal weaknesses altogether much for their defective will power. At other times a. close scrutiny can reveal as' unjustified'the esteem held up then for .the piety or at least the devotional piety of youth who~ otherwise showed no great strength of:'charac-ter. We speak of that apparent piety which is the uncon: scious refuge of the intellectual and spiritual pauper who, once his environment is changed, will stand revealed in his weaknegs, We would insist that superiors watch closely over un-stable natures to see whether this weakness springs only from the youth of the students concerned. This will especially apparent in adolescents. On the other hand, may be a permanent defect of character, as in a youth who will apply himself to a hundred tasks without seeing through to its completion. He may be a pefson of nervous temperament, always vacillating and undecided, who puts one in mind of the: basic neurosis underlying these symptoms. Such characters as ~these, the products of, a world in ferment almost to the point of frenzy, can be blamed for their condition, but they are certainly the most suitable candidates for the ranks of the priest-hood. This requires a strong and even temperament, one ready to endure any sufferings and to take any risks for the advancement of God's kingdom. Therefore, both the who!e.personality and the. many individual traits must be thoroughly.examined, with par-ticular attention being paid to psychological and emo-tional stability. The superior is dealing with the realms of the spirit where the meeting.~of God with man is the inti-mate personal; responsibility of each individual; he must tread warily, making constant use of humble prayer, ap-proaching God with reverence, waiting and listening and sensitive to the-manifestations of His will. Supernatural means must always take the first place, but the aid which the sciences of the educationalist and the psychologist af-ford should not be forgotten. When one's own experience does not suffice, a specialist should be called in. This, of course, must involve no compromise of the faith and nothing which is contrary to Catholic morality must be countenanced. We can never be too careful in such deli-cate matters; this is especially~true because, as competent psychologists tell us, the mental maturity of modern youth frequently lags behind his physical growth---a trap for the unwary who would content themselves by judging from appearances. . In this matter, the Code of Canon Law, c. 973, §3, clearly lays down that there must be "a moral certainty based on positive arguments" . of the candidate's suitability. That is the judgment to be formed before a superior can with a safe conscience advance his candidates to holy orders. If it is impossible :to arrive at this moral certainty, the other rule must be applied, the r_ule stated by Pope Plus XI with equal clarity in his encycIical,letter .4d Catholici sacer-dotii of December 90, 1935: ", . in this [the Pope is speak-ing of dismissal from seminaries] they should keep to the most secure opinion, which in this case is the one most in favor of the penitent, for it saves him from a step which could be for him eternally fatal.''~ The. reason for this clefir~and uncompromising attitude must be evident to all who have at heart the good of the Church whose well-being depends on the qualities of her ministers. In her age-long wisdom, the Church has satis-fied herseIf of the real worth of these qualities, all the more so in view of the heavy burdens she places upon her ministers. Daily, every priest has an enormous weight of pastoral responsibility to bear. The various urgent prob-lems which clamor for his attention create tension and fatigue. He is beset with dangers at every step he takes in a world which is losing its Christian values and submitting ~Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 28 (1936). 41. ÷ + ÷ Ecclesiastical Formation VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sacred Congregation ~o! Seminaries REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 168 to a paganizing influence. In view of this, it is no wonder that the Church exercises the greatest caution in the choice of those who are to be her priests. For the sake of her good name in the world and for the common good of the faith-ful, she can not afford to advance to orders even a single one whom she deems less suitable, such is the damage she might suffer at his hands. The unsuitable student of today is the unworthy priest of tomorrow. The Church must train up young men of sound moral fiber, ready to re-spond to the highest ideals, men of deep-root.ed convic-tions, prepared for sacrifice arid self-oblation. Only then does she feel confident in presenting them to her divine Spouse for the seal of ordination. Canon law carries a warning for those who have not a true understanding of the "tutiorism" clearly set forth in both general and par-ticular terms in many papal documents. They can not escape the penalty for defaulters with regard to the canon mentioned above. In fact, they are running a grave risk of "sharing in the sins of others:" All laxism must avoided and no other method or moral system may be countenanced which departs.from the line laid down, es~ pecially when it is a matter of making a final decision on student's ability to observe clerical celibacy. Undoubtedly, some otherwise sound moralists hold opinions which can hardly be reconciled with the "tutiorism" of papal pro-nouncements and repeated above. Unfortunately, there is no escaping the fact that 'in spite of the strict instructions of the Sacred Congregation of the Sacraments (Quara ingens of December 27, 19~0, and Magna equidem of December 27, 1955) not a few candi-dates without a true vocation have been admitted to holy orders. It is not a question of mistakes due to human falli-bility, since on examination of the hist6ry of many ship-wrecks, one becomes perfectly aware that clear indications of a lack of vocation to the priesthood could have easily been noticed during the period of training in the semi-nary. Besides, the Sacred Congregation itself has been able, through periodic apostolic visitations ordered in the vari-ous countries under its jurisdiction, to verify the.fact that not infrequently the fault lies in an inadequate sifting of candidates and the retaining in seminaries of students of little promise either from the human or from the supernatural point of view. It would seem that the policy of many superiors is guided by ~the sad state of dioceses which are hampered by a serious lack of priests. How can one act differently, one hears it asked, when we have not the necessary organization for pastoral work---even for the bare. administration of the sacraments? Is it'not per-haps better to have priests, even if they are not the best type of priests, as long as they provide ior the basic spiritual needs of the faithful? Such a utilitarian concept of the priesthood constitutes a denial of the very essence of the priestly vocation and the priestly ministry. Even if it is true that the efficacyof the sacraments does not de-rive from the goodness of the~minister, yet it is no less a fact that the building up of Christian life is closely bound up with the holiness of God's priests. Their mission, as seen from the Gospels, consists precisely in enlightening their flock and protecting them from corruption, not only iby means of grace, but also by the personal example of 'their lives (see Mt 5:13-14). We must not reduce the priest to the level of a mere bureaucrat of the things of God by ignoring his personal qualities and depriving him of the glory of his intimate union with Christ, a union which consists not only in sharing in His powers but also in copy-ing His virtues. This would be to deny in practice the in-escapable demands of the Catholic priesthood and its transcendent dignity. Preoccupation with numbers regardless of quality is clearly seen to be a mistaken policy. The admission to the sacred ministry of men who are only mediocre is a corrupting influence not only on the zeal of their fellow priests whose apostolic effort is thereby lessened but above all on thd intensity of the religious life of the laity. This last, of course, is a necessary condition for the birth of good and numerous vocations. It is' well to remember that in the ordinary course of events the appearance and develop-ment of priestly vocations d~rive from the personal action and example of the priest as from their instrumental cause. It is an undeniable fact that vocations flourish where there are real men of God~' SuCh men who believe in and love the sublime things they handle show forth in all its pure beauty the ideal which they preach. Acting as poles of attraction, they enkindle the spark of the divine call in generous souls who respond to living example rather than to mere words. Let it therefore be quite clear that preoccupation with numbers, whenever it tends to compromise quality, is self-destructive, slowly but surely drying up the sources of vo-cations and paralyzing the work of divine grace. It shows a weak faith, as we see from the vigorous words of Pope Plus XI, quoting St. Thomas Aquinas: Bishops and religious superiors should not be deterred from this needful severity by fear of diminishing the number of priests for the diocese or institute. The Angelic Doctor, St. Thomas, long.ago proposed this difficulty and answered it with his usual lucidity and wisdom: "God never abandons His Church; and so the number of priests will be always sufficient for the needs of the faithful, provided the worthy are advanced and the un-worthy sent away." . We reaffirm that one well-trained priest is worth more than many trained badly or scarcely at all. For ÷ ÷ Ecclesiastical Formation VOLUME 20, 1961 169 4, 4, Sacred Congregation o~ Seminaries REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 170 such would not be merely unreliable but a likely souxce of sor-row to the Church,° This Sacred Congregation, therefore, demands with all the force that accrues from its high mandate of watchful-ness, that the most exact and scrupulous care be taken in the choice of candidates. We exhort all those responsible for the task of selection not to minimize in the slightest degree, the wise rules laid down in this matter by Holy Church. Are we to allow ourselves to be overtaken in this respect also by'the children of darkness? We are well aware of the great care these latter exercise in the selection and training of those of their disciples who show the greatest natural gifts and display an ability to influence others; their intention is to use such men to permeate the masses and gain them for their own ends. It is a principle both human and divine that the fate of institutions depends on quality and not on numbers. "Gidedn, with an im-mense host at his command, a host seemingly ready to face any danger or difficulty, hears it said to him by the Lord that in great enterprises, one must count on few, not on many. Selection is the rule of existence, of progress, and of perfection.''7 Let us, therefore, rest our hopes on those alone who are chosen by the Lord. Filled with the spirit of Christ, these men will be the vigorous band who by the integrity of their lives and their burning zeal for souls, will,lead the people of God back to the pure.sources of Christian life, thus ensuring the growth of a vigorous generation of priests. The Training of .Seminarians "To devote oneself to making good priests and~ to co-operate to this end as the secondary, efficient, and instru-mental cause, is to fulfill the very task of Jesus Christ. Our Divine Lord during His life on earth seems to have taken it as His very special work to train twelve good priests, His Apostles; with this end in view, He deigned to stay with them some years to instruct and train them for this sacred ministry." Teachers in seminaries must, then, be intimately united to Christ and must give themselves com-pletely to Him, for their work is the priestly work par excellence, "the most difficult, the most sublime, the most important for the salvation of souls and the progress of Christianity.''s "To make'more perfect priestsl Who can understand' the sublimity of this work?"9 "To make good priests is the greatest achievement in the world; it is ira-e Ad Catholici sacerdotii, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 28 (1936), 44. ~ John XXIII, "Discourse ~to the Students of the Roman Colleges," January 28, 1960, in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 52 (1960),272. sSt. Vincent de Paul, op. cir., 11, 7-8. * St. Vincent de Paul, op. cir., 11, 9. possible to conceive anything greater or more impor-tant." 10 For St. Vincent de Paul, therefore, those who have the task of educating candidates for the sanctuary can only be described as the perpetuation of Christ in th.eo~ighest realms of the priesthood. Such m~n carry on the teaching work of our Savior, instilling into the youths called to fol-low Him, those principles which He Himself taught to His Apostles before He sent them out tO procla.,im the message of salvation before men. It follows from this that in the mind of the saint, the seminary must be nothing other than a school in which the students, by means of a fitting preparation, learn those things both human and divine which they will need later if they are to bring forth the fruits of salvation. But they must learn these lessons from their superiors who, for them, stand in the place of Christ and who must be capable of instilling in them the spirit of Christ. The saint's spirituality is vigorous, Some have even con-sidered it hard, but such people have stopped at the mere letter of his vehement teaching without considering the thought behind it. It is true that he never tires of preach-ing reunciation, sacrifice, and detachment from family and from worldly goods; he demands the unconditional surrender of the will; he condemns in no uncertain terms indolence and laziness; he. brands pride as the chief ob-stacle to the triumph of grace in the soul of the priest. He insists on penance as the undoubted means of bearing fruit in the sacred ministry; he exalts the value of suffer-ing, renunciation, sacrifice, and detachment fromrfamily, the complete submission of one's own spirit in order to possess the spirit of Christ. Here we have the pure teach-ing of the Gospel, untainted by compromise or human considerations. It is from the Gospel that the Vincentian method of seminary training gains its strength and vigor. If the saint demands renunciation and sacrifice, he shows them in the light of the love of Christ and of souls. He preaches death too but only as the gateway to a richer life; he too takes the shears to the vine to prune it, to cut away all that is disordered and superfluous, but it is in order that the plant may have a more vigorous growth; he too preaches immolation in union with Christ, but it is as a way of coming to the triumph of the Resurrection at Easter and to the fullness of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost. Because he was intolerant of any form of self-love, including that kind which is more subtle and capable of cloaking itself ambiguously under the most plausible pretexts, he had a heart as vast as the ocean, a heart which was most t~nder, always ready to sympathize with every form of misery, ~°St. Vincent de Paul, up. cir., 12, 14. + + + Ecclesiastical Formation Sacred Congregation of Seminaries REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 172 and to beat with a zeal which in him was a devouring flame. Worthy friend of St. 'Francis de Sales, he possessed the delicate virtues of meekness and forbearance; he could rise on the wings of the supernatural over the limitations of human nature and yet stoop with understanding to its weaknesses. He was the Good Samaritan who saw in hu-man nature the humanity of Christ. For this reason he looked upon it with serenity and kindness, seeing it as the necessary foundation on which the dignity of redeemed mankind had to be built. But being conscious of its weak-nesses, he would allow it no more than the role of a means, never that of an end: "For he that will save his life, shall lose it; and he that shall lose his life for my sake, shall find it" (Mt 16:24-25). It is often repeated, and not without truth, that prior to making priests, the teachers in our seminaries should make it their first care to train upright men. The purpose of this assertion is to emphasize the importance of human qualities in the full priestly personality. This is the sincere mind of the Church. She demands precisely the presence of notable natural gifts in formulating a positive judg-ment on the worthiness of candidates, and these are the foundation, the starting point, of the ecclesiastical forma-tion. A vocation does not involve the rejection of the hu-man qualities of man. On the contrary, it places the high-est value on what he is by nature and by grace. The God who gives the divine call is the same God who has be-stowed the gifts and who waits for the day when these talents show their increase (see Lk 19:22 ft.). Grace does not destroy nature; but, according to a Thomistic princi-ple so very fertile in the field of theology, it restores, puri-fies, elevates, and transforms nature. Moreover, it can even be said that, in the ordinary course of events, nature con-ditions grace inasmuch as the action of grace is facilitated where human qualities abound, whereas it is stultified where human qualities are lacking. Consequently, any-thing which is contrary to nature has no part in Christian and priestly virtues; and any educational system which dis-dains natural virtues, even though it be presented under worthy pretexts, would be unreasonable and confusing and fraught with dire consequences. It could become the rock on which the frail barks of many vocations, guided by inexpert helmsmen, would founder. Much more en-couraging is the exhortation of the Apostle: "For the rest, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever modest, whatsoever just, whatsoever holy, whatsoever lovely, what-soever of good fame, if there be any virtue, if any praise of discipline: think on these things" (Ph 4:8). A wise teacher, then~ conscious of his responsibilities with regard to his students and in the eyes of the Church, will consider with religious care the individuality of each one and will know how to accept, stimulate, and develop the precious per-sonal gifts of each character. However; there has arisen today even in ecclesiastical circles an excessive tendency to ghrink from these duties as educators and to submit ~' ~l~e iiadividualism df oi]r mod-ern youth who seem intolerant of all discipline. There is much talk of how the child must be prepared for future responsibility by reducing restrictions in the field of edu-cation. In the community as a whole, self-government, the vital spirit of democracy, and group decisions are widely praised. This involves an ever decreasing guidance or so-called "interference" from superiors. They accept, that is, if not in theory, at least in practice, the conclusions of certain authorities whose theories, though much in vogue, are nonetheless reprehensible: We may rightly include under this category, those modern theories which, though presented under different names, agree in regarding it as fundamental in all forms of education that children should be allowed to mold their characters entirely at their own will and discretion, Advice from teachers, or elders is rejected and no account is taken of any law of assistance, human or divine. '. Unhappy illusionl Claiming.to emancipate the Child, they enslave'him; they make him a slave to arrogant pride and irregular desire, to a pride and passion which, if their system is true, are to be approved as the needs of an autonomous human nature?a Such theories owe their origin to an over-optimistic con-cept of human nature. They do not appreciate the frailty and inadequacy of man, nor, in his fallen state, his need to be ruled if he is to achieve self-control. This is above all the case with adolescents and young people who are natu-rally immature and often lured by merely transient en-thusiasms and torn by conflicting emotions. "The same thing is not possible for one who has a virtue and for one who does not have it; so too the same thing is not possible for a boy and for a perfect man".''~s If they lack singleness of purpose and perseverance, our students will never be able to control their impulses. In all kindness they must be made to accept subjection to rule and to realize the force of law. In this way, they will acquire deep-rooted habits which will neither stifle thei~ conscience nor restrict their liberty, but which are, on the contrary, the source of freedom and a guarantee of its ex-ercise. There is no doubt that the authority of the su-perior should control the liberty of the student but always in an atmosphere of mutual confidence, active collabora-tion, and charitable understanding. Thus[ the student's development will not stop short at mere p~assive submis-sion, bu.___~t will go to the very roots of his personality. n Pius XI, Divini illius Magistri in Acta Apos,tolicae Sedis, 22 (1950), 69-70. = St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 1-2, 9.6, 2. + + + Ecclesiastical Formation VOLUME 20, 1961 173 Sacred Congregation of Seminaries REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Therefore, we can not approve of the attitude adopted in some institutions where there is not the necessary in-sistence on the fundamental value of the rule in the for-mation of young men for the Church: Discipline is the rule .of life and the way of virtue. If a rule life is necessary for men in general, how much more necessary is it for those called to the priesthood. Therefore, the discipline of the seminary and the observance of rule, even on minor points, should be close to the heart of every student. Superiors are necessary just as Supervision is necessary, but clerics should behave and fulfill their duties without the need of a superior to watch over them.= ~'o ask young students still in the process of formation to carry out their many duties without the help of a full and'detailed rule, to refuse them the benefits of a well ordered discipline, is to leave them a prey to uncertainty and to deprive them 6f an atmosphere which would be most helpful to their own personal efforts. The daily "bearing and forebearing" of a rule observed in detail will bring much fruit. It will develop reserves of will power; will prepare characters of strength and perseverance; and it will foster balanced and methodical minds, minds which will be able to remain master of themselves and control the situations which inevitably arise from the clash with the difficulties of life. We repeat therefore: It is one thing take care that our students, while being obliged to carry out their duty even to the smallest detail, are imbued with right principles both human and divine such as will en-able them to assume responsibili'ty in the future; it is an-other to exclude or compromise the actual value of the obligation. If discipline is to be fully effective, individual teachers must not operate in isolation. On the contrary, one must work together with his colleagues, taking c~re, however, not to intrude unduly in the province of any other. With this collaboration and guided by like con-victions, all can work for the progress of the seminary as a whole. We do not intend to evolve these ideas fully here. But, unfortunately, we must take notice of the fact that natu-ralism seems to have penetrated even into some institu-tions for ecclesiastical training. This has been partly due to those who universally condemn the past as unsuited to the task of forming new generations of young priests and who eagerly search for "up-to-date" methods. Yet an-other cause is the rather fatalistic passivity of those who indeed regret in their heart of hearts this dangerous in-novation in the field of education but still accept it as the inevitable consequence of living in our times. In these instances, there is evidence of a gradual decline which ~ St. Plus X, "Discourse to the Seminaries of Milan," October 14, 174 1908, in Enchiridion Clericorum, n. 827. seems to be affecting every aspect of ecclesiastical educa-tion. The common factor in the whole process seems to be an apprecxable lessemng of the supernatural element. The true foundauons of genmne oecclestast.lca! education prayer, intimate union with Gbd, a spirit of mbrtifica-tion, humility, obedience, withdrawal, and. s.eparauon from the world are retreating ever more into the background to be.replaced by externahsm under the g~ ~se of chanty. The intention is to '~'understand" our' era and the new generation. In reality, it only means givi~ng way to its Shortcomings. One has the impressi6n that teachers, far from exercising restraint, have encouraged and even be-come. obsessed with what is novel and untried. They are concerned rather to grant what would most ~tplease the stu-dent than to insist.on what wouldbe most beneficial, and they have not the courage xo ask.for self-dehial and sacri-rice. ! ¯ But Christ asks for both ~self-~en~al and s crifice. "Deny yourself'.' (Mr 16:24) is at the root of all Hislteaching, and ~t contains the,key to the secret of Christiari vocation and above, all the priestly, calling. The priest is the man of sacrifice, chosen to fill up by his own suffering, sacrifices, and his daily self-immolation that which ~s wanting m the sufferings of Christ (see Col 1:1 2 ) . H . eI ~Socalled to,bear fruits of grace; but without the Cross therelcan be no re-demption (see Heb 9:22). He is called to be alshining'light, but this can only be if he is aflame,with the spirit of self-sacrifice. We need hardly say that this liker~ess to C~hrist, Priest and Victim, must begin in the semirlary.We well realize how long the road is and how strong the resistance of human nature, for many "follow Jesus to the breaking of bread, but few to the drinking of the chalice~of His Passion.TM It is essential, therefore, that ou} students be-gin their self-denial and sacrifices from the loutset. Thus they may come to understand the truth and joy contained in these, words: I But blessed is that man who fir thee, O Lord; abandons all things created; who offers violenc~ to nature and through fervor of spirit crucifies the concupiscence of. the flesl~, so that with serene conscience he.may offer to thee pure prayer and become worthy to be admitted among the choir of angels, having ex-cluded himself both exteriorly and interiorly[ from all the things of earth.~ ., Above all, we must insist on the conflict which Christ Himself emphasized, between His ~spirit andI the'spirit of the world, the world for which Christ did[not wish to pray since it was already permeated wit[i the[spirit of evil and hardened against grace. Therefore His o~n must not :: ~.hKOemma~S,~.'~e:sP.i~, Zmitation o, Christ, ~, 1,, 1. " " P'o , o ¯ I 4. + Ecclesiastical Formation . VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sacred Congregation oy Seminaries REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS be of this world, just as He Himself was not of it (see Jn 17:9 and 14-16; 1 Jn 5:19). They must appreciate that they are consecrated ~o the things of heaven and that al-though taken from the world, they are no longer of it. Only as they detach themselves from the attractions of the world, from its principles, from its methods and from its facile compromises, will they become the salt of the earth and the light of the world. They must be made to realize that a priest does not cut himself off from his own times simply because he refuses to accept their fallacies. In a word, "the man dedicated to the Church, walks indeed this earth, but his mind and heart must look to heaven.''le Likewise in the delicate question of the students' as-cetical training, it is necessary to move slowly and with discretion and to maintaina gentle but firm hand: "ford-ter in re, suaviter in modo" or, to quote our saint, "firm-ness and constancy regarding the end, sweetness and hu-mility regarding the meansY This simply means that we must go back to the' life and teaching of our Savior which, if well presented, exert an irresistible attraction on the minds of the young. Nothing can equal these pure founts. Our students must be led to a spirit of intimacy with Christ, they must live according to that spirit which brings truth and freedom. They must believe in Christ with that strong faith urged by St. John (14:1), that faith which im-plies an unquestioning acceptance of His word, complete. confidence in His help, and a loyalty and correspondence with grace, even to forgetfulness of self. Through 'their daily contact with their Divine Master, they will be im-pelled to be more like Him (see 2 Cor $: 18), to assume His spirit, and thus gradually to achieve "unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the age of the fulness of Christ" (Eph 4:13). This seems to us to be'the royal way, in fact, the only way, in which our students can be made into the apostles of the future, "perfect men, furnished to every good work" (2 Tim 3:17), who will contribute successfully towards "the edifying of the body of Christ" (Eph 4:12). In fact, zeal for souls has always been nourished by a deep spiritual life and by a mortification which is wholly directed to- Wards personal holiness. But there is always a danger of destroying in a short space of time what has taken much labor to prepare. We are referring especially to the impatience, so common these d~ys, whereby our young students are submitted too easily and without the necessary precautions to trials which are beyond their strength. The aim of this, it is said, is that they may become aware of the surroundings 1e John XXlII, "Discourse to. Roman Colleges," in ,4cta Apos- 176 tolicae Sedis, 52 (1960), 262-70. advocate this method deceive themselves inl thinking that I in this way they are securing students against the dangers they are bound to meet with and that at ~he same time they are arousing in them at an early stage, [ m action and by action," the spirit that must animate their future apostolate. Yet they flatter themseh, es th~,t the diocese will thus be supplied with better priests; priests who from the beglnmng of their pastoral work will b'~e able to pro-duce more results and better results; priests who are .in the public eye, leaders of men, who are inla position to bear faithful witness to the Gospel. This policy of haste is not only based on a!mistaken ner-spectlve, ~n so far as it gxves first place to what must neces- I sarily take second place both in importance and in se-quence; but m addmon ~t presupposes somethang whxch does not exist at all, namely, a sp~rxtual, ~nt~ellectual, and moral maturity that is essential if this exper~.ence of which we speak is to be of profit. What is more, it distorts the nature and aim of the seminary as conceived by the Church's legislation. The seminary is not a~ad never can be a place for testing theories and still le~ss a training ground for dangerous and compromising actxwues. It can be nothing other than a home for deep ~piritual and intellectual formation. O1: course, the futureI apostolate is and, must be a source of inspiration, but anyI practical ex-perience must come by degrees and only when the student has reached the requisite standard. Such is th~ mind of the Popes. They are so concerned with keeping the true aim of the seminary intact that they visualize a particular in-stitution with the specific task of initiating the young priests into the various fields of the apostolat6. In this way the transition from the quiet of the seminary is brought about naturally and, with a more adequateI preparation in theory and practice, the danger of eventual spiritual unbalance is precluded,x7 | TO destroy the whole balance of the life~of our semi-naries and their proved worth on the plea of a~n imaginary "apostolate of action" must of necessity do ~mmense harm~' Indeed, it is to be feared that, if priests of t~e future are trained by such a method based on activity, they will not be able to perform really fruitful apostolic ~lwork. They will not be able to surmount difficulties andl discourage-ment and will fall an easy prey to the moral ihstability of ttle restless and treacherous world in which ~ve live. Ex-perience teaches that the bridling of the passions is an interior achievement that must be accomplished in the secret depths of the soul. It takes place slowly ~nd only by a~ See Menti Nostrae (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 42 [1950] 691-92) and the motu proprio Quandoquidem (Acta Apostolicae S~,dis, 41 [1949], 1.65-67). 4. Ecclesiastical Formation VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sacred Congregation oJ Seminaries REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS means of reflection and recollection. If we allow our stu-dents to throw themselves into external activity, if we leave them free to indulge in that kind of enthusiasm which could easily lead them away from their strict but necessary life of piety and study--even if it is to gain experience of the apostolate---does it not mean, perhaps, that we are drawing them away from their day to day formation which is nourished on prayer, study, and sacri-fice? And at length when their training in the seminary is at an end and they have to face the serious reality of life without sufficient preparation, is it not to be feared that passions suppressed but'not truly subjugated will return? The results of such an education can be observed while still in the seminary. A weakening of piety, a lack of in-clination for all forms of study and especially for specu-lative thought, a discipline that is undermined at its very foundations, and, above all, the appalling superficiality that is found in various branches of education--surely these things are incapable of producing true apostles for the Church. Here we can appropriately quote a saying of St. Vincent de Paul. It can serve as a general rule of- be-havior but it has a special value :when applied to educa~ tion. "Good works fail because people act in too great haste, because they act on their own impulses. This haste has the effect of obscuring the mind and reason and pre-sents the object as possible and opportune. It is not so, and subsequent failure makes it evident.''is Accordingly, rather than use doubtful methods to train a priest just for the present, we must make every effort to form one who will be a priest forever. Conclusion I Your Excellency, before concluding this present letter' in which we have sought to express our concern on cer-, tain matters, we can not but address a last word to the teachers in our seminaries. Whatever position they hold, they are well aware of the seriousness of their duties and of the great responsibility "they bear before God for their students, whom they are seeking to train for the high office that awaits them. In this .unremitting yet hidden toil, which often brings little human satisfaction though it earns much merit, they must never forget their great aim. We are all fully convinced of the importance of en-vironment. Therefore the good will of the students must be encouraged and they must be helped at every stage, of their path towards priestly perfection with all the a.ssist: ance they require. Above all, we would wish that the golden words of Pope Leo XIII be engraved in the hearts of all: 178 nSt. Vincent de Paul, op. cit., 4, 122. n their own field, a personal example of a full, priestly life. l'he example of those in authority, especially for the young, is he most eloquent and persuasive way of convificing them of heir own duties and of fostering a love of wrtue. It is good then that teachers in our semin~aries should se outstanding for their natural gifts, w.hich can win for hem the esteem and trust of their pUpils.°But~ at the same ime, they must realize that natural qualities hnd achieve-nents are of httle use ff they are not ammated by a deep plr~tual hfe. Only th~s can ensure that their work will be ,f real value and bear fruit. The Dlwne Maste.r who dwells n our hearts and speaks to us there "Christ is our ! eacher and He is within us"=0--will be ev, er ready to ,less, increase, .and perfect their work which, by the "rovidence of God, is destined to spread thd mystery of ~Iis Love. We are certain that Your Excellency will ~.ee that this etter be brought to the attention of the superiors of your emmary for their careful cons~deranon. At the same ume, -¢e gladly take this opportunity of express~,ng tO Your ;xcellency our feelings of highest esteem. Rome, Sep-ember 27, 1960.] Yours devotedly in our Lord, JOSEPH Cardinal PIZZARDO, Suburbican Bishop of Albano, Prefect. DINO STAFFA, Titular Archbishop of Caesarea in Palestine, Secretary. Leo XIII, Fin dal principio in Acta Leonis XIII, 22, 254-55. St. Augustine, In lo, 5, 19 (PL 35, 1557). ÷ ÷ ÷ Ecclesiastical Formation VOLUME 20, 1961 179, JAMES I. O'CONNOR, S.J. Some Aspects Religious Authori9 ÷ ÷ ÷ James I. O'Connor, S.J. is professor of canon law at West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. REVIEW FOR'RELIGIOUS In the Church there are different kinds of authority, One form of authority is called jurisdiction and is the pub lic power of ruling or governing others. It is called publit because it is a power belonging to a perfect society for tht direction of its subjects to the end for which the saic society was constituted. Thus defined, it is a power which belongs both to the State and to the Church. If we narro~ our consideration to jurisdiction in the Church, we can de fine it more fully as the public power of a legitimate su perior, granted by Christ or by His Church through ~ canonical mission, of governing baptized persons to tht achievement of their eternal salvation. This power, native to the Church by reason of its con stitution as set up by Christ, can be and is shared by tht immediate or constitutive parts of the Church by reasor of a canonical mission for the attainment of the purpose o~ the Church. Immediate parts of the Church are diocese: and the clerical exempt religious institutes, As a result! local ordinaries and superiors in clerical exempt religiou: institutes possess true jurisdiction, although the bases art different in each case: in the first case, it is territorial; ir the second, personal. Other moral persons in the Church do not possess juris diction because they are not immediate divisions of tht Church; that is, they are subject to the authority of ar immediate section; "examples of such are parishes, none exempt religious institutes, and so forth. Consequently~ such divisions are sometimes called mediate sections of tht Church. If such a division has jurisdiction, it is by specia~ grant, not by reason of its nature. Within the perfect society which is the Church, w~ find also other societies which are imperfect in the sens, that they are not self-sufficient and are not independen'li although they have a purpose of their own which, how. ever, is a means to obtain the purposes of the Church. Ex amples of such societies are religious institutes. Therefore, ander different aspects, clerical exempt re'ligious insti-tutes are both immediate and mediate sections of the Church whereas all other religious institutes, are mediate ~ections only. Just as the Church in itself and in its cons,ututive divi- ,ions has authority to govern its subjects (and such power I s called jurisdiction), so also the mediate secuons must have and do possess authority for their proper govern-ment. Since this latter authority ~s not jur~s~hct~on, It ~s :alled dominative power. Both types of powerlor authority are set down in canon 501, §1 of the Code of Canon La¯ w: 'The superiors and chapters, conformably to the consu-tutions and to the umversal law, have dominative or .z°vernin~'o~-r~°wer over their sublects,o and .in eve~ ~ exem p t :lerical institute, they have ecclesiastical jurisaiction in both the internal and external fora." ~i UP to the present century, by way of to juris-cfion as a 'public power to govern, dominhtive power as often called a private power. It was calledI dominative power because it was understood as the power or force .~xercised not only on the matter or content ~of the com-mand- theth "ing to be done or not to be done--but also ~n the will of the subject so that the will oflthe subject igree with that of the superior. Perfect s.u~bjection or ibedience brings the intellect of the subject xn,to harmony qith that of the superior insofar as such subjection may )e possible ~ in view o~ the evidence presented to the in-ellec~. By way o[ further distinction, a third kind 6f authority vas recognized by some writers. They called ~it domestic ~ower or authority. This is the power, for exar~ple, ~vhich ~ religious superior exercises over lay peopleI who work or the community; it is also the power of a ~resident of ~ commercial firm, or the supervisor of a hospital floor or . he head o[ a department has over the employees, It is the ~ower or force over the matter or content of the command ,nly--the thing to be done or not done; there ~ no power ,ver the will, much less over the intellect of th~ employee. While these were the usual distinctions of r~ligious au-hority, they did not cover all the authority of a religious uperior, even in a non-exempt institute. A r~,ligious su- ,erior has authority over many things which ,do not fall .nder dominative and domestic power as described above. 7h ose powers all deal w"~th phy"sical persons~, iwith in" d~- iduals. Some illustrations of a religious superior's au-orxty not exercised over lnd~v~duals as such, at least dl-ectly, are the following: admission to the no,~t~ate and ~ religious profession; limited power to dispense from n.pediments to such admission; administration, of the re- .g~ous community as such; administration of the tern- Religious Authority VOLUME 20, 1961 + 4. 4. James I. O'Connor, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 182 poralities of the entity over which one has authority, example, to contract loans, negotiate sales, lease property and so forth. What kind of authority is this in the case a superior in a non-exempt religious institute? For centuries it was very disputed among canonist., whether such authority was part of the dominative powel of religious superiors.1 Spearheaded by Father (now dinal) Larraona,~ the opinion that such authority was anc is part of the dominative power of a religious superiol gained ground in the present century. As a result, the olt description of dominative power as a purely private powel had begun to fall by the wayside and certainly seems belong there in view of a rather recent reply from tht Holy See. The power in a society has to correspond to it nature. That nature is public since religious institutes art set up by pontifical authority .as a public state of life More%ver, the Church through lawful representatives r ceives-the vows of such religious and these vows are publi both in themselves and in their effects (Canons 488, 1° 1308, §1). Canon 501, §1 acknowledges only two kinds o authority in religious life: jurisdiction and dominativt power. Since in a non-exempt institute the authority is no jurisdiction and since the power over such things as tern poral administration is not a private power, dominativt power must now be classified in two forms: public ant private. Relative to jurisdiction, many questions can arise; fo~ example, kinds of jurisdiction, delegation and subdelega tion of jurisdiction, conferral of jurisdiction in cases whert a doubt is had as to whether a person possesses or cat possess jurisdiction, conferral of jurisdiction on a persor who objectively does not have it but is commonly believec to have it. All these, as well as some other aspects of juri diction, are nicely provided for in canons 196 to 209. N such provision was made in canon law for correspondin' questions pertinent to dominative power. Nevertheless the same questions.and problems can and do arise fo non-exempt religious superiors. All the discussions which proposed solutions to suc] vexing questions were finally brought to an end by al affirmative reply of the Pontifical Commission for th Authentic Interpretation of the Canons of the Code c Canon Law. An affirmative answer was given on March 2~ 1952, to the question: "Whether the prescriptions c 1Those interested in this dispute and the development of th notion of dominative power are referred to a study by the preser writer, "Dominative Power of Religious Superiors," which was pul fished in The Jurist, 21 (1961), 1-26. ~ "De potestate dominativa publica in iure canonico," in Congressus luridici Internationalis, v. 4 (Rome: Pontificium Insl tutum Utriusque Iuris, 1937), 145-80. canons 197, 199, 206-09, concerning the power of jurisdic-tion, are to be applied, unless the nature of the text or context of the law prevent it, to the dominative power which superiors and chapters have in rehg~ous institutes and in societies of men and womenliving in 'common with-out public vows?''a Many religious superiors seem never to'.have heard of this reply, much less of the canons cited, their wording, and their interpretation. Therefore, we shall :first give an Enghsh translauon of those canons, substa, tuung dorm-native power for jurisdiction so that it will be easier to read, understand, and, later, comment upon them. Canon 197, § 1. Ordinary dominative powei: is that which the law itself attaches to an office; delegated]power is that which is committed to a person, §2. Ord:'.nary power can be neither proper or vicari-ous. Canon 199, §1. One who has ordinary dom,inative power can delegate it to another totally or partial,ly, unless the law expressly provides otherwise. §2, Moreover, dominative power which ,has been dele-gated by the Apostolic~ See can be subde~egated for a single act or habitually, unless the delegate was chosen be-cause of his personal qual,ficauons or subdele.gatmn is for, bidden. §3. Power delegated for a whole class of. cases by one who has ordinary power but is subordinate t0 the Roman Pontiff can be subdelegated in individual cases. §4. In other cases, delegated dominative power can be subdelegated only if subdelegation is expressly permitted. §5. No subdelegated power can ~n turn be subdele-gated unless the power to do so has been expressly granted. Canon 206. If several persons have been d~legated suc-cessively, that one must execute the busines~ whose com-mission was given first and has not been expressly re-voked by a later rescript. Canon 207, §1. Delegated power ceases to exist: by fulfillment of the commission; by lapse of time or by exhaustion of the nut Lber of cases for which it was granted; by cessation of the reason for the delegation; by revocation by the delegator together with lirect notice to the party delegated; or by renunciation on the part o[ the one d, elegated to-gether with direct notice to and acceptance ~by the dele-gator. However, delegated power does not cease with the expiration of the authority of the delegator ekcept in the tw~ cases mentioned in canon 61 . 8Acta Apostolicae Sedis, 44 (1952), 497; T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., Canon Law Digest, v. 3 (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1953), 73. + 4. 4. Religious Authority VOLUME 20, 1961 183 4. 4. ]ames I. O'Connor, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 184 §3. When several persons have been delegated cor-porately, if one of them loses his power, the delegation of all the others also expires, unless the contrary appears from the tenor of the delegation. Canon 208. In accordance with the norm of canon 183, §2, oidinary power does not expire with the expiration of the authority of the person who conceded the office to which the power is attached. However, it does cease with the loss of the office and is suspended by appeal made ac-cording to law, unless the appeal happens to be made with-out suspensive effect, saving the provisions of canons 2264 and 2284. Canon 209. In common error or in positive and proba-ble doubt of law or of fact, the Church supplies dominative power for the external forum. We shall now give some commentary on each of these canons as well as illustrations of their application and non-application. Canon 197 The word ordinary here is a technical term and is not to be confused with our everyday usage of the word as meaning usual, regular, habitual, and so forth. For power to be ordinary two things must be verified: 1) the power must be given by the law itself, whether that law be the Code of Canon Law or the constitutions, which are the particular law of the religious institute; 2) the power con-ferred by this general or particular law must be attached to an office in the institute. An office, as canon 145, §1 tells us, is a function permanently established by divine or ecclesiastical ordinance, conferred conformably to the sa-cred canons, and carrying with it some participation in ecclesiastical power of orders or jurisdiction, or (now in virtue of the 1952 reply) dominative power. Thus, the power of a superior to govern the house or the province or the whole institute is ordinary dominative power be-cause the power is conferred in canon 501, §I of the code and is attached to the office of superior, no matter who may be the incumbent .in the office. The details of that power are partly spelled out in later canons of the code and partly in the constitutions. Some examples of ordinary power from the code are: government of the community over which one is superior; administration of the temporalities of the entity in which one holds office; admission to novitiate and to religious profession; limited prolongation of postulancy, novitiate, and temporal profession; anticipation of renewal of tem-porary profession; change of cession and disposition of one's property; admission of outsiders into cloister in certain instances; egress of religious from cloister under certain conditions; exclusion from renewal of temporary vows or admission to perpetual vows; in all communities, the conduct of the preparatory process fo~/ dismissal of perpetually professed members and, in diocesan law in-stitutes, also that for dismisSal of temporaiily professed members. Not every superior ~has all these powers: some be-long only to the superior general; others ark had also by provincials; still others are possessed by the 16cal superior. Just which superior, alone or conjointly with! another, has these powers must be learned: from reading ~he code and the constitutions. ~i. Some common examples of ordinary power from par-cular law, that is, the constitutions, are: reception of isitors; going out to visit; making trips; dispensation from disciplinary articles of the constitutions; and ]o forth. The details determining the exercise of such po.wers will, in each case, have to be gleaned from the constitutions. Delegated power is defined in the canon. It is any power ~or ta bueth iomriatyg iwnehdic, hw iist hnoout to crdoinnsairdye.r Dinegl etghaet ep~lr psoonw eorf cthane ~lelegate whereas ordinary power can be conceived even though nobody holds the office to which the law attaches ~1 e authority. Ordinary power ~s inherent ,to the office; ~elegated power must always be invested in aI person. r Delegation is conferred by word of mouth or in writing wh l"ch may be the written law itself or some other form of ocument or rescript. A rescript ~s s~mply a written reply to a question or petition. Delegated authority must always be given expressly. Express conferral may be explicit or implicit. Explicit :lelegation is had when the superior in so many words nforms another that he is hereby given suct~-and-such a ~ower or faculty or authority. Implicit delegauon is ~ower of authority or a faculty which ~s not conferred in o many words but which is contained witl~in another ~ower or faculty explicitly conferred which, m turn, can ~ot be exercised either at all or, at least, not ade-quately unless the other power or facul'ty is also ~ossessed. In such a case that other power or faculty s implicitly conferred. Thus, for example, a supe- "ior delegates a subject to investigate a t~oublesome ~tuauon and take care of it. This is explicit delega-ion. When the investigation is made, the delegate finds hat the effective way to correct it is to revoke ~ delegated aculty of the party concerned or to impose a penance. qowever, the superior did not tell the delegate he had he power to revoke in one instance or to punish in the ~ther. Nevertheless, since the superior delegated the per-on to take care of the situation, implicitly ~e thereby lso delegated to him all the power necessary to effect that vhich was explicitly delegated. Delegated authority is not to be confused with pre-÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Authority VOLUME 20, 1961 185 + lames I. O'Connor, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 186 sumed authority. In the case of presumed authority, the person making the presumption can not contact the party having the authority. Further, after weighing all the cir-cumstances and what is sincerely believed the superior or official would do if asked, he draws the conclusion that the authority would be granted if the superior or official could be contacted. Such action is very different from the express grant of authority made by the superior or official to a definite 'person or group of persons. What power can be delegated will be taken up under canon 199. Ordinary power is said to be proper when it is possessed and exercised in one's own name. Hence, the authority given by the code or constitutions to the superior general, the provincial, and the local superior is both ordinary and proper. Vicarious power is ordinary because the law, especially the constitutions, provides for the office of vicar and the authority of the vicar is determined and conferred by the law itself. However, vicarious power differs from proper power in that the former is not exercised in one's own name but in the name and according to the mind of the superior whose vicar this party is. As a result, when the superior can not discharge his office, for example, because absent from the community or because confined to his room by sickness, and so forth, the vicar becomes acting su-perior and has most, if not all, of the authority of the su-perior. But this authority must be exercised as the supe-rior himself would exercise it. Consequently, the vicar may not take advantage of his position to change the policies established by the superior, even though the change may be desirable. Likewise, he can not grant a re quest which has been already refused by the superior. Moreover, as soon as the superior is again able to discharge his office himself, the power of the vicar ceases because the function of the office of vicar ceases. Vicarious power and delegated power are alike in that in both cases the power is not proper and so is exercised in the name of another. These powers are unlike in tha! vicarious authority is annexed by and spelled out in the law whereas delegated authority depends totally on the will of the delegator as to what authority is possessed. Th~ two forms of power also have different norms as to when and how they are terminated as will be seen by comparin~ canons 207 and 208 as well as what was said above abou~ the cessation of vicarious power. In the light of these distinctions between delegated, Vi carious, and proper power, it seems worth while notin~ that in orders and congregations having a hierarchica form of government, the local superior in regard to hi own community is not a vicar or a delegate of the pro vincial or general superior. This point is explicitly se down in article 312 of the Normae drawn u~ by th Sacred Congregation for Religious. Some . superiors seem not to be aware of the position legally held by the local,superior. This Is especially, true when, the major su-perior drops in~ on the local community either merely for a stopove;,or for a canonical v, isitation. ThE local superior is and remains the true superior of the lo~al community and still possesses and has the right of exercise of all the authority cgnferred on a local superior byI the code and by the constitutibns; The Norma~ in article 265 e~plicitly state thav a provincial or general superior ,can not at the same time be a 19cal superior. A very immediate~and logi-cal ~onclusion follows from tha~t premise: Itherefore, the major suoerior can not take over the functions of a local superi~r.'O'ne,can not.lawfully discharge tl~e function of an office one'does not and ~n h~t ha~. , The only ~xception to this ge~aeral rule islthat in which the local c~mmunity is composed only of m~mbers of the provincial or general curia. Even ~n such cases, ff the com-mumty ~s large, as it ~s in some orders and congregauons, a special religious ~s appointed to be the local superior of the house since such work would notably interfere with the prlnc~paJ wo.rk 9f the major sqpenor m the admxms-tration of the province or institute. A word of caution o~ught to be injected here. There are some "active'-' communities which seem n_ot ~to be obhged by, the~above norms because their local superiors have on!y thg authority th,e top sup.eripr grants the~m. However, such communities do not have the government olan of the ordinary order or congregation. Theirs is [1~ monastic form of government inowhich there is only lone superior who is the equivalent of the abbot or abbess in a ~trictly monastic con~munity. What look like local-~ommunities are not such, canonically; they are not separate moral or jund~c.al~persons. As a result, the superiors" of such houses, are not true superiors in their own right but are vica~rs qr delegates of the one and only true superior. Their authori~ty, then, is only what th,,e one superiorl gives them. Canon !~9 . This canon sets down the rules governing tlie' delegation of authority. In the first place we are told that everybody who has ordinary dominative power can delegate any part of it or the whole of it to another person unless the law, namely the code or the constitutions, expressly declares otherwise. In the absence of a contrary reqmre, ment ~n the law, the delegator may delegate any person competent [or th e assi"gnment, whether the delegated party be a mem-ber of t e ~nst~tute or not. Hence, a qualified s~uperior can delegate the priest who comes to say the community Mass to receive the vows of one of.the commumty. ,Whale the canon does not put a time limit on the duration of the Religious Authority VOLUME 20~, 19bl 187 James 1. O'Connor, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS delegation, even when all the authority of a sup6rior or official is delegated to another, it is usually p~inted out'by moralists and canonists that such unlimited delegation of all authority is an abdication of one's own resppnsibility. Therefore, delegation of total authority should be granted for a fiXed time only and, ordinarily, for a comparatively short time. ' ~ Delegated power can be used in any legitimate way un-less the manner of use was also defined at the time of dele-gation. When delegation is made, the terms of delegation should be clear to both delegator and delegate so that all doubts and misunderstandings can be avoided. In this first paragraph of canon 199 the solution is of-fered to many problems of superiors. So very often supe-riors, and especially local superiors, complain that the), have no time to be a real superior, to be a mother or father, ~s the case may be, to the members of the community be-cause their time is largely taken up with granting routine permissions, distributing articles, for example, writing supplies, dentifrices, ~ind so forth, so that there is very lit-tle or no time left to help subjects with doubts, questions, and problems. One way of getting that necessary time is to delegate some one or more persons in the community to grant those routine permissions, to distribute articles to the members of the comm~unity, to handle the mail, and so forth. Heretofore some superiors doubted whether they could use such a means as delegation) Whatever grounds for doubt" existed earlier, there is certainly no basis' for such doubts since the 1952 reply of the Code Commission. In as much as the right to delegate is granted by law to all having ordinary power, this power to delegate is itself part of that ordinary power and the superior needs no approval of a higher superior if he chooses to delegate his authority. It may be that a superior in one institute can not delegate to the same extent as a superior in another in-stitute because of a limitation contained in the constitu, tions which is not found in the second set of constitu(ions. Such a limitation, however, has to be found in the law; otherwise there is no restriction except, as previously noted, in the case of delegation of total authority for an indefinite period of time. Occasionally a superior is afraid to delegate authority because he fears the delegated party may use poor judg-ment, abuse authority, and so forth. This simply means that the superior should be as careful as possible in" the selection of the person to be delegated. Sometimes this is the only real way to find out what a given person will do with authority. Secondly, if such faults occur and the dele-~ gate does not amend after advice and correction, since the authority belongs to the superior, just as that authority Could be delegated, so also it can be revoked at any time the delegator judges it should¯ Conseq.u1e tnht dyl, e e e-gator never has to feel that once authority is delegated, it is gone forever from his control. The second situation in which delegation is allowed by general law is that in which~:tileHdly See d~leg'a~t~s an in-fervor, who, ~n turn, may pass on delegation to a third party. Such delegation of delegated power is called sub-delegation. Subdelegation can be granted either for a soli-tary case or for all such cases unless the Holy See's con-ferral of delegauon exphcltly states that the delegate has been chosen because of his personal quahficat~ons or un-less the Holy See exphcltly forbids subdelegauon. To date, there is no general grant of delegation of dom~na-ttve power by the Holy See to all'religious superiors. An examrfle of such a general grant of delegatei:l ]urtsd~ctton ~s the brochure of qumquenmal faculties to local ordi-naries, some of which can not be subdelegatedA Another occasion in which subdelegationlcan be made is found in canon 199, §3. Here the original delegate re-ceives his authority from a person who posse.sses ordinary power 'but who is a. subordinate, of the Holy See. More-over, the delegate must have authority over a whole class of cases or business. In this situation, the del~egate has the authority from the code to subdelegate t~artt or all of his authority to a given individual for all cases! or only one case, or he can subdelegate many persons forI one case. There are or can be a number of instances in which this law can be applied. Perhaps the best exampl~ is that of a hospital administrator or a college or university president, The ultimate responsibility for the hospital br school be-longs to the superior. However, because ofI the load of work involved in functioning as a religious superior,' espe, clally of a large commumty, and also funcuomng as the I administrator of the hospital or the president of the col-lege or university, the work-load is split andlthat part of the superior's authority which pert~ains to thee operation of the hospital or school is delegated to another who serves as admtmstrator or president.5 Th~s ~s delegauon by a person hawng ordinary power but subject to the Roman Pontiff. It is conferred for a whole class of cases or busi-ness, namely, operating the hospital or schooi. If need or usefulness should dictate, the administrator ~r president | t T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J. and James I. O'Conn!r, S.J., Canon Law Digest, v. 4 (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1958), 69-82. I . ~ Such split authority can give rise to many problems. A suggested method for dividing the authority in the case of hospitals can be found in an article by the present author, "The Hosp.~tal ~n Canon Law;" in Hospital Progress, 41 (February, 1960), 361-87. Most of the suggested division of authority can be applied to col!ege and uni-versity presidents by simply substituting "president" for "adminis-trator ¯" I Religious Authority VOLUME 20, 1961 189 ]ames L O'~,o~nor, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 190 has the authority from the code to subdelegate part or all of his authority in~ an individual case. Another example, in a different line, is that in which the local superior is delegated by the superior general or, if competent, by the provincial, to receive the vows of all~ who make profession, temporary or perpetual, in the hduse of that superior: This, again, is delegation for a whole class of cases, namely, the reception of vows. Such a local superior, if impeded from receiving the vows him-self, could subdelegate another, for example, one of the community or the priest celebrating the vow Mass, to re-ceive the vows on this particular occasion. Apart from the two cases provided for in §§2-3 of canon 199, §4 prohibits subdelegation of delegated authority un-less Such delegation is expressly permitted by the original delegator. Subdelegated authority can never be again sub-delegated unless an express grant to that effect was .made when the first subdelegation was given (canon 199, §5). Canon 206 Canon 206 supposes a' situation where, for example, three sisters receive delegation for the same task: Sister Felicitas on January 2; Sister Mary on January 3; and Sis-ter Josephine on. January 5. While all three have delega-tion, which one has the right and obligation to exercise her delegation? Canon 206 replies that the person whose commission was first given has the right and duty; in: our case, that is Sister Felicitas, An exception to this rule is made if a later commission contains a revocation of the earlier grant; for example, if in Sister Josephine's appoint-ment there is also found an explicit revocation of the dele-gation previously extended to Sisters Felicitas and Mary~ Canon 207 ~ Canon 207 lists the ways in which delegated power ceases to exist. Only §1 and §3 are quoted above because §2 can not apply to purely dominative power. Only a brief commentary seems useful here. I) Fulfillment of commission: the delegated authority ceases as soon as the job for which it was given~has been completed. 2) Lapse of time: authority was delegated to December 31, 1960 inclusive. With the end of 1960 the delegated authority also ended. 3) Exhaustion of number of cases: delegation, was ex~ tended to receive vows on five occasions. After the fifth occasion the delegation is lost. 4) Cessation of the reason for delegation: Sister Felicitas is delegated to govern the convent of St. Helen, December 26-31 because the local superior is to be away to attend a series of special conferences. On December 24th word is ~ceived that the director o the con erence has taken eriously sick and the conferences have been ~alled :of[. As result, the superior does not go away Dece.mber 26-31. ince the reason for Sister Felicitas' delegation .has now eased, her delegation also ceaseS. .5) Revocation by the delegator roger er wxth direct no-ice to the delegate; of great imp ortance in~ this stpi ula-ion is the word direct. An example: Brother Hilary has ¯ een delegated by his provincial to negouate the, sale of a ,fece of community property. Before he has time to com- ,lete the transacuon, he hears from a fellow rehg~ous who appened to pass through the prownclal's re.s~dence 'that he provincial said he was writinga letter to Brother Hil-ry revoking his delegauon. The same day l~e hears this ews, Brother Hflary happens to have an appointment to lose the property deal. Does he still have~delegauon to do :~? He does, because he himself has not received dire~t otice from his provincial of the revocation ofldelegation; e merely heard of it from an unofficial sourc.e. If the fel- :~w religious was commissioned by the provincial to in, ~rm Brother Hflary of the revocauon, then Brother s elegat~on would cease as soon as he was informed by h~s eligious confrere. ~6) Rentinciation on the part of the delegate ~together ,ith direct notice to and acceptance by the:del~gator: Two ~ings are to be noticed in this instance: dire~t notice to nd acceptance by the delegator. Direct ha~ the same -~eaning as above regarding revocation. In addition to the irect notice, for instance, Brother Hllary reforms his pro-incial by letter or phone that he is renouncing the dele-auon g~ven him, there must be acceptance by lthe delega- ~r. Brother Hilary does not lose his delegation unless his rovincial accepts.,the renunciation. | . After listing all the ways a given individual@ay lose his elegation, the canon goes on to add a situation in which elegation is not lost, even though, at first glance, it might -em delegation is lost: An illustration will l~elp: Sister enigna, a local superior, has been delegated by her ,other general to receive all vows pronounced in her con-znt. Mother general went out of office Januu~ry 5th be-muse she died that evening. On the morning.+f January ,~h, Sister Benigna received the vows of some s~sters in her ~mmunity. Later that day she learns of mother" general!s eath. Now Sister Benigna wonders if she had ~lelegation ~ recexve the vows that morning. Sxnce no hm~tat~on was ut on her delegation, her authority continued on Janu-y 6th and still continues after that date unless the new ,other general revokes the delegation. The law on this point makes an exception in the two ~ses mentioned in canon 61 which reads: umess ~t should opear otherwise from appended clauses, or unless the re~ I ÷ ÷ ÷ P~ligious Authority ¯ VOLUME 20~ 1961 19l ÷ ÷ ÷ ]ames I. O'Connor, S.J. REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS script confers on some person the power to grant a favo to particular persons named in it and the matter is stil intact." Examples of "appended clauses" are: "As long as I a. superior general"; "As long as I wish." With her remova from the office of superior general, both appended clause cause a cessation of the delegated authority. The "As lon as I wish" can be had only if she is competent to grant th delegation. With removal from office she is no longer co petent to have such a wish effectively; therefore, the del gation ceases. The second exception supposes delegation, for exampl to permit Sisters Gervase and Protase to take a trip t Europe. For one or other reason, the delegate has not ye done anything about granting the permission to :the tw sisters named. Unexpectedly, the delegating superior die Since the matter of the delegation is still intact, that i has not been touched, has not had even a beginning o execution, the delegation ceases. Hence the erstwhile del gate is no longer competent to grant the favor and Sister Gervase and Protase are out of a European trip. Canon 207, §3 considers the case where two or more pe sons have been delegated as a single body to carry ou some commission. Brothers John, James, and Joseph hav all been delegated as a unit to transact some business fo the community. Brother Joseph renounces his delegatio by direct word to the delegator who, in turn, accepts th renunciation, Unless the contrary appears from the orig nal delegation, the delegation of Brothers John and Jame automatically ceases. Canon 208 In canon 208 the code turns to the question of cessatio~ of ordinary power. It repeats the norm already mentionec in canon 183, §2; namely, an ecclesiastical office is not los by the loss of authority in the party who conferred th~ office, Therefore, canon 208 draws the logical conclusio~ that authority attached to an office by the law, that i~ ordinary power, is not lost when the party who conferre, the office loses his own authority. This norm is similar t. that for delegated authority at the end of canon 207, ~§1. In the present instance, the case supposed is that, fc example, of a local superior who was appointed to offic by a competent higher superior. The term o~ the highe superior ends before that of the local superior appointe~ The local superior's power, derived from law through hi office, continues even though the party who put him int the office has now lost his authority. Ordinary power ceases when one loses the office t which such authority was attached. The power is su pended, that is, it is possessed but can not be used, if i! possessor lawfully appeals a decision to a higher superior, unless the nature of the appeal is such that it does not prevent immediate execution of ~the original deCision. Ap-peals in judicial processes usually produce suspension of the decision; otherwise, for example, in purely°fid~ainis, trative decisions, appeal or, more exactly, recourse does not suspend the decision (canon 1889). The norm set down above does not derogate from the provisions of canons 2264 and 2284. The first of these canons stipulates that an act of dominative power is il-licit if placed by an excommunicated person. Further, if the excommunication has been pronounced in either a condemnatory or a declaratory sentence of a judge, the act is also invalid. An exception to that law is contained in canon 2261, §2; but both it as well as canon 2284 can ap-ply only to priests, not to sisters and brothers. Canon 209 The last of the jurisdictional canons made applicable to dominative power is of .extreme importance, even though it is not usually of frequent'application. It solves situations which earlier caused very serious problems. Canon 209 supposes a situation where, in the objective order, a superior certainly lacks dominative power or has it only in a doubtful way, In the latter case, the doubt must be positive and probable, that is, there must be good arguments in favor of possession of the authority but there must also be good arguments against its possession. The source of the doubt may arise from a lack of clarity in the law itself or from the lack of certainty that a given fact or facts exist. An illustration of a doubt of law is found in canon 105, 1° concerning the necessity of having a consultive vote of councilors in order that the superior may act validly. As it stands, the canon says: "It is sufficient for valid action if the superior hears the councilors." It is disputed among canonists whether such a hearing is required for valid action because, contrary to its usual language, the canon does not say required. As a result, since the law itself is doubtful, even if the superior did not consult the council where consultation was prescribed in the general law or in the constitutions, the superior's exercise of dominative power is certainly valid since', in virtue of canon 209, de-fect of authority is supplied by the Church in such an in-stance. A doubt of fact means that with regard toa given event there are arguments for and against its existence. If the fact is required as a condition for possessing dominative power, the Church again supplies the authority needed. To illustrate: On May 15, 1960, Brother Joachim was ap-pointed provincial by competent authority. Some time + + + Religious Authority VOLUME 20, 1961 ~93 + ÷ ÷ James 1. O'Connor, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS later it comes out that at the time of his appointment Brother Joachim seems not to have completed his thirtieth year of age. If that is true, then, without a papal dis-pensation he is not a validly appointed provincial and, furthermore, lacks the dominative power of a provincial. An investigation of the matter shows some documents as well as testimony of relatives and friends indicating he was born August 16, 1929. However, other reliable sources give the year as 1930. Further investigation does nothing to solve the doubt regarding Brother's-birth date. If he was born in 1930, he did not possess one quality required by canon 504 to qualify'as a valid provincial. The doubt in this problem has nothi~g to do with the meaning of the law; it centers on whether or not a given fact occurred in one year or another. Hence, it is a doubt of fact, Since the doubt is both positive and probable, that is, capable of proof both ways, the Church supplies the dominative power brother needed for all his actions. As a result, they are all valid and licit. As for the future, brother should, of course, be reappointed by competent authority since it is not certain that the original appointment was valid. The third instance in which the Church supplies domi-native power is that in which there is no doubt either of law or of fact but because of some externally perceptible circumstance a person is commonly believed to be a valid superior when the real truth is that this person is not, Such a condition of affairs is called common error. From the evidence available and in accord with limited knowledge, the community forms the judgment that Sis-ter Lioba was duly elected superior general on February 11, 1958. She proceeds to exercise all the powers granted such a superior in the code and in the constitutions. One day in the summer of 1960 Sister Sophia, one of the gen-eral councilors, is attending a canon law lecture at the end of which she is very disturbed and consults-the lecturer. The consultation reveals the following facts as certain be-yond all doubt. Sister Lioba pronounced her temporary vows on August 17, 1937; she made her perpetual profes-sion on August 15, 1940. During the annual retreat of 1956 something the retreat master said raised the question whether Sister Lioba had valid perpetual vows. The above sets of dates of her professions, in virtue of canon 572, §2 in conjunctibn with canons 574, §1 and 34, §5 which re-quire a full three yea.rs of temporary vows, from date to date, in order to have a valid perpetual profession, clearly prove she was not validly professed of perpetual vows on August 15, 1940. Consequently, on August 15, 1956, with the full reali~zation of the invalidity of the 1940 profession, she pronounced her perpetual vows. At the general chap-ter on February 11, 1958, she was elected superior general. Because sister certainly had perpetual vows then; because it had been almost twenty-one years since sister pro-nounced her first vows; because the casting and counting 3f the ballots had been canonically performed; and be-cause the presiding local ordinary declared the elections met all the requirements of ciin6n law, all the sister's 6f the zommunity concluded that Sister Lioba was their new su-perior general. Sister Sophia's disturbance of mind was caused by a ;tatement of the lecturer that, among other qualifications, a :religious, in order to be a valid superior general, must have been validly professed a minimum of ten years, in-cluding the time of temporary vows (canon 504). Mother Lioba, although in the community since 1935, as of Feb-ruary 11, 1958 had valid vows for only just under four and a half years (August 17, 1937-August 17, 1940; August 15, 1956-February 11, 1958). Therefore, Mother Lioba is not really the superior general. Ignorance of the law on this point, even though it excused from all sin because nobody knew any better, does not prevent the canonical effect of the non-observance of the law, for the reason that canon 504 does not provide for ignorance as excusing from the effects of canon law (canon 16, §1). That is all bad enough. However, since a validly chosen superior is required for valid admission of candidates to the novitiate, to tempo-rary and per.petual' professions, to negotiate contracts of sale or loan, to appoint provincials and local superiors, and so forth, what about the validity of all those admis-fions, contracts, appointments, as well as all other actions whose validity depended on a validly chosen superior? Prior to the 1952 reply, cases like this with their chain reaction of multiple invalidities were something of a night-mare to canonists who in various ways sought to find a legal remedy to prevent' such awful consequences. The ;urest way to take care of such cases was to request from the Holy See what is called a radical sanation (sanatio in radice). Now in virtue of the 1952 reply, in such circum-stances, namely, where common error is had, the Church mpplies the dominative power necessary for the acts ~laced by such a "superior." Consequently, as regards the ictions of Mother Lioba, all those requiring dominative 3ower in order that they be valid, are all valid by supplied iuthority. As in the case of Brother Joachim, so also in :hat of Mother Lioba the status as superior should be vali- ]ated if possible. In the present instance the easiest way ~zould be to petition the Holy See for a radical sanation. These considerations should make for a better under- .tanding and appreciation of religious authority or dotal: ~ative power and especially of the application of certain urisdictional canons to that authority. + 4- + Religious Authority VOLUME 20~ 1961 195 FRANCIS N. KORTH, S.J. Total Dedicatio in the Worl ÷ ÷ ÷ Francis N. Korth, S.J., is professor o[ canon law at St. Mary's Col-lege, St. Marys, Kansas. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]96 The apostolic constitution, Provida Mater Ecclesia, o February 2, 1947, focused attention upon a new, otficiall~ approved type of totally dedicated life in the world namely, the life in secular institutes. Members of these institutes bind themselves to the practice of evangelica poverty, chastity, and obedience according to their con stitutions for the purposes of personal sanctification and of apostolic work. Secular institutes are the third corn ponent of the juridical state of perfection-to-be-acquired as that state exists at present in the Church; the othei two components are the various kinds of religious insti tutes and of societies of common life. Outside the juridical state of perfection-to-be-acquired, there exist other groups many of them in a stage of development or growth, whose members dedicate themselves totally to an apostolic life and personal sanctification. Religious institutes and societies of common life (ex amples of these latter are the Paulist Fathers, the Mary knoll Missionary Fathers, the Vincentian Fathers) are well established and known in this country. Not so seculaI institutes, since they are a more recent development. Secular Institutes in the United States In an effort to help the growth of this new form ol specially.dedicated life in this country, as well as to make these groups and other similar groups better known and understood, a small number of interestedpersons:met in the summer of 1949 to talk things over. A year later in July, 1950, the first general meeting of such groups with some seventy participants, was held in Washington D.G. From this developed an unofficial national cente, (operating with the knowledge.and approval of ecclesiasti. cal superiors) for the purpose of coordinating activity and~ of collecting and disseminating information. Until 1957 this center was located and serviced at Notre Dame Uni cersity under the able and generous leadership of Father Ioseph Haley, C.S.C. Two other persons who have played mportant roles from the beginning are Father Patrick ~lancy, O.P. and Father Stephen Hartdegen, O.F.M. In lanuary, 1952, a restricted' gathering (seventy-five 'per- .ons attended, however) met at Notre Dame University. Fhe proceedings of both the 1950 Washington meeting ~nd this 1952 meeting at Notre Dame were compiled. In August of that same year, 1952, the first National ,~ongress of Religious in the United States' was held at Notre Dame University; during this Congress two papers were given on secular institutes. About the same time ~ome published materials about secular institutes ap-peared, and some talks were given to various groups about the same subject. In February, 1954, a meeting 3f twenty-six interested priests took place in Chicago. Meanwhile, an informational bulletin was being issued from time to time by the national coordinating center. The interests of the coordinating center had now been extended to include, besides secular institutes, other groups devoted to a life of total dedication in the world. The bulletin received the expanded title of Bulletin on the Dedicated Life in the World and Secular Institutes. In 1955 a workshop for dedicated persons in the world was conducted at Chicago. That same year regional meet-ings were held in San Francisco and New Orleans, fol-lowed by one in Chicago the next year and one in Boston in 1957. The national center's bulletin was now appear-ing under the name of Bulletin of the Life of Total Dedication in the World. In 1957 there was published a ;ymposium, Apostolic Sanctity in the World, edited by Father Haley, C.S.C.; in August of the Same year a ,aational meeting of representatives of the four regional areas was held at Notre Dame University. The Sacred Congregation for Religious had been ac-quainted with these different activities and meetings. ~'or purposes of unifying the activity and of guiding the zfforts of all concerned along proper lines and in con- ~ormity with the Holy See's directives in this matter, the 3acred Congregation urged that all these related activities ,~e now placed under the direction and guidance of the .~onference of Major Superiors of Men's Institutes in :he United States. Father Joseph Haley, c.s.c, had been in charge of zoordinating efforts until 1957, at which date the national ,nformation and coordinating center was shifted to Wash- .ngton, D.C. with Father Stempen Hartdegen, O.F.M. of Holy Name College in that city as the national director tnd president of the newly proposed (but not yet fully tpproved) Conference of the Life of Total Dedication n the World. The plan for this Conference had to be 4- 4. Total Dedication VOLUME 20, 1961 19'/ Francis N. Korth, S.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 198 submitted to the Conference of Major Superiors for approval. This approval was obtained (September 29 1959) and 'preparations were then begun for the firs triennial general meeting of the new Conference (here after referred to as the C.L.T.D.W.), Though ~his meeting was projected .for St. Louis in November, 1960, an un foreseen delay caused it to .be held in Washington, D.in January of the following year. The Washington Meeting This first triennial general meeting represented an edu cational effort to make the life of total dedication in world, especially in secular institutes, better known and understood by clergy and laity alike. The program was signed to appeal both to those whose interest in this wa) of life was just beginning and to those whose interest wa~, of long standing. The opening session of the meeting, convened in auditorium of McMahon Hall at The Catholic University on Saturday, January 28, 1961. Chairman of this session was the president of the C.L.T.D.W., Father Hartdegen. O.F.M. More than one hundred and fifty persons (laymen and laywomen, a number of priests, and several brothers and sisters) had registered for the meeting; a fairly large number of visitors, including some clerical students, individual sessions. The first formal paper of the meeting was a review the activities' during the past eleven years in the United States leading up to and culminating in the formation and. official approval of the C.L.T.D.W. This talk, .en-titled "The Conference of the Life of Total Dedication in the World--A Decade of Growth, 1950-1960/' has fur-nished the facts given in the opening part of the present article. Next on the program was a paper with the title, "An Active Lay Apostolate: Condition of Growth of Secular Institutes in the United States." The paper emphasized that an active apostolate and a deep interior life are the conditions for the growth of secular institutes in this coun-try. Secular institutes, the paper continued, are peculiarly suited to the needs of the times; because they are different in their extrinsic elements, they can fulfill the contem-porary apostolate's need of easier access to atheists and sinners; the institutes, accordingly, answer the universal need for an organized secular apostolate and for a deepl interior life. The paper then went on to give a historical and statistical survey of secular institutes, the main point~! of which are summarized below. In 1938.representatives of twenty-five societies or group~" of total dedication in the world came from various part,~ o[ the world to a meeting in Switzerland. Events such these gradually led up to the official, juridical recognition of secular institutes by the Church in 1947. In the United States at the present time there are repre-sentatives of twenty-five known groups of persons spe-cially dedicated to the apostdlat~ in the world;~ fli~se are either secular institutes or other groups which might de-velop into secular institutes. (No figures are available for Canada.) Of these twenty-five groups, twelve are secular institutes (eight are pontifical and four diocesan), seven are canonically approved pious associations, and six are not yet canonically established, but are existing with the approval of the bishop. The eight pontifical secular institutes are divided into six with final approval (Company of .St, Paul, Daughters of the Most Holy and Immaculate Heart of Mary, Mis-sionaries of the Kingship of Christ [women's branch], Opus Dei, Society of the Heart of Jesus, and Teresian In-stitute) and two not yet fully approved but having the de-cree of praise (Caritas Christi Union and the Society of Our Lady of the Way). The four diocesan secular insti-tutes are: Missionary Priests of the Kingship of Christ, Regnum Christi, Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary of the Catho-lic Apostolate, and the Secular Institute of St. Plus X. The seven canonically approved pious associations are.' Caritas; Domus Dominae and Domus Domini (Madonna House); Jesus-Caritas, Fraternity of Fr. de Foucauld; Ob-late Missionaries of the Immaculate; Oblates of St. Joseph; Pax Christi; and Rural Parish Workers of Christ the King. The six groups not yet canonically established are: Daughters of Our Lady of Fatima, Ecclesian Institute of Christian Life, Institute of Blessed Martin de Porres Work-ers, Institute of the Mystical Ghrist, Institute of the Word, and Pro Deo Workers. Not falling into the above categories of specially dedi-cated persons in secular institutes or in groups that might develop into such, but still worthy of mention here under a special listing because of total dedication or noteworthy apostolic work being done by their members are the fol-lowing four groups: International Catholic Auxiliaries; La Paix (Lafayette Associated Professional Apostolate of Individual Christians ); Lay Workers of the Sacred Heart; and the Society of the Daughters of St. Francis de Sales. [Some information about the above-mentioned secular institutes and other groups is available in a pamphlet en-titled Chan:~els, published by the national information center whose address is: C.L.T.D.W., Brookland P.O. Box 4522, Washington 17, D.C. The price of the pamphlet is twenty-five cents.] The above groups exist in. nearly thirty of the states, though the overall representation is small. While it is true that the secular institute movement has developed Total Dedfi:atlon VOLUME 2°0, 1961 199 4. Francis N. Korth, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 200 fairly rapidly, still ther~ is reason for concern about the slowness of growth in the United States. The principal cause of this is perhaps the lack of realization on the part of many of what the modern apostolate means and re-quires; namely, the Christianization of modern society. Life in Secular Institutes Following the two main talks of the morning, the audi-ence was then divided into fourteen smaller work groups. Each group had a leader and a secretary; items presented in the preceding talks were discussed more fully by each group; and prepared questions to aid discussion were dis-tributed. Any conclusions were noted by the secretaries; summaries of these conclusions were presented at the final general session on the last day. The first afternoon speaker treated the topic of "Secular-ity in the States of Perfection of Secular Institutes." He made the point that the secularity of these new institutes does not imply secularism but rather a stable way of totally dedicated life in the world. The member of a secular in-stitute has the obligation of the three evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience and is always subject to the will of God expressed by the constituti6ns and by superiors. Some difficulties encountered are loneliness, being misunderstood, and a lack of some of the things of the world while living and moving in it. The lack of com-munity life and of a common garb is hard for outsiders to understand. In addition, the member of a secular in-stitute is on his own to do the required thing: perhaps to give up a movie or a television program in order to be faithful to spiritual exercises, to do without new clothing because of the poverty professed, to stay away from an office party. There are no bells to direct one's day, no assistance from the example of others, as is had in com-munity life. Mentality, personality, and strength above average are needed to lead this life. A person must be an active, militant apostle, for part of a vocation to a life in secular institutes is to be the leaven in the masses. The second part of this first afternoon was devoted to a panel on "The Evangelical Counsels," the panelists being two priests and three lay persons. The first panelist pre-sented the canonical aspects of this topic, commenting on the nature of the vows or promises and their resultant ob-ligation or bond and on the fact that one binds himself according to his paiticular constitutions, that a member of a secular institute is not a religious, and that such a call-' ing is a special vocation which at times may require rather high intellectual qualifications. Prudence and good judgment are essential in any prospective candidate and, of course, a good moral life. Some inner impulse or desire is found, but not necessarily a liking; in other words, there should be some general appeal and an investigation of that appeal, The second panelist considered the moral aspects of a life of poverty, chastity, and obedience. His remarks may be summed up in the followifi~ ~iy. Poverty~ tile ~dical ownership remains, while the useful ownership is re-stricted according to the constitutions. A very strict ac-count of income and expenditures is required, the account being rendered to the superior usually at the time of the annual retreat.Combined with generosity to the poor, frugality is practiced. Ckastily: all sins against' chastity must be avoided and, moreover, ~easonable means must be taken to preserve the full beauty of this virtue. Members in the strict sense of secular institutes are forbidden to marry. Obedience: superiors are to be obeyed within the limits of the rule and constitutions. A formal command would be given in writing or before two witnesses and with the use of a special formula; this power is not to be used beyond what is found in the rule or statutes or constitu-tions. ',The practical "aspects of living poverty, chastity, and obedience in a secular institute were briefly treated by the three remaining panelists, each of whom considered one of the three evangelical counsels. The first speaker discussed the practical living of poverty, At times, he noted, it is difficult to determine the detailed application of poverty, particularly in the case of persons engaged in individual work or careers~ One should live in the spirit of poverty and pray to understand what: living in that spirit means. In everyday living two methods of practicing poverty are followed: 1) the individual keeps his own budget and sup-plies his own needs, getting the necessary permissions from his superiors; 2) income obtained from work is pooled and the needs of individuals are supplied by Superio[s. from the common fund. At times there might also be some com-bination of both these methods. Practical ~tuestions, de-termined or settled by the Constitutions or the rule of life of each institute, inclUde the following: whether or not to keep a budget, how much may be spent without special permission, how much to give to charity on one's own ini-tiative, how much.to give to the institute. A definite record of revenues and expenses must be~ kept and reported to superiors at stated times, Permission is required to spend any amount; a general permission might cover expendi-tures for medicine, toilet articleS, and so forth; for cloth-ing, by way of example, specific or special permission might be required. The alignment of permissions varies with the occupations of the members. In emergencies one may act and later report the matter. A booby trap in 'prac-ticing poverty could be the accepting of gifts from relatives or friends (though in some groups it is permissible tO ao ÷ ÷ ÷ Total Dedication VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Francis N. Korth, $.1. REVtEW FOR R~t.tGIOUS 202 cept gifts even of money) or working extra hours to earn more money when the time should be given to the apos-tolate. A monthly financial report might be required. The rule of life of a particular group will flesh out its constitu-tions on these and similar points. It is important to note that the practical living or regulation of poverty varies considerably with different institutes. Though there is a great variety concerning poverty in the const.itutions, some restriction is essential for all. The speaker on the practical living of obedience noted that obedience presupposes a mature mentality which sees that it is from Calvary that. the meaning of obedience be-comes clear. Obedience gives one an assurance of fulfilling God's will and it frees from pride. Just as other things connected with secular institutes have secular character-istics, so too does this obedience. The member of a secular institute is neither alone nor completely dependent: There are no .schedules or other helps as in religious institutes. Secular institute obedience must be active; often the su-perior gives only general directives. For example, the hour of rising in the morning and the hour of retiring at night are indicated; but if some friend or guest is in the house, the member could probably bypass that directive for the sake of charity. The last of ~he five panelists discussed the practical living of chastity. This means no marriage and no sin against chastity; for God, marriage is renounced and per-fect chastity is undertaken. In regard to dances and shows, the me .mber of a secular institute does not make a habit of these diversions but "attendance is permissible if charity or the apostolate requires it, One must be selective in tele~ vision programs; similarly, books and movies, if there is time for them, must be chosen wisely. Women members should wear clothing that is modest and suitable for their apostblate. Jewelry should not be expensive; it should be used as part6f the costume and not for show. As a motive for faithfulness in preserving chastity, a deep love of Christ should be cultivated. A strong devotion to the Blessed Mother will also help, as.also will fidelity to the rule, which was given precisely to be of assistance in this matter. Formation of M'embers of Secular Institutes The evening session feat ~ured another panel whose topic was "Formation for the Life. of Total Dedication in the World." This time, there w~ere four panelists, two priests and two lay persons. The first panelist spoke about spirit~ ual instruction and remarked that the purpose of a pro-gram of spiritual instruction is to give glory to God, to further the work of the Church, and to form apostolic secu-lar ambassadors of God.: For this latter purpose, apostolic virtues, especially as detailed in the particular constitu- tions, are necessary. In general there is need of zeal for souls, prudence, fortitude, and the gifts of the Holy Spirit. In any consideration of method in spiritual instruction, it is important to remember that the spiritual life must be allowed to grow by degrees. 'It ~as,suggested by the~speaker that in the period of formation fundamentals be stressed; a knowledge of secular institutes in general and of the con-stitutions of a particular group must be imparted along with the spirit of that particular group. In the period of temporary incorporatibn, the above areas should be devel-oped more fully, the .person should be acquainted with the apostolate of the institute, and forbearance of the faults of others should be inculcated.In the period of final or definitive incorporation there is need for continued spiritual instruction, for growing simplicity in one's spirit-ual life with no overemphasis on either the active or prayer aspect of secular institute life. Spiritual guidance was discussed by the next speaker. The spiritual director of a secular institute, he said, must realize that he is working with specially dedicated souls. He must teach them the principles of the spiritual, life with emphasis on prayer and mortification. He must also teach them to think with the Church, to have zeal, tO lead a life of self-denial in order to live with Christ. For purposes of guidance, the panelist suggested the following three "p's" as useful: 1) a philosophy of life (= the faith); 2) a pro-gram (for which consult the constitutions, customs, and heritage of the particular group); and 3) "passion" (= en-thusiasm for living total dedication). The means at a di-rector's disposal are conferences, lectures, discussions, di-rected spiritual reading, and especially a mirroring of all he teaches. The two lay participants on this panel discussed "Teach-ing and Living the Rule and Constitutions in Secular Life." For teaching the rule and constitutions, the third panelist stressed the need of starting with humility, since one is to serve when one governs or teaches. Compassion, zeal, pity, and patience are necessary to teach or train young people. The teacher must teach by living and must himself be immersed in prayer. In actually teaching, the person to be instructed must be studied and the amount of training or instruction to be given here and now must be duly measured. If the person should at present be con-fused or somewhat emotionally disturbed, teaching of mental hygiene is indicated. The vocabulary of instruc-tion should be adapted to the capacity of the hearer. The questions that will be asked of a teacher of the way of life in a totally dedicated group will always tend to be the same; hence the teacher must learn to be patient with the questioners. The final speaker of the panel gave some thoughts on ÷ ÷ ÷ Total Dedication VOLUME 20, 1961 203 ÷ ÷ ÷ Francis N. Korth, S.$. REVIEW I:OR RELIGIOUS 204 living the rule and constitutions. To this end the personal touch and a greater initiative in the following of Christ are needed, especially for groups that do not have training of members in common. Perfection is to be sought from the rule which must be taught gradually without any great upheaval or change in the candidate's life. It must be stressed, however, that the life the candidate is contem-plating is a life of total dedication. He should be taught that in day-by-day living decisions must be made by the individual, but later he should check his decision with the superior's judgment. In the realm of poverty, one should have as if he had not; hence there should be a spirit of being ready to turn.over all one's money to the in-stitute. In order to live the rule and constitutions there must be a constant, conscientious, mature completeness in giving. On Sunday, January 29, the second day of the meeting, a low Mass was celebrated in the crypt chapel of the Na-tional Shrine of the Immaculate Conception. The sermon at the Mass was entitled "The Catholic University and Secular Institutes." The hope was expressed that at some later date a planned series of general courses might be given at The Catholic University on basic knowledge about secular institutes and on training and spiritual in-struction fundamental for life in any groups devoted to total dedication. The Apostolate The general sessions were again held in the auditorium of McMahon Hall. The opening morning session pre-sented a panel of lay participants on the overall subject of "The Apostolate." Five speakers successively discussed lay missions (two speakers), social work, nursing, and teaching. The first speaker on lay missions gave some background information on the general idea of missionary work in the Church. The particular role of the lay apostle in mission areas, he said, is to develop an atmosphere of Christianity through the practice of Christian principles. To achieve this purpose, the natives must be educated in Christian principles, perhaps initially through the ministrations of those in some profession such as nursing. To prepare mod-ern young people for such lay missionary work on a life-time basis, spiritual preparation must first of all be stressed. Next, the prospective missionaries are to under. stand that there must be no forcing of American attitudes about government and life on the natives. The basic atti-tude of the missionary should be humility; he must be sympathetic to the customs and culture of the people among whom he is working. To this end a study should be made of the culture, philosophy, and literature of the par-ticular missionary country. The second speaker on lay missionary work pointed out that opportunities for laymen to spend their lives as per-manent missionaries are found in ~ay mission societies. A lay missionary should be imbued with the missiona~ry mys-tique: to give. He is "going~oht'' to help other p0~ential members of the Mystical Body. Emotional balance is neces-sary for a lay missionary. He should be able to accommo-date himself to the culture of. the country in which he works. "Missionary poverty" means giving up one's former way of living and even of thinking. Joy will be found in a sense of fulfillment, in the hope enkindled in men's eyes, in the happiness of the children one meets, and in the friendship of the natives. Hardships will include discour-agement, lack of assimilation by the natives, rigors of cli-mate, and the like. Teams of missionaries, as opposed to free lances, supply mental uplift, coordination of activity, spiritual assistance, and so forth. The third panelist spoke on the apostolate of social work, an apostolate that implies service and sacrifice. So-cial work implies climbing into the stream of human events and adversities to serve a fellow human being who is suffering. This demands a spirit of self-sacrifice and the conviction that no human being is trifling or insignificant. The fourth panelist discussed nursing as an apostolate. Nursing, it was said, is an art and science that deals with the patient in his entire environment. The nurse must be a mature person with a ministry of mercy based on the love of God. The nurse is to see Christ in the patients, for there is a need of "a restoration of nursing in Christ" to counter-act a secularistic and materialistic attitude. The average nurse today seems self-centered instead of Christ-centered. The nurse should try to help patients spiritually and should teach the Gospel message by action; thus, for ex-ample, the nurse should be ready "to go the other mile" whenever the opportunity arises. A nurse truly dedicated to Christ shares His sufferings and also His joys. The fifth panelist on the apostolate considered the area of teaching, pointing out that educational statistics in the United States show that many Catholic students on all levels of training are not in Catholic schools. Some sug-gestions have appeared in various publications to meet the situation; for example, to close the first four or five grades in parochial schools, to have fewer but more excellent Catholic schools, or to sacrifice tremendously to retain the entire system. Whatever be the solution to the prob-lem, it will always remain true that Catholic teachers must endeavor to be at least as professionally competent as non-Catholic teachers. The speaker suggested that a specialized apostolic group of lay teachers is needed in this country. Moreover, the influence and activity of the Cath-÷ ÷ ÷ Total Dedication VOLUME 201 I961 £05 Francis N. Eor~h, $.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 206 olic teacher could well be extended into the area of adult education. After the close of the Sunday morning session, a formal group luncheon was held, at which the Very Reverend Celsus Wheeler, O.F.M. of the Conference of Major Su: periors of Men's Institutes in the United States gave a word of encouragement to the work done at the meeting. He told those in attendance that secular institutes and other groups requiring a life of total dedication in the world are in a splendid position to establiSh contact with people for apostolic purposes in places and circumstances where priests and religious often could not make contact. The second speaker at the luncheon was a physician, a member of a professional men's sodality, who spoke on the topic,. "Dedication to t~he Lay Apostolate through the Professions." In his speech he stressed that though the lay apostolate can achieve a vfist amount of good, still consid-ering the number of Catholics in the United States, there is not the'desired impact or influence which might be ex-pected. Many young people today have no concept of how their future work as professional men might be utilized for the apostolate. One must learn to think with the Church and to carry that thinking into one's professional life. A deep interior life must be developed so that this can spill over into apostolic work. As an example of what one group of professional men is doing for the apostolate, a detailed description was given by the speaker of the sodality to which he helorigs, of its course of training, and of some of its apostolic activities; his presentation was both impressive and inspiring, A business meeeting was held in the auditoriu

Issue 12.4 of the Review for Religious, 1953. ; The Spiril: ot: SI:, Clare and I-ler Order Sister M. Immaculata, P.C: CEVEN centuries'ago, on August 11, 1253, the shadows of death ~ were lengthening around a group of sorrowing nuns whose ~ foundress and Mother lay dying. In ecstatic joy, she clasped to her heart a roll of parchment sealed with the Fisherman's seal. Clare Sceffi, a. noble lady of Assisi, had fled from her castle home when she was eighteen to follow Francis Bernardone. Francis had dreamed of adventure for. Christ, and no one had caught~ the flame of love that burned in his heart more ardently than Clare. Fran~is's course had now been run a full quarter of a century, and he was already b.eing venerated as the great saint whose popularity would grow even to our own day. pope Innocent IV had ascended the throne of Peter but the year before. His keen vision scanned the lower!rig storm clouds over a Europe ever beset by the Moslem threat. Could he but make the rulers of the Christian countries bestir themselves out of their com-fortable and only too often lustful letha/gy, to heed his call "God wills it !" With the burdens of ~his exalted, office heavy upon him, he, the Vicar of Christ thought of one little virgin, hidden behind cloister walls in Assisi. He knew Clare, heard she was dying; and he remem-bered the intrepid courage with which she had pleaded with him and some of his predecessors for approval Of her Rule, and of the Seraphic poverty to which she and her Daughters aspired. Innocent, like several Pontiffs before him, had,hesitated to approve a rule of life requiring such poverty as Saint Francis had bequea.thed to Saint Clare and her Daughters. Men, they thought, might oblige themselves to observe it,-but what of cloistered nuns? What would become of a community thus deprived of all revenue and financial security? Innocent was thinking of Clare, thinking of how she lay dying, her one wish and desire unfulfilled. He did not send her a message of comfort and his blessing. Under the inspiration, no doubt of~ the Holy Spirit, he grasped his pen, signed the Bull of approval con-taining her Rule; and then, with his retinue, turned his face toward Assisi. There at San Damiano he entered tl~e lowly cell of Clare and placed in her hands the approval for which she had prayed and 169 SISTER M. IMMACULATA Re~evo :or Religious ~)leaded and suffered for over f.orty years. We can imagine" the astonishment of Clare and her Sisters when the Holy Father himself stood at the convent portals. How she must have pre,ssed that docu-ment to her heart and sung her last hymn of love to Christ her Spouse. Clare had imbibed th.e spirit of Francis at its source, .cher-ishing it firmly and wholly, and bequeathing it to her Daughters as they knelt at her death bed. And they have cherished, loved, and guarded it. They have preserved it unchanged since 1253. Through 700 years the Rule of Saint Clar~ has often been buffeted by storms, and has been wounded at times by the infidelity of her children, but it has always emerged in its first freshness and .strength. It still lives in 1953, and today there.are 19 houses of Poor Clares in the United Stat~s. Our modern age has not been able to undermine the observance of the Rule nor destroy its spirit. The order has grown silently, spreading its branches in neaily every country of the world. No nationality but has found the Rule and its spirit congenial, so that the daughters of Saint Clare scattered throughout the countries of the world have always been able to adapt themselves to her Rule, which .has proved .independent of time or place. Today our American girls still observe the Rule Innocent IV placed in the hands 0f the dying foundress. " What is the spirit, contained in the Rule of Saint Clare? As. in ¯ her own time, her Daughters live a contemplative life in strict en-closure. The spirit, one of poverty, love of prayer leading to closest union with God, is joyous, and their personal sanctification is as much for the efficacious gaining of gra~e for"soul~ as for the strength-ening of the bond of love in the order. It is a life of joyful giving, closing the doors to what the world calls pleasure by the vow of en-closure, thus finding the treasure which is worth more than all pos-sessions. Though it embraces the deprivation of "the things the world de-sires and cherishes, this seclusion with its penance does not entail a sad, bleak; and joyless existence. It is not the thing~ that are barred from the cloister which bring peace and joy to the soul, but those that are found within, of which the world knows nothing. There is song in the heart of the cloistered nun. for she is not burdened with the superfluous gadgets and noises which fill so many hours of our com-plex modern life. Saint Francis has been coi~sidered a model of penance and self-abnegation, but was ever saint more joyous? Hadever a saint a heart 170 ,July, 1953 SPIRIT OF ST. CLARE more full of music? His seemed to be an overflowing fountain of happiness, and he communicated it to those around him. In this, as in all else, Saint Clare was his faithful follower. Penance for her was not practiced for penance's sake. It was an outlet for the love burning in her heart ,and reaching out for more adequate fuel to feed its flame. This joyous spirit still pervades the cloisters where the Daughters of Saint Clare follow in her footsteps and observe her Rule. Their hearts are the cups that still hold the happiness of which the world has now so little, because their lives are still spent in genuine love and wholehearted giving. The worlff today is filled with sorrow and suffering,, and count: less hearts.are bearing a burden they could well consider supreme penance, did they but think of accepting all in a spirit of penance. The heart's most loving, if inarticulate, acceptance of penance is the willing b~aring of the unwelcome burdens so often placed on it by God. To be silent and lovingly resigned is always, to practice pen-ance in a very perfect form. The Daughters of Saint Clare vowing a Rule which imposes manypenances are but reaching out for greater love, ~vhich is warded With greater joy in God's service. Penance is not ugly, harsh, and fearsome. The bell which call~ one to ri~e from welcome sleep to seek the light of the sanctuary in the dead of night may sound un-welcome to a tired body: but is theie anything rfiore beautifuf_than the religious wending their silent 'way to the choir to make their first act of adoration before their Lord in the taberf.acle when the day has just begun? Standing in their stalls, they offer the praise of virgins before the face of~God, a prayer with the Son of God, ",bhile the world sleeps or sins. Does anyone know the joy in the hearts of those who give Him this homage? So it is with all the penances.prac7 ticed by the Daughters 6f Saint Clare. Penance for penance's sake is repugnant, meaningless, and very often food- for pride and phari-saism, so entirely alien to the spirit of Saint Clare. Penance for "love's sake is sweet. If there are still hearts in the world today which know unalloyed joy, they are undoubtedly those whose lives are being poured out in the most unselfish and wholehearted giving. Their joy is most full because their lives are most full of giving. The transition from the life of our modern girl to a postu!a~nt the cloister is not so drastic as some would suppose. Young, eager, lighthearted, with a soul attuned to God's grace, she assumes by slow degrees the duties and customs to which she adapts herself. She learns 171 SISTER M. IMMACULATA Review for Religious to love the hours of prayer, the Divine Office, the silence and regu-larity, The joyous acceptance of the sacrifices imposed by the Rule creatds a deep happiness and peace, which is found" especially in the hours of prayer. Prayer is not a ready-made gift in anyone. It en-tails mortification, is often itself mortification, but a mortification that decreases as the spirit of prayer and union with God increases There are no secrets of rapid progress over the rough path that leads to union with God, except the secret of persistent self-abnegation and striving for that wlsich obliterates self, and builds up in us the Christlikeness which alone makes us one with Him. But God does not lure us into the wilderness of. the contemplative life to forsake us and l'eave us to our own helplessness. True, we seem to take a leap in the dark When we embrace the contemplative life, but our Lover is not a human being whom we fear to trust. Like Clare who left her castle home in the dead of night, her Daughters follow where their Divine Spouse leads, and the path. is ever to union with God and the embrace of the Holy Spirit. While the enclosed life of contemplation should not be glamor-ized, neither should it be made a fearful existence df joyless sacrifice and penance. Too often is either mistake made. Those who look for a thrill rush to embrace what they do not understand, looking for something occult, dxpecting tangible thrills of gra.ce or ecstatic prayer before they have hid anything like the foundations of the spiritual life. On the other hand, ferszent though timid souls are often over-come by fear of what may be expected of them once they step behind the cloister walls. Neither is the correct attitude. Those to whom God gives a vocation to the contemplative life, have, nearly always, a natural yearning for God. They want Him, are looking for means of. union with~Him, "have a certain joy in prayer, and, with the light affd guidance of the Holy" Spirit, find pehce of soul in the difficult stretchds of the way as well as happiness in His tornforts. Union with God is a growing state, and though it often advances in dark-ness there are times when it comes into the light, and a light that does not fade entirely even when the way is again through dryness. There is too much emphasis put on the trials, sufferings, and dark-ness of the interior life and not enough on the joy in God and peace Of soul found therein. It has been said that Saint Clare, had she lived in our day, would have founded a missionary order. No Daughter of hers would ever consent to this opinion. Clare knew without a doubt to what she 172 dulg, 1953 SPIRIT OF ST. CLARE was called and she never wavered. She did not simply follow a pat-tern of her time. Indeed, we know that a number of:Benedictine houses, especially the large one at Florence, took the Rule of Saint Clare. It was Agnes, her sister, who was sent there to be the abbess under the new Rule. Francis knew Clare was a contemplative, as he was himself, and the hearts of both were so much the missionary's that no field of labor would ever satisfy' their zeal. Nothing less than the entire world would be Clare's mission field, as it was that of Francis and his Order. Italy and Assisi were no closer to her than the farthest-flung mission. No contempla.tive is one indeed if she has not' the heart of a missionary. Francis's was the call to go out and preach,. Clare's the outstretched arms of a Moses on the mount of contemplation. Clare would give to Christ, her Spouse, not only herself, but all the world. She'knew the fields were white for the harvest and she would obey the words of Christ and pray that the Master send laborers into it. He did not bid her go out and gather it in, bu~ strengthen the arms of the workers. She knew the limita-tions of her own weakness, but prayer and sacrifice, united with the prayer of Christ in the Divine Office, in in~erior love and union, were and are the all-powerful weapons which can reach the opposite ends of the earth at one and the same time. It was the spirit of Clare. as it was the spirit of Francis, to be daring enough to wish to support the Church, on her own weak shoulders, knowing that the Hands and Heart of her Divine Spouse were supporting her. The Spirit of Saint Clare, the foundress of the "Poor Clares, is still living and burning brightly after seven centuries. It calls to the heart cJf the modern girl of our cities as it did t6 those of the middle ages. The life she and Francis instituted for her Daughters is not outmoded in the 20th century, but instead is as living, warm, and joyous in the hearts of the novices of ~oday as in the days of Saint Clare in the little monastery of San Dami~no in 1253. ST. CLARE PLAY BY A POOR CLARE Candle in Umbria is the story of Saint Clare of /~ssisi told in a verse play by a Poor Clare Nun. The play of four acts, eight scenes is suitable for production by college :students or by high schools with special direction. The play was written to honor the foundress of the Poor Clares on the seventh centenary (1953) of her death. The authi~r is a regular contributor to Spirit magazine. ~$1.00 per copy, including the music for the "Canticle of the Sun" which is embodied in the play. Those interested in obtaining a copy of this productior~ should write to: Poor Clare Monastery, Route 1, Box 285 C, Roswell, New Mexico. 173 News and Views Yocational Institute at Fordl~am The Third Annual Institute on Religious and Sacerdotal Voca-tions will be held by. the School of Education, Fordham University, Wednesday, July 29, and Thursday, July 30, on the Fordham. campus. Ways of encouraging, fostering, and guiding vocations~.to the diocesan priesthood an/d to the religious life will be~ discussed by outstanding experts. For further information write to Rev. John F. Gilson,.S.J.,' Fordham Univ. Sch6ol of Education, 302 Broad-way, New York 7, N.Y. ,~ Institute of Spirituality At the National Congress of Religious, held last summer at the .University of Notre Dame, it ,was suggested that the University offer summer school courses in spiritual theology and an institute of spir-ituality each year for the Sisterhoods. This suggestion was favorably received by the representati(,es of the Sacred Congrdgation of Reli-gious and by th.e religious superiors who attended the congress. To carry the suggestion into effe~0 the Notre Dame Department of Religion is inaugurating this summer a program of courses in spir-itual- theology as part of its graduate work in view of a Master's De-gree in Religion. Moreover, since many superiors and mistresses of novices are unable to be present for the summer school, courses, the University is offering a distinct. Institute of Spirituality for them. This is also sponsored by the Department of Religion. The Institute is not a part of the academic program and offers no credits towards a degree. All the lectures and discussions are specially arranged for Sisters superior and novice mistresses. A~ the formal opening of the Institute, on the evening of July 31, His Excellency,. the Most Reverend John F. O'Hara, C.S.C., D.D., will deliver the address. From August I to 7, there will be three lectures each morning. Topics and speakers for these series of lectures are: "'The Role of the Sister Superior and Novice Mistress," by Rev. Paul Philippe, O.P.; "The Theology of the Religious Life and the Vows," by Rev. Joseph Buckley, S.M.; and "Ascetical and Mystical Theology," by Rev. Charles Corcoran, C.S.C. Each after~ noon, August 1-6, the three lecturers will cbnduct workshops on their subject-matter. On four evenings, August I-4, there will be 174 Julg, 1953 NEws AND VIEWS special lectures, running simultaneously, as follows: "The Liturgy and the R~ligious Life," by Rt. Rev. Martin Hellriegel; "Canon Law for Religious," by Rev. Romaeus O'Brien, O.Carm.; and "Psycho-physiology and Religious Sisterhoods," by Rev. Gerald Kelly, S.J. The Institute will close on the morning of August 7 with an address by Very Rev. Theodore M. He.sbargh, C:S.C., President of the Uni-versity of Notre Dame. Morol Theology ond Love There was a day when the science of Christian moralit~r included everything that is now partitioned into moral theology, ascetical the-ology, and mystical theology: in othei~'words, it included the entire Christian life, in all its degreesof perfection. Bdt the very growth of the su,bject-matter made some kin~i of division necessary, at least for teaching purposes. This division more or less limited moral the-ology to the sphere of what is obli~Tator(/: tb the study of laws, of the exact limits of the obligations imposed by the laws, to the.conditions which might constitute exemptions from these laws. and so foith. There is one great advantage of this ~partiti0n: it makes a dear distinction between what is obli~Tator~l and what is superero~lator~t; and this distinction is ext~rbmely important for the preservation of peace of soul. Nevertheless, from the point of view of moral the-ology, there is also a decided disadvantage: the science is made to ap-. pear too negative. Perhaps every student and professor of moral the-ology has been conscious of this disadgantage, and perhaps many of them h:~ve tried to find some way of introducing a more.positive and inspirational dement into moral theology without, of course, scaring its basic clarity. Father G. Gilleman, S.J., a Belgian Jesuit who teaches theology in India, suggests that moral theology can gain its necessary inspira-tional note by emphasizing charity as the very soul of the Christian life--which it truly is, whether in the sphere of obligation or' of supererogation. Those who ire'intdr~sted in improving.the method of moral theology should nbt fail to read Father Gilleman's book. The title is, Le primat de la charitd en thdologlie morale. It is pob-lished by E. Nauwelaerts, Louvain, Belgium. The price is 225 Bel-gian fr'ancs. $t. Joseph Research Center A St. Joseph" Research and Documentation Center has been estab-lished at St. Joseph's Oratory, Montreal 26, Quebec. The constitu- 7.5 NEWS AND VIEWS tions of this organization have the approval of His Eminence, Paul Cardinal Lel~er, Archbishop of Montreal. The purpose of the so-ciety is to encourage a more profound study of the position of St. 2o-seph, and eventually to subsidize works published on the saint. It will sponsor research in fields such as church history, liturgy, and the arts, as well asin theology. Membership is open to' all interested in-dividuals or groups. Inquiries can be sent directly to St. Joseph's Oratory in Montreal or to Rev. F. L. Filas, S.J., at Loyola Univer-sity, Chicago 26, Illinois. Scholarships at Catholic University" The Catholic University of America has made provision for. 160 half-tuition scholarships for post graduate studies for the next aca-demic year. Open to lay men and women, priests, Brothers, and Sisters, the grants/ worth $300 towards 'tuition, will be awarded on the basis of scholastic excellence and financial need of the applicant who is entering on post graduate work. Grants are available in all studies except philosophy, engineering, and architecture. Appli-cants should write to the Registrar, Department G, Catholic Univer- ¯ sity of America, Washington, D.C., for additional details on the program. Office of the Passion in English The Confraternity of the Passion, in answer to many requests, has had The Little Ofl$ce of the Passion of Our Lord desus Christ translated into English and made available in Small booklet form. The booklet may be obtained for 25 cents from the Confraternity of the Passion, Sacred Heart Retreat, 1924 Newburg Road', Louisville, Kentucky', or from any Passionist Monastery. ~ Layos Catholic Records Layos Records is a Hollywood recording company devoted ex-clusively to the production of Catholic records. The first record, " "Act of Contrition," is already in circulation. Original music was composed by Peter; Jona Korn, and the piece is performed by the Roger Wagner Chorale. The company plans to sell the recordings through advertisements in the Catholic press. A five-year schedule calls for the production of a new Catholic record, at six-week inter-vals. The firm is being advised in its musical program by Father John Cremins, head of the music depastment of the Los Angele~s Archdiocese. The record company is anxious to ha~,e suggestions from Catholic music and audio-visual departments regarding the type of material to be recorded. 176 On !:he Particular i:::xamen [EDITORS' NOTE: The first two articles on the particulmr examen .arrive~l almost simultaneously. The fact that the first is from an American Brother studying in Switzerland and the second from a Belgian missionary in India would seem" to indicate, universal interest in this practice of asceticism. The third contribution to this "sytfiposium"'is .from a member of the Jesuit Mission Band of the New Yot;k province. Communications from Our readers that may bring some more hdpful ideas to the practice of the particular examen are: welcome.] William T. Anderson, S.M. UMAN nature is prone tO falling into a rut. Those who lead very ordered lives often become slaves to routine. Religious sometimes feel the deadening effe~ct of routine and.habit: in fact, if we ark not car~eful, we find ourselves going to chapel without any preparation and without ~any aim. Day after day slips by and, before we know it, a year is gone. When .we 'take inventory at the annual-retreat, the shelves of our spiritual warehouse look" bare indeed. Perhaps we ought once in a while to ask ourselves a few embar-rassing questions on our religious duties. The reflections listed below are the result of just such a scrubbing of the~ soul. What effect has particular examen had on me? What is my attitude towards this ex-ercise? What importance has this exercise ir~ the spiritual life? Is there any direct ratio between successful zeal and progress in particu-lar examen? After .asking yourself these questions, try to answer them honestly. Then read on and see whetheroyou agree with the ideas given below. 1. A written record is a "'must" for examen. A record book for examen was insisted on in the novitiate. Over and over we heard how necessary this was. Yetsome 'religious perhapscast their examen book out the window of the car carrying them from the novitiate to the train station. Some of us used it for a while, but then discarded it. And that ~ras the beginning of the end. Perhaps most religious who do not make examen with a record as a help do not make exa-men. I~ this a rash statement? Do .you make examen faithfully without a iecord? Does your personal experience agree with this observation ? 177 "~,VILLIAM T, ./~NDERSON Re~iea2 for Religious 2. The subject for~ examen must be specific. If the subject is not limited to definite occasions during the day, or to specific'times scat-tered oxier the usual schedule, after a time the examen, period becomes' " 6nd during which 6u~ Stomach continually reminds us "that a meal is not,far off, or it is a p~eriod of planning unconsciously our work for the rest of the day or the morrow. Vagueness here is the deadly ene-my of progress. 3. Our apostolic influence is in direct ratio to our efforts at par-ticular examen. We learned in the scholasticate that while knowl-edge is very necessary for a teacher, the more important ingredient for a successful teacher and religious educator was the hbility to get along with people and to attract souls. Anyone who has taught fora few years will attest to the authenticity of this statement. Any one will also agree that teaching boys, especially adolescent b.oys,.can be a very nerve-racking job. Nervous tension may ruin any influence which we might have with students when we use sarcasm or unjust punishments, show favoritism or laxity on some occa-sions, or exercise undue ~ever!ty on others. Examen is the means which we have at our disposal to develop in us that self=control which is so necessary for the teacher. To be kind when words of sarcasm rise to outlips, to be exacting ~h~n we fed sluggish and lazy, to give words of correction which yet, do not cut, to be patient when we have had little sleep or food (as on fast days), ~o work steadily despite the fact that "results" are not forthcoming--is M1 this.poisible without examen? Most prob-ably not. As soon as we stop working at examen, we find ourselves difficult to get along with, harsh, lazy, or sarcastic. The weeds of our defects spring up rapidly'bnce we lay down the hoe of particular exam'en. 4. Particular examen is a sine qua non for communit~l life. All of the.foregoing can be just as well applied to community life. Com-munity life sometimes causes a lot of friction, some heat, and at times, even fire. Examen is the~exercise we need to mold our charac-ters so that we learn to avoid occasions which.cause arguments' or to cement, fraternal relations, once they are broken.~ Community life is sometimes a big cross; there is no need to make Jrbigger for a fellow r~ligious. 5. Examen is one of the best means we have of attaining our ideal, desus,'Son of Marv. Putting off the old man and putting on the new man is quite a job for us weak mortals, afflicted as we.are by 1"78 953 PARTICULAR EXAMEN the effects of original sin. It seems impossible that a religious can be sincere and continue hi~ striving for perfection in religious life with-out keeping up with the daily examen. Progress tgward making ourselves like to Jesus, Son of Mary, is made only by the grace of God and constant striving on,our part. Much of oar progress in the spiritual life proceeds, ex opere operantis. And examen is an excel-lent measuring rod for our own effort. 6. Examen is one of our most poten~t means of recruitment. Stu-dents join our ranks, not because of what we say or what we write. but because o~ what we are. If we are real religious, if we are. happy in the knowledge that we are striving to perfect ourselves,, if we show the acquired virtues of patience, charity, humility, and piety, it is ~mpossible that recruits will not come to us. Is there a. better adver, tisement for the religious life than a real religious, one who is daily advancing in virtue? Holiness attracts. Examen is a potent means of holiness. . Perhaps you do not agree with all or even any of the foregoing reflections. 'Be that as it may, you must admit that, granted that particular examen is necessary, we often negl.ect this important reli-gious exercise. Not only must we strive to be present for the examen each day, but we must make it fruitful by daily striving.~ Growth. in" virtue seems to demand the daily examen. As his particular examen goes, so goes the religious. P. De Letter, S.J. The particular examen i~ a common practice of modern spiritual-ity, As every canonical fiovice knows, it consists in direct.ing atten-tion to a particular point, either a fault to be corrected or some practice of virtue, to be fostered. Popularized if not originated by St. Ignatius~ of Loyola, this has become a common tactic in the spir-itual life. All have a passing acquaintance with it. As proposed in the Spiritual ExWcises, attention is to be focused on the particular examen three times every day: at the morning oblation, in theexam-ination of conscience at noon, and again 'during the evening exam-ination. Through this practice gifferent defects, are "gradually elim-inated and needed virtues acquired. 179 ~ P DE LETTER Remeto for Rehgtous A Fact from Experience Yet some religious do not succeed with the particular examen. They apparently fail to see its use 6r grasp its meaning: At any rate, they draw little, profit from it even whrn they do not drop it alto-gether as a useless formality. This is true even among religious who in no way neglect their interior life. Their failure is not due to wil-ful neglect or to tepidity. They simply do not' see their way to making a success of the practice. . Since sound spiritual writers speak so highly of the worth of the particular examen, it seems desirable to examine some apparent neglect and to revalue._.this spiritual exercise. We may sum up its importance by saying it is a sign of spiritual vitality, especially for those who have spent some years in religion. It may not be all-important m itself, at least when it is thought of and practiced in too narrow a manner. Generally its practice is a good indication that.the interior life is thriving. More often than not, its neglect means alack of spiritual vitality. In a limited sense, fidelity to" the practice of the examen can serve as a barometer reading of spiriti~al fervor. A Restricted Conception of the. Exarnen The formal idea of the particular examen can be applied in two different ways regarding both the choice of the subject matter and the manner of conceiving its pragtice. One way is very concrete and definite, perhaps too mechanical and artificial at least for life-span practice. For instance, we decide on rooting out a habitual fault such as the neglect of silence, resolve to avoid transgressions, and keep a record of the eventually-decreasing faults. Or we concentrate our attention on a specific practice of virtue such as kind interpretation of the actions of others and endeavor to. increase the number of these acts throughout the day, checking at noon and night to see how we have succeeded. This method is very rightly advised in the beginning of the religious life. It is an effective means of correcting exterior faults and defects and of gradually developing a religious way of thinking, speaking, and acting. It is also useful at other periods in life when it is necessary to remedy some faulty way of speaking'or acting that has crept in unnoticed. Another Approach If the particular examen is to measure up to what writers say about it and be a really powerful means of progress, there ought to be another way of conceiving its practice which does justice to its 180 1953 PARTICULAR EXAMEN importance. A number of religious have given the assurance that the following approach "works." Instead of taking just any particular fault or practice of virtue, we should fix on some central interest or need of our spiritual life. If the subiect is important it will less easily be forgotten. Then its !~ractlce, oreferably positive rather than nega-tive, should be conceived in a broad and inclusive manner. By means of the resolve made and renewdd at the three times--morning, noon, and night--we work at gradually penetrating our working day with an ideal or conviction rather than at c.ounting a number of particular acts 6r ,defects. To be more specific, the most suitable ;sub.iect matter for our par-ticul~ r examen is the main resolution or resolutions of our annual re- " treat. When this subiect is properly" chosen, it answers a real need and generMly our great~st one. It may crystallize into some maxim or mqtto. Then the oractice will consist in keeping this before our mind or recalling it when needed and pbssible. We thus slowly come to live in the atmost)here or disposition which our watchword con-veys. ¯ We begin to think, speak, and act accordingly. Some examples are: "The LordIoves a cheerful giver": "Ndt for me, Lord, but for Thee": "To have that mind in you which is in Christ." The prac-tice of framing our resolution in a driving maxim or a quotation from Scripture can be very helpful 'though it is not essential. What is essential is to keep before our mind a definite objective, sufficiently central and important for our personal interior life, such as cannot be lost sight of as long as our effort for spiritual "progress is kept alive. In this method our faithfulness and success in the,practice of the par-ticular examen are the criterion of our vitality and fervor. This will create a .congenial interior climate in which our souls can thrive. The importance of tEis concep~ion of the examen is evident at once. Nor is there any danger that we shall overlook and forget it throughout a busy day. If our work is permeated with a driving spiritual ideal, as it should be if it is to be different from mere secular work, a particular examen that looks after 6ur present main spiritual need will help sustain this retreat-clear inspiration. It is only in moments of forgetfulness when we neglect grace and allow natural-ism to guide our thought or conduct that the particular examen will also suffer from this spiritual thoughtlessness, But the examen itself, by reason of the resolve and the effort it implies, helps to forestall or exclude and .certainly to dimi6ish these "secular moments" in our days. 181 P. DE LETTER Review [or Religious Room [or Varietg We need not fear that this method will leave no room for a helpful variety that will maintain interest. When our particular examen aims at our central, yet definite, spiritual interest or need, its subject, matter can and naturally will take on many different aspects according to the variations of that interest or need, directed both by grace and by our psychology. As a matter of fact, our spiritual needs and interests evolve gradhally according to seasons and circumstances and to the inspirations of grace. These will reveal now one,e, ~now another side which before remained more or less hidden or unnoficed. Moreover, when our retreat resolutio.n, as is gener~ally the case, is not restricted to one but foresees several particular needs, we can alternate the practice and change from one to the other when the 'one seems to have worn out and lost its grip. Later, we can often return to the first with a refreshed outlook and new ardor. ( Dispositions and/or Acts Does this manner of practicing the examen require specific acts as does the first, or may we dispense with these? It may require them and generally does. That depends on the subject matter and on in-dividual dispositions. Some people can maintain a habitual disposi-tion of recollectedness or selflessness without insis(ing on or multiply- , ing definite acts. Others are in need of such acts, which arise spon-taneously from their resolve to be recollected or self-forgetful. spirit of praye.r normally demands some explicit acts of formal prayer; habitual or virtual prayer alone would not be sufficient. Self-lessness, trust, apostolic zeal can be habitual dispositions, but some explicit acts, whether exterior or interior, would not do any harm but would help very much even if they were not altogether necessary. The marking in a book after the noon "and evening check-up, which is generally a real help to our dodging human nature,'is not to be overlooked in this second way. But it need not be done in numer-als. Some people are congenitally poor in.arithmetic. Instead of marking the number of acts or df faults, a gener~al notation may suf-fice, for instance: good, average, poor; or A, B, C; or any way one prefers. When we mean business with our particular examen and make use of all the means to succeed, we still must expect times when our effort will have little success. Some days everything goes well spir-itually; other days it does not. These ups and downs need not be 182 July, 1953 PARTICULAR EXAMEN ; magnified; even in0 the "downs:' our effort can and generally does remain substantially faithful and successful to an extent. This should not be oveHooked: otherwise unwarranted and naive optim-ism may flounder during low moods, Provided our desire and effort .does not flag, even this partly unsuccessful particular examen still marks a steady progress. - The second way of conceiving and. practicing the particular exa-men makes the exercise not just a small device for casual use if it suits but rather an important ~nd obligatory factor in every serious effort for progress. Without it. spiritual life~.slackens if it does not die down. Perhaps we should say that every, fervent life actually keeps this practice of the particular examen, though possibly without giving it that name. Every fervent spirituality is practically boun,d to aim at and concentrate on some definite objective required by the present need. Fervent sduls do so spontaneously. It can only make for better ~esults if they are aware of this law of spiritual vitality and resolve to follow it. Seen in this light, the particular examen-is an essential unit inthe structureof spiritual progress. It is, not just a decorative trifle. We need not fear that this determined and steady effort at lJrog-ress in one particular direction will result in a state of uneasy t~nslon and nervousness. As in the whole spiritual life, so also here, ti~e-de-sire and endeavor for advancement must combine ardor and peace,, earnestness and patience, genuine'effort and disinterested acceptance of the results. For is it not grace that makes our effort possible and suc-cessful? Human endeavor is a subordinate factor. It is no doubt, necessary: grace does ndt replaceit. But it is trust in grace combined with sincerity in not sparing ourselves unduly that makes a burning, yet peaceful ardor possible. The particular examen, understood in this grand and realistic way,, repays, th~ effort we make in a measure which it is impossible,to anticipate. Fidelity to grace is often re-warded beyond human expectation. Gabriel A. Zema, S.J. 1. Let us take, for example, the habit of passing on to a friend or acquaintance our low opinion of the fault or sin 0f another. De-pending on circumstances, the thing may be no sin at all, a.venial, or a mortal sin. Even if no actual sin, it is a habit that belongs to no 183 GABRIEL A. ZEMA lady or gentleman; and it can lead to a lot of trouble. 2. On rising, or after morning prayer, write a figure, say "3," some place where you can again see it at the end of the day. (Even nosey people will never know what "3" stands for.) For you "Y' means you are determined to control your tongue three times that day on the habit you set ouk to break. 3. When you look at the figure at the end of the day while examining your conscience as every sincere re!igious.should--it is pos- Sible you won't know what it stands for yourself. You may even have forgotten you put it there. ,But a little reflection will bring back the breaking-that-habit idea. 4. Very well, begin all over again. On the second day you may find that you have not controlled your tongue even once. Go to the third day more determined than ever. 5. I~eep'up the practice for ten or twelve days. You will find a definite improvement if you are at all serious about it. 6. At the end of ten or twelve days take tip another fault and give it ~he same treatment. Follow the same procedure. After you have worked on three or four faults.--never forgetting to keep im-' proving on them--go back to the first one and see how the patient looks! 7. In morning and evening prayers ask Our Lady to come to your aid. BOOK NOTICE THE INTERIOR CARMEL: THE THREEFOLD WAY OF LOVE, by John C. H. Wu, a very brilliant Chinese. convert, diplomat, and scholar, "wi'll help highly intellectual.lay men and women to raise their spiritual lives of contemplation and divine love td an equal height and to give them something of the lofty mysticism that char-acterized St. John of the Cross. It will also aid very busy religious or priests to make their exterior activities conducive to a ,higher and more intense internal spirit. Interestingly and inspiringly Dr. Wu quotes the ancient Cbiriese sages, Confucius and Mencius, to rein-force the lessons of modern Catholic and Spanish Carmelite mysti-cism. (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1953. Pp. xii + 257. $3.25.) 184 Child Mo!:her: r cious ynt:hesis Mother Winifred Corrigan, r.c. AT HOLY COMMUNION, the soul authentically in love with ~ God, is sometimes conscious of itself as a banq~ethall in which the memorable gospel of the anointing of the Lord's feet by "a sinner" is being reenacted. This soul becomes aware in itself of two sep.arate impulses. One is the generous spirit of the Magdalen, utterly expending self for the beloved Master, freely offering to spend its best years in obscurity or lovingly giving its body to be burned. The other impulse, also within .the soul, is viewing, rea-soning, even objecting: "To what purpose is this waste?" It is the soul speaking in terms of the apostle 3udas, not yet the traitor, who prudently considers the extravagance of broken alabaster."For this might have been sold for much, and given to the poor." That Our Blessed Lord openly favored and approved the sym-bolic self-surrender ~f Mary Magdalen, the sinner, we know. "The poor you have always with you but me you have not.always." We have experienced, too, bow the logic of Divine Wisdom reconciles our opposing desires and restores equilibrium. "Thy. sins are for-given thee. Thy faith hath'made thee safe, go in peace." Devotion to Mary performs a similar function. It tends to unify two spiritual realities sometimes thought to be at variance: the doctrines of spir-itual" cbildbood and spir!tual motherhood. Why are these doctrines ever considered incomigatible? In the natural order, it is plain that the two states, childhood and mother-hood, are not in opposition. Obviously, the same person can be both child and mother. The basic concept, mother, one who merci-fully sustains the life of her offspring ("do not kill it"), is unfor-gettably presented to us as illustrating the wisdom of Solomon. "Give the living Child to this woman.for she is the mother there-of." This concept of mother ~choes the first woman's name, Eve, mother of the living. The concept of child, in the Divine Mind, is expressed for us in the Fourth Commandment. In the Book of Ec-clesiasticus (Chapter 3) the blessings of fruitfulness and long life are promised in detail to the loving, obedient child. Writing to his dear Ephesians, St. Paul confirms this divine revelation for New Testa- 185 MOTHER WINIFRED CORRIGAN Review for Religious merit times.- "Children, obey your parents in. the Lord, for this is just. Honor thy father and thy mother, which is the first command-ment with a prorriise: that it may be well with thee, and thou mayest be long lived upon earth." Thus, for the Christian, it is natural for the faithful child to become fruitful, nor would the sacrifice of mar- ¯ riage and family usually be required in order to keep the Fourth Commandment. In the supernatural order, the harmonious' sequence between the roles of child and mother is less apparent. In making ready to lighten up the mists by reference to M.ary, it may be well to clarify the meaning of the terms, spiritual childhood and spiritual mother-hood, according to Scripture and the lives of the saints. Spiritual Childhood Our Lord has strongly set forth the reality, even. the necessity of spiritual childhood. "Amen, I say to you, unless you be converted, and become as little, children, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." He then counsels the humility of a little child for his disciples, and for all who would be "greater in the kingdom of heaven." The reality of spiritual motherhood is presented for us in the forceful language of St. Paul. "My little dhildren," he wrote to the Galatians, "of whom I am in labor again, until Christ be formed in you." His apostolic cry for souls re-echoes the appeal of the Divine Lover, heard in the Old Testament (Isaias 49:15). There it tran-scends rather than distinguishes itself from the pangs of .natural motherhood. "Can a woman forget her infant, so as not to have pity on the son of her wombs. And if she should forget, y.et will I not forget thee/' Amid the miracles of Our Lord Jesus Christ, we find this divine, motherly concern for human needs manifesting itself in a sweet, considerate way. He took the hand of Jairus' 12"-year-old daughter and raised her from the dead. Then, having counselled her parents to secrecy, he "commanded that something should be given her to eat." Some of tl'Je saints have discovdred the .beautiful qualities of spir-itual childhood and spiritual motherhood.contained in the above and similar passages. At Holy Communion, they have explored the mystery of their Eucharistic Lord .entering the human body, resting there like a helpless, unborn child, in order to nourish the life of the soul. The Divine Word, repeating the mother's cry: "Do not kill 186 Jul~,1953 GRACIOUS SYNTHESIS it!" 'daily fulfills His own promise: "The bread that I will give. is my flesh, for the life of the world." The saints have understood how, by their very self-effacement, by being belittled and becoming as little children, they too can maternally assis~ in the birth, growth, and' development of the Mystical Body. St. Th~r~se of the Ch'ild Jesus (1873-1897) has renewed the interest of the modern world in the doctrine Of spiritual.childhood: Her position as youngest child of the Martin family and her early entrance into religious life preserved in her soul the true attitude of a child. How this spirit of utter dependence on her heavenly Father helped her to fulfill her maternal duties as nox}ice mistress to the souls "who came to me asking for food," she tells with unique charm in her Autobiographgt (p. 213). Her present title of patroness of the missions suggests the breadth of her spiritual moFherh0od, hidden deep in her youth and Carmel. No discordant contrast is the spirituality of Blessed Th~r~se Couderc (1805-1885), foundress of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Retreat in the Cenacl~. As the oldest girl in a large family and as young superior of a religious community, sloe early developed the valiant traits characteristi(of spiritual motherhood. Then. con-sequent upon bet consecration to Our Lady, shesaw her responsibili-ties removed and she went down willingly into years of oblivion. In her 60th year, Blessed Th~r~se or, as we know her better, Mother Th~r~se, had emerged from the darkness of humiliation and failure, to find herself a humble, cherished adorer confronted with the holi-ness of God. "He treats me always." she wrote at this time, "like a child who would not have the strength to bear trials, Also the sweetness He makes me feel in His service makes me forget and bear all." This is the stage at which she detailed her doctrine of self-surrender. While it graduall~ led her into the thicket of unitive suffering and reparation, she continued to call it an easy means of sanctification, noting that there is "nothing so sweet to practice.': Marg, the Ideal The ideal of self-surrender is Our Lady of the Cenacle. It is Our- Blessed Mother in th~ last. perhaps 15-year, epoch of her earthly life. She has already received her Divine son's formal commission for the motherhood of mankind, on Calvary. In the Cenacle or "upper room," by a mother's persevering prayer and a claild's anonymity- ("who when she was first of all became-the last" St. Bernard), 187 COMMUNICATIONS ReotetO [or Reltgtot~s Mary continues to attract us to the sublime by the gracious synthesis of her life. In religious life, Mary's spirit is learned and gained in a'variety o.f ways: perhaps in the shared intimacy of Holy Communion, perhaps in the fragrant solitude of a retreat. Our Lady is ever the, true child ,and the true mother. Her spirit, '!meek and strong, zealous and prudent, humble and courageous, pure and fruitful," imparts to us our own proper measure of both these roles. When we have reverently analyzed ~and appreciated the doctrines of spiritual childhood and spiritual motherhood, we may be allowed to accommodate an angel's words as our simple directive,. "Take the Child and His mother." Thus, sincere, day to day imitatio'n of Our Blessed Mother. gradually becomes our meaningful response to an ever more imRerative invitation. We then find that we have tended to integrate in our spiritual .life the two ways'of which Mary, our model, is the gracious synthesis. Reverend Fathers: I agree with Sr. Ma~y Jude', 0.P., in her articl~, "The Summa for Sisters" (March, 1953), that a study of the works of St. Thomas would help our Sisters become better religious and better teachers However, I do not agree with Sister regarding "the distinctive phe-nomenon of the active orders today." Professed religious who are seeking admission to contemplative orders are a growing concern of the Church, but they are not a phe-nomenon. They are the logical result of the transition that has been taking place within active orders. Truly "their final profession is far enough behind," but a glance at those former days may illuminate the darkness, mistrust, and mis-understanding that surrounds them. When ~hey entered religious life the goal was one--it was clear-cut, that is, perfection which would I, mean intimate union with God. During their novitiate and perhaps I' for the first ten years of their religious life their concentrated all their it efforts to attain this end. Then stress was not on education, nursing, i! or Catholic Action, but on the presence of God and the pursuit of I virtue; however, because of pressure from without, the change of l 188 duly, 1953 COMMUNICATIONS standards, and the requirements by the St'ate, professional knowledge, ability, and skill became a necessity. Therefore. higher education with Saturday and weekday classes was added to teaching, plus parent-teacher m~etings, sodalities, public relation groups, discussion clubs and first~id courses. These religious lack neither intelligence nor good will. They readily admit with St. Thomas the greatness of the charity of the apostolate. Theylive, for the most part, lives of self-renunciation and sacrific6. Other,wise they would not be seeking admission to the cloister.- Nor are they seeking only the joys of contemplation. Most of them would gladly spend themselves and be spent in the apostdlate if they could still be c~rtain that their union with God was increasing not decreasing. But the signs point in the opposite direction. Let us look at one of these Sisters of fifteen y~ars ago. Today, instead of the one goal of 'union with God, she has another, that of professional competence. What has happened to her.as a result? First, the intensity of her desires and her efforts in the spir~itual life has naturally been weakened by her concentration on her work. Second!y, the virtues of the interior life, silence, and recollection do not have the opportunity for development they had in fdrmer days. Distractions in one form or another and activity hinder their growth. Thirdly, the virtues of the hiddefi life have become watery. They lack the positive yirility that so characterizes interior souls. She is in the world and does not wish to be of the world, yet its spirit of ac-tivity and distraction are now hers. ~ Viewing these results, she finds a growing conviction that her. spiritual life is deprived of the degree of vitality that once was hers and thai the culprit is activity. From this conviction flows the fear that her work and its accessories are separating her from Christ. It is not the fear of a neurotic; it is a well:founded fear that demands recognition and attention. No zealous religious desires to go to heaven alone; no thinking religious denies the value of the apostolic life,, but there is much ac-tivity in the life of the religious today that could not conceivably be put in the category of Apostolic. Those who strive to unite prayer and action as St. Paul and St. Thomas, St. Catherine and St, Teresa of Avila did, find they fall short of the ideal, in fact they fail. Tl~is is not just subjective thinking. It can be proven without much spiritual examination. As in nations, so in groups, and so with the individual, the pe- 189 COMMUNICATIONS ~" riod of adjustment is 'fraught with dangers. These must not be spurned. They should be recognized and analyzed. It is the chal- . lenge of our age. , The desire for contemplation is rapidly growing in America, not o~ly.in orders of women but also among men. We have a Father Moore, a Father Raymond, and a Father Merton, to name only a few outstanding ones, to prove this. Not only is contemplation sought by' religious in active orders, but so many young, eager Americans have sought admission to the Trappist Monastery in Kentucky that they .have had to build five new foundations in a short time, The Carthusians, stiil in their infancy in America, have a waiting list. All. this is significant. ¯ Would Sr. Mary Jude say all these people were exceptions, or that they lack the ability to find the delicate balance between prayer and work. I doubt it. Looking at it from this' broader .point of view, we see that this cbndition of which~ Sister M, Jude speaks i~ only a branch of a much larger river that is sweeping America from coast to coast. If we wish to insure the vitality and growth of our active orders, we must see that. the desire for intimate union 'with Christ is given outlets and opportunities for development, .even if it means the curtailment of many activities. We can do without the latter, but without the for-mer all action is but sounding brass and tinklilag cymbals. --A SYMPATHIZER. "BLESSED BE HER GLORIOUS ASSUMPTION" .On December 23, 1952, Our Holy Father, Pope Pius XII, decreed that the in-vocation printed above is.to be added, to'the Divine Praises whenever they are re-cited after Mass or'after Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament.' In the official publi-cation of this decree, which appeared in the Acti~ Apostolica Sed~'s under date of March 21, 1953, vol. 45, p. 194, it was stated that this new invocation should be inserted after the invocation "!Blessed be~ th~ Name of Mary Virgin and Mother." However, L'Osseroatore Romano for April 9 contained a correction, issued by the Sacred Congregation of Rites on Apr!l 8, to the effect that it should be inserted im-mediately after the other invocation: ',',Blessed be her Holy and Immaculate C.oncep, tion." ,. The ob'.i~ati0n of inserting this new. invocation into the Divine Praises begins on dune 21, 1953, that date being three months from the date of the ACtu Apos-tolicae Sedis in which the decree appeared, in conformity with canon 9 of the Code of Canon Law. We take this occasion to remind our readers that on Oc~0ber 31-, 1950, in con-nection with the formal definition, Pope Pius XII decreed that the invocation Queen assumed into f-leaven should be added to the Litany of Loretto after the ~'oCation "Queen conceived without original :sin." At the same time he also up-, proved a new Mass which is to replace the Mass formerly said on the Feast of the Assumption. 190 I Spiri :ual Progress and Regress Charles A. Nash, S.J. AN IDEA as old as St, Augustine, and. rebbrn in Rodriguez, pic-tures the spiritual life "as a ,b~all of string you are carefully winding up. IL once you drop it, it readily unwinds, and it takes a long time and much effort to .wind it up again. This same idea, on a natural plane, permeates the business day of six thousand psychiatrists in the United States who have become profoundly, interested in what happens once the ball of life is dropped and starts to unwind. Their technical name for it is regression or the reversal of t~ae normal steps Of growth. Regression is of such paramount im-portance in psychiatry that it is often .defined as "the science of re-gressive phenomena." The aim of this article is to picture regression in the spiritual life and.to use psychiatric data in order to empha.size certain psychological factbrs that underlie spiritual progress. " Because it is their.daily, business, psychiatrists today are fast be-coming experts in the delicate art of character change or the forward step to maturity, As modern scientific.innovators in an ancient field. these medical specialists have made many valuable scientific investi-gations and acquired much practical experience in the last twenty-five years. Religious ark wise to profit by some of their ideas on regress and pr,og~ess toward maturity 'which have a direct practical bearing on the religiou~ life. Like the psychiatrist, a religious, too, practices daily the delicate art of character change, but be aims at a greater spiritual maturity. The forward progress at which a psy-chiatrist aims in treating his patient strikes a close parallel to the for-ward progress of a religious in the spiritual life. Both involve a gradual change of character. Psychiatrists must know character change in two directions, both Zegre~s and progress. The classic exampl,e of regression or unwinding in human life is old age. We are often a casual witness when time, by its slow process, lays its fingeron a man. We have watched elderly PerSons gradually drop things most cherished in !ife, one by one. first a man b~gins to lose the wide ifiterests he once had. Sports no longer interest him; he stops traveling is much as he used to; his friendships narrow dow.n; interest in his daily, work begins to lag. All gradually culminate in his retirement.1 If he.k~eps his mind open '~Leland El Hinsie?Concepts and Problems of Ps~ychotherapg, p. 124: Understand-able Psgchiatrg, chapter on "Regression." * 191 ¯ CHARLES A. NA~H Reoietu for Religious and pliant and is ready to welcome whatever the future may bring, the elderly pers.on often mqves gracefully through his last years. Often enough, however, his mind closes up and he loses track of the day and the hour. He becomes hostile to what is new, to change, to innovation, closing off hislmind to the future. In the ,course of time he may become self-centered and petulant, and fall back upon the 'manners of his childhood, then of his infancy. He may have to be bathed, fed, dressed, assisted in walking. For him it is a haven of repose, a citadel of safety. He has reverted to his "second child-hood" and regressed to the activities of an infant. Besides the com-plete unwinding of habits of maturity in "second childhood," there are many pictures of partially unwound habits which are but-smaller portraits on a much reduced scale. Unwinding Spiritual Life Complete spiritual regression can be 'seen in-the nominal of "fallen-away" Catholic of any age who knows his religion but drops. its practice entirely. The unwinding spiritual, life runs down a path more or_ less parallel to "old age and ~econd childhood." The ¯"fallen-away" .Catholic's practical interest in religion slowly wanes, and he gradually closes off his mind to religion, becoming spiritually self-centered. One by one he drops the religious practices he once cher-ished. -Sunday is like any other day; the churchdoor remains ever .i:los~d. He stops going to Mass; he falls away from the Sacraments: his prayer life diminishes to a minimum or none at all. Gradually, his acquired spiritual habits Unwind until he is back to "childhood," where spiritual obligations and.moral responsibilities are at a mini-mum. He has traded away God for careless, vacant ioaming. As far as religion is concerned, he is once' again like a small boy, sans reason and his seventh birthday. Instead of progressing to an ever greater possession of God, he has gone backwards. Here, too, miniature por-traits of regression are quite common in the spiritual life where a spiritual habit or two may start to unwind. Progress and regress follow definite patterns. .One is a dynamic, forward-moving pattern toward maturity; the other moves back-ward down the path a man has come up, Life experience normally present~ the picture of a continuum of, forward growth along a life-line which falls into natural periods: birth, childhood,, adolescence, young manhood, adulthood, change of life, and decline. It is the common lot of mortal man to :crown his numberless daily experi- 192 Jul~j, 1953 PROGRESS AND REGRESS ences with.an ever greater maturity. This growing maturity is dearly won through countless small successes. In sharp contrast, the re-gression pattern, at any age and at any level of development, is a're-versal of the' normal steps of growth along', this life-line. Read the life-line forward and you have progress; read it backward and you have regression. Psychiatrists'~tell us that every man takes a backward step now and then. No one, save Christ our Lord and His Blessed Mother, is co,mple.te master of his every action. For religious, the single back-ward step may occur in problems of obedience,' the daily order, pov-erty, t~he practice of virtue, the daily rosary, spiritual reading--to name but a few possibilities. The single backward step is not. so significant. When this backward step becomes a definite pattern, then real spiritual regression is beginning. But despite" occasional backward steps, psychiatrists say the nor-real person is about ninety per cent adjusted to life.~ About ten per "cent of life he cannot quite master and he dodges it in one way or another. In other words, man's daily batting average is about .900; the ratio of small successes in life to small failures is about ninety to ten. Whether saint or sinner, some failure pursues him every day, but success (forward progress) definitely predominates in his actions. Dgnamic Equilibrium Because he is fundamentally successful but always carries some failure in tow, the average person strikes a balance with life. He reacts in terms of an equilibrium--a dynamic, forward-moving equilibrium in which progressive factors predominate, ,but regressive ones are also present. This equilibrium ,is built into the very struc-ture of his mind through the years. It is his own practical system of reacting to life, his working method of dealing with experience de-rived ,from his past.psychological history. Psychiatrists have learned~ to investigate this equilibrium scientifically and now actually measure it,.with~scientific formulas,a When it breaks down, regression begins. If it does not break down, progress continues. ~This figure refers to the over-all or.comprehensive picture of all man's actions in meeting life. Personal success in one particular action, however, may vary from mastery, to littleor no control. Leland E. Hinsie, Concepts and Problems of Pay-. chotherapt./, p. 77. Edward A. Strecker, Fundamentals of Ps~/chiatr~/, graph on p. 231, 3E~lward A. Strecker, Fundamentals of Psv. chiatr~t, p. 51. Franz Alexander and H~len Ross, Dgnamic Psgchiatrg, p. 140. CHARLES A. NASH Reoieto for Religious This dynamic equilibrium produces manifold effects. It gives an even tenor to, man's ways and stability to his character. It embeds past success in the human system for'future successful operation. As a result, whatever a man does in his normal day leaves most of his old order standing. A singld act, forward or backward, leaves most of his autobiography of character largely unchanged. Occasional back-ward steps are readily tolerated and absorbed without throwing the forward motion offstride. Because of it, a major change of character. occurs slowly. A spiritual character change requires many actions over a considerable period of time. In many aspects of life this equilibrium acts as a shock-absorber, an internal ,resistance built right into the structure of personality for resisting the "blows of outrageous foitune." For instance, a death in the family may score a temporary psychological and emotional knockout in other members of the family~. But soon the pendulum swings back to normal and old habits take over once again. Gradu-ally, the appreciation of life built up through the years prevails, and life goes forward once more. Because of his equilibrium, a man does not deteriorate psychologically at one major blow, nor can ,he turn himself'inside out, for better or worse, overnight. Role o~ Failure After much failure or long-enduring stress, this same personal balance or equiliblium can wear thin or even "break down." When this occurs, the backward pattern of regression slowly begins. Then, a religious falls back upon lower and lower levels of his spiritual life, and becomes beset by earlier and earlier habits of his career. The first failure is easy to take, but not a series of them. Failtire is hard on morale, and daily failure has a numbing effect on our effort. The effect of failure is to close off the mind to the difficulty and 0fall back upon.earlier habits. After repeated failure, for instance, a religious may gradually close off his mind to formal mental prayer, and fall back upon his earlier habits when mental prayer was not part of the daily schedule. All spiritual regression has one point in common: it is a back-ward step to an earlier and easiei adjustment to the difficulties of the spiritual life. At the, same time, unfortunately, spiritual progress either slows down or stops. Part of the goal drops out of the picture "for the present," and there is a partial farewell to hopes of greater things. Instead of the "new man in Cl~rist," it is a return to the 194 PROGRESS AND REGRESS "old man" of self when spiritually less mature. The significance of regression in the spiritual life is that it sounds the knell of forward progress. Continued progress requires that a religious take failure~ in stride. Often small successes in life become so integrated into a religious per-sonality that they almost go unnoticed. We only see and take note of our failures, and they can come to loom large on the daily hori-zon. After repeated failure, therd is danger that a religious will close his mind and chart his future course by past failure. The true measure of the future, bower(r, is past success. There is no small touch of humility and wisdom in expecting some daily failure and not charting our future course by it. Man normally moves forward in a dynamic equilibrium with a ninety per-cent rate of success. American Stgiritualitg The pace or tempo of character chahge is a slow one. Being' American-minded, we naturally expe.~t rapid results. The very at- . mosphere of our times--an era of modern machine .efficiency, high- 13ressure business methods, production miracles, and high-speed travel--promotes an ingrained bent toward immediate success. Rightly' or wrongly, we feel there should be a twentieth-century ¯ masterkey to the spiritual life, a foolproof device as dependable ?s the multiplication table. Yet strangely enough, our spiritual life seems to move at the tempo of the first centuiy in a twentieth-century World. True character change may be hard to see. We Americans see the, entrancing picture of industrial production, but we look upon spiritual progress in our own lives as a vague or blank picture. Sanc-tifying grace and internal actual grace are both intangible and invis-ible. We sow the representative crops, the seeds of humility, love of God, obedience, and the other virtues, yet always wonder2--when's the harvest? To see results, we often make one good resolution suc-ceed another in rapid succession, turning our spiritual life into a series of short-term cycles, partly for variety, partly to convince ourselves that we are getting somewhere and making progress. But after six months of short-term cycles we are ready to doubt whether we are changed an iota. That old spiritual problem which we settled once, and for all two weeks ago somehow surges back to life again today. A series of .these experiences can readily warp ore: spiritual judgment or ~lgrudence and lead to loss of effort and discouragement. Then 195 CHARLES A. NASH Review for Religious failure charts our course. Being constitutiOnall~y successful, we shift our effort to some more promising line of_ endeavor, and the spirit of' spiritual progress becomes like a ghost on the outermost rim of the real business of daily living. 200-300 Hours Psychiatrists have much this same time-problem. How much time is required to make a permanent change in a patient's character~ How long to turn a man around and start him forward again on the life-line to maturity? A considerable body of evidence indicates that it takes two hundred to three hundred hours, roughly speaking; to make a permanent character change.4 This means one hour a day, seven days a week for about nine months devoted to making the change, whate;cer that change may be. No matter how un-American it may sound, there seems to be normally no substitute for time in a 'permanent character change. Even if our minds thunder and rever-berate in syllogisms, it still takes from two to three hundred hours to drive' the lesson home permanently and to relate it in experience to the concrete parts of life. A religious may profitably add a bit of timing to his spiritual motor; Permanent growth is not like reading through a spiritual book in three or four days ~nd expecting the result; it is more l,!ke the slow, nine-months' nurturing of the child in the mother's womb. It is not the work of a day or a week, but it finds a closer parallel in the one hour a day for nine months thata student devotes, say, to mathe-matics ~r history or language in school. Putting on a facet of Christ's personality is not done in one meditation; it slowly develops like the b.aby slowly developing back and neck muscles, balancin'g on his feet at six months, and finally learning to walk near the end of a year. Permanent character change, is more in the image of St.,Peter and the Apostles learning confidence in Christ over a period of several years, and still being a bit shaky at His death when confronted with actual life experience. But worth noting is the ever-recurring fact of suc-cess. After nine months in the womb the baby actually is born; a year later he walks; in nine months the student knows his history, mathematics, and language. In time the Apostles did attain cona-dence in Christ. Actual success is the constant experience of the hu-man race if timk and energy are dev6ted to the task. 4Leland E. Hinsie, Concepts and Problems of Psychotherapy, 11-12. 169. John Knight, S~o'ry oI My Psychoanalysis, 2-3. 196 155, 166- Ju~,~, ! 953 PROGRESS AND REGRESS ¥~rhat l~appens in two or three hundred hours? In that time our perso.nal equilibrium changes. Through ~ur mind and emotions there slowly winds a new track of virtue all its own. Character change invoIyes a rather thoroughgoing shift in our habitual reaction to life. It requires a new appreciation of life as a permanent part of the m~nd, a' new emotional pattern, a new reaction to a vast number of concrete situations. Suppose, for example, a close friend dies with whom you have associated night and day for ten years. In all the old situations which constantly remind you of this lost friend you m~lst make clear to yourself that you have this friend no longer, and that a renunciation is necessary. He is Vividly represented {n many personal memories and experiences. You will have to correct your reactions for many a day, and detachment must t~ke place separately in each instance. Similarly in character chan, ge. "The single action, the passing thought hardly dents the human system: it remains more like a feeble echo in the soul. A single action leaves one's equilibr!uin for meeting life largely unchanged. In two or three hundred" hours, however, the new reaction "works through" and permeates our mind and our thinking~ In that time it develops its own emotional pat-tern and becomes permanently related in experience to most of the concrete parts of life. Factors in Adult Progress As adults, we tend to sell human nature short. We frequently forget what a long way we have come since childhood, the countless number of small successes involved in our present degree of maturity. Starting out as a helpless babe, man slowly learns t6 walk, to speak, to run, to master language, to enjoy countless new experiences,, to cope with school life, to earn a living, to marry and support a fam-ily. Any one of thesehas practical difficulties of time and energy and personal ability somewhat like those in the spiritual life: Yet by the common experience of mankind, their attainment ih practically cer-~ rain if sufficient time and energy is devoted to the task. As adults we tend to forget the countless milestones we have already passed, and even come to expect no new milestones in the future. Often as adults we cut down on spiritual time and energy, and act in the practical order as if religious experience had been exhausted. If a religious tries to compress thirty hours int6 twenty-four, it is inevitable that he will have to scalp time from his spiritual life to ac-complish this feat. In this regard it would seem that all of us are endowed with a certain native shrewdness of the horse-trading vari- 197 CHARLES A. NASH ety. But little time means little progress. Sometimes we run our spiritual life like a carburetor with too thin a mixture of energy to operate the machine. Life's fast teinpo drains away energy. The more our limited daily energy is channeled to other things, the less remains available for character change or spiritual growth. ~ If there is no time and energy, there is no progress. As we grow older, our ideas of spiritual experience tend to become mote and more .rigid. Spiritual progress is difficult in a rigid mind, like mov, ement in a. straitjacket. Progress demands an open and pliant mifid with the door ever open to wider spiritual experience. Often in order to pro-gress we first have to unstiffen our spiritual ideas and keep them lim-ber. Age is not a true limit to spiritual growth. Remai'ning ever an experiencing being, man normally moves ever forward irma dynamic equilibrium toward an ever greater maturity in God. If the human mind closes to the future, it falls back upon the past. Not age but the man himself puts a stop to progress, by refusing new spiritual ex-perience. The Divine Plan Time, energy, and an open mind docile to the Holy Spirit fit into God's design for human experience on earth. In His divine plan as the Creator of human nature and every human experience, God has an eminently skilful regard for bo~h the strength and the weakness of the earthly pilgrim in his slow daily progress. He assists the slo~v, three-hundred-hour pace by the superior motivation of divine reve-lation, by countless actual graces, by the supernatural virtues of faith, hope, and charity. When only a miracle can be substituted for time, when our very best efforts are always attended by some failure, we catch no small glimmer of the "divinity that shape~ our ends" in the gift of-the three theological virtues. For without hope progress stops; without faith the path grows dim: without love the heart grows faint along the way. But in God's design for religious ex-perience ,the pilgrim is fortified by God Himself. Faith illumines our mind along the road to God; hop~ keeps effort alive and the goal be-fore our eyes; and love is even now a participation of the goal itself while progressing along the way: Divine assistanc~ and a ready w~l-come ever await the pilgrim at every step of his journey. "Come to Me all you that'labor and are heavily burdened and I will refresh you." The lq.ng-run trend of spiritual growth, in God's design, is a quickening triumphal march. ~ 198 The Unseen World Jerom~ Breunig, S.J. THE telescope and microscope have extended our horizons im- | measurably. They have opened up unseen worlds for us. "How mean is earth when I look to heaven," said St. Ignatius one night in Rome more than 400 years ago. Hbw much more mean-ingful this remark is today when the giant eye at Mt. Palomar, California, a 200 inch telescope, helps us penetrate into the sky to the staggering limits of more than one billion light years" and reveals millions of suns like our own moving at the incredible .speed of 500,000 miles, per hour. .~Apart from the findings of the great ob-servatories, even a good telescope on a clear night can reveal wonders hidden to the eye. We can see the pock marks that craters ma~ke on our next ~lo~r neighbor, the moon, which is a scant 238,000 miles fr6m our planet. We. can see the nine moons that cluster about Jupiter, the'ring of light about Saturn, as well as the fiery masses said to be billions of stars. ~The inicroscope opens another unseen world. To the unaided eye what is on the glass slide lo6ks like'a drop of water. Under the microscope we see many protozoa of all kinds. We can see scores of little slipper-shaped animals called paramecia caromin~ about in the water. Perhaps a sluggish, slow-moving amoeba can be sighted or a green euglena of the mastigophora (whip-bearing) family, propel-ling itself by its whiplike tail. After human vision gtopped, the zo-ologist has pushe,d on with his microscdpe to discover 30,000 kinds of protozoa in an unseen world. But there is another world still more 'marvelous and far more important than the worlds that the magnifying glass reveals. It is the unseen world of spiritual realities. Higher visual aid is required to penetrate far into this invisible but real world. We are blind and helpless without the eyes of faith. St. Paul speaks right to the point. "What is faith? It is that which'gives substance to our hopes, which convinces, us of things we cannot see." What are some of the realities in this unseen world? What are some of the "things we cannot see" except with the eyes of fai'th? No one has ever seen a soul at the moment God created it,'when it.left the body, or at any other time. Nor has anyone seen the re-birth of a soul at Baptism when the higher life of grace is infused and the human clay is made immortal diamond, when the bap'tized 199 ,In I JEROME BREUNIG Reoieto for Religious is made a son of God and heir of heaven, when the Three Persons of the Blessed Trinity come and make their home in the soul, trans-forming it into a temple of God. "Blessed are those who have not .seen and have believed." Faith convinces us of things we cannot see. No one has seen a soul red as scarlet washed whiter than snow by the absolution of a priest. Nor has anyone seen the bread of heaven restoring the waning strength of the soul. No one has seen the inexpressible joy of the elect in the mansion,s of heaven, the chastening anguish of the souls in the prison of purgatory, or the black despair of the damned 'in hell. "Blessed are those who have not seen and have believed." Faith convinces us of things we can-not see. Opposition of the Sense-World It is essential to salvation to stay aware of the unseen world but it is not easy. We live in a world of sense. Our very mode of learning is rboted in sense impressions. There is nothing in the mind / that was not first in the senses. Even faith comes by hearing. Our convictions about what we cannot see are constantly being challenged by things we can see. It is a losing battle, naturally. For instance, we will ordinarily be more vividly impressed by paging through a national picture magazine for a few minutes than we will by reading the Imitation of Christ for the same length of time. Unless we con, stan.tly cultivate supra-sensible reality by reading, reflection, and prayer, we will not be able to offset the ever-present attraction of the sensible. We.are also at the m'ercy of our less immediate environment. We are influenced by what we see, hear, feel; and much of this is secular. It is not informed with respect for the sacred unseen realities. There are also abundant examples of godlessness. To claim there are no atheists in foxholes, on the operating tables in our hospitals, among the alumni of our schools; Or ("there but for the grace of God go I") among ex-religious is to close one's eyes to the facts. The lack of respect for God's creative co-operation in h.uman generation is widespread and appalling. There are hardened, blinded men who look on death like the fallen-away who "assured" the hos-pital chaplain: "If I die on the operating table, there will not b'e any-one to take me away." Many non-believers patronize our "naivete" in accepting the sacramental system. A Catholic mayor was openly ridiculed in the public press: "How can he be fit to manage the city goverttment when he is foolish enough to believe a little wafer is his 200 duly, 1953 THE UNSEEN WORLD God." Communists use brutal methods.to eradicate, "to wash away," a sense of the supernatural, but secularism has a smooth ap-proach that sometimes is even more effective in uprooting faith, hope, and charity. The recent ~u.rvey of religion in the United States has produced some startlin~ data. The first report that 99% of the people be-lieved in the existence of G~od was heartening, but the subsequent studies revealed the shallowness of much of this belief. Thd eighth" of the series, "What Americans Think of Heaven and Hell," reported the following statistics in the March number of the Catholic Digest. "Do you think there is any real possibility of your going to.hell? Yes, answered .I 2 %; No, 29 % : Don't know, 17 %; Do not beh.eve in hell, 42 %." In other words, 88 % of those questioned were not greatly concerned with .a truth that Christ underlined clearly, in His teaching. And this is the. environment, through the press, radio, television(?), and a thousand other contacts, we live in. The un-seen world of faith has competition. Witnesses to the Unseen The greatest Witness to the reality of the unseen world was" Christ, God2s Son, who clothed Himself with flesh and blood, a true human nature, worked miracl~s, and founded a ,visible Church to bear witness to the invisible grandeur of divine realities. He invites religious in a special way to continue to bear witness. He has invited them to prove the eternal value of.a better world to a money-mingled, sex-sick, rugged-individual generation by being poor, chaste, and obedieht as He was in the wor'ld. "But if religious are not inhabi-tants of this unseen world they will never impart the irresistible con-viction that the unseen world exists." The recent communication from a Poor Clare (REVIEW, No-vember~ 1952, 312-14) contained the eloquent witness to the un-seen world that is afforded by contemplatives. "There is an unseen world which to her (a Poor Clare) is very real. The incidents of daily lilt'are mere accidentals which are of value so far as they pur-chase for her more perfect union with God. This unseen world is as real to her as the things she can reach out and touch, and touching it she can make every action of hers prayer. I am speaking of prayer,mnot prayers," Until the unseen world is as real to us as the things we can reach out and touch, we will not convey the conviction so badly needed. 201 C. A. HERBST Reuieto for Religious, There is on~ way to make this world that real. It is by living in it. I remember a retreat master's remark on tills point. "You have to have darkness to find a picture on the sensitive plate, and you ha~e to have prayer to bring out the invisible presence of God." Again, it is ' prayer and not prayers that will enable us to live the convictions of our faith. Chari!:y C. A. Herbst, S.J. W~HEN a learned man among the Jews asked Our Lord: "Which is the great commandment in the law?" Christ answered: "Thou shalt love the' Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy whole soul, andwith thy whole mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment." (Mt. 22: 37, 38). This was not new with Christ. It is the burden not only of the New but als0 of the Old Testament. written, as St. Paul says, "with the Spirit 6f the living God.in the fleshly tables of the heart" (II Cot. 3:3). The theological virtues are the greatest of all the virtues. Thdre are three of them: faith, hope, and charity. "And now there remain faith, hope, and charity, these three." Of these three, love of God' for His own sake is the queen: "But the greatest of these is charity" (I Cot. 13:13). Its object is God Himself, and our motive for loving Him,. too, is His own dear Self, "because Thou are all good and worthy of all love." "I call charity that virtue which moves the soul to love God 'for His own sake and oneself and the neighbor for God's ~ake," said St. Augustine. Charity makes all the virtues live. It is the soul even of faith, without which it is impossible to please God. "The life. of the body is the soul. By it the body moves and feels. Even so the life of faith is charity, because it works through charity, as you read in the Apostle: 'faith that worketh by charity' (Gal. 5:6). When charity grows cold, f~ith dies, just as the body does when the soul leaves it." (St. Bernard, Serrn. "2 In Resurr.) "O my God, ,I love Thee above all things." How can I truth-fully say this when I prove many times every day by committing venial sins that I love even tiny creatures more than I love God? Or why is it that I do not cry for love of God wheaa I lqse Him by mor-tal sin but I do cry when I lose my mother by death? Although ¯ 202 drain, 1953 CHARITY these actions seem to be contradicting my words "0 my God, I love Thee above all things," they, really do not. I can weep over my mother's death and commit venial sins and" still love God objectively above all things. That is, I can, and do, go on sincerely and earnest-ly wishing Him the l~reatest good, .that He will continue to be the supreme object of all love and receive divine honors. I can commit venial sins and weep over temporal ld~s and still love God above all things appreciative4 , too. by preferring God with an efficacious will to all created things, by esteeming Him as thehighest good. I can so value and esteem Him ak to be r~eady to lose all else rather than abandon God. We canndt recall too often that true love is in the will, not in the fe~!ings or ~motions. A mother's instinctive and spontaneous feelings and enfotions may draw her to love her child more ir~rensel~, with greater ease, tenderness, and alacrity, than she does God, yet she is ~eady to lose her child rather than offend God seriously. Her love for God is greater and deeper, and influences her soul more p[ofoundly. She loves God objectively and appreciatively more, and intensively and emotionally less. Thihgs of sense appeal more directly and affec-tively than spiritual things do. That in the supreme test, love for God is greater and stronger than any natural love is wonderfully shown in the death of St. Perpetua, martyr. "Neither the tears and oft-repeated prayers of her. aged father, nor the mother-love for the baby boy at her breast, nor the ferocity of her tormentors could move Perpetua from her faith in 3esus Christ." This is brought out, too. by the incidents in the daily lives of the "little people" in Christ's Church' in this living present, so well presented by Father Trese. " 'We've a good pastor,' my.people say --and I am ashamed. Ashamed as I stand beside Katie Connelly at the bed of her just-dead son, and hear her say, 'It's God's will. isn't it, Father?' while she clutches my. hand. Ashamed as I stand beside Ed Fetter at his wife's bier, and hear him say, with three little tykes hanging to his pants-legs, 'If this is what God wants,, we've got to take it, Father.' Ashamed as I ride with the Martins to the Stat~ Hospital where they are taking their son, and hear the mother say, as she bites her lip, 'Well, we've all got to have our cross, Father.' " (Leo Tress, Vessel of Clapt, 24.) Love has various degrees. - In the love of concupiscence there is something of self. I love another because I will get something out of it for myself. This is love of God for my own sake, with selfishness, 203 C. A. HERBST but a very good selfishness. This is the great virtue of hope. Then there is the love of complacency, in which I am glad and rejoice, take pleasure in, another's good, just~ because it ishis good. By it I re-joice in ~the divine perfections~ "Thus approving the good which we see in God, and rejoicing in it, we make the act of l~ve which is called complace-ncy; for we please ourselves in the divine pleasure infinitely more than in our own,' (St. Francis de Sales, Looe of God, V, i). A third and higher'degree of love is~ the love of benevolence, By it we wish another well, want good to come to him. This love we express in the Our Father when we pray: "Hallowed be Thy Name, Thy kingdom ~ome, Thy will be done!" Love consists more in deeds than in words. "If you love me, keep my commandments," Our Lord said (John 14: 15). Every-body knows that "talk is che~p,'° but actions filled with love are purest gold. A fine expression of love is a gift. That is why we give gifts on birthdays and on other joyous occasions. Gifts are the language of love. This is shown most strikingly at Christmas time. It is ~ the . feast of giving, of the Gift. Men give then because God taught them to show love that way. He gave the first Christmas Gift by giving Jesus Christ, His son. "God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten son" (John 3:16). That was Bethlehem. That was Calvary, too. "God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten son." The .lesson ChriSt taught from the crib and from the cross is the same lesson; love in deed, in giving. The soul that loves God cannot miss that. It is convinced that love consists in a mutual exchange of gifts. "What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I do for cnrlst. The answer leaps forth: "Take, O Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding~ and my whole will." One gives oneself whole and entire. We cannot do more. But we can do it more solemnly and more specifically, and we have. Religious surrender to God the goods of the world by the vow of poverty. They surrender to .God the goods of the body and of family, life by the vow of chastity. They surrender to God the goods of the soul, especially that most precious thing, their will, by ~he vow of obedience. "Almighty and Eternal God, I vow to Thee perpetual poverty: chastity, and obedience." This is our answer to the divine challenge: "Thou shalt love'the Lord thy God with thy whole heart, and with thy .whole soul, and with all thy strength, and wi'th all thy mind . This do, and thou shalt live." 204 The Moral Code Cat:holic I-lospit:als Gerald Kelly, S.J. SOME years ago there was a colorful basketball official who used to delight (and sometime~ enrage) spectators by his dramatic way of telling players, "You can't do that[" Again and again his whistle would be heard and he would be seen speeding across the floor, an accusing finger' pointed at some offending player, as his piercing voice insisted," "You can't do that!" ¯ For all too many people, I fear, this officialmminus his pleasing dramatics--might represent the Catholic hospital and its moral code. Engraven in the minds of these people is the picture Of a devoted non- Catholic physician bending over his patient in the operating or de-livery room, yearning to do something to save the patient's life, but frustrated in this salutary design by the Church, which, through the Sister superior or supervisor or chaplain, raises its restraining hand 'and says unsympathetically, "You can't do that!" Certainly much of the publicity given to v~arious events that take place in our hos-pitals caters to this impression. For example, a few years ago, in Brownsville, Texas, a physician who had sterilized a woman in defiance of the hospital code was dis-missed from the staff. The incident received nation-wide publicity in the daily'papers; and the correspondent of one widely-read weekly devoted to it considerable space and ev?n more emotion. The Sisters of Mercy had closed the doors of mercy to the doctor whose only purpose was mercy~ Follow-up letters from doctors, including one from the vice-chief'-of-staff of their hospital, favored the Sisters and showed little sympathy for the expelled physician. Other letters, however, showed marked sympathy for the doctor and for his emo-tional reporter. One letter in particular expressed great !mpatience with this.Church which insists on projecting the taboos .(a favorite epithet for commandments, divine and human) of the Dark Ages into the twentieth-century operating and delivery rooms. In this and similar incidents We have examples of the old prob-lem of misunderstanding.' The critics usually do not understand our hospital code. Even Catholics, I think, seldom realize what goes into a code. In fact, many seem to have the impression that a Cath- 205 GERALD KELLY Review fur Religious olic hospital moral code consists in ond supreme principle (which, incidentally, is "best-seller" nonsense at its best) that mothers must die fortheir babies. These people ought ko have more accurate in-formation, and it seems logical that they might expect to get it from religious because the Catholic hospital, is one of the most distinctive and extensive achievements of our religious institutes. The following paragraphs p~ovide at least the minimum essentials for giving correct information. ~ Why a Code? Since.the administrators of Catholic hospitals are men and women whose lives are consecrated to God, they can conscientiously conduct these hospitals only when they have a reasonable assurance that the law of God will be observed in the treatment of the sick. One way of obtaining this assurance is to formulate the pertinent moral prin-ciples and their applications into a code and to have the staff-members guarantee that they will observe this code. The first reason for having a code, therefore, is to satisfy the conscience of the admin-istrators. This is aptly stated in the introduction to the present code of the Catholic Hospital Association: "Catholic hospitals exist to render medical and spiritual care to the sick. The .patient adequately considered, and inclusive of his spiritual status and his claim to the helps of the Catholic religion, is the primary concern of those entrusted with the management of Catholic hospitals. Trustees and administrators of Catholic hos-pitals understand this responsibility tbwards each patient whom they accept, to be seriously binding in conscience. "A partial statement of this basic obligation is contained in the present Code of Ethical and Religious Directives. All who associate themselves with a Catholic hospital, and particularly the members of the medical and nursing staffs, must understand the moral and reli-gious obligations binding on those responsible for the management and operation of the hospital, and must realize that they are allowed to perform only such acts and to carry out only such procedures as will enable the owners and administrators to fulfill their obligations." What was .lust said might be construed as meaning that the sole or primary purpose for having a moral code is to protect administra-tor~ against doctors who might perform illicit opera.tions in their hospitals. This" is not true. Generally speaking, doctors and nurses, both Catholic and to a large extent the non-Catholics, want clear 206 July, 1953 ~ HOSPITAL CODE guidance in the ethical problems of their profession. And they want it because they are conscious of a need. As members of a. profession ithat deals constantly with life and death, with mutilation of the hu-man body, with expensive and sometimes dangerous remedies, they are faced again and again With acute ethical problems. Yet large numbers of them, even among tl~e Catholics, have never had the op-portunity of taking~a course in medical ethics. Others who have had such a course have grown "rusty" and need some convenient way of refreshing their memories. For all of these a moral code, which con-tains concisely-stated principles and practical applications to the field of medicine, satisfies a definite need. Making a Code What have our Catholi~ hospitals done to provide the needed guidance through a moral code? For many years the hospitals of the United States and Canada used a very brief ~ode which was excellent at the time it was formulated but which became more and mor~ in-adequate as the progress of medicine introduced new problems and threw new light on old ones. A new and more complete code was needed, and many dioceses prepared such a cod~ for their own use. It was not until 1947 that work was begun on a revised code for the Catholic Hospital Association of the United States and Canada. The work done by the committee on this revised code may be of interest., The committee first made a careful examinationof all the recently-composed diocesan codes, selected what seemed the best material from them. and arranged this material plus their own contributions in a manner that seemed best for handy reference. When this was done, a preliminary draft of a new code was sent for criticism to a large number of doctors and moralists in various parts of the United States and Canada. The doctors consulted included both Catholics and non-Catholics. They were chosen for eminence in their profession and not for ~hei~'religion. These consultants, doctors and moralists;: submitted criticisms some of them. very detailed---of the prelim-inary formula. The criticisms were carefully weighed by the com-mittee and a new formula was drafted. , This was referred again to the original critics; more suggestions were offered; and the code was finally formulated in a manner that met"with universal apprbval. This code was publ!shed in 1949 by the Catholic Hospital Associa-tion of the United States arid Cahada, and it is used today in most o'f the dioceses of these two countries. Some dioceses which had gone~ 207 GERALD KELLY Review [ur Religious to great trouble to prepak-e their own codes still use these in preference to the revised code of the C~tholic Hospital Association. Two observations are in place here in order to ~0revent misunder-standings. First, there is a question pertinent to revising a code: does this mean that morM principles change, or, as some people would put it, does it mean that the Church has changed its moral ~tandards? Obviously, the revision of a hospital code should have no such im-plications. Moral principles do not change: and, from the stand-point of ~principles, the only'reasons for revising an approved code might be to include some principle not beret0fore included, or to ex-press more clearly and simply one of the principles already included. But the application of moral principles to medicine can change be-cause this application depends on the medical facts, which can change with the progress of.science. For example, there was a time when the only way of successfully treating certain infections was' by surgical operation, but tod~ay many of these infections can be arrested by the use of recently-discovered drugs. A fact like this can be the basis for declaring that an operation which was permissible several years ago because necessary for the patient's welfare is no longer permissible. This is but one example of how the application of principles to con-crete cases can change. The revision of a code is largely concerned with these concrete cases. A second observation concerns ~he fact that different codes are fol-lowed in various dioceses. Does this mean that what is morally good in one place is immoral in another? Again the answer is in the nega-tive. The differences in the codes concern neither the moral prin-ciples nor the licitness of specific operations and treatments. They concern rather the selection and arrangement of materi.al, with per-haps the addition of some purely disciplinary regulation .which may be thought necessary in one place but not in another: for example, on the need of consultation before some operation is allowed. Content of Code .: At this point, if not before, someone might well ask just wh~it, is a code, and what goes into it. I can best answer this question by're-ferring specifically to the revised code of the Cat.holic Hospital As-sociation, which is entitled Ethical and Religious .Directives/~or Cath-oti~ Hospitals. As the title implies, this code contains two sections. The second section contains directives of a religious nature which concern the reception and administration of the ~acraments and the 208 dulg, 1953 HOSPITAL CODE reverent disposal of.amputated members and immature babies. For the most part, this sectibn of the code would directly concern only Catholics or those who wish to become Catholics. The first section contains ethical directives, that is, principles of the natural law with applications to medicine. Since the natural law binds all men, the provisions of this section apply to all patients, doctors, nurses, and other hospital personnel, regardless of their religion. This is really the moral code of our hospitals. My subsequent remarks app.ly to this section. Basic Principles The,baslc moral principles which are ~ formulated and applied in ¯ our ethical directive~ can be reduced to these six: (a) the .need of the / patient's consent; (b) the inviolability of innocent human life: the intrinsic.evil 'of contraceptive practices: (d) the principle~.of the "double effect"; (e) the principle of "liberty" and (f) the principle of "totality." Perhaps a few words about each of these principles will .be informative without being unduly soporific. ~) The patient's consent. Each individual human being has bqth ~the right and the duty to care for his health. When a doctor treats a patient, he is simply exercising the patient's own right of self-preservation for him, and he may not perform even legitimate operations without the consent of the patient.,. This Consent may be' given explicitly, as would be the case if an operation would be ex-plained to the patient and he ~would then agree to it. Or it may.be implicit, as would be the case if the patient asl~ed for a cure, with the understanding that he is.willingto Submit to all the necessary pro-ce. dures, even without .explanation. Or it may be reasonabtg pre-sumed, as is the case when a doctor gives emergency treatment to an unconscious man. Sound morality requires consent in one of these forms and l~oth civil law and medical associations recognize ~his. For infants and others who are incapable of acting rationally, the parents or guardians have the right to give the consent., b) The inviolabilitg of innocent human life. The meaning bf this principle is strongly and clearly explained in a memorable pas-sage of our present Holy Father's Allocution on the moral problems of married life (October 29, 195 I). This.passage Should be f~imiliar, not 0nly to religigus in hospital work, but to educators as well. "Now the.child, ~ven the unborn child," said the Pope, "is a hu-man being, a human being in .the same degree and by ~he same title as 209 ,,It GERALD KELLY Review for Religious is its mother. Moreover, every human being, even the child¯ in its mother's womb, receives its right to life directly from God, not frdm its parents, nor from any human society or authority. Therefore there is no man, no human authority, no science, no 'indication,,' whether medical, eugenical, social, economic/or moral, that can show or give a valid juridical title for a deliberate and direct disposing of an innocent human life, that is to say, for an action which aims at its destruction, whether such destruction be intended as an end or as a means towards some other end which may "itself be in no way illicit. So, for example, to save the life of the mother is a most noble end, but the direct killing of the cl~ild as a means to that end is not law-ful. The direct destruction of the 'so-called 'valueless life,' whether born or unborn, which was practised a few years ago in numerous in-stances, can in no way be justified. And therefore when this i~ractice began the Church formally declared that it is contrary to the natural law and to the positive law of God, and consequently" illicit--even under instruction from the public authority to kill those who, al: though innocent, are nevertheless by reason of some physical or-ps3;- chical taint useless to the nation and even become a burden on the ¯ community. The life of an innocent human being is inviolable, .and any direct assault or. attack on it violates one of those fundamental laws without which it is impossible for human beings to live safely in society. We have no need to teach you the particular significance of this fundamental law and its bearing upon your profession. But do not forget it: above any human law, above any 'indication' whatso-ever, there stands the indefectible law¯ of God." The Pope's words are obviously directed against doctbrs and others who think that in certain situations there are good reasons (they call them "indications") for the direct killing of an unborn child. Against these men he defends the right of the child. But he does not limit his words to the child; he defends all innocent human life. The direct (i.e., the intentional) taking of such life is never permissible. Any procedure which'would result in death for either the mother or the child (or for any other innocent person) can be justi-fied only when the death is an unintended and unavoidable by-product of the procedure. Incidentally, this principle of the inviola-bility of human life also condemns the so-called mercy-~killing (the taking of a patient's life to relieve him of suffering), whether it is done with or without the patient's consent. c) The intrinsic evil of contraception. The Church, especially in 210 July, 1953 HOSPITAL CODE the oi~cial t~aching,of the two last Popes, has'constantly branded artificial birth control as contrary to the law of nature, and therefore intrinsically evil. The most ~adical form of this evil is direct steri-lization, which means the intentional destruction of the procreative power. Doctors have many ways of accomplishing this, and all of of them.are forbidden by our code. .d) The principle oF the "'double effect.'" Students of ethics are familiar with this principle and know that it contains the solution to many of the practical,~problems of life. Conscientious people often use it without knowing it exists. The aviator who bombs an im-portant military target, foreseeing but not desiring the deaths of some civilians, is perhaps unwittingly using this principle. The student who must read a treatise on sex, foreseeing but not wanting tempta-tions against chastity, is using perhaps also unwittingly the p~inciple of the double effect. And all of us. whether we realize it or not, are following this same principle when we perform some good and neces-sary action, realizing that, despite our best intentions, certain others will misunderstand and will be'led to rash judgments and to criti-cism. The deaths of the civilians, the sexual temptations, and the harsh thoughts and criticism, are all simply unavoidable and un-wanted by-products of actions that are good in themselves and of sufficient importance to be performed despite the evil effects that at-company them. The principle of the double effect has many applications in medicine, especially as regards surgical operations on diseased repro-ductive organs with the unavoidable destruction of the procreative power and as regards treatment of a pregnant mother with some un-intentional but unavoidable risk either to herself or to her child. This last point was clearly explained by. Pope Plus XII in his Allodution to the "Family Front" (November 26, 1951): "On purpose," he said, "We have always used the expression "direct attempt on the life of an innocent person,' "direct killing.' Be-cause if, for example,-the saving of the life of the future mother, in-dependently of her pregnant state, should urgently require a surgical act or other therapeutic treatment which would~have as an accessory consequence, in no way desired or intended but inevitable, the death of the fetus, such an act could no longer be called a direct attempt on innocent life. Under these conditions the operation can be licit, like other similar medical interventions, granted always that a good of high worth is concerned, such as life, and that it is not possible to 211 GERALD KELLY Review fur Religious postpone the operation until after the birth of the child, or to 'have recourse to other efficacious remedies." e) The principle of ."libertt.t." Physicians do. not always see eye-to-eye on the value of certain treatments or operations. For ex-a.~ ple, take the much-discussed and too-much-popularized operation called Idbotomy. Thisoperation consists essentially in severing cer-tain fibers in the brain, and its general purpose seems to be to reduce emotional tension and thus help in the cure of some mental illnesses and in relieving otherwise unbearable pain. The sharpest kind of con-troversy exists among reputable physicians as to the good produced by the operation, the risks it involves, the types of patients that might benefit from it, and so forth. And this is but one example of many decidedly controversial questions in the sphere of medicine: Theologians, too, have their differences of opinion; and this is especially true when they are faced with a new problem. "There are pros and cons to many of these problems, and it may take a long time before the issues are sufficiently clarified to have a ffnanimous opinion for either side or until the teaching authority of the Church inter-venes to settle the matter. Sound morality supplies this practical principle that may be fol-lowed in these legitimately debated matters: obligations (i.e., pre-cepts and prohibitions) are not to be imposed unless they are certain. This is what I mean by the principle of "liberty." For the doctor, this means that, with the consent of the patient, he and his consult-ants may follow what they sincerely judge to be the proper medical procedure as long as this procedure is not certainly wrong. I f) The principle of "totality." I have taken this woful from Pope Pius XII, who said in his address on the moral limits of medical research a~ad treatment (September 14, 1952): "By virtue of the principle of totality, by virtue of his right to use the services of his organism as a whole, the patient can allow individual parts to be destroyed or mutilated when and to the extent~necessary for the good of his being as a whole." Obviously, this is an extremely important principle in medi'cal practice. Every time a doctor, acting according to the principles of sound medicine, and with the consent of his pa-tient, removes an eye, a hand, a gall-bladder, etc., he is following this principle of totality. He removes the member, which is a part of the whole, because it has become in some way.a threat to the survival or the well-being of the whole. 212 Jul~, 1953 HOSPITAL CODE Conclusion The foregoing are. the main, if not the only, principle~ that form the core of an~] sound medico-moral code. Perhaps I have giventhem too much space: yet it seems to me that one really appreciates our hos-pital codes only when he sees these basic principles grouped together and briefly explained. It may be taken for granted that an~ doctor who conscientiously follows these principles will act, not ~nly ac-cording to sound morality, but also according to sound medicine. Earlier in this article I suggested that in the minds of many people the supreme moral principle of Catholic hospitals seems to be that mothers must die for their babies. This, as I said, is best-seller non-sense at its best, and perhaps I should have said at its worst. Implicit in this attitude is the idea that in a critical situation a Catholic mother must always prefer her baby's life to her own. The idea is erroneous. Obviously, no mother may allow the direct taking of her life in order to save her baby, because, as Plus XlI declared, the direct destruction of any innocent life is morally wrong. And even a~ regards the risking of her life, e.g., by submitting to a dangerous operation, for thd sake of her baby, we must be very careful about making universal state-ments. We would have to consider many concrete factors before we could decide whether such a risk is obligatory or even permissible. Closely related to this erroneous notion that in our hospitals mothers must die for their babies is the idea that, since Catholic hos-pitals do not permit thereapeutic abortion (a "gentle" expression for the practice of killing babies to "save" mothers), they lose more mothers than do other hospitals. Not only is there no statistical basis for this, but what statistics we have indicate the very opposite. /~or example, two Boston doctors, Roy J. Heffernan and William "A. Lynch, recently obtained information about maternal deaths from 171 hospitals in various paris of our country. This information covers a period of eleven years, 1940-1950. In these hospitals, during this long period, there were more than ~hree million deliveries, about evenly di~iided, between hospitals that permit therapeutic abortions and hospitals that exclude this practice. The maternal death rate in the hospitals that do not allow therapeutic abortions was .87 .per thousand deli~ceries, whereas in the hospitals that do allow therapeu-tic abortion the maternal death rate was .98 per .thousand deliverles. According to these and similar statistics', the keeping of God's law saves not only babies but their mothers, as well. This is a too-littld-known aspect of the apostolate of Catholic hospitals. 213 .ues!: ons and AnSwers ~18m What can be done to counteract some Iong-sfandincj practlce, s en-gaged in during time of retreat by Sister-retreatants, for example, re-hearslng daily for one or two hours the Mass and hymns to be used ,for the reception ceremony; embroidering and crocheting between conferences2 The Sisters who participate in these works find that it interferes with thei~ recollection. ¯ Some work ab.out the house, some choir practice, and other little jobs (like needlework) would not seem to interfere ,too much with retreat recollection if indulged in only for about aft hour or so a day. That would still allow the retreatants a fair amount of time for un-disturbed private reflection an~l personal duties. If, however, the re-treat schedule were already extraordinarily crowded (which is usually not the case), there might be little time left for such tasks as indi-cated in our question. In any case, it is important that retreatants h~ve a fair amount of leisure time for private reflection, for jotting down. spirittlal "lights," for additional rest, and the like. ml9m At times it is necessary to post items pertinent to religious' in various departments of an establishment in regard to keeping rooms in order, having greater care of furniture, and the like. Would it not further a bet-ter ~om;nunity spirit if such directions were posted in the community room rather than on the doors of the different departments where outsiders may read them and make comments? Yes, it would be better to post items of a personal or private na-ture, whether they pertain to the community as a whole or to indi-vidual members of the community, in some place reserved to the reli-gious family .in preference to other more or less public places. Thus criticism might be lessened. It is possible, :though, that sometimes superiors ihtend such notices not merely nor primarily for religious who are in charge of or are working in a department, but especially for the outside help. Then such notices would be posted where those for whom they a~e intended would see them. In these cases, however, care should be taken that the wording of the notice does not occasion criticism of the religious. 214 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS In a religious congregation (in which simple vows are taken) may a ~ell-glous who is subiect fo a provincial superior have a right of appeal to the superior general when the religlous wants a farad or extra permission? To begin with, religious have the right of communicating with higher superio.rs: such correspondence is sealed. Religidus could. therefore, ask for various permissions from higher superiors. Some extraordinary permissions are usually asked of higher superiors ra~ber than of the immediate superior. Ordinary permissions, however, as a general rule are to be sought from the immediate superior. If that superior refuses the permission, one should not request the same per-mission from a higher superior without informing him that the per-mission was refused by the lower superior." Good government dic-tates that procedure, as ~ell as courtesy ahd possibly the rules of the institute. Before asking for any extra permissions or "favors," religious should remember .that superiors are to help their subjects observe common life; hence superior~ may not readily grant extra permission.s to a subject unless the Circumstances of the case warrant it. Likewise superiors must then be willing, and able, to grant the same permission to any other, subject in the same circuhastances. Subjects should try to lighten° the superior's burden' of of~ce by not requesting permis-sions which superiors should not grant either because they are not consonant with religious life, or because they would violate or harm common life, or because of some other good reason. Besides being a violation of common life, "favoritism" in a community is always odious. The cause of our Venerable Founder has been in progress at Rome for thirty years. In order to help Stimulate popular devotion to our Founderu particularly among ou~ students and their parents--our Order is in the habit of prlntlng, from time to time pictures and devotional pamphlets about him. Up to now. printed matter of that type only bore the nlhll obsfaf of the ordinary of the diocese where our motherhouse is located. It was brough~t to our attention lately that we need the approbation of the Holy See ~or an~ printed material about our Fo, under who has been de-clared Venerable. Is that observation correct? Canon 1387, of the, Code of Canon Law states that what per-tains in any way to the causes of beatification and canonization of 215. QUESTIONS ~ND ~NSWERS Servants of God may not be published without the permission of the Sacred Congregation of Rites. @his restriction applies only~to causes which are pending before the Sacred. Congregation; not to those which are finished (person b~s been canonized), or are pending be-fore some other body "than the Sacred'Congregation of Rites. During the time permission must be obtained from the Sacred Congregation, no further permission of the local ordinary is necessary for publica-tion of matter approved by the Sacred Congregation. The Codex pro Postulatoribus Causarum Beatiffcationis et Can-onizationis i4th edition, 1929, page 26, nos. 21 and 22) repeats the abo~ce and includes pictures (imagines) under the provision of can-on 1387. Several author~ who comment on canon. 1387 say that it seems to refer only t6 documents and. acts connected with the prosecution of th~ cause, such as summaries and proofs proposed for furthering the cause, opinions of consultors; comments of. the prornotor tidei, and the like. These authors rely on a Monitum of the Sacred Congrega-tion of Rites of February 12, 1909, which required previous' permis-sion of the Sacred Congregation for the publication of accounts,of the llfe, virtues, and "wonders" of Servants of God. Consequently it seems probable that the devotional pamphlets and pictures mentioned in our question need not be submitted to the Sacred Congregation for approval. m22-., Postulants are being sent out to the missions to hel'p with the teaching in schools*. They return to the motherhouse fop the week-ends. Are supe-riors justified in extending the postulancy for,three or four months, because the number of novices to be 'professed is not sufficient to fill the places of Fhe postulants? The Normae of 1901 (which have been used as a model for the constitgtions of rehgzous ,congregations) allowed a period of pos-tulancy ranging between gik--and twelve months. They permitted the superior general f~ a ~just cause to prolong the postulancy up to three additional months i~ particular cases (n. 65). A just cause was considered to exist if superiors remained uncertain about the vocation of the candidate, about his qualifications Or defects, or about his ad, justment to the life of the institute. ¯ The Code of Canon Law speaks of a postulancy of at least six entire months which must. be made by all women in religious insti- 216 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS tutes with perpetual vows and by the lay brothers in the.institutes of men. It permits the major superior ,to prolong the postulancy, but not beyond another six months (canon 539). This may be done in particular cases. The purpose of the prolongation is again to allow superiors more time to size up the applicant's vocation and more pre-cisely. his aptitude or fitnes~ for their religious institute. In the light of the above, it is rather difficult to see how superiors wbuld be justified in extending the postulancy for three or four months in the case under consideration. It might be well to add that the Apostolic Delegate has special .faculties to shorten or prolong the postulancy pre~scribed by the Code of Canon Law. Relatives of a relig;ous send money to a mutual friend with the under-standing that the religious will let that friend knowwhat he wants the friend to buy for him on the occasion of his blrfhday, Christmas, Easter, and the like. Is such procedure in keeping with poverty, or would the religious be considered as having a reserved fund of money? In the final .analysis the practice outlined' in the question reduces itself to a private fund of money at the disposal of the religious, a form of peculium generally contrary t~o the poverty professed by most. religious institutes, At best, this is contrary to cohamon life and the spirit of povert, y. A religious who countenanced such a practice could very well profit from reading Father Gallen's excellent article on "The Spirit of Poverty'" (REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, VIII .[1949], 35-43), not to me.ntion various other articles on common life arid the vow of poverty. As a practical solution, the religious could advise his relatives, who wish to give him a present, to send the money.to 'him rather than to the mutual friend. It would be understood that the reli-gious will turn in the money to his superiors to be added to the com-munity funds; then, when the religious needs something, the superior will provide it from the community funds. In that way both the vow and the spirit of poverty, as well as commott life, will be safe-guarded. A Sister acts as organist for the children's choir and for the adult choir during Mass and other services. Does canon law forbid this? A similar questi6n about a Sister organist was answered in the 217 Review ?or Religious BOOK REVIEWS pages of this REVIEW, VIII (1949), 325. Attention was called to possible diocesan regulations on the matter, even though the Code of Canon Law says nothing about it. In genera~ it seems that there would riot be much objection to a Sister acting as organist for a chil-dren's choir. In case of reai need this might also be stretched to in-clude an adult Choir of women only. But for a mixed adult choir:. "In practice,no Sister should undertake to play the organ for amixed choir of men and women without the express permission of the local ordinary and of her ownhigher superior" ibid.). / Book Reviews .~IRACLES. By Jean Hell~. Translated by Lancelot CL Sheppard. Pp. v~ -h. 288. David McKa¥ (~omp~ny, Inc., New York, 1952. $3.~0. This work is not a philosophical or tbeo16gical treatise on mir-acle. s. Rather, by a fairly detailed historical presentation of selec.ted cases, it is designed to give the reader a fairly general knowledge of, them. It is "a synthesis, or more modestly perhaps, an attempt at a synthesis" (p. 14). The whole story is built around persons, and l~eferably persons Who are not very remote from us in time. The language is not technical, but adapted to all intelligent readers. ,, The first chapter is an account of "miracles of humility": it: pre-sents the "stories of the Cur{ .of ~Ars and of Bernadette Soubi~ous; Then there follows, "Fatima, or the Age of Mary." Therese Neu-mann does not measure up to the author's standards and require-ments. But--surprisingly enough--"Catberine Emmerich, 'Narra, tot' of .the Gospels" and her writir~gs touched up by Clement Bren-tano meet with his full approval. The apparitions at Beauraing, BelgiUm, 1932-1933, are judged t6 be "childish fiction.'" Neverthe~ less' this is one of the few among recent cases that have received epis-copal approbatton. A particularly interesting feature of th~s book is the final chapter: "imitators and Fakers of Miracles." By contrast it serves especially well to bring out the great differences that obtain be-tween, genuine supernatural signs and others that are ~fraudulent, and how the pretended marvelous can be detected and distinguished from whaTt his~ a wuthhoelnet iwc.ork emphasizes the prudent reserve and critical spirb of the Church toward whatever is proposed as surpassing the limiv 218 duly, 1953 BOOK REVIEWS of nature, and tends to,bring about in the mind of the reader a simi-lar wise attitude.---AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD. ., A LIFE OF CHRIST. By Aloys Dirksen, C.PP.S. Dryden Press, New York, 1952. Pp. 340. $3.75. This book is unique in two respects: first, it has the '.'split-p~ge format." that is to say, in the upper part we find the Confraternity text of' the Gospels, and entirely separated from this section, a com-mentary on the Gospel text. One can turn the pages of the upper section without disturbing those below. Secondly, the Commentary and its Introduction are models of intelligent compression. Eight introd_uctory chapters furnish,,~i background for a better understanding of the actual commentary. These include a brief dis-cussion of the sources for a life of Christ, an outline of the geography of Palestine, a survey of the l~revious history of the Jews. the politi-cal and social conditions and prevalent religious beliefs of the period when our Lord was onearth. Such a comprehensive introduction can treat these matters only in barest outline, and if a few inaccuracies have crept in, this can readily be excused. The commentary, too, is suggestive rather thar~ exhaustive: but it is usually very much to the point. The ordinary reader will find there what he wants to know about the Gospel text he is reading. At the end of the commentary, by way of appendix, is a list of messi-anic prophecies found in the-Old Testainent. and of the Old Testa-ment quotations found in the four Gospels. Since the author uses many tec

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

The American Civil War is one of the defining events in American history. Abundant studies cover every aspect of the conflict, from strategic analysis to the material culture of uniforms. Even with thousands of academic studies, each adding a new interpretation, there remains still unexplored territory. This study's objective is to expand upon and connect these previous interpretations to produce another tier in understanding a specific chapter of the war. The question posed centers on not the Confederate strengths but the Federal weaknesses. Research shows how the failure and limitations of Union strategy, policy, and the inability to logistically sustain massive offensives opened the way for the Confederacy to capitalize on, and turn the tide of the war. Furthermore, how did the Confederate strategies both militarily and politically have the greatest success and influence on the Kentucky and Maryland Campaigns and the overall outcome of the war? ; Master of Arts in Military History ; Capstone Autumn 1862 The High Tide of the Confederacy Colin E. Zimmerman A paper submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Master of Arts in Military History Norwich University MH562 Capstone Paper Dr. Wesley Moody 23-August-2020. 2 Thesis: The American Civil War is one of the defining events in American history. Abundant studies cover every aspect of the conflict, from strategic analysis to the material culture of uniforms. Even with thousands of academic studies, each adding a new interpretation, there remains still unexplored territory. This study's objective is to expand upon and connect these previous interpretations to produce another tier in understanding a specific chapter of the war. The question posed centers on not the Confederate strengths but the Federal weaknesses. Research shows how the failure and limitations of Union strategy, policy, and the inability to logistically sustain massive offensives opened the way for the Confederacy to capitalize on, and turn the tide of the war. Furthermore, how did the Confederate strategies both militarily and politically have the greatest success and influence on the Kentucky and Maryland Campaigns and the overall outcome of the war? It will be necessary to answer this question through a multilayered approach. Instead of viewing the Kentucky and Maryland campaigns on the tactical level, which has already consumed most of the historiography on the topic, this study will instead find an explanation to this question through political, logistical, organizational, leadership personalities, and economic components and how they dictated the overall strategic picture and framework. When synthesizing all these components together, one potential answer generates: the grand Confederate offensive in the autumn of 1862, a direct result of botched Federal strategic measures and limitations, divided political policies, and the Union's struggling logistical capabilities; indicated the high tide of the Confederacy. Through battlefield victories and seizing the initiative in direct and indirect courses, Confederate leadership allowed the Southern field armies to exploit the Federal weaknesses culminating in the Kentucky and Maryland campaigns. 3 These campaigns offered the Confederacy its only realistic chance of ending the war on political and strategic terms that favored the South. An examination of each specific component and its relation to the Confederate high tide's theory is therefore essential to back this new interpretation. Political Factors of the North, South, and Europe; and its Benefit to the Confederacy in 1862: All wars, especially civil wars, are political in their foundation, influence, and execution. In "On War," Carl von Clausewitz states that "the political object, as the original motive of the War, will be the standard for determining both the aim of the military force and the amount of effort to be made." 1 This axiom applies to events in the autumn of 1862 since political factors dominated the motivation of strategy. The Confederacy's legitimacy resided within its field armies continued existence. Their ability to gain military victories that supported both the strategic and political realms was the essential component that needed to be sustained if the South was to remain independent. The North was in a completely different predicament, as the rival political factions, Republican's and Democrat's, each with its own opinion on the objective goals and the conduct of the war, could not in the early phase of the war come to common ground as to what the specific nature, cause, plan, and purpose of the Civil War was. The North was a nation at war without complete unification of mind, and purpose, which presented a weakness that could ultimately undo its efforts. Complicating matters for President Abraham Lincoln, and his party's agenda, was the fact the Northern Democratic party held just over 45% of the popular vote of free and border states in the 1860 election. 2 In short, the President and his administration existed only in a 1 Carl von Clausewitz, On War, Translated by Colonel J.J. Graham. New York, NY: Barnes & Noble, 2004. 10. 2 James McPherson, Battle Cry of Freedom: The Civil War Era, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988. 506. 4 narrow margin and needed to conduct the war in a way suitable to keep the two very different mindsets exhibited by both the Republicans and Democrats in agreement. The Kentucky and Maryland campaigns occurred while changing Republican ideas on the persecution of the war and mid-term congressional elections, which proved to be a significant juncture in Northern and foreign politics. To be sure, the summer and fall of 1862 were extremely delicate times for Lincoln and the Republicans, and they could not afford any negative setbacks. Lacking any precedent to draw on, the Lincoln Administration delicately approached the rebellion by seeking the destruction of Confederate armies and exempting the Southern population from the burdens of war by respecting the civilians' constitutional rights and property. Historian Mark Grimsley captured the conviction of the policy by pointing out that the Lincoln administration renounced any intention of attacking slavery; and the government's assumption that most white Southerners were lukewarm about secession, and if handled with forbearance, would withdraw their allegiance from the Confederacy once Union armies entered their midst. 3 This policy known as conciliation, therefore, served as the beat to which Union forces marched off to war. Not all Northern generals and radical Republicans embraced this; however, the policy served as the first step in an evolutionary process that would eventually culminate in "hard-war." The effects of conciliation created favorable conditions for the Confederacy from which they were able to exploit the "limited war" shortcomings of the Union and surge forward into the fall offensive and their high tide. These shortcomings manifest in several different forms: leadership, strategic limitation, and foreign and domestic political pressure. Unfortunately for the 3 Mark Grimsley, The Hard Hand of War: Union Military Policy toward Southern Civilians, 1861-1865. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. 3. 5 Union, the combination of these factors exposed themselves in a negative light nearly all simultaneously, creating a perfect opportunity for the Confederates to take advantage of the drawbacks and pursue victory. Fueling the fire was the Lincoln Administration's policy regarding the appointment of military governors in captured territory. The issue arose when these cities, such as Nashville, were turned into massive supply centers for Union armies, resulting in intense rivalries between city and country, neighboring communities, and whites and blacks as they competed for jobs and dominance. 4 Henry Halleck, George McClellan, Don Carlos Buell, the key leaders of the Federal armies in 1862, generated the most immediate consequences stemming from the shortcomings of conciliation from as these three adherents to firm Democratic principles and military strategy are most responsible for creating the opportunity for a Confederate offensive. Generals Halleck, McClellan, and Buell are often portrayed by historians as lacking the "killer instinct," especially when compared to Ulysses S. Grant, William T. Sherman, and Phil Sheridan. However, a more accurate analysis finds them as men who followed the conciliation policy almost to the letter for political, personal, or logistical reasons. Halleck himself wrote the Elements of Military Art and Science, where he harped on the capture of strategic points, incurring the least number of casualties and damage as possible as the primary strategy of winning a war. Ironically, Halleck, the most influential Union general in 1862, believed that warfare was unjustifiable in most cases and should only be conducted with the utmost caution. 5 As General in Chief, Halleck had a significant influence on the conduct of operations of the Union forces. Each of these three 4 Grimsley, The Hard Hand of War, 35-36; Scott Nelson and Carol Sheriff, A People of War: Civilians and Soldiers in America's Civil War, New York: Oxford University Press, 2007. 88. The reference to negative leadership refers to the actions of Nathaniel Lyon and Francis Blair; who introduced "harsh" measures in 1861 prematurely which led to a brutal guerilla war and other political ramifications. 5 Henry Wagner Halleck, Elements of Military Art and Science: Course of Instruction in Strategy, Fortification, Tactics of Battle, Embracing the Duties of Staff, Infantry, Cavalry, Artillery, and Engineers, Adapted to the Use of Volunteers and Militia, Third Edition, New York: D. Appleton & Company, 1862. 7-9. 6 commanders prescribed to similar variants of Halleck's theory, whose universal core value of caution above all else acted as the catalyst to create the conditions for the Confederacy to crest in the fall of 1862. While the reigns of military success were in McClellan's and Buell's hands during the Maryland and Kentucky campaigns; Halleck made two major errors in 1862 that are directly responsible for igniting the Confederate offensives. The first was his overabundance of caution in taking Corinth, allowing the Confederates to slip away and then failing to retain the initiative by pushing to Vicksburg while simultaneously failing to capture Chattanooga. The second major failure was his inability to harness his granted power and force McClellan to speedily and effectively send his army to the aid of John Pope, eliminating any opportunity for a combined assault on Lee's smaller army. 6 The Democratic principles these generals prescribed to differed in many respects from Lincoln and the Republican agenda on the idea of the war. Each strongly believed in the preservation of the Union yet favored winning the war by the least drastic measures, the least number of casualties, and on a platform acceptable to their Democratic party beliefs. 7 For instance, McClellan wrote Buell, upon the latter's elevation to command of the Army of the Ohio: "bear in mind that we are fighting only to preserve the integrity of the Union and to uphold the power of General Government….be careful so to treat the unarmed inhabitants as to contract, not widen, the breach existing between us & the rebels." 8 Additionally, Generals Pope, Grant, and Rosecrans, who likely weren't as politically polarized as the former three, contributed to the growing political dissension in 1862 in their own right. Therefore, by their actions, federal military leadership did more to subvert the Union military from ending the war quickly and 6 Russel F. Weigley, A Great Civil War: A Military and Political History, 1861-1865, Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 2000. 135-136. It is arguable whether or not the Army of the Potomac could have arrived in its entirety rapidly enough to join with Pope. However, personal and in-house political agendas did not move the efficiency along any faster. 7 Weigley, A Great Civil War, xix-xxi. 8 Grimsley, 64. 7 dividing political tension based on faction theology more than any other public figures in 1862. One of the more notable incidents that fit into the framework of subversion was Grant's debacle at Shiloh, which brought strong opposition from anti-war Democrats, causing cautious leaders such as Halleck and McClellan to tighten their grip and fear repeat attacks. Most detrimental in this respect was the administration's and Halleck's decision to temporarily bench Grant during the Corinth episode, then subsequently leaving him in a position where he could not act with his usual aggressiveness against Stirling Price and Earl Van Dorn. Before his removal as General in Chief, George McClellan wrote Halleck then in charge of western forces, "The future success of our cause demands that proceedings such as Grant's should at once be checked. Generals must observe discipline as well as private soldiers. Do not hesitate to arrest him at once if the good of service requires it, & place CF Smith in command." 9 Grant's "recklessness" at Shiloh created quite the stir on the home front, which as a result, political rivals of the Lincoln Administration, sought to break down Grant as a way to spread discontent and fit the anti-war platform. They harped on the high number of casualties, the surprise of the Confederate attack, and the black eye to the seemingly unstoppable Union war machine. The backlash reached Washington, prompting a response from the Administration. In a telegram to Halleck, Secretary of War Stanton wrote, "The President desires to know why you have made no official report to this department respecting the late battles of Pittsburg landing. And whether any neglect or misconduct of General Grant or any other officer contributed to the sad casualties that befell our forces on Sunday." 10 The battle of Shiloh became the first political debacle that militarily opened the door for the Confederacy to take the offensive in the fall of 1862. 9 Nancy Scott Anderson and Dwight Anderson, The Generals: Ulysses. S. Grant and Robert E. Lee, Avenel: New Jersey, 1987. 230. 10 Anderson, The Generals, 241. 8 The most immediate politically charged consequence materialized in Halleck's handling of the advance on Corinth, which exemplified his standard cautiousness with added paranoia of avoiding another repeat of Shiloh. 11 The delicate politically charged caution continued even after the successful capture of Corinth in Halleck's decision to send Buell, over Pope or Grant to seize Chattanooga. Halleck's snail-like cautious advance on Corinth, and the decision to send Buell to Chattanooga, allowed the disorganized Confederate army to withdraw from Corinth, establish a new commander in the form of Braxton Bragg, who in turn brought reorganization, discipline, and professionalization to the Army of Mississippi; which proved to be the genesis of Bragg and Smith having the ability to advance into Tennessee and Kentucky. 12 Military shortcomings turned political disasters in the Eastern Theater during the summer of 1862, soon overshadowed Shiloh, and added dramatic momentum and opportunity to the rise of the Confederate high tide in the war's primary theater. McClellan and his Army of the Potomac, having suffered political harassment in late 1861 into the spring of 1862, began their downward political spiral with the Army of the Potomac's loss of initiative and strategic defeat during the Seven Days Battles on the Peninsula. The setbacks along the James River coupled with the black eye at Shiloh, and the defeat of Federal forces in the Shenandoah Valley in the spring of 1862 had devastating political effects, which left the North and European powers believing that all hope for the Union resided with McClellan and his Army of the Potomac. The proximity of the Union and Confederate capitals made the Eastern theater a hot spot for journalists and policymakers on both sides, who saw the region as the deciding factor in the Civil War's outcome. This army's setback at the gates of Richmond did more to influence how events 11 Larry J. Daniel, Days of Glory: The Army of the Cumberland, 1861-1865, Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2006. 85. 12 Thomas Lawrence Connelly, Army of the Heartland: The Army of Tennessee, 1861-1862, Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2001. 188-194. 9 unfolded in the east in 1862 in both the strategic and political sense, both foreign and domestic. 13 The shortcomings on the Peninsula stymied the Union's hope to quickly end the war while making the voices of "Peace Democrats" louder and the political situation even more delicate. As if the Lincoln Administration did not already have enough burdens, both England and France, whose neutrality was necessary for the Union war effort, began to openly question the North's ability to subdue the South and end the rebellion. 14 Stonewall Jackson's brilliant campaign in the Valley, coupled with the Army of Northern Virginia's ferocious performance on the Peninsula elevated Southern patriotism, and simultaneously dampened Northern morale, convincing many on both sides that Southern victory was achievable. 15 Colonel Charles Marshall, Lee's Assistant Adjutant General believed that Robert E. Lee's emergence onto the scene was the greatest benefit to the Southern cause. He equated Lee's leadership on the Peninsula to that of a color bearer bravely advancing his banner towards the enemy. On political matters Marshall correctly believed that the Northern people were impatient for a speedy victory and that the Federal Government expressed this sentiment in its policy on conducting the war. However, this policy was forcefully and forever altered with the aggressive Lee's emergence onto the scene, whose plan called for carrying on the war indefinitely until the Confederacy achieved victory. Marshall outlined this plan as designed to, "frustrate the enemy's designs; to break up campaigns undertaken with vast expense and with confident assurance of success; to impress upon the minds of Northern people the conviction that they must prepare for a protracted struggle, great sacrifices of life and treasure, with the possibility that all might at last be of no 13 Stephen W. Sears, To the Gates of Richmond: The Peninsula Campaign, New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1992. 355. 14 McPherson, Battle Cry of Freedom, 554-555. 15 Peter Cozzens, Shenandoah 1862: Stonewall Jackson's Valley Campaign, Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2008. 507-508. 10 avail; and to accomplish this at the smallest cost to the Confederacy." 16 This leadership change at such a critical moment proved to be the dawn of turning Confederate fortunes in the east. Public opinion and political reactions to the Union failure on the Peninsula were mixed; however, strong opposition towards McClellan emerged and created discord among the rival Democrats and Republicans, each of whom found outlets to accuse the other of the responsibility of the campaign's failure. 17 Amid this political turmoil, Lincoln, in an effort to offset the discord introduced Major General John Pope, who only managed to escalate political dissension to a fever pitch with his disastrous Northern Virginia campaign. 18 In the Western Theater, the emergence of Braxton Bragg also came at a critical juncture in juxtaposition with the events occurring in the east. Bragg took command of the Army of Mississippi at one of its darkest hours, and through exemplary organizational skills, reshaped the Army of Mississippi into a professional, disciplined force capable of delivering a lethal blow. With such a force, Bragg was able to look to more risky opportunities that would offset the Union strategic gains in the west and regain Tennessee and perhaps set the stage for Kentucky.19 Private Sam Watkins of the 1st Tennessee recorded the positive change in morale from the melancholy atmosphere at Corinth to when new lifeblood in the army emerged. "We were in an ecstasy akin to heaven. We were happy; the troops were jubilant; our manhood blood pulsated more warmly; our patriotism was awakened; our pride was renewed and stood ready for any emergency; we felt that one Southern man could whip twenty Yankees. All was lovely and 16 Charles Marshall, Lees Aide-De-Camp: Being the Papers of Colonel Charles Marshall Sometime Aide-De-Camp, Military Secretary, and Assistant Adjutant General on the Staff of Robert E. Lee, 1862-1865, Edited by Gary W. Gallagher, and Frederick Maurice, Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2000. 74. 17 Sears, To the Gates of Richmond, 346-347. 18 John J. Hennessy, Return to Bull Run: The Battle and Campaign of Second Manassas. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1999. 468-472. 19 Earl J. Hess, Banners to the Breeze: the Kentucky Campaign, Corinth, and Stones River, Lincoln, Neb.: University of Nebraska Press, 2010. 19-22. 11 the goose hung high." 20 Although the Confederates had suffered initial setbacks early in 1862, the advantages afforded by conciliation, cautious Federal leadership, and the emergence of Lee and Bragg allowed for a reversal of fortunes. In 1862 Southern patriotism was running high; the idea of independence and the Confederate soldier's superiority was at its wartime peak. 21 Lee's decision to invade Maryland was political in nature. Maryland Campaign historians, Joseph Harsh, Scot Hartwig, Stephen Sears, James Murfin, and Ezra Carman while differing on strategic matters, all agree that Lee's primary purpose was to secure a decisive victory which would gain the South the political victory; either in the form of Northern domestic politics or international recognition and or intervention. The application of political pressure to Lee's offensive outweighs all the deficiencies faced by his army in the logistical realm, and further illustrated his grasp on the delicacy of Northern political division. Clearly, he understood this division and had faith that his smaller, ill-supplied force had a chance to deliver a blow that would fracture the Northern populace and produce an outcome that favored the South. General Lee suggested his understanding of such matters in a letter to President Jefferson Davis while in Dranesville on September 3. "The present seems to be the most propitious time since the commencement of the war for the Confederate Army to enter Maryland.….if it is ever desired to give material aid to Maryland and afford her and opportunity of throwing off the oppression to which she is now subject, this would seem the most favorable." 22 The domestic and foreign political objectives acting as primary motives for the "invasion," were in that instant equal to the strategic goals which accompanied them when 20 Samuel R. Watkins, Company Aytch or A Side Show of the Big Show: A Memoir of the Civil War. Edited by Ruth Hill Fulton McAllister. Nashville, TN: Turner, 2011. 45. 21 Joseph T. Glatthaar, General Lee's Army: From Victory to Collapse, New York: Free Press, 2008. 207; James Longstreet, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War, Edited by Ned Bradford. New York: The Fairfax Press, 1979. 263. 22 United States War Department, The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies. Vol. 19. Washington: Govt. Print. Off., 1880. 590. 12 defining the military value of the campaign; this is a unique feature to the Maryland Campaign and its condition for victory, while only a secondary task in Kentucky. In contrast historian Edwin Coddington paints a different picture for Lee's purposes in the Pennsylvania Campaign of 1863. Coddington outlined that Lee, in this part of the war, contended with the new Federal doctrine of "hard war" and emancipation, eliminating the decisive battle matched with the political advantage that existed in 1862. Therefore, Lee's only real option was to defeat the Army of the Potomac in detail, earning a strategic victory rather than a political one. 23 Such a task required adequate logistics, and a complete and total battlefield victory, two factors that eluded the Confederacy during the war. Such victory conditions presented to Lee in 1862 were unique and would never materialize again in any substantial form. Political division in the North was at fever pitch in the late summer of 1862; evidence of the discord's depth is apparent in everything from personal letters through Northern news outlets. Robert E. Lee, an avid reader of Northern papers, understood this notion and sought to exploit it. Domestically, Northern Democrats maintained a loud voice in critical regions and states, which only grew more robust and more resilient with each military shortcoming and failure. August and early September saw a heightened level of panic and discouragement in the North, with Pope's defeat and Lee's invasion of Maryland, while at the same time Kirby Smith's Confederate Army of Kentucky demonstrated against Cincinnati. Pennsylvania was understandably the most unnerved due to its proximity to Maryland and vital war infrastructure, and its Republican governor Andrew Curtin's demand for 80,000 troops to defend his state embodied it. Additionally, the mayors of the influential northern cities of Harrisburg, Philadelphia, and 23 Edwin B. Coddington, The Gettysburg Campaign: A Study in Command, New York: Simon and Schuster. 1968. 6-7. 13 Baltimore were alarmed, fearing their respective city was the target of Lee's advancing legions.24 In Cincinnati, the situation turned somewhat drastic. After destroying the Union forces at Richmond, Kentucky on August 30, Kirby Smith as a result had a clear road to the Ohio River. Understandably Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio all worried what Smith's next move would be while they scrambled to organize bodies of troops. General Lew Wallace arrived in Cincinnati, declared martial law and quickly set about organizing a defense. 25 With panic to the extremity of declaring martial law, the Northern population began to question their ability to win the war openly. Prominent figures such as George Templeton Strong, Samuel Galloway, Reverend Robert Laird Collier, and Senator Garrett Davis, spoke not only for themselves but also for the majority of the people by openly challenging President Lincoln and his administration on their ability to conduct the war. The accusations included Lincoln's unfitness for the Presidency, the constant change of military leadership in the east, which showed instability and was severely hurting morale in the North. Demands also arose that there be a complete reorganization of the Administration. 26 The Lincoln Administration's threat of a draft, unless an additional 300,000 volunteers could be raised created further tension. The idea of a draft disgusted many Northerners; however, with "patriotic" spirit enticed by bounties, nine-month service, and the threat of draft, the ranks of new regiments began to fill in late summer of 1862, only hitting forty-five percent of the intended quota. 27 The Union soldiers themselves cast a gloomy mood over the situation and expressed their views with varying levels of disgust. Lieutenant Elisha Hunt Rhodes of the 2nd 24 David H. Donald, Lincoln, New York, NY: Touchstone, 1996. 373. 25 Vernon L. Volpe, "Dispute Every Inch of Ground": Major General Lew Wallace Commands Cincinnati, September 1862." Indiana Magazine of History 85, no. 2 (1989): 139. 26 Donald, Lincoln, 373. 27 McPherson, Battle Cry of Freedom, 492. 14 Rhode Island expressed in his diary that: "I fear we are no nearer the end of the war than we were when we first landed at Fortress Monroe five months ago." 28 Captain Francis Donaldson of the 118th Pennsylvania captured the mood in Washington: "We are constant witness of the sad plight of the Army of the Potomac, as thousands of Genl. Pope's troops in great demoralization are ever passing the Fort in retreat to Washington. The poor old Army of the Potomac, how I pity it." 29 Captain Henry Pearson of the 6th New Hampshire also expressed his views in the aftermath of Second Manassas: "You need not be surprised if success falls to the rebels with astonishing rapidity." 30 Brigadier General Marsena Patrick's opinion bordered on insurrection: "There is a general feeling that the Southern Confederacy will be recognized & that they deserve recognition." 31 Lieutenant Charles Seton Fleming of the 2nd Florida Infantry, in a letter home to his mother describing the aftermath of the Second Manassas campaign, echoed Patrick's views when he wrote: "Our victory is complete, even the Yankee prisoners acknowledge it." 32 Lieutenant Colonel Henry Hubbell of the 3rd New York wrote in August 1862: "I am not sure that it would not be a good thing to have the rebels get possession of Washington however, as it might waken up the north to the fact that we are having a war in earnest, and not merely playing soldier…. We have got men & means enough in the north to put an end to this war in 90 days, if they would only go at it in earnest and let politics & the nigger alone." 33 28 Elisha Hunt Rhodes, All for the Union: A History of the 2nd Rhode Island Volunteer Infantry in the War of the Great Rebellion. Edited by Robert Hunt Rhodes. Lincoln, RI: A. Mowbray, 1985. 69. 29 Francis Adams Donaldson, Inside the Army of the Potomac: The Civil War Experience of Captain Francis Adams Donaldson. Edited by J. Gregory Acken. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 1998. 104. 30 D. Scott Hartwig, To Antietam Creek: the Maryland Campaign of September 1862. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2019. 134-135. 31 Ibid., 134-135. 32 Francis P. Fleming, A Memoir of Captain C. Seton Fleming: of the Second Florida Infantry, C.S.A., Reprint 1985: Jacksonville: Times-Union Publishing House, 1884. 66. 33 Simon P. Newman, "A Democrat in Lincoln's Army: The Civil War Letters of Henry P. Hubbell." The Princeton University Library Chronicle 50, no. 2 (1989): 155-68. 157. 15 Hubbell eluded to the growing discord of racial issues that many Democrats saw as an unnecessary and politically charged motive to a war that was supposed to be strictly for preserving the Union. Nevertheless, this issue began to transform the cause of the war in the summer of 1862, adding only more weight to a very delicate political situation. Hubbell's feelings weren't isolated; instead, the sense that the war was taking on a new front to end slavery infuriated many Northerners. Hubbell's views on racial matters and slavery were not limited to himself, in fact, the stiffest opposition to war that had anything to do with freeing slaves came from the Midwest states; where racism was an epidemic culturally, especially in the Army of the Ohio. The talk of national emancipation led hundreds of men to desert and, in some cases, join the Confederacy. 34 Sentiments similar to these echoed across the Union armies and, undoubtedly, were shared by family and friends on the home front. Some individuals turned bitter, and perhaps extreme, which reflected political, ideological, and sectional differences in the North, which under the pressure of a seemingly collapsing system reared its ugly head. The term "invasion" has been used several times thus far, especially by the Union's most publicized general, George McClellan. This term and others related to it divided the minds of many of those who had significant power to dictate the war. Abraham Lincoln, at no point, recognized the Confederacy as a legitimate entity. He always maintained that the Southern States were in rebellion and needed to be brought back into the Union. Interestingly, his senior generals in 1862, mostly Democrats, saw the Confederate offensives as invasions, insinuating their conscious or subconscious recognition that Confederate armies were "foreign invaders" intent on doing harm, which helped fuel the panic, frustration, and seemingly lost Union cause ideology. 35 34 Daniel, Days of Glory, 101. 35 Andrew Pooley, "Shoo-ing the Geese: Lincoln and the Army of the Potomac, 1862-1863." Australian Journal of American Studies 21, no.2 (2002): 86-100. 86-87. 16 Jefferson Davis, the Confederate cabinet, Robert E. Lee, Braxton Bragg, and all the other high-ranking Confederate officers comprehended the growing Northern political disunion. This is evident in the decision to approve a Confederate offensive and the string of strategic goals associated with it. The Army of Northern Virginia, for example, fulfilled its duty of defeating the Federals time and again, completely reversing the tide of the war in the east. As Robert E. Lee sat at his headquarters in the aftermath of Chantilly, it had become abundantly clear that he now possessed the opportunity to strike the decisive blow against whatever Union army would oppose him in Maryland or Pennsylvania, which would likely result in some sort of peace talks. 36 Lieutenant Colonel Edward Porter Alexander Chief of Ordnance in the Army of Northern Virginia saw the picture as clear as Lee. Referring to the army, we wrote: "His [Lee's] army had, that magnificent morale which made them equal to twice their numbers, & which they never lost even to the surrender at Appomattox. And his confidence in them, & theirs in him, were so equal that no man can yet say which was greatest. And no old soldier need ask a prouder record than is implied in that fact. By going into Maryland Gen. Lee could at least subsist his army for a while upon the enemy, & he doubtless hoped, too, for a chance to force the Federal army to come out & fight him under favorable conditions." 37 Confederate officer William Allan, reverberated Alexander's sentiments when he wrote of the Army of Northern Virginia: "its spirit at this time was high. A series of brilliant successes had given it unbounded confidence in itself and its leaders, and the ragged dirty soldiers hailed with joy the advance across the Potomac." 38 The comparison of the Federal and Confederate views as indicated from primary sources, on 36 Hartwig, To Antietam Creek, 52-53. 37 Edward Porter Alexander, Fighting for the Confederacy: The Personal Recollections of General Edward Porter Alexander. Edited by Gary W. Gallagher, United States: The University of North Carolina Press, 2000. 139. 38 William Allan, The Army of Northern Virginia in 1862, Reprint: Middletown: DE, 2020. 273. 17 leadership and the progress of the war at the beginning of the Maryland Campaign were clearly in favor of the South. The leadership of Don Carlos Buell is a prime example of political dissatisfaction, both on the home front and in the army. While McClellan was unpopular with the Administration, he still held favor with most of his officers, and certainly the rank and file of the army and the nation. Buell, however, faced contention on three similar fronts – The Indiana bloc, the general and field officers of the First Division, and the supporters of Alexander McCook, one of his corps commanders. Much of the disgust with Buell occurred during the Kentucky Campaign. This break in unified efforts favored the Confederate cause, particularly in swaying popular opinion in Kentucky. Republican Indiana newspapers ripped into Buell's leadership, declaring that he was completely mishandling the pursuit of two Confederate armies that were ripping up Kentucky and potentially heading towards Indiana, Ohio, or Illinois. Some newspapers called for his immediate dismissal, and a few even demanded he be shot. 39 When comparing Lee and his army to Buell and his, there formulates a fascinating dissection of the polar extremes in popular and political opinion. Lee and his men were on the top of their game, while Buell's forces were at a low ebb. Using these two examples as the basis of measurement, it becomes apparent that overall, the Confederate forces enjoyed a much higher sense of public support and favorability then their Union counterparts did at that particular moment in the war. Scholars have hotly debated the prospect of European powers, particularly England and France intervening and mediating an end to the conflict. The idea of such a prospect was undoubtedly the primary goal for the Confederate strategy in the autumn of 1862. It is essential to view the idea of European intervention in the simplest of forms. The Southern strategy partly 39 Daniel, 128-129. 18 hinged on it, as can be observed via strategic decisions and public opinion, the North, however, feared the prospect. Intervention and mediation on any level would, in the end, be more beneficial to the South, and the Lincoln Administration would appear as incapable; in short, it would be a disaster for the North and Republicans. 40 The onset of a "cotton famine" and the scandal of the Trent affair occurred amid all the politically charged events in 1862, resulting in the British sending an additional 11,000 men to Canada and forcing Lincoln to tread lightly in foreign political matters. 41 Historian Max Beloff believed that the possibility of British intervention was extremely likely in 1862, mainly due to the North's refusal to make anti-slavery sentiments the basis of their cause, instead still focusing on the preservation of the Union, which only supported the pro-Southern faction in Parliament. 42 An examination of Southern newspapers and other editorials, shows public opinion in the South at the beginning of the war was universal in the belief that Great Britain would be forced, through the power of cotton, to intervene either by raising the blockade or by recognizing the Confederate States as an independent nation or perhaps both. 43 Regardless of the likelihood of actual intervention or recognition, the idea of it greatly influenced Confederate leaders, particularly Lee, who notated such objective goals in his correspondence with Davis. Davis agreed outlining his desires in a communication to Lee on September 7. He reminded Lee that the Confederacy was waging war solely for self-defense. Through the eight points he outlined as the guiding principles for the field armies to abide by, Davis continually revolved his doctrine around political objectives whose chief purpose were to achieve peace with the United States. If the South maintained a self- 40 McPherson, 444. 41 Nelson, A People at War, 166. 42 Max Beloff, "Historical Revision No. CXVIII: Great Britain and the American Civil War." History, New Series, 37, no. 129, (1952): 40-48. 42. 43 Schuyler Dean Hoslett, "The Richmond Daily Press on British Intervention in the Civil War: A Brief Summary." The William and Mary Quarterly 20, no. 1 (1940): 79-83. 80. 19 defense posture, with the objective of peace through battlefield victory; then the likelihood of positive European intervention on their behalf had a much higher probability, which in turn could possibly bring a speedy end to the war with terms that favored the Confederacy. 44 Logistical Concerns and Organizational Components: While the South always lagged behind the North in terms of finance, economy, manufacturing, manpower, and many other logistical concerns, the disparity was narrower in 1862 than in the coming years. As a point of contention, several trends and circumstances in the Union war effort benefited the South more than it aided the Union on the grand stage. Concerning logistics, Clausewitz's maxim states: "The dependence on the base increases in intensity and extent with the size of the Army, which is easy to understand. An Army is like a tree. From the ground out of which it grows it draws it's nourishment; if it is small it can easily be transplanted, but this becomes more difficult as it increases in size….When therefore, we talk of the influence of the base on the operations of an Army, the dimensions of the Army must always serve as the scale by which to measure the magnitude of that influence." 45 This axiom is precisely the predicament of the Northern war effort in the first two years of the war. The logistical portion of this study will examine the condition and availability of uniforms and equipment, quality of weaponry then in circulation, training and experience of soldiers, and finally the ability of each government to produce and supply its troops effectively. A logistical understanding is crucial for understanding the obstacles and conditions faced by the armies and how it dictated their effectiveness on campaign and immediate tactical ability on the battlefield in 1862. The South, as previously stated from the very beginning of the war, was behind its 44 OR, vol 19, 1: 598-599. 45 Clausewitz, On War, 353-354. 20 opponent in logistical matters; however, the North in 1862 was not at the climax in its ability of production and supply, and therefore lacked significantly in certain areas. However, it is essential to note that the limitations of the Federal logistical system by the fall of 1862 were only a few months shy of efficiently supplying the vast number of troops in the field. The first evidence of a marked change in the Union's logistical ability emerged in the Chancellorsville Campaign's genesis, after the winter of 1862-63. 46 Accepting the notion that the Confederate armies were in rough shape logistically; it is important to note that the primary leadership in the field was acutely aware of the shortages. However, the unfolding opportunity demanded a military strike that outweighed logistical concerns. Therefore, an examination into the Federal system's shortcomings is necessary to show the benefits it offered toward the Confederacy. The United States Army in the Antebellum period contained roughly 15,000 men of all arms. Compared with an army of 600,000 men in 1862, it is understandable that there would be significant shortcomings and hurdles to overcome in a nation that, as a rule, did not trust professional armies nor want to foot the bill for one. Nevertheless, the North had a clear advantage when it came to industrialization and manufacturing. Over one million Northerners worked in industrial jobs, ten times more than their Southern counterparts. Furthermore, the North contained roughly 100,000 factories compared to the South's 20,000. 47 Yet, as already pointed out, the prewar army was tiny and supplied with uniforms and equipment solely from the Schuylkill Arsenal in Philadelphia. Additionally, the arsenals producing firearms were limited, with all those existing in the South subsequently seized upon secession, having fewer firearms available to Northern regiments. 48 The North, therefore, would have to raise and equip an army 46 Stephen Sears, Chancellorsville, New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1996. 71-75 47 Matthew S. Muehlbauer and David J. Ulbrich, Ways of War: American Military History from the Colonial Era to the Twenty-First Century. New York: Routledge, 2018. 174-175. 48 Joseph E. Chance, The Second Texas Infantry, From Shiloh to Vicksburg, Austin: Eakin Press, 1984. 16, 24. 21 primarily with outdated weapons and with an industrial system that wasn't geared toward war manufacturing. The North's only saving grace was its economic might. 49 Economically it is crucial to understand that the Union that won the war in 1865, was not the same financial institution nor economy in 1861 and 1862. It was in major part due to the Legal Tender Act of 1862 and the National Currency Act of 1863, that the North was able to pay for the sustainment of the war; yet it took time for these acts to take effect. Therefore, in 1862 financially, the North was undoubtedly at its weakest; many of the state and municipal banks, especially those in border states, had closed their doors, while millions of businesses and private civilians hoarded gold. 50 The Union was only able to field the armies it did in 1861-1862 because of its ability to pay for the conversion and development of machinery needed for equipment, weaponry, and uniforms while relying initially on its prewar militia. Faced with arming a massive army overnight, the United States was forced to arm many of its regiments with outdated firearms, such as the M-1842 Smoothbore musket, and the M-1816 Flintlocks that were converted to percussion, in addition to supplementing itself with foreign weapons, from Britain, Belgium, France, Austria, and others. These weapons except those from Britain, proved to be severely outdated compared to the technology available in the 1860s. The importance of recognizing the sub-standard firearms is their effectiveness on the battlefield and the potentiality of changing the outcome in a crucial moment in a battle. In an era of the rifled musket that was accurate from 250-300 yards, a typical smoothbore musket ranged from 80-100 yards. A significant portion of Federal troops were armed with outdated weapons in the Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns. A focus on any of the principal engagements in that time frame will show that regiments armed 49 McPherson, 442-445. 50 Nelson, 132-133. 22 with such weapons were in certain circumstances ineffective on the immediate tactical plane, and perhaps beneficial to their adversary. The disparity of weapons had begun to improve for the North in 1862; however, the infusion of nearly 300,000 volunteers during the summer of 1862 created a logistical gap once again. Many of the existing regiments in the army still shouldered outdated weapons, and now with legions of new men forming, these troops found themselves supplied with weapons that were unequal to the rigors of Civil War combat. Of this second wave of new recruits, the 12th New Jersey Volunteers serve as an excellent microcosm to examine the Union's logistical deficiencies in the rush to arm new recruits in 1862. Initially, the Jerseymen expected to receive the celebrated Enfield rifle; instead, they ended up with the inferior Austrian Lorenz, which was later exchanged in Washington for the equally outdated 1842 Springfield musket, although they saw this as an improvement over the detested Austrian rifle. 51 While every regiment's experience is different, the new wave and veterans alike in 1862 experienced some level of logistical deficiency that impacted their abelites on campaign or in battle. Aside from weapons, much of the equipment in the Army of the Potomac and the Army of the Ohio at the beginning of the Confederate offensives were at the end of its serviceable life span, due to months of active campaigning, and the inability to properly re-muster the army on a large scale because of the continuity of Confederate aggressiveness, which certainly affected their performance as a cohesive fighting force. Brigadier General Abner Doubleday who commanded a brigade at Second Manassas submitted requisitions to replace equipment and clothing just before the onset of the Maryland Campaign, noted in disgust: "owing to the great number [of other officers] making requisitions, mine were not filled and we were soon obliged to 51 Edward G. Longacre, To Gettysburg and Beyond: The Twelfth New Jersey Volunteer Infantry, II Corps, Army of the Potomac, 1862-1865, Hightstown: Longstreet House, 1988. 24. 23 take the field deficient in everything." 52 This sentiment was backed up by Captain James Wren of the IX Corps, who wrote that the men in his division "looked very bad, being Lousey, Dirty & Almost naked & worn out." 53 The soldiers in the Army of the Ohio were in equally if not worse shape. The vast distances covered by the Western Theater's armies created long supply lines, which fell victim to frequent raids from rebel cavalry. T.J. Wright of the 8th Kentucky Infantry noted in his diary that the Army of the Ohio was: "the hungriest, raggedest, tiredest, dirtiest, lousiest and sleepiest set of men the hardships of this or any other war ever produced." 54 While it is certain that the Confederates were in equally bad situations logistically, they had the benefit victory behind them in the east, and in Bragg's army's case, high morale. Another major struggle for the Federals in 1862 was the ability to get the supplies to its armies. The reason is not one specific aspect, but rather a compilation of bureaucracy, corruption, and lack of precedent to draw off. McClellan's army on the Peninsula had to be supplied from the sea, Pope in command of the Army of Virginia never took the time to ensure his troops had everything they needed, and Buell's army along with the rest of the western forces contended with long supply lines originating in Cairo Illinois, that were frequently raided by Confederate cavalry. The 16th Maine Infantry is a classic example of the suffering that occurred in a system that was outside its capabilities in 1862. The regiment's adjutant and historian Abner Small wrote: "How those men suffered! Hunger, daily felt, was nothing compared with it. Men of education, of refinement, and wealth, who willingly and cheerfully gave up home, with all its love and comfort, for country, made to feel degraded for want of clothing!" Small then describes 52 Hartwig, 137. 53 Ibid., 137. 54 Kenneth W. Noe, Perryville: This Grand Havoc of Battle. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2011. 89. 24 the horrendous conditions: "…without shelter, without overcoats, shoeless, hatless, and hundreds without blankets; and through all that long, sad, and weary tramp, we were jeered at, insulted, and called the "Blanket Brigade!" 55 While examples like this are on the extreme, the narrative fits when assessing the entire logistical picture of the Army of the Potomac in September 1862. The term logistics also dovetails into organizational tables. Aside from sharing similar shortcomings in the area of supply and outdated weaponry, Lee's Army of Northern Virginia was by far the superior force in leadership, experience, and organization when compared with McClellan's force. By September 2, 1862, nearly 61 percent of Lee's infantry had fought in three or more major battles, and 81 percent fought in two or more. All of his 184 infantry regiments were veterans of at least one battle. Not only were Lee's regiments superior in this regard, but his brigade commanders were highly efficient as well. Twenty-seven of Lee's forty brigades were veterans of two or more major battles, while the remaining thirteen had fought in either the Seven Days or Second Manassas. On the divisional level, the highest official level of organization at that point for the A.N.V.; all of the eleven divisions had seen at least one battle. 56 The Union leadership backed this notion up as well. It was widely accepted, and a point still argued amongst historians, that the Southern fighting man was superior. This mythology has far back as the American Revolution corroboration has its roots in early Confederate victories, particularly at First and Second Manassas, the Shenandoah Valley, and the Seven Days battles. These victories generated an aura of invincibility around the Army of Northern Virginia that transcended into the minds of the Federal troops. 57 In fact Lee, true to form was in the first days of September 1862, the living epithet of Baron De Jomini's maxims, "the general should do 55 Abner Ralph Small, The Sixteenth Maine Regiment in the War of the Rebellion, 1861-1865. London: Forgotten Books, 2015. 38. 56 Joseph L. Harsh, Taken at the Flood Robert E. Lee and Confederate Strategy in the Maryland Campaign of 1862. Ashland: The Kent State University Press, 2013. 39-40 57 Pooley, "Shoo-ing the Geese", 88. 25 everything to electrify his own soldiers, and to impart to them the same enthusiasm which he endeavors to repress his adversaries….in general, a cherished cause, and a general who inspires the confidence by previous success, are powerful means of electrifying an army and conducing to victory." 58 In contrast, McClellan's forces reformed into the Army of the Potomac, could not boast anything near the statistics of the Army of Northern Virginia could. September 1862 was the most disorganized and weakest the Army of the Potomac would find itself in the duration of the war. This school of thought canceled out, at least temporarily, any deficiencies faced by Lee's forces. When George B. McClellan rode out of Washington to take command, he found three very different organizations, each with its own command, divisional, brigade, artillery, cavalry, transportation, and quartermaster structures. Additionally, the newly formed regiments, many of whom were only a few weeks old, were rushed to the front and infused into the disorganized mess. Organizing these separate organizations into one effective command would weeks if not months, McClellan would be forced to do it in a matter of days, while in motion, in addition to planning a short-term strategy to deal with Lee. 59 The chaos of the reorganization is apparent in the 5th New York Volunteers' experience. Historian Brian Pohanka related an instance of the 5th as they passed McClellan on the march toward western Maryland: "As they marched, General McClellan reined up beside the troops of Warren's brigade. 'Well, and how is the Old Fifth this evening?' he asked. 'First rate, General, but we'd be better off if we weren't living so much on supposition." 60 Even though he had the bigger force, the disorganization and confusion associated with the rapidity of the Maryland Campaign denied the general his army's full might 58 Baron De Jomini, The Art of War, Translated by Capt. G.H. Mendell, and Lieut. W.P. Craighill, Radford: Wilder Publications, 2008. 30-31. 59 Hartwig, 133-136. 60 Brian C. Pohanka, Vortex of Hell: History of the 5th New York Volunteer Infantry. Lynchburg, VA: Schroeder Publications, 2012. 369. 26 on the battlefield. In different circumstances these obstacles may have been overcome had McClellan had time to prepare. Robert E. Lee sensed his enemy's weakness and used it as part of his foundation to seek permission from President Davis to invade Maryland. "The two grand armies of the United States that have been operating in Virginia, though now united, are much weakened and demoralized. Their new levies, of which I understand 60,000 men have already been posted in Washington, are not yet organized, and will take some time to prepare for the field." 61 Lee identified that his logistical situation was terrible, however, he recognized the unfolding opportunity in front of him. "The army is not properly equipped for an invasion of an enemy's territory. It lacks much of the material of war, is feeble in transportation, the animals being much reduced, and the men are poorly provided with clothes, and in thousands of instances are destitute of shoes. Still, we cannot not afford to be idle, and though weaker than our opponents in men and military equipment's, must endeavor to harass if we cannot destroy them. I am aware that the movement is attended with much risk, yet I do not consider success impossible, and shall endeavor to guard it from loss." 62 The amount of stock Lee put into the Federals logistical organization is apparent. In fact, if taken as a whole, his reliance on the overall Federal weakness is one of his only justifications for his ill-supplied and smaller force to go on the offensive. Additionally, these logistical matters, both of his own and the Federal weakness, coincide directly with Lee's desire to deliver a decisive blow to the Federals quickly. There was not a better opportunity to do it and expect fruitful results, then while the Army of Potomac was at its weakest moment, structurally, organizationally, numerically, and logistically. 61 OR, vol 19, 1: 590-591. 62 Ibid., 590-591. 27 Lee's conclusion of the ill-preparedness of the new Union regiments applies not only to the troops in his sector but also to those in the Western Theater. Much like Lee's army within reach of Washington, Kirby Smith's small army in Kentucky created a panic and proved Lee's theory on the reliability of new soldiers. Kirby Smith successfully and thoroughly destroyed an equally sized Federal force of raw recruits at Richmond, Kentucky, on August 30, 1862, eliminating them from the military equation. Historian Kenneth Noe termed the battle of Richmond as "the most lopsided Confederate victory of the war, as Kirby Smith's men inflicted casualties so staggering that entire Union brigades ceased to exist." 63 With Smith's incursion into Kentucky, a vacuum of chaos erupted in the region, in particular, Ohio. The microcosm of Cincinnati infuses both the political and the serious logistical problems faced by the North in 1862. Historian Vernon Volpe pointed out, "Although the influx of [Union] volunteers was inspiring, with it came a shortage of arms, ammunition, and other equipment needed to outfit the troops properly." 64 This example was echoed across the entire Kentucky region in 1862. Although McClellan's army outnumbered Lee with a total of roughly 87,000 men, twenty percent of his infantry were raw, having been in the army just a handful of weeks and had not even come close to mastering the level of proficiency needed in drill and tactics to be effective on a Civil War battlefield. 65 Even though the Federals were able to put fresh regiments into the field, it became an issue of quantity versus quality. The unfortunate story of the 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers is a classic case in point of these raw troops' ineffectiveness. Arriving to the Army of the Potomac just a few days before the battle of Antietam, the men prepared to enter their first engagement on September 19 at Shepherdstown. Their regimental historian 63 Noe, Perryville, 39. 64 Volpe, "Dispute Every Inch of Ground", 146. 65 Hartwig, 139. 28 wrote: "The teachings of the battalion-drill near Sharpsburg on the previous day [September 18] now had practical application." The 118th's Colonel stated in his official report that: "We returned their fire as fast as possible, but soon found that our Enfield rifles were so defective that quite one-fourth of them would not explode the caps." 66 The 118th's story, while extreme is not unique, another raw Federal regiment the 128th Pennsylvania found itself in an even worse circumstance, owing to its lack of training. The 128th Pennsylvania arrived at the army just days before as well and were assigned to the newly organized XII Corps, which itself contained some of the highest proportions of raw troops. During the battle of Antietam, the new regiment found itself in Miller's Cornfield and due lack of basic drill unable to maneuver itself back onto its brigade in the face of onrushing Confederates. Officers and sergeants from experienced neighboring outfits were sent to try and move the bewildered regiment all to no avail. In the end, the 128th was left to its fate and was nearly destroyed, having no effect on the enemy and only weakening their own brigades' position. 67 Stories similar in nature can be found across the Army of the Potomac on every sector of each battlefield during the Maryland Campaign, each in the midst of their own mishaps allowing the Confederates a level of superiority while hindering their supporting elements an opportunity to exploit any gains. Don Carlos Buell's Army of the Ohio experienced similar circumstances with green regiments as its eastern counterpart. In a letter to Kirby Smith, Bragg detailed his understanding that Buell's men were in rough shape and utterly demoralized. These circumstances, Bragg believed, offered the South a greater benefit of success. 68 The raw, ill-trained, ill-equipped, and completely unprepared 105th Ohio, 123rd Illinois, and 21st Wisconsin infantry regiments were 66 Survivors' Association 118th (Corn Exchange) Regt., P.V., History of the Corn Exchange Regiment 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers,62. 67 Stephen W. Sears, Landscape Turned Red. New York: Ticknor & Fields, 1994. 206. 68 United States War Department, The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies. Vol. 16: Part 2. Correspondence, Washington: Govt. Print. Off., 1880. 754. 29 all glaring examples of this shortcoming. The 123rd Illinois found itself in a similar predicament as the 128th Pennsylvania at Antietam, exposed and on its own, and fell victim to veteran Confederate troops bearing down on them. The 105th Ohio, equally as green, found itself thrown into the breach in the midst of the 123rd Illinois collapse. Private Ayre of the 105th remarked: "…could not form into a proper line and after going through several maneuvers in order to do so we became mixed and confused." In similar fashion to the 123rd Illinois, the 105th Ohio was quickly stampeded by their Confederate attackers. 69 Much like the inferiority of outdated weapons, untrained, raw troops could not perform to a tactically sufficient level to keep par with the rapid pace and constantly changing conditions of a Civil War battlefield. While plenty of experienced units did exist in the Union armies, it is clear the inexperienced ones created more problems, affording the Confederate forces golden opportunities to exploit immediate tactical advantages they likely would not have had, had they been fighting experienced, or even trained troops. On the other side of the coin, the copious amounts of raw units severely hampered any notion gaining a decisive victory or rapidly following up a pursuit. This is evident in the in the results of Antietam and Perryville, both of which were Confederate tactical victories, and the speed at which Lee and Bragg's armies were pursued. The armies' organization is important when looking to understand the advantages and disadvantages and how this affected a particular side's likelihood of victory. The experience level and the amount of subpar weaponry in both the armies of the Potomac and Ohio was only one issue, their organizational structure in both leadership and how its units were grouped confounded their problems and offered the Confederates another edge over their opponent pushing the scale further in favor in the equation of obtaining a victory. As previously stated, the 69 Stuart W. Sanders, Maney's Confederate Brigade at the Battle of Perryville, Charleston: The History Press, 2014. 53-54. 30 Army of the Potomac during the Maryland Campaign was a conglomeration of several different organizations. It contained the II, V, and VI Corps the original Army of the Potomac, the re-designated I and XII Corps, the Army of Virginia, and the newly dubbed IX that had served on the North Carolina coast. Although there were certainly experienced troops and leaders in each of these components, they each spoke a different organizational "language." 70 George McClellan certainly had the most difficult task of any field commander regarding the organization of his army. Not only did he have three different organizations to mold together as a cohesive fighting force, but he also had the additional struggle of doing it on the fly in a military and national emergency. Therefore, although the Army of the Potomac was a potent fighting force, and managed to engage the Confederates, its capabilities in terms of operational effectiveness were severely limited. Buell's circumstances were much more appealing. His Army of the Ohio had remained intact as a cohesive fighting force since its formation; however, he received additional reinforcements from Grant, and a host of new regiments, diluting its effectiveness as an organization. The Army of the Ohio's real organizational issues manifested in the senior leadership's quirks, rivalries, and lack of cohesion. 71 The use of cavalry in both McClellan and Buell's forces paled in comparison to the South. This issue stemmed from the Federal government's inability to recognize the importance of that specific branch early in the conflict. Overwhelmingly, the cavalry found its commands broken apart and scattered across the army, acting in various guard and staff related duties. Those commands retained to perform the primary tasks of nineteenth-century, reconnaissance, screening, and raids were too few and spread out to have any significant impact on the outcome 70 Hartwig, 133-135. 71 Steven E. Woodworth, Nothing but Victory: The Army of the Tennessee, 1861-1865. New York: Vintage, 2005. 216. 31 of the Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns. 72 Although they lacked in cavalry ability the Federals were unquestionably superior in artillery. Union guns, although far superior to that of the South were severely flawed organizationally in 1862. Circling back to the theme of different organizational structures in McClellan's force, the arrangement of this branch varied, causing communication issues, and leadership vacuums. In common with the cavalry, the prominent artillery structure in 1862 in both the Army of the Potomac and Army of the Ohio, lacked a unified system of command; instead, most batteries were the responsibility of brigade commanders or divisional commanders. Therefore, at critical moments batteries could only take orders from infantry commanders and were presented with the difficult task of coordinating mass firing on specific targets. 73 While it may seem trivial, such inefficiency in employment and "bureaucratic red tape" of military organization prevented the cavalry and artillery from performing at its maximum potential which no doubt contributed to the shortcomings of the Union armies in 1862. The Confederate military organization also had its flaws; however, as previously noted, the experience level of Confederate forces as a whole were much higher and able to adapt to a situation more efficiently. Partly this had to do with the smaller size of the forces overall, and the Confederate authorities' choice to disperse recruits and conscripts across seasoned units rather than raise new organizations. The cavalry of J.E.B. Stuart, John Hunt Morgan, and Nathan Bedford Forrest for instance were vastly superior to their Federal counterparts in every respect. These commands were led well, centralized, and overall contained extremely efficient horsemen, which had proven themselves time and again on the battlefield. 74 Confederate artillery was 72 Hartwig, 155-158. 73 Curt Johnson and Richard C. Anderson, Jr., Artillery Hell: The Employment of Artillery at Antietam, College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1995. 53; Daniel, 146, 148-150. 74 Hartwig, 88-90; Hess, Banners to the Breeze, 24. 32 generally inferior in respect to quality of mechanics, yet, the branch retained a slight advantage over its foes in its organization. Lee's artillery was organized on the divisional level, allowing for easier deployment, and concentrated fire, as the Army of Northern Virginia, did not have a corps structure during this time, division commanders held greater authority in placement and employment of artillery. Furthermore, several groups of divisions fell under an unofficial "wing" structure, allowing Jackson and Longstreet to concentrate guns further. 75 Bragg organized his army different than Lee's army. Bragg operated with two wings or corps, broken down into several divisions. His army maintained an organized and effective cavalry force; however, their weakest point was the artillery. Only fifty-six guns accompanied the Army of Mississippi into Kentucky compared to Buell's 147 guns. These Confederate guns like the Federals were assigned to individual brigades, same as its Federal counterpart, eliminating opportunities to converge fire effectively. 76 Understanding the organizational structure of an army allows for a realistic understanding of what that force is capable of; how it moves in the larger scheme of a campaign; and the benefits and challenges of its employment on the tactical level. Assuming the forces involved were all organized in the same fashion, with identical structures is detrimental in interpreting the ebb and flow of battles and campaigns. A clear picture of how a field army operates through an organizational table is, therefore, paramount. Using Lee and McClellan as examples illustrate the nature of this point. In the Maryland Campaign, Lee was able to give more direct orders to independent division commanders, therefore reducing somewhat the natural confusion begot of transferring and disseminating orders through multiple tiers of officers. On the other hand, McClellan had to give orders to "wing" commanders, who then cut the orders to corps 75 Johnson, Artillery Hell, 41-47. 76 Noe, 370-373, 381-382. 33 commanders then down to the divisional level, doubling the amount of personalities the orders had to go through compared to Lee's forces. It is clear from watching the battles of Antietam and Perryville's tactical evolution that the commanding generals' intent was time and again ineffectually carried out due to communication breakdown and misinterpretation of orders on both sides. Having only scratched the surface of the organizational components of only four of the principal armies involved in the fall of 1862, it becomes clear that each differed in how it chose to conduct its internal operations. However, it is equally apparent from this brief examination, that Confederate forces in the fall of 1862 were better organized and tactically more efficient than their Federal counterparts in Maryland and Kentucky, therefore lending an edge to overall Confederate success and perhaps victory. Strategic Considerations: The strategic components are unquestionably the most important when ascertaining why the fall of 1862 was the Confederacy's high tide. Having looked at the political, logistical, and organizational components and internalizing how each affected the grand design of Confederate strategy in 1862, this section will now tie these components together and shed light on how each influenced strategic decision and guided the final results of the campaigns. A clear understanding of what strategy is necessary to further examine this section. Clausewitz defines strategy as: "the employment of the battle as the means towards the attainment of the object of the War." 77 The "attainment of the object" is the crucial cog in accepting the purpose and direction of operations in Maryland and Kentucky. The strategic composition of these campaigns was different in what they sought to obtain as their achievable goal. Lee's objective was political in its foundation; his 77 Clausewitz, 133. 34 campaign didn't revolve around the occupation of land or control of any specific feature; instead, it sought a climactic battle with a decisive battlefield victory in which Lee was willing to risk his army in a desperate gamble. 78 Bragg and Smith's Kentucky incursions were much more multilayered on an operational platform. While some sort of showdown battle was necessary for the west, it was not the immediate goal, only a potentiality; instead, the relief and re-establishment of Tennessee was paramount with a secondary objective of the "liberation" of Kentucky. The second tier of goals included the control of rail and river systems as a means to eliminate the Union's ability to supply its forces and occupy any portion of the Upper or Deep South. The most significant strategic gain for the South in 1862 existed in Tennessee and Kentucky. Proof of this importance is shown through the fact that six of the seven Confederate field armies would make this region their primary objective in the fall of 1862. These six armies included the commands of Generals' Braxton Bragg, Kirby Smith, Earl Van Dorn, Stirling Price, William Loring, and Humphrey Marshall. Confederate control and or occupation of Tennessee and Kentucky offered benefits and a platform for victory that the remaining Confederate states collectively couldn't offer. Having been the first state to fall under Federal control, Tennessee's recapture would be a major morale boost for the Confederacy nationally and particularly to the large amount of Tennessee regiments that made up Bragg's army. The most significant benefit, however, resided in Tennessee's industrial capability, as it contained the ability to produce more raw items for the war effort then the rest of the Confederacy combined. 79 Confederate control 78 Harsh, 25; OR, vol 19, 1: 598-599. 79 Connelly. 5-15. The importance of Tennessee to the Confederacy is undeniable. Connelly argues that the region was the largest concentrated area for the production of war materials in the Confederacy. The region by 1864 had produced 22,665 pounds niter. Additionally, the area contained a significant source of lead, and was the chief producer of gunpowder in 1861. Tennessee also contained a vast number of factories that repaired old weapons, manufactured new small arms, cartridges, percussion caps, and other equipment. By the fall of 1861, Nashville plants alone turned out 100,000 percussion caps daily, with some 1,300,000 caps produced weekly. The region boasted on the two major Confederate sources of livestock, the other being 35 would, therefore, help in stabilizing the struggling logistical and economic constraints faced in the South. Additionally, the state's rail system would allow for the re-establishment of a direct connection to North Carolina and Virginia and the ability to ship supplies and material to the Confederate forces in the east. Conversely, the loss of Tennessee would be a major blow to Union morale, as its loss would have undone and nullified the Federal campaigns in 1861 and early 1862. 80 Kentucky also offered significant gains for the South. It was generally believed, particularly by the Confederate government's higher echelons, that the majority of Kentuckians were sympathetic to the Southern cause and would rally to Confederate banners if field armies were able to move into the region and strategically hold it. Logistically Kentucky offered a substantial increase for the South, particularly in animals, forage, and transportation options. Like Tennessee, Kentucky contained major river systems and rail lines that would drastically increase movement for the South and partially cut off the mid-west states from the rest of the Union. Politically, Kentucky, a vital border state under Confederate control, could be crippling to Northern domestic and foreign political views. In theory, this political aspect played on a successful campaign in Maryland, another vital border state. More immediately, Kentucky offered the western Confederate armies an opportunity to turn the war from one of defense to one poising them on the edge of invasion of critical Northern states, Ohio, Illinois, and Indiana. Such a turn in the circumstances would be devastating for the Union, particularly politically. The Illinois town of Cairo on the Mississippi River, in 1862 was serving as the logistical launch point for the Union armies in the west; prolonged Confederate control of Kentucky would likely force the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia. More pork was raised in Tennessee save Missouri than any other state. Agriculturally, Middle Tennessee in 1860 produced an average of more than a million bushels of corn making it a leader amongst its sister states. 80 Connelly, 3-6. 36 the Federals to find an alternative method of supplying the troops in Corinth and other points in the Southern heartland. As long as the Federals controlled these regions, they would continue to pin the Confederacy in the Deep South denying them of access to vital infrastructure, maneuvering room, and favorable victory conditions. Braxton Bragg and Kirby Smith had to go on the offensive if they were to alleviate the situation by the very nature of the circumstances. As Lee's army with Richmond, their backs were on the doorstep of the Deep South, and they had no room to maneuver. Fortunately for the South, the western offensive was born out of an opportune moment of Halleck's caution that was strategically seized upon by Confederate commanders. In the necessity of the moment, launching an offensive like Lee during the Seven Days battles was the only beneficial option and a necessary risk if the war was going to be taken off the doorstep of the Deep South. Robert E. Lee on the other end of things saw himself and his army as the most important entity in the Confederacy at that moment. In his mind, the only scenario for Confederate victory rested in his hands alone. He showed this belief in dispatches and letters throughout the campaign in an effort to orchestrate movements across the Confederacy to complement his objective. In a letter to Jefferson Davis, he noted his desire to see his suggestion on what he felt Loring's command should do in the Kanawha Valley, in an effort to support his operation. 81 Lee did not stop with Loring; however, days prior, he communicated his victory at Manassas and planned offensive to Braxton Bragg and requested that Bragg pass the information along to Kirby Smith for further coordination. It was Lee's desire that these western armies gain similar victories to his at Manassas, that when added together may be enough to secure Southern 81 OR, vol 19, 1: 594. 37 victory.82 Lastly, he demonstrated his understanding of the confused state of Federal forces in Washington and the need to seize the initiative before the opportunity was lost. Like Kentucky, Maryland was a vital border state, not for its potentiality in resources, but rather for its geographic relation to Washington. Any serious Confederate incursion into the state would be life-threatening to the Union, and therefore demanded desperate measures on the part of Northern armies to repel such an advance. 83 Lee's leadership has been often criticized during the Maryland Campaign from historians and even shocked his subordinates, Jackson, and Longstreet. 84 Lee was certainly aggressive and was known for taking risks; however, he was not a foolish man, and never committed his army to a disaster, at least not one he foresaw. Comparing his stratagem throughout the rest of the war, it's probable to conclude that his movements were well thought out, with the least amount of risk generated from the objective demands of the campaign. Even in moments of reaction to McClellan, Lee always retained the initiative in Maryland. In the aftermath of Seconded Manassas and Chantilly, it was the opinion of many in both military and civilian leadership that a final showdown somewhere north of the Potomac River was all that was needed for Confederate victory. 85 If Lee was a poker player, he was taking his hand and going all in, he could only hope the Federals floundered. General Longstreet understood the gravity of the moment when he wrote: "When the Second Bull Run campaign 82 OR, vol 19, 1: 589. 83 Ezra A. Carman, The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, Vol. I: South Mountain. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens, El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. 19-21. Carman was present at the battle of Antietam and dedicated his life to research and study of the Maryland Campaign in the post war years. Carman's work was able to capture not only the historical timeline of events, but offered an emotional aspect not seen in other works. This emotional component while subtle is an important tool in internalizing the mindset of Union soldiers and perhaps the North itself. 84 James Longstreet, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War, Edited by Ned Bradford. New York: The Fairfax Press, 1979. 265. Longstreet claims that aside from himself, that General Jackson was also taken back from the boldness of Lee's designs on the Maryland Campaign, while at a meeting in Frederick MD, September 9th. 85 Harsh, 60-63. Multiple historians have agreed on this point. James Murfin considered the battle of Antietam to be the most important battle in American history, and one of the most decisive in world history. Ezra Carman portrays the campaign as requiring desperate action for the North, while Scot Hartwig, Stephen Sears and James McPherson center on the political undertone. 38 closed, we had the most brilliant prospects the Confederates ever had. We then possessed an army which, had it been kept together, the Federals would never have dared attack." 86 Lee's confidence in his army was surely the determining factor in his choice to assume the offensive into Maryland, and no doubt behind his reasoning to push the army as hard as he did in the maneuvering and fighting that took place in Maryland. The General expressed his confidence in the men and the importance of the offensive in General Order No. 102. on September 4: "This army is about to engage in most important operations." He further outlines the necessity of respecting private property, and the desire for his commands to lighten their supply encumbrance to allow them to move quickly and efficiently. 87 When coupling the logistical and organizational shortcomings, the political factors reinforced by his troops' confidence and his in them proved to be the energy from which the Maryland Campaign was executed. The offensives themselves presented each of these commanders a complicated set of obstacles and decisions to overcome while ensuring they offered the best possible benefit to their cause with the least amount of risk towards their army. This is certainly one of the most challenging aspects of being a commander in charge of any offensive-minded campaign. Johnston at Shiloh, Burnside at Fredericksburg, Hooker at Chancellorsville, and Hood in Tennessee all failed to capitalize on this principle. The fact that Lee and Bragg achieved the scale of operational measures they did is a testament to their leadership and ability to seize control and direction of a developing situation. If the argument is to be maintained that the Maryland and Kentucky campaigns provided the South the best chance the South had of winning the war, then proof of this claim must lay within the strategic composition of the campaigns themselves. If taken in this context, then it must be understood that every move Lee, Bragg, and 86 Longstreet, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War, 263. 87 OR, vol 16, 2: 592. 39 Smith, along with the supporting roles of Loring, Marshall, Price, and Van Dorn were calculated if not on a grand scale, certainly on an individual level. Unlocking the purpose of the maneuvers, and their relation to strategic success will illustrate the continually changing dynamics and environment of each campaign, and how these generals continually altered their designs to fit the goals of their strategic objectives. The evolving strategic situation in the months leading up to the campaigns created the conditions under which the operations in Maryland and Kentucky were governed. Understanding the Confederate forces' strategic focus for needing to assume the offensive will outline the gravity and weight they placed on the outcome of these fall campaigns. The most measurable strategic potential in 1862 existed in the Western Theater. As already stated, the economic and logistical importance of this region necessitated an aggressive action on behalf of the South if the Confederacy was to survive. The first attempt at recovering control of Tennessee occurred in April with the battle of Shiloh. While tactically a Confederate failure, the aftermath of the fighting created adverse reactions from the Northern press and transposed into Halleck's overall cautious and slow pursuit towards Corinth. Halleck, after taking Corinth, was faced with limited choices on where to move next. Due to political and doctrinal restrictions of conciliation and Halleck's theory on war, the massive Union army was not able logistically to move into the Deep South. The only real move available to the Federal forces in the summer of 1862, was a lateral one east towards Chattanooga. 88 With Bragg at Tupelo and Kirby Smith's small command at Chattanooga, the path of success for an aggressive officer to take Chattanooga, a major supply hub for the South, was wide open. Halleck foiled this opportunity by sending Buell's command to accomplish the task. The slow-moving cautious Buell initially created consternation among 88 Daniel, 86. 40 Confederate leadership, yet once the pace of his progress was realized, the same trepidation turned into an opportunity. 89 Clausewitz described the potential for a reciprocal effect to take place should an army go on the offensive; however, he counterweighs that thought with pointing out that an army in a precarious position with the opportunity to gain a substantial amount should jump on the opportunity if one should be presented. 90 Certainly, Bragg and Smith applied a variation of this maxim into their decision to go on the advance. The term "invasion" is the defining ideology that bound both major theaters of war and other Confederate objectives in the fall of 1862. Clausewitz wrote that even if the complete overthrow of the enemy is impossible, which it was for the Confederacy, then the only other real option of winning a war is to conquer a portion of the enemy territory. In conquering the enemy territory, the invader has the opportunity to weaken the enemy's resources, crippling their ability to sustain an army. By carrying the war in enemy territory, the conditions will further the enemy's expense and ultimately lead to peace negotiations. 91 The term "invasion" generates a delicate question concerning what an invasion actually is, and how it fits into the American context, particularly in the political spectrum in 1862. Baron De Jomoni, whose military maxims were dominant in nineteenth-century America, distinguished what an "invasion" actually is. Breaking down the idea of an offensive, he wrote that: "…an invasion occurs against a great state whose whole or significant portion of territory is attacked. If only a province or moderate line of defense is attacked, then it is an offensive, and if such actions are limited only to a confined operation, then it is termed an initiative." 92 Indeed then, if taken in this context, 89 Connelly, 200-201. 90 Clausewitz, 707. 91 Clausewitz, 706. Neither of the primary Confederate armies had the ability to "conquer" Federal territory. However, the last part in reference to Clausewitz maxim was the adaptation applied by the Confederacy in its strategic goals. 92 Jomini, The Art of War, 54. The difference in the definition in understanding the purpose of the Confederate objective is critical. Many historians point to the Army of Northern Virginia's strategic goals as fitting into the framework of an 41 Confederate efforts militarily were an offensive and an invasion only in the political spectrum. Although the press and even the top military minds used the term invasion quite frequently in the North, there is nothing in the Confederate strategic framework of 1862, that fit the definition of invasion, Lee himself in a letter to Jefferson Davis on September 4, used the term expedition implying that his foray had a specific purpose and would be short. 93 Due to logistics alone, Confederate forces across the board could not sustain the long-term goals of an invasion. However, the Clausewitzian maxim of a "strategical attack" was within reach and achievable according to the conditional logistical framework. Much of the success for the Confederates relied on the superiority of its troops, and the avoidance of exhausting itself with an over achievement of objectives. 94 The window of opportunity was narrow, operationally because of logistics, but more importantly, because of politics. The two most significant benefits afforded to the Southern cause in 1862 were the Congressional fall elections and European superpowers. If Confederate forces could score a major political victory in the east, and both a strategic reversal coupled with a political coup in the west, then perhaps Northern voters would come to resent the war and vote for "Peace Democrats" in November, and more advantageously draw England and France in as mediators or some other influential role, to end the war. It is apparent that the pressure to act decisively if not at least aggressively before November was of paramount importance. While it is debated as to how far the European powers would intercede, what is certain is that the Confederacy banked part of its strategic decisions both politically and militarily on intervention. 95 Just as apparent was the frustration and delicate invasion, yet when looking at that particular army's logistics and Lee's strategic goals only the Jominian maxim of offensive fits the framework. 93 OR, vol 16, 2: 591-592. 94 Clausewitz, 601. 95 McPherson, 534-535. 42 statesmanship which had to be executed on behalf of the Union to convince the English mainly that the war was nothing more than a rebellion that the Republic could put down on its own. 96 However, this did not appear to be the scene in the late summer of 1862 with Union defeats and setbacks continually piling up. Lee retained the initiative by keeping the enemy guessing what his next move and true objective was. According to Henry McClellan, J.E.B. Stuart's adjutant, that as late as September 13, Federal forces maintained the: "utmost uncertainty regarding Lee's movements and intentions." 97 Lee designed his army's movements to draw out the Federals from Washington. By crossing at Leesburg, his army was initially east of the Catoctin Mountains and a direct threat to Washington and Baltimore, it was this crossing point that directly forced the disorganized Army of the Potomac to leave the defenses prematurely, and more importantly to force Lincoln's hand in placing McClellan back in overall command. 98 The key to the Army of Northern Virginia's movements was speed and mobility, thus the reasoning for Lee's series of orders, which included provisions for shoeless Confederates to remain at Winchester, a lightening of supplies, and an insistence that straggling be strictly forbidden. Lee's next major objective after crossing the Potomac River was to move on Frederick. A Confederate presence in a substantial pro-Union area was a direct insult to the North, and would only further press the Army of the Potomac to hurry faster in order to "repel the invasion" and "save the nation"; while most importantly for the Confederates, continually limit the progress of McClellan organizing his army into a capable force on the battlefield. 96 Nelson, 163-168. 97 H.B. McClellan, The Life and Campaigns of Major-General J.E.B. Stuart: Commander of the Cavalry of the Army of Northern Virginia, Edison: The Blue & Grey Press, 1993. 113. 98 Harsh, 98; OR, vol 16, 2: 604-605. Letter from Lee to Davis on September 12 justifying is reasoning for crossing his army east of the mountains. 43 Lee's grand strategy was working so far; his movements northward from Richmond had stripped the Atlantic states of their Union occupiers to concentrate on Lee's Confederate force, while at the same time sending the Federal strategy of war into complete chaos as they scrambled to deal with the offensive. Lee believed that if he launched an unrelenting offensive, the Federals would be compelled to abandon their widely scattered smaller campaigns, which were gradually eating away the frontiers of the Confederacy; and, as a result, be forced to concentrate their columns in response to his initiatives. 99 Lee's movement into the western part of the state, via Frederick and into the Middleton and Pleasant valleys, opened the Shenandoah Valley up momentarily, which assisted Loring's advance in western Virginia, by isolating the small Federal commands in that region. In addition to freeing up Loring to make an offensive, Lee's army in western Maryland split the Federal war effort in half. The Army of the Potomac was now confined in environs around Washington, while Federal forces in the Western Theater had no direct route to reinforce McClellan. 100 The simultaneous advance of Lee, Loring, Marshall, Smith, and Bragg effectively drove a wedge between the Union field armies, while Price and Van Dorn's forces kept Grant fixed at Corinth. 101 Bragg and Smith's columns made their march through eastern and middle Tennessee and into Kentucky at an incredible speed, leaving Buell's army to have to hustle to catch up. 102 Kirby Smith realized the opportunity in front of him early on and moved his men forward roughly the same time Lee's men were preparing to destroy John Pope's forces near Manassas, beginning the Kentucky Campaign. Union Brigadier General George W. Morgan's command held the vital Cumberland Gap, which historian Earl Hess christened the "Gibraltar of the West." 99 Harsh, 116. 100 Hartwig, 162-163. 101 Harsh, 96-97; Hess, 31-35. 102 Hess, 57,62,64. 44 The Gap itself served as a platform for the Federals to invade East Tennessee, and as long as it remained in Federal hands, the Deep South, particularly Chattanooga and Atlanta, would be under constant threat. 103 Reducing this garrison was the first lynchpin in breaking Federal control and regaining Tennessee for the South. Smith, now free to maneuver feinted around the gap and threatened the supply lines, forcing a Federal withdrawal; he then turned his legions northward and moved into Kentucky. Smith moved through the eastern part of the state and pushed Heth's division as far as Covington, directly across from Cincinnati, sending that city and southern Ohio into a panic. 104 With Smith's small army running almost unmolested in Kentucky, Bragg's larger army moved through Middle Tennessee via Sparta feinting towards Nashville, forcing the Federals to concentrate there, while strategically widening the gap between Buell's command and Southern forces in Kentucky. Bragg, before departing to Chattanooga, left behind roughly 35,000 men in two separate commands under generals Stirling Price and Earl Van Dorn. These commands had a twofold objective. Their primary objective was to contain the Army of the Tennessee at Corinth, and once Bragg and Smith were in position, launch an offensive of their own against Grant, defeat him, and then rapidly march to connect with Bragg's army. 105 Bragg and Smith exposed the weakness in the Federal policy of limited war with its preoccupation of taking landmarks and reliance on cumbersome supply lines and within less than a months' time-reversed almost a year of Union progress in the west, in respect to subjugating the Upper South. Unlike John Bell Hood's offensive into Tennessee in late 1864, which, while certainly an emergency, did not deviate Sherman from his plans of marching to the sea. 106 In 103 Hess, 7-8. 104 Volpe, "Dispute Every Inch of Ground", 141. 105 Noe, 29. 106 Eric A. Jacobson and Richard A. Rupp, For Cause and for Country: A Study of the Affair at Spring Hill and the Battle of Franklin, Eric A. Jacobson, 2013. 42. 45 1862, this simply was impossible for Federal forces. Sherman operated under a "hard war" doctrine that allowed him to subsist off the land and changed his objective from key city centers to making war on the Southern people, through the destruction of their local economy, food subsistence, and ability subsist in a normal capacity. 107 Sherman effectively narrowed the war to the immediate doorstep of the Southern People. As a result the individual citizen was forced to deal with their own survival, and naturally the bigger picture of the Confederacy became less important. Union forces in 1862 did not have the same conditional framework, and by default, would be forced to pursue any Confederate force and meet it on the battlefield. Even though the fall of 1862 didn't produce the hoped-for victory conditions, strategically, the Confederates were more successful in this period than at any other part of the war. The results of this success were more apparent in the Western Theater than in the east. However, certain components in the Eastern Theater changed as well. The most significant measurable success emerged in time bought for the Confederacy, and a prolonged timetable for the Northern plan of war. In the summer, Federal plans in the west called for the capture of Vicksburg and Chattanooga, the latter of which was in progress when the offensive started. 108 It is highly probable that if able, the Federal forces would have moved on Vicksburg in the summer of 1862, and perhaps forced its capitulation much sooner. 109 However, this is only speculation, yet, the reality is this operation was certainly delayed by the events that occurred in Kentucky and the aggressive nature of Price and Van Dorn. Kentucky was only one variable in stymieing the Federal drive toward Vicksburg. Just as important were the aggressiveness of Price and Van Dorn at the battles of Iuka and Corinth in October. Although Confederate defeats, the outcome of 107 Charles Royster, The Destructive War: William Tecumseh Sherman, Stonewall Jackson, and the Americans, New York: Alfred A. Knopf Inc. 321-328. 108 McPherson, 511-512. 109 Woodworth, Nothing but Victory, 243-244. 46 these battles managed to temporarily check the Federals, prompting an end to any realistic campaign season in Mississippi. At least for the foreseeable future, the Mississippi River remained open by way of Vicksburg, and Union strategy incomplete, in which case was Price and Van Dorn's big contribution. 110 Bragg and Smith failed to hold Kentucky and or convert her into a Confederate state. However, as the logistic concerns show, the state's complete occupation, with the available forces, was genuinely impossible. In all the engagements that had taken place, the Southerners had the better day. Kirby Smith's army completely routed Federal forces at Richmond in August, and Bragg's army captured the garrison at Munfordville. Before and during the campaign John Hunt Morgan's cavalry had wreaked havoc in Kentucky, capturing supplies, disrupting communications, and pushing to the Ohio River virtually unchallenged. 111 Even Kentucky's principle battle at Perryville was the better day tactically for the Confederates. More than anything, Kentucky showed the weakness of Buell, limited war, and the Union's inability to protect vital territory adequately under a conciliation policy. While in the end Bragg and Smith left, they did so generally unmolested, which showed Buell's unwillingness to fight another pitched battle. Therefore, this aftermath was certainly nothing for the Union to be proud of. In truth Buell did not drive Bragg and Smith out of Kentucky, rather the limitations of logistics and the realization of strategic objectives forced the Confederates back to Tennessee. 112 Although Braxton Bragg is surrounded by much controversy and sharp opinions on his leadership capabilities, one must look past emotion and see the facts as they present in the strategic element. While indeed, the Confederates failed to hold Kentucky, they did succeed in 110 Woodworth, 239-240. 111 Hess, 12. 112 Noe, 333. 47 regaining portions of Tennessee. In particular, Middle Tennessee by way of Murfreesboro, which sat astride the Nashville and Chattanooga Railroad, and was seen as the key to the wealthy Stone, Duck, and Elk River valleys. 113 Historian Thomas Connelly pointed out, which was already previously noted, that Tennessee was by far the most critical state in terms of manufacturing to the South. Although the entire state wasn't in Confederate hands, over two-thirds of it was, and most importantly, the opportunity to secure the very vital Nashville and Mississippi River corridor remained a possibility for a future campaign. 114 The primary focal point in the interpretation of the Kentucky Campaign is the Confederate failure to remain within that state. However, the key phrase narrows down to opportunity and potential. If taken in this context, the Confederate forces in July were backed into a corner. However, come October, these same forces had managed to throw the Federal forces off balance and regain a significant portion of lost territory, changing the entire atmosphere and flow of the Western Theater. In short, the success of the Kentucky Campaign is that it allowed the Confederates to move from the verge of defeat to a position where the fate of the Western Theater was up in the air, which only a decisive campaign would bring to a conclusion. 115 The fall of 1862 was the last chance the Confederates had at securing Tennessee permanently during the war. While the Western Theater was more significant in terms of strategic gain and leverage, the Eastern Theater added its own momentous shift in the flow of events. Unlike the west, the Eastern Theater was very narrow, as it existed in the space between Richmond and Washington. In strategic terms, the region was harrowing regarding maneuvering room and logistical sustainment. In one sense, Lee and his army were successful in pushing the Army of the Potomac 113 Peter Cozzens, No Better Place to Die: The Battle of Stones River, Chicago: University of Illinois, 1990. 8. 114 Connelly, 16-22. 115 Cozzens, No Better Place to Die, 12-14; Hess, 116. 48 away from the gates of Richmond, along with wrecking the Army of Virginia, while lastly temporarily clearing the smaller theaters, such as the coast and Shenandoah Valley of Federal forces. 116 While this situation may have provided an opportunity in the west, it meant little or nothing in the east. The fact is, Lee understood his primary objective either consisted of breaking the Northern will to fight through battlefield victory or by the complete destruction of the Union army. 117 Lee's primary objective in Maryland was to bate the Federal forces into a showdown fight. He was successful in this mission by just crossing over the Potomac River. The location of Washington in the southern portion of Maryland across from Alexandria made an incursion in Maryland a threat for the Federal government. 118 Unlike the west, where a fair amount of effort was required for Bragg and Smith to march their armies the distance required to Kentucky, the Army of Northern Virginia did not have to move far to accomplish its mission. Another key component to Lee's strategic objective was the lack of overhead in its long-term goal. Unlike the Western Theater, there was no pressure for Lee to specifically secure any particular region, as the Confederacy in the east had not lost any of its production capabilities nor any significant amount of land to Federal occupation. Therefore, the Confederate movements' direction wasn't necessarily guided by a specific purpose, but rather by the necessity of strategic gains which were designed to draw out the Army of the Potomac in a state of haste and unpreparedness. However, whereas the Kentucky Campaign had different aspects of measurable success, the 116 Harsh, 19-20. 117 Murfin, 63-64. 118 Harsh, 23; Murfin, 36-40; McPherson, 555-556. All the major historians who focus on the Maryland Campaign point to this as a major component to deterring the outcome and purpose of Lee's strategy. 49 Maryland Campaign had none, only a single purpose that demanded a climactic clash to determine its outcome. 119 At no other point in the war did Lee have such an advantage and control of the initiative. Arguably, his combination of subordinate officers was the best in their position as a whole than at any other point. His army was operating off a long track of victory, the length of which they would not experience again. 120 And most importantly, the Maryland Campaign was truly the only time in which Lee would have direct control of the flow of events; in Richmond, he had acted out of desperation, in Northern Virginia, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, the Overland Campaign and Petersburg he counteracted his opponents moves, and at Gettysburg, he committed to a battle that was dictated by the Federals. In September of 1862, Lee was the composer of the campaign and the master of ceremonies, he and he alone decided when and where the climactic battle would be fought. 121 All too often, the argument arises that the Army of the Potomac moved quicker than Lee expected, and caught him off guard, forcing him to settle and fight an unprepared battle at Sharpsburg. This theory would make sense if Lee's strategic objectives were multilayered like Bragg or Smith. Nevertheless, this theory doesn't match up to his sole objective of a decisive engagement. As seen with logistical circumstances, Hagerstown was likely the limit for the army in terms of range, Lee, therefore, had decided to make the principle stand somewhere in that area. 122 Two factors make this apparent, the choice to reduce Harpers Ferry and Martinsburg, which are necessary for military doctrine, and the choice to have the army lay around Frederick 119 OR, vol 16, 2: Correspondence between Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis, September 8, 1862; Harsh, 119; Alexander, Fighting for the Confederacy, 139. 120 Hartwig, 126-127. 121 Harsh, 57-59. 122 Carman, The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, Vol. I ,108-111; Harsh, 190; Hartwig, 116-117; Murfin, 113. All of these sources for reasons ranging from realistic logistical concerns to Lee's strategic initiative point towards the area of Hagerstown as the realistic goal of the Confederate offensive. 50 for several days. 123 If the plan had been to fight somewhere else or keep the Federals at a distance, these two factors fit the mold. The truth is that Lee wanted a fight, and he wanted it quick, the geography of Western Maryland affords a great opportunity to a defending army, which was Lee's primary tactical vision. 124 Looking at the scope of the Army of Northern Virginia's movements in the campaign, there a few abundantly clear facts that warrant Lee's strategic designs. It's already been stated that Lee's intention was to draw out the Army of the Potomac, which he did by simply crossing into Maryland, and ushered the emergency by crossing east of the mountains. 125 The next key was the layover or taunting of the Federals by having his army remain in Frederick for several days. The decision to reduce the Harpers Ferry garrison, while militarily necessary, also doubly acted as part of the "national emergency" which further put pressure on McClellan and his army to move with haste. 126 The battle of South Mountain, while a Confederate defeat, opened the way for the Federals to move over the range and meet Lee on the ground of his choosing. 127 South Mountain is interesting, particularly for strategic reasons. The choice to leave one division under D.H. Hill to hold the three passes stretched over ten miles indicates that Lee didn't intend to stop the Federals there and expected them to take the position. A decisive battle along the South Mountain range would not have been beneficial for Lee to meet his objectives. His army would not have been able to counterattack effectively due to terrain, and maneuvering room would have been limited. Although Lee initially considered scrapping the campaign due to the longer than expected siege of Harpers Ferry, once the garrison did fall, he was able to 123 Harsh, 147-150; Hartwig, 211-212, OR, vol 16, 2, 603 (Special Orders 191) 605-608. 124 Allan, 201-205; Harsh, 98-99; Marshall, 148-150. 125 Marshall, 146. 126 Brian Matthew Jordan, Unholy Sabbath: The Battle of South Mountain in History and Memory September 14, 1862, New York: Savas Beatie, 2012. 80-85. 127 Jordon, Unholy Sabbath, 301. 51 concentrate his forces in the area of Sharpsburg. 128 It may not be that Lee specifically wanted to fight at Sharpsburg, but the lay of the land and the tactical and strategic components of it, offered natural terrain on which to fight a decisive battle. 129 The Antietam battlefield offered several very strong defensive opportunities. First was the Antietam Creek, which was wide and deep enough to stop infantry from crossing unless over a bridge. The terrain, particularly on the southern end of the battlefield, is very suitable for a defending force, along with the ground near the center of the battlefield. On the northern end, the terrain is its weakest for defense; however, the entire battlefield, especially the northern end, is very suitable for artillery employment. Lee's position at Antietam Creek was without question formidable. 130 Whereas the events in Kentucky were one of maneuver, Maryland hinged on the tactical climax. Therefore, both forces needed to clash and soundly defeat the other to end the campaign. The battle of Antietam itself ended in a draw, and the opposing lines virtually remained the same. 131 Having realized the day after the engagement that McClellan wasn't likely to attack again, and understanding that his position offered no benefits for his army to attack, Lee promptly withdrew back into Shepherdstown, Virginia, (West Virginia) intending to regroup his army and re-crossing the Potomac River near Williamsport to again sue for a decisive battle. The Confederate's were blocked by several determining factors though, the two primary factors being McClellan's choice to move the VI Corps north towards Hagerstown to block a crossing, and a large amount of straggling that has taken place since the start of the 128 Allan, 320. 129 Harsh, 301-303. 130 Phillip Thomas Tucker, Burnside's Bridge: The Climatic Struggle of the 2nd and 20th Georgia at Antietam Creek, Mechanicsburg: Stackpole Books, 2000. 47-54. 131 Ezra Carman, The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, Vol. 2: Antietam. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens, El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. 501. 52 campaigning that had severely reduced Lee's army from upwards of 70,000 men down to roughly 45,000. 132 While Lee did not thrash McClellan's army at Antietam to the extent his strategic objectives called for, the opportunity for a Confederate political victory was not entirely gone. In fact, Lee's offensive convinced Britain and France that Northern armies could never restore the Union, and they contemplated mediation, which would have constituted de facto recognition of the Confederacy. 133 Moving away from the narrow view of Lee and Maryland it is important to note that Bragg's army had achieved a significant victory on September 17 at Munfordville the same day the battle of Antietam was raging. While Lee's army was more or less locked in a stalemate in Maryland, the western Confederate forces still very much retained the initiative in Kentucky. If a successful outcome in Kentucky occurred, perhaps that would be enough to enhance the stalemate at Antietam into a negative outcome for the Union. 134 Lee did not wait in position along Antietam Creek, for events to develop in Kentucky, he didn't have to. By simply moving back across the river and McClellan's inability to pursue for logistical reasons, Lee still very much posed a serious threat, especially with re-crossing into Maryland if need be. Looking at the outcome of the Maryland Campaign and the factors involved in the forces' genetic composition, Lee's army achieved all that could reasonably be expected of it. Certainly, due to its size, it would be impossible to annihilate the Army of the Potomac, yet, by remaining together and gaining the tactical victory, that would have to be enough. 135 132 Murfin, 306. 133 McPherson, 546. 134 Earl J. Hess, Braxton Bragg: The Most Hated Man in the Confederacy, University of North Carolina Press, 2016. 63. 135 Ezra Carman, The Maryland Campaign of September 1862. Vol. III: Shepherdstown Ford and the End of the Campaign. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens, El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. 20-21. 53 Truly then the lynchpin of the 1862 Confederate offensive rested on the shoulders of Bragg and Smith. 136 Lee's offensive and climatic battle of Antietam would have held little or no importance if the events west of the Appalachian's hadn't been taking place in the manner they were. The ultimate failure of Bragg and Smith in Kentucky was their inability to link their armies together. The process involved in making this happen didn't occur until it was too late. 137 Regardless of why this juncture of uniting these armies didn't occur, the important point was that they retained the initiative until the battle of Perryville. Unlike Lee, Bragg and Smith didn't necessarily have to defeat Buell or Wright's local forces, but rather they just needed to exist in Kentucky. Smith's forces had cleared out Morgan and what pitiful resistance Wright was able to scrape together. Buell's army lingered exhausted and timidly in the western part of the state. Bragg and Smith controlled in theory over two-thirds of the state in the last weeks of September into October. 138 The high tide of the Confederacy occurred not at Antietam, but in the days before Perryville. Up until this date, the South had been successful in relieving Richmond, Chattanooga, Vicksburg, the Carolina coast, Shenandoah Valley, western Virginia, and Northern Virginia of any significant Federal occupation, or military operations. The Confederate armies were at its maxim of manpower, at least in theory, if not in actual employment and contained men who were wholly more experienced than their counterparts. Most importantly, the South had been successful universally of maintaining a Confederate wide offensive initiative. When looking at the battles of South Mountain, Richmond, Munfordville, Antietam, and Harpers Ferry, only 136 Hess, Braxton Bragg, 64. 137 Noe, 328-329. 138 Daniel, 128-129; Hess, 62-64; Noe, 104. 54 South Mountain had been a Federal victory and Antietam a draw, while the rest were complete decisive Confederate victories. The battle of Perryville long considered the principal battle of the Kentucky Campaign was neither decisive nor climatic. 139 The battle itself was fought only by portions of the armies, on ground that held no real strategic value to the overall goals of the campaign. However, the legacy of Perryville resides in Bragg's choice to withdraw his army from Kentucky in its aftermath. Leaving aside Bragg's personality, leadership issues, and his subordinates, the important aspect to look at is what was actually accomplished by his army. It's already been stated that Bragg and Smith's offensive knocked the Federal plan of war back a few pegs and opened up at two-thirds of Tennessee for the foreseeable future. Confederate goals upon entering Kentucky were unclear and varied in design between Bragg and Smith. 140 Perhaps the largest draw was establishing the state as Confederate, which they quickly understood wasn't a popular option amongst the people. That being the case, Confederate field armies could only subsist for so long in hostile territory until they would, by necessity, be forced to withdraw to friendly Tennessee. 141 Therefore, without the support of the majority of Kentuckians to endorse a Confederate government, the continuation of a Southern army within the state offered no benefit to the Confederacy. 142 Bragg and Smith's only true strategic failing was their inability to link together and deliver a decisive blow against Buell. If looked at in the context of the genetics of an ocean wave, the advance into Kentucky was the last little bit of the wave that rolls into the edge of the beach. It neither has the momentum nor the power to damage anything of significant strength. However, the break or 139 Noe, 343. 140 Hess, 56-57. 141 Connelly, 228; Noe, 334. 142 Noe, 336. 55 impact of the wave that occurs just before hitting shore tends to denote the power of the temporary effects inflicted within that particular wave's life span. Sticking with the ocean wave analogy, the Confederate wide offensive in the fall of 1862 was the last ocean wave before the tide changed. The lifespan of the Confederacy would perish in the calm time between the next high tide. Conclusion: The interpretations of the Civil War, its key moments, critical players, and even the purpose of the conflict, vary in many different extremes, platforms, and algorithms. Surely there were other critical moments of the war, in which the Confederacy could have theoretically changed the outcome or moments in which Union forces could have ended the war much sooner. The progress of the war is a fascinating storyline of complete unpreparedness through a series of excruciating growing pains that led to the high efficiency of conducting war. Looking at the grand scope of the conflict, particularly the logistics of the opposing sides, even the most novice student of the struggle can recognize that the Confederacy was severely behind in every aspect and shouldn't have waged war. 143 However, the fact remains they did, and the reality is any Southern hope for victory resided in the slowness, unpreparedness, and political deadlock of the North's ability to wage war. The true window in which to view why the fall of 1862 was the Southern high tide occurs in the aftermath of the campaigns themselves. The first and most critical component was the issuance of the Emancipation Proclamation. The bold political move forever changed the direction and intent of the war. For the South, it had devastating consequences, as it eliminated 143 McPherson, 312-316. 56 any dream of European intervention, and essentially made the Confederacy an island left to its own. The proclamation also bled into the second crucial component, which truly had its roots at the beginning of 1862; however, it had become fully developed by the closing days of 1862, and that is the abandonment of "limited war" principals and the acceptance of "hard war" doctrine. 144 Militarily the South would never mount such a broad offensive again nor one with so much potential to gain from it. Lee's Pennsylvania Campaign in 1863, while more famous, did not have the potential as nine months prior when he crossed into Maryland. 145 Lee in June of 1863 was acting independently, while Confederate armies in the west were giving ground rapidly and losing Vicksburg. 146 Even with Confederate victory at Chickamauga, Bragg nor his predecessors could ever mount an effective counterthrust to regain vital Tennessee. 147 Hood's Tennessee Campaign in 1864 offered the closest opportunity; however, his cause was pyrrhic and traded the destruction of Georgia for the hope of gaining Tennessee. 148 The commencement of the Overland Campaign in 1864 saw the end of Lee's ability to mount a counterattack that had won for him on previous battlefields. With his numbers dwindling, and the Union's production capabilities at its height, continuing supply of reinforcements, and Grant's power to coordinate multiple armies upon Lee, forced the Confederate leader to dance to the tune of Grant's strategy. 149 144 McPherson, 567. 145 Coddington, The Gettysburg Campaign, 4-8. 146 Edwin C. Bearss and J. Parker Hills, Receding Tide: Vicksburg and Gettysburg the Campaigns that Changed the Civil War, National Geographic Society, 2010. 266. 147 Steven Woodworth, Six Armies in Tennessee: The Chickamauga and Chattanooga, Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1998. 144. 148 Jacobson, For Cause and for Country, 524. 149 Gordon C. Rhea, The Battle of the Wilderness May 5-6, 1864, Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1994. 9-10, 12-13, 22. 57 The Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns were episodes that the Union could not afford to lose. Certainly, Union armies, especially in the east, met multiple setbacks, defeats, and disasters throughout the war; however, a loss at this critical juncture in each theater would have produced devastating consequences from which the North could not recover. The brilliance of these campaigns resides in the fact that neither side could afford a negative outcome, and a victorious outcome for either side had the power and capabilities to change the entire trajectory of the war. The Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns do not have a true decisive victor in respect to the definition, yet, the rate at which the Union declared victory and the rapidity with which it instituted new measures both politically and militarily showed the emergency the events in the fall of 1862 produced for the North. 150 An acceptance of that notion coupled with political density, logistical pitfalls, organizational hurtles, and strategic objectives, will clearly indicate that the fall of 1862 in the course of the Maryland and Kentucky Campaigns, along with their supporting offenses was the high tide of the Confederacy, and the moment the Civil War changed trajectory in both political and military senses, which was the beginning of the Confederacy's defeat. 150 Muehlbauer, Ways of War, 197-200. 58 Bibliography Secondary Sources: Anderson, Nancy Scott and Dwight Anderson. The Generals: Ulysses. S. Grant and Robert E. Lee. Avenel: New Jersey, 1987. Bearss, Edwin C. and J. Parker Hills, Receding Tide: Vicksburg and Gettysburg the Campaigns that Changed the Civil War, National Geographic Society, 2010. Beloff, Max. "Historical Revision No. CXVIII: Great Britain and the American Civil War." History, New Series, 37, no. 129, (1952): 40-48. Brauer, Kinley J. "British Mediation and the American Civil War: A Reconsideration." The Journal of Southern History 38, no. 1 (1972): 49-64. Carman, Ezra Ayers. The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, Vol. I: South Mountain. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens, El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. Carman, Ezra Ayers. The Maryland Campaign of September 1862, Vol. 2: Antietam. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens. El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. Carman, Ezra Ayres. The Maryland Campaign of September 1862. Vol. III: Shepherdstown Ford and the End of the Campaign. Edited by Thomas G. Clemens. El Dorado Hills, CA: Savas Beatie, 2012. Chance, Joseph E. The Second Texas Infantry, From Shiloh to Vicksburg, Austin: Eakin Press, 1984. Coddington, Edwin B. The Gettysburg Campaign: A Study in Command, New York: Simon and Schuster. 1968. Connelly, Thomas Lawrence. Army of the Heartland: The Army of Tennessee, 1861-1862. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2001. Cozzens, Peter. No Better Place to Die: The Battle of Stones River, Chicago: University of Illinois, 1990. Cozzens, Peter. Shenandoah 1862: Stonewall Jackson's Valley Campaign. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2008. 59 Daniel, Larry J. Days of Glory: The Army of the Cumberland, 1861-1865. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2006. Donald, David Herbert. Lincoln. New York, NY: Touchstone, 1996. Glatthaar, Joseph T. General Lee's Army: From Victory to Collapse. New York: Free Press, 2008. Grimsley, Mark. The Hard Hand of War: Union Military Policy toward Southern Civilians, 1861-1865. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013. Halleck, Henry Wagner. Elements of Military Art and Science: Course of Instruction in Strategy, Fortification, Tactics of Battle, Embracing the Duties of Staff, Infantry, Cavalry, Artillery, and Engineers, Adapted to the Use of Volunteers and Militia, Third Edition, New York: D. Appleton & Company, 1862. Harsh, Joseph L. Taken at the Flood Robert E. Lee and Confederate Strategy in the Maryland Campaign of 1862. Ashland: The Kent State University Press, 2013. Hartwig, D. Scott. To Antietam Creek: the Maryland Campaign of September 1862. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 2019. Hennessy, John J. Return to Bull Run: The Battle and Campaign of Second Manassas. Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1999. Hess, Earl J. Banners to the Breeze: the Kentucky Campaign, Corinth, and Stones River. Lincoln, Neb.: University of Nebraska Press, 2010. Hess, Earl J. Braxton Bragg: The Most Hated Man of the Confederacy. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2016. Hoslett, Schuyler Dean. "The Richmond Daily Press on British Intervention in the Civil War: A Brief Summary." The William and Mary Quarterly 20, no. 1 (1940): 79-83. Jacobson Eric A. and Richard A. Rupp, For Cause and for Country: A Study of the Affair at Spring Hill and the Battle of Franklin, Eric A. Jacobson, 2013. Jomini, Antoine Henri. The Art of War: A New Edition, with Appendices and Maps. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1971. Jordan, Brian Matthew. Unholy Sabbath: The Battle of South Mountain in History and Memory September 14, 1862, New York: Savas Beatie, 2012. Longacre, Edward G. To Gettysburg and Beyond: The Twelfth New Jersey Volunteer Infantry, II Corps, Army of the Potomac, 1862-1865, Hightstown: Longstreet House, 1988. 60 McClellan, H. B. The Campaigns of Stuart's Cavalry. Edison, NJ: Blue and Grey Press, 1993. McPherson, James. Battle Cry of Freedom: The Civil War Era, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1988. Miller, Donald L. Vicksburg: Grants Campaign That Broke the Confederacy. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2020. Muehlbauer, Matthew S. and David J. Ulbrich, Ways of War: American Military History from the Colonial Era to the Twenty-First Century. New York: Routledge, 2018. Murfin, James V., and James I. Robertson. The Gleam of Bayonets: The Battle of Antietam and Robert E. Lees Maryland Campaign, September 1862. Baton Rouge, LA: Louisiana State University Press, 2004. Noe, Kenneth W. Perryville: This Grand Havoc of Battle. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2011. Pohanka, Brian C. Vortex of Hell: History of the 5th New York Volunteer Infantry. Lynchburg, VA: Schroeder Publications, 2012. Pooley, Andrew. "Shoo-ing the Geese: Lincoln and the Army of the Potomac, 1862-1863." Australasian Journal of American Studies 21, no.2 (2002): 86-100. Rhea, Gordon C. The Battle of the Wilderness May 5-6, 1864. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1994. Royster, Charles. The Destructive War: William Tecumseh Sherman, Stonewall Jackson, and the Americans. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1991. Sanders, Stuart W. Maney's Confederate Brigade at the Battle of Perryville, Charleston: The History Press, 2014. Sears, Stephen W. Chancellorsville. New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1996. Sears, Stephen W. Landscape Turned Red. New York: Ticknor & Fields, 1994. Sears, Stephen W. To the Gates of Richmond: The Peninsula Campaign. New York: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1992. Tucker, Phillip Thomas. Burnside's Bridge: The Climatic Struggle of the 2nd and 20th Georgia at Antietam Creek, Mechanicsburg: Stackpole Books, 2000. Volpe, Vernon L. "Dispute Every Inch of Ground": Major General Lew Wallace Commands Cincinnati, September 1862." Indiana Magazine of History 85, no. 2 (1989): 61 Von Clausewitz, Carl. On War. Translated by Colonel J.J. Graham. New York, NY: Barnes & Noble, 2004. Weigley, Russell Frank. A Great Civil War: A Military and Political History, 1861-1865. Bloomington, IN: Indiana University Press, 2004. Woodworth, Steven E. Nothing but Victory the Army of the Tennessee, 1861-1865. New York: Vintage, 2005. Primary Sources: Allan, William. The Army of Northern Virginia in 1862, Reprint: Middletown: DE, 2020. Alexander, Edward Porter. Fighting for the Confederacy: The Personal Recollections of General Edward Porter Alexander. Edited by Gary W. Gallagher, United States: The University of North Carolina Press, 2000. Battles and Leaders of the Civil War Volumes 1-4, edited by Robert Underwood Johnson, and Clarence Clough Buel. New York: The Century Company, 1885. Donaldson, Francis Adams. Inside the Army of the Potomac: The Civil War Experience of Captain Francis Adams Donaldson. Edited by J. Gregory Acken. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole Books, 1998. Fleming, Francis P. A Memoir of Captain C. Seton Fleming: of the Second Florida Infantry, C.S.A., Reprint 1985: Jacksonville: Times-Union Publishing House, 1884. Marshall, Charles. Lees Aide-De-Camp: Being the Papers of Colonel Charles Marshall Sometime Aide-De-Camp, Military Secretary, and Assistant Adjutant General on the Staff of Robert E. Lee, 1862-1865. Edited by Gary W. Gallagher, and Frederick Maurice. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2000. Newman, Simon P. "A Democrat in Lincoln's Army: The Civil War Letters of Henry P. Hubbell." The Princeton University Library Chronicle 50, no. 2 (1989): 155-68. Rhodes, Elisha Hunt. All for the Union: A History of the 2nd Rhode Island Volunteer Infantry in the War of the Great Rebellion. Edited by Robert Hunt Rhodes. Lincoln, RI: A. Mowbray, 1985. Small, Abner Ralph. The Sixteenth Maine Regiment in the War of the Rebellion, 1861-1865. London: Forgotten Books, 2015. Survivors' Association 118th (Corn Exchange) Regt., P.V., History of the Corn Exchange Regiment 118th Pennsylvania Volunteers,62. 62 United States War Department. The War of the Rebellion: A Compilation of the Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies. Vol. 19. Washington: Govt. Print. Off., 1880. Tourgée Albion W. The Story of a Thousand: Being a History of the Service of the 105th Ohio Volunteer Infantry in the War for the Union, from August 21, 1862, to June 6, 1865. Edited by Peter C. Luebke. Kent, OH: Kent State University Press, 2011.Watkins, Samuel R.Company Aytch or A Side Show of the Big Show: A Memoir of the Civil War. Edited by Ruth Hill Fulton McAllister. Nashville, TN: Turner, 2011

Issue 63.1 of the Review for Religious, 2004. This was the first issue of the Review as a quarterly publication. ; Education Objectives Human Development Eucharistic Ce~nteri~ng Saintly Models Spiritual Growth QUARTERLY 63.1 2004 Review for Religious helps people, respond and be faithful to God's universal call to holiness by making available to them the spiritual legacies that flow from the charisms of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2004 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. for religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm 'Judy Sharp Sr. Raymond Marie Gerard FSP Eugene Hensell OSB Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 63.1 2004 6 Secularism, Justice, and J~suit Higher Education-- Are They All the Same? Martin R. Tripole sJ questions the adequacy'of the justice agenda in Jesuit education and proposes to spell out the task for educators in establishing "the justice of God's kingdom" among students. 21 32 The Spiritual Development of Individuals Stanislaw Glaz SJ points out that spiritual development can proceed correctly only on the condition that we discard the illusions that we have created about our lives and likewise discard vain expectatio~ns for the future. Breaking Stereotypes Ignatius Jesudasan sJ writes about stereotypes from his Indian and Jesuit experience and calls us to reflect on our efforts to move beyond such prejudice. 40 53 A Charism Illumined: Eucharistic Anamnesis and "Viva Memoria" Hildegard Magdalen Pleva OSSR develops the crucial feature of both anamnesis and "living memory" as the ability to make past events and the person of Jesus present and active in our time. Eucharistic Devotion in the Rising Generation Randall S. Rosenberg reflects upon the desire of young people to spend time in loving contemplation and adoration of the Eucharist as a sign of growth in an integral faith life. Review for Religious 58 Teresa of Avila and Friendship Susan B. Cordsen reflects on Teresa of Avila's struggle with friendship. Teresa has much to say to us today as we struggle with what it is to be friends of Christ and friends of one another. 66 Five Faces of Rosalie Rendu Robert P. Maloney CM reflects many of the numerous new blesseds and saints of Pope John Paul's pontificate are not well known. This article attempts to acquaint readers with one of them. Growth in Faith, Hope, and Love Normandie Gaitley SSJ discovered through the setback of apparent failure and rejection God's voice in the midst of the storm calling to a deeper faith, hope, and love. 84 Mountain Caves Carolyn Humphreys OCDS describes our growth in intimacy with God through the imagery of our exeriences in entering the darkness of spiritual caves. 4 Prisms 91 Canonical Counsel: Papal Enclosure: Further Considerations 99 Book Reviews 63.1 2004 R first things first. As we begin a new year, it may be helpful to observe what is first in our lives. For example, we believe that the Eucharist is central to our living the paschal mystery. Yet we might look at whether or how it is first in our religious practice. Jesus provides us with two helps--the first, a word, and the second, an action. During the Last Supper events recorded in the synoptic Gospels, Jesus makes reference to the covenant: "This is the new covenant in my blood." Covenant, a specific agreement practice among the Middle-Eastern peoples, took on a new depth of meaning when the Israelite people understood that God had made a covenant with them] To celebrate this new relationship between God and a people he calls "peculiarly his own," the biblical covenant is sealed with the blood of a sacrificed animal. Blood--just as in out'modern-day blood transfusions--means life, not death. When the priest sprinkled blood first on the altar representing God and then on the people, this blood ritual symbolized the sharing of life between God and God's people. When Jesus says the word "This is the new covenant in my blood," he is taking the symbolic covenant of the Jewish faith and providing an undreamt-of reality to his word. In Eucharistic communion, we find ourselves given the food and drink of everlasting life. Our veins, our very bodies, our very beings are coursing with the "blood" of this new covenant of shared life, the Review for Religious Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, Son of God and Son of Mary, the new Paschal Lamb. The action Jesus performs as key to our understanding is recorded only in John's Gospel account of the Last Supper. The action is Jesus' washing of the disciples' feet. When Peter objects, Jesus replies that, if he does not wash his feet, then Peter will have no relationship with him. In the face of such a harsh consequence, Peter immediately reverses his position and desires to be washed totally clean as a guest made'welcome from the travel of dusty roads--not just his feet, but his hands and face as well. For the Johannine community and for the church in her Holy Thursday celebration, this washing of the feet dramatizes the central mystery of the Eucharist, a sharing of life, giving it away, a life-in-service--"I have given you an example," Jesus says. Eucharist, meaning celebration of holy Mass, and Eucharist, meaning the sacrament of holy communion, include both word and action. God in Jesus is speaking a word of love in sharing divine life with us, bringing us from being just God's creatures to being truly sons and daughters, members of God's family. But in Eucharist God is also involving us in his very action of sharing, and so we find ourselves moved not only, to share our life with God but also, like God, to share life with all those whom our life touches--all of them our brothers and sisters! Eucharist is key to Jesus on the cross--to pay whatever price love costs--to give over his life to God and to give over his life to us. Easter, too, finds its key in Eucharist--Jesus sharing resurrected life, his Father's gift to him, with all of us so that we too might continue to rejoice in and share this life forever. Entering into Eucharist, then, we participate in the paschal mystery, the mystery of the dying and rising of Jesus, the pattern of living the divine cost of sharing life given in love. . .David L. Fleming SJ 63.1 2004 MARTIN R. TRIPOLE ,,Secularism, Justice,. and Jesuit Higher Educationm Are They All the Same? Whether or not justice is present in Jesuit higher education seems recently to have become a mat-ter of high priority. In 2000 every Jesuit college or university in the nation was pressed to send representatives to a special conference in Santa Clara, California, to examine the extent to which justice was being promoted in the policies and curricula of Jesuit institutions, with a view to implementing stronger justice agendas. More than three hundred delegates attended. In October 2002 a follow-up gathering was held in Chicago. Conversations on Jesuit Higher Education recently devoted its entire spring 2000 issue to social justice.1 In July 2002 in Philadelphia, the fifth annual meeting of Col-leagues in Jesuit Business Education focused on "The Paradox of Globalization and Economic Justice." And an international conference on justice and globalization for. leaders in Jesuit Martin R. Tripole SJ last wrote for us in September-October 2000. His address is St. Josepl'i's University; 5600 City Avenue; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. Review for Religi.ous higher education was held in November 2002 at Santa Clara University. The perception seems to be that Jesuit higher edu-cation is not adequately committing itself to the pursuit of justice and something must be done about it. The pressure has grown to make the promotion of justice-- in an institution's mission statement and curricular offer-ings-- the litmus test for qualifying as a Jesuit institution. So much has this conjunction of justice with Jesuit edu-cation become the standard parlaffce at Jesuit institu-tions today that, when lay administrators, faculty members, and students refer to Jesuit education, they immediately identify it with the promotion of justice. In short, if your institution is not promoting justice, it is not Jesuit. Many educators question this symbiosis.of justice and Jesuit education. Is the purpose of Jesuit education to promote justice? Is it possible to fashion Jesuit edu-cation according to a justice model? Doesn't a liberal education in the Jesuit tradition have dimensions far deeper and more important? This article questions the adequacy of the justice agenda in Jesuit education, arguing from (1) the under-standing of the Jesuit mission as approved by the 34th General Congregation (GC34) of the Society of Jesus in 1995, (2) the inherent inability of the iustice agenda to .maintain the Catholic and Jesuit character of Jesuit higher education, and (3) the compelling challenges cre-ated in the world since 11 September 2001, in relation to which the justice mission falls seriously short. Justice and the Jesuit Mission at GC34 The identification of Jesuit education with the pro-motion of justice stems from the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus (GC32) in Rome in 1975. It decreed that the Jesuit mission is "the service of7 63.1 2004 Tripole * Secularism, Justice, and Jesuit Higher Ed faith, of which the promotion of justice is an absolute requirement.''2 Though the congregation never defined what it meant by justice, most commentators noted the 1960s and 1970s political- and social-activist thinking reflected in the decrees and have rightly concluded that the congregation was referring to social justice. In effect, the congregation asserted in the key for-mulation cited above that every branch of the Jesuit mis-sion had somehow to justify its existence by how it promoted justice. That was the way things stood until 1995, when GC34 was convened. One would never guess, from the continuing emphasis placed upon jus-tice today, that GC34 broadened and deepened the for-mulation of the Jesuit mission so that it now includes much more that is explicitly Christian. Though GC34's thinking included social justice,3 the justice that is linked to the service of faith is now under-stood to be the scriptural and theological understand-ing of justice as "the justice of God's kingdom,':4 The aim of our mission received from Christ. is the service of faith. The integrating principle of our mission is the inseparable link between faith and the promotion of the justice of the Kingdom. In this pre-sent congregation we want to deepen and extend, in a more explicit way, the Society's awareness of those integral dimensions of our mission to which [GC32's] Decree 4 drew attention and which are now reaching maturity in our experience and in our present min-istries. (2:14) Central'to GC34's understanding of faith and the "justice of God's kingdom" is that faith entails sharing in the church's mission of evangelization and therefore pro-claiming the gospel and bringing its teaching into every culture and society (2:15). United with Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit, and operating "within the total evangelizing mission of the church" (2:3), Jesuits are called "to promote the kingdom in all its aspects," Review for Religious including destroying the "structures of sin" and fulfilling the universal "desire to find God" and to "live by his gospel in all its implications" (2:11). The congregation, recognizing that the roots of injus-tice are to be found not only in "economic structures" but also in "cultural attitudes," explicitly states that jus-tice will "flourish" in society only when a deeper cultural transformation is achieved (2:17). Social justice is in a sense a by-product of the transforming power of "Christ's explicitly liberating presence" within history (4:8). Through inculturation, the "liberating power of the gospel" (4:3) be-comes present in every soci-ety by touching its "structural, cultural, and religious aspects with its light" (2:18). Clearly, by shifting its focus to the need to transform cultures, and integrating that effort into the church's total evan-gelizing mission, GC34 has found a deeper and mtre sat-isfying way to correct social problems than by focusing on the promotion of justice alone. Few would deny that promoting social justice is a work "integral". to the church's life. But it is another thing to assert, as GC32 seemed to do, that promoting social justice is an "absolute requirement" of every effort to serve-the gospel. Jesus seems repeatedly to have dis-tinguished the service of faith from the promotion of justice. At the beginning of his ministry, he made faith in his teaching and repentance for sin the appropriate response to the coming of tlie kingdom (Mk 1:15). He stressed the saving power of faith (Mr 9:22, Jn 3:16) and of baptism (Mk 16:14, Jn 3:5) and taught the parable of the talents (Mt 25:14-30), all without alluding to justice. And is it not fitting to proclaim the need for dis- Few would deny that promoting social justice is a work "integral" to the church's life. 9 63.1 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, 3~ustice, and yesuit Higher Ed cipleship of Christ (Mk 1:16-20), or the soteriological sig-nificance of Jesus' healing actions (see Mk 2:1-12; 3:7- 12), as well as the redemptive significance of his death and resurrection (1 Co 15), without mentioning justice? Jesus calls his disciples to a life of service of God and others. But the service Jesus intended is broader than promoting justice and does not call for such promotion unless just relations are lacking. Service, however, always calls for love. The quintessence of Christian living is found in our expression of love for one another modeled on Jesus' life of love (Jn 15:12). This love is manifested most of all in laying down one's life for another, as Jesus did On 15:13). It is promoting love, therefore, that would be the more adequate hallmark of the Jesuit mission. Jesuit and Catholic Presence in Jesuit Higher Education Understanding the Jesuit mission as inculturating the gospel has greater implications for Jesuit education than promoting justice does. According to GC34, a Jesuit university "must be out-standing in its human, social, spiritual, and moral for-mation" of student~ (17:11). Borrowing from Pedro Arrupe, superior ger~e.ral\of the Society of Jesus from 1965 to 1983, the congregation ranks, as a priority apos-tolate of the Society of Jesus, "theological reflection" upon "humanism, freedom,~ m~ss culture, economic development, and violence" (16:7). The congregation~ recalls that the early Jesuits "linked Christian catechesis to an education in classical humanism, art,and theater, to make their students versed both in faith and in cul-ture" (4:10), and specifically affirms that in the educa-tional apostolate Jesuits "have a special role to play in linking Christian faith" to contemporary movements in culture (4:28). The justice mission is not broad enough to handle these goals. Review for Religious In the light of GC34's understanding of the Jesuit mission, we would do well to examine the findings of "Jesuit Education 21," the last major conference on Jesuit higher education in the United States. Held at St. Joseph's University in June 1999, the conference brought together over three hundred laypersons and Jesuits from around the world, with more than eighty presentations made by prominent educators. A close examination of the conference proceedings5 indicates much of what is troubling Jesuit higher education today. They show that more is needed to restore the Jesuit and Catholic char-acter of Jesuit institutions than promoting justice can provide. Though their concerns were distinctly pro-Jesuit and pro-Catholic, the participants never came to a consensus on what being Jesuit and Catholic means or how Jesuit and Catholic values, whatever they might be, can be pre-served. A reviewer of the published proceedings called them "fascinating" and "indisl~ensabl~e' readin_g, yet admitted he could not conclude fro---~-~hem_ what Jesuit education stood for.6 This inability to state with clarity what it means to be Jesuit and Cath_olic_may reflect an erosion of identity already underway in Jesui_~t and Catholic colleges and universities. The proceedings provide good grounds tofear that the secularization that oc~ in many Pro___testant schools in the early 20th-century is well under___way at Jesuit and other Catholic institutions as_w__ell.____A basis for this view may be found, for exa--m-~le, in ~he distinction admissions recruiters.have frequency_ drawn-between Jesuit values and Catholic ide~-~ity. Many_ said they emphasize the former and do.wnpla._y or ignore the latter as a matter of policy. But why?-The distinction, they said, enabled them to iden6fy Jesuit schools to potential applicants as institutions promoting humanistic values, rather than as schools fostering Catholic identity. The 11 63.1 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, Justice, and Jesuit Higher Ed effect was to make being Jesuit distinguishable from belonging to the Catholic Church. That recruiters make such a distinction as part of their effort to appeal to potential students may indicate how ingrained among students as well as among recruiters secularization has already become. The erosion of Catholic identity may be even more evident in the hiring of new faculty members increas-ingly for their professional competence and their sup-port of humanistic values rather than for an interest in fostering a Catholic culture on the campus. One admin-istrator at the conference, bluntly admitted without com-ment or apology that Jesuit institutions will no longer accept support for the Catholic mission as a factor to be considered in the hiring of new faculty. He argued that Jesuit distinctiveness is now identified with humanistic values such as seeing the world, as sacramental, showing love by deeds, and searching for ultimate meaning, and that, when the Jesuit character is understood that way, "Jesuit education can and will thrive independently of the fortunes of the institutional Catholic Church." He went on to say that, "if you were to tell faculty tomorrow to 'hire for mission' with an emphasis on Catholic rather than, or over and above, Jesuit, I know what will hap-pen . The present faculty simply will. not do it" (Francis Fennell, Proceedings, p. 446). The peremptory nature of these remarks indicates how difficult it would be to reverse the trend toward secular humanism, for the faculty are the primary decision makers for hiring in their departments. Deeper theological roots of secular humanism may be found in the increasing acceptance of a principle never accepted by the Catholic Church, that faith is a private matter. This perspective includes relegating faith matters to the theology department and campus.ministry, rather than considering a Catholic culture something all Uni- Review for Religious versity personnel can share in. Theology departments, however, eager to be accepted as legitimately academic and hospitable to pluralistic thinking, are increasingly reluctant to identify themselves with matters of faith, thereby adding to the alienation of faith from the life of the institution (Avery Dulles, Proceedings, pp. 168-169). Does Promoting Justice Foster Secularism? Jesuits may themselves have much to do with this incursion of secularism into Jesuit universities, for an identification of Jesuit values with secular humanism has been widely accepted in Jesuit circles. The favored jar-gon for what Jesuit products should be--"men and women for others"--would be an acceptable character-ization of ideal products of any secular university. Are there any institutions in favor of self-centered graduates who want to promote injustice? The common phrase makes it difficult to distinguish a good secular humanist from a good graduate of any Jesuit institution. Jesuit spirituality promotes "finding God in all things." The principle, admirable in itself and valuable for people who wish to implement their faith, is problematic when put into the hands of secular humanists, since it allows not only faith in any god whatsoever, but also the marginal-ization of the true God over against a quasi-sacral aura that envelops all things. Support for secularization has unwittingly come from equating the Jesuit mission with the promotion of justice, an equation that can be made even when faith is absent~ Such an equation allows the reduction of the Christian faith to secularly acceptable standards and makes what is specific to being Catholic optional: belief in the triune God, commitment to Jesus Christ, and fidelity to the church and its teachings. When, therefore, Jesuit edu-cation understands its mission as promoting justice, someone must ask: Is such a mission capable of preserv- 13 63.1 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, 3°~stice, and Jesuit Higher Ed ing the Catholic character of our institutions? It would seem not. The promotion of justice is put on a par with other advocacy movements-- not life-altering efforts, but efforts that fit into the little compartment in our lives that supports Charitable causes. Catholic Identity and the Lives of Our Students The justice-advocacy movement has the weakness of being normally integrated into the larger framework of self-identity, even when it is most effective. The promotion of justice is put on a par with other advocacy movements-- not life-altering efforts, but efforts that fit into the little compartment in our lives that supports charitable causes. We contribute to the muscular dystrophy program on Labor Day, our hearts go out to Michael J. Fox and his cam-paign for curing Parkinson's disease, the more youthful among us dance the night away to seek financial contri-butions for the fight against AIDS--but afterwards we return to the secular aims and purposes that motivate our humdrum daily lives. Self-chosen secular aims and agendas are not likely to be altered much by participation in special advocacy movements, for many students take it for granted that in any case the measure of success is the worldly standard of money, power, and reputation. Against such a back-drop, advocacy causes fulfill the contribution to human-ity that political correctness and secularized Christianity deem necessary for those who would be model citizens and good Christians, but they do not call for renouncing worldly values in the ways that Christ proposed in his Sermon on the Mount. Review for Religious Reducing Jesuit education to a justice syndrome, then, is inadequate. In order to work, such a syndrome would need to be integrated into a life-altering motivating prin-ciple. In seeking to make our students eager simply to pursue social justice, we fail to provide them with the Christian rationale for being committed to such activity. The rationale that the older generation of Catholics accepts as a Christian truism--that sharing a common humanity should make human beings concerned for the welfare of others--cannot be taken for granted in our students. Many of them operate on a sense of worth the root of which is their aggressive pursuit of self-interest. For them, being a "person for others" is a sop for the weak and sentimental. Many people thought that 1960s altruism would of itself promote everywhere an array of humanistic values consistent with the goals of Chris-tianity. We now know that this did not happen. Only faith in Jesus Christ can bring in its train the life-altering principles dynamic enough for consistent and truly humanistic, humane, human activity. Reducing Christianity to a sort of social justice makes faith appear redundant and irrelevant (when in fact full Christian faith is central). Identifying Jesuit education with pro-moting .justice caters to this seeming redundancy and calls into question any need for any sort of Catholic edu-cation and any Christianity that demands a faith com-mitrnent to Jesus Christ. It is not accidental that, as years pass, our students are less and less inclined to call them-selves Catholic or practice a Christian way of life. In effect, they have been programmed by a system that has made Christian commitment and Catholic living mar-ginal or obsolete. Justice and Ignatius's Educational Goals ls an education geared to the promotion of justice consistent with St. Ignatius's goals? Many do not think so. 63. I 2004 Tripole * Secularism, Justice, and yesuit Higher Ed Surely no one disputes that Ignatius supported the integration of the virtue of justice into the lives of stu-dents at Jesuit institutions. In a letter written to his nephew Antonio de Araoz in 1551, Ignatius indicates that education in Jesuit sch'ools should lead to positions of influence for the good of society--either in specifically Christian activity, such as being a priest, or in govern-mental and other administrative positions of~authority. He specifically mentions that persons educated in Jesuit schools may benefit society by taking on roles in "the administration of justice." But Ignatius never saw such activity as intrinsically self-motivating. Whatever field of endeavor graduates might enter, they were to be moti-vated by the desire for "God's greater service" and that of "Christ, our eternal salvation." 7 George E. Ganss shows, in his classic study Saint Ignatius' Idea of a Jesuit University,s that Ignatius under-stood his goals for the education of non-Jesuft students as part and parcel of the Christian life envisioned in his Spiritual Exercises. There Ignatius indicates that human beings are "created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by means of doing this to save their souls," and that everything else is created for them for these purposes.9 That same outlook on life is °brought to bear upon Part Four of Ignatius's Constitutions, which treats of the goals of his colleges (high schools) and universi-ties: "The end of the Society [of Jesus] and of its stud-ies is to aid our fellowmen to the knowledge and love of God and to the salvation of their souls." Since Ignatius saw the study of theology as "the means most suitable to this end," he declared that "principal emphasis ought to be put upon it.''l° Ganss argues, however, that the inculcation of Christian values was not left simply to the work of the-ology professors, but was integral to the life of the entire university.~l For Ignatius, all of life is brought into focus Review for Religio us through a personal encounter with Jesus Christ and a commitment to Christ's mission by sharing in the paschal mystery of his death and resurrection. It would have been unthinkable~ for Ignatius to set up educational insti-tutions without orienting them and their students toward this same encounter and mission. Jesuit Education after 11 September 2001 Perhaps the most serious question to be asked of advocates of justice education is whether their agenda, in the light of the events of 9/11 and the gravity of the priest sex-abuse scandal, meets the chal-lenge of our time. The roots of the horrendous actions of the Middle East terrorists on that September day may be found on many different levels--economic, social, cultural, and religious. Surely an enlightened awareness of the inadequacy of the attempts of the United States to promote justice throughout the world needs to be brought to bear upon the kind of response we make. But, whether one is Palestinian or Israeli, European or American, Democrat or Republican, the issue is not whether to promote justice (who is in favor of being unjust?), but how to discern and implement practical methods that will satisfy people's yearnings for justice and peace. Faith does not endow Christian educators with the ability to discern what such methods might be--they continue to elude the best of political-scientists of whatever faith-- The issue is not whether to promote justice (who is in favor of being unjust ?), but how to discern and implement practical methods that will satisfy people's yearnings for justice and peace. 17 63.1 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, Justice, and Jesuit Higher Ed but it does provide a motive for see,king the best of meth-ods and choosing honestly the most,prudent moral action. The issues on the table since the'attacks of 9/11 are fundamental. The very survival of humanity seems to be at stake. It would be naive and platitudinous for Christian educators to think they have made their specific contri-bution merely by calling for the promotion of justice. The stakes are far too high, the dimensions of the prob-lem too great, for talk on that level to be adequate. The world has a right to expect more from people of faith. The sex scandal among the clergy also calls for a major rethinking of what it means to be a disciple of Christ. If those who have been singled out by the church to be model artisans of a new humanity have instead become instruments of dehumanization, more is de-manded to correct .the situation than a call for justice. To respond to the demands of our day, Christians are being called to a thorough reformation of their lives--abandoning self-interest and recentering their lives in the Christ who renounced himself on the cross for the salvation of the world. Christians must become persons who are themselves transformed and are at work revamping the human psyche so that it is motivated no longer by secular and material drives alone. The goal is a transformation of culture so that the person of Christ and the pattern of his life will willingly be accepted as the ideal of what it means to be human. What other efforts could Christians be expected to make? The mission for Catholic and Jesuit educators today is to go all the way or not go at all. What we need to promote is not simply justice, but a new visiofi of humanity where God's Spirit is recognized as the power driving generous and beneficial human action, rather than as optional or marginal to it, Our goal cannot merely be social justice, but the justice that destroys the Review for Religious demonic forces of the world, restores community between the human race and God, and ennobles human dignity by seeing it as a sharing in divine life. Our goal must be to spread the fire that Jesus came to earth to ignite, brightening people's minds and warming their hearts (Lk 12:49). This is what our students need to receive in our schools. The task for educators in Jesuit universities is to establish "the justide of God's kingdom" among our stu-dents. Instead of equating the Lucan principle "Blessed are the poor" with a call for economic and political jus-tice, we need to hear the Matthean principle "Blessed are the poor in spirit," which calls us to walk humbly with the Lord so that in the Spirit we can create even on earth the life of his kingdom. Doing that, we may even succeed in showing terrorists that Christ is the redeemer of the world and that faith in him is the very way to God and to wholeness and peace in human relationships. Notes ~ Conversations on Jesuit Higher Education 19 (Spring 2001), "After Justice." 2 Decree 4, "Our Mission Today: The Service of Faith and the Promotion of Justice," §2, in Documents of the 31st and 32rid General Congregations of the Society of Jesus, ed. John W. Padberg SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977). 3 Indeed, GC34 devotes an entire document to the social-justice agenda: Decree 3, "Our Mission and Justice," in Documents of the Thirty-Fourth General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, ed. John L. McCarthy SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1995). 4 Decree 2, "Servants of Christ's Mission," §11, of GC34. Hereafter references to the documents of this congregation are noted in the text thus: (2:11). 5 Jesuit Education 21: Conference Proceedings on the Future of Jesuit Higher Education, ed. Martin R. Tripole SJ (Philadelphia: St. Joseph's University, 2000). References are noted in the text. 6 Dennis O'Brien, "How to Be Loyal to Loyola," Commonweal 128, no. 8 (20 April 2001): 26. 19 63. I 2004 Tripole ¯ Secularism, Justice, and yesuit Higher Ed 7 To Antonio de Araoz, On the ministry of Christian education, I December 1551, in George E. Ganss SJ, Ignatius of Loyola: The Spiritual Exercises and Selected Works (New York: Paulist Press, 1991), pp. 361-365 at 362 and 365 (letter selected and translated by Martin E. Palmer SJ). 8 George E. Ganss sJ, Saint Ignatius' ldea of a Jesuit University (Milwaukee: Marquette University Press, 1956). 9 The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius, trans, and ed. George E. Ganss SJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1992), §23. ~0 St. Ignatius of Loyola, The Constitutions of the Society of Jesus, trans, and ed. George E. Ganss gJ (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), Part 4, chap. 12, no. 1 (§446; emphasis added). The nature of the university was different in Ignatius's day, to be sure, yet there is no reason to think that Ignatius would alter the content of this statement, even if it were directed to the Jesui~ university of today. 11 Ganss, Saint lgnatius'Idea, pp. 176-178. Song of the Thistle You brought me forth on the parched prairie where Russian thistles rolled and were caught against fences. And I like a thistle am still on a roll fencing with frustrations, but you don't leave me stuck to the wires now as you didn't then. I am still a tumbling weed that survived the dirty "thirties rolled fast by the Wind this day. Somewhere along the Way I am scattering seeds that may yet become shrubs or trees, something more than thistles and tumbling weeds. Mary Alban Bouchard CSJ Review for Religious STANISLAW GLAZ The Spiritual Development of Individuals Psychology shows us that, in the spiritual life of Christians who strive to keep the command-ments, much falsehood and aggression may go unnoticed. Sins we are not conscious of may be hidden in our soul. For sin is not only breaking a few specific commandments an&admitting some of the peccadilloes on a catechism list. There is sin when 'people neglect their own growth and ignore their life's purpose as deter-mined by God and by nature's laws of develop-ment. Anger and theft, are often the result of a sin, the sin of being immature, of not growing apace with one's years. If we want to grow, we have to be in contact with ourselves and with God. A lack of personal development leads to inner compulsions to hurt ourselves and others, as a way of believing in our own strength and showing it: We feel weak and humiliated, and then we choose to do harm in order to feel our own vitality. Stanislaw Glaz SJ is professor of psychology at the University "Ignatianum," where the address is: ul. Kopernika 26; 31-501 Krakow; Poland. 21 63.1 2004 Glaz ¯ The Spiritual Development of lndividuals Members of the clergy, psychologists, and theologians often ask what should be done to foster people's spiritual growth and thereby foster their personality development as well. What are the essential conditions for proper development and growth? As answers to questions like this one, I plan to share some of my pastoral experience of the last few years. I will point out several factors, often unconscious ones, that influence people's spiritual development in either constructive or destructive ways. One cannot name everything thht can benefit spiritual development. Many psychologists and theologians have tried to show elements helping such development, but those they have mentioned concern mainly the ascetic and theological aspects. Today the psychology of spirituality~ offers more such factors than earlier theology could offer. Reconciliation with Oneself and with Others Many psychologists believe that, before people can love their enemy, they have to learn to love the enemy in themselves. They have to effect a reconciliation between hostile elements in themselves. To the end of their lives, people retain certain personal imperfections. They need to admit their aggressive and murderous tendencies, their inclinations towards iealousy, fear, sadness, loneliness, and other emotions. It is often more difficult for us to love the enemy in ourselves than the external enemy. We must allow the sun of God's love and benevolence to shine on and into our entire being, including all that is dark and threatening and everything that is odd, awkward, or inept. Then the light of love will transform the evil (Powell 1978). A sense of guilt is often caused by a lack of rec-onciliation with oneself, a failure to face one's own truth. Psychologists say that the sense of guilt is often necessary. In providing a chance to learn the truth about one's self, it Review for Religious can be a blessing or a curse. People with a negative attitude towards their sense of guilt are not able to accept the history of their life. They rebel at the fact that they were brought up in this or that way, were born .at this or that moment of history, were not in a position to realize their dream--that they experienced deep wounds. They blame their parents and society for not giving them the opportunity for normal development. They choose to see themselves as victims, rather than accept their situation, their wounds, their limited range of experience. They must understand that their parents and neighbors did not set these limits (perceived wrongly as constraints) intentionally, but only as the unavoidable result of similar limits and perceptions in their' own lives. Thus it is necessary that people evaluate the world by new principles (Sovernigo 1990, pp. 221-223). Reconciliation with oneself plays an important role in the spiritual development of human beings. We need to accept the person we became, to accept--along with our talents---our handicaps and weaknesses, our vulnerability, our fears, and our dallying perseverance. We must look at all that we do not Jike in ourselves, at everything we would rather not see, at our low esteem. This is ~a lifelong process. We endlessly discover in ourselves things ~that are new to us. We have to accept it all, including our own incompleteness. We must account for everything in .our lives that we excluded or rejected because it did not fit in our favorite image of ourselves, an idealized and untrue picture. We must admit that, besides the love and friendliness in our souls, there also are such feelings as hatred, anger, A sense ofguilt is often caused by a lack of reconciliation with oneself, a failure to face one's own truth. 23 63.1 2004 Glaz ¯ Tbe Spiritual Development of Individuals depression, and fear; not only brave and unselfish yearnings, but also godless spheres that want to remain undisturbed and unchanged. If we do not face the full truth about our patterns of emotion and thought and behavior, we project them unconsciously on others. Facing the full truth of our life till now means more than glancing at it superficially. It requires great courage. It requires giving up our ideal image of ourself (Laing 1969). Life in Accordance with Love Happy people are~not those who can either solve their own problems or ignore them. Happy people are people aware of their value as persons living their own unique lives, being themselves, loving others and letting others love them in their limitedness. Love assumes the need of self-control, which starts with awareness of our own feelings, thoughts, and behaviors. Love is both the skill and the wish to allow the loved ones to be who they want to be, without any insisting that they meet our own expectations. How much love we can offer to others depends on the love we have for ourselves. We are all unique. We should love our own selves, and our self-esteem should not be directly affected by our limitations and faults. Neither our current behavior, nor the behavior of others towards us, nor our feelings are the gauge of our own value, which is constant. People often evaluate themselves by .the definition of beauty and by role models put forward by the surrounding culture. Such self-evaluations are the origin of false selves that commandeer the true selves that people are given once and forever (Griin 1999, Mellody 1992). People have their genuine selves, which are the core of who they are, their essence, their spiritual entity. It is there that God is present, where their fears and sufferings do not penetrate. People who allow their own true self, their spiritual self, to direct their actions make of their Review for Religious soul a secure citadel where God lives and freedom reigns. This inner sphere is invulnerable. One can never be deprived of this intrinsic dignity. But one needs to discover it and to experience God as the foundation of all existence, of all human lives. God gives me life, and God sustains me in it. My value does not depend on passing an exam, nor on the judgment of others. It depends on my being who I am. God wants me to be myself. My value comes from no one but God. My value is my privilege (Powell 1978). The Way of Experiencing Faith Faith is not only the teaching of the church, it is not only the spiritual dimension, but it is also the proper perception of reality, the proper perception of God, of other people, and of myself. It is the art of a sane life, the art of trustful judgment of myself, of handling myself appropriately. Faith is the way to freedom. It is trust in God. It is conviction that God touches tenderly each sphere of my being, that his grace reaches all of the human soul in order to bring the light of his life there. Faith allows me to share with God all my mysteries. Faith is conviction that through Christ and in Christ human beings gained participation in God's life and that all of creation is permeated by God (Grfin 1980). True love depends not only on being free from an external sovereign, from the power of this world, and from the authority of another person, but also on being free from internal compulsions. Some ~limitations of our freedom may be occasioned by inherited behavioral tendencies. My freedom is limited when I do not know God, when I lower my self-esteem, when I create a false image of another person, when I follow slavishly the role models given to me by my parents, when I let myself be controlled by fear of loneliness, or when my perception of life and the world, is false. 63.1 2004 Glaz * The Spiritnal Development of Individuals Destructive Elements Spiritual development proceeds step by step. Many people, even when considerably along on their° spiritual iourney, may do things that impede their progress. Psychologists have tried to discover these hindrances and evaluate their consequences in both sociological and developmental terms. In their religious and social lives, numbers of people have a rigorous attitude towards themselves. The roots of such an attitude may be numerous and deep in people's unconscious. These roots may form when children do not experience unconditional love or when their parents do not treat them seriously in terms of their own self. Then the children are likely to be deeply wounded and fail to experience themselves as distinct and unique beings. According to many psychologists, their primal sense of security is injured; in other words, the children feel fundamentally unloved. Their self, their sense of the "me, who I am" is hurt, damaged, rejected by the very persons they needed to accept them unconditionally. After being treated in this way, children may react violendy against the people around them or against themselves. Such behavior is likely to bring some kind of punishment on them. Later, growing up, they may similarly punish themselves. This injustice and violence is likely to be .at the root of future violence and cruelty in the world (Gri.in 1997a). Upbringing becomes destructive when it fosters one side only, for example, only male aspects of personality like toughness and audacity, and depreciates sensitive feelings. Such treatment convinces a boy that his own and others' feelings are not important. Aggression towards the external world always corresponds with resentment towards oneself. The lack of love causes children to be fearful. They fear rejection, loneliness, and life itself. They desperately try not to disappoint their parents. They see exaggerated rigidity as a way of gaining their Review for Religious parents' love. Having no support from their inner self (for it is not developed yet), the children try to create support by imposing clear and sharp demands on themselves. Such severe attitudes towards themselves are efforts to overcome the deeply rooted fear resulting from the absence of parental warmth and acceptance. Such children do not trust themselves or others because they do not feel the support of a stable and clear relationship with their parents, nor the support of good pedagogical rules and guidelines. They are filled with suspicion and doubt, and so they perceive other people as untrustworthy and threatening. Feeling a similar vague mistrust of themselves, they seek to overcome it by sticking strictly to their own clear norms (Powell 1969). They feel well. only on the condition that they fulfill certain ideals. Their sense of their own value depends on whether people describe them as perfect children or not. They identify with "model" children so strongly that they cannot tolerate any deviation from that ideal.VV-henever they learn .that something they did was a mistake, they make their self-imposed rules and rituals more severe and uncompromising, But if persons force themselves to fit their ideals, they only torture themselves. They think that God expects them to be ideal constantly, that they should always be kind and open to others, forgetting self always. But that is not God's will; it is their own self-imposed "ideal," which often serves solely to gratify themselves, their own expectations and ambitions (Griin 1997). Lack of Love of Oneself Such an "ideal" appears mosdy in our ideal image of ourselves. We cannot accept that God created us to be who we are. We think that our imaginary idea of ourselves is more important than God's will. We do not try to develop all that God gave us; we do not accomplish numerous real possibilities in our lives. In our minds we27 63.1 2004 Glaz * The Spiritual Development of Individuals have ready pictures of ourselves deriving either from our parents and official and unofficial teachers or from own ambitions, our dreams of being some kind of hero or heroine. We may think, then, that we can do almost everything without any help from anybody. We may believe we can form the world as we wish and that we have no need to take into account the order given to the world by God. Many of us assume that we can achieve our hopes and ambitions by some kind of force. Before God this may indicate both a lack of humility and a failure to give God due respect. ~ People who push themselves higher than they are supposed to go land finally in their own prison. Resisting God is resisting life. It does damage to oneself. The egoism in people's drive towards self-actualization often leads away from love of their neighbor. It is in their work that they look for their identity and value, because they have failed to find value in themselves as God's beloved creation[ Such people have trouble admitting that they can. and do make mistakes. They look for ways to gloss over the evidences of their errors. They may push a miscalculated plan to a regrettable conclusion (provided they :do not appear responsible for it) rather than admit the wrongness of their initial decision. Their fear of anyone's negative opinion of them is stronger than their fear of doing damage: What will happen if others know how weak and fallible I am? And so they create and take on problems for other people, overestimating their own ability to control the damage. Such people lack balance. Their thought is all-or-nothing: If I do not achieve greatly at all costs, I am empty and dull, a nothing (Sovernigo 1990, pp. 228-229). Misunderstood Asceticism ~. A sound asceticism is characterized by a positive attitude towards ourselves. Its role is giving support to Review for Religious us--although people often think of it as rejecting pleasure and inhibiting our drives. The idea is the affirmation and development of life, not its negation. Unhealthy asceticism often includes a deficient image of God, which in turn may cause insensitivity and destructive desires, aspects of perfectionism. Perfectionists try to be like God. They create a system of compulsions, of detailed principles and commands. Adhering to that system and enlarging it becomes their goal in life. They deprive themselves of any pleasure; they live solely to sacrifice. They do not let themselves have any happiness because it will not last and then they will feel all the worse. They want, on their own, to get rid of anything negative in themselves. They do not trust God. They do not believe that somehow everything will make sense, that God can positively transform even what is negative in their lives. All they have to do is let God into their lives, their souls. The religious attitude of those people contains a lot of disbelief in the goodness of humanity. It assumes that people are good only when they are doing things, such as saying as many prayers as possible. Only fi solid faith in the true God brings the kind of trust that people need in order to live heaolthy and constructive lives without fearfulness. People who do not put trust in God's unconditional love for them have trouble in coping with guilt, which is present even in people who strive always to be good. People without trust in God do not understand what Jesus' carrying our cross and our carrying some of it with him are all about. They live stubbornly according to their own ideals, and their lives become rigid. Their suppressed and unmet needs attack them and appear as neurotic behavior. Perfectionists A sound asceticism is characterized by a positive attitude towards ourselves. 29 63.1 2004 Glaz ¯ The Spiritual Development of Individuals demand of themselves that their lives be altogether free of shallow or untrue motives. Such asceticism becomes a process of self-destruction (Sovernigo 1990, pp. 233-237). It seems, then, that spiritual development can proceed correctly only on the condition that we discard the illusions that we have created about our lives and likewise discard vain expectations for the future. One of those illusions is that we can create our own justice, love, and truth. And yet we have been transformed by Christ, we are called to a new life, called to a full development. To live that new life means to live in accordance with our innermost calling, not surrendering to expectations and demands that we ourselves or other people mistakenly impose on us. It means allowing God to create us and form us. Living by the Spirit's guidance and power means freedom from compulsion to prove our own value. It means life based on gratitude for all that we have been given by God. The aim of life is acceptance of that inner, spiritual reality which God gave us, which he gave us with love and in truth. The aim of life is being and living that reality and discovering the beauty of being, each of us, our individual selves, discovering and showing our original faces, faces given to us by God. Bibliography Albisetti, Valerio. 1991. Per esserefelici. Milano: Edizioni Paoline. Griin, Anselm. 1980. Lebensmitte als Geistlicbe Aufgabe. Benediktinerabtei Mfinsterschwarzach. Griin, Anselm. 1996. Glauben als Umdeuten glauben--lieben--loben. Benediktinerabtei Miinsterschwarzach. Griin, Anselm. 1997. Gut mit sicb selbst umgeben. Mainz: Matthias- Griinewald-Verlag. Griin, Anselm. 1997a. Tu dir docb nicbt selber web. Mainz: Matthias- Griinewald-Verlag. Griin, Anselm. 1999. lm Haus der Liebe wobnen. Stuttgart: Kreuz Verlag. Laing, Ronald D. 1998. L'lo diviso. Turin: Einaudi. Review for Religious Mellody, Pia. 1992. Facing Love Addiction: Giving Yourself the Power to Change the Way You Love. HarperSanFrancisco. Powell, John. 1969. Why Am I Afraid to Tell You Who I Am? Mien, Texas: Thomas More Association. Powell, John. 1978. Unconditional Love. Chicago: Thomas More Publishers. Sovernigo, Giuseppe. 1990. Religione e persona: psicologia dell' esperienza religiosa. Bologna: EDB. Nothing Is Lost That's what the fossils teach, leaves pressed to carbon traces, footprints cast in pudding stone, a dinosaur with feet smaller than my hand. Nothing is lost, not even what we cannot find a trace of. Firm under our feet, those old lives live on, in new forms, rock and root, awareness of what we are and have come from. Once a mind opens, thelight is there; it cannot close. Knowledge grows and we see what we could not, learn what needed light to be clear, like seeds long still in sand till the rain softens the dark, and green horns seep through the grains toward the sun. Nothing is lost. Everything feeds on, is formed from the past. And so shall we be, someday: seed and loam for what will come. Doretta Cornell RDC 31 63.1 2004 IGNATIUS JESUDASAM Breaking Stereotypes Reality is changing constantly. Stereotypes do not. Therefore they are unreal, products of the emo-tion and imagination of individuals and groups that have a vested interest in maintaining and perpetuating illu-sions. Stereotypes are born of fear or perception of threat. They go with and generate the negative attitudes of closed minds and hearts, keeping people stuck in their prejudice. Every group has experience of stereotypes. India abounds in them--a reason why we do not progress as much as we could. Our stereotypes make us our own worst enemies. The great national task in this context is to break the stereotypes in our minds by seeing and recognizing reality, which changes and has changed from the last time that we took a look at it. What follows is an example set by a minority group, without a conscious design to break stereotypes, nor claiming to be nor setting itself up as a model of stereotype breaking. This group just did something natural. Spontaneity is the natural way to break stereotypes, which are unnatural and antinatural. One has only to watch that stereotypes do not become second nature. Ignatius Jesudasan SJ wrote this from Loyola School; Uthiramerur; 603 406 India. Review for Religious Jesuits are a worldwide and well-known male religious order and organizational network in the Roman Catholic Church. Although they are generally known by the quality of their educational institutions, they are involved in and committed to many other endeavors too. They are a missionary order; they are always to be in a state of mission, of being sent. It is in this sense that the church itself is missionary. It understands itself as being sent into the whole world by Jesus Christ, who himself was sent here by God, whom .he called Father. In other words, Christ is not for himself, but for others. The church is not supposed to be for itself, but for the world. Christians is not supposed to be for themselves, but for others. Gandhi's vision of India was something similar. His self-image and life and action manifested the same spirit. Is this something wrong? Is it not the way that everyone is supposed to be? Where then is the problem? It is in this sense of mission and being missionary--in this stereotypemthat Christians and Christian organizations have caught the attention of the Indian majority mind and consciousness. As an avant-garde organization in the Catholic Church, the Jesuits and their diverse works are not free from the stereotype. Even Gandhi was not free from it. Regarding the church and its missionaries, is the stereotype well founded? Stereotype as Prejudice. Stereotyping is people's habit of assuming that they know what in fact they do not know. It is pretending to know. If my etymology is correct, "pretend," from the Latin roots prae and tendere, means to hold out in front, to stretch forth, to put forzvard a falsehood, a mask, an empty faqade. It means to assert as real what reality denies. In life we are often involved in such contradictions, or koans as Zen masters name them. We hold what we do not hold, and know what we do not know. We do not know 63.1 2004 Jesudasam * Breaking Stereotypes Since stereotypes are founded on people's ignorance and on bigots" exploitation of that ignorance, the first and best remedy is to get to know those about whom stereotypes exist. that we do not know. In other words, we lie to and deceive others or ourselves; or else we may not know enough to be able and willing to admit and correct our ignorance. And this is what bias or prejudice is. It is judgment before knowing or hearing the case. We indulge in it because we are cocksure of our rightness. And this sense of rightness is not all wrong. Prejudices have their roots in positive or negative emotions like love and hatred, or attraction and repulsion. Behind love and hatred, and attraction and repulsion, there may be many layers of knowledge and experience. What knowledge and experience do large numbers of Indian people have of Christians that cause them to dislike or feel uneasy about them? They "know" that the church and Christians are missionary, and they take it to mean converting others to their faith and worldview. They see such conversion as a loss to Hinduism and a gain to Christianity. This is why ethnoreligiously conscious Hindus, which secular Hindus are not, perpetuate the stereotype about Christian education, Christian social work, Christian medical work, and what have you. No one asks whether the schools and colleges do it, or the other good works do it. No factual statistics substantiate the prejudice against Christians. People take no surveys among Christians or even non- Christians about conversion facts, efforts, or even conscious intentions before adopting or retaining or rejecting these stereotypes. Review for Religious Stereotypes and prejudices are not good for any group or nation, and are positively harmful to them, for they divide, scatter, and waste their precious emotional energy resources and capacities for constructive development. India's emotional unity is affected by the prejudice directed from any community towards any other community on whatever basis, be it language, religion, caste, state, or locality. It is therefore in the national interest to remove every bias, prejudice, and stereotype that any individual or community has about any other individual or community. Since stereotypes are founded on people's ignorance and on bigots' exploitation of that ignorance, arousing mass phobia regarding the ethnically different, the first and best remedy is to get .to know those about whom stereotypes exist. It is probably with this in mind that Jesus spoke with authority to his fellow Jews: "I tell you: Love your enemies, do good to them, and pray for those who persecute you." This is good advice for any nation, and certainly not bad for India. Bias-breaking Spirituality Breaking stereotypes is therefore a social, psychological, national, and spiritual service. One may engage in it consciously or not. I see an example of unconscious stereotype breaking in a small document published recently by the Indian Jesuits, containing a summary of a week-long meeting of South Asian Jesuits held recently at Mumbai to plan a course of action for the coming years. The document is called "Action Statement of the Jesuits for Living and Sharing the Good News in South Asia." The title might strengthen the suspicion already present in the minds of the prejudiced, but the actual document will show how far it is from being sectarian propaganda material. The document was not produced 6"3.1 2004 yesudasam ¯ Breaking Stereotypes for public consumption or propaganda. It is meant solely to inspire, enlighten, and direct Jesuits in their various endeavors. The Vatican and the bishops might not appreciate it, but it was not written with them in view either. Christianity as Humanism It reads pretty much like a religiously secular document. Religious faith and social commitment are nowhere camouflaged. Faith, what the meeting's delegates believe in, is the source of their motivation. Sharing this faith is the purpose of all their activity and involvement. But neither that faith nor their activity is sectarian or divisive in purpose or practice. Christian terminology is used, which is unavoidable. But it is neither propaganda, nor propagandist in intent. It is inspirational for the group, and is not directed against any other group or the common good. Denominational religious conversion does not figure in it at all, not even as a hidden agendum. All the same, personal and cultural transformation, respect for every individual and group, and human dignity, equality, and fellowship stand out as serious social concerns. The document deplores absence or shadowy presence in the culture of the land. But, instead of accusing and finding fault with the culture, it calls for struggle and sacrifice to bring about desirable change in social patterns, The realities of globalization, religious fundamen-talism, and ethnic nationalism are recognized as aggravating the social conflicts in South Asia. The confusion of values in the fast-changing society (youth falling prey to alcohol, drugs, cults, sects, violence, and sexual exploitation), gender discrimination, and the commoditization of women and of labor are clearly focused upon. Civil liberties, human rights, environ-mental concerns, community-building techniques, and Review for Religious human solidarity are seen as signs of hope even amid the conflicts and tensions. Church as National Social Service Several areas of Jesuit involvement in South Asia are reviewed and planned for. They are education, parish ministry, interreligious dialogue, youth formation, social action for empowerment of women, Dalits, and tribals, and finally Jesuits' accountability to themselves and one another. Jesuit education is open to all, but especially to the poor, the Dalits, tribals, and women. Basics of all religions and problems regarding social justice, the environment, and human rights are to find a place in Jesuit curricula. Jesuit education is to serve the full human development of the weak and the marginalized and thereby help bring about social equality. There is to be remedial education in the schools and socially relevant research at higher levels. Even the formation of Christians is given a more social than religious thrust and direction. Basic Christian communities are to blossom into basic human communities imbued with the gospel values. In a male-dominant patriarchal church and society, the document asserts the need to discover the feminine in every person and in this way change one's own mindset and enhance one's way of relating to God, the world, humankind, and all creation. It asserts the need to include women in church decisions and priestly formation, and to take up women's issues in social action. The document calls for focus on the liberative dimension of cultural symbols, language, myths, and festivals. It calls for addressing religious fundamentalism, including Christian funda-mentalism. On the side of tribals, they support traditional rights to forestland, water, and habitat, and unity in tribal diversity. On behalf of the much-fractured Dalits, the document propounds standing up for their dignity as 63.1 2004 ~esudasam ¯ Breaking Stereotypes God's children, opposing caste discriminations, working for equal respect for each man and woman, and working preferentially with and for the most marginalized of the Dalits, irrespective of their religion. In social action the meeting's delegates want to share the struggles of the poor for a fuller life, to educate the illiterate, to organize domestic and displaced laborers and help them get skilled training. For greater effectiveness and coordination, they propose greater all-India administrative linkage and democratically transparent accountability. Sharing the gospel means working for equality, for the human dignity of those to whom it is denied. Social Activism People's participation is the essence of the democratic process. In actuality, social structures exclude many from the process. Sharing the gospel in this context means working for equality, for the human dignity of those to whom it is denied. This is the philosophy behind the action plan described above. One recognizes echoes of political language, but the composers of the document are not a political party. They are churchmen to the core. They do not speak a distinctively churchy language either, but one of social activists. The plans might be high-sounding and idealistic. Everything might not be realized as desired or planned. But the goodwill is obvious, and it is unlikely to be wholly in vain or go unfulfilled. Does this mission pose a danger or threat to Hinduism? No reasonable Hindus would take it so. Denominational conversion could indeed be perceived as a sociopolitical and cultural threat, especially if it took place on a massive scale. But conversion in the values of a Review for Religious culture does not pose such a threat. The nation and its people can be the better for it. (Will the Indian people then come off the various stereotypes about church, mission, and Christians?) Reflection Individuals can challenge and be challenged by others in dialogue into greater confidence and indifference. Then they will speak without fear their critical as well as creative ideas. Then they will feel accepted with their strengths and weaknesses and will participate with joy and confidence in their own and the common works. They will come up with initiatives that could be discussed, decided, and acted upon. This might be a way of rediscovering Ignatian indifference--through structural changes more in tune with our times. This might be a way of refounding St. Ignatius's Society as our Society. No institute or nation is founded once and for all. It stands always in need of reappropriation and reidentification by new and would-be members or citizens. It is when they are happy with the country or institute that they proudly identify with it and want to strengthen it further. Such a feeling is not an individual's to produce all by oneself. Every member has a personal responsibility to it. The government or the leaders have a major structural and personal responsibility. Friends, I am passing these thoughts on to you in the hope that they may evoke some critical reflections for our common good. 63.1 2004 HILDEGARD MAGDALEN PLEVA A Charism Illumined: Eucharistic Anamnesis and "Viva Memoria" ¯ he Second Vatican Council gave the church an energizing impulse. One of its most generative instructions directedreligious orders and con-gregations to go back into their history, examine early texts and archival material for guidance in reappropriating their founders' inspiration and charism, and thus begin their own rejuvenation. The still burning embers of the Spirit's work were to be fanned into flame and illumine the path ahead in new times and new circumstances. The Order of the Most Holy Redeemer pur-sued this directive in company with their Redemptorist brothers, whose efforts brought its founder, the Venerable Maria Celeste Crostarosa (1696-1755), into the light. Renewed knowledge of her vivacious spirit and mystical ¯ experience was a rediscovery of the institute's charism, the life force to be reappropriated by her sisters, the call to be a living memory of the 40 Hildegard Magdalen Pleva OSSR is newly professed among the Redemptoristine Nuns; P.O. Box 220; Esopus, New York 12429. Review for Religious paschal mystery of Jesus. Our formula of profession says, "You have called me to relive in myself the Mystery of Jesus. and to be a living memorial of it." During my ten years of association with the order and two years within the community, in conversations with friends, lay associates, religious of other congrega-tions, and visitors to our monastery, I have often attempted to explain our charism, to be a "living mem-ory" of Christ (Crostarosa, Dialogues, §104). It does not mean mere imitation; it goes beyond that. My effort to expand on the "beyond" kept falling short. From this sense of inadequacy came a search for a way of defining "living memory" that would be appropriately substan-tial yet comprehensible. The Eucharistic Connection With time and within the misty atmosphere of men-tal conjecture, "living memory" began to merge with Jesus' words in the Liturgy: "Do this in memory (anam-nesis) of me." Suddenly the overlap was not just a coin-cidence of vocabulary. It included a concept of Eucharistic theology explored in graduate school. That first appreciation of Eucharistic anamnesis seemed like a bright star exploding before my eyes, initially blinding in its brightness but then illuminating everything. At the consecration of the Mass, not only is the Body and Blood of Jesus made present under the appearance of bread and wine, but the entire paschal mystery is made present, and not only present but also active among us here and now. We are not merely remembering Jesus' life and sacrifice on the cross. Those events are actively redeeming the world at this m'oment. That explanation of the Eucharistic Liturgy's meaning and power emerged from the past in response to my "living memory" question of the present. It suggested that the concept of liturgical anamnesis could clarify our Redemptoristine concept of "living memory4."1 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined The form and features of this concept emerged from careful reading of Maria Celeste's Dialogues and Autobiography, which provide a rich vein of evidence of her post-Communion meditation experiences. One morning after Holy Communion I heard in the very center of my soul these words of the Credo pro-nounced: "consubstantialem Patri per quem omnia facta sunt" [one in being with the Father, through whom all things were made] so that, filled to over-flowing with divine gifts, it seemed to me that the divine essence was in me . My Lord Jesus Christ. gave me his divine heart, which he enclosed in my breast in place of my own . I seemed to enter into a new life of Love, a life in God. (Autobiography, capi-tolo 18) This morning., my whole soul was transformed into your very substance. (Dialogues, §30) Since your soul is the figure of My substance, what ~ really are you within your spirit, in your very being, if not a living image, a living copy of Me? (Dialogues, §47) After I received Holy Communion . . . I saw You within me and myself changed into You . I felt that just one word was being spoken to me, namely, "sub-stance of the Father" [consubstantialem Patri] . This transformation, O Lord of my heart, of my being into Yours, You deigned to make so many times! (Dialogues, §125) This morning I went to Holy Communion and You transformed me into Yourself so that I entered into the humanity of Your divine Word and began to sacrifice myself to the Father for all people. (Dialogues, §147) You do this precisely by the spirit of observance in terms of your Rule, which was given to Me so that you might be a viva memoria [a dynamic memory] of My life. (Dialogues, §104) These passages speak of a transformation that is not merely an imitative overlay but a participation in the substance, the very essence, of Jesus, in which he in turn is consubstantial with the Father. Nor is it a static par-ticipation, but a highly animated one that propels Maria Review for Religious Celeste "into a new life of Love, a life in God." By such participation and animation, Jesus, his paschal mystery, his work of redemption, is made present and active in our time. For Maria Celeste the incarnation of Jesus was the opening of new territory in the relationship between God and humanity, a territory into which she entered with abandon. By taking part in the Eucharist, the essen-tial act of remembering Jesus, she became substantially one with him, not merely an imitation of him. Gradually these mystical experiences revealed to her the necessity of remembering always, of living a life of remembering, a life of "oneness" with Jesus Christ. Eucharistic Anamnesis The phenomena of Eucharistic anamnesis and "liv-ing memory" each reflect the other. Yet their depth, their power to inform sacramental and spiritual appreciation, was lost over time. While the anamnetic character of the Eucharist was buried under weighty layers of theo-logical argumentation, Maria Celeste's mystical experi-ence of "living memory" was lost to obscurity for more than two hundred years. In the 20th century each became the object of a kind of archaeological dig, a treasure to be unearthed by tectonic shifts brought about by the Second Vatican Council. The crucial feature of both anarnnesis and "living memory" is the ability to make past events and the per-son of Jesus present and active in our time. This idea, however, this connection, is not enough. One must ask where this astounding concept of anamnesis comes from. The answers will more fully illuminate the Redemptoristine charism, and the Catechism of the Catholic Church gives inquirers a start: The Eucharist is the memorial of Christ's Passover, the making present and the sacramental offering of his unique sacrifice . In all the Eucharist Prayers we 63. I 2004 --44 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined find after the words .of institution a prayer called the anamnesis or memorial ["Father, we celebrate the mem-ory of Christ . We. recall his passion" etc. / "In memory of his death and resurrection" etc. / "Father, calling to mind the death your Son endured . . . his glorious resurrection" etc. / "Father, we now celebrate this memorial of our redemption. We recall Christ's death, his descent among the dead" etc.]. In the sense of Sacred Scripture, the memorial is not merely the recollection of past events but the proclamation of the mighty works wrought by God for men . They become in a certain way present and real. This is how Israel understands its liberation from Egypt: every time Passover is celebrated, the Exodus events are made present to the memory of believers so that they may conform their lives to them. ¯ . . When the church celebrates the Eucharist, she commemorates Christ's Passover, and it is made pre-sent . "As often as the sacrifice of the cross . is celebrated on the altar, the work of our redemption is carried out." (§§1362-1364) Rooted in Jewish Liturgical Practice The memorial or anamnetic character of the Eucharistic banquet is not a conceptualization newly minted by post-Vatican II sacramental theology. Rather, it is a theological concept found in the oldest Eucharistic Prayers, which reflect how the practices of the early church were deeply rooted in ancient Hebrew liturgical tradition. "The primitive Eucharist was a commemora-tion. Not a commemoration of the Last Supper, but a commemoration of Christ, and of his saving mysteries. The idea . of a 'mere' commemoration (nuda com-memoratio) would have been meaningless to the Jewish mind" (Lash, p. 44). In 1969 Rabbi Marc Tannenbaum, then director of national intex:religious affairs for the American Jewish Committee and an observer at the Second Vatican Council, wrote: "To commemorate and to remember is in the Jewish tradition never a mere Review for Religious memory, but always implies a look toward the future and a making present again" (Breaking of Bread, p. 148). The Jewish Passover Seder is the penultimate expression of the Hebrew commemorative meal, making present in real time the mystery of the Passover of the Lord God. Based upon the work of scholars in Eucharistic the-ology, among them Louis Bouyer, Louis Ligier, Joachim Jeremias, Jean-Paul Audet, and Gregory Dix, an even greater understanding .of the origins of the earliest Eucharistic Prayers or anaphoras is emerging. The most ancient anaphoras conform in structure to the Jewish prayers said at a fellowship meal, espe-cially the birkat-ha-mazon, which was typically anamnetic in char-acter and featured three move-ments: blessing, thanksgiving, and supplication (Audet in Klein, p. 410). Beyond appreciating the stylistic resemblance of early Eucharistic Prayers, it was Gregory Dix who had the insight to consider the Sitz-im-Leben, that is, the insti-tutional setting in actual Hebraic practice which gave specific meaning to these liturgical meal prayers (Klein, p. 413). Dix's insights answered a basic question: What did Jesus, as a Jew of his time, have in mind; what did he mean when he said, "Do this in memory of me" (1 Co 11:24)? "The command of Jesus did not refer to the rep-etition of a sacral fellowship meal. This could be pre-sumed as fundamental to Jewish religious practice. In other words, Jesus did not have to institute a meal, because the meal was already there. What Jesus did was to invest this meal with a new anamnetic character" (Klein, p. 414). For the Hebrew of Jesus' time, the Passover meal was not merely "a subjective, human psy- What Jesus did was to invest this meal with a new anamnetic character. 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined chological act of returning to the past, but an objective reality" undertaken to make the Passover of the Lord perpetually present before God (Bouyer, p. 103). "By the power of the Lord of history, those events are in a sense made present in the liturgy, so that the worshipers are living them ag.ain in their own lives. A Jewish ritual memorial, therefore, is no mere thinking of the past; it is a memorial filled with the reality of that which it com-memorates" (Maloney, p. 265). This was the anamnetic character of the meal. When Jesus said "Do this in mem-ory of me," he invested the meal with a new anamnetic object, that is, the paschal mystery, which is the saving acts of his own life, death, and resurrection. The Implications of Anamnesis for Our Practice Celebrations of the Eucharist in which we share today are the occasions in which we call to mind the person and events of our salvation--Jesus Christ and his paschal mystery--in such a way that we render them liv-ing and active in our own time. The plural pronoun we is operative here. The priest, although acting in persona Christi, is not acting alone. The gathered community is not merely present or participating by observation. The community gathered for the memorial meal is integral to anamnesis, to recalling and thereby making actively pre-sent the person and saving action of the~Redeemer. The Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy (Sacrosanctum con-cilium) of the Second Vatican Council declares that God's people gathered for Eucharist "offer the immaculate vic-tim through the hands of the priest, but also together with him" (§48). The Eucharistic Prayer emphasizes this integral func-tion by repeated use of the pronoun we. "We thank you for counting us worthy to stand in your presence and serve you" (EP II). "We offer you in thanksgiving this holy and living .sacrifice" (EP III). "We, your people and Review for Religious your ministers, recall his passion, his resurrection from the dead, and his ascension into glory" (EP 2). Indeed, the level of participation penetrates more deeply if the community offer themselves along with the gifts of bread and wine: "Father, we bring you these gifts. We ask you to make them holy by the power of your Spirit, that they may become the body and blood of your Son, our Lord Jesus Christ." In the consecration Jesus becomes uniquely present under the appearances of bread and wine, but also, through the Eucharistic anamnesis and the congregation's living memory, actively present within and among those gathered. This answers the question of the way Jesus Christ becomes actively present at each Eucharistic celebration. According to people's receptive memories, Jesus the redeeming Christ becomes present in those who are united with him in this memorial. In remembering, we become what we remember. Just as the anamnetic character of our Eucharist is rooted in an ancient religious ritual, appreci-ation of the effect of anamnesis is imbedded in our history. St. Fulgentius (467-533), bishop of Ruspe, speaking of the obligation of the faithful to fulfill the words of the Savior at the Last Supper, wrote: "Thus they drink the Lord's cup by preserving the holy bond of love; without it, even if a man should deliver his body to be burned, he gains nothing. But the gift of love enables us to become in real-ity what we celebrate as mystery in the sacrifice." Alexander Schmemann, the late Russian Orthodox scholar of liturgy, wrote about the power of anamnetic memory in his work The Eucharist. His words are so elo-quently reminiscent of the Constitutions of the Order of the Most Holy Redeemer that they" must be quoted at length: In Christ . memory comes to reign and is restored as a life-creating power, and, in remembering, man par-takes not of the experience of the fall., but of the 47 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined overcoming of this fall through "life everlasting." For Christ himself is the incarnation and the gift to mankind of God's memory in all its fullness . The essence of our faith and the new life granted in it consists in Christ's memory, realized in us through our memory of Christ. From the very first day of Chris-tianity, to believe in Christ meant to remember him and keep him always in mind . From the very begin-ning the faith of Christians was memory and remem-brance, but memory restored to its life-creating essence--for . this new memory is a joyous recog-nition of the one who was resurrected, who lives and therefore is present and abides . Faith eternally knows that the one who is remembered lives . The remembrance of Christ is the entry into his love, making us brothers and neighbors, "brethren" in his ministry. His life and presence in us and "among" us is certified only by our love for each other and for all whom God has sent into, has included in, our life, and this means above all in the remembrance of each other and in the commemoration of each other in Christ. Therefore, in bringing his sacrifice to the altar, we create the memory of each other, we identify each other as living in Christ and being united with each other in him. (Schmemann, pp. 128-130) The constitution and statutes of our order assert again and again this understanding of the Eucharistic Liturgy as the agent of "living memory":. The church continues to make present this memorial of the Passover of the Lord, a living bond of 16ve between Christians and a pledge of future glory. Our liturgical celebrations must give witness at one and the same time to the holiness of the Lord and to his loving presence among us . This silent con-templation, maintained in faith and love in the depth of the soul, allows us a personal experience of God and also permits us to enter fully into the plan of redemption . We allow Christ to relive his mys-tery in us by contemplating him in the whole of his life. (§§37-42) Review for Religious Participation by the Holy Spirit's Power The scope of this paper does not permit lengthy dis-cussion of the debate regarding consecratory elements of the Liturgy of the Eucharist. While the church in the West has long held to "This is my body . this is my blood" in the Gospels' Last Supper narrative as the con-secratory formula, the church of the East has always con-sidered the epidesis, the prayer of the invocation of the Holy Spirit, to be the essential mo-ment of consecration. Again it is Alexander Schmemann who calls the debate back to order. "Despite hundreds of treatises written in response to this question, neither aca-demic theological nor liturgi-cal studies have given, alas, a satisfactory answer . We cannot 'break through' to the genuine meaning, embed-ded in the very experience of the church, of the Eucharist as the sacrament of remembrance" (Schmemann, pp. 192- 193). Although today the Catechism of the Catholic Church (§§ 1352-1353) declares the Eucharistic Prayer "the heart and summit of the celebration," specifying the institution narrative as consecratory, the very existence of the old debate reminds us to renew our attentiveness to the work of the Spirit. This attentiveness is important for appreci-ating the anamnetic character of the Eucharistic Liturgy. Each of the four principal Eucharistic Prayers includes an epidesis invoking the power of the Holy Spirit as the agent of consecration: "Let your Spirit come upon these gifts to make them holy" (EP II). By these words we acknowledge that it is by the power of the Holy Spirit Attentiveness to the work of the Spirit is important for appreciating the anamnetic character of the Eucharistic Liturgy. 49 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined - that the gifts are changed. In these words we ask that we too may become h01y, becoming "a living offering to God" (Catechism, §1105) in the mystery we celebrate, the sacrament of remembrance. For Redemptoristines the vocabulary of anamnesis (memory, remember, remembrance, recall, memorial) should be like music to the ears. The charism to be a "living memory" of Jesus was revealed to our foundress during post-Communion meditations in which she expe-rienced the transformative power of the Eucharist accomplished through the work of the Spirit. Her daugh-ters are to be transformed into the "living memory" by participation in the Eucharistic banquet, which was from the beginning a "memory." By remembering we partic-ipate in the change of the Eucharistic elements into the Body and Blood of Jesus and, in turn, we are changed into the very life we remember. The Jesus of Maria Celeste's mystical experiences said: "You shall take on a memory of my life in each hour [of the day]. I shall be the lamp of all your activities, and you shall eat the living food of eternal life which was contained in the works of my life while I was a pilgrim on earth. This is the spirit of the institute: viva memoria and imitation of me just as I lived among you" (Dialogues, §§104-105). Elsewhere this level of attentive remem-bering is referred to as a "fixed gaze." To the degree that Celeste's daughters' devout recollection approximates a fixed gaze, their very lives take on an anamnetic character. Then we make the paschal mystery more present and active in real time. We become the "living memory" of Jesus. Our acts of memory, insofar as they are produced by the Holy Spirit, render us not only spiritual people (pneumatikoi) but also bearers of the Spirit (pneu-matophoroO, a living epMesis (Bianchi, p. 162). By our lives we call down the power of the. Holy Spirit into every cor-ner of the world and the troubled hearts of humanity. Review for Religio,,s My original question concerned the deeper meaning of our charism, to be a "living memory" of Jesus Christ, to make the person of Jesus present in our world in a manner that goes beyond any mere imitation. Our Eucharistic Liturgies are "pregnant with reality" (Crichton, p. 14), a reality Jesus called for at the Last Supper: "Do this in memory of me." Jesus, the incarna-tion of the memory of God, is asking us to become, in turn, the incarnation of his memory in our world. The words of Maria Celeste express self-affirmation and encourage her community today: Now that Your sacred humanity, united to the Word of God, has been glorified . it gives me such a risen life in God that it transforms me into the eternal life of God, as I await the dawning of the new day that will make me blessed for all eternity. (Florilegium, p. 95) If we have it in our power to make present and active the saving work of Jesus by our remembering, the qual-ity of that remembering, our alert presence to it, becomes so much more vital. Seeing the relation between the anamnesis and Maria Celeste's "living memory" intensi-fies our call to be contemplatives. For Redemptoristines, for all contemplatives, or for all who would live their active lives in a more contemplative fashion, the Eucharistic anamnesis can reinforce our effort to live rec-ollected lives, to order our lives by continually remem-bering (and thus reactualizing) the person, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Almost fifty years ago Thoma~ Merton declared, "In the night of our technological barbarism, monks must be as trees which exist silently in the dark and by their vital presence purify the air" (Merton, p. 124). Just as the trees of the forest breathe transforming life into the world, our conscious and active "living memory" is, with the divine breath of the Spirit, cocreator of the saving presence of Jesus in our time. Appreciation of the anam- 63.1 2004 Pleva ¯ A Charism Illumined netic power of our "living memory" is impetus for the life and work of contemplation. Sources Bianchi, Enzo, OCSO. "The Holy Spirit in Monastic Life," trans. Brian Kerns. Cistercian Studies Quarterly 37, no. 2 (2002): 153- 166. Catechism of the Catholic Church. Liguori, Mo.: Liguori Publications, 1997. Crichton, J.D. "A Theology of Worship." In The Study of Liturgy, ed. Cheslyn Jones, Geoffrey Wainwright, and Edward Yarnold SJ. New York: Oxford University Press, 1978. Or see Study, rev. ed., 1992, p. 15. Crostarosa, Maria Celeste. Dialogues, trans. Joseph W. Oppitz. Esopus, N.Y.: Mother of Perpetual Help Monastery, 1981. Dix, Dom Gregory. The Shape of the Liturgy. New York: Seabury Press, 1982. Florilegium: Texts from Mother Maria Celeste Crostarosa, ed. Sabatino Majorano. Liguori, Mo:: Liguori Publications, 1993. Klein, Terrance W. "Institution Narratives at the Crossroads." Worship 67, no. 5 (September 1993): 407-418. Lash, Nicholas. His Presence in the World: A Study of Eucharistic VVorship and Theology. Dayton, Ohio: Pflaum Press, 1968. Maloney, Raymond. "The Doctrine on the Eucharist." In Commentary on the Catechism of the Catholic Church, ed. Michael J. Walsh, pp. '259-269. Collegeville~ Liturgical Press, 1994. Merton, Thomas. Basic Principles of Monastic Spirituality. Springfield, Ill.: Templegate Publishers, 1996. Order of the Most Holy Redeemer (OSSR). Constitution and Statutes. Rome, 1985. Schmemann, Alexander. The Eucharist: Sacrament of the Kingdom. Crestwood, N.Y.: St. Vladimir's Seminary Press, 1988. Tannenbaum, Marc. "How Mode(n Jews Celebrate Their History." In The Breaking of Bread, ed. Pierre Benoit, Roland E. Murphy, and Bastiaan van Iersel. Concilium, vol. 40. New York: Paulist Press, 1969. Review for Religious RANDALL S. ROSENBERG Eucharistic Devotion in the Rising Generation _~ .~.aismseuse M oafr tAinm SeJ rdiicda a, nhiicgeh jloibg,h inti nthge t3h Me aprecrhs 2o0n0a3l reflections of contemporary Catholics on traditional devotions. In recent times we have witnessed in the United States a rise of the devotion of Eucharistic adoration. How ought this revival to be perceived? Is it merely an attempt to resurrect nostalgic memories of the "good old days"? Or is it the authentic recovery of a lost Eucharistic piety that has had an important place in our tradition? In this "bent" world, both of the afore-mentioned possibilities could be operative. In his April 2003 encyclical on the Eucharist, Ecclesia de Eucbaristia, John Paul II recognizes "positive signs" of an increase in "Eucharistic faith and love." But he also takes notice of what he calls "shadows" with regard to this devotion. He writes: "In some places the practice of Eucharistic adoration has been almost completely abandoned. In various parts of the church, abuses have occurred, leading to confusion about Catholic doctrine Randall S. Rosenberg has taught high school theology and is beginning work towards a Ph.D. in systematic theology at Boston College. His address is 14 Eddy Street; Newton, Massachusetts 02465. 63.1 2004 Rosenberg ¯ Eucbaristic Devotion and sound faith concerning this wonderful sacrament. At times one encounters an extremely meager understanding of the Eucharistic mystery" (§10). John Paul claims that the worship of the Eucharist outside of Mass, as linked to the celebration of the Eucharistic sacrifice, is of "inestimable value for the life of the church." He calls upon pastoral leaders to encourage this devotion which affords the opportunity to "spend time with him, to lie close to his breast like the Beloved Disciple (see Jn 13:25) and to feel the infinite love present in his heart." Surely this intimate language springs from the depths of the pope's personal experience of Christ in adoration: "How often, dear brothers and sisters, have I experienced this, and drawn from it strength, consolation, and support!" (§25). What are we to make of our pope's proclamation? As a faculty moderator on a recent high school retreat, I witnessed students spending some time in Eucharistic adoration. The adoration followed several days of small-group sharing and was linked with the opportunity for the sacrament of reconciliation. Without solicitation, one student remarked to me how powerful this experience was for him. This was not a student regularly involved with campus ministry, nor did he seem particularly interested in matters religious. The student asked me why this opportunity was not more available. It struck me that this generation (I am not very much older) does not carry around the baggage that many middle-aged and older American Catholics carry; that is, there is no liberal-conservative rift dividing them. I am all for healthy theological tension, but young people today are not likely to label those who spend time in Eucharistic adoration traditionalist conservatives, nor those who are concerned about social justice radical liberals. There seems to be a growing sense that the contemplative and active dimensions of the faith ought not to be pitted against each another, but rather are part of the rich and Review for Religious complex life of faith in the modern world. John E Kavanaugh SJ recendy suggested (America, 4 November 2002) that the old dichotomies of liberal and conservative simply do not work anymore. One such illuminating experience for him was an encounter with a prayer group of college students who invited him to speak on the topic of "Real Presence in the Eucharist and in Persons." Many in the church are righdy concerned about an emphasis on private Eucharistic devotion over against the communal dimensions of the faith. Influenced in part by the groundbreaking work of Henri de Lubac SJ, the church has rediscovered the social dimension of the Eucharist, namely, that this powerful sacrament is not only an encounter with the divine, but also a means of fostering unity in the church and among human beings generally. Rightly under-stood, Eucharistic contem-plation could deepen one's relationship with Christ made present under the appearance of bread and wine and also with the assembly of the faithful, the body of Christ. In the midst of our technological culture that fosters noise, clutter, information overload, and a quick fix, and in a world culture that is permeated with violence and war, I propose that we need Christic contemplation and silence. Since my conversation with the student, I have become more convinced than ever that our world not only needs silence, but also hungers for silence. One can commune silently with Holy Mystery in nature or in one's living room, but our sacramental tradition provides us with a special quiet encounter with Jesus. Many in the church are rightly concerned about an emphasis on private Eucharistic devotion over against the communal dimensions of the faith. 63.1 2004 Rosenberg ¯ Eucbaristic Devotion ! The great theologian Karl Rahner SJ--who respected the tradition deeply and engaged modern intellectual developments creatively, and who tried to convince ordinary people that they can be mystics in their everyday activities--warned against the loss of this devotion. In Mission and Grace: Essays in Pastoral Theology, Rahner suspects that those who oppose contemplation of the Eucharist are really uncomfortable with "private, prolonged, contemplative prayer in general; that the objections raised against visits as such are for the most part only a sort of ideological cover, supplied in retrospect, for a general withdrawal from the severe demands of meditation." In his final writings Rahner wrote that the worshiping of Jesus in the sacrament must not disappear. Its history may have started from unnoticeable beginnings. However, in salvation history and in the history of the church, something cannot disappear simply because it started almost without being noticed. No, as Catholics we wish, individually and together, to loo1~ to the sign of the presence of the one who has loved us and has offered himself up for us. It should not be unusual for us to kneel at times in private prayer before the Lord who has saved us. ("Eucharistic Worship," in Theological Investigations x aI0 Eucharistic adoration may also foster the contemplative dimension of a concern for social justice. A hallmark of the theology of Johannes Baptist Metz, famous for his spiritual classic Poverty of Spirit, is what he calls dangerous memories. According to him, what theology often ignores is the history of suffering. We must not do theology, he would say, with our backs turned to Auschwitz, but with a mysticism of eyes open to the dangerous memories, the me.mories of horrendous human suffering. Discourse about the war in Iraq, then, cannot be divorced from the dangerous memory of the Review for Religious young boy who lost his arms and was severely burned in a U.S. missile attack. Not only was he injured, but his pregnant mother was killed, along with his father and several of his siblings. One encounters dangerous memories in the Eucharist. As Pope John Paul has insisted, the Eucharist makes sacramentally present again the horrible sufferings of Jesus, himself a victim of injustice. In the light of the dangerous memory of the cross, Eucharistic adoration provides, if well understood, the opportunity to become conscious of and to lament the terrible sufferings of God's children in our present day. We are given a chance to commune with the one who gave us these haunting words: "Whatever you do to the least of my brothers you do to me." Christ-centered contemplation, then, may lead to Christ-centered action. Although we must avoid letting private devotion seem more important or more central than the Mass, it would be wise to listen to people, especially young people, who desire to spend time in loving contemplation and adoration of the Eucharist. Such devotion may actually build bridges across rifts in the church and in the world, actually make the church more Catholic and catholic. I am convinced that the rising generation is ready to discard divisive political labels and embrace both the prayer and the activity necessary for integral lives of faith. 63.1 2004 SUSAN B. CORDSEN Teresa of Avila and Friendship Teresa was a friend par excellence. She had tremendous natural relational gifts. These caused her great difficulty, but also became keys to her effectiveness as a reformer. Friendship is a central element in her writing as it was in how she lived her life. In her autobiography she writes, "As I grew older, when I began to know of the natural attractive qualities the Lord had bestowed on me (which others said were many), instead of thanking him for .them, I began to make use of them all to offend him.''1 The redemptive learning and teaching that flowered from her experience can be helpful for us today. In her early life, relationships were a con-stant struggle for her. In her autobiography Teresa says that a friendship of hers with a teenage relative "pained my father and my sis-ter" (2.4). She uses her own reflections to illus- Susan B. Cordsen, a lay Carmelite for twenty-one years, is doing graduate studies at Washington Theological Union; 6896 Laurel Street, N.W.; Washington, D.C. 20012. Review for Religious trate and teach "the harm a bad companion can do." Later she speaks of the personal influence of a nun in the convent school she was attending: "This good com-pany began to help me get rid of the habits that the bad company had caused" (2.4 and 3.1). Both the negative and the positive aspects of friendship frame her discussions. In 1536, at the age of twenty-one, she entered the Carmelite Convent of the Incarnation. There "the par-lor" and outside relationships became a major "harm and distraction" for her. In that early period she had a vision of Christ, who "desired to make me understand that those friendships were not proper for me" (7.6). Since she did not know that it was possible to see the Lord in such a personal, experiential way, and since "the vision was not to my liking," she tried to conceal it from her-self (7.7). Concerning these friendships, she ignored other external and internal warnings as well. In 1544 a Dominican confessor, Vicente Barron, iarged her to return to personal times of prayer. Here she reflects: "Spiritual friendship is. extremely impor-tant for souls not yet fortified in virtue--since they have so many opponents and friends to incite them to evil" (7.21). Now she begins to express prayer in friendship terms with her famous definition: "Mental prayer., is noth-ing else than an intimate sharing between friends; it means frequently taking time to be alone with Him who we know loves us." For friendship.to :endure, "the wills of the friends must be in accord" (8.5). Seeing Christ as "friend" who invites us into "friendship" becomes the key and model of her redeemed relationality. Yet her internal struggles remained intense. She says, "For more than eighteen years, I suffered this conflict between friendship with God and friendship with the world" (8.3). Finally, in 1554, she had her profound conversion before the statue of the wounded Christ. Yet, even here, though 63.1 2004 Cordsen ¯ Teresa of Avila and Friendship Though she was deeply reoriented toward friendship with Jesus, she was not fully freed from personal attachments. she was deeply reoriented toward friendship with Jesus, she was not fully freed from personal attachments. This came about two years later. She writes of her new Jesuit confessor, Juan de Pradanos, who led her with skill and gentleness because she was still fragile, "espe-cially with regard to giving up some friendships I had." She was not offending God, but was attached, feeling she would be ungrateful to aban-don them. This would seem to be a rather common state of affairs in people's friend-ships. The friendship is not sinful or "destructive," and to simply discard the rela-tionship would seem disloyal to the friend, and yet the attachment is the very thing that keeps us unfree and interferes with both our friendship with God and our friendship with the person. Turning to God in prayer,. Teresa was for the first time granted a rapture; she heard, "No longer do I want you to converse with men but with angels" (24.5). She com-ments, "These words have been fulfilled." How? By her withdrawing into silent prayer, ending all human friend-ships to speak only with angels and God? No. "For I have never again been able to tie myself to any friendship or to find consolation in or bear particular love for any other persons than those I understand love [God] and strive to serve him; nor is it in my power do to so, nor does it matter whether they are friends or relatives" (24.6). This freed her to become more of a friend rather than drawing her from friendship. This is because her friendship with others now flowed from her friendship with Christ. It is astonishing Review for Religious how deeply and richly she draws on the concept of friendship to express her relationship with Jesus. She notes, again and again that he is a "true" friend. This is a term she uses just before writing about the importance of the sacred humanity of Christ and how we must never seek to go beyond this. "We are not angels but we have a body" (22.6-10). The concept of friendship keeps her connected to the sacred humanity. She writes of how God treats the soul with friendship; she even prays that the Lord make a certain person "our" friend, that is, the friend of both God and Teresa (27.9 and 34.8). God enables in us a sense of mutuality whereby the soul and God understand each other (27.10). This key, friendship, continues in her "Meditations on the Song of Songs." Though a human love story and one often used by mystics to comment on the love of God pursuing and enticing the soul in the image of the bride, Teresa adds her own twist. Her meditation is really on only a few verses and treats the themes of prayer and union as she does in her other works. But here she emphasizes "friendship" and "peace." Quoting the verse "Let Him kiss me with the kiss of his mouth," she asks how dare we speak them. She answers, "The soul that is enkindled with a love that makes it mad desires nothing else than to say these words." Then, after speaking of the Blessed Sacrament, she wonders whether the bride "was asking for that union so great that God became man, for that friendship that he effects with the human. race. Obviously a kiss is the sign of great peace and friendship among two persons.''2 Teresa discusses everything from "friendship" with the devil to our relationship with God as "skin-deep." Using "friendship" to express growth and union, she refers to "another kind of friendship, stronger than this," but adds that "neither is this the friendship the bride seeks" (2.20 and 2.27). "God grants so great a favor as to 6! 63.1 2004 Cordsen * Teresa of Avila and Friendship join [the soul] with himself in a friendship like this" (3.9); "how is it possible that even while in this mortal life one can enjoy You with so special a friendship [that] only those who experience this friendship will understand it?" (3.14 and 4.1). Teresa develops this human love story in many directions, including that of marriage. The fact that she uses it to reflect on divine friendship may help us reflect on the friendship dimension within marriage. As usual, Teresa not only shares her experience, but also reflects on it to help others. In setting up her Carmelite reform, she initially limits her monasteries to thirteen nuns. Here "all must be friends, all must be loved, all must be held dear, all must be helped.''3 She herself knows how difficult this is in practice and tries to point out pitfalls and give guidance. Though written for cloistered women, her insights are practical for us as well. She is concerned about hav-ing "excessive love" for one person and thus failing to love others equally, feeling sorry about an affront to the friend, desiring possessions so as to have things to give as gifts, and looking for times to speak with her and often only about trifling things. Such friendships seldom help each other toward love of God. Yet because we are human we are often drawn more to one person than another and easily become attached. The crucial ele-ments are self-knowledge and awareness (4.6-8). Teresa usually does not recommend cutting off con-tact altogether, which would not be possible in the monastery anyway. "To break away from these friend-ships involving a particular fondness, great care is nec-essary at the outset of the friendship. This breaking away should be done delicately and lovingly rather than harshly" (4.9). She says to limit time together. She is not trying to destroy the friendship, only reorient it. She shows this by the way she speaks of spiritual love, which is what she desires for all friendship. "Even though in Review for Religious the beginning it is not so perfect, the Lord will gradu-ally perfect it. Let us begin by using the suitable means, for, even though the love bears with it some natural ten-derness, no harm will be done provided this tenderness is shown toward all" (7.5). Her advice regarding falling in love with confessors shows her realism and balance. The sisters should "try not to think about whether they love the confessor or don't love him; but, if they do love him, let them love him . A great principle for making much progress is to love the confessor, if he is holy and spiritual and if I see that he is dili-gent about my soul's progress. For our weak-ness is such that some-times this love helps us very much to perform great deeds in the ser-vice of God. If the love is not of this kind, there is danger . There is much need for caution and pru-dence. The best advice is that the confessor not know that there is such affection . If [the sisters] know that he is God-fearing, they should not weary themselves over any temptation . about their great attachment; when the devil is worn out, he will go away." However, if they "become aware that the confessor is turning toward some vanity," they should make their confession brief and seek another confessor:4 Teresa looks to self-knowledge, awareness, patience with our emotions, and God's grace to navigate rela-tionships. Regarding confessors she advises developing internal boundaries rather than trusting external bound-aries to keep relationships proper. Again, it is Christ the friend who shows how we are to be friends together. Teresa looks to self-knowledge, awareness, patience with our emotions, and God's grace to navigate relationships. 63.1 2004 Cordsen * Teresa of Avila and Friendship Teresa says this is "a love with no self-interest at all. All that it desires., is to see the other soul rich with heav-enly blessings" (Way, 7.1). As with all of life, this friendship is not without suf-fering. After speaking of the cross, Teresa asks, "What better friendship than that [Jesus] desire for you what he desired for himself?." (Way, 17.7). This is one of many places where she notes that one of the gifts of Christ's friendship is a sharing in his cross--but the suffering comes not from denying friendship but from attempt-ing to live it without self-interest, to have affection but not attachment. We do not reach this fully in this life. In trying to distinguish the different loves, Teresa says, "I don't think I know which love is spiritual, or when sen-sual love is mixed with spiritual love" (Way, 6.2). Yet this is often the condition we are in. We have the choice of pulling back in fear we will become attached, or of crossing boundaries, ignoring cautions as Teresa did early in her life and fostering distracting and harmful rela-tionships. Or--a third choice--we can choose the path Teresa did and respond to the invitation to friendship with Christ and trust that his grace and mercy will grad-ually bring our friendships in line with his own. In her letters Teresa shows herself to be a very human person. She chides others for not valuing her friendship enough to write more; another "owes her more." Showing great affection, she speaks of being lonely, scolds, encourages, pleads. Her words leap energetically off the pages. There is her great affection for Jertnimo Gracifin, a friendship that brings her much joy and sor-row, and is a puzzlement to others. In her "Spiritual Testimonies" she writes of a time when she "was living in great~ loneliness" and says Gracifin was the only one to "give me comfort, and he had to be absent most of the time." The loneliness continued, and she had a curious intellectual vision of the Lord placing "himself in my Review for Religiot~s arms as in the painting" of the body of Jesus in his mother's arms after being taken down from the cross,s Teresa came to acknowledge her natural gifts for friendship and to thank God for them. She allowed them to be used to draw others to .Jesus. In our world that strives to improve communication skills, set boundaries, express our sexuality neither too much nor too little, where does friendship fit in? The recently beatified Mother Teresa of Calcutta spoke of the great loneliness in the United States. Sexual abuse continues to be a problem and to cause problems in the church and in the world at large. Where is the friendship that St. Teresa of Avila wrote of and lived? Teresa, teach us to be friends of Christ that we may be friends of one another. Notes ~ The Book of Her Life, chapter 1, section 8. Hereafter till note 2, references to this work will be supplied in parentheses in the text. The translations used in this article are those of Kieran Kavanaugh OCD and Otilio Rodriguez OCD, The Collected Works of St. Teresa of Avila, Vols. 1, 2, 3 (Washington: ICS Publications, 1987, 1980, 1985). ¯ Note 2 begins a second series of parenthetical references, and note 3 begins a third series. 2 Meditations on the Song of Songs, chapter 1, section 10. 3 The Way of Perfection, chapter 4, section 7. 4 Teresa as quoted in the translators' note to The Way of Perfec-tion, 4.8. s Spiritual Testimonies, 53. 63.1 2004 ROBERT P. MALONEY Five Faces ofRosalie Rendu On 9 November 2003 Pope John Paul II beatified Rosalie Rendu, a Daughter of Charity. She was the Mother Teresa of 19th-century France. Her energy, creativity, and courage leap out from the accounts of those who knew her.~ Fifty thousand people flocked to her funeral on 9 February 1856. What was said that day, and the articles written in her praise, remind me of Shakespeare's eloquent words: When she shall die, Take her and cut her out in little stars, And she will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night.2 The church beatifies and canonizes men and women pre-cisely for that reason: that they may shine out like stars for us, that in the midst of darkness we may see what it really means to be holy. Saints make holiness real, con-crete. In this article I offer five faces of Rosalie Rendu. Prodigious Worker and Organizer Rosalie was born on 9 September 1786, in Confort, a tiny village in southern France. At just fifteen years of Robert P. Maloney CM, superior general of the Congregation of the Mission, is a frequent contributor to our pages. He resides at Via dei Capasso, 30; 00164 Roma; Italy. ¯ Review for Relig4ous age, she set off for Paris. There she spent more than fifty years of her life in the capital's poorest neighborhood, Mouffetard. Her works were prodigious. She began as a teacher in a primary school, which she later ran. Though she herself had little formal education (biographers say she never managed to write French very well), Rosalie and others labored strenuously to teach children to read, write, and do basic mathematics along with learning their catechism. For young girls and needy women, she soon orga-nized courses in sewing and embroidering. She then founded a day-care center and a nursery school fox; the children of working mothers. For these same mothers she started a branch of the Children of Mary. In addition, she and the sisters ran a center for the distribution of food and firewood, with a pharmacy, a clinic and a clothes dispensary. She helped in counseling the newly founded Society of St. Vincent de Paul. She assisted in the reestablishment of the Ladies of Char-ity in 1840. She cared for the sick and the dying in the recurring cholera epidemics, and throughout her life she visited the poor and infirm in their homes. During the several epidemics between 1849 and 1854, withas many as a hundred and fifty persons dying in the parish every day, Rosalie and the sisters kept doing all they could. They attended to the living, accompanied the dying, and buried the dead. Though Rosalie was not an advocate of orphanages, in 1851 she took over the running of one; in 1852 she began a home for the elderly. The secret of Rosalie's enormous energy was this: she saw the face of Christ in the face of every poor person. 63.1 2004 Maloney * Five Faces of RosMie Rendu In the judgment of the theologian who examined her writings, the secret of Rosalie's enormous energy was this: she saw the face of Christ in the face of every poor person. One of the sisters who lived with her remem-bered Rosalie encouraging the community: "Love our good God very much. Do not be sparing in your duty; serve the poor well, always speaking to them with great kindness . The ruder they are, the more dignified you must be. Remember, our Lord hides behind those rags.''3 Local Superior When she was not yet seventeen years old, a seem-ingly sickly Rosalie was sent away from the novitiate of the Daughters of Charity in the hope that a change of air would improve her health. It is hard to imagine that the air was much better in inner-city Mouffetard, but she thrived there. She quickly won the hearts of the sisters of the house. When she returned to the motherhouse for "habit taking," the local superior sent a letter to the superioress general saying: "I am very happy with this little Rendu. Give her the habit, and send her back to me.''4 And so it was that she took her first step toward becoming the "apos-de of the Mouffetard district," where she would spend the remainder of her life. In 1815, when she was twenty-nine years old, she became the superior. She carried out this service for the next forty-one years, until her death. What was Rosalie like as a superior? Those who gave firsthand testimony about her noted three things: (1) Describing Rosalie's relationship with the sisters in the community, her cousin speaks of her "infinite tender-ness." She was sensitive to what went on around her. Some thought she was sensitive even to a fault. In 1844, when two sisters whom she loved died, Rosalie broke into tears and wrote, "I rebelled in some ways against the hand that struck us, yet I am confident that these two angels will obtain mercy for me.''5 Review for Religious (2) Young sisters loved her. The house where she was superior became a "formation house," so to speak, to which many were sent. From Rosalie they learned first-hand how to serve the poor. Twenty-two postulants lived with her over the years. Eighteen sisters prepared for vows under her direction, starting in 1832. At the time of her death, twelve sisters lived in her community; half of them had been sisters for less than four years. She waged war against pride. One of the sisters says: "In spir-itual direction she pursued this fault relentlessly: 'It's our number-one enemy,' she said. 'Look for it . . . it dis-guises itself to trick us and confuse us, but we must grab it by the throat and choke it.'''6 (3) Rosalie's incredibly active house was also a house of prayer. The community rose each morning at four. One sister testified: "If we had to accompany her on a charitable visit during our prayer time, she said to us as we walked: 'Let's begin our meditation!' She suggested a subject for meditation in a few simple, clear words and entered into prayer." One of her best friends, the Viscount of Melun, quotes her as saying, "I never pray so well as I do in the street.''7 Intrepid Woman By all accounts this tender woman was fearless. Rosalie lived in turbulent times. As a child she experi-enced the Reign of Terror in France; her family hid a nonjuror priest in their home. She experienced the rev-olutions of 1830 and 1848 and the terrible cholera epi-demics of 1832, 1849, and 1854. Rosalie walked among the wounded, the sick, and the dying with little fear for her own health. She and the sisters ministered to thou-sands of cholera victims. The most well-known incidents of Rosalie's bravery took place during the revolutions. When she and the sis-ters hid revolutionaries, Monsieur Gisquet, the chief of69 63.1 2004 Maloney ¯ Five Faces of Rosalie Rendu police, signed a warrant for her arrest. But the local policemen warned him that her arrest would cause a riot in the Mouffetard neighborhood. Gisquet himself went to notify Rosalie of the warrant. She replied: "I am a Daughter of Charity. I have no flag. I help the unfortu-nate wherever I meet them. I try to do good to them without judging them, and I promise you that, if you yourself are ever being pursued and ask my help, I will not refuse it.''s The chief dropped the matter. Fierce fighting broke out within the city during the revolution of 1848. The archbishop of Paris mounted the barricades in an effort to stop the slaughter and was shot dead. The fighting became even more intense. General Cavaignac, later president of France, decided on a massive bombardment of the Mouffetard neigh-borhood, but first offered the sisters safe-conduct out. Rosalie responded to his messenger: "Please thank the general and tell him that we are the servants of the poor and also their mothers and that we want to die with them.''9 Rosalie and the general became lifelong friends. --70J Friend of the Poor and the Rich On many occasions I have walked to the cemetery in Montparnasse to visit the grave of Rosalie Rendu, which is near that of Jean-Paul Sartre. Fresh flowers always lie there. On the simple stone are engraved the words: To Sister Rosalie Her grateful friends The poor and the rich She knew how to be friend to both. The poor loved her deeply because they sensed that she lived out precisely what a witness said she asked of those who accompanied her: "Welcome everyone. Speak to the poor with both kindness and dignity. Do not make them wait. Treat them as you would treat your father, your brothers, your sis-ters.'' 1° The rich, too, were attracted to Rosalie. They Review for Religious found her appeals irresistible. She knew how to engage their energies and their resources in the service of the poor. Her correspondence extends to the archbishop of Paris, superiors general, politicians, doctors, young stu-dents, relatives, and friends. She took on Frederick Ozanam and his companions as apprentices and thus par-ticipated in the birth of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul. From 1833 until Rosalie's death, the Viscount of Melun visited her at least once a week to seek her advice and help in the service of the poor. Among those who gave Rosalie material aid were the king and queen, General Cavaignac, writ-ers and politicians like Lamartine and Caubert, and many local politicians and administrators. The ambassador of Spain, Donoso Cort6z, came to Rosalie's house weekly to receive a list of the poor to visit. When he himself fell ill in 1853, Rosalie assisted him until his death. On 27 February 1852 Rosalie was awarded the Cross of the Legion of Honor. On 18 March 1854 the Emperor Napoleon III and the Empress Eug6nie came to visit her at her house. ¯ The daily line of those seeking entrance into Rosalie's office was long. She worked effici.ently, writing little notes to remind herself of their requests. She sought to find some response, even if inadequate, to all the needs presented to her. Rosalie knew how to engage the energies and resources of the rich in the service of the poor. Faithful, Sometimes Misunderstood, Daughter of Charity Rosalie was revered in her own lifetime. People from all ranks of society came to see her. ~ But her extraordi-nary popularity sometimes raised eyebrows in high cir- 71 63.1 2004 --79,.2 Maloney ¯ Five Faces of RosMie Rendu cles. In the latter part of her life, she suffered from the disapproval of her superiors. The troubles began in the late 1830s, when Jean-Baptiste Nozo was superior gen-eral of the Congregation of the Mission and the Daughters of Charity. Because of a financial scandal, strong opposition to Nozo mounted up. Jean-Baptiste Etienne was his most formidable opponent. News of the conflict hit the papers, so that much of Paris was talking about it. Finally the archbishop of Paris intervened, com-posing a document of interdict against Etienne and oth-ers. Rosalie wanted the matter to end peacefully. She had good connections with the archbishop and went to intercede with him, refusing to leave without an answer and pleading with him to burn the d

Issue 59.5 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; Cons~crat,eld Life SEPTEMBER O(~TOBER "~- 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 5 o to God's universal call,to holiness o by maki~i~ a~ailabie t~ them thespiritual legdcles ~ " tbat flow from tbe cbarisms_of Catholic consecrated life. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: foppema@slu.edu Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP Mount St. Mary's Seminary; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2000 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. MI 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 cop3~ing 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. iew religious LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger-OS.B Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla sJ Patricia Wittberg sC SEPTEMBER OCTOBER 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 5 contents catholic education 454 471 Ex Corde Ecclesiae: A History from Land O'Lakes to Now Martin R. Tripole SJ presents a brief history of Catholic higher education in the United States since Vatican Council II in order to give a context for the issues of contention in recent church documents. Theology Lived in Faith Stan Parmisano OP reflects on the all-pervasiveness of faith in our study o.f theology--a seeing or understanding all the way. 479 488 religious identity Generation X and Religious Life: A Personal View Matthew Eggemeier presents some characteristics of his own generation and highlights the aspects of religious life which appeal to young people. Bride of Christ and Ecclesial Identity J. Sheila Galligan IHM proposes that a renewed understanding of the church as the bride of Christ offers support for a readily identifiable religious habit, specifically distinguished by a veil. 5OO a way of living Work in Such a Way Marie Beha OSC ponders the various ways of living out the Franciscan directive "Work in such a way as not to extinguish the spirit of prayer." Review for Religious 5O7 518 The Little Way of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux Ernest E. Larkin OCarm explains the "specialness" of the life and writings of Th~r~se of Lisieux in presenting the gospel in a new light, with new insight, under the descriptive phrases "little way" or "little doctrine." The Power to Bless: The Sacramentality of Human Touch Carolyn Sur SSND encourages all women and men to participate more fully in their baptismal call to share in Christ's priesthood. 526 537 consecrated life Community and Obedience: Musings on Two Ambiguities Patricia Wittberg SC challenges the notion of reaching a balance point in community life where the needs of the group and the needs of the individual are met--all the while observing religious obedience. Our Past Mission's Unfinished Destiny: The Perspective of Vowed Commitment Philip Armstrong CSC finds a new relevancy in Metz's Poverty of Spirit for any community's pr.eparation for canonical chapters or assemblies. departments ¯ ¯ 452 Prisms 542 Canonical Counsel: Role of the Novice Director 547 Book Reviews September-October 2000 prisms Justice is a major theme of the jubilee year we are celebrating as we enter into this new mil-lennium. With so much evident injustice in our civil society, injustice paradoxically in our justice systems, and even apparent injustice in our divine and all-too-human church, we can appreciate a reexamination for ourselves about our response to God's call to walk justly. For justice is a tricky concept. We often identify jus-tice with a balance sheet. We hear "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth" not as a statement of vengeance, but as our own words for our idea of justice. And Jesus clearly said that such an interpretation of justice has no connection with the way God sees life. Justice based on rights, justice based on equal balances, may approach a. good philosopher's or civil libertarian's idea of justice. But it is perhaps no more than the threshold of a Christian understanding of justice. To paraphrase a Hopkins-like expression, too often "justice injustices." When we struggle and fight for rights for the oppressed, who will be the new oppressed of our efforts? When we bully our way to see justice done, who will be trampled in the process? As we fight to provide life for some, what others are having to face a dying? Re!igious, in trying to fulfill a prophetic role in today's church, have made fresh claims on justice as their mission. But the question remains whether in their lUStlce efforts they have been more ~ften a stimulus for the increase of injustice. God's just.iFe, the gospel justice, is not a simple mat- ¯ ter of securing rights and seeking a balance of scales, as Review for Religious we see depicted in our classical justice statues. The justice that Jesus describes deals with a turning the other cheek, with a giving of my clo'ak, with a walking of an extra mile. Justice is more iden-tified with compassion, the compassion of a father who looks for his wayward child and rushes out to greet him and and welcome him home with a celebration. This understanding of justice finds a very narrow gateway into the human heart. We seem to be only at the .threshold of realizing that there is today no such thing as a just war--if ever there was such a possibility. With great difficulty we, especially in the United States, are slow in realizing that capital punishment is not an act of justice. It more represents vengeance and sullies even further and makes less human those who advocate its use. With an abundance of lawyers, our society has not become more just but rather more litigious. Absorbing this kind of culture, even we followers of Jesus quickly claim rights, less so responsibilities. We see justice with an individual eye; common good is no longer an horizon of vision, even religiously. Are not we Catholics, especially women and men religious, called to be agents of communion in such a culture? An agent of communion, making God's justice alive in the world, will come to understand why the cross is a paradoxical sign of justice. The cross remains the sign of human iustice--the result of a human court calling for the death of an innocent Jewish man. The cross remains God's symbol of justice--allowing arms to be strtetched wide to the left and to the right in an everlasting ges-ture of reconciliation. Working in Jesus' name, the agent of com-munion, the ambassador of reconciliation, will find the cross integral to living and promoting gospel justice. The call that we hear in this jubilee year, then, is not for the simple justice of all properties being restored to the original own-ers of fifty years ago. It is not a call to ~ justice of the balance sheet. The call to which we Christians are challenged to respond puts our feet into the footprints of Jesus. If we are to walk justly with our God, we need to be people who know how to talk earnestly with others along the way. We call it dialogue. We need to be people who can negotiate. We need to be people who seek reconciliation. We need to be a people who act like Christ. As agents of communion, we seek to live a gospel justice. David L. Fleming sJ September-October 2000 catholic education MARTIN R. TRIPOLE Ex Corde Ecclesiae: A History from Land O'Lakes to Now Ex corde ecdesiae (From the Heart of the Church), Pope John Paul II's apostolic constitution on Catholic universities, was released in Rome on 25 September 1990. That document and a subsequent one, "Ex Corde Ecdesiae: An Application to the United States" (hereafter "Application"), are generating much excitement in Catholic higher education in the United States tqday. Ex corde ecdesiae was long in the making. Data on its history is available, but not in a neat compendium. The purpose of this essay is (1) to provide a brief and manageable survey of its history, as well as of its com-panion document, "Ex Corde Ecdesiae: An Application to the United States"; (2) to explain the theological foun-dations for the understanding of what a Catholic uni-versity is, as contained in the two documents; and (3) to focus on the issues of contention and the implications of those issues as contained in the two documents. Martin R. Tripole SJ, associate professor of theology at St. Joseph's University, was coordinator of "Jesuit Education 21," a conference held in June 1999. He edited its volume of Proceedings, published in June 2000 by St. Joseph's University Press. He also edited Promise Renewed, 27 papers. on Jesuit higher education (Chicago: Loyola Press, 1999) and wrote Faith beyond Justice: Widening the Perspective (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1994). His address is St. Joseph's University; 5600 City Avenue; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. Review for Religious History of Ex Corde Ecclesiae Ex corde ecclesiae may be understood as the latest event in a conflict that has been going on between the Catholic Church and modernity since Pius x's condemnation of Modernism in 1907.~ But here we begin with 1949, when Pius XlI, in collaboration with the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education, called together the leaders of "pontifical" institutions, that is, institutions char-tered directly by the Holy See, to form an association that later came to be known as the International Federation of Catholic Universities (IFCU). This federation became an independent asso-ciation in 1963 and, under the direction of the Rev. Theodore M. Hesburgh CSC, president of the University of Notre Dame, was broadened to include most Catholic colleges and universities? From 1963 to 1990 there was a long series of conferences and disputes over what a Catholic university is and what its goals should be. Views were and are divided. Some give primacy to the Catholic institution and its educational goals as integral to the life of the church; others see Catholic universities primarily as an institution governed by the rules for good universities that operate in the sec-ular community. For the former group, the emphasis is on the Catholic university as Catholic, as an arm of the church carrying on its mission, which is to proclaim the gospel of truth to the world, harmonize the teachings of faith and reason, and promote the Christianizing of human life and the social order, For the latter group, the emphasis is on the Catholic university as university, as a center for study and research in competition with secular uni-versities for qualitative teaching and scholarly excellence. There will perhaps always be some tension between these two viewpoints, but in recent history (1967) a decisive radical move occurred in Catholic education, a move that I believe led to the creation of Ex corde ecclesiae and the great divide in Catholic education today. Let me provide a brief history. The search for a definition of a Catholic university gets under-way with a 1965 meeting oflFCU in Tokyo.3 This meeting appears to have been a response to the new theology of the church gener-ated by the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965), especially the council's most original document, "The Church in the Modern World" (Gaudium et spes). It was only natural for Catholic educa-tion to rethink its role in the world in the light of Vatican II's emphasis both on the need to make the gospel relevant to modern life and on the importance of the laity in accomplishing this mis- Septe~nber-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae sion. And so the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education and IFCU "cooperated in sponsoring a series of regional meetings throughout the world on the nature of the modern Catholic uni-versity and its role in the church and world.''4 These regional meetings were held in Buga (Colombia), Manila, Paris, and, most important for Catholic education in America, a Wisconsin resort town known as Land O'Lakes, where the Holy Cross Fathers had a villa house, to which Father Hesburgh invited twenty-six men, leaders in American Catholic higher education, to come to formulate a statement on the role of Catholic universities in America. Twenty-one were priests or bishops, and two of the laymen were the chairmen of the boards of trustees of Saint Louis University and the University of Notre Dame (Gallin, p. 12). Church historian David J. O'Brien states, "As the church would be permanently changed by Vatican II, North America's Catholic universities would be forever changed by. the meeting and resultant statement that became known simply as 'Land O'Lakes.'''s Philip Gleason of Notre Dame asserts in his Contending with Modernity: Catholic Higher Education in the Twentieth Century (p. 317) that the Land O'Lakes statement., took on a life of its own as a symbolic manifesto that marked the opening of a new era in American Catholic higher education . [It] was, indeed, a declaration of independence from the hierarchy and a symbolic turning point. It confirmed at the college and university level what John Cogley told Catholic educators the year before: the church's future path might remain unclear, but her "cold war with modernity" was definitely over. What makes Land O'Lakes so important? Let us note, first, three issues that have been explicit or implicit in higher-educa-tion statements ever since the Land O'Lakes statement: (1) insti-tutional autonomy, meaning no outside interference in the educational operations of universities; (2) academic freedom, mean-ing scholars are to be restricted only by the limitations of their own sciences; and (3) fidelity to the teachings of the church, that is, abiding by the authoritative teachings of the Catholic Church's magisterium. Land O'Lakes started a movement that put so much importance on the first two--institutional autonomy and academic freedom, both understood as demanding independence from church authority--that the church responded by making fidelity to Review for Religious the magisterium an essential characteristic of Catholic education. And so what did Land O'Lakes say? It asserted the primacy of the Catholic university as a university. In the brief document of about 1500 words (composed largely by Robert J. Henle SJ,6 who was then academic vice president of Saint Louis University and later was president of Georgetown University), the first paragraph is especially important: The Catholic university today must be a university in the full modern sense of the word, with a strong commitment to and concern for academic excellence. To perform its teaching and research functions effectively, the Catholic university must have a true autonomy and academic free-dom in the face of authority of whatever kind, lay or cler-ical, external to the academic community itself. To say this is simply to assert that institutional autonomy and aca-demic freedom are essential conditions of life and growth and indeed of survival for Catholic universities as for all universities.7 The document goes on to say that "every university, Catholic or not, serves as the critical reflective intelligence of its society" and that, "in keeping with this general function, the Catholic univer-sity., should carry on a continual examination of all aspects and all activities of the church and should objectively evaluate them" (Gallin, p. 9). This may have been more of a contribution from Catholic universities than the Vatican was interested in having. Representatives of the four regional meetings met in September 1968 at the Eighth Triennial Congress of IFCU in Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo. The Kinshasa docu-ment, titled "The Catholic University in the Modern World," states, consistently with Vatican II, that a Catholic university draws its inspiration "from the light of revealed truth," making the university a "center for development and diffusion of an authentic Christian culture." There are no juridical aspects in the Kinshasa document: Catholic universities are only asked to accept voluntarily the '!Church's teaching authority" (Gallin, pp. 13-16, at 14-15). In May 1969 an international meeting of thirty elected dele-gates of Catholic universities met in Rome and drew up a document titled "The Catholic University and the Aggiornamento." Both Henle and Hesburgh were present at this congress. It was here that the four essential characteristics of a Catholic university were September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae composed, which became a part of standard Catholic documenta-tion from then on, including Ex corde ecclesiae (Hellwig, p. 22): 1. A Christian inspiration not only of individuals but of the university community as such. 2. A continuing reflection in the light of the Catholic faith upon the growing treasury of human knowledge, to which it seeks to contribute by its own research. 3. Fidelity to the Christian message as it comes to us through the church. 4. An institutional commitment to the service of the peo-ple of God and of the human family in their pilgrimage to the transcendent goal which gives meaning to life. (Ex corde ecclesiae, Origins 20, no. 17 I4 October 1990]: 269) The 1969 document takes a very strong stand on the inde-pendence of the university. In line with the thinking of Land O'Lakes and the Kinshasa statements, the 1969 document reit-erates that a Catholic university "must have a true autonomy and academic freedom," but even more strongly it states that a Catholic university must be allowed to pursue the truth "without conditions." It asserts that "every limitation imposed on the uni-versity which would clash with this unconditioned attitude for pursuing truth would be intolerable and contrary to the very nature of the university." The only obligation the university has, according to the document, is "to the legitimate exigencies of the society which sustains it," meaning civil society. The document states that the magisterium "can intervene only in a situation where the truth of the revealed message is at stake," but even then it does not state how this intervention would occur, but only that university statutes must be observed. The theologian "is bound. ¯. to take into proper account the pronouncements of the church" and "must. present the authentic teaching of the church," but nothing is said about what would happen if he does not. The doc-ument explicitly states for the first time that. "any juridical inter-vention in university affairs must be excluded" (Gallin, pp. 17-35 at 17-20). This issue of a juridical relationship between the church and th( university becomes the major bone of contention in sub-sequent debate. The second international congress convened by the Sacred Congregation for CatholicEducation and IFCU and held in Rome in November 1972 apprdved a document titled "The Catholic Review ?or Religious University in the Modern World." Considerable attention is given in the document to "Relations with the Catholic Hierarchy." The document recognizes that there is a "delicate balance to be main-tained between the autonomy of a Catholic university and the responsibilities of the hierarchy." The document reiterates the 1969 position that "theologians must present the authentic doctrine of the church," but insists that they "be able to pursue their dis-cipline in the same manner as other research scholars." While the document.recognizes the right of the magisterium to pass judgment on the doctrinal integrity of a theologian's teaching, it nevertheless calls for "a kind of self-regulation of the Catholic academic community." Consistent with the 1969 document, the authors assert that there is to be no "juridical intervention, whether direct or indirect, in the institutional affairs of the university" (Gallin, pp. 37-57 at 53-56). When the plenary assembly of the Sacred Congregati'on for Catholic Education met in 1973, however, it found the 1972 document to need improvement. Here for the first time Rome begins to inter-vene. A letter of Cardinal Gabriel Garrone, prefect of the con-gregation; written to the university presidents, makes three points: (1) the statutes of Catholic universities musl~ declare their "com-mitment as 'Catholic'"; (2) "appropriate andefficacious instru-ments" of "self-regulation,' regarding faith and morality must be established; and (3) the universities must "in no way" consider themselves "removed" from their "relationships" with the hier-archy (Gallin, pp. 59-61 at 60). What exactly that means is unclear, but I think we can see here the beginnings of a backlash against the idea of pure self-regulation that began with Land O'Lakes in 1967. To understand these meetings of educators, we need two back-ground elements. First, throughout the 1970s, there was an increaso At the plenary assembly of the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education in 1973, we can see the beginnings of a backlash against the idea of pure self-regulation that began with Land O'Lakes in 1967. September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae ing movement toward incorporation of colleges and universities separate from the religious congregations that founded them. This, it was argued, was necessary to maintain the constitutional sepa-ration of church and state required to receive the federal and state funding necessary to survive. At the same time, the boards of trustees of these institutions became predominantly lay. This, it was argued, was in compliance with Vatican II's new theology of the laity and the need for the expertise and financial resources the laity could bring to Catholic education. Thus a new movement deliberately alienating Catholic universities from their relation-ship to the church and religious orders set in, and sometimes with-out any consultation with the church hierarchy. This caused the Vatican to wonder what was happening to American Catholic higher education, and to ask whether it still remained Catholic (Gallin, pp. 63-64). Second, in June 1975 the Vatican began to move forward on an apostolic constitution that appeared in 1979: Sapientia Christiana (Christian Wisdom). Its purpose was to regulate the life of "eccle-siastical faculties," sometimes called "pontifical" institutes. These are universities directly chartered or erected and approved by the Vatican (The Catholic University of America in Washington, D.C., is one of these). The juridical framework of this discussion was directed toward complying with the demands the new Code of Canon Law was to make upon "ecclesiastical" faculties. This doc-ument was being prepared to regulate these "ecclesiastical facul-ties," not Catholic universities. But the mere preparations for this document caused Catholic universities to fear, correctly, that some kind of juridical restructuring was also awaiting them (Gallin, pp. 63-64). When it became known with the first official draft of the new Code in 1978 that new juridical and canonical bonds were also to be established for Catholic universities, many American Catholic educators struggled to get those canons revised or dropped, but to no avail. The new Code appeared in 1983 with, in canon 812, the dreaded word mandatum used for the first timE. It reads: Those who teach theological disciplines in any institutes of higher education whatsoever must have a mandate (man-datum) from the competent ecclesiastical authority. The new canons did not cause much interest at Catholic institutions in America at first, for it was generally held that they would not be applicable in the United States, where juridical ties to the church Review for Religious did not exist and where a rigorous system of separation of church and state was constitutionally binding (Hellwig, pp. 25-28). But Rome saw otherwise. In 1980 the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education started working on a document for Catholic universities. After the new Code appeared, the document was adapted to fit the new canons 807-814 governing Catholic uni-versities. A working document, called "Draft Schema of a Pontifical Document on Catholic Universities," was composed in April 1985 and sent to all bishops and university presidents for review. A sec-ond draft was made in 1988, and a new review panel of presidents and bishops met with John Paul II and congregation officials in Rome in April 1989. This panel recommended that normative principles should be few and general in nature, and that they be adapted by regional bishops' conferences. The panel wanted no mention made of the juridical canons of the new canon law (Gallin, pp. 381-383 at 381-382). In August 1989 the congregation's draft-ing committee issued a third draft, taking into account the rec-ommendations that had been made. A further revision was presented to the October 1989 plenary session of the congregation and then to the pope. In September 1990 the apostolic constitu-tion on Catholic universities, Ex corde ecdesiae, was issued (Gallin, pp. 189-190; Hellwig, pp. 28-29). Many American presidents remained optimistic, even though the request for no mention of the new juridical canons of the Code was ignored. Still, they considered the constitution harmless enough if it was not applied to the American scene too stringently. The battle scene now changes. The document applying Ex corde ecclesiae to the United States was to be drawn up by American university presidents and the National Conference of Catholic Bishops. A committee of six bis'hops and eight presidents, chaired by Bishop John J. Leibrecht of Springfield-Cape Girardeau, Missouri, was formed. Its first draft, in 1993, met with so much dis-approval that it was promptly rejected as too juridical. Father Terry Toland, former president of St. Joseph's University, was enlisted, as director of the National Conference of Catholic Bishops' Committee to Review and Implement the Apostolic Constitution Ex Corde Ecdesiae, to compose a more acceptable draft. After exten-sive conversations with bishops and presidents all across the coun-try, he presented a new draft to the bishops' conference in November 1996; it passed 224 to 6. September- October 2000 Tripole * Ex Corde Ecdesiae By early summer 1997, what was sent to Rome and thought to be a final document was sent back as a "first draft" that was unacceptable without juridical ordinances. The document did not have any juridical elements and, instead, spoke of "trust between university and church authorities, close and consistent collaboration, and continuing dialogue" (Hellwig, pp. 34-35). A concession that Cardinal Anthony Bevilacqua had received enabled the document to pass overwhelmingly. Canon 812, which contains the requirement that theologians get a man-date from the local bishop, had been completely removed from consideration even though it was in Ex corde ecclesiae. Now it was simply mentioned in footnote 7 as a point that "would be the sub-ject of further study" (Hellwig, pp. 35-36). By early summer 1997, what was sent to Rome and thought to be a final document was sent back as a "first draft" that was unacceptable without juridi-cal ordinances. The sacred congregation specifically asked that canon 812 be con-sidered no~v, along with the "requirement that presidents and theology teachers make the profession of faith and take the oath of fidelity that canon law requires of chui'ch officials" (Hellwig, p. 36). Back at the drawing board, Bishop Leibrecht appointed a sub-committee headed by Cardinal Bevilacqua and composed of canon lawyers. Their proposal, which restored juridical elements to the document, Was presented for discussion at the bishops' annual meeting in November 1998. It caused problems. Archbishop Rembert Weakland, of Milwaukee, proposed that the bishops reject the juridical app.roach and send once again the 1996 proposal that called only for trust, collaboration, and continuing dialogue. This was seconded by the Association of Catholic Colleges and Universities (ACCU) in February 1999, but the idea never suc-ceeded. In April 1999 Monika Hellwig, representing ACCU, and Charles Currie SJ, former rector of the Jesuit community at St. Joseph's University and now head of the Association of Jesuit Colleges and Universities (AJCU), went to Rome to press their views with the Congregation for Catholic Education and, back in the United States, continued to lobby the bishops here. Review for Religious In June 1999 the American bishops met to review all the com-ments made on the third draft. The subcommittee met again in September to work on a fourth draft. This was presented at the annual fall meeting in Washington in November 1999. Again ACCU and AJCU lobbied strongly to get the bishops to reject.the docu-ment, which needed a two-thirds majority to pass, and they felt they might succeed. But this document applying Ex corde ecclesiae to the United States was overwhelmingly approved by a vote of 223-31 with one abstention. "Application" went to Rome for approval by the Sacred Congregation for Catholic Education, whose new head was Archbishop Giuseppe Pittau SJ, and by the Council for the Interpretation of Legal Documents. It was returned recently with approval and only minor modifications. On 1 June 2000 the American bishops indicated that "Application" will go into effect in this country on 3 May 2001, one year after it was approved by the Congregation for Bishops in Rome. Let us now discuss the theology operating in both Ex come ecclesiae and "An Application to the United States" and then discuss the issues of contention. Theological Justification for Ex Corde Ecclesiae The title of the apostolic constitution Ex corde ecdesiae (From the heart of the church) suggests the whole story. The document's position is that Catholic universities exist as an integral part of the life of the church. The document says, "Every Catholic uni-versity., has a relationship to the church that is essential to its institutional identity" (§27). As such, the Catholic university shares in the mission of the church and is governed, like any other Catholic entity, by the local bishop and through him by the mag-isterium of the universal church. Its specific mission as a univer-sity, says Ex corde ecclesia.e, is "a continuous quest for truth through its research, and the preservatign and communication of knowledge for the good of society" (§30), but this mission as a university can never be separated from its larger mission (shared by all members of the Christian community) to deepen the presence of Christ in the world (§16). One of the roles of the university, according to Ex corde eccle-siae, is to "promote dialogue between faith and reason" so that the world becomes ever more aware of the "unity of all truth" (§ 17). Accordingly, the university's quest for truth and the promotion of September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecdesiae the dignity of human persons can never be separated from the vision of Truth that comes through revelation and is made known by the church through the magisterium's teaching "in matters of faith and morals" (§27). The goal of Catholic universities is there-fore to be of service both to the church and to society. This it does as a university by being an "instrument of cultural progress for individuals as well as for society"; but as a Catholic university it must also serve the church in the "development of a true Christian anthropology founded on the person of Christ" (§§32-33). Most of the critics of Ex corde ecclesiae argue, ~s we have seen as early as the Land O'Lakes statement in 1967, that Catholic uni-versities must enjoy "a true autonomy and academic freedom in the face of authority of whatever kind, lay or clerical, external to the academic community itself" (Gallin, p. 7). As the document "The Catholic University and the Aggiornamento" asserted in 1969 and as was repeatedly urged by many Catholic educators thereafter, the theologian "must be able to pursue his discipline in the same manner as other research scholars," and have his work evaluated only by his peers "as is the case in other disciplines" (Gallin, p. 20). Autonomy here is understood as freedom from restraints of any kind external to the discipline. The church's perspective is quite different. If the university is Catholic, the university's autonomy includes the church. Thus, whereas critics argue that the bishop's governance constitutes an external constraint upon the life of the university, Ex corde ecclesiae argues that, "even when they do not enter directly into the inter-nal governance of the university, bishops 'should be seen not as external agents but as participants in the life of the Catholic uni-versity'" (§28) because the university is part of the life of the church. "Ex Corde Ecclesiae: An Application to the United States" (1999) expresses an even richer and deeper theological foundation for the integration of the university into the life of the church. Based on the teaching of Vatican II, "Application" argues from an "ecclesi-ology of communion" that the "church is made up of individual faithful and communities linked with one another [and with the tri-une God] through many active ecclesial relationships." The "dynamic of communion," according to "Application," unites on a deeper level "the various communities in the church" through which her "mission of salvation" operates. "The Catholic univer-sity is [seen] as a vital institution in the communion of the church and [as] 'a primary and privileged place for a fruitful dialogue Review for Religious between the gospel and culture.'" This "richness of communion" brings out the "complementary teaching roles of bishops and Catholic universities." Each has its own "distinctive autonomous nature and goal," but in the unity of communion they "are joined as complementary activities," embracing both the pastoral work of bishops and the academic work of Catholic universities, thus linking the bishops' right and obligation to communicate and safeguard the integrity of church doctrine with the right and obligation of Catholic universities to investigate, analyze, and communicate all truth freely. Thus the Catholic university as such has a "twofold relationship"-- one to the "international community of knowledge," the other to the church--"of guaranteeing in institutional form a .Christian presence in the university world" (Part 1, II and III). Issues of Contention Now I mention some of the issues of contention that these two documents address: 1. Ex corde ecclesiae states under its General Norms that all Catholic universities must conform their governin.g statutes to the general norms listed in Ex corde ecclesiae and must submit these statutes "for approval to the competent ecclesiastical authority" (II, Art. 1, no. 3) This could be seen by some presidents as a major violation of the autonomy of the university and, if implemented, as a matter for litigation. 2. Ex corde ecclesiae states that university administrators are to be recruited who "are both willing and able to promote., or at least to respect" the "Catholic identity of the university" (II, Art. 4, nos. 1-2). "Application" goes even further, saying that "the uni-versity president should be a Catholic" (Part 2, Art. 4, 3a). But, since "Application" says '!should be" and not "must be," the imple-mentation will depend upon how rigorously the local bishops wish to enforce it. 3. The same applies to boards of trustees. According to Ex corde ecclesiae, the board members must be informed of their respon-sibility to promote or respect the Catholic identity; but in "Application" the norm says further: "To the extent possible, the majority of the board should be Catholics committed to the church" (Part 2, Art. 4, 2b). Note again that the norm, while being September-October 2000 Tripole ¯ Ex Corde Ecclesiae more rigorous, demands implementation only "to the extent pos-sible," which leaves room for exceptions. The critical issue here, however, is how to determine whether a Catholic is "committed to the church." Though this phrase is not as vague as the original "faithful Catholic" requirement, it does not offer any precise way of measurement. 4. When the university president assumes office, according to "Application," the "Catholic should express his or her commit-ment to the university's Catholic identity and to the Catholic faith in accordance with canon 833, 7°'' (which states that the rector of a Catholic university, upon assuming that office, is "obliged per-sonally to make a profession of faith" to the local bishop or his delegate). If the president is not a Catholic, a "commitment to the university's Catholic mission and identity" is required (17 November 1999 "Application" [Origins 29, no. 25, 2 December 1999], Part 2, Art. 4, 3a, and endnote 36). These norms will seem unduly rigorous to many presidents and a violation of institutional autonomy. 5. "All professors are expected to be aware of and committed to the Catholic mission and identity of their institutions" ("Application," Part 2, Art. 4, 4a). This obviously will create fear among non-Catholic instructors, who will see this as a violation of academic freedom and a matter that could be used to deny tenure. 6. According to the "Application" of 1999, "the university should strive to recruit and appoint Catholics as professors so that, to the extent possible, those committed to the witness of the faith will constitute a majority of the faculty" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4a). Notice again the more rigorous norm, but with the qualifier "to the extent possible" and with the problem of how to measure commitment. On the one hand, the qualifier provides an opening--it does not have to be enforced; on the other hand, the requirement for com-mitment leaves open the possibility of arbitrary interpretation. 7. According to Ex corde ecclesiae, "all Catholic teachers are to be faithful to, and all other teachers are to respect, Catholic doc-trine and morals in their research and teaching" (II, Art. 4, no. 3). Again, many say this is a violation of academic freedom and that it will frighten nonconformist Catholic instructors and non- Catholic instructors who have unorthodox moral viewpoints from joining Catholic faculties: 8. Ex corde ecclesiae grants that "freedom in research and teach-ing" is proper to scholarly activity, but adds: "so long as the rights Review for Religious of the individual and of the community are preserved within the confines of the truth and the common good" (II, Art. 2, no. 5). For secular scholars, freedom is restricted only by the rules of one's discipline; for the church, freedom is conditioned by the truth as made known in the revelation of God in the Scriptures, tradition, and the teaching of the magisterium (II, Art. 2, no. 5; Art. 4, no. 3). 9. Probably the most contentious issue of all concerns the requirement that the local bishop authorize every theologian. Both documents declare that all those teach-ing "theological disciplines" must receive a "mandate" or "mandaturn''8 from him. This was the sticking point already in Ex corde ecclesiae, where canon 812 is cited in a foot-note (II, Art. 4, no. 3 and endnote 50). "Application" states even more strongly, in the body of the document and not simply in a footnote, canon 812: "Catholics who teach the theological disciplines are required to have a mandatum granted by competent ecclesiastical authority" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e). The "mandaturn" is explained as "a tech-nical term referring to the juridical expression of the ecclesial rela-tionship of communion that exists between the church and the Catholic teacher of a theological discipline in the Catholic uni-versity" ("Application," endnote 41). The mandaturn acknowledges that the Catholic professor "is a teacher within the full communion of the Catholic Church" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e, 1). It "recognizes the professor's commitment and responsibility to teach authentic Catholic doctrine and to refrain from putting forth as Catholic teaching anything contrary to the church's magisterium" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e, 3). The declaration that the professor will teach in com-munion with the church is to "be expressed by the profession of faith and oath of fide!ity or in any other reasonable manner accept-able to the one issuing the rnandaturn" (endnote 42). The manda-turn "should be given in writing" and "remains in effect wherever and as long as the professor teaches unless and until withdrawn by competent ecclesiastical authority" (Part 2, Art. 4, 4e, c and b). Nothing is stated about what would happen if a theologian does not ask for or receive the rnandaturn or loses it. The justification for the The most contentious issue of all concerns the requirement that the local bishop authorize every theologian. September-October 2000 Tripole * Ex Corde Ecclesiae mandatum "is grounded in the right and responsibility of bishops to safeguard the faithful teaching of Catholic doctrine to the peo-ple of God and to assure the authentic presentation of the church's magisterium" (endnote 41). Conclusion Why are Ex corde ecdesiae and its "Application to the United States" causing so much excitement in higher-education circles? Ex corde ecclesiae originally received favorable press from Catholic educators because it restored to consciousness the importance of maintaining Catholic identity in our schools. Whereas in the 1970s and 1980s we were affirming that our schools were in the Catholic (and Jesuit) tradition, implying a certain aloofness from that tradition, now, in this new era that stresses individuality and uniqueness,, stressing our Catholic (and Jesuit) identity is in vogue. The problem comes with dictating what precisely constitutes this identity. The Vatican wants a juridical relationship that demands that this identity include communion with the Catholic Church and fidelity to its teachings. Opponents want this identity to come from a more attenuated relationship to the church, allow-ing for great latitude, great freedom, of thought and action. This is nothing more than an expression of the deep division con-stantly being expressed in Catholicism today between those who understand their Catholic identity to include conformity to the teachings of the church and those who do not. And so it is pre-cisely the juridical aspect of "Application" that is at the center of the controversy. Thus, since Vatican II, Catholic higher education has taken two roads: (1) toward greater integration into the life of the church and conformity to the church's teachings and (2) toward greater separation from dcclesiastical control, with Catholic iden-tity determined by individual criteria and self-regulation. Ultimately what is at issue here is the role of the church in mod-ern Catholic life. Notes ~ See Philip Gleason, Contending with Modernity: Catholic Higher Education in the Twentieth Century (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995), esp. pp. 12-17 and 318-322. Gleason summarizes Modernism this way: "Modernism has been described as a many-faceted effort to accom-modate Catholic teaching to the 'collective change in mentality' taking Review for Religious place in the late nineteenth century, and it raised new questions about many aspects of Catholic doctrine. Among the more serious were ques-tions dealing with 'the nature of revelation, of biblical inspiration, and of religious knowledge, the personality of Christ and his true role in the origins of the church and of its sacraments, the nature and function of the living tradition on the Catholic system and the limits of dogmatic evo-lution, the authority of the church's magisterium and the real import of the concept of orthodoxy, [and] the value of the classical apologetic" (Gleason, p. 12, brackets in the original; citing Roger Aubert et al., The Church in a Secularized Society, Vol. 5 of The Christian Centuries [New York: Paulist Press, 1978], p. 191). 2 See Alice Gallin OSU, ed., American Catholic Higher Education: Essential Documents, 1967-1990 (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1992), p. 2; and James L. Heft SM, "Have Catholic Colleges Reached an Impasse?" Chronicle of Higher Education 46, no. 2 (12 November 1999): B6-B7. 3Monika K. Hellwig, "The American Catholic University and the Apostolic Constitution Ex Corde Ecclesiae," Current Issues in Catholic Higher Education 20, no. 1 (Fall 1999): 21-40 at 21. 4John Paul II, "Ex corde ecclesiae: The Apostolic Constitution on Catholic Universities," Origins 20, no. 17 (4 October 1990): 265-276; from CNS's marginal background data, 267-272 at 268. 5 David J. O'Brien, "The Land O'Lakes Statement," Boston College Magazine 58, no. 1 (Winter 1998): 38-45 at 39. 6Oral conversation in spring 1999 with Rev. Paul C. Reinert SJ, then (1967) president of Saint Louis University, who was at the meeting. 7 "Land O'Lakes Statement: The Nature of the Contemporary Catholic University," Gallin, pp. 7-12 at 7. 8 "Application" uses the Latin "mandatum." Post-Vatican II Statements on Catholic Higher Education 1967: Land O'Lakes, Wisconsin: North American Regional Meeting of the International Federation of Catholic Universities (IFCU). Its doc-ument, "The Nature of the Contemporary Catholic University," asserts "institutional autonomy" and "academic freedom" as essential to Catholic universities. 1968: Kinshasa, Democratic Republic of Congo: Eighth Triennial Congress of IFCU. Its document is called "The Catholic University in the Modern World." 1969: Rome: International Congress of Delegates of Catholic Universities. Its document, "The Catholic University and the Aggiornamento," names four essential characteristics of a Catholic university. 1972: Rome: 2nd International Congress of the Sacred Congregation September-October 2000 Tri~ole ¯ Ex Gorde Eccle~iae for Catholic Education (SCCE) and IFCU. Its document is called "The Catholic University in the Modern World." 1973: Rome: Plenary Assembly of the SCCE. Letter from Cardinal Gabriel Garrone, prefect of SCCE, directing improvements of the 1972 doc-ument. 1979: Vatican: Sapientia Christiana, apostolic constitution for "pontifi-cal" institutions. 1983: Rome: Code of Canon Law (1983), canons 807-814 regarding uni-versities. Canon 812: Catholic theologians required to have "mandate" from local ecclesiastical authority. 1985: Rome: SCCE. Its document is called "Draft Schema of a Pontifical Document on Catholic Universities." 1990: Vatican: Ex Corde Ecclesiae: Apostolic Constitution on Catholic Universities. In Origins 20, no. 17 (4 October 1990). 1993: Washington: National Conference of Catholic Bishops (NCCB). Its document is the first draft of "Ex Corde Ecclesiae: An Application to the United States." In Origins 23, no. 27 (16 December 1993). 1996: Washington: NCCB. Second and "final" draft passed 224-6 and was sent to Rome. In Origins 26, no. 24 (28 November 1996). 1997: Rome: SCCE rejects this "first" draft; requires juridical ordinances; subcommittee is formed to draft a new document. 1998: Washington: NCCB. Third draft is discussed but not voted on. In Origins 28, no. 25 (3 .December 1998). 1999: Washington: NCCB. Its document, the fourth draft of the sub-committee's "Application," requiring a mandatum, passed 223-31-I, was sent to Rome and accepted by Rome with a few minor changes. See Origins 29, no. 25 (2 December 1999) and Origins 30, no. 5 (15 June 2000). Two authors who appeared in our last issue went to God before it went to press: Sister Bernadine Pieper CHM, on 20 February 2000, one day before her eighty-second birthday, and Father Hilary Ottensmeyer OSB, on 17 May 2000, at seventy-six years of age. Let us remember them and their communities in prayer. Review for Religious STAN PARMISANO Theology Lived in Faith Back in 1966 the Dominican School in Berkeley, California, was inaugurated, the first Catholic seminary within the Graduate Theological Union (GTU). The Dominican master gen-eral, Aniceto Fernfindez, was present for the grand occasion. He outlined for the public at large the projected purpose of the school? It was to be a community of study, research, and teaching in dialogue with the other faiths of the union and the university. It was to be ecumenical in the widest sense, embracing not only other Christian churches but other religions and no religion as well. The master general, like some before and many since, saw California, the State of California, as the most fitting place for ecumenical study. It was the Western world, but looking to the East. He said that California "is the society of the future. Here the changes which all society eventually will face are already tak-ing place. And here the problems which the new social situation will create for eve/Tone are already manifest." It was, he said, for the religious community to enter into dialogue with all who were confronting these problems and trying to solve them. This projected endeavor was not to be a matter of mind only but of life. It was to be a theology out of life experience and toward life's betterment. So the master general emphasized the contem-plative foundation of the school. He did not in his formal address spell out for the general public precisely what he meant by "the contemplative," but to Dominicans listening to a Dominican his Stan Parmisano OP wrote for us in the early 1970s and in the late 1980s. This article of his was a recent commencement address. His address is Saint Albert's Priory; 5890 Birch Court; Oakland, California 94618. September-October 2000 Parmisano ¯ Theology Lived in Faith meaning was clear enough: the school was to be grounded not just on contemplative prayer, prayer that quietly listens for the Lord, but on the contemplative life, living with and for the Lord. Later, in his visitation report to the Western Dominicans as a whole, he made this quite explicit.2 His directive reads: "A new priorial house is to be established at Berkeley in which there is to be the perfect Dominican life of regular [religious] observance." With this in place, "the fathers assigned there are to be ded-icated to higher and ecumenical studies." Emphasis upon the con-templative religious life of which study was both part and product was no innovation on the part of Father Fernfindez. It was the tradition of the Dominican order from its beginnings, perhaps more in the breach than in full observance, but it was the ideal that Dominicans were to be held to. They were not only to think their theology but live it, and live it antecedently to their think-ing it. It was out of a life centered upon God that thought about God and the things of God was to emerge. That was some thirty years ago. Today's theologians also come to thought out of their life experience, but often it is experience of the human dimension that has priority. God is there, but off to the side or hidden away under the human, or inhuman, situation-- as is frequently the fact in our contemporary world. It is by being immersed in a given time and place, by living the life of particu-lar assemblages of people, that we come to know them and their special problems and so can begin to theologize about them. The more traditional theology--that which, true to its name, has God (theos) as its object and center--also demands experience of the human, though more of the divine; but, if the human, the divine within it, which makes it truly human and keeps it so. It observes the priority of the Scriptures: "In the beginning God." and "In the beginning was the Word."; the priority of the decalogue and the gospel's summation of it (God first, self and neighbor second); the priority in prayer as Jesus taught it (first, recognition of the Father and his holiness, then the speaking of our needs); the pri-ority set by Jesus for his own life (he was the man for others, but first among others was his Father). Though Jesus was marvelously human, he was much more wonderfully divine. People, yes, but as beloved of God and in their deepest heart yearning for God! The human situation, yes, but as measured by the divine! Creation, yes again; but as issuing from, held by, and continually moving back to its Creator! Living with Re~i~ for Religio~s God as he is in himself, and searching him out as he is immanent in creation, we come to share his view of the world, what he wants and expects of us, not just what we and our world expect and want for ourselves. So the master general in 1966, so the whole of Dominican tradition! The school has changed through the thirty years of its exis-tence. It is not now just a school by and for Dominicans. It has embraced other traditions, whether lay or religious, and looks to profit from the variety of its membership as well as contribute to those involved with it. But what must at all costs be maintained is its initial fundamental principle that thought about God--theol-ogy- must bud from a life rooted in God, whether that life takes on a specifically Dominican character or another of a wide variety of possible lifestyles. Other great religions besides Christianity are in agreement. For Buddha, anyone who is content to know the ultimate Reality only theoretically, or merely by hearsay, is like a herdsman of others' cows. For Mohammed, the person who thinks about Allah without having really experienced him is just an ass bearing a load of books. These words resonate with the begin-nings of Christian thinking: it was only because the Apostles and early disciples lived with Christ, ate, drank, and spoke with him, listened to him, touched and were touched by him, that they were able to secure the proper theological foundation of the church. Basic to this life with God and consequent study of God and the things of God is, of course,faith, faith in the sense of creed, the body of revealed truths that become the first principles of Christian theology, but also faith as the God-given virtue or power within us by which we actually accept these revelations and see in and beyond them to God himself. Living with God presupposes that we lovingly know the God we are living with. Due objection may be raised to my use of the terms "see" and "know" in relation to the divine and to faith, for God is the hid-den one, the unknown and unknowable, and faith is traditionally opposed to seeing. "We walk by faith, not by sight," says St. Paul (2 Co 5:7); and in Hebrews 11:I we find faith defined as "the con-viction [or evidence] of things unseen." If one should object that, as Jesus himself said (Jn 20:29), the Apostle Thomas believed because he had seen ("You believe, Thomas, because you have seen"), Aquinas, in good Christian tradition, glosses that what Thomas "saw" was not the divinity of Christ, but only his human-ity. Seeing this, he was then able to believe in Christ's divinity September-October 2000 Parmisano ¯ Theology Lived in Faith (Summa Theologiae, 2a-2ae, 1, 4 ad I). Eastern religions are just as emphatic concerning the unknowability of the divine: "The ignorant," the Third Upanishad declares, "think that Brahman [God] is known, but the wise know him to be beyond knowledge.''3 A whole body of wisdom old and young suggests, however, that things are not quite so negative. The text from the Upanishad just quoted is preceded by this: "One truly knows Brahman who knows him as beyond knowledge." And it is followed by: "Through knowledge of Brahman comes power. Through knowledge of Brahman comes victory over death." Apparently Brahman can be known at the same time he is not known. There is similar ambi-guity in St. Paul. For him, faith is of the unseen, yet he can also say regarding our experience of God: "We see now darkly, as in a mirror" (1 Co 13:12). We see "darkly," but we do see. Aquinas, like St. Paul here, though firm as to our inability to know or see God in this life, concedes some slight knowledge of God to be possible, even for the ungraced rational mind, and, in question after question in Part 1 of his Summa Theologiae, he lavishly and beautifully demonstrates his point. He also places the virtue of faith primarily in the intellect, the knowing faculty. Faith, for him, though of the unknown and unseen, is an intel-ligent act (ST 2a-2ae, 4, 2). For St. John of the Cross, God is the Nada, Nothing, the Night, but a far cry from that opaque night and nothingness prayed to by one of Ernest Hemingway's faith-less souls: "Our Nada who art in Nada, Nada be thy Nada . " St. John's night and nothingness is rather luminous and fully alive, "a night," he says, "which guided me, more surely than the light of noonday, / to the place where he (well I knew who!) was awaiting me." "Well I knew who!" Knowledge of the one he did not know! The ambiguity may be resolved when we consider that God is darkness not to the total human understanding, but only to one level of it, that is, to the mind as we, in Western, and now in Eastern tradition infected by the West, generally and narrowly regard it: rational consciousness, the discursive self-directive mind. But there are other levels, just as present to us and perhaps more continuously operative. "O the mind, mind has mountains," wrote Gerard Manley Hopkins, overwhelmed at the sight of them. And Freud and Jung with their myriad disciples spent lifetimes explor-ing and categorizing them into conscious, unconscious, subcon-scious, superconscious mind. The great religions of the world have Review for Religious long since known of them, as Aldous Huxley suggests in his sum-mation of the second of our tenets held in common by them: "Human beings are capable not merely of knowing aboz~t the Divine Ground by inference; they can also realize its existence by a direct intuition, superior to discursive reasoning. This immediate knowl-edge unites the knower with that which is known.''4 Much of both sacred and profane literature speaks of these alternative modes of knowing. There is the Atman of Hindu literature, the Self with a capital S, which is identified with Brahman, the transcendent God, now inter-nalized: when one knows, one is conscious of oneself as knowing, but within oneself and out of sight it is Brahman himself as Atman who is the knower. The Tenth Upanishad says: "Unseen, but the seer; unheard, but the hearer; unthinkable, but the thinker; unknown, but the knower--there is no seer but he, there is no hearer but he. there is no knower but he. He, the Self, is the Inner Ruler, the Immortal."s This seems not much different, really, from the Catholic Christian conception of grace, which is the very life of God become our own, such that God's knowing becomes ours, his loving becomes ours--God liv-ing and knowing and loving in, with, and through us, making no sense to those who think only in terms of conscious thought and of Christianity as a matter of mere morality or of a distant love (God up there, I down here), but making the best of sense to those listening to Christ himself as he prays "that all may be one as you, Father, are in me, and I in you. I pray that they may be [one] in us ¯. that your love for me may live in them, and I may live in them" (Jn 17:20-21, 26). The operative word~ here are "one" and "in," which struck St. Paul so forcefully, leading to his preaching of the Mystical Body, and which led g~eat theologians like Augustine and Aquinas and many Christian mystics to see God as closer to us than we to ourselves. Out of this source of knowing--God's in mine, mine in God's--comes knowledge of the Unknowable. Blaise Pascal, who was much enamored of the conscious, dis-cursive mind and in fact was one of the world's great mathemati-cians, finally realized--through an experience of what he took to be God--a higher dimension of knowing and gave it classical Living with God presupposes that we lovingly know the God we are living with. September-October 2000 Parmisano * Theology Lived in Faith expression: "The heart has reasons that reason does not know." John Keats in one of his best poems sings of another level of "hear-ing" besides the sensual and the rational: "Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard / Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; / Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared, / Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone." T.S. Eliot takes up the same thought and deepens and expands it. He speaks of "music heard so deeply that it is not heard at all but you are the music while the music lasts." The frustrated child psychologist in Peter Shaffer's Equus, after dabbling in religion with purely rational conscious knowing, in the end cries for another kind of knowledge: "I need more des-perately than my children need me a way of seeing in the dark." And on and on. The virtue of faith is, in Christian tradition, this kind of non-rational, nondiscursive, unconscious knowing. It is this graced ele-ment of true vision that not only begins our theologizing, but is meant to run all through it, to guide and direct it, and at the end of the process to be itself expanded and deepened. Theology is not a castle built upon air, not a rational structure erected on fig-ments of blind faith that a defensive apologetics thinks it has bol-stered effectively from without. Faith is not a blind act, it is seeing. And so theology is intellective from top to bottom, a seeing or understanding all the way. Doubt and questioning will be there, even apparent rejection of my faith, but these may be only on the level of my conscious mind, leaving my deeper, inexpressible vision steady and intact. This all-pervasiveness of faith in theology has its counterpart in fine works of art, and may be better understood by considering them. If we limit our examples to the art of literature, we may cite the great Dante Alighieri, a man of prodigious faith and high consciousness, an ardent lover of rational, deliberative thought, though with a poetic instinct that could move beyond the rationally intelligible to sight, vision (fantasia) of something more. What makes his masterwork, the Divine Comedy, a great poem? Some critics have seen in it high poetic moments, but have denied its poetic character as a whole. They found too much that is unspon-taneous, deliberative, and therefore "unpoetic" about it: an over-all schema minutely worked out with mathematical precision, detailed scholastic argumentation, seemingly pointless disquisi-tions in an archaic science, crude and crass descriptions, and mat-ter- of-fact excursions into the politics of the day. Dante, some Review for Religious have suggested, would have been a better poet had he been less a philosopher. But such criticisms have been found wanting. There is something that runs all through that long poem, giving life and beauty to each of its parts, some of which in themselves may be mere prose, but in Dante's broad context are poetry. We can sort out the various elements: the story, the detailed and balanced schema, the theme and characters, the dialogue, the philosophy and theology that it incorporates and expresses, the imagery, the language, the music. But the poetry here is none of the above by itself or collectively. Rather it is the unconscious, unformu-latable vision that brought all these ele-ments into being, drew them all together in a wondrous unity, and remains within the poem seducing the listener into it. And within this overall vision the philosophy, the rational dis-course, rather than detracting from the poem, enhances it, giving it depth and breadth. Dante turns out to be a better poet precisely because he is much of a philosopher besides. So, too, in theology and preaching, all sorts of things are thought and said, but, if all is as it should be, each element springs out of and terminates in this dynamic underground river of under-standing, of faith. The conscious elements are there, but only to help the conscious mind grasp something of unconscious faith and deepen and broaden our experience of it. T.S. Eliot says: "We had the experience [faith] but missed the meaning, / And approach to the meaning [theology] restores the experience / In a different form, beyond any meaning / We can assign to happiness." It is the same for life as a whole. What was it, for instance, that held that remarkable little theologian St~ Th4r~se of Lisieux so tenaciously to God, to one she knew to be God and loved as such? It was not stubbornness or fanaticism or mere habit. Her writ-ings, the testimony of those who lived with her, and all the hard and minute ecclesiastical scrutiny of her life argue to the contrary. Anyone who reads her, especially her last letters and conversa-tions, must know it was some kind of vision that held her every moment of her life--but not a vision, finally, of conscious human perception or reflection. Conscious thought seemed, rather, to get in the way in those last days, and she experienced darkness as The virtue of faith is, in Christian tradition, this kind of nonrational, nondiscursive, unconscious knowing. Septentber-October 2000 Parmisano ¯ Theology Lived in Faith she tried to think about and pray to God, experiencing temptations against her faith. But under the darkness, penetrating through it to the light, was vision properly so designated, like the ability that eyes and rational intelligence have; though she herself scarcely knew with her conscious mind that it was there. It is life lived in and through this vision of faith that must per-meate and illuminate all study and creativity with respect to the divine. If this life is not there, we end up with a distortion of God and world. But, if it is, we can hopefully come to know God with God's own knowledge while experiencing as our own something of his perception of the world and of his compassion and redeem-ing activity for it. Notes i Father Fernfindez's address at the inaugural banquet at the Claremont Hotel, Berkeley, is printed in Season (Winter 1966): 197- 202. The address together with the foundation of the school is briefly dis-cussed in my history, Mission West: The Western Dominican Province, 18Y0-1966 (Oakland, California, 1997), pp. 409-418. 2 The visitation report is in the Western Dominican Archives, Xl:110(A). ¯ ¯ 3 As in The Upanishads: Breath of the Eternal, trans. Swami Prabhavananda and Frederick Manchester (New York: New American Library, 1960), p. 31. 4 Aldous Huxley's introduction to The Song of God: Bhagavad-Gita, trans. Swami Prabhavananda and Christopher Isherwood (New York: New American Library, 1955), p. 13. s The Upanishads, p. 96. Monks' Chant The rhythm of the chant, like quiet waves upon the sea, rocks my soul to peace. Maxine Inkel SL Review for Religious MATTHEW EGGEMEIER Generation X and Religious Life: A Personal View Generation Xers are an elusive and diverse genera-tion. It is a difficult task to pinpoint representative characteristics of a generation that spans twenty years. As a whole, Generation X embodies a myriad of char-acteristics, some of these quite different and some even diametrically opposed. As a member of this so-called Generation X and as one who is giving reli-gious life serious thought, I want to offer some reflections on Generation X literature and what reli-gious life looks like to me and at least some other members of my generation. Generation X is the cohort of those who were born between 1961 and 1981. The X stands for demogra-phers' inability to typify this generation by any single trend or belief. Demographers characterize Xers' lives as unstable, fragmented, secularized, and uncommit-ted. In general, Xers lack a solid formation in the church's teachings and often lack any strong sense of Catholic identity, an identity that was more present and important to preceding generations. Some researchers claim that Xers are the first generation to grow up in a post-Christian America, a situation affect-religious identity Matthew T. Eggemeier is a senior majoring in religious studies at the University of Dayton. His address is 4428 Parklawn Drive; Kettering, Ohio 45440. September-October 2000 Eggemeier ¯ Generation X and Religious Life ing the sociology and the psychology of Xers, particularly with respect to their attitudes toward religion. When attempting to describe Xers, some writers err, I believe, by absolutizing certain characteristics while ignoring others. Sometimes I have read that individuals within my gener-ation are leaving the church in droves. At other times I have read that Xers have great reverence for the church and the pope. I believe that the truth lies somewhere in the middle of these con-trary positions. Lilly Endowment recently published some findings about Generation X Catholics. In the study the authors state that, on the whole, Xer Catholics neither reject the institutional church nor are right of center with respect to it. Moreover, the authors say that Xers are far from "monolithic" and that any attempt to lump together their behaviors inevitably leads to an inaccurate generalization. These findings resonate with my own limited experience of my generation. I think it important that I briefly introduce myself and give the reader a betteridea of who I am. I am a twenty-two-year-old senior at the University of Dayton double-majoring in reli-gious studies and psychology. I was brought up in an upper-middle-class family in a suburb just outside of Dayton. I have two older brothers, one of whom is giving serious thought to entering a monastery. My mother is a sixth-grade teacher. My father is a professor of psychology who considered entering an active order out of high school. They have deeply held religious convictions that they lovingly imparted to their children. I have found support from both my parents and my brothers when I have expressed interest in religious life. In some respects I feel that my upbringing has been atypical in relation to many other Xers. Many have had life experiences that differ from mine, and I have observed a number of trends among them: secularization, isolation, instability, and postpone-ment of commitment. As I describe these trends, I will present what I think religious orders might do in response to them. While I do not presume to speak for all of my generation, I do know that I speak for some of us. Although the focus of this article per-tains to religious life as lived in an active order, some of the ideas may be useful to all religious looking for possible vocations. First and foremost, we Xers have grown up in a secularized culture, a culture that avoids outward expression of religious con- Review for Religious victions, a social climate in which religion has been removed from everyday life. Religion might govern one's personal rela-tionship with God, but it rarely affects one's entire lifestyle. Often I sense that others in my own peer group feel an uneasiness when religion or God is brought up as a topic of conversation. One's sex life is more readily discussed than one's religious beliefs. On the other hand, for those of us Xers who have deep religious con-victions and feel drawn to the church, outward expression of this conviction is an integral but muted aspect of our experience. We do not want to keep our religious beliefs hidden within us as though they were something we are embarrassed about or ashamed of. We want to share and express the deep joy and love that we have found in religion, but have a hard time doing so, given the nature of our secularized culture. I consider it essential, therefore, that religious trying to attract Xers not water down their commitment or disappear in secular culture. Forms of outward religious expres-sion can be attractive to Xers who see this as a witness to the sacred in the midst of a desacralized culture. Xers are known for their great spiritual hunger.1 In part, this hunger derives from living in a desacralized and secularized world. When this deep hunger for religious meaning has not been satisfied within the religious practice of families, many of us have looked outside of the traditional familial practices to come into contact with the transcendent meaning that we crave. Xers often come from broken homes and fragmented family lives that have not provided us with a stable sense of community and mean-ing. When we see, then, a community whose focus is the Ultimate, we see a unique and attractive lifestyle. The stability of solid community life, the focus of which is Christ, can be a refreshing change from the transient and fragmented lifestyles that have been the experience of many Xers. When speaking about the possibility of a vocation with one Of my friends who was brought up in a divorced family, I was told that, for her, one of the most attractive features of religious life is the stability of community life and its constant search for meaning. Just like many other Xers, her upbringing lacked consistent and stable familial relationships--and the meaning that one derives from such relationships. Xers are known for their great spiritual hunger. September-October 2000 Eggemeier ¯ Generation X and Religious Life Religious life can offer an Xer an insight into the meaning of life and death, but, more importantly, it offers the opportunity to live out this insight through the everyday structures and sup-ports of religious life. Religion offers meaning in abundance, but religious life is special in providing everyday community practices that foster spiritual growth in ways that are difficult to find on one's own. Many of my friends desire to incorporate God more deeply into their daily lives. It is a struggle, though, to follow through with this desire, given the hustle and bustle of every-day life and the relatively little support we receive in this regard from our peers. In other words, we understand that Christ should be the central meaning of life, but have trouble trans-lating this reality into a daily practice. Religious life offers Xers a lifestyle that is already centered on Christ and a disci-plined life that revolves around him and his work. As I see it, the main purpose of religious life is to cultivate a life lived in Christ and for others. Another reason that Xers have for looking into religious life is our craving for a strong community life. We have grown up in a society that has become increasingly isolated and individual-ized as a result of the growing affluence and the expanding tech-nologies. We live in an environment in which we can be entertained for hours by television, movies, and the Internet, pursuits which require no interpersonal contact. One of the most commonly found features of Generation X is its sense of isolation and its yearning for stable companionship and community. Contemporary families have become self-sufficient and isolated. They seldom have a strong sense of community support, which was once prevalent. Xers have to look elsewhere to find or rebuild the support system of faith and community that has been absent in their own families. We Xers are drawn wherever we feel wel-come and find friendship. In a society that is increasingly hostile towards ~he notion of community and continues to promote indi-vidualism, we desire friendships and a sense of connectedness. Religious orders with strong community life and ritualized com-munity practices and prayer are quite attractive to us because this lifestyle cannot be found in the secular world. We have trou-ble finding within our peer group a support community for our faith development. A religious order that has a strong community life focused on supporting one another in faith development, holiness, and service of God is a refreshing change. Review for Religious When I first began discerning several years ago, I lived with a religious community for one week, basically living their lifestyle. The entire day seemed to support what was most important to me--to be aware of God's presence, do his will, and to serve him through prayer and action. For me, and I pi-esume for many other Xers, the community life that religious life offers is an attractive quality, offering companionship and the opportunity for growth in prayer, service, and holiness; but we do not want a community just to comfort us and give us a sense of security. We want to be stretched and challenged to serve God and others with the com-munity life serving as a support that allows us to reach beyond ourselves in the service of God through prayer and works. Another characteristic of Xers is postponement of com-mitment. 2 For a generation that has seen promises broken again and again, commitment is a very serious matter, and so we hes-itate a lot. An average Xer has been close to large numbers of parental divorces and seen countless images of broken com-mitments via television and other electronic media portrayed as acceptable ways of living. Because we have seeri the fiche nature of modern lifestyles, we want something that will endure. We are determined not to make the same mistakes as the pre-ceding generations. Another reason for postponement of commitment with Xers is that we have in front of us a rich array of opportunities that, for the most part, were unavailable to earlier generations. The age for entering marriage, making a career choice, and choosing a religious vocation has gradually risen in a society that offers such a wide variety of possible lifestyles. Previous generations, I am told, saw the commitment to religious life as a noble choice and legitimate path to holiness, one that many-made directly out of high school. Today this choice is seen as countercultural. What is more, we have learned that there are many paths to holiness. When choosing the religious lifestyle, previous generations often found support from their friends and parents. Today, in most instances, this countercultural decision is supported neither by friends nor parents. Just recently I read an article in which a mother of a semi-narian documented the mixed signals she received when she told friends and acquaintances of her son's decision to become a priest. The reactions varied from bewilderment as to why he would want to do such a thing to outright opposition to his decision. Septenlber- October 2000 Eggemeier ¯ Generation X and Religious Life One person asked her if she thought that her son would stay. The mother was upset by this question. She found herself think-ing that, at the wedding of her friend's daughter, she herself would likely not ask her friend if she thought her daughter's mar-riage would last. Another parent told her that they had talked their son out of wanting to become a priest when he had dis-cussed it. Unfortunately, I think these viewpoints are indicative of what many Catholics think of a young man considering reli-gious life or the priesthood. Supporting this anecdotal evidence is a 1997 CARA survey which showed that 3 in 10 youths had considered a vocation, but only 2 in 10 of the parents supported their child's interest) As a consequence of our l~ack of cultural and parental support, we Generation Xers might typically take much longer to realize that this is our true calling. We would definitely benefit from having people close to us encouraging us in our consideration of enter-ing religious life. Another form of support would be vocation groups where several of us interested in religious life meet with one another, socialize, and discuss issues relevant to our dis-cernment. Two conclusions can be drawn from these observations for religious communities trying to attract new vocations. First, since as a generation we receive so little support from our friends and parents when considering religious life, it is very important that religious communities develop friendships with us that nurture growth in faith and commitment to God. Here I want to review some findings of a CARA survey on the role of invitation into the priesthood. New research has shown that the most important factor in young people's choosing a vocation is a personal invi-tation from a religious to join.4 A statement quoted in the arti-cle has the number of invitations gradually going down in recent years. Bishop Paul Loverde explains that "during the sixties the percentage of diocesan priests who actively encouraged boys to enter the seminary dropped from 64 percent to 33 percent and, for religious order priests, from 56 percent to 27 percent, and these figures have not changed over the last three decades." In the CARA survey, only 18 percent of youths active in their parish life had been personally invited to consider the priest-hood. Clearly, an integral component of attracting Xers to reli-gious life has substantially decreased. This does not mean that religious should haphazardly invite every young person they run Review for Religious into, but, if you invite us and we show interest, keep in contact and support us. An invitation is in itself not enough. Also, I sug-gest that religious make it clear that they are not just trying to recruit us into religious life, but rather want to help us discern what God truly wants of us, whether it be religious or married or single life. Invitation and support may help many of us to make a coun-tercultural decision more easily. The key here is friendship. As a young man interested in religion, I have often been approached by religious trying to recruit me into becoming a priest. It is discouraging to think that their interest may not be in me as a person, but instead in me as a possible vocation. This is not to say that religious should not actively recruit individuals. Many, like myself, would not consider reli-gious life if it were not for an invi-tation from a religious. There is, however, a distinct difference between inviting and supporting on the one hand and just outright recruiting on the other. A true rapport, indeed a real friendship, with one religious is more valu-able in discernment than one hundred religious asking me if I am interested in their order. A case in point: a friend of mine was recruited by a priest who had met him on retreat. They met for lunch several times after the retreat. During one meeting the priest asked him if he was going to join his particular order. Mind you, my friend had never mentioned that he was even interested in this order. When my fried said that he was not interested at this time in his life, the priest became indignant and lectured him on doing God's will rather than his own. After that meeting, the priest never con-tacted him again. Needless to say, this is not a good approach. The priest saw my friend as a number, a possible recruit, and that is all. Worse yet, he tried to manipulate my friend through pressure and guilt. My friend sensed this pressure from the begin-ning. When the priest's intentions became apparent, he was not surprised; but he was certainly disappointed. Second, as I have already said, I belimie that joining religious " life has become a radical countercultural decision. I have sensed Invitation and support may help many of us to make a counterculturaI decision more easily. Septentber-October 2000 Eggemeier * Generation X and Reli~ous Life this in my own discernment. Countless times old friends and acquaintances have asked me in a negative tone, "Are you becom-ing a priest?" or said, "Why would you become a priest--you could get married!" Religious life has become manifestly coun-tercultural. Choosing religious life has become a radical choice, and so, to attract new vocations, religious need to present them-selves as people who have benefited immensely from their voca-tion and have found peace, mission, love, and a passion for the gospel and for God through their decision. Since this is a countercultural decision, religious orders should accentuate the things they might offer us that we cannot easily acquire as laypersons. I often hear from people discerning a religious vocation that they do not see what it gives them that married life does not: "I could do the same things and have the same type of life consecrated to God as a married person." If it is true that married people can live like religious, why should anyone enter religious life? In light of this, I think orders should bring out the qualities that differentiate them from the married life. In my opinion, some qualities that religious life offers that directly oppose our current cultural trends of greed, power, and promiscuity are the vows of poverty, obedience, and chastity. We are looking for and attracted to these countercultural answers to the problems of modern society, in which there seems to be so lit-tle deep hfippiness. We see the emptiness of promiscuity and hoarding money and want to take a radical stance against these things and devote our lives to something else. Another difference between a religious commitment and that of married life is the uniqueness of the call to live a radical lifestyle consecrated to God alone. I do not know how to artic-ulate this, and I hesitate to say it. But I see something special and profound in an individual taking the stance that God is so central to his or her life that he or she is willing to sacrifice mar-riage in order to live for God in this unique manner. I think that married life and religious life are unique calls with different strengths and weaknesses. I feel that often religious have not stressed the uniqueness of their call because doing so might seem to lessen the call to marriage. Both are calls from God to live a holy life. Yet there is something very striking about religious life--few people planning to get married are ever asked why they would want to get married! In sum, Xers are not going to make Review for Religious a radical countercultural decision unless they see a radical lifestyle being lived out, one that has benefits that married life does not. Finally, for Xers the experiential is essential. In general, we do not believe in something unless we can experience it. Often the Catholic Church can be seen as suppressing the experiential side in favor of the cerebral, and for Xers this is neither satisfying nor believable. To attract Xers, religious orders should present a spirituality that is visible and palpable in everyday life. Religious orders might benefit from an emphasis on daily communal wor-ship and a radical commitment to expressing the experiential side of their practices to Xers. In doing this, religious orders can show Xers that Catholic worship and spirituality are vibrantly lived. Extended community-living experiences for Xers can also be a benefit, because these allow Xers to get a sense of the commu-nities' spiritual practice. Again, l do not presume to speak for my whole generation. I hope, however, that I have described some salient characteris-tics of my generation. We are looking for transcendent mean-ing, community, solid commitments, stability, experience, and service--all of which I feel religious life has to offer. The best way, of course, to attract new vocations has always been and always will be contact with religious who have found joy, community, commitment, and God in their religious life. This, coupled with religious actively encouraging young people to con-sider the religious lifestyle, could have a profound effect on a generation that is starved for things that religious life has and wishes to share. Notes ' Albert Dilanni SM, "Religious Vocations: New Signs of the Times," Review for Religious 52, no. 5 (September-October 1993): 745-763. 2 j. Weber, "Searching for a Vocation X-Style," Horizon: Journal of the National Religious Vocati6n Conference 22 (1997): 9-14. 3 See Ann Carey, "The Harvest Is Great, but the Workers Ain't Invited," Our Sunday Visitor, 19 October 1997. 4 Carey, "Harvest." September-October 2000 J. SHEILA GALLIGAN Bride of Christ and Ecclesial Identity I~her recent article "The Need for Self-Criticism: Affirmative omments," Elizabeth McDonough marshals an unwelcome yet necessary diagnosis of religious life. She asserts that "critical self-appraisal has been neither prevalent, nor popular among American women religious since Vatican II." Such forthright com-ments compel our attention. Made uncomfortable by critical assess-ments of the prevailing paths of renewal, contemporary women religious, she suggests, manage somehow to forget or deny the reports. Indeed, they demonstrate a bewildering, obstinate accom-modation to the rhythms of the prevailing culture. The carefully crafted analysis is pointed. It provides, in a certain sense, a pow-erful Augustinian arraignment of a currently pervasive manifesta-tion of pride: a deliberate choice to avoid and deny reality. She reminds the reader that critical evaluation (albeit accurate!) has been met with "studied unconcern or strident rejection., dis-dain., open derision." 1 The descriptives point out our penchant for self-deception. It is disconcerting to note, as McDonough does, that, while the need for public and prophetic witness is often enthusiastically acknowledged, a specific, distinctive religious witness has lessened considerably. An extensive rhetoric has emerged, but jargon has a way of irritating, and convoluted sociological or psychological expositions often obscure the theological or spiritual sense. Ironies J. Sheila Galligan IHM last wrote for us in November-December 1994. Her address remains Immaculata College; Immaculata, Pennsylvania 19345. Review for Religious are noticeable. There is lack of clarity about identity and mission; there are negative results from an exaggerated egalitarianism; reli-gious in their ministries have a general invisibility; and there is a dearth of new members. These things can affect us, excite us, and cause us to enter into serious dialogue about envisioning the future. But where, McDonough thoughtfully inquires, are the specific decisions and actions that will initiate and support a "corrective change of course" ? 2 I believe that a possible and necessary first step in critical reflection and corrective decision making depends upon the rather neglected perspective of ecclesial identity. Corrective effort must take place on two levels: the level of theological insight and the level of "heartsight"; that is, insight must become embodied in effective symbol. This article suggests that we seek a renewed understanding of the church as the bride of Christ and explore a renewed use of spousal imagery in the service of a "corrective change of course." I will offer a rationale in support of a readily identifiable religious habit, specifically distinguished by a veil, as a form of public, prophetic witness and a "sign of consecration, poverty, and mem-bership in a particular religious family" (vc §25).3 Since the spe-cific issue of the religious habit is intimately connected with bridal consecration, I will also discuss the significance of clothing in gen-eral and ecclesial directives specifically. I suggest that a religious woman's key ecclesial identity is that of bride of Christ and that the key sign of this is the veil. The church! How does one evoke the meaning of its mystery, the meaning of something so elusive and paradoxical and yet so beautiful and evocative? Acknowledging that an image supports and illustrates some aspect of truth, the church describes itself in metaphor. The Second Vatican Council drew upon the rich trea-sury of images in Sacred Scripture. According to Lumen gentium, the church is a sheepfold, a tract of land, a choice vineyard. The church belongs to Christ as people, body, and bride (LG §6). Vatican II, with its interpersonal understanding of the church as the people of God, signaled a turning point in its history, casting a warm light on the image of the church as bride (see LG §9). Biblical Foundations From the biblical perspective, bridal and marriage imagery is September-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ incredibly rich, yet in recent decades this perspective has been prac-tically lost.4 Beginning as a whisper in the history of Israel, this image rises later in prophetic cries, to be echoed eventually in the Gospels and in apostolic teaching. This image of Christ as bride-groom of the church was prepared for by the prophets, especially Hosea and Isaiah, and announced by John the Baptist (see Jn 3:29). Jesus referred to himself as the "bridegroom" (Mk 2:19). The Catechism of the Catholic Church reinforces the theme and reminds us that the Scriptures speak of the whole church, and of each of the faithful members of his body, as a bride "betrothed" to Christ (§796). Significantly, the last image of the church in the Bible is bridal. The Apocalypse is replete with marriage symbolism: "The marriage of the Lamb has come" (19:7; see Ep 5:25-27). The new Jerusalem is "a bride adorned for her husband" (Rv 21:2-3), a city whose meaning is revealed in bridal language: "the bride, the wife of the Lamb" (21:9-22:5). The final use of bridal imagery is in Revelation 22:17: "The Spirit and the Bride say, 'Come.'" The wife, on the day of her wedding, is recognized by her bridal gown. In that attire she is the bride. The gown is the "righ-teous deeds or works." All these texts mirror the church's rela-tionship to .Jesus. The language is about reciprocal love, love for him who is "the first love" (Rv 2:4). The Vision of John Paul II John Paul II understands the church in such personalist terms. He consistently uses the distinctive language of relationship, trini-tarian communion, covenant fidelity. The church is a mysterious living reality that becomes fruitful by its bridal relationship to Christ, who loved the church and gave himself up to mak~ her holy. Being overwhelmed by and responding to love--that is at the heart of the mystery. It is a description of a people called to identify passionately, deeply, with the mission of Jesus. While often ignored in current scholarship, the image of the church as bride of Christ is clearly declared in Scripture and is reaffirmed by the magisterium through the ages. Because it gets to the heart of the church's nature, this image can help (beyond any nostalgia or romanticism) in our discussion of the ecclesial identity of conse-crated women religious. Vatican II provided consecrated life with a splendid theologi-cal framework for understanding its place in the church (LG ~6).5 Review for Religious Recent ecclesial documents also offer a theological vision of the consecrated life within the mystery of the church. The symbolic and transformative role of the consecrated religious is at the heart of the church. The 1994 synod of bishops identified the common reality unifying consecrated persons: "the call to total self-giving to God; love for Christ the teacher, Lord, and bridegroom of the church, who is intimately followed and served above everything; and the decision to live according to the Spirit.''6 Even a superficial reading of Vita consecrata reveals John Paul'S appreciation of the gift of consecrated life as a special manifestation of the "striving of the whole church as bride toward union with her one Spouse" (VC §3). But, more than simply reflecting on the revelatory dimensions of the image in terms of the whole church, the pope provides a marvelous insight. He speaks of conse-crated persons expressing "their spiritual fruitfulness by becoming receptive to the word, in order to contribute to the growth of a new humanity" (vc §34). This perspective undoubtedly flows from his deep conviction that the world desperately needs to reappropri-ate the reality of spousal communion. The focus is sharpened by these words: "Tl~e church can in no way renounce the conse-crated life, for it eloquently expresses her inmost nature as 'bride'" (vc §105). This is not a matter merely of pious sentiment or lit-erary style, but of theology. The point is central for religious because it is a question of identity. References to this theme pervade this papal exhortation. John Paul says (vC §19), "The consecrated life becomes a particularly profo~and expression of the church as the bride who, prompted by the Spirit to imitate her spouse, stands before him 'in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish'" (Ep 5:27). This finds a special emphasis in an extended section titled "The Living Image of the Church as Bride." The pope writes: "In the consecrated life particular impor-tance attaches to the spousal meaning, which recalls the church's The image of the church as bride of Christ is clearly declared in Scripture and is reaffirmed by the magisterium through the ages. September-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ duty to be completely and exclusively devoted to her Spouse, from whom she receives every good thing. This spousal dimension, which is part of all consecrated life, has a particular meaning for women, who find therein their feminine identity and, as it were, discover the special genius of their relationship with the Lord" (//C §34).7 Eloquence of the Liturgy The liturgical "Rite of Religious Profession for Women," a public prayer, incorporates spousal language,s Candidates to be professed respond to the specific question "My dear sisters (daugh-ters), what do you ask of God and of his holy church?" by saying, "We ask for perseverance in following Christ our bridegroom in this religious community all the days of our lives" (§59). Presentation of the veil is accompanied by the following exhorta-tion: "Receive this veil, which proclaims that you belong entirely to Christ the Lord and are dedicated to the service of the church" (§34). The solemn blessing or consecration of the professed is replete with references to the church as bride: "Father in heaven, ¯. you make the human family your bride . When your bride, deceived by the evil one, broke faith with you, . . . the world's Redeemer . . . formed the church into his bride, loving it with love so great that he gave himself up for it" (§72). This richly sug-gestive theme is emphasized and expanded in a beautiful section: "Father, in your loving wisdom you have singled out many of your daughters to be disciples espoused to Christ and to receive the honor of his love. Holy church shines with their rich variety, a bride adorned with jewels . Strengthened by the vows of their consecration, may they be always one with you in loving fidelity to Christ, their only bridegroom" (§72). After the blessing the newly professed come to the celebrant, who gives the ring to each: "Receive this ring, for you are betrothed to the eternal king; keep faith with your bridegroom so that you may come to the wedding feast of eternal joy" (§73). Indeed, St. Mnbrose, writing in the 4th century, crystallizes the idea in five words: Virgo eft quae Deo cubit (a virgin is a woman who has married God). The rite and all its parts are instantly, theologically expressive of the mystery and event being celebrated. What the church understands about reli-gious consecration--its unique public, ecclesial, nuptial, eschato-logical identity and character--is precisely what the rite of Review for Religious profession says and celebrates. Although persons participate in the rite only once, it continues to define and guide them all their life. The mystical, ascetical, and apostolic dimensions somehow coalesce in the dynamic of this profoundly relational image of "disciples espoused to Christ. their only bridegroom" (§72). A Call That Began with Baptism Two presuppositions provide a framework for further dis-cussion. First, inserting the theology of consecrated life into the sacramental dimensions of the church, Vatican I! highlights its relationship with baptismal consecration and its demands.9 Some Christians are invited to deepen that consecration, to manifest that baptismal light with a particular intensity. In the response to the call of consecrated life, this discipleship becomes a public profession to live the gospel, a prophet-ically public witness, an all-encom-passing commitment. Attempts to accommodate, to make religious more like lay people, are detrimental to the church. When the distinctiveness of this vocation becomes blurred, role clarity suffers. Second, the radical nature and meaning of religious life needs to be proclaimed and clarified, not only in descriptive ecclesial documents such as Perfectae caritatis and Vita consecrata, but also in the personal conviction of those committed to it and in the shining witness of their day-to-day lives. Living in community and practicing the vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience challenge the assumptions of the culture. The human goods of marriage, possessions, and self-determination are put into a fresh perspective. VCithout an appreciation for the mystery--a love for the way in which religious consecration takes hold of the very depths of one's being--the fruitfulness of the vocation will be compromised. The radical nature of religious life is threatened by a growing secular-ization, a cultural assimilation. By consecration women religious are established in a new relationship to Jesus Christ, a specifically nuptial one. The veil publicly proclaims the existence of this nup-tial bond, the external sign of an internal reality The radical nature of religious life is threatened by a growing secularization, a cultural assimilation. September-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ Norms of the Church Commenting on canon 669, the one canon in the 1983 Code that directly concerns the religious habit, McDonough carefully delineates its spiritual and ascetical functions: "The habit is con-sistently understood to be indicative of a way of life with both transcendent and immanent consequences. Its purpose is to point ~o the value of something beyond this material world while it simultaneously communicates something of import about the very real circumstance of this material world."9 It heralds a commit-ment to witness to the permanent things in a culture numbed by materialism, sensualism, and contempt for the sac~ed. Many religious communities, with goodwill and intent, do indeed follow the canon's directive and wear a form of habit, but the current practice often omits the veil or makes it optional. Many women religious wear various kinds of secular clothing, from skirts and blouses and hand-me-downs to highly fashionable suits and dresses, complete with jewelry and other accessories. Several neg-ative consequences result. The great diversity of charisms among communities of religious is now lumped into one bland group of "generic church workers." The distinctive concrete "sign" of con-secration is diminished if not lost. A habit that lacks a veil is a diluted public witness, an ambiguous sign. Without the veil, how do people recognize us as religious? Even more, how do people recognize us as members of a unique group of Franciscans or Dominicans or Sisters of Charity? We become "The Anonymous: The Sisters without a Sign!" The veil is important for giving witness to the ecclesial nature of religious identity, to its "bride of Christ" symbolism. Recall the words of Vita consecrata: Consecrated life "eloquendy expresses" the church's nature as "bride" (see §105). Today public witness is iron-ically diluted precisely when the visual, the highly visible, is needed. The veil communicates a sense of dynamic purpose as well as a sense of unity and esprit de corps. Silent Language That Sparks Imagination Some cultural background about the nature of clothing may help here. Throughout history, clothing has served many purposes. According to the insights of those who specialize in these matters, "clothing serves as a means of communication. To the person who is knowledgeable about a particular culture, clothing is a sort of Review for Religious silent language." t0 Rebecca Cunningham's Magic Garment offers a striking insight. A special garment "helps concentrate the powers of imagination, expression, emotion, and movement into the cre-ation and projection of a character to an audience."tt This asser-tion that "clothing is a sort of silent language" is born of experience. The idea is expressed in the 1994 synod's working paper: "Many ask that women and men religious give a silent proclamation of their consecration through wearing the habit of their institute" (§86). The symbolism of the veil has somehow been embedded: it persistently suggests "bride." It bespeaks, quite specifically, a carefully constructed world of meanings and com-mitments. The veil, connoting exclusive love, intimacy, and unre-served self-gift, has been recognized for centuries as a sign of betrothal to Christ (in imitation of Roman marriage customs). It was an integral part of the liturgical ceremony of consecration as early as the 4th century,t2 In fact, for centuries there were no rit-ual words of profession; one "took the habit" or "put on the veil." t3 The concept, the "habit of being," of women religious as "bride of Christ" is manifested in two ways: the interior geogra-phy of the heart shaped by the practice of the evangelical coun-sels and the public symbol of the veil proclaiming spousal union with Christ. Vita consecrata says: "Their lifestyle too must clearly show the ideal which they profess, and thus present itself as a living sign of God and as an eloquent, albeit often silent, procla-mation of the gospel" (vC §25). Perhaps this is what many of the faithful are struggling to articulate when they see a religious with a veil and say: "I'm so glad to see a religious in a habit. Thank you" or "There is a real sister." Here, I believe, the practical and pastoral import of the veil comes to the fore. People are not mak-ing a judgment about the moral state or holiness of the religious, but rather recognizing her ecclesial identity and role, affirming the public witness of her vocation. Just what, precisely, prompts such remarks? When do these comments occur? At the sight of a simply dressed woman wearing a little cross or a medal or some kind of pin? No. It is precisely the veil which evokes the response. Indeed, it is through this visible symbol that identity is affirmed and meaning maintained. Recall, too, that in Jesus' parable of the Good Samaritan (Lk 10:25-37) the man who needs care represents "everyman" precisely because he lacks the two human means of specific identification. He is unconscious and so cannot speak. He is stripped of the clothing Septewtber-October 2000 Galligan * Bride of Christ that communicates something about identity. Have contemporary religious in some way become speechless and stripped? A Culture in Need of a Visible Sign Vita consecrata is direct and straightforward: "The church must always seek to make her presence visible in everyday life, espe-cially in contemporary culture, which is often very secularized and yet sensitive to the language of signs. In this regard the church has a right to expect a significant contribution from consecrated persons, called as they are in every situation to bear clear witness that they belong to Christ" (VC §25). Distinctive attire is a way to respond to the church's challenge. The veil serves as a gracious irritant, an explicitly prophetic sign. Although Western moder-nity is inhospitable to the transcendent, the full habit visibly and powerfully conveys an eschatological message "to the people of God here and now, even--or perhaps especially--to many who might otherwise have neither a ready understanding of nor an easy access to the spiritual import of eternity." ~ In contemporary sec-ularized culture, where the external signs of sacred realities tend to vanish, people must be able to recognize the consecrated woman religious, this bride of Christ representing the church. Attire is an unequivocal sign of dedication and identity, a "way that their con-secration is recognizable" (vC §25). It assumes a public represen-tational function.Is Whose She Is The primary meaning of the word habitus is a condition, a state, a pattern of behavior, a quality of nature or character. The nature of the consecrated religious is essentially bridal. In keeping with her ecclesial and personal identity, the bride of Christ provides visible witness most specifically and completely by wearing a veil. This external practice announces and reaffirms her identity, not only who she is, but Whose she is and what she aspires to be. It acknowledges a passionate love, ever deepening into conscious communion, which gradually becomes the ruling "habit of life." Consecrated religious, in both their personal and their corporate lives, are meant to be identifiable. In a society increasingly needing an appreciation of the tran-scendent, in our secularized post-Christian culture, consecrated Review for Religious religious are called to speak and act in evangelical, bold, and imag-inative ways. Where do we stand? Will we manifest a dash of dar-ing, a truly radical "habit of being," through the practice of the vows and through the external sign of religious consecration? Cogent questions perennially confront those on the road of reli-gious consecrktion. These are such cogent questions. In the conclusion to Vita consecrata, John Paul does not flinch from proclaiming: "You have not only a glorious history to remem-ber and to recount, but also a great history still to be accomplished!" (vc § 110). In short, can a dedicated corps of consecrated religious women rise out of the current mass of "generic" church workers, out of the paralysis of an ambiguous identity, to provide joyful, courageous witness to the Bridegroom and to his bride, the church? Will the "habit of our being" affirm a full and faithful witness? For, indeed, this "corrective measure"--an internal un.derstanding of our personal identity as bride of Christ and its outward sign, the veil--will clearly reveal that we are caught up in a love affair, passionately proclaiming our love for God and his people. Notes ~ Elizabeth McDonough OP, "The Need for Self-Criticism," Review for Religious 58, no. 3 (May-June 1999): 251 and 256. See also David J. Nygren CM and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ, "Affiliative Decline and Role Clarity," in their Future of Religious Orders in the United States (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1993), pp. 248-249. Or see their "Future of Religious Orders in the United States," Origins 22, no. 15 (24 September 1992): 257-272; available also in Review for Religious 52, no. I (January- February 1993): 6-55. 2 McDonough, "Need," p. 259. 3John Paul II, apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata, 1996. Henceforth this will be referred to in the text as 4 Further insights and expanded development of this may be found in Geoffrey Preston OP, Faces of the Church (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1997). Chapter 8 explores the "Bride of Christ." Raymond Orlund Jr.'s book Whoredom: God's Unfaithful Wife in Biblical Theology (Eerdmans, 1996) explores the theme of spiritual adultery, delving into scripture pas-sages that describe human violations of God's covenant with Israel in marital and sexual terms. See also Gilberte Baril, The Feminine Face of the People of God: Biblical Symbols of the Church as Bride and Mother (Slough, U.K.: St. Paul, 1991; also Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1992). 5 "This constitutes a special consecration, which is deeply rooted in their baptismal consecration and is a fuller expression of it" (Perfectae caritatis, §5). See Lumen gentium, §4, and all of chap. 5, "The Call of the L49 i Septentber-October 2000 Galligan ¯ Bride of Christ Whole Church to Holiness." 6 Vatican Synod Secretariat, "The Consecrated Life and Its Role in the Church and in the World: Working Paper for October 1994 World Synod of Bishops," Origins 24, no. 7 (30 June 1994): 97-138. Christ is described as "bridegroom" in several other passages: §18, §48, §111. 7 John Paul II's new orientation is perhaps best summed up in the priority which the Catechism of the Catholic Church (§773) accords the Marian dimension over the Petrine dimension in the church, in the order of holiness. Keenly conscious of the unique role of the Blessed Virgin Mary in the history of redemption, the pope presents a link with the New Testament passage that portrays Mary with the Apostles (Ac 1:13-14). "We can see here a vivid image of the church as bride, fully attentive to her bridegroom and ready to accept his gift . In Mary the aspect of spousal receptivity is particularly clear; it is under this aspect that the church, through her perfect virginal life, brings divine life to fruition within herself" (vc §34). Consecrated women religious are "called in a very special way to be signs of God's tender love toward the human race and to be special witnesses to the mystery of the church, virgin, bride, and mother" (VC §57). The image is biblically, theologically, and pastorally appropriate. 8 International Commission on English in the Liturgy, "Rite of Religious Profession during Mass," in The Rites of the Catholic Church, Vol. 2, approved by NCCB and confirmed by the Apostolic See (Collegeville: A Pueblo Book, Liturgical Press, 1991), pp. 247-285. The sectitn numbers given in parentheses in this paragraph refer to this rite on these pages. 9 Elizabeth McDonough OP, "Habit and Habitus: Current Legislation," Review for Religious 56, no. 6 (November-December 1997): 652. ,0 Phyllis G. Tortora and Keith Eubank, Survey of Historic Costumes (New York: Fairchild Publications, 1994), p. 3. n Rebecca Cunningham, The Magic Garment: Principles of Costume Design (New York: Longman, 1989), p. 1. ~2 McDonough, "Habit," p. 654. ~3 According to the Rule of St. Benedict, profession was to be made both orally and in writing, but not necessarily for validity. Benedict knew nothing of the juridical concept of such "validity." It is worthwhile to note the role of the habit in the tradition. Since the Council of Trent, reli-gious profession in order to be valid must be expressed orally. At the time of Gratian, however, profession made tacitly was taken to be true profession. Some clear fact or deed was taken to be religious profession, usually to assume the monastic habit. Gratian says nothing of the neces-sity of profession. Instead he speaks of entry into religion in a precise con-crete way. He uses the terms "monasticum habitum sume~e" (C17, q2, c3) and "habitum religionis sumere" (C20, ql, cl). The veil (cowl for men) was an integral part of the liturgical ceremony of consecration as early as Review for Religious the 4th century. In fact, for centuries there were no ritual "words," no vows formally articulated. Historically, ecclesial recognition, the sign of betrothal to Christ, was usually expressed by someone's "taking the veil." 14 This notion is emerging in new literature that speaks of religious garb. See Harry J. Byrne, "Ecclesiastical Garb," America 180, no. 21 (19-26 June 1999): 22. The author notes that the U.S. bishops in their November 1998 meeting decreed that "a black suit and the Roman col-lar are the appropriate attire for priests, especially in the exercise of their ministry." The Directory for the Life and Ministry of Priests (1994) is straight-forward: "In a secularized and materialistic society, where the external signs of sacred and supernatural realities tend to disappear, it is partic-ularly important that the community be able to recognize the priest, man of God and dispenser of his mysteries, by his attire., which is an unequivocal sign of his dedication and his identity as a public minister" (§66). The directory also states that, "outside of entirely exceptional cases, a cleric's failure to use this proper ecclesiastical attire could man-ifest a weak sense of his identity as one consecrated to God." 15 The French theologian Louis Mari Chauvet (Symbol and Sacrament, Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1995) says that symbol as a language of recognition is "the foundation of the identity of the group and the indi-vidual" (p. 5) and that symbol "becomes the agent for recognition and identification between subjects." Chauvet affirms silent communication too: the act of symbolization carries out the "essential vocation of lan-guage" (p. 130). The veil is both self-referential and proclamatory. Thus the consecrated woman religious should be identifiable primarily through personal holiness, but also by a manner of dressing that makes visible to all the faithful, indeed to all people, her specific role in the church. The attire serves as a mediating reality in the construction of authentic iden-tity. It demands personal and communal "habits of being" so that its meaning does not erode and so lose its compelling force. Peter and the Servant Girl The servant girl asked of him, "Aren't you he who was with Jesus?" Curiously she looked in his eyes, did not accuse, for who has not felt fear? And who was she? No true believer, but one who serves, and serving knows not all our masters are deserving. She looked again at him who was afraid and left to seek the one whom all betrayed. June A. Kramer September-October 2000 a way of living MARIE BEHA Work in Such a Way "Work in such a way as not to extinguish the spirit of prayer and holy devotion to which everything else should be subservient." That is what St. Francis of Assisi and St. Clare wrote in their respective Rules for the Friars and the Poor Sisters (RC1 7,2). Nice, I thought, but what does it mean? More important, how do I do it? For some reason I found those words repeating themselves over and over again in my heart as I went about my work that day and the next and the next. I always "suspect" the action of the Spirit when some-thing like this happens, so I began to hold this challenge against the reality of my everyday experience. After all, I had lots of experience working, doing all kinds of things. In fact, activity had been the focus of most of my efforts to hasten the coming of God's king-dom. I knew something of its risks, as well as its chal-lenges and the immediacy of its motivation. But somehow this was different. It soon became clear, that I needed to emphasize four words: "working in such a way"; the focus was less on what I did and more on how I did it. That was lesson number one. Kinds of work, hours devoted to it, or even levels of accomplishment--con-cerns which had dominated most of my previous reflec- Marie Beha osc writes once again from the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 North Pleasantburg Drive; Greenville, South Carolina 29609. Review for Religious tions--were too task oriented. Whatever Francis and Clare were talking about, it was something more. I passed on to "the spirit of prayer." I began reflecting on familiar experiences of bringing work into prayer, of how my work had often provided the raw material for some of my most urgent prayers of petition. I .easily recalled times when I had spent whole periods of formal prayer begging for the needs of those with whom I worked. On other occasions most of my prayer was preoccupied with fervent requests for personal divine assis-tance. When I felt especially unable to accomplish what I really needed to do, then I got down to serious praying! "God, come to my assistance!" But it was also true that sometimes, in fact way too often, work spilled over into my prayer time, threatening the possibility of any prayer at all. Sometimes a task that I had decided to com-plete chiseled away at my time for prayer; I began late or at least without allowing myself a moment to just be and transition into a more reflective stance. I was still back "there" at whatever I had been doing, even when my body had arrived "here." At other times I deliberately shortened my time for personal prayer because "there is so much to do." Granted that there were circumstances when shortened prayer time had to be the only loving responses to the urgent need of others, but honesty compelled me to admit that this was not usually the case. Then it dawned on me that shortened prayer time was one of the ways my spirit of prayer was being extinguished by work. I began giving myself permission to let my periods of formal prayer be as much a "full-time" occupation as any other of my concerns. It was a start, but by no means an easy discipline. I soon discovered how proficient I had become in rationalizing the urgency of my work load. Too often I was more driven by self-imposed standards than by charity or the reality of the situation. It was my need to accomplish something that compelled me tofin-ish whatever I had set out to do. Achievement motivated me to surpass last week's goals; that was why I worked overtime. Working provided the self-satisfaction of knowing I had done something, maybe even done it well. Others were grateful. At least I was pleased with myself. To my embarrassment I discovered how often I named this a "good day" because"I got so much done." Or, conversely, I complained in frustration, "I didn't get a single thing done today." I could not even recall the last time I had fallen September-October 2000 Beba ¯ Work in Such a Wa~ asleep telling myself how happy I was that I had been able to pray well or work prayerfully that day. With this realization came others. (The Spirit was beginning to work overtime.) Maintaining a spirit of prayer even during times of formal prayer was more than just hard work. Exposing myself to the Spirit of Truth was risky; disciplining and quieting my busy mind was harder still. I would rather have done almost anything else. Too often I did; such escapism surely ran counter to a spirit of prayer. But there was still more. I returned to the original challenge of "working in such a way as not to extinguish . " Francis and Clare seemed to focus less on what happened at times of prayer and more on manner of working. That was realistic. After all, most of us spend more time working or doing other things than praying. How could I work more prayerfully? I tried to recall some things I had been taught many years before about "being recol-lected." After searching around in my mental attic, I remembered something about saying ejaculations while working and the incred-ible example of a certain Jesuit priest who said literally thousands of ejaculations even while ministering in the trenches during World War I. In a period of early fervor, I had tried the practice myself, but had never gotten the hang of it at all. In fact, I felt myself breaking out into a rash at the very thought; such split-level exis-tence was not for me! And I doubted very much that it was what Clare or Francis was suggesting. Once more I returned to my original question: What does it mean to work in the spirit of prayer? I continued to keep my focus not on my prayer but on my work, and the beginnings of an answer slowly emerged: I worked prayerfully when I worked lovingly. Of course. The "spirit of prayer" had to be the work of the Holy Spirit, "the Spirit praying in us with unutterable groaning," espe-cially "when we do not know how to pray as we ought" (Rm 8:26). And that Holy Spirit was God's love "dwelling within" (Rm 8:9). What extinguished my prayer was also what extinguished my love. Examined experience proved the truth of these .reflections. When I failed to "love" my work, rushed through it, did it care-lessly, pushed it aside as soon as I decently could, both work and the spirit of prayer suffered. When my work was less gift given to others and more self-serving gratification, any possibility of prayer-ful work was extinguished. When the bitterness of critical think-ing, harsh judgments, impatient murmuring, ran counter to Review for Religious whatever I was doing, I was neither loving nor praying. And in most instances I was so caught up in my own limited concerns that I was not even working very effectively. But, when I worked lovingly, a quiet reverence, a peaceful pres-ence, transformed any and all of my labors. I was careful without being so care-filled that anxiety replaced trust. I could give myself to whatever most needed doing if I kept my focus in the present and not turned toward the need to accomplish as much as possible. Even when the list of necessary tasks got longer and longer, I found that I was more at peace if I set pri-orities rather than driving myself to get it all done now. My charity was more needed than the accom-plishment of what I had predetermined to do. Being focused on whatever I was doing began to make a critical difference. I became more aware of just how I was going about my labor, rather than concentrating solely on the task itself. As awareness opened up space within, I found myself faced with choices. Somewhere between being lazy and being a . workaholic lay the balance of saving grace. Self-gift rather than self-satisfaction seemed to hold one key. When my focus was more on God at work in whatever needed doing, rather than on what I wanted to do, I could relax. I was

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

Issue 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 26.1 of the Review for Religious, 1967. ; impl~m~ntation of. Vaticaffllf~ '~- Monastic Pr~opbsal for Canon Law~, ~ by Monasticum Consilium Iuris Canonici 19 " Interview With Abbot Butldr ~' ~ e~tri~ ~fi~1~ '~ ~6 '. _POverty ~n Rehg~ous Life 4, by Ladiilqk. M. ~0~, S.J. . 60 Sanctificati~p t~oug~he Apostolate ~ ' b~ C~rles ~. Schleck, O,S.C. 83" Religious Life and the Christian Life 7' , by Sist~ Elaine Marie,~ S.'L.~ 1~37 ;? Complementarity by ~vid B. Burrell, C.S.C. ~ 149, Bibliography f6r R~enewal " by: Damien ~Isabell, O.F.M., . and Brot~r . Joach(m, O.F.M.~ 16~ Survey of Roman Documents 174 Views, News, PreVie"ws 180 Questions and Answers 183 Book Reviews 191 VOLUM~ 26 NUMBER 1 January 1967 Volume 26 1967 EDITORIAL OFFICE St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas 66536 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimore, Maryland 21202 ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett' A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.$. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. William J. Weiler, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answers Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. St. Joseph's Church 321 Willings Alley Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19106 Book Reviews William J. Mountain, S.J. Bellarmine School of Theology of Loyola University 230 South Lincoln Way North Aurora, Illinois 60542 Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem. her on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI. GIOUS is indexed in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL IN-DEX and in BOOK REVIEW INDEX Notice to Subscribers Because of constantly increasing costs, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS finds it necessary to increase the cost of its individual issues as well as of its sub-scriptions. The new rates, effective in' 1967, are the following: (1) Individual issues of the REWEW now cost one dollar; this price applies not only to all issues beginning with 1967 but also to all previously published issues. (2) Subscriptions in the United States, Canada, and Mexico now cost $5.00 per year; $9.00 for two years. (3) Subscriptions to other countries now cost ,$5.50 per year; $10.00 for two years. (4) All the above prices are in terms of U.S.A. dollars; accordingly all payments must be made in U.S.A. funds. These prices affect all individual issues sold on or after January 1, 1967. The new subscription prices are applicable to all subscriptions--new and renewed--beginning with the January, 1967, issue of the REVIEW. JOSEPH F. GALLEN, S.J. Implementation of Vatican II on Religious Life The postconciliar motu proprio of August 6, effective October 11, 1966, obliges all Latin and Oriental religious institutes to put into effect the pertinent norms of Vati-can Council II. The institutes are to promote primarily a newness of spirit and through this effect a renewal and adaptation of life and discipline. Renewal is not accom-plished once for all time. It is a continuous process that is to be maintained by the fervor of the members and the care of chapters and superiors. The documents of the Council that are principally to be studied are the Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life and Chapters V and VI of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, but all other conciliar documents should also be considered. The principal part in renewal and adaptation apper-tains to the religious institutes themselves, especially through their general chapters. The chapter is not merely to legislate but should also further the spiritual and apostolic activity of the institute. To promote renewal and adaptation, a special general chapter, ordinary or extraordinary, is to be assembled within two or at the most three years in all institutes, whether pontifical or diocesan. This special chapter may be divided into two distinct periods of sessions, if the chapter itself so decrees in'a secret vote. The interval between the periods should not generally extend beyond a year. The general chapter has the authority to change cer-tain norms of the constitutions experimentally, provided the purpose, nature, and character of the institute are preserved. Prudent experiments contrary to the common law of the Church, if judged profitable, will be freely permitted by the Holy See. These experiments may be Joseph F. Gal-len, s.J., resides at Saint Joseph's Church; 321 Wil-lings Alley; Phila-delphia, Pennsyl-vania 19106. VOLUME 26, 1967 5 4. 4. 4. Joseph F. Gallen, S.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 extended to the next ordinary general chapter, which also has the power to extend them but not beyond the following ordinary general chapter. The general council possesses the same authority of experimentation accord-ing to the conditions determined by the chapters in the intervals between these chapters. The definitive approba-tion of the constitutions is reserved to the Holy See for pontifical congregations and to the unanimous consent of all the local ordinaries in whose dioceses the congrega-tion has houses, in the case of a diocesan congregation. ,The cooperation of all superiors and members is necessary for the renewal of the religious life in them-selves, to prepare the spirit of the chapters, for accom-plishing the work of the chapters, and for the faithful observance of the norms enacted by the chapters. In preparing the special general chapter, the general council shall make provision for a wide and free consultation of the members and shall suitably collate and arrange the ideas received in this consultation to help and direct the work of the chapter. This can be accomplished through reports of community and provincial chapter discussions, appointment of commissions, sending out questionnaires, and so forth. The constitutions should contain the evangelical and theological principles on the religious life and on its union with the Church, as also the spirit and purposes of the founder and the sound traditions which constitute the spiritual patrimony of an institute. They should also include adequate but not superfluous juridical norms. The constitutions are to be imbued with the true spirit and be a vital rule. They must therefore contain both the spiritual and juridical norms and avoid a text that is merely exhortatory or merely juridical. The general chapters of institutes of simple vows should decree whether the constitutions are to permit or oblige to the renunciation of personal patrimonial property, whether already acquired or to be acquired, and whether the renunciation is to be made before perpetual profession or some years afterward. Superiors of all levels should have sufficient authority and be freed of the necessity of useless and too frequent recourse to higher authorities. Chapters and councils, each in their own way, should manifest the participation and care of all the members for the entire community, which will be verified especially if the members have a truly efficacious part in choosing those who constitute the chapters and councils. The study and meditation of the gospel and of all of Sacred Scripture is to be more intensely fostered in all the members from the noviceship, as also participation by more apt means in the life and mystery of the Church. For a closer participation in the liturgy, it is recom-mended that the entire or part of the Divine Office be substituted for a Little Office. A wider place is to be given to mental prayer instead of a multitude of vocal prayers, but the pious exercises commonly received in the Church are to be maintained. Religious more than the rest of the faithful should be devoted to penance and mortification. Penitential practices of an institute, if necessary, should be suitably adapted. In the present practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, an ordinary general chapter is one that takes place at the expiration of the term of office of the su-perior general, and on his or her death, resignation, or deposition; when convoked for any other reason, the chapter is extraordinary. The term of office of a superior general is ordinarily six years. The general chapter to be assembled within the next three years is special because its purpose is to promote renewal and adaptation. It may coincide with an ordinary general chapter; otherwise, it will be an extraordinary chapter of affairs, but no per-mission of the Holy See or of local ordinaries will be necessary to convoke it. The particular law of a lay religious congregation commonly consists of a Rule, if the congregation follows one, constitutions, directory, custom book, ordinances of the general chapter, regulations of higher superiors, book of common prayers, and a ceremonial. The congregation has had and still possesses the authority to change all of these except the Rule and constitutions. Any change in the Rule, e.g., of St. Augustine or St. Francis of Assisi, still demands the same authorization from the Holy See. Number six of the new norms of August 6 states: This general chapter has the right to change experimentally some norms of the constitutions . Prudent experiments contrary to the common law, if suitable, will be freely per-mitted by the Holy See. The expression, "some norms," is evidently vague. How-ever, the norms explicitly require the permission of the Holy See only for a change contrary to the common law, i.e., canon law. If permission were required for an ex-perimental change in any other type of article or with regard to any individual article, the necessity of such permission should have been stated; otherwise, the re-ligious institutes would be left with a highly obscure and sufficiently impractical power of experimentation, which would be contrary to the explicit purpose of the document. Obviously a congregation may not change any law of God that may be repeated in its constitutions, but it may experimentally change on its own authority any other norms of the constitutions, whether spiritual, ÷ ÷ ÷ Implementation o~ Vatican 11 VOLUME 26, 1967 7 ÷ ÷ ÷ 1oseph F~ Gallen, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 merely disciplinary, or juridical or legal, with the ex-ception of changes that would be contrary to canon law. A list is appended of changes that would or would not be contrary to canon law. The new document also gives permission for one sus-pension and reconvening of the special general chapter. This matter was quite fully treated in the RzviEw FOg P, ZLICIOtJS, 2'1 (1965), 476-7. The doctrine there given was that an institute may have that number of distinct periods of sessions that is required for the proper carry-mg out of its work. The treatment of the question in the. RzwEw concluded as follows: A chapter should ordinarily be completed in the one session or series of sittings, simply because this is the usual practice and understanding. A suspension and reconvening of a chap-ter is permissible for a proportionate reason. This is forbidden neither by canon law nor, at least generally speaking, by the constitutions. It is also at times necessary or very useful for the satisfactory completion of the work of the chapter and there-fore in accord with the very nature of a chapter. Finally, canon law and the practice of .the Holy See in a.pproving, constitu-tions admit the suspension of a chapter in particular cases without any indication whatever thatsuspension is confined to these cases. C. before a paragraph means that the matter is con-trar. y to canon law and thus demands the permission of the Holy See for the experimental change. If there is no G. before the paragraph, the particular matter is not contrary to canon law and may therefore be changed experimentally without the permission of the Holy See in the case of pontifical institutes or that of the local ordinaries in the case of diocesan congregations. C. Change of the name of the institute or of its spe-cial purpose. Addition of new works. C. Changing a Rule, e.g., of St. Augustine or St. Francis. C. Subjection, care, and direction of a congregation of sisters by a~n institute of men. C. Elimination of the class of lay sisters and their transfer to the one class of sisters. Change in the rights and obligations of a class of sis-ters, e.g., of lay sisters. Change in active and passive voice for the election of delegates to the general or provincial chapter. C. To give less suffrages to the professed of temporary vows or to the novices. Giving, changing, or eliminating greater suffrages to those who have died in office or held office. Change or elimination, except in voting in a chapter, of precedence among members of the same institute. C. Elimination of precedence in voting in a chapter. Change in titles or names of sisters, e.g., with regard to title of mother and change from the name of a saint or mystery to the baptismal and family names of the in-dividual. Change in the habit and in the dress of the postulants provided the latter remains different from the habit of the novices. C. Change in the obligation of the professed and novices of wearing the religious habit. To exact or not exact a dowry, to exact it only condi-tionally, i.e., that the superior who admits should de-mand a dowry if and as far as this is possible; to exact it only from choir and not from lay sisters; to leave the determination of the amotmt of the dowry to the general chapter, mother general, mother provincial, or to the superior who admits; to determine when the dowry is to be given to the institute; to admit the candidate without a dowry when a just reason exists for doing so; to estab-lish that the candidate who was dispensed from the dowry or admitted without it must establish a dowry !ater if she receives any substantial gift or bequest. Establishment, change, elimination oL and dispensa-tion from the wardrobe and the sum to be paid for the expenses of the postulancy. Establishment, change, or elimination of the record o~ property that a candidate brings with her as also of witnesses for this record. Establishment, change, or elimination of the civilly valid document signed on admission to the postulancy in which the candidate declares that she will not seek compensation for services given to the institute before or after profession, if she leaves or is dismissed, as also with regard to the renewal of the document at the time of perpetual profession. Establishing or changing higher superiors competent to admit to the postulancy. Establishing, changing, or eliminating a vote of a council required for this admis-sion. C. Changing or eliminating any o~ the invalidating or merely prohibiting impediments to the noviceship established by canon 542, i.e., membership in a non- Catholic sect, and so forth. Change or elimination of any or all of the impediments to the noviceship established by the particular constitu-tions, e.g., the illegitimate who have not been legiti-mated, those over thirty years of age, widows, those who were postulants or novices in another religious institute, converts, and so forth. Establishing or changing the higher superiors com-petent to dispense from the impediments of the particu-÷ ÷ ÷ Implementation Vatican II VOLUME 26, 1967 9~ ]oseph F. Gallen, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 ]ar constitutions as also the vote of a council for such dispensations. . C. Ghange or elimination of the testimonial letters required for a professed religious who passes from one to another institute, and for those who have been in an ec-clesiastical college, postulancy, or noviceship of another institute. G. Ghange or elimination of certificates of baptism and confirmation required for admission to the novice-ship. Ghange or elimination of certificates of character and of good health as also of other testimonials required by the constitutions, e.g., parents' marriage certificate, cel'- tificates of studies and academic degrees, consent of parents or guardians, and so forth. C. To eliminate, shorten to less than six months, or dispense from the postulancy prescribed by canon law. To eliminate, abbreviate, or extend a postulancy or a duration o~ postulancy commanded only by the particu-lar constitutions, e.g., to extend a postulancy of nine months to a year. To give higher superiors the power of dispensing from such a postulancy or duration. Establishing or changing higher superiors competent to dismiss postulants. Establishing, changing, or elimi-nating a vote of a council required for this dismissal. Giving a local superior the right of dismissing a postu-lant, e.g., in an urgent case. Changing the discipline and formation, study, and occupation in external works during the postulancy, and the separation or association of the postulants with the novices and]or the professed. Establishing or changing the frequency and content of the reports to higher superiors on the postulants, novices, and professed of temporary vows. C. Prolongation of the postulancy for a period longer than six months. Establishment, change, or elimination of request to higher superiors ~or admission to the noviceship and the professions. To change the vote for admission to the noviceship from deliberative to consultative or vice versa. To establish or change a prescription that the mother provincial admits to the noviceship with the deliberative or consultative vote of her council but that this must be. supplemented by the confirmation, approval, or consent of the mother general either alone or with the delibera-tive or consultative vote of the general council, or a prescription that the mother provincial with the deliber-ative or consultative vote of her council merely proposes the admission to the noviceship to the mother general, who admits with the deliberative or consultative vote of her council. C. To change the norms on the canonical examina-tion by the local ordinary or his delegate before entrance into the noviceship, first profession, and perpetual pro-fession. C. To change the duration of the eight-day retreat and the norms for general confession before the noviceship. To change the higher superior competent to establish or transfer a novitiate and the vote of the council for these acts. C. To change the prescription that the permission of the Holy See is necessary for the valid establishment or transfer of a novitiate in a pontifical institute or the pro-hibition of establishing more than one novitiate in the same province without a serious reason and a special apostolic indult. To change a prescription that the permission of the local ordinary is necessary for the valid establishment or transfer of a novitiate in a diocesan congregation. To establish, change, or eliminate the prescription that each province must have its own novitiate. C. To change the separation of the novices and pro-fessed and the prohibition of communication between them. C. To change the prescription that superiors are to assign only exemplary professed to the novitiate house. C. To enact the canonical year as valid before the completion of the fifteenth year, or when made for a period less than an entire and continuous year, or made in a house not legitimately designated as a novitiate house. To permit the canonical year of noviceship to be made other than in the first year, e.g., in a noviceship of two years or eighteen months. To change the manner of beginning the noviceship. C. To change the manner of computing the canoni-cal year. C. To change the norms for the interruption of the canonical year, i.e., (1) if a novice is dismissed by the superior and leaves the house; (2) if a novice, without the permission of the superior, leaves the house with the in-tention of not returning; (3) if a novice has remained outside the house for more than thirty days; or the norm for the suspension of the canonical year, i.e., if a novice has been absent from the novitiate house for more than fifteen but not beyond thirty days. To change the manner of computing a noviceship that is longer than a year, e.g., to change the profession day to the second anniversary of the beginning of the novice-ship from the day after this second anniversay. C. To change the norm that absence from the noviti. ate house during the canonical year is to be permitted only for a just and grave reason. Implementation Vatican H VOLUME 26, 1967 ÷ ÷ 4. Joseph F. Gallen, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS C. To change the norm that a noviceship made for one class is not valid for another. C. To change the norms that during the canonical year novices (1) must not be employed in external works of the congregation; (2) nor should they apply them-selves intensively to the study of letters, sciences, or the arts; or that during the second year (3) the novices should not be employed in the external works beyond that per-mitted in the Instruction of the Sacred Congregation of Religious of November 3, 1921. C. To change the norm that the noviceship is not to be prolonged for more than six months. To change the vote of the council that the higher su-perior may need for a prolongation of the noviceship, e.g., from consultative to deliberative or vice versa. To change the higher superior competent for the dis-missal of a novice as also the vote for this dismissal. C. To change the duration of the eight-day retreat before first profession. To change the prescription that each novice is to be given a complete copy of the constitutions from the be-ginning of the noviceship. To establish or change those competent to admit a novice in danger of death to profession. C. To change the vote of the council for first pro-fession from deliberative to consultative or to no vote. C. To abbreviate or eliminate the three full years of temporary vows required before perpetual profession or to establish a period of temporary vows longer than six years. To prolong temporary profession in such a way that the total time in temporary vows is longer than six years. To change the manner of computing temporary profession (August 15, 1966-August 15, 1969). To establish or change the duration of the various temporary professions, e,g., five annual professions, three annual and one of two years, two annual and one of three years, one of two years and one of three, one of three and one of two years. To establish, abbreviate, extend, or abrogate a period of temporary vows longer than three but not longer than six years before perpetual profession. To dispense in whole or in part from a period of tem-porary vows beyond three years. C. To enact or permit that the first temporary pro-fession be made outside the novitiate house. To establish or change the place for renewals and pro-longation of temporary vows and for perpetual profes-sion. To establish or change the superior competent to de-cree a prolongation of temporary profession. C. To permit the anticipation of the renewal of temporary profession by more than a month or to permit the anticipation of perpetual profession. To change the formula and rite of profession. C. To change the prescription that there is to be no interval without vows between temporary professions or between temporary and perpetual profession. C. To change the prescription that the written decla-ration of a profession must be signed by the professed and the one who received the profession. To establish, change, or abrogate a prescription that the written declaration of a profession must be signed by other witnesses. C. To abrogate or change the canonical requisites for the validity of any juridical religious profession of canons 572-3, e.g., the sixteen and twenty-one full years necessary for the validity of temporary and perpetual profession. C. To change the norm that an invalid noviceship in-validates any subsequent religious profession. To establish or change the higher superior competent for admission to profession, the norms on the consent or confirmation of the mother general of an admission by the mother provincial, or on requests to the mother gen-eral by the mother provincial for admission, to enact a deliberative or consultative vote for perpetual profession and for renewal of temporary w)ws; and to establish or change to no vote a deliberative or consultative vote for the prolongation of temporary vows. To establish or change the higher superiors competent for the reception of various professions; to change this superior from the local ordinary to a higher superior of the institute; to delegate others also by the law of the constitutions for reception, e.g., provincial, regional, and local superiors, and their legitimate substitutes. C. To change the canonical norms on the convalida-tion and sanation of an invalid religious profession. C. To change the definition of the religious vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. C. To eliminate or restrict the right of professed of simple vows to retain or acquire property for themselves (c. 101, § l, 2o). , C. To abrogate or change th~ prescription that a pro-fessed of simple vows must ced~ the administration and dispose of the use and nsufruct o! property already owned or acquired. | C. To abrogate or change the prescription that the permission of the Holy See is r ecessary for a change in favor of the congregation of a m~table part of this cession and disposition. C. To abrogate or change the prescription that a + 4. Implementation Vatican 11 VOLUME 26, 1967 13 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Gallen, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 novice in religious congregations, before profession of temporary vows, is to make a civilly valid will concern-ing all the property she actually possesses or may subse-quently acquire. C. To abrogate or change the permission demanded by canon law for a change in this will. C. To permit a peculium, to change or abrogate the norm that the material necessities are at least ordinarily and habitually to be requested from and supplied by the institute, or to eliminate the obligation of avoiding superfluities. To change the formula required for the imposition of a precept in virtue of the vow of obedience, to change the superiors competent to give such a precept, e.g., to give this power or take it away from local superiors. To change the prescribed frequency of confession. C. "To change the canonical norms on the place for the confessions of women. C. To eliminate or change the necessity of special jurisdiction for the confessions of professed religiou,s women and novices. C. To have more than one ordinary confessor for reasons beyond those stated in canon law. C. To change the canonical norms on the special or-dinary confessor, the extraordinary, supplementary, and occasional confessors, the confessor of a seriously sick sister, and the confessor of anyone in danger of death. G. To change the canonical norms on the duration of the term and the reappointment of the ordinary confes-sor. C. To change the prohibition of interference into the internal and external government of the community by ordinary and extraordinary confessors. To change the canonical norms on manifestation of conscience. G. To change the prescriptions concerning daily at-tendance at Mass, or the promotion of frequent and daily Communion, or the power of a superior to forbid a subject to receive Holy Communion in the case of grave scandal or of a serious external fault until she has ap-proached the sacrament of penance. To adopt the Divine Office, e.g., Lauds, Vespers, and Compline, and in the vernacular. To determine the part of the Office that is to be said in common. To legislate on the duration, hour, and place of mental prayer; on vocal prayer, e.g., on the quantity and the specific vocal prayers to be said; on the preparation for mental prayer; the particular and general examen; spiri. tual reading; the number and duration of prescribed visits to the Blessed Sacrament; duration of the annual retreat and duration of other retreats; on tridua; deter- mination of the precise day, d~ making the monthly recollectiox and devotional practices; and t tional renewal of vows and to ~ rite of this renewal. To eliminate, lessen, or chang. the chapter of faults. To chanf mortification and penance impo~ constitutions. C. To change the canonic~ cloister. To extend the prohibition of tered sections also to those of tl the same prohibition. To change the law of compan approved by the Sacred Congr the approval of constitntions, e. to. leave the house without a judgment of the superior, there so." "No sister shall go out with~ superior, who should if possibl trustworthy person as her comF To legislate on silence. To change the norms on th, for correspondence. To change tion of correspondence. To change the norms on or table. To change the suffrages [or tl~ C. To change the canonica ofa professed religious to anoth~ C. To change the canonical the expiration of temporary and secularization, dismissal, professed to secular life, and t] To enact that a canonical d: [essed of perpetual vows from ai To establish or change the d~ the general chapter, e.g., three, sembly. To change the place or dat~ specified in the constitutions. To establish or change the let deferring of the general chapter, To change the date of the ass ter after the death, resignatio: mother general, e.g., three or si To establish or change ex ot general chapter given to [orm~ establish or change a system of ration, and manner of t; on seasonal devotions ) legislate on the devo- :hange the formula and the manner of holding or adapt practices of ed or encouraged in the prescriptions on the entrance into the clois- ~e same sex; to abrogate ion to one of the norms .-'.gation of Religious in ,,., "Sisters are permitted ::ompanion when, in the is a just cause for doing .ut the permission of her '.: send, a sister or some lnion. ' necessity of permission or eliminate the inspec-to eliminate reading at deceased. norms on the transfer .~ institute. norms on departure at .rofession, exclaustration :,rovisional return of a ~ charitable subsidy. smissal frees also a pro- 1 her religious vows. ~te of the convocation of six months before its as-of the general chapter th of an anticipation or e.g., three or six months. ~mbly of a general chap- 1, or deposition of the ¢ months. ficio membership in the .r superiors general. To ~lelegates for the general ÷ + ÷ Irat~lementation ol Vatican 11 VOLUME 26, 1967 ]5 ÷ ÷ ÷ .~oseph F. Gailen, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 or provincial chapter. To give ex officio membership in the general chapter to regional superiors. To establish that the mother general may summon others sisters who are not capitulars to assist in the clerical and similar work of the chapter, also to invite such sisters and externs to present and discuss questions with the chapter. To establish more than two tellers. To establish or change the number of capitulars who must be present for the validity of the acts of a general, provincial, or local chapter, e.g., two-thirds. To establish that a vote may be given by letter or proxy. C. To eliminate the presidency of the local ordinary at the election of the mother general or his right of con-firming this election in diocesan congregations. To enact or change a prescription that all sisters are obliged to accept any office to which they were elected. To enact or change, according to the system, a norm of the following tenor; from the date of the letter of convocation until the completion of the election of delegates, no vocal shall be transferred from one house to another; neither shall local superiors be changed until after the general or provincial chapter. In congregations divided into provinces, to establish or change the delegates to the general chapter from houses immediately subject to the mother general. To establish or change the number of de.legates to the general chapter from each province, e.g., two, three, four, five. To enact such delegates according to the number of sisters in a province. To give the provincial chapter authority to make proposals to the general chapter; to give it also the authority to make enactments for the province, which, however~ are not effective until approved by the mother general with the consent of her council. To eliminate the provincial chapter, i.e., to have the delegates elected merely by mailing in the votes from the houses to the mother provincial. To establish a norm on prudent consultation regard-ing the qualities of those eligible for office. To establish that the ballots are to be burned only after each session. To enact that before the election of the mother gen-eral, each and every capitular shall promise by oath to elect the one who, before God, she judges should be chosen. To forbid postulation in elections. To establish or change a retreat before the general or provincial chapter as also its duration and exposition of the Blessed Sacrament during it. C. To change the canonical mother general, i.e., ten years and forty years of age. To change the duration in off the length of her term; to estalz tion of her immediate reelectio: To enact that the secretary I eral are to be elected in the appointed by the mother gene, council and with or without a ~ ¯ To change the qualities reqt e.g., the age. To establish or change the n c6uncilor elected is also the assi a special election for this afv have been elected. To establish or change the n eral councilors except the assis secretary or treasurer general. To establish that the voting the chapter of affairs. To establish who have the to the general or provincial which the proposals must be p To establish that committee~, be appointed before the chapte lars by the mother general or 1 To establish that all ordina~ are to be confirmed, modified, chapter or that they remain i: abrogated by a subsequent cha[ To establish the norms on tt one province to another. C. To change the canonica nial report to the Holy See. To establish or change th~ visitation by higher superiors. To establish or exclude the for the higher superior in canor To establish or change the n another sister to make the car To enact that three general side the motherhouse. To enact the frequency of provincial, regional, and local ~ To determine the matters th a council by the law of the co~ To enact or abrogate an adx To enact the frequency of treasurer general to the mothe from the provincial and regior qualities required for a ff profession, legitimacy, ce of the mother general; lish or change a prohibi- ~.:neral and treasurer gen- 'eneral chapter or to be with the consent of her 'etermined term of office. !ired in a general official, :,rm that the first general stant general and to have ~r all general councilors orm that any of the gen- :ant general may also be ;~to be public or secret in ght of making, proposals :hapter and the time at ~sented. for the proposals are to v from among the capitu-aother provincial. ices of a general chapter or abrogated in the next ~ force until modified or transfer of a sister from norms on the quinquen-frequency of canonical aecessity of a companion ~ical visitations. wms for the delegation of 0nical visitation. councilors may live out-meetings of the general, :ouncils. at require a secret vote of ~stitutions. aonitor for superiors. tnancial reports from the general and her council, al superior to the mother ÷ ÷ Impleraentation o] Vatican II VOLUME 26, 1967 17 ÷ ÷ ÷ lo~eph F. Gallen, $.1. general; and from local superiors to the mother general, provincial, or regional superior. To establish norms for the investment of money. To establish the tax on houses, regions, and provinces for regional, provincial, and general expenses. To es-tablish norms for extraordinary taxes. C. To change the canonical norms on alienation, con-tracting of debts and obligations, or business and trade. To establish whether each province is to have its own house of studies. C. To change the canonical norms on the establish-ment, union, and suppression of provinces. C. To change the thirty years of age, legitimacy, and ten years of profession required by canon law for a mother provincial. To enact or change a higher age for the mother provin-cial, e.g., thirty-five years. To enact or change the number of provincial coun-cilors, i.e., two or four. To determine the duration in office and the norms for immediate reelection or reappointment of the mother provincial, provincial councilors, secretary, and treasurer. To enact whether all or some of these are to be appointed by the mother general with the consent of her council or elected in the provincial chapter. To determine the authority of a regional superior, the number of her councilors, frequency of council meetings, and the qualities necessary in a regional superior and officials. C. To change the canonical norms on the erection and suppression of houses. To enact that a local superior in office for sever~il suc-cessive years, e.g., six or twelve, may not again be ap-pointed local superior in any house, outside of a case of serious necessity, before the lapse of a certain number of years, e.g., one, two, three, six. To determine the number of local councilors. To establish or change a term of office for the mistress of novices; to forbid her continuation in office beyond a certain number of years, e.g., twelve. To establish that the mother general may authentically interpret the ordinances of the general chapter. To establish or change a two-thirds vote of the general chapter required for a change in the constitutions. To legislate on the juniorate, the education, and for-mation of the members of the congregation. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 CONSILIU~ MONASTICIM CANONICI A Monastic P Introductory Remarks [These introductory remarks wet meeting of the Canon Law Society 1966.] "The Monastic Proposal for Law" had its origin in early 1964 Canon Law Society, Monsignor Spencer Abbey. Monsignor tol~ board had decided to sponsor "in problematic areas in canonical ] which is almost wholly lacking il is such a problematic area. Mon., in the work of the Society in thi: After consulting with variot with Monsignor Harrington, it ~ the active collaboration of all the United States and Canada who enter into the project. This C( we came to call this gathering o to elaborate a proposal for mon: discussed in some general way i~ national convention and present mission for the Revision of the In the months following I vi teries and came into contact canonists. With the help of the~ tionnaire .was prepared and set periors of the United States and The whole question of mona~ into twelve topical sections. Tw( took to prepare background stm IURIS :oposal for Revision of anon Law given at the twenty-eighth ,f America, October ! 1-13, the Revision of Canon ~vhen the president of the Paul Harrington, visited me that the executive depth studies" of various .~gislation. Monastic law, the present codification, gnor invited me to assist area. ; abbots and at length as decided we would seek monastic canonists of the were willing and able to ,nsilium Monasticum, as [ monastic canonists, was ~stic law which would be a workshop of the 1965 ~.~d to the Pontifical Cora-l: ode of Canon Law. Jted over twenty monas-vith thirty-five monastic men an extensive ques-to all the monastic su- Canada in January, 1965. tic provision was divided , or three canonists under-lies in each of these areas. ÷ ÷ ÷ Monastic Proposal VOLUME 26, !.967 19 MoCnoanstsii~lluumm REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2O As replies to the questionnaire were received, the pertinent matter was forwarded to the respective canonists. In April, 1965, twenty-five monastic canonists and scholars assem-bled for a week's meeting at New Melleray Abbey near Dubuque. Father Paul Boyle, C.P., president of the Canon Law Society, took an active part in the discussions, as did Father James Richardson, C.M., chairman of the canon law committee of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, and Abbot Lawrence Vohs, O.S.B., chairman of the Benedictine Canon Law Committee. After the twelve topical areas had been discussed at length, the canonists voted on some sixty-four conclusions, all of which were passed by a sizable majority. In a number of cases they were unanimously adopted by all. These conclusions were then sent to the responding superiors and participating canonists, and further comment and elaboration were in-vited. In the course of the following summer a workshop took place at St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, Massachusetts. Since it was thought that a" concrete proposal would receive more serious attention, this workshop undertook to pre-pare a schema of such a proposal entitled "Propositum Monasticum de Codice Iuris Canonici Recognoscendo." At this time the project began to elicit international atten-tion in monastic circles. Written communications were received from all parts of the world. The summer work-shop, which was a rather informal affair, received visits from such men as the abbot general of the Olivetans, com-ing from Italy; a Benedictine Abbot from the pontifical abbey in Jerusalem; and a representative of the abbots of France, who met in Paris in July to discuss the conclusions of our meeting at New Melleray. In September, 1965, a schema of the "Propositum" was sent out to the superiors and canonists, suggestions and recommendations being again invited. In October, a meet-ing of monastic canonists was held in Chicago to consider the schema, canon by canon. At this meeting we were privi-leged to have the foremost scholar of monasticism of our times, Dom Jean Leclercq, O.S.B., a professor of the Bene-dictine International College in Rome and a peritus of the Council. While all the conclusions incorporated into the schema had bee.n adopted by a large majority of the participating canonists, unanimity had not been obtained on a number of points. In view of this the Chicago monastic meeting voted that two spokesmen should prepare a statement of the minority positions to accompany our proposals. Un-fortunately, they decided after two months of deliberation not to present their views with the "Propositum Monastio cum." As a result of this delay it was only at: their January meeting that most of the members of the Society's execu-tive board received copies of the "Proposit,um." However, i after due deliberation, the exect mously that the president of th, the "Propositum" to the chairm mission as the contribution of a the Canon Law Society of Ame president of the Society for~ Monasticum" to His Eminence, The "Propositum Monasticurr Copies were sent to all the memh mission and to the consultors co the revision. Many of them hav~ their appreciation of the work nasticum," continues to be stm throughout the world. In gener~ its contents. However, some find In conclusion I would like throughout the world are grat Society of America for the opp! nasticism to make its needs knc sion of canon law. M. Ba Chairman Spen PREFA( Under* the guidance of the S sembled at the Second Ecumenic has so enkindled the spirit of rer no matter what his rank or statu: toward the fullness of Christian ing to all men the witness of a tr This renewal of the Spirit ha,. the People of God. The Churcl~ removing the obsolete, adding both new things and old to pro, the Lord. Since the compilation and pr Code, monasticism in God's p~ all exceptionally vigorous ex[ Council gives eminent witness t~ in the Church today, when in it of religious life, it acknowledge~, importance of monasticism fox Praising the ancient monastic Council requires their adaptatk ent, "so that the monasteries wi] building up the Christian pe~ The new forms of cenobitic * This is an English translation pre[ ticum from the original Latin text wh v. 26 0966), pp. 331-357. tive board voted unani- Society should forward tn of the Revision Corn- ]committee sponsored by !ica. On February 2, the arded the "Propositum Pietro Cardinal Ciriaci. ." has been well received. ~.rs of the Pontifical Com-acerned with this area of written to us expressing The "Propositum Mo-lied by monastic groups d most have agreed with it too extensive. to say that the monks eful to the Canon Law ~rtunity it has given mo- ~n in regard to the revi-il Pennington, O.C.S.O. Consilium Monasticum St. Joseph's Abbey :er, Massachusetts 01562 :E pirit, Christ's Church, as-al Council of the Vatican, ewal that every Christian, ~, can more surely advance life and perfect love, giv-ae follower of Christ. not neglected the law of desires to revise her law, the pertinent, presenting ide for all in the house of ~mulgation of the present )vidence has experienced !ansion. The Ecumenical the value of monastic life proposals on the renewal both the past and present the Church and society. traditions of service, the ,n to the needs of the pres- 1 be, as it were, sources for ple." ~nd eremitic life rising in ared by the Consilium Monas-ich was published in the Jurist, ÷ ÷ ÷ Monastic Proposal VOLUME 26, 1967 21 Consillum Monosticum REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS many parts of the world today are further indications of monastic vitality. The eremitical life, a ,~ery special ex-pression of monasticism, is to be highly esteemed; for, by God's grace, it engendered men of great h61iness through-out the Christian centuries. The revised Code must neces-sarily provide some legislation to foster and strengthen this way of life. It is fitting that monks take part in the renewal of the law they are to live by. Living in a monastic milieu, follow-ing a rule hallowed by centuries, they more aptly know by experience the authentic needs and desires of this partic-ular way of life. Through this "Proposal" monastic canon-ists from various institutes and countries wish to humbly offer their collaboration, so that the new, corpus of law will be such that all monks may pursue a more faithful and fruitful monastic life before the People of God and all mankind. A concrete proposal of a Titulus:for the revised Code is presented, to obtain, in a complete and orderly way, more satisfactory norms for monks. Since the promulgation of the present Code deeper his-torical and theolo'gical studies of monasticism have been made in various monastic orders and congregations, grad-ually restoring authentic spirit and meaning. Scientific investigations of the ordo monasticus (order of monks) and monastic law have been very fruitful. The Sacred Congre-gation for Religious has issued many documents in our day pertaining to monasticism, e,g., the Law Proper to the Confederation of Monastic Congregations o~ the Order of Saint Benedict, confirmed by Pope Pius XII, and the legis-lation for nuns which has practically revised their entire law. Pius XII's radio addresses to cloistered nuns concern-ing the contemplative life should also be cited. Further-more,: ample provision for monks has been made in the Oriental Code. From these various documents it is evident that the Holy See is vitally concerned about the needs of monasticism. References can be inserted in the monastic title to those laws for religious which may be proportionately applied to monks--in a manner exemplified in Title XVII of Book II of the present Code. The sources given in this Proposal for each canon are not exhaustive. Only those texts issued by the Holy See since the promulgation of the present Code are cited. How-ever, because of its authority, discretion, and paramount influence on Western monasticism we frequently cite the Rule of Saint Benedict, that father and legislator of monks, under whose patronage we humbly offer this "Proposal." Consilium Monasticum Iuris Canonici Office of the Moderator Saint Joseph's Abbey Spencer, Massachusetts 01562 MONASTIC LIFE or THE Section 1. Monastic life. Chapter 1. Monasteries an Article I. Monasteries] Article 2. Federation. Chapter 2. Internal mona Article 1. Admission. Article 2. Studies. Article 3. Obligations Article 4. Transfer. Article 5. Egress. ORDER OF MONKS federation. tic law. Section 2. Specific forms of rc 3nastic life. Chapter 1. Cenobitic life. Article 1. Government. Article 2. Apostolate. Chapter 2. Eremitical life Chapter 3. Integral conte aplative life. 1-22 4-10 4-6 7-10 11-22 11-14 15-16 17-18 19-20 21-22 23--42 23-30 24-28 29-30 31-38 39-42 Monmtic Proposal VOLUME 26, 1967 23 MONASTIC LIFE or THE ORDER OF MONKS SECTION 1 MONASTIC LIFE .÷ ÷ ÷ C~onsilium Monasticum REVIEW FOR REL]GIdU~; 24 Canon 1 It is of great importance to the Church that the conse-crated life, lived according to :the monastic traditions preserved through the centuries, should continuously be adapted to time and place, that there might always be men of prayer unceasingly imploring divine mercy, draw-ing down every heavenly blessing upon the People of God. NOTE: Monastic life is distinguished" from other forms of religious life because of its proper characteristics, which are expressed in the various monastic rules, among which, in the West, the Rule of Saint Benedict ~holds a special place. In this form of life "the principal occupation is to pray to God" (John XXIII, Allocution, Vos paterno animo). The apostolic significance of this has in our days become more evident. Solitude and separation from the world pertain to every religious: "Every vocation dedi-cated to God requires them, each in its own proper way" (cf. Pius XII, Allocution, Haud mediocri, Feb. 11, 1958). However in the monastic life they have a very special meaning, both for the Church and for civil society, as Paul VI has clearly taught (cf. Allocution, Quale salute, Oct. 24, 1964). Stability in this state is confirmed "by vows, or by other sacred bonds (e.g., promise, oath, con-secration: c[. Pius XII, Apostolic Const., Provida Mater Ecclesia, Feb. 2, 1947, art. III, par. 2, no. 1) which are like vows in their purpose." (Second Vatican Council, Dogmatic Const. on the Church, chap. 6; no. 44). The order of monks, then, "though it is not of the hierarchical structure of the Church, nevertheless undeniably belongs to its life and holiness" (ibid.). SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chs. 4, 43, 50, 66, 73; Second Vatican Council, Decree on the Renewal of Re-ligious Life, nos. 2, 5, 9; Decree on the Missionary Activity of the Church, nos. 18, 40; Benedict XV, Encyclical Letter, Principi Apostolorum, Oct. 5, 1920; Plus X'I, Epistle, Non sine animi, Male 28, 1923; Apostolic Const., Umbratilem remotamque wtam, July 8, 1924; Apostolic Letter, Monachorum vita, Jan. 26, 1925; Encyclical Letter, Rerum Ecclesiae, Feb. 28, 1926; Pius XII, Encyclical Letter, Fulgens radiatur, Mar. 21, 1947; Epistle, Sedecim ante saeculis, Mar. 25, 1948; Apostolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950; Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 31M par. 3; Allocution, Omnibus probe, Sept. 24, 1953; Encyclical Letter, Ecclesiae fastos, June 5, 1954; E.pistle, Sexto decimo revoIuto, May 31, 1956; Allocution, Nous sommes heureux, Apr. 11, 1958; John XXIII, Allocutions, Vos paterno animo, Sept. 25, 1959; Allocution, Notre joie, Oct. 20, 1960; Epistle, Recens a te, Oct. 20, 1960; Paul VI, Allocution, Quale salute, Oct. 24, 1964; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Instruc-tion, Inter praeclara, Nov. 23, 1950. Canon 2 The dispositions concerning monks, even when ex-pressed in the masculine gender, apply equally to nuns, unless it appears otherwise from the context or from the nature of the case. NOTE: Everyone is well aware that women have entered more fruitfully into public affairs. They are becoming continuously more conscious of. their full human dignity. It is wholly undesirable then that they should find them-selves treated as inferiors or minors in the law of the Church. It seems that the law for nuns regarding regular superi-ors should be so revised as to exempt both them and their monasteries, making them solely dependent on the regular superiors of their own order. The principal rea-son for this is to safeguard the spirit proper to theorder. But no one can fail to see the difficulties in having two superiors and having to seek direction from both in many matters. The local ordinary should retain the right and duty to supply for deficiencies if the regular superior is seriously neglectful. But in general, the abbess should rule her own monastery without masculine intervention. To obtain a suitable renewal of the legislation for nuns, their desires and recommendations can be ascer-tained from meetings of federations or from other legiti-mately convoked assemblies. SOURCES: Code of Canon Law, canon 490; John XXIII, Encyclical Letter, Pacem in terris, Apr. I 1, 1963; Paul VI, Allocution, E motivo, Sept. 8, 1965; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Decree Ior the Order o[ Re[ormed Cister-clans, Dec. 27, 1965, no. 5. Canon 3 Monastic institutes by their nature are neither clerical nor lay. ~qthout prejudice to their constitutions and par-ticular laws, they are subject to the canons that follow. NOTE: Monastic life is not an intermediate state be-tween the clerical and lay states in the divine hierarchical structure of the Church. Rather, the faithful are called by God from both these states of life to enjoy this particu-lar gift in the life of the Church and thus each in his own way to assist in her salvific mission. SOURCES: Code of Canon Law, canon 488, no. 4; Second Vatican Council, Dogmatic Const. on the Church, no. 43; Plus XII, Allocution, Annus sacer, Dec. 8, 1950, part I; Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 314, par. 3. CHAPTER 1 MONASTERIES AND FEDERATION Article 1--Monasteries Canon 4 1. A monastery, a dwelling in which monastic life is lived, is designated autonomous if the community, in re- Monastic Proposal VOLUME 26, 1967 25 ÷ Consillum M onasticura REVIEW FOR REI'IGIOUS gard to the ordinary monastic regimen, rules itseff through an abbot, over whom in the internal government there is no other ordinary superior. 2. In law, the term monastery includes also a laura; and the term abbot, any superior of a monastery, without prej-udice to the particular prescriptions in the constitutions of each institute. NOTE: 1. For the sake of clarity the term monastery is here canonically determined as "a dwelling in which monastic life is lived." In law nothing is so dangerous as to call things by the same name, or include them under a single term, when they are to be guided by different norms. It is expedient that things which are to be subject to di-verse laws be distinguished by different names. The concept of an autonomous monastery, already found in the Code, is defined here following the thought common to the authors. Cf. A. Larraona in Commentar,um pro religiosis, III (1922), pp. 133 ff.; A. Vermeersch in Periodica, X (1922), pp. (7) ff.; J. Konrad, The Transfer of Religious to Anott~er Community (Catholic University Press: Washington, 1949), pp. 94 ft.; U. Beste, Introductio in Codicem, ed. 5 (D'Auria: Naples, 1956), p. 331. 2. A laura, the union of several hermitages under one moderator or spiritual father, can be autonomous like a monastery. It belongs to the constitutions of each monastic institute to determine which superiors are to re-ceive the name of abbot or the equivalent office. SOURCES: Pius XII, Encyclical Letter, Fulgens radiatur, Mar. 21, 1947; Homily, Exultent hodie, Sept. 18, 1947; Apostolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21~ 1950: General Statutes, art. VI; Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canons 8; 313, par. 2. Canon 5 1. For the erection of an exempt monastery, in addi-tion to the requirements of the statutes of each institute, the approval of the Apostolic See and the written con-sent of the local ordinary are necessary. 2. The local ordinary may establish a monastery, even an autonomous one, in which the members will seek evan-gelical perfection according to the rules and traditions of monasticism; but he must first consult the Apostolic See or at least the national Conference of Bishops. 3. In the case of nuns who pertain to an order, it is fur-ther required that they be affiliated by an abbot of the first order, at least in regard to spiritual care. 4. The erection of a monastery or the permission to es-tablish a new monastery includes authorization to have a church or public oratory and to carry out sacred func-tions there; it also includes, without prejudice to condi-tions laid down in the decree of erection or the permission, authorization for all the devout works proper to the mon-astery according to its statutes. NOTE: 1. This is the present law. 2. Under the present law a bishop may establish a religious congregation (canon 492, par. 1). Why may he not also establish a monastery? It is certainly desirable that monasteries be formed in federations (i.e., congregations) and confederations, which provide mutual aid both spiritual and temporal. Neverthe-less, each monastic institute has its own proper rule and constitutions which to some extent limit the expressions of monasticism possible within the institute. Provision is needed, especially today, for the expressions evolving from fruitful monastic traditions. The diocesan setting seems most suitable for these experiments, as it has been for new religious congregations and, in an earlier tradition, for the foundation of new monasteries. Ordinarily at the present time when a monk, led by the Spirit, undertakes an experiment in monasticisrn under episcopal auspices, he must seek an indult of exclaustration, or even of secularization, relinquishing his canonical status as a monk. This is not canonical equity. 3. This provision, in force already for tertiaries tcanon 492, par. 1), is advocated so that nuns may receive a ormation according to the true spirit of their own in-stitute (cf. Pius XII, Radio Message. Cddant volontiers, luly 19, 1958), and also other assistance according to the particular form of affiliation. 4. This is the present law. SOURCES: 1. Code of Canon Law, canon 497, par. 1; Pius XII, Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 8, par. 3. 2. Code of Canon Law, canon 492, par. I; Second Vatican Council, Deo'ee on the Renewal of Re-ligious LiJe, no. 19; Pius XII, Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 8, par. 1. 3. Code of Canon Law, canon 492, par. 1; Plus XII, Radio Message, Cddant volontiers, July 19, 1958; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Epistle to the Apostolic Nuncios, Mar. 7, 1951. 4. Code of Canon Law, canon 497, par. 1; Pius XII, Apostolic Letter, Postquara apostollcls, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 9, par. 1. Canon 6 I. Preserving always the spirit of evangelical poverty, every monastery can acquire and possess temporalities with stable revenues. 2. The temporalities are to be administered according to the norms of the constitutions and the prescriptions of canons 532, 536, and 537. NOTE: According to monastic tradition and the common law of the Church, each monastery, as a moral person, has the right to acquire, retain, "and administer temporal goods, and the obligation to provide a suitable home and sustenance for its monks. The value and need of a spirit of poverty, which is an essential of the Christian message and a first principle of monasticism, does not exempt monks from having a proper esteem for the economic order and from using material goods in conformity with Monastic Proposal VOLUME 26, 1967 + ÷ ÷ Consilium M onasticum REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS their state. They should be most eager and generous in coming to the aid of the poor. In a true spirit of poverty, they should keep only what is useful to the community, lest their wealth become an occasion of discord, envy, or pride. The faculties concerning administration which are found in the Rescript, Gum admotae, of Nov. 6, 1964, should be incorporated into the common law and be extended to all abbots. SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chs. 31-34, 66; Code of Canon Law, canons 496; 531-532; 1495, par. 2; Second Vatican Council, Decree on the Renewal of Religious Lqe, no. 13; Pius XII, Radio Message, Oggi al compiersi, Sept. 1, 1944; Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canons 63-64; John XXIII, Encyclical Letter, Mater et Magistra, May 15, 1961; Paul VI, Encyclical Letter, Ecclesiam Suam, Aug. 6, 1964. Article 2---Federation Canon 7 Federations of monasteries, unions of several autono-mous monasteries under one superior, while maintaining the principle of autonomy, are highly recommended, to promote true monastic life and to foster the full develop-ment of each monk in his vocation. NOTE: Because monastic congregations have the nature of federated unions, the term "federation," which is found in the Apostolic Constitution, Sponsa Christi (General Statutes, article VII), seems preferable. In a federation each monastery retains its own proper independence and juridic personality. The superior of the union can use the title of Abbot President, Abbot General, or Archabbot. His powers within the federation, which are determined by the constitutions, are ordinarily to be quite restricted. SOURCES: Code of Canon Law, canon 488, no. 2; Second Vatican Council, Decree on the Renewal of Religious Life, no. 22; Pius XII, Homily, Exsultent hodie, Sept. 18, 1947; Apostolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950: General Statutes, art. VII; Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canons 11; 313, par. 1, no. 1; Allocution, Omnibus probe, Sept. 24, 1953; Radio Message, Lorsque Nous. Aug. 2, 1958; John XXIII, Allocution, Notre joie, Oct. 20, 1960; Epistle, II tempio massimo, July 2, 1962; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Instruction, Inter praeclara, Nov. 23, 1950, no. XVII; Epistle to the Apostolic Nuncios, Mar. 7, 1951. Canon 8 Confederations, fraternal associations of several mo-nastic federations under one primate, are also strongly recommended. NOTE: Confederations of monastic federations are to be set up that through the fraternal unity and cooperation of the federations, according to the norms and within the limits defincd by the Holy See, monastic life will be faith- fully upheld. Adapted to the needs of our days, it will be sustained by the fraternal assistance in personnel, posses-sions, and activities shared among the federations. SOURCES: Second Vatican Council, Decree on the Re-newal of Religious Life, no. 22; Pius XII, Homily, Ex-sultent hodie, Sept. 18, 1947; Apostolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950: General Statutes, art. VII; Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 313, par. 1, no. 1; Brief, Pacis vinculum, Mar. 21, 1952; Allocution, Omnibus probe, Sept. 24, 1953; Radio Message, Lorsque Nous, Aug. 2, 1958; John XXI/I, Allocution, Vos paterno animo, Sept. 25, 1959; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Decree of Mar. 21, 1952, "Lex propria," nos. 4, 21, 22. Canon 9 The establishment of a federation or confederation with its own proper laws is reserved to the Apostolic See. Such unions exercise only an office of service toward the monasteries and the monks, especially through visitation, appellate judicature, and fraternal assistance. NOTE: Federation and confederation presuppose some general laws accepted by all the monasteries but do not exclude particular norms and customs in each monastery. The list of functions of a federation or confederation in the canon is not exhaustive. SOURCES: Code of Canon Law, canons 488, no. 8; 501, par. 3; Pius XI, Encyclical Letter, Quadragesimo anno, May 15, 1931; Plus XII, Apostolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950: General Statutes, art. VII; Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canons 11; 28; 41, par. 2; Brief, Pacis vinculum, Mar. 21, 1952; John XXIII, Encyclical Letter, Mater et Magistra, May 15, 1961; En-cyclical Letter, Pacem in terris, Apr. 11, 1963; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Instruction, Inter praeclara, Nov. 23, 1950, nos. XXIII-XXIV; Decree of Mar. 21, 1952, "Lex propria," Ratio institutionis praesertim studiorum O.C.S.O., Nov. 27, 1959, Introd.; nos. 25 ft. CHAPTER 2 INTERNAL MONASTIC LAW Article 1--Admission Canon I0 1. Each autonomous monastery has an inherent right to have its own novitiate. 2. If a monastery is incapable of fulfilling the prescrip- ÷ tions concerning the formation of novices, the abbot has a + serious obligation to send them to another monastery. + NOTE: Monastic formation implies that monks in the service of Christ the Lord, the true King, are instructed, trained, and formed as integral men to Christian perfec-tion through prayer, contemplation of divine realities, and legitimate apostolic activity. Monastic Proposal VOLUME 26, 1967 ~9 + ÷ ÷ onsillum Monasticum REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS According to Saint Benedict and other monastic fathers, a monk lives in a permanent family under a rule and abbot, who holds the place of Christ. Therefore novices and professed, in so far as possible, should be formed in their own monastery. SOURCES: Rule o[ St. Benedict, Prologue, chs. 1, 58; Pius XI, Apostolic Letter, Monachorura vitae, Jan. 26, 1925; Plus xII, Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 86; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Ratio institutionis praesertira studiorum O.C.S.O., Nov. 27, 1959, nos. 11-12. Canon 11 The abbot may train all his novices without distinc-tion in one novitiate under one director. NOTE: In view of the gradual development that has taken place among those who under theP aternal authority of .th.e abbot make up the monastic family, a single novxuate is required, returning to a unity and simplicity which is more consonant with monastic traditions: This is true even if different members take a greater or lesser part in the celebration of the Divine Office. SOURCES: Second Vatican Council, Decree on the Re-newal o[ Religious Li[e, no. 15; Sacred Congregation for Religious. Decree for the French (Solesmes) Congregation O.S.B., Apr. 8, 1965; Decree [or the Order o[ Re[ormed Cistercians, Dec. 27, 1965, no. 1. Canon 12 In admitting candidates the constitutions are to be fol-lowed, sa[eguarding canons 538, 541-546, 581, and 582. NOTE: It should be noted that the impediments to the novitiate need to be clarified. The text of canon 542 places in grave doubt the validity of many professions which per-haps are never questioned. For example, how would one determine "fraud" in the case of a candidate who did not properly represent his true character? Canon 544, also, needs to be simplified. Canon 13 The whole o[ monastic formation pertains properly to the father of the monastery. However it is ordinarily ex-pedient that a novice master be named, following can-ons 559-560. Under the direction of the abbot, he will guide the formation of the novices according to the pro-gram proper to the institute. NOTE: This is the present law. SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chs. 2, 58; Code of Canon Law, canons 559-562; Pius XII, Apostolic Const., Sedes Sapientiae, May 31, 1956; Sacred Congregation for Re-ligious, General Statutes, July 7, 1956, art. 19, par. I; Ratio institutionis praesertim studiorum O.C.S.O., Introd., par. 20; nos. 2-5. Canon 14. After a novitiate of at least one year, and another pro-longed probation with some form of commitment, of at least three years according to the constitutions, profes-sion is made with the consent of the chapter and the mo-nastic blessing is received from the father of the monas-tery; and thus the monk becomes a member of the com-munity forever. NOTE: The profession of a monk is fundamentally a lifelong commitment before God to the monastic way of life. Therefore, the distinction between simple and solemn profession or temporary and perpetual vows is not suit-able for monks. During the prolon.ged probation, which certainly should precede a monasuc consecration which is perpetual and inviolable, it is fitting that some sort of bond exist--a promise, an oath, but preferably not a vow properly so called (so that the full significance of the monastic consecration through monastic vows is not ob-scured: "The Church not only raises the religious profes-sion to the dignity of a canonical state by her approval, but even manifests that this profession is a state conse-crated to God by the liturgical setting of that profes-sion."-- Second Vatican Council, Dogmatic Constztution on the Church, no. 45). Through this bond the candidate, in a way which is proportionate to the nature of the bond and the time involved, commits himself to the community and is dedicated to God. This bond could be perpetual on ¯ the part of the subject (e.g., first vows in the Society of Jesus). The obligation it places on the community in-creases with time (cf. below, canon 21). SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict. chs. 3, 58; Code of Canon Law, canons 572, par. 2; 574-575; Second Vatican Council, Dogmatic Const. on the Church, no. 44; Pius XII, Apostolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950: Gen-eral Statutes, art. III, par. 2; Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canons 108-109; 112, par. 2; Apostolic Const., Sedes Sapienliae, May 31, 1956; Sacred Congregation for Religious, General Statutes, July 7, 1956, art. 7-8. Article 2--Studies Canon 15 1. Every autonomous monastery may have its own scho-lasticate. 2. If a monastery is not able to have a properly qnalified scholasticate, the monks shall be sent for studies to the scholasticate of another monastery or of a religious insti-tute which does meet the necessary requirements, or to the courses at a diocesan seminary. NOTE: Cf. the note under canon 10 above. SOURCES: Code of Canon Law, canon 587; Pius XII, Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 123: Sacred Congregation for Religious, Ratio institutionis + ÷ Monastic Proposal VOLUME~ 26, 1967 ÷ ÷ ÷ Consilium M onastivum REVIEW FOR REklGIOUS prae'sertim studiorum O.C.S.O., Nov. 27, 1959, Introd., par: 9~ no. 31. Canon 16 In regard to the program of studies, each institute should follow its own particular statutes, approved by the Apostolic See, providing an integral monastic formation, and also a full priestly training for those who are destined. to the priesthood. This formation should be inspired by the gospels, in harmony with tradition, drawing from the font of the liturgy, adapted to the present day, and inti. mately united with the celebration of the sacred liturgy and the contemplation of divine realities. NOTE: In the Apostolic Constitution, Sedes Sapientiae, and the accompanying General Statutes, Plus XII in-structed each institute to have its own program of forma-tion, especially for studies, adapted to the particular needs and circumstances of the institute. The monastic pro-gram ought to provide not only for the clerics, but for all the members of the monastic family, including the lay brothers, if there be such. "The primary, if not the sole purpose of those who have consecrated themselves to God is to pray to Him and to contemplate or meditate on divine realities; now how can they fulfill this important duty unless they have a profound and thorough knowledge of the teachings of our faith?"--Pius XI, Apostolic Epistle, Unigenitus Dei Filius, Mar. 19, 1924, no. 5. SOURCES: Second Vatican Council, Const. on the Sacred Liturgy, nos. 16-17; Decree on the Renewal of Religious Lqe, no. 18; Decree on Priestly Formation; Pius XI, Apostolic Epistle, Unigenitus Dei Filius, Mar. 19, 1924; Pius XII, Apostolic Const., Sedes Sapientiae, May 31, 1956; Sacred Congregation . for Religious, General Statutes, July 7, 1956, art. 19; Ratzo ~nstztutmn,s praesert~m stu&orum O.C.S.O., Nov. 27, 1959, no. 32; Decree for the French (Solesmes) Congregation O.S.B., Apr. 8, 1965; Decree the Order of Reformed Cistercians, Dec. 27, 1965; Sacred Congregation of Rites, Instruction, Inter Oecumenici Concilii, Sept. 26, 1964, nos. 11-12, 18. Article 3.--Obligations Canon 17 All monks are bound to offer daily the prayer of the Church in a form approved by the Church, according to the norms of their statutes. NOTE: Tradition has always assigned to monks the duty of prayer. In some monastic institutes, due to the develop-ment among the various members of the monastic family, recognized by the Second Vatican Council (Decree on the Renewal of Religious LiIe, no. 15), all are now acknowl-edged to be truly monks. They have diverse duties and functions, even in regard to the Divine Office or some other public prayer of the Church, their participation being determined by the abbot, weighing individual ob- ¯ ligations and talents. Therefore it is necessary for common law to allow the constitutions of each monastic institute to specify the personal and choral obligations of its mem-bers. Moreover, it Should be noted that hermits, true monks, have their own proper traditions in this matter. SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chs. 18, 43, 50; Second Vatican Council, Const. on the Sacred Liturgy, nos. 95, 98; Decree on the Renewal of Religious Life, nos. 9, 15; Pius XII, Encyclical Letter, Fulgens radiatur, Mar. 21, 1947; Apostolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950: General Statutes, art. V; Apostolic Letter, Postquam apos-tolio's, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 157; John XXIII, Allocution, Vos paterno anirao, Sept. 25,.1959; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Decree for the French (Solesmes) Congre-gation O.S.B., Apr. 8,' 1965; Decree for the Order of Re. formed Cistercians, Dec. 27, 1965; Sacred Congregation of Rites, Instruction, Inter Oecumenici Concilii, Sept. 26, 1964, no. 82. Canon 18 Monastic work should be in keeping with the rule, constitutions, and traditions of each institute, assuring, with the aid of divine providence, appropriate support for the community. NOTE: All monks, including contemplatives, are obliged to manual or intellectual work by the natural law and by their duty of penance and reparation. Moreover, labor is a standard means of withdrawing the soul from dangers and guiding it toward spiritual horizons; it tenders part-nership with divine providence in the natural and super-natural orders; in labor charity matures. As the axiom, "ora et labora," proclaims, work has always been a basic norm and law of monastic life. However work is only one of the traditional triad: labor, liturgy, and lectio (sacred reading). A harmonious equilibrium must be maintained among these three. SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chs. 4, 48; Second Vati-can Council, Decree on the Renewal of Religious Life, no. 13; Pius XII, Encyclical Letter, Fulgens radmtur, Mar. 21, 1947; Apostolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950: General Statutes, art. VIII; Radio Message, Si Nous avons, July 26, 1958; Radio Message, Lorsque Nous, Aug. 2, 1958; John XXIII, Allocution, Notre joie, Oct. 20, 1960; Epistle, Recens a te, Oct. 20, 1960; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Instruction, Inter praeclara, Nov. 23, 1950; nos, XXVI-XXVII; Epistle to the Apostolic Nun-cios, Mar. 7, 1951. Article 4.--Trans[er Canon 19 A monk may transfer from one autonomous monastery to another with the permission of both abbots and the consent of the chapter of the recipient monastery. NOTE: Here transfer is limited to within the order of monks, where monastic status will remain intact. A transfer to another form of consecrated life requires the. authorizati6n of the Apostolic See. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mmfastic Proposal VOLUME 26, 1967 To require and accept, without requiring further re-course, the judgment of the abbots, who are close to the situation and know the monk better, is fully consonant with monastic tradition and the "principle of subsidi-arity." (Cf. Pius XI, Encyclical Letter, Quadragesimo anno, May 15, 1931; John XXIII, Encyclical Letter, Mater et Magistra, May 15, 1961.) SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chap. 61; Code o{ Canon Law, canon 632; Plus XII, Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 182, par. 1; Sacred Con-gregation for Religious, Decree of Mar. 21, 1952, "Lex propria," nos. 77, 96. Canon 20 A monk transferring to another institute must make a new novitiate or profession according to the require-ments of its constitutions. If the constitutions enjoin no obligation, novitiate is omitted and, after a trial period, the monk is definitively incorporated or returns to his original monastery. NOTE: Because the fundamental principles of the mo-nastic life are common to all monastic institutes, the repetition of the novitiate is not necessary; but because each institute has its own customs and traditions, some period of probation in the new institute is called for. However, if the probation is unduly prolonged this would be contrary to equity toward the monk and the other institute. SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chs. 1, 61; Code of Canon Law, canons 633-634; Plus XII, Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 183, par. 2. Article 5.--Egress Consilium Monasticum REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Canon 21 In regard to the departure of members the constitu-tions of each institute and, with due proportion, canons 638-641, 646, and 668 are to be observed, as well as the following: 1. The abbot of an autonomous monastery with his council's consent, manifested by secret voting, can dis-miss or dispense a member from the commitment under-taken during the probation period. 2. In the case of a dismissal, there is a grave obligation in conscience to have truly proportionate causes and to give the member full liberty to make his response. 3. For the dismissal of a professed monk, the confirma-tion of the Sacred Congregation is required; therefore the abbot must immediately forward to it the decree of dismissal, the evidence, and the monk's responses. 4. The subject has the right, during ten days on which he can act, to appeal to the Apostolic See against the decree of dismissal. While this appeal is pending, a dis-missal has no juridic effect. NOTE: In restoring a member to secular life, a simplifi-cation of processes and the application of the "principle of subsidiarity" are very desirable. The local abbot and his counselors can better judge a case than a superior who is far removed. Such a procedure is more in accord with the concept of an autonomous monastery. The rights of the members are properly safeguarded by the power of appeal to the Holy See and, in the case of the professed monk, by the required confirmation of the Sacred Congre-gation. Note well that "professed monk" here means a member definitively incorporated into the community by monastic profession which is of its nature perpetual (cf. canon 14.). SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chap. 28; Code of Canon Law, canons 646-648, 656-662, 666, 668; Secretary of State, Rescript, Cure admotae, Nov. 4, no. 14. Canon 22 Dismissal frees the subject from all his commitments, including monastic vows, except those connected with major orders, safeguarding the prescriptions of canon 641, paragraph 1. NOTE: It seems more profitable to his spiritual well-being to free one dismissed from all his commitments to monastic life, as is ordinarily done in present practice. SOURCES: Code of Canon Law, canons 640, par. 1; 648. SECTION 2 SPECIFIC FORMS OF MONASTIC LIFE CENOBITIC LIFE Canon 23 The cenobitic life is one lived in community under a rule and an abbot, following Christ together in fraternal love, radiating in the Church a witness of generous, vigi-lant apostolic life. NOTE: Rule here is not limited to some rule already ap-proved by the Apostolic See, but extends to any rule, based on the ancient traditions, which may be approved in the future. That the abbot govern his community under the guidance of a rule is essential to maintain a stable and peaceful community life under an extensive personal authority. "Together" (in communi) is the element which distinguishes the cenobite from the hermit. SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, Prologue, chap. 1; Sec-ond Vatican Council, Decree on the Renewal o[ Religious Li[e, no. 15; Pius XI, Apostolic Letter, Monachorum vita, Jan. 26, 1925; Plus xII Encyclical Letter, Fulgens radi- + + + Monastic Proposal VOLUME 26, 1967 35 ÷ ÷ ~on~ilium Monasticum REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS atur, Mar. 21, 1947; Epistle, Sedecim ante saecula, Mar. 25, 1948; Epistle, Sexto decimo revoluto, May 31, 1956; Allocution, Nous sommes heureux, Apr. 11, 1958; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Ratio institutionis praesertim studiorum O.C.S.O., Nov. 27, 1959, Introd., par. 5; nos. I, 6, 11. Article 1.--Government Canon 24 I. The abbot, father and shepherd of his monks in the spiritual and temporal orders, should have a long, even life-tenure of office, as long as he remains capable of ful-filling his duties, unless the constitutions provide other-wise. 2. The importance and gravity of the abbatial office requires of abbots and equivalent superiors that they tender their resignation, on their own initiative or at the invitation of competent authority, when the pressure advanced age or another serious cause undermines the proper execution of their office. NOTE: Although the abbot's spiritual paternity of its nature does not require perpetuxty in office, but only a rather extended term, nevertheless through the centuries life-tenure has almost always prevailed. (Cf. P. Salmon, L'abbd clans la tradition monastique [Paris, Sirey, 1962].) Such tenure is more desirable where more rests on the discretion and judgment of the superior lest there be incessant change, a cause of instability in men and organizations. Nevertheless common law should respect particular traditions which favor temporary abbots. But what is most important is that the constitutions of each institute provide very practical means whereby an incapable abbot can be released from office. An example can be drawn from the Declarations of the Subiaco Con-gregation of the Order of Saint Benedict: If it happens that an abbot through infirmity, age, or some other just cause becomes incapable of governing his monastery and tend-ers his resignation, it is sent to the Abbot General, who examines and decides the matter with the consent of his council. ; if however the abbot does not offer his resignation, ,the Abbot Visitor, with the greatest charity, should firmly admonish fiim to resign or request a co-adjutor before the monastery suffers from a lack of proper government. If the admonition fails, the Visitor is obliged to inform the chapter. ; when the chapter is not in session, the Visitor, with the counsel of other superiors in the province, examines and decides the case according to his own conscience. However the Abbot General's confirmation of the decision is required for validity. (No. 197) SOURCES: Rule o~ St. Benedict, chs. 2, 31, 49, 64, 65; Code of Canon Law, canons 505, 530; Second Vatican Council, Decree on the Pastoral O0~ce of Bishops in the Church, no. 21; Pius XII, Apostolic Letter, Fulgens radiatur, Mar. 21, 1947; Apostolic Letter, Postquam apos-tolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 32, par. 1; Allocution, Nous sommes heureux, Apr. 11, 1958; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Ratio institutionis praesertim studiorum O.C.S.O., Nov. 27, 1959, Introd., par. 20; nos. 2, 20, 23, 30, 35; Decree Ior the French (Solesmes) Congregation O.S.B., Apr. 8, 1965. Canon 25 From the day of his installation the abbot, besides the other rights of major superiors, has jurisdiction in both forums, according to the norms of the constitutions. NOTE: Jurisdiction is essential for an abbot to fulfill his oblig.ations as spiritual father and shepherd of his community. SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chs. 2, 3, 60, 62, 64, 65; Code of Canon Law, canons 488, no. 8; 501, par. 1; 503; 514, par. 1; 647; 896; 1395, par. 3; 1579, par. 1; 2385; 2386; Pius XII, Apostolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950: General Statutes, art. VI, no. 2; Apostolic Letter, Post-quam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canons 26; 46, par. 1. Canon 26 Abbots, legitimately elected, should within three months of their election receive the abbatial blessing; and then they may use the abbatial insignia. NOTE: This is in accord with canon 625 oE the present law. The insignia which traditionally belong to the ab-batial office signify the autonomy of the monastery. SOURCES: Code of Canon Law, canon 625; Pius XII, Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 174. Canon 27 1. The abbot may call his monks to the priesthood or diaconate, providing them with dimissorial letters in conformity with the norms of common law and the con-stitutions of the institute. 2. The canonical title for the ordination of a monk is that of the monastery of his stability. NOTE: This is the present law. SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chap. 62; Code of Canon Law, canons 964, no. 2; 982, par. 1; Pius XII, Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 132; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Instruction, Quantum religiones omnes, Dec. 1, 1931, no. 16; Ratio institutionis praesertim studiorum O.C.S.O., Nov. 27, 1959, nos. 26, 33. Canon 28 1. The abbot should summon the community for counsel on all important matters, as determined by the constitutions; for lesser matters he need only consult the council of seniors. ÷ ÷ ÷ Monastic Proposal VOLUME. 26, "1967 Consiliura Monastieum REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 2. All who have been definitively received into the monastic family have voice in chapter, unless the con-stitutions expressly provide otherwise. NOTE: Because of its discretion and authority the Rule of St. Benedict in a relatively short time became known throughout Europe and became almost the exclusive rule for monks. Because of this authority and the experience of centuries, it seems good to introduce into the common law, even though it may be something proper to the mind of St. Benedict, that the abbot consult the seniors in lesser matters and the whole community or chapter in more weighty ones. Concerning the equality of voice, cf. the notes under canons 11 and 14. "However, monasteries of men., ac-cording to their nature and constitutions, may admit clerics and laymen. . on an equal footing and with. equal rights and obhgatlons, apart from those flowing from sacred orders."--Second Vatican Council, Decree on the Renewal of Religious Life, no. 15. SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chap. 3; Code of Canon Law, canons 516; 578, no. 3; Second Vatican Council, Decree on the Renewal of Religious Life, no. 15; Pius XII, Encyclical Letter, Fulgens radiatur, Mar. 21, 1947; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Decree for ihe French (Solesmes) Congregation O.S.B., Apr. 8, 1965; Decree for the Order of Reformed Cistercians, Dec. 27, 1965, no. 1. Article 2.--Apostolate Canon 29 The cenobitic vocation can express itself in some apos-tolate or work of Christian charity legitimately under-taken in harmony with the spirit and authentic nature of the institute. NOTE: This historical fact, which has merited the praise of the Church and society through the centuries, responds to the needs of souls today, making monasteries sources o[ life for the Christian people. SOURCES: Second Vatican Council, Decree on the Re-newal of Religious Life, nos. 9, 20; Pius XI, Apostolic Const., Umbratilem remotamque vitam, July 8, 1924; En-cyclical Letter, Quinquagesimo ante anno, Dec. 23, 1929; Allocution, Tous les Ordres, Mar. 12, 1931; Plus XII, Encyclical Letter, Fulgens radiatur, Mar. 21, 1947; Apos-tolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950; Apostolic Letter, Postquam apOstolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 154; Allocution, Omnibus probe, Sept' 24, 1953; Encyclical Letter, Ecclesiae fastos, June 5, 1954; Apostolic Const., Series Sapientiae, May 31, 1956; Epistle, Sexto decirao revoluto, May 31, 1956; Epistle, Iam quintum expletur saeculum, Aug. 4, 1956; Radio Message, Lorsque Nous, Aug. 2, 1958; John XXIII, Allocution, Vos paterno animo, Sept. 25, 1959; Paul VI, Allocution, Quale salute, Oct. 24, 1964; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Ratio institu. tionis praesertim studiorum O.C.S.O., Nov. 27, 1959, Introd., par. 15-17: nos. 24, 76. Canon 30 Monks engaged in extending Christ's dominion through the apostolate must endeavor to maintain a solitude and silence in harmony with their vocation. NOTE: Here it is not a question of maintaining papal enclosure for monks who by their institute are dedicated to the external apostolate, but of keeping their monas-teries, according to the mind of Pope Paul VI (cf. Sources), as sanctuaries of prayer. SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chs. 4, 43, 66-67; Code of Canon Law, canons 597, 599, 605-606; Second Vatican Council, Dogmatic Const., on the Church, no. 44; Decree on the Renewal of Religious Life, nos. 16, 20; Pius XI, Epistle, Equidem verba, Mar. 21, 1924; Pius XII, Apostolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950; Apostolic .Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canons .140-142; En-cyclical Letter, Ecclesiae fastos, June 5, 1954; John XXIII, Allocution, Vos paterno animo, Sept. 25, 1959; Paul VI, Quale salute, Oct. 24, 1964. CHAPTER 2 EREMITI~AL LIFE Canon 31 Canonically a hermit is a monk withdrawn from the world, pursuing the anchoritic life, to attain complete openness to God in solitude, repose, and silence. Seeking the perfection of love through joyful, ready penance, and assiduous reading and prayer, he must not fail to have solicitude for the whole Church. NOTE: It is evident from tradition and clearly recognized in the Rule of St. Benedict that there are two kinds of monks: cenobites and anchorites or hermits. As there is a renaissance of eremitical life in the Western Church today, the revised Code must provide for it. SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chap. I; Second Vatican Council, Dogmatic Const. on the Church, no. 43; Decree on the Renewal of Religious Life, nos. 1, 5-7, 9; Pius XI, Apostolic Const., Umbratilem remotamque vitam, July 8, 1924; Encyclical Letter, Rerum Ecclesiae, Feb. 28, 1926; Epistle, Compertum est, June 5, 1927; Apostolic Const., Inter religiosos coetus, July 2, 1935; Pius xII, Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 313, par. 4; Allocutlon, Nous sommes heureux, Apr. 11, 1958. Canon 32 Four kinds of hermits are to be distinguished: 1. Monks who belong to an eremitical order. 2. Monks or religious who live in solitude while actu-ally remaining under their own superiors. 3. Those who are united in a certain manner in a ÷ + + Mona,tie Proposal VOLUMI: 23, 1967 39 ondlium Mona~ti~um REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS fraternity or laura, without forming a community or federation properly so called. 4. Finally,° those who,live a completely solitary life. NOTE: Because of their differing relationships with ec.~ clesiastical superiors, these four expressions of eremitical life ought to be distinguished. They each require a differ-ent canonical provision. An eremitical order would be almost totally ruled by its own proper constitutions ap-proved by the Apostolic See. SOURCES: Pius XI, Apostolic Const., Umbratilem re-motamque vitam, July 8, 1924; Epistle, Compertum est, June 5, 1927; Apostolic Const., Inter religiosos coetus, July 2, 1935. Canon 33 A monk or religious must obtain the permission of his immediate major superior to enter upon the eremitical life as it is defined in number 2 of the preceding canon. This superior may establish certain,no~rms to be observed by the hermit. After he has been duly tried, the superior may not recall him to community life without a serious cause. In the event of such a summons, the monk or re-ligious may appeal to the Apostolic See, his eremitical status remaining intact while the appeal is pending. NOTE: In conformity with the "principle of subsidiarity" the immediate :superior should and can better judge the suitability of his subject's withdrawing into solitude. After an adequate probation, the hermit should justly have some assurance that he may remain in his chbsen state. SOURCES: Rule of St. Benedict, chap. 1; Pius XI, Apos-tolic Const., Inter religiosos coetus, July 2, 1935. Canon 34 I. The canonical establishment of a fraternity or an association of hermits is reserved to the Apostolic See or the local ordinary. 2. Each member in such an association retains his own proper canonical status. Nevertheless all are subject to the local ordina~ry, ev~en by their vow of obedience if they have one, but the ordinary will habitually delegate his jurisdiction over them to a moderator" or spiritual father elected from the association. NOTE: It is highly recommended that hermits be united in a fraternity that they may give each other spiritual and material assistance. Such an association would require that someone function as moderator or father, and it is he who would be responsible before the Church for the good order of the fraternity . Canon 35 One who wishes ,to live a completely solitary life will not be considered canonically a hermit unless he receives the permission of the local ordinary. In this case the bishop, either personally or through another, must watch that the hermit faithfully lives the life he professes. NOTE: In order that a person be established in a canoni-cal state it is necessary that ecclesiastical authority act. This would ordinarily be the bishop, to whom the hermit, by reason of his status, would subject himself in a special manner. In this way false hermits can be distinguished from true ones. Canon 36 1. A professed monk or religious must have the per-mission of his immediate major superior to transfer to an eremitical association or undertake the solitary life. 2. Having obtained such permission, the monk or re-ligious remains bound by his vows and other obligations of his profession which are compatible with his new state, and though deprived of active and passive voice, he en-joys the spiritual privileges of his institute and may wear the habit. After a reasonable period of probation he can-not be recalled to the cloister against his will, nor may he return there without the superior's permission. 3. The preceding, with appropriate changes, is ap-plicable to members of societies without vows and secular institutes. NOTE: 1. Cf. note under canon 33. 2. This norm is almost identical with canon 639 of the present Code with the significant exception of re-taining the habit, because a life publicly consecrated to God is still being pursued. However, he can assume the habit of the eremitical association if it has one. 3. This is an application of canon 681 to a re-stored eremitic state. SOURCES: 1. Rule of St, Benedict, chap. 1; Pius XI, Apostolic Const., Inter religiosos coetus, July 2, 1935. 2. Code of Canon Law, canon 639; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Indults: Protocol Number 15112/65, Mar. 18, 1965; Protocol Number 1755/64, Afig. 8, 1966. 3. Code of Canon Law, canon 681; Second Vatican Council, Decree on the Renewal of Religious Life, no. 1. Canon 37 The ordinary may not require a hermit, priest or dea-con, to exercise the sacred ministry except in a particular case because of a serious, urgent need. NOTE: When the Church canonically approves the eremitic life, it should also secure its integrity. SOURCES: Second Vatican Council, Decree on the Re-newal o[ Religious Life, nos. 7, 9, 20; Decree on the Pas-toral Office oI Bishops in the Chu.rch, no. 35. Monast~ Proposal VOLUME 26, 1967 41 + ÷ Consilium M onasticum REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Canon 58 1. For serious, external reasons, the ordinary can send a hermit who is a monk or religious to some religious house, or even, if the situation calls for it, reduce him to secular status. In this latter case the hermit must im-mediately put off the religious habit. The ordinary, how-ever, must immediately submit the matter to the judg-ment of the Holy See. 2. For the same reasons, a hermit who is neither a monk or religious can be evicted from his hermitage by the ordinary. He must then lay aside any distinctive garb. For serious offenses proportionate penalties can be imposed according tO t'he norms of law. NOTE: This provision applies the norms of canons 653 and 668 of the present Code to the eremitical state. SOURCES: Code of Canon Law, canons 653, 668. CHAPTER INTEGRAL CONTEMPLATIVE LIFE Canon 39 However pressing the needs of the active apostolate may be, institutes of men and women which are wholly ordered to contemplation always retain their role in the Mystical Body of Christ. Their members should occnpy themselves with God alone, in solitude and silence, in constant, devoted prayer and joyful, ready penitence. NOTE: All monks live a contemplative life, but according to particular traditions, in varying degrees many also en-gage in an active apostolate. The approved constitutions of individual monastic institutes determine the external apostolate or specify the institute as wholly ordered to the integral contemplative life. SOURCES: Second Vatican Council, Dogmatic Const. on the Church, nos. 44, 46; Decree on the Renewal of Re-ligious Life, nos. 7, 9; Decree on the Mission Activity of the Church, nos. 18, 40; Plus XI, Epistle, Non sine animi, May 28, 1923; Apostolic Const., Umbratilem remotamque vitam, July 8, 1924; Apostolic Letter, Monachorum vita, Jan. 26, 1925; Encyclical Letter, Rerum Ecc.lesiae, Feb. 28, 1926; Epistle, Compertum est, June 5, 1927; Pius XII, Epistle, Quemadmodum Decessor Noster, Nov. 4, 1941; Encyclical Letter, Mystici Corporis, June 29, 1943; Apos-tolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950: General Stat-utes, art. II, par. 2; Allocution, Annus sacer, Dec. 8, 1950; Encyclical Letter, Sacra virginitas, Mar. 25, 1954; Epistle, Iam quintum' expletur saeculum, Aug. 4, 1956; Allocution, Nous sommes heureux, Apr. 11, 1958; Radio Message, Cddant volontiers, July 19, 1958; Radio Message, Si Nous avons, July 26, 1958; Radio Message, Lorsque Nous, Aug. 2, 1958; John XXIII, Allocution, Notre joie, Oct. 20, 1960; Epistle, Recens ate, Oct. 20, 1960; Allocution, Gli innumerevoli ceri, Feb. 2, 1961; Epistle, Il tempio massimo, July 2, 1962; nos. I, III; Epistle, Causa praeclara, July 16, 1962; Allocution, C'est ti Rome, Sept. 1, 1962; Paul VI, Allocution, Quale salute, Oct. 24, 1964; Sacred Congrega-tion for Religious, Ratio institutionis praesertim studi-orum O.C.S.O., Nov. 27, 1959, no. 74; Secred Congrega-tion of Rites, Decree of Feb. 18, 1934; Decree of Apr. 20, 1943; Secretary of State, Epistle of June 5, 1952. Canon 40 1. The contemplative life excludes participation in the external apostolate outside the strict limits of the monas-tery, except in cases where it is truly necessary, and then for a limited time only, concerning which things the abbot is to be the prudent judge. 2. Nevertheless, priests of the order can fittingly fulfill the office of confessor or chaplain among their own nuns. 3. Outside these cases the ordinary of the place may not call upon them to exercise external ministry, so that they might easily be able to effectively fulfill their proper mission toward the whole Church. NOTE: 1. Some ministry is necessary within the monas-tery, some monks being appointed to serve their brethren, others to satisfy the need~ of ~uests and visitors. But it must always and everywhere be evident that the contem-plative life is the first and principal end of the monastery. Therefore the ~ninistry of contemplatives must be of such a nature and so tempered as to place, time, mode, and manner, that a truly and solidly contemplative life, both for the community as a whole and for the individual monks, is preserved and.constant!y nourished and strength-ened. 2. This is necessary so that the nuns can receive a formation truly in harmony with the spirit of the institute. This duty of engendering and nourishing the spirit of the order should not impede but rather enkindle the contemplative life of the chaplain and confessor. 3. Because members of exclusively contemplative institutes are to participate in the pastoral office of the bishops in the Church by their witness of an evangelical life of prayer and penance, they need to be exempted from the active works of the diocese. SOURCES: Second Vatican Council, Decree on the Re-newal of Religious Life, nos. 7, 9, 20; Decree on the Pas-toral Office of Bishops in the Church, nos. 35; Plus XI, Apostolic Const., Umbratilem remotamque vitam, July 8, 1924; Pius XII, Apostolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950: General Statutes, art. IX, par. 2, no. 2; Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canon 154, par. 1; Radio Message, Lorsque Nous, Aug. 2, 1958; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Epistle to the Apostolic Nuncios, Mar. 7, 1951; Decree for the Order of Reformed Cistercians, June 27, 1956; Ratio institutionis praesertim studiorum O.S.C.O., Nov. 27, 1959, Introd., pa~. 17; no. 76, par. 2. 2. Pius XII, Radio Message, Cddant volon-tiers, July 19, 1958; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Epistle to the Apostolic Nuncios, Mar. 7, 1951; Ratio ÷ ÷ ÷ Monasti~ Prtr'posal VOLUME 26, 1967 4. 4. 4. Consilium Monasticum REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS institutionis praesertim studiorum O.C.S.O., Nov. 27, 1959, Introd., par. 24; no. 76, par. 2. 3. Second Vatican Council, Dogmatic Const. on the Church, no. 46; Decree on the Renewal o[ Religious Li[e, nos. 7, 9; Decree on the Pastoral Office o[ Bishops in the Church, no. 35; Decree on the Mission Activity o] the Church, nos. 18, 40; Pius XI, Apostolic Const., Umbratilem remotamque vitam, July 8, 1924; Apostolic Letter, Monachorum vita, Jan. 26, 1925; Encyclical Letter, Rerum Ecclesiae, Feb. 28, 1926; Pius XII, Apostolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950: General Statutes, art. IX, par. 2, no, 2; Radio Message, Lorsque Nous, Aug. 2, 1958; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Decree [or the Order o[ Re[ormed Cistercians, June 27, 1956. Canon 41 1. To preserve recollection and monastic peace, a stricter enclosure should be carefully maintained in all monasteries which profess the integral contemplative life. 2. Abbots must see to the faithful observance of the constitutions in regard to travel and visits. NOTE: 1. In exclusively contemplative monasteries of monks and nuns, papal enclosure should be maintained but, with the consultation of the monasteries, it should be adapted to time and place, abrogating the obsolete and the automatic censures ~[or a breach of enclosure. 2. This is the present law; but fittingly broadened so that an abbot, and by equal right an abbess, for serious reasons may admit visitors of both sexes into the enclosure. SOURCES: 1. Code of Canon Law, canon 1291; Second Vatican Council; Decree on the Renewal o[ Religious Life, nos. 7, 16; Plus XI, Apostolic Const., Umbratilem remotamque vitam, July 8, 1924; Apostolic Letter, Mona-chorum vita, Jan. 26, 1925; Plus xII, Apostolic Const., Sponsa Christi, Nov. 21, 1950: General Statutes~ art. IV, par. 2; Sacred Congregation for Religious, Instruction, nter praeclara, Nov. 23, 1950; Decree [or the Order of Re[ormed Cistercians, June 27, 1956; Ratio institutionis praesertim stt~diorum O.C.S.O., Nov. 27, 1959, no. 73. 2. Code of Canon Law, canon 606, par. 1; Plus XII, Apostolic Letter, Postquam apostolicis, Feb. 9, 1952, canons 141, 144. Canon 42 l. In institutes of the integral contemplative life, priestly training ought to conform to the norms of com-mon law as adapted to the contemplative life by their own approved programs of study. 2. If a monk-priest transfers from the contemplative life to the active ministry he should.undergo a period of practical pastoral training. NOTE: Pastoral formation should prepare priests to worthily fulfill their various apostolic duties as the Church desires and their institute requires by its nature and end. For this reason students in exclusively contemplative monasteries ordinarily are not trained in parochial prac-tices but in those duties to which the abbot might assign them. Hence it is good to require additional practical pastoral formation for one transferring. SOURCES: 1. Pius XlI, Apostolic Const., Sedes Sapien-tiae, May 31, 1956; Sacred Congregation for Religious, General Statutes, July 7, 1956, art. 19; Ratio institutioni~ praesertim studiorum O.C.S.O., Nov. 27, 1959, Introd., par. 14-17; no. 76. 2. Second Vatican Council, Decree on Priestly Formation, no. 19; Plus X!I, Apostolic Const., Sedes Sapientiae, May 31, 1956; Paul VI, Allocution, Magno gaudio, May 23, 1964. + + + Monastic Proposal VOLUME 26, 1967 45 PATRICK GRANFIELD An Interview with Abbot Butler Patrick Granfield is professor of the-ology at Catholic University and a monk of St. An-selm's Abbey; 19th and South Dakota Ave. N.E.; Wash-ington, D.C. 20017. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 Interviewer:* In Rome, at the end of the Council, you said in a public address that the Decree on the Adaptation and Renewal of the Religious Life was a summons to revolution. What did you mean by that? Abbot Butler: The Decree, of course, considers the religious life in the light of the aggiornamento in gen-eral. It spells out the meaning of the word aggiorna-. mento by talking about adapted renovation of religious life. It takes the criteria for adaptation, I think, from the notion of renovation. When it gets back to what it means by renovation, it appears that this means re-covering the spirit in which the founder of your re-ligious institute created the body to which you belong. There is stated, or could very easily be evoked from the document, the distinction between the spirit and pur-poses of the founder's creation and the actual contingent form into which he put it. As I see the meaning of the document, religious are entitled to regard as contingent and expendable not only all the accretions which have been added to the founder's original institution, but even the contingent forms in which he expressed his spirit. Religious are to try to reexpress that spirit in forms which 'are relevant and contemporary. Interviewer: Is that revolution? /lbbot Butler: Technically, it's not revolution, be-cause it's a question of going back to primal sources. But the practical consequences will look very much like revolution, if we. take this seriously, and accept with both hands the invitation that has been offered us by the Church. Interviewer: Perhaps a more fundamental question deals with the desirability of religious life. Do you ¯ This interview will form one chapter in a book of interviews called Theologians at Wor~ to be published by Macmillan during 1967. think that there is any place for religious life in the changing Church? Abbot Butler: It is a little difficult for me to give a revolutionary answer to that question since I was one, in a general way at least as a Council father, who passed the constitution, De Ecclesia. As you know De Ecclesia has consecrated a chapter to the religious life and seemed to give a kind of rationale of it. I feel that that limits one a little here. However, I can say that since religious life has been such a featnre of the life of the Church virtually speaking throughout the ages~ certainly you get that idea from St. Cyprian in the third century writing his treatise on virgins and the virgins of that time were the forerunners of religious life as we know it--that I think it would be very difficult to say that the religious life has no more than a merely transi-tory and passing value in the Church for a particular age. What I think is much more difficult, even after having decided that one has to find room for the re-ligious life in the Church, even in the aggiornamento Church, is to find a rationale for it. In recent discus-sions these difficulties have been accentuated. I had always thought that I knew more or less what the re-ligious life was, although I was rather doubtful how I would give a definition of monasticism as a species of religious life. However, after these discussions I came away feeling completely agnostic about the definition of religious life altogether. Interviewer: What of the suggestion placing religious life between the lay state and the clerical state? Abbot Butler: You cannot locate it in this way. You are applying the wrong criteria if you try to find a place for it between sacred orders and the lay state. Obviously, the vocation to religious life appears to come to men whether they are lay or sacerdotal. Or supposing that they are laymen at the time, it may come along with a vocation to the sacerdotal state. It seems to me that it has to be seen more in the charismatic order than in the sacramental order. There is a sacramental distinction between the clergy and the laity. But the religious life, although it sounds rather paradoxical to put it like this, is a kind of institutionalized charism. Interviewer: Who, then, is a religious? Abbot Butler: A religious is a person who has become aware of and has responded to a more special invitation from God to take Christianity at its maximal signifi-cance, instead of trying to get past with the minimal interpretation. Then, having seen and responding to it, he has wished to safeguard himself against future temp-tations to relapse on the minimizing basis of things by + + Abbot Butler VOLU~E 26, ].967 ÷ ÷ ÷ Patrick Granfield REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 48 committing himself for the future, as well as for the moment, by vows. Interviewer: It seems that you are implying that the lay person is not committed to the maximal exercise of Christianity. Abbot Butler: I think all Christians are called to it, but what makes a bit of difference with religious is that he has become in some special way conscious of that vocation. He has apprehended it as something that appertains to him personally. He has wished to make a response to it and he has desired to commit himself to it by an engagement, which helps keep him from any failure. Interviewer: How is the religious any different from the dedicated Christian who, conscious of his baptismal character, makes every effort to grow in the love of God? Abbot Butler: Leaving aside the question of the pub-lic nature of the religious vocations in the Church, I agree that both have become conscious.of the call to holiness and both of them have willed to make apposite responses. But the religious has added the feature of dedication, 'by which he commits himself for the future. Now~ if anybody does that, whether or not he plays a role in the public life of the Church as a religious, he is dedicated basically in. the same way as a religious pro-vided he has committed himself to the future. ,Interviewer: What do you think about the traditional way of speaking of the religious life as a state of per-fection? Abbot B~ttler: The term comes out of a world of discourse that is so 'alien to us these days that it is more misleading than helpful. Interviewer: Do you think it is theologically inac-curate? Abbot Butler: I suspect that if you take it in its full theological depth, it meant for the medieval people who invented this way of talking much the same sort of thing that I mean by the engagement of oneself for the future in a maximal practice of Christianity. This is what the status pkrfectionis means. Interviewer: How do you relate this to the monastic state? Abbot Btttler: It is difficult enough to settle on what one means by a religious, but it's more difficult to decide what one means by a monk. If you look the world over yo.u.find an extraordinary variety of interpretations of Wtiat monasticism means. This is not merely a modern phenomenon; other ages had a similar problem. This is partly due to the fact that monasticism grew up almost spontaneously in an age which had not developed a con-ceptualized theology. If is rhther like--if I may use an analogy---comparing the British Constitution with the American Constitution. The British Constitution is, practically speaking, undefinable because it is the result of gradual growth. It goes back to periods long before men reflected scientifically on their experiences and their intentions. Whereas the American Constitution came from a highly sophisticated age and was a written con-stitution from the first. Therefore you might compare the Society of Jesus with the American Constitution, since both came from a sophisticated, time and were able to define themselves at the moment they came into origin. But monasticism just grew in the Church. It is extremely difficult to look back and to decide what was the basic and not merely the accidental structure. I was talking about this p,roblem very recently with Canon Charles Moeller. He said that one of his theology professors, who had spent a lifetime studying the fathers of the desert and early monasticism, told him that noth-ing is more difficult than to elucidate the historical origins and theological basis of monasticism. Interviewer: What are your own observations on the nature of monasticism? Abbot Butler: Yes, to return to your question. In Rome, I think it was at the end of the second session, a group of us got together to discuss this question. Some were already a bit frightened about certain proposed changes in canon law that applied to monks. Someone suggested that the formal object of the monastic voca-tion was simple vacate Deo--to have time for God, to be open to God. Other orders and congregations in the Church have specific work, particular ways in which they serve God. But the whole point about monasticism is that there is no special way. It is just vacate Deo-- dedication to God in and for Himself. Interviewer: Do you agree with that explanation? Abbot Butler: Well, I thought it was rather good until the abbot president of a missionary monastic group said: "Well, if that is monasticism, then we are not monks." Another view was given by the Abbot of Montserrat who said that the thing that really makes a monk is the special place he gives to lectio divina--prayer in the wide sense. He explained that while the monk does work like anybody else, what makes him a monk is the "Work of God," the Opus Dei, the official public recitation of the Divine Office. The Rule of St. Benedict supports this and gives great emphasis to lectio divina. It is this dedication to a kind of meditative absorption of the whole Christian spiritual tradition in lectio divina which constitutes the specificity of the monk. Whether that's the case or not, I don't know, but it's the latest suggestions that I've heard of a positive kind. 4- 4- 4- Abbot Butler VOLUME 26, 1967 ,t9 ÷ ÷ ÷ Patrick Granfield REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 50 Interviewer: One frequently hears the criticism that the monastic state is a great waste of talent, time, and effort, a kind of religious escapism from the needs and responsibilities of the world. Abbot Bulter: Yes, this is often heard. One answer can be found in the Constitution of the Church which says that the religious life is a witness to the transcen-dental claims of Christianity, It says that the religious life "not only witnesses to the fact of a new and eternal life acquired by the redemption of Christ," but it "foretells the resurrected state and the glory of the heavenly kingdom." The same document insists that the religious life can be of great advantage to the salvific mission of the Church. Interviewer: Hasn't the time come for immediate re-newal of the religious life? Abbot Butler: I think it is a time for drastic measures. I think that most certainly. One of the things that really rather upset me at the Council was that when-ever the question of religious came up, there was an extreme supersensitiveness on the part of some religious superiors of whom of course I am one. They seemed to have an esprit de corps that was almost neurotic. I felt that they were consistently refusing even to make the effort to get down to the theological depths of the problem. They were continually taking refuge behind canon law. One of the first things we have to do is to delegalize the whole thing. We have to get down to the theological view and leave aside the legalistic view. Interviewer: How do you explain this sheltering be-hind canon law? Abbot Butler: I am not sure how to explain it. I suspect that it indicates a fear of the action of the local hierarchy or the local bishop. For the older orders, of course, the obvious defense against the bishop is ex-emption. But exemption is a pure invention of canon law. The bias that some religious show to canon law distorts the true picture of things. We also have to get behind some of the second-rate theologizing of what we used to call the scholastic tradi-tion. I am becoming extremely skeptical about the old divisions that we've been used to, the distinctions be-tween the active and contemplative life and the mixed life. I don't believe that that has any deep roots in tradition. If you study the fathers, you will discover that they meant something different by the active and contemplative life than the scholastic theologians. Interviewer: Do you have any practical suggestions on how monastic life might be renewed? Abbott Butler: There is a tremendous amount of "clearing of the decks" to be done. To get down to particulars, we should begin with the Divine Office which plays such a prominent part in our lives. For nearly all monks today the articulation of the daily Office into eight separate hours is no longer authentic. It no longer corresponds to a vital need. It was done in St. Benedict's time when they followed the seasons of the year and the hours of the sun and lived in a rural community. A much more meaningful way of dividing up the Office for us would be to take a leaf out of the Constitution on the Liturgy and to see Lauds and Vespers as the two hinges on which the whole Office revolves. That way you have a morning and an evening Office and you can add something in the way of a "Little Hour" at mid-day. Besides that I think that we need a solid block of prayer with the Psalms and lectio divina which could be put at any'convenient hour. This type of articulation rings much truer. Interviewer: The younger .generation would agree with that. Abbot Butler: I am very interested in the younger generation, although I don't pretend to understand it. It would be absurd for anybody of my age to pretend to. I do seem to glimpse certain ~ things about, them and I think that they have a horror, which I can respect as I understand it, for anything .that is phony--anything that is hypocritical, unauthentic. They feel that we are preserving the present structure of 'the monastic Office just for the sake of preserving: For them the present articulation of the Office doesn't make sense. They almost shriek with repulsion when~ for instance, we say Sext and None in one full swoop and start off twice in the course of ten minutes with Deus in adiutorium meum intende, which is obviously, the 'beginning of,a new time of prayer. It's like bad music to them. Some-thing should be done about this, Interviewer: Do you think that the. Psalms are still authentic vehicles of prayer? Abbot Butler: The Psalms, I feel (and perhaps I'm a bit old-fashioned about it), are the inspired prayer-book of the Church and they have a permanent value. They are so remote that they are easier to universalize and to apply to new situations than some modern prayers would prove to be. Interviewer: What of the readings from the fathers? Abbot Butler: This is something else. I agree that 'the fathers for the most part are not helpful. Perhaps better selections could be found. Let us take, for example, the Homilies in our Office ~hich are supposed to be the exegesis for the Scripture of the day. Now if there is one thing that is quite clear about the fathers, it is that their exegesis was nearly always wrongly,It's one of the 4. 4. 4. Abbot Butler VOLUME 26, !967 ÷ ÷ Patrick Granfield REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 52 most remarkable things about the fathers, I don't know why the strict conservative who thinks that tradition is an independent channel of preserving revelation hasn't insisted more on this point. The early fathers always get the right results by the wrong exegetical method. Interviewer: The vow of stability, that unique Bene-dictine vow whereby one promises to live in a particular monastery, is being reexamined by the monks them-selves. I recently met a monk who justified his nearly two hundred days of absence from the monastery in one year' by the argument that the essential part of the vow of stability is the stability of the heart or loyalty and not merely the geographic stability of place. What are your thoughts on stability? Abbot Butler: Lord Walsingham, foreign diplomat in the reign of Elizabeth I, used to describe his job as being to lie abroad in the service of her majesty. I think that the formal element in stability is the sta-bilitas cordis stability of the heart. Now we are get-ting down very near the basic roots of the monastic problem. Monasticism had its genesis in an entirely different cultural background from what we are grow-ing into at the present day. Stability meant a great deal more and had a great deal more positive value in those days than it has today. It meant that you grew into a total 'local environment which was only doing rather better and more deliberately what everybody tended to do in those days. There wasn't much instability in the life of the ordinary person. Today we live in a world where the horizons are so widened and the socialization has become such, that the old idea of local stability does not have the same role to play in monasticism as it used to. I say this with great.hesitation, because I am con-vinced that local stability has an obvious value. It makes the stabilitas cordis not merely a kind of pious velleity but a positive incarnational thing. As men, we do form a concrete, human family in our local monas-tery and we interact on one another directly in a very obvious way. It could be that because the world is going so socialized and so universalized that it needs a counter-poise that monasticism offers. Interviewer: You don:t feel that the uniqueness of Benedictine monasticism is in jeopardy if a liberal view of stability is adapted?. Abbot Butler: What is most specific in monasticism, compared with other forms of religious life in the Church, is allegiance to the local abbot. In orders like the Dominicans or Franciscans°your allegiance would be to a superior who rules thousands of people all over the world. He is a remote figure and few of his subjects have any contact with him. Even if a Benedictine spends half a year outside the monastery he does know his abbot personally and has a personal link with the other brethren in the monastery. This does make a great difference. Interviewer: On the other hand, the Dominicans, Franciscans, or Jesuits also have their local superior and they live in a community structure. While it's true that monasticism insists more on the communitarian aspect of life, can it still do so if it accepts a very wide view of stability which does not stress the local aspect--the permanence in a particular place? Abbot Butler: It is very difficult to conceptualize such things. But in my own abbey, for instance, we have a certain number of parishes where the monks are in charge and they spend years outside the monastery. I feel that the relationships between the monks on the distant parishes and his abbot are of a different human quality from the relations .between a friar and his local superior. Apart from the pope there is no higher supe-rior for a monk than his abbot. Interviewer: Declericalization is a primary goal in the present religious renewal. How does this apply practi-cally to monasticism? Abbot Butler: The separation in monastic life be-tween the clerical family and the lay brotherhood is in itself an absolutely outrageous thingl Here we must get back to the spirit of the founder. If there is one thing about which I am absolutely certain it is that St. Benedict conceived of monastic life as a way of being a Christian, not a way of being a priest. You might be a priest as well, but it is accidental to your monastic vocation. The present state of things in monasticism in the West is a bit of a scandal. It almost amounts to a dictation to the Holy Ghost. You tell the Holy Ghost that He may not give a full monastic vocation to any-body unless he couples it with a quite different thing, which is a sacerdotal vocation. Interviewer: Historically the tendency to clericalize goes back to the eighth or ninth century. Abbot Butler: It did begin as early as that, but I think that the monstrosity of the lay brother probably came in about the end of the eleventh century or the beginning of the twelfth. In a legalized form it was a Cistercian invention. It is helpful to remember that we do belong to the Catholic Church and that Eastern monasticism has never fallen into this awful abyss. Interviewer: Let us change the subject to theology. As an Englishman and a theologian, do you think that modern theology has successfully answered the challenge put forth by linguistic analysis? Abbot Butler: No. ÷ + ÷ Abbot Butler VOLUME 26, 1967 53 ÷ ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 54 Interviewer: Do you think theology has a duty to answer? 'Abbot Butler: Yes, there is a duty. I would like to preface my remarks by saying that I am not a pro-fessional philosopher. I am inclined to think that lin-guistic analysis is a rather provincial phenomenon and a rather transitory stage in the total history of philosophy. It will probably have done some good in much the same way as the Greek Sophists, in forc.ing men to be careful in their use of language and to reflect upon their use of language. In toto, linguistic analysis is not too impor-tant, but in the actual situation it happens to be im-portant because it controls a great deal of the higher culture of the West in its more sophisticated side. I don't think that we hav

Issue 43.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1984. ; Pliz~hhihg :the N~Vitiate Process = °~i"~ !~ta~D o"es a Religious Institute Owe Its Members? :,~-~:: A Retreat for the Eighties Volume 43 Number 4 July/August, 1984 RE\'~w FOR Rl~.~(;~otJs ( ISSN 0034-639X). published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. I.ouis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis. MO 63108. Rt-:v~l-:w t:oR Rl~t.l~;~otJs is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus. St. Louis. MO. © 1984 by Rl~v~l~w ~:OR Rl~l.l~;~Ot~S, Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. I.ouis. MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per ycar (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write Rl-:Vll.:W ~-oR R~.:t.t~;~otls: 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. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July/August, 1984 Volume 43 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be senl to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW I-'OR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprinls are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Redemptionis Donum: An Expression of Love for Religious John Paul H In his letter of April 3, 1983, to the bishops of the United States inviting them "to render special pastoral service to the religious" of their dioceses and country, Pope John Paul wrote: ". as pastors of the Church, w~ must proclaim over and over again that the vocation to religious life God gives is linked to his personal love for each and every religious." Redemptionis'Donum is a solemn instance of his own efforts to do just that. As such, it forms a fitting cap to the series of articles REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS has been publishing in recent issu.es in support of.this episcopal ministry to religious. The text which follows is taken from Origins, April 12, 1984, vol. 13: no. 44. Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ Jesus: 1. The gift of the redemption, which this extraordinary Jubilee Year emphasizes, brings with it a particular call to conversion and reconciliation with God in Jesus Christ. While the outward reason for this extraordinary jubilee is of a historical nature--for what is being celebrated is the 1,950th Anniversary of the Crucifixion and Resurrection--at the same time it is the interior motive that is dominant, the motive that is connected with the very depth of the Mystery of the Redemption. The Church was born from that mystery, and it is by that mystery that she lives thrrughout her history. The period of the extraordinary jubilee has an .exceptional character. The call to conversion and reconciliation with God means that we must meditate more deeply on our life and our Christian vocationqn the light of the Mystery of the Redemption, in order to fix that lift and vocation ever more firmly in that mystery. While this call concerns everyone in the Church, in a special way it con-cerns you, men and women religious, who, in your consecration to God through the vows of the evangelical counsels, strive toward a particular fullness of Christian life. Your special Vocation, and the whole of your life in the 481 41~2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 Church and the world, take their character and their spiritual power from the same depth of the Mystery of Redemption. By following Christ along the "narrow and., hard" way,~ you experience in an extraordinary manner how true it is that "with him is plenteous redemption" (copiosa apud eum redempti.o)? 2. Therefore, as this Holy Year moves toward its close, 1 wish to address myself in a particular way to all of you, men and women religious, who are entirely consecrated to contemplation or vowed to the various works of the apostolate. I have already done so in numerous places and on various occasions, confirming and extending the evangelical teaching contained in the whole of the Church's tradition, especially in the magisterium of the recent ecumenical council, from the dogmatic constitution ~Lumen Gentium to the decree Perfec-tae Caritatis, in the spirit of the indications of the apostolic exhortation Evan-gelica Testificatio of my predecessor Paul VI. The Code of Canon Law, which recently came into force and which can in a way be considered the final conciliar document, will be for all of you a valuable aid and a sure guide in concretely stating the means for faithfully and generously living your magnificent vocation in the Church. 1 greet you with the affection of the Bishop of Rome and Successor of St. Peter, with whom your communities are united in a characteristic way. From the same See of Rome there also reach you, with an unceasing echo, the words of St. Paul: "I betrothed you to Christ, to present you as a pure.bride to her one husband.'~ The Church, which receives, after the apostles, the treasure of marriage to the divine Spouse, looks with the greatest love toward all her sons and daugh-ters who, by the profession of the evangelical counsels and through her .own mediation, have made a special covenant with the Redeemer of the World. Accept this word of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption precisely as a word of love~ spoken by the Ch'urch for you. Accept it, wherever you may be: in the cloister, of the contemplative communities or in the commitment to the many different forms of apostolic service--in the missions, in pastoral work, in hospita!~s or other places where the suffering are served, in educational institu-tions: schools or Universities--in fact in every one of your houses where, "gathered in the name of Christ," you live in the knowledge that the Lord is "in your midst.TM May the Church's loxiing word, addressed to you in the Jubilee of the Redemption, be the reflection of that loving word that Christ himself said to each one of you when he spoke one day that mysterious "follow me"~ fxom which your vocation in the Church began. Vocation And Jesus, Looking Upon Him, Loved Him 3. "Jesus, looking upon him, loved himTM and said to him, "If you would Redemptionis Donum / 48:3 be perfect, go, sell what you have, and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.'n Even though we know that those words addressed to the rich young man were not accepted by the one being called, their content deserves to b~ carefully reflected upon, for they present the interior structure of a vocation. "And 3esus,~looking upon him, loved him." This is the love of the Redeemer: a love that flows from all the human and divine depths of the redemption. This love reflects the eternal love of the Father who "so loved the World that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.TM ,~ The Son, invested with that love, accepted the mission from the Father .in the Holy Spirit, and became the Redeemer of the World. The Father's love was revealed in the Son as a redeeming love. It is precisely this love that constitutes the true price of the redemption of man and of the world. Christ:s apostles speak of the price of the redemption with profound emotion: "You were ransomed., not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot," writes St. Peter.9 And St. Paul states: "You were bought with a price."'° The call to the way of the evangelical counsels springs from the interior encounter with the love~ of Christ which is a redeeming love. Christ calls precisely through this love of his. In the structure of a vocation, the encounter with ,this love becomes ,something specifically personal. When Christ "looked upon you and loved you," calling each one of you, dear religious, that redeem-ing love of his was directed toward a particular person, and at the same time, it took on a spousal character: it became a love of choice. This love embraces the whole person, soul and body, whether man or woman, in that person's unique and unrepeatable, personal "1." The one who, given eternally to the Father, "gives" himself in the Mystery of the Redemp-tion, has now called a human person in order that he or she, in turn, should give himself or herself entirely to the work of the redemption through member-ship in a community of brothers or sisters, recognized and approved by the Church. Surely it is precisely to this call that St. Paul's words can be applied: "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit.? You are not your own; you were bought with a price."~ Y~es, Christ's love has reached each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, with that same "price" of the redemption. As a consequence of this, you have realized that you are not your own, but you ~belong to Christ. This ,new awareness was the fruit of Christ's "loving look" into the secret place of your heart. You replied to that look by choosing him who first chose each one of you, calling you with the measurelessness of his. redeeming love. Since he calls "by name," his call always appeals to human freedom. Christ says: "If you wish . "And the response to this call i§, therefore, a free choice. You have chosen Jesus of Nazareth, Redeemer of the World, by choosing the way that he has shown you. tll~4 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 If You Wish to .Be Perfect. 4. This way is also called the, way of perfection. Speaking to the young man, Christ says: "If you wish to be perfect . "Thus theidea of the "way of perfection" has its motivation in the very Gospel source itself. Moreover, do we not hear, in the Sermon on the Mount: "You, therefore, must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect"?.~2 The calling of man to perfection was perceived in a certain way by the thinkers and moralists of the ancient world, and also afterward, at different periods of history. But the biblical call has a completely original nature. It is particularly demanding when it indicates to man perfection in the likeness of God °himself.~3 Precisely in this form; the call corresponds to the whole of the internal logic of revelation, according to which man was created in the image and likeness of God himself. He must therefore seek the perfection proper to him in the line of this image and likeness. As St. Paul will write in the Letter to the Ephesians: "Therefore be imitators of God as beloved children. And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself upfor us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God."~4 Thus the call to perfection belongs to the very essence of the Christian vocation. It is on the basis of this call that we must also understand the words which Christ 'addressed to the young man in the Gospel. These words are in a particular way linked to the mystery of the redemp-tion of man in the world~ For this redemption gives back to God the work of creation which had been contaminated by sin--showing the perfection which the whole of creation, and in particular man, possesses in the thought and intention of God himself. Especially man must be given and restored to God if heis to be fully restored to himself. From this comes the eternal call: "Return to me, for I have redeemed you.''15 Christ's words, "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have, and give to the poor" clearly brings us into the sphere of the evangelical counsel of poverty--which belongs to the very essence of the religious vocation and profession. At the same time, these words can,be understoodin a wider and, in sense, an essential way. The Teacher from Nazareth invites the person he is address-ing to renounce a program of life in which the first place is seen to be occupied by the category of possessing, of "h'aving," and to accept in its place a program centered upon the value of the human person, upon personal "being"---with all the transcendence that is proper to it. Such an understanding of Christ's words constitutes, as it were, a wider setting for the ideal of evangelical poverty, especially that poverty which, as an evangelical counsel, belongs to the essential content of your mystical marriage with the divine Spouse in the Church. Reading Christ's words in the light of the superiority of "being" over "having," especially if the latter is understobd in a materialistic and utilitarian Redemptionis Donum / 485 sense, we, as it were, touch the very anthropologial bases of vocation in the Gospel. In .the framework of the development of contemporary civilization, this is a particularly relevant discovery. And for this reason, the very vocation to "the way of perfection" as laid down. by Christ becomes equally relevant. In today's civilization, especially in the context of the world of a well-being that is based on consumerism, man bitterly experi¢nces the essential incom-pleteness of personal "being" which affects his humanity because of the abund-antand various forms of "having." He then becomes more inclined to accept this truth about vocation which was expressed once and for all in the Gospel. Yes, the call which you, dear Brothers and Sisters, accepted when you set out on the way of religious profession touches upon the very roots of human-ity, the roots of man's destiny in the temporal world. The evangelical "state of perfection'~ does not cut you off from these roots. On the contrary, it enables you to anchor yourselves even more firmly ih the elements that make man man, permeating this humanity which, in various ways, is burdened by sin, with the divine and human leaven of the Mystery of Redemption. You Will Have Treasure in Heaven " Vocation carries with it th6 answer to the question: Why be a human person--and how? This answer adds a new dimension to the whole of life and establishes its definitive meaning. This meaning emerges against the back-grou'nd of the Gospel paradox of losing one's life in order to save it--and on the other hand, saving one's life by losing it "for Christ's sake and for the sake of the Gospel," as we read in Mark.t6 In the light of these words Christ's call becomes perfectly clear: "Go, sell what you possess ~nd give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.''t7 Between this "go" and the subsequent "come, follow me'; there is a close connection. It can be said that these latter words determine the very essence of a vocation. For a vocation is a matter of following the footsteps of Christ (sequi: to follow, hence sequela Christi). The terms "go. sell.' give" seem to lay down the precondition of a vocation. Nevertheless, this condition is not "external" to a vocation, but is already inside it. For a person, discovers the new sense of his or her humanity, not only in order "to follow" Christ, but to the extent that he or she actually does follow him. When a person does "sell what he possesses" and "gives it to the poor," he discovers that those possessions, and the comforts he enjoyed, were not the treasure to hold on to. That treasure is in his heart, which Christ makes him capable of"giving" to others b~y the giving of self. The rich person is not the one who possesses, but the one who "gives," the one who is capable of giving. At this point tile Gospel paradox becomes particularly expressive. It becomes a program of being. To be poor in the sense given to this "being" by 4116 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 the Teacher from Nazareth is to become a dispenser of good through one's own human condition. This also means to discover "the treasure." This treasure is indestructible. It passes, together with man, into the dimension of the eternal. It belongs to the divine eschatology of man. Through this treasure man has his definitive future in God. Christ says: "You will have treasuie in.heaven." This treasure is not so much a "reward" after death for the good works done following the example of the Divine Teacher, but rather the eschatological fulfillment of what was liidden in these good works here on earth, in the inner "treasure" of the heart. Christ himself, in fact, when he invited his hearers, in the Sermon on the Mount, ~s to store up treasure in heaven, added: "For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."~9 These words indicate the eschatological character of the Christian vocation. They indicate even more the eschatological nature of the vocation that is realized through spiritual marriage to Christ by the practice of the evangelical counsels. 6. The structure of this vocation, as seen from the Words addressed to the young man in the synoptic gospels,20 is traced little by little as one discovers the fundamental treasure of one's own humanity in the perspective of that "trea-sure" which man "has in heaven." In this perspective, the fundamental treasure of one's own humanity is connected to the fact of "being, by giving oneself." The direct point of reference in such a vocation is the living person of Jesus Christ. The call to ~the way of perfection takes shape from him, and through him in the Holy Spirit who continually "recalls" to new people, men~and women--at different times of their lives, but especially in their youth--all that Christ "has saidTM and especially what he "said" to the yo.ung man who asked him: "Teacher, what good deed must ! do to h~ve eternal life?"~2 Throughthe reply of Christ, who "looks upon" his questioner "with love," the strong leaven of the Mystery of the Redemption penetrates the consciousness~, heart and will of one who is searching with truth and sincerity. Thus the call to the way of the evangelical counsels always has its begin-ning in God: "You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you that you should go and bear fruit and that your fruit should abide."~3 The vocation in which a person discovers in depth.the evangelical law of giving, a law inscribed in human nature, is itself a gift. It is a gift overflowing with the deepest content of the Gospel, a gift which reflects the divine and human image of the Mystery of the Redemption. "In this is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be thb expiation for our sins.TM A "Fuller Expression"of Baptismdi Consecration 7. Your vocation, dear Brothers and Sisters, has led you to religious pro-fession, whereby you have been consecrated to God through the ministry of Redemptionis Donum / 487 the Church, arid tiave been at the same time incorporated into your religious family. Hence the Church thinks of you, above all, as persons who are "conse-crated": consecrated to God in Jesus Christ as his exclusive possession. This consecration determines your place in the vast community of the Church, the People of God. And at the same time, this consecration introduces into the universal mission of this people a special source of spiritual and supernatural energy: a particular style of life, witness and apostolate, in fidelity to the mission of your institute and.to its identity and spiritual heritage. The universal mission of the People of God is rooted in the messianic mission of Christ himself--prophet, priest and king--a mission in which all share in different ways. The form of sharing proper to "consecrated" persons corresponds to your manner of being rooted in Christ. The depth and power of this being rooted in Christ is decided precisely by religious profession. Religious p~ofession creates a new bond between the person and the one and triune God in Jesus Christ. This bond develops on the foundation of the original bond that is contained in the sacrament of baptism. Religious profes-sion "is deeply rooted in baptisma.I consecration and is a fuller expression of it.'~ In this way religious profession, in its constitutive content, becomes a new consecration: the consecration and giving of the human person to God, loved above all else. The commitment undertaken by means of the vows to practice the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience, according to the determinations proper to each religious family as laid down in the constitutions, is the expression of a total consecration to God and, at the same time, the means that leads to its achievement. This is also the source of the manner proper to consecrated .persons of bearing witness and of exercising the aposto-late. And yet it is necessary :to seek the roots of that conscious and~free consecration and of the subsequent giving of self to God as his possession in baptism, the sacrament that leads us to the~paschal mystery as the apex and center of the redemption ac,~omplished by Christ. Therefore, in order to highlight fully the reality of religious professions, we must turn to the vibrant ~,ords of St. Paul in the Letter to the Romans: "Do you,no~t know. that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, so that like Christ. we too might walk into the newness of life";26 "our old self was crucifiedowith him so that., we might no longer be enslaved by sin";27 so you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus?s Upon the sacramental basis of baptism in which it is rooted, religious profession is a new ~'burial in the death of Christ": new, because it is made with awareness and by choice; new, because of love and vocation; new, by reason of unceasing "conversion." This "burial in death" causes the person "buried together with Christ" to "walk like Christ in newness of life." In Christ crucified is to be found the ultimate foundati,~n both of baptismal consecration 41111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 and of the profession of the evangelical counsels which--in tile words of the Second Vatican Council--"constitutes a special consecration." It is at one and the same time both death and liberation. St. Paul writes: "Consider yourselves dead to sin." At the same time he calls this death "freedom from the slavery of sin." Above all, though, religious consecration, through its sacramental foundation in holy baptism, constitutes a new life "for God in Jesus Christ." In this way, simultaneously with the' profession of the evangelical counsels, in a much more mature and conscious manner "the old nature is put off," and likewise "the new nature is put on, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness," to use once more the words of the Letter tothe l~phesians.29 A Covenant of Spousal Love 8. Thus, then, dear Brothers and Sisters--all of you who, throughout the Church, live the covenant of the evangelical counsels-~-renew in this Holy Year of the Redemption your awareness of your special sharing in the Redeemer's death on the cross--that sharing through which ~you have risen with him, and continually rise with him, to a new life. The Lord speaks to each of you, just as he once spoke through the prophet Isaiah: Fear not, for i have redeemed you: ' ~ I have called you by name, you are mine.a0 The evangelical call: "If you would be perfect., follow meTM guides us with the light of the words of the divine Teacher. From th~ depth of the redemption there comes Christ's call, and from that depth it teaches the human soul. By virtue of the grace of the redemption, this saving call assumes in the soul Of the person called the actual form of the professioh of the evangelical counsels. In this.form is contained your answer to the call .of redeeming love, and it is also an answer of love: a love of self-giving--which is the heart of consecration, of the consecration of the person. The words of Isaiah "I have redeemed you., you are mine"--seem toseal precisely this love, which is the love of a total and exclusive consecration to God. This is how the special covenant of spousal love is made, in which we seem to hear an unceasing echo of the words concerning Israel whom the Lord "has chosen as his own possession.'~2 For in every consecrated person the Israel of the New and Eternal Covenant is chosen. The whole messianic People, the entire Church, is chosen in every person whom the Lord selects from the midst of this people; in every person who is consecrated,for everyone, to God as his exclusive possession. While it is true that not even the greatest saint can repeat the words of Christ: "For their sake I consecrate myself"33 in the full redemptive force of these words, nevertheless, through self-giving love, through the offering of Redemptionis Donum / 489 oneself to God as his exclusive possession, each one can, through faith, stand within the radius of these words. Are we not reminded of this by the other words of the Apostle in the Letter to the Romans that we so often repeat and meditate upon: "I appeal to you therefore, brethren, by the mercy of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship"?.34 These words are, as it were, a distant echo of the one who, when he comes into the world and becomes man, says to the Father: "You have prepared a body for me. ~. Lo, I have come to do your will, O God.'~5 In this particular context of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, let us, then, go back again to the mystery of the body and soul of Christ as the complete subject of spousal and redemptive love--spousal because redemp-tive. For love he offered himself; for love he gave his body "for the sin of the world." By immersing yourselves in the paschal mystery of the Redeemer through the consecration of the religious vows, you desire, through the love of total giving, to fill your souls and your bodies with the spirit of sacrifice---even as St. Paul invites you to do in the words of the Letter to the Romans just quoted: "To offer your bodies as a sacrifice.'~6 In this way, the likeness of that love which, in the heart of Christ, is both redemptive and spousal, is imprinted on the religious profession. And such love should fill each of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, from the very source of thatparticularconsecration which--on the sacramental basis of holy baptism-- is the beginning of your new life in Christ and in the Church: it is the beginning of the new creation. Together with this love, may there grow deeper in each one of you the joy of belonging exclusively to God, of being a particular inheritance of the most Holy Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Now and then repeat with the psalmist the inspired words: Whom else have I in heaven? And when ! am with you, the earth delights me not. Though my flesh and my heart waste away, God is the'rock of my heart" and my portion foreverP7 Or 1 say to the Lord, My Lord are you. Apart from you I have no good. O Lord, my allotted portion and my cup, You it is who hold fast my lot,3s May the knowledge of belonging to God himself in Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the World and the Spouse of the Church, seal your hearts39 and all your thoughts, words, and deeds, with the sign of the biblical spouse: As you know, this intimate and profound knowledge of Christ is actuated 490 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 and grows deeper day by day through the life.of personal, community and liturgical prayer proper to each of your religious families. In this, too--and especially so--the men and women religious who are dedicated essentially to contemplation are a powerful aid and a stimulating support for their brothers and sisters devoted to the works of the apostolate. May this knowledge of belonging to Christ open your hearts, thoughts and deeds, with the key of the Mystery of the Redemption, to all the sufferings, needs and hopes of individuals and of the world--in the midst of which your evangelical consecration has been planted as a particular sign of the presence of God, for whom all live,40 embraced by the invisible dimension of this kingdom. The words "Follow me"--spoken by Christ when he "looked upon and loved" each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters--also have this meaning: you take part, in the most complete and radical way possible, in the shaping of that new creation,4~ which must emerge from the redemption of the world, by means of the power of the Spirit of Truth operating from the abundance of the Paschal Mystery of Christ. Evangelical Counsels The Economy of Redemption 9. Through your profession the way of evangelical counsels opens up before each one of you. In the Gospel there are many exhortations that go beyond the measures of the commandment, indicating not only what is "neces-sary," but what is "better." Thus, for example, the exhortation not to judge,42 to lend "expecting nothing in return,'~3 to comply with all the requests and desires of our neighbor,44 to invite the poor to a meal?5 to pardon always,46 and many other invitations. If, in accordance with tradition, the profession of the evangelical counsels has concentrated on the three points of chastity, poverty and obedience, this usage seems to give clear enough emphasis to their importance as key ele-ments, and, as a kind of "summing up" of the entire economy of salvation. Everything in the Gospel that is a counsel enters indirectly into the pro-gram of that way to which Christ calls when he says: "Follow me." But chastity, poverty and obedience give to this way a particular Christocentric characteristic, and imprint upon it a specific sign of the Economy of Redemption. Essential to this "economy" is the transformation of the entire cosmos, through the heart of man, i'rom within: "For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. and will be set free from its bondage to decay, and obtain the glorious liberty of the children of God.'~7 This transformation takes place in step with that love which Christ's call infused in the depths of the individual, in step with that love which constitutes the very substance of consecration: a man or woman's vowing of self to God in religious profession, on the foundation of the sacramental consecration of baptism. Redemptionis Donum / 49"1 We can discover the bases of the economy of redemption by reading the words of the First Letter of St. John: Do not love the world or the things of the world. If anyone loves the world, love for the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world passes away, and the lust of it: but he who does the will of God abides forever.'~ Religious profession places in the heart of each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, the love of the Father, that love which is in the heart of Jesus Christ, the Redeemer of the World. It is love which embraces the world and everything in it that comes from the Father, and which at the same time tends to overcome in the world everything that "does not come from the Father." It tends therefore to conquer the threefold lust. "The lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life" are hidden within man as the inheritance of original sin, as a result of which the relationship with the world, created by God and given to man to be ruled by him,49 was disfigured in the human heart in various ways: In the economy of redemption the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty and obedience constitute the most radical means for trans-forming in the human heart this relationship with "the world": with the exter-nal world and with one's personal "1," which in some way is the central part "of the world" in the biblical sense, if what "does not come from the Father" begins within it. Against the background .of the phrases taken from the First Letter of St. John, it is not difficult to see the fundamental importance of the three evangel-ical counsels in the whole economy of redemption. Evangelical chastity helps us to transform in our interior life everything that has it sources in the lust of the flesh; evangelical poverty, everything that finds its source in the lust of the eyes; and evangelical obedience enables us to transform in a radical way that which in the human heart arises from the pride of life. We are deliberately speaking here of an overcoming as a transformation, for the entire economy of the redemption is set in the framework of the words spoken in the priestly prayer to the Father: "1 do not ask you to take them out of the world, but to guard them from the evil one."~0 The evangelical counsels in their essential purpose aim at "the renewal of creation": "The world," thanks to them, is to be subjected to man and given to him in such a way that man himself may be perfectly given to God. Participation in the Self-Emptying of Christ 10. The internal purpose of the evangelical counsels leads to the discovery of yet other aspects that emphasize the close connection of the counsels with the economy of redemption. We know that the economy of redemption finds its culminating point in the paschal mystery of Jesus Christ, in whom there are joined self-emptying through death and birth to a new life through the Resur-rection. The practice of the evangelical counsels contains a deep reflection of this paschal duality;5~ the inevitable destruction of what in each of us is sin and 492 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 its inheritance; and the possibility of being reborn each day to a more pro-found good hidden in the human soul. This good is manifested under the action of grace, toward which the practice of chastity, poverty and obedience renders the human soul particularly sensitive. The entire economy of redemp-tion is realized precisely through this sensitivity to the mysterious action of the Ho!y Spirit, the direct author of all holiness. Along this path the profession of the evangelical counsels opens out in each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, a wide space for the "new creation"~z that emerges in your human 'T' precisely from the economy of the redemption and, through this human "I," also into the interpersonal and social dimensions. At the same time it emerges in humanity as part of the world created by God, that world that the Father loved "anew" in the eternal Son, the Redeemer of the World. Of this Son St. Paul says that "though he was in the form of God. he emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men."53 The characteristic of self-emptying contained in the practice of the evangelical counsels is therefore a .completely Christocentric characteristic. And for this reason also the Teacher from Nazareth explicitly indicates the cross as the condition for following in his footsteps, He who once said to each one of you "Follow me" has also said: "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me" (that is to say, walk in my footsteps).54 And he said this to all his listeners, not just to the disciples. The law of renunciation belongs therefore to the very essence of the Chris-tian vocation. But it belongs in a particular way to the essence of the vocation linked to the profession of the evangelical counsels. To those who walk the way of this vocation, even those difficult expressions that we read in the Letter to the Philippians speak in comprehensible language: For him "I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as refuse, in order that I may gain Christ and be-found in him.'~5 Renunciation therefore--the reflection of the mystery of Calvary--in order "to be" more fully in the crucified and risen Christ; renunciation in order to recognize fully in him the mystery of one's own human nature and to confirm this on the path of that wonderful process of which the same apostle writes in another place: "Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed every day.'~6 In this way the economy of the redemp-tion transfers the power of the paschal mystery to the level of humanity, docile to Christ's call to life in chastity, poverty and obedience, that is, to a. life according to the evangelical counsels. Chastity, Poverty, ,Obedience II. The paschal character of this call makes itself known from various points of view in connection with each individual .counsel. Chastity It is indeed according to the measure of the economy of the redemption Redemptionis Donum / 493 that one must also judge and practice that chastity which each of you has promised by vow, together with poverty and obedience. There is contained in this the response to Christ's words, which are at the same time an invitation: "There are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. He who is able to receive this, let him receive it. Prior to this Christ has emphasized: "Not all men can receive this saying, but only those to whom it is given."~s These last words clearly show that this invitation is a counsel. To this also the apostle Paul devoted a special reflection in the First Letter to the Corinthians.59 This counsel is addressed in a particular way to the love of the human heart. It places greater emphasis on the spousal character of this love, while poverty and still more obedience seem to emphasize primarily the aspect of redemptive love contained in religious consecration. As you know, it is a question here of chastity in the sense "of making themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven," a question, that is, of virginity or celibacy as an expression of spousal love for the Redeemer himself. In this sense the apostle teaches that they "do well" who choose matrimony, but they "do better who choose virginity.'~° "The unmarried man is anxious about the affairs of the Lord, how to please the Lord,'~ and "the unmarried woman or girl is anxious about the affairs of the Lord, how to be holy in body and spirit."62 There is contained neither in the words of Christ nor in those of Paul any lack of esteem for matrimony. The evangelical counsel of chastity is only an indication of that particular possibility which, for the human heart, whether of a man or of a woman, constitutes the spousal love of Christ himself, of Jesus the "Lord." "To make themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven" is not in fact merely a free renunciation of marriage and family life, but a charismatic choice of Christ as one's exclusive spouse. This choice not only specifically enables one to be "anxious about the affairs of the Lord;" but--when it is made "for the kingdom of heaven"---it brings this eschatologi-cal kingdom of God close to the life of all people in the conditions of temporal-ity and makes it in a certain way present in the midst of the world. In this way consecrated persons accomplish the interior purpose of the entire economy of the redemption. For this purpose expresses itself in bringing near the kingdom of God in its definitive, eschatoiogical dimension. Through the vow of chastity consecrated persons share in the economy of the redemp-tion through the free renunciation of the temporal joys of married and family life; on the other hand, precisely by their "having made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven," they bring into the midst of this passing world the announcement of the future resurrection63 and of eternal life: life in union with God himself through the beatific vision and the love which contains in itself and completely pervades, all the other loves of the human heart. Poverty 12. How very expressive, in the. matter of poverty, are the words of the 494 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 Second Letter to the Corinthians, which constitute a concise synthesis of all that we hear on this theme in the Gospel: "For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yete for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.TM According to these words, poverty actually enters into the interior structure of the redemptive grace of Jesus Christ. Without poverty, it is not possible to understand the mystery of the gift of divinity to man, a gift which is accomplished precisely in Jesus Christ. For this reason also it is found at the very center of the Gospel, at the beginning of the message of the eight Beatitudes: "Blessed are the poor in spirit."~5 Evangelical poverty reveals to the eyes of the human soul the perspec-tive of the whole mystery, "hidden for ages in God.'~6 Only those who are "poor" in this way are also interiorly capable of understanding the poverty of the One who is infinitely rich. The poverty of Christ conceals in itself this infinite richness of God; it is indeed an infallible expression of it. A richness, in fact, such as the divinity itself, could not have been adequately expressed in any created good. It can be expressed only in poverty. Therefore it can be properly understood only by the poor, the poor in spirit. Christ; the God-man, is the first of these: He who, "though he was rich became poor," is not only the teacher, but also the spokesman and guarantor of that salvific poverty which corresponds to the infinite richness of God and to the inexhaustible power of his grace. And thus is it also true--as the apostle writes--that "by this poverty we have become rich." It is the teacher and spokesman of poverty who makes us rich. For this very reason he says to the young man.of the synoptic gospels: "Sell what you possess and give . and you will have treasure in heaven.'~7 In these words there is a call to enrich others through one's own poverty. But in the depths of this call there is also hidden the testimony of the infinite richness of God which, transferred to the human soul in the mystery of grace, created in man himself, precisely through poverty, a source for enriching others that is not comparable with any other resource of material goods, a source for bestowing gifts on others in the manner of God himself. This giving is accomplished in the cohtext of the mystery of Christ who "has made us rich by his poverty." We see how this process of enrichment unfolds in the pages of the Gospel, finding its culmination in the paschal event: Christ, poorest in his death on the cross, is also the one who enriches us infinitely with the fullness of new life through his resurrection. Dear Brothers and Sisters, poor in spirit through your evangelical profes-sion, receive into the whole of your lives this salvific profile of the poverty of Christ. Day by day seek its ever greater development! Seek above all "the kingdom of God and his righteousness," and all other things "shall be yours as well.'~8 May there be accomplished in you and through you the evangelical blessedness that is reserved for the poor,69 the poor in spirit!70 Redemptionis Donum/ 495 Obedience 1 3. Christ, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And beingfound in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross.7~ Here, in these words of the Letter of St. Paul to the Philippians, we touch the very essence of the redemption, In this reality is inscribed, in a primary and constitutive way, the obedience of Jesus Christ. Other words of the apostle, taken this time from the Letter to the Romans, confirm this: For as by one man's disobedience many were made sinners, so by one man's obedience many will be made righteous.72 The evangelical counsel of obedience is the call which derives from this obedience of Christ "unto death." Those who accept this call, expressed by the words "Follow me," decided--as the council says--to follow Christ who "by an obedience which carried him even to death on the cross, redeemed human-ity and made it holy.''73 By living out the evangelical counsel of obedience, they reach the deepest essence of the entire Economy of the Redemption. By ful-filling this counsel, they desire to gain a special sharing in the obedience of that "One alone" by whose obedience all "will be made righteous." It can therefore be said that those who decide to live according to the counsel of obedience are placed in a unique way between the mystery of sin74 and the mystery of justification and salvific grace. They are in this "place" with all the sinful background of their own human nature, with all the inheritance "of the pride of life," with all the selfish tendencies to dominate rather than to serve; and precisely by means of the vow of obedience they decide to be transformed into the likeness of Christ, who "redeemed humanity and made it holy by his obedience." In the counsel of obedience they desire to find their own role in the redemption of Christ, and their own way of sanctification. This is the way which Christ marked out in the Gospel, speaking many times of fulfilling the will of God, of ceaselessly searching for it. "My food is to do the will of him who sent me, and to accomplish his works."75 "Because I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me."76 "He :who sent me is with me; he has not left me alone, for 1 always do what is pleasing to him.''77 "For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me."78 This constant fulfilling of the will of the Father also reminds us of that messianic confession of the psalmist in the Old Testament: "Behold I come; in the written scroll it is prescribed for me. To do 3/our will, O my God, is my delight, and your law is within my heart.''79 This obedience of the Son--full of joy--reaches its zenith in the face of the passion and cross: "Father, if it is your will, take this cup from me; yet not my will but yours be done."s0 From the prayer ~in Gethsemane onward, Christ's 1196 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 readiness to do the will of the Father is filled to the very brim of suffering, becoming that obedience "unto death, even death on a cross" spoken of by St. Paul. Through the vow of obedience consecrated persons decide to imitate with humility the obedience of the Redeemer in a special way. For although sub-mission to the will of God and obedience to his law are for every state a condition of Christian life, nevertheless in the "religious state," in the "state of perfection," the vow of obedience establishes in the heart of each of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, the duty of a particular reference to Christ "obedient unto death." And since this obedience of Christ constitutes the essential nucleus of the work of the redemption, as is seen from the words of the apostle quoted above, therefore also in the fulfilling of the evangelical counsel of obedience we must discern a particular moment in that "economy of the redemption" which pervades your whole vocation in the Church. From this derives that "total availability to the Holy Spirit" who is at work above all in the Church, as my predecessor Paul VI puts it in the apostolic exhortation Evangelica Testificatio,8i a'nd who is likewise manifested in the constitutions of your institutes. From this derives that religious submission which, in a spirit of faith, consecrated persons show to their legitimate superiors Who hold the place of God.82 In the Letter to the Hebrews we find on this theme a very significant indication: "Obey your leaders and submit to them; for they are keeping watch over your souls, as men who will have to give account." And the author of the letter adds: "Let them do this joyfully, and not sadly, for that would be of no advantage to you."~3 On the other hand, superiors will bear in mind that they. must exercise in a spirit of service the power conferred on them through the ministry of the Church, and they will show willingness to listen to their brothers or sisters in order to discern more clearly what the Lord asks of each one. At the same time they retain the authority proper to them to decide and order what they consider appropriatr. Hand in hand with submission-obedience thus conceived goes the attitude of service which informs your whole life after the example of the Son of Man who "came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many."s4 And his mother, at the decisive moment of the annunciation-incarna-tion, entering from the very beginning into the whole salvific economy of the redemption, said: "Behold, 1 am the handmaid of the Lord; let it be done to me according to your word."aS Remember also, dear Brothers and Sisters, that the obedience to which you committed yourselves by consecrating yourselves without reserve to God through the profession of the evangelical counsels is a particular expression of interior freedom, just as the definitive expression of Christ's freedom was his obedience "unto death": "1 lay down my life, that I may take it again. No one Redemptionis Donum / takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord.'~6 Love for the Church Witness 14. In the Jubilee Year of the Redemption the entire Church wishes to renew her love for Christ, the redeemer of man and of the world, her Lord and also her divine Spouse. And so in this holy year the Church looks with special attentibn to you, dear Brothers and Sisters, who, as consecrated persons, occupy a special place, both in the universal community of the People of God, and in every local community. While the Church wishes also your love for Christ to be renewed through the grace of the extraordinary jubilee, at the same time, she is fully aware that this love constitutes a special possession of the whole People of God. The Church is aware that, in the love that Christ receives from consecrated persons, the love :of the entire Body is directed in a special and exceptional way toward the Spouse who, i~t the same time, is the Head of this Body. The Church expresses to you, dear Brothers and Sisters, her gratitude for your consecration, and for your profession of the evangelical counsels which are a special witness of love. She also expresses anew her great confidence in you who have chosen a state of life that is a special gift of God to the Church. She counts upon your complete and generous collaboration in order that, as faithful stewards of this precious gift, you may "think with the Church" and always act in union with her, in conformity with the teaching and directives of the magisterium of Peter and of the pastors in communion with him, fostering at the personal and community level a renewed ecclesial awareness. And at the same time, the Church prays for you, that your witness of love may never fail.87 She also asks you to accept in this spirit the present message of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption. Precisely in this way the Apostle Paul prayed in his Letter to the Philippians, that "your love may abound more and more., with all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and may be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled with the fruits of righteousness. "~ Through the work of Christ's redemption "God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us.'~9 1 constantly ask the Holy Spirit to grant to each one of you, according to your own gift,9° to bear special witness to this love. May "the law of the Spirit that gives life in Christ Jesus" be victorious within you in a way worthy of your vocation, that law that has "set us free from the law of. death.TM Live, then, this new life in the measure of the different gifts of God, which corresponds to the vocation of your individual religious families. The profession of the evangelical counsels shows each of you how, with the help of the Spirit, you can put to death92 everything that is contrary to life and serves sin and death; everything that is opposed to true love of God and others. The world needs the authentic "contradiction" provided by religious conse- 4911 / Reviow for Religious, July-August, 1984 cration, as an unceasing stimulus of saivific renewal. "Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that you may prove what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.'~3 After the special period of experimentation and renewal provided for by the motu proprio Ecclesiae Sanctae, your institutes have recently received, or are preparing to receive, the Church's approval of your renewed constitutions. May this gift of the Church encourage you to know them, to love them, and, above all, to live them in generosity and fidelity, remembering that obedience is an unambiguous manifestation of love. It is precisely this witness of love that the world today and all humanity need. They need this witness to the redemption as this is imprinted upon the profession of the evangelical counsels. These counsels---each in its own way and all of them together in their intimate connection--"bear witness" to the redemption which, by the power of Christ's cross and resurrection, leads the world and humanity, in the Holy Spirit, toward that definitive fulfillment which man, and through man, the whole of creation finds in God and only in God. Your witness is therefore of inestimable value, You must constantly strive to make it fully transparent and fully fruitful in the world. A further aid to this will be the faithful observance of the Church's norms regarding also the outward manifestation of your consecration and of your commitment to poverty.94 Apostolate 15. From this witness of spousal love for Christ, through which the entire salvific truth of the Gospel becomes particularly visible, there also comes, dear Brothers and Sisters, as something proper to your vocation, a sharing in the Church's apostolate, in her universal mission--which is accomplished con-temporaneously in every nation in many different ways and through many different charisms. Your specific mission is in harmony with the mission of the apostles whom the Lord sent "to the whole world" to "teach all nations,'s5 and it is also linked to the mission of the hierarchial order. In the apostolate which consecrated persons exercise, their spousal love for Christ becomes, in an as it were organic way, love for the Church as the Body of Christ, for the Church as the People of God, fbr the Church which is at one and the same time Spouse and Mother. It is difficult to describe, or even to list, the many different ways in which consecrated persons fulfill through the apostolate their love for the Church. This apostolate is always born from that particular gift of your founders which, received from God and approved by the Church, has become a charism for the different needs of the Church and of the world at particular moments of history, and, in its turn, this apostolate is extended and strengthened in the life of religious communities as one of the enduring elements of the Church's own life and apostolate. In each of these elements, in each field--both of Redemptionis Donum / 499 contemplation so fruitful for the apostolate and of direct apostolic action--the Church's constant blessing accompanies you, as does at the same time her pastoral and maternal solicitude with regard to the spiritual identity of your life and the correctness of your activity in the midst of the great universal community of vocations and charisms of the whole People of God. Through each of the institutes separately, and through their organic integration into the whole of, the Church's mission, special emphasis is given to the Economy of Redemption, the profound sign of which each one of you, dear Brothers and Sisters, bears within himself or herself through the consecration and profession of the evangelical counsels. And thus, even though the many different apostolic works that you perform are extremely important, nevertheless the truly fundamental work of the aPostolate remains always what (and at the same time who) you are in the Church. Of each one of you can be repeated, with special appropriateness, these words of St. Paul: '~For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God."96 And at the same time this "being hidden with Christ in God" makes it possible to apply to you the words of the master himself: "Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven."97 For the sake of this light with which you must "shine before men," of great imPortance among you is the witness of your mutual love linked to the fraternal spirit of each community, for the Lord has said: "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another."gg The fundamentally communitarian nature of your religious life--nourished by the teaching of the Gospel, by the sacred liturgy, and above all by the Eucharist--is a special way of accomplishing this interpersonal and social dimension. By caring for one another, by bearing one another's burdens, you show, by your unity, that Christ is living in your midst.99 Important for your apostolate in the Church is every kind of sensitivity to the needs and sufferings of the individual, which are seen so clearly and so movingly in today's world. For the Apostle Paul teaches: "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ,;~°° and he adds that "love is the fulfilling of the Law."1°1 Your mission must be seen! Deep, very deep must be the bond which links it to the Church!~°2 Through everything that you do, and especially through everything that you are, may the truth be proclaimed and reconfirmed that "Christ loved the Church and gave himself up for her"~o3--the truth that is at the basis of the whole Economy of Redemption. From Christ, the Redeemer of the World, may the inexhaustible source of your love of the Church pour forth! Conclusion The Eyes Enlightening the Heart 16. This exhortation, which 1 address to you on the Solemnity of the Annunciation in the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, is meant to be an 5{11) / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 expression of that love which the Church has for men and womeri religious: You, dear Brothers and Sisters, are truly a special treasure of the Church. And this treasure becomes more understandable through °meditation on the reality of the redemption--for which the present Holy Year offers a continuous opportunity and a welcome encouragement. Recognize therefore, in this light, your identity and your dignity. May the Holy Spirit--through Christ's cross and resurrection--"having the eyes of your hearts enlightened," enable you "to know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance in the saints."~0~ These "eyes enlightening the heart" the Church unceasingly asks ]'or each ¯ one of you who have already taken the road of the profession of the evfingelical counsels. The Church, together with you, asks for the same "enlightened eyes" for many other Christians---especially for young men and women--that they, too, may discover this way, and not be afraid to enter upon it, that---even in the midst of the adverse circumstances of life today--they may hear Christ's "Follow Me."1°5 You, too, must strive for this through your prayer, and aiso through the witness of that love whereby "God abides in us, and his love is perfected in us."~o6 May this witness become present everywhere, and universally clear. May the people of our times, in their spiritual weariness, find in this witness both support and hope. Therefore serve your brethren with the joy that wells up from a heart in which Christ has his dwelling. "And may the world of our time., be enabled to receive the good news, not from evangelizers who are dejected and discouraged., but from ministers of the Gospel whose lives glow with fervor, who have first received the joy of Christ."~07 The Church, in her love for you, does not cease "kneeling before the Father. and praying"t0g that he may effect in you "the strengthening of the inner nature,''~09 and, as in you, so also in many others of your baptized brothers and sisters---especially young people--so that they, too, may find the same way to holiness which, in the course of history, so many generations have traveled together with Christ the Redeemer of the World and Spouse of Souls, often~ leaving behind them the bright radiance of God's light against the dark and gray background of human existence. To all of you who travel this road in the present phase of the history of the Church and the world there is addressed this fervent hope of the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, that "you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have the power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God."~0 Message of the Solemnity of the Annunciation of the Lord On the Feast of the Annunciation in thi~ Holy Year of the Redemption, I place the present exhortation in the heart of the Immaculate Virgin. Among all Redemptionis Donum / 501 persons consecrated unreservedly to G6d, she is the first. She--the Virgin of Nazareth--is also the one most fully consecrated to God, consecrated in the most perfect way. Her spousal~love reached its height in the divine motherhood through the power of the Holy Spirit. She, who as mother carries Christ in her arms, at the same time fulfills in the most perfect way his call: "Follow me." And she follows him--she, the mother--as her teacher of chastity, poverty and obedience. How poor she was on Bethlehem night, and how poor on Calvary! How obedient she was at the moment .of the Annunciation, and then--at the foot of the Cross--obedient "unto death!" How dedicated she was in all her earthly life to the cause of the kingdom" of heaven through most chaste love. If the entire Church finds in Mary her first model, all the more reason do you find her so--you as consecrated individuals and communities within the Church! On the day that calls to mind the inauguration of the Jubilee of the Redemption, which took place last year, I address myself to you with this present message to invite you to renew your religious consecration according to the model of the consecration of the very Mother of God. Beloved Brothers and Sisters! "God is faithful, by whom you were called into the fellowship of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord."lll Persevering in fidelity to him who is faithful, strive to find a very special support in Mary! For she was called by God to the most perfect communion with his Son. May she, the faithful Virgin, also be the Mother of your evangelical way. May she help yoti to experience and to show to the world how infinitely faithful is God himself! With these hopes 1 bless you with all my heart. From the Vatican, March 25, in the Jubilee Year of the Redemption, 1984, the sixth of my pontificate. NOTES ~See Mt 7:14. 2Ps 130(129):7. .JSee 2 Co 11:2. sSee Mt' 19:21; Mk 10:21; Lk' 18:22. 6Mk 10:21. 8Jn 3:16. 91 P 1:18-19. ml Co 6:20. ~2Mt 5:48. ~JSee Lv 19:2; 11:44. ~4Ep 5:1-2. ~6Mk 8:35; see Mt 10:39; Lk 9:24. ~TMt 19:21. ~gMt 6:21. ~°See Mt 19:21; Mk 10:21; Lk 18:22. 22Mt 19:16. ~JJn 15:16. 241 Jn 4:10. 4See Mt 18:20. 7Mt 19:21. ~1 Co 6:19-20. ~Sls 44:22. ~sSee Mt 6:19-20. 2~See Jn 14:26. ~See Second Vatican Council, decree Perfectae Caritatis, 5; see also document of the Congrega-tion for Religious and Secular Institutes "Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate" (May 3 I, 1983), nn. 5ff. ~6Rm 6:3-4. ~TRm 6:6. 2SRm 6:1 I. ~gSee Ep 4:22-24. 51)2 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 J°ls 43:1. 34Rm 12:1. asPs 16( 15):2,5. 42See Mt 7:1. ~6See Mt 6:14-15. ~°Jn 17:15. 5JPh 2:6-7: 57Mr 19:12.° 6~I Co 7:32. ~2 Co 8:9. ~Mt 19:21. 32Ps 135 (134):4. J3Jn 17:19. a~Heb 10:5,7. ~6Rm 12:1. aTPs 73(72):25-26. 39See Sg 8:6. ~See Lk 20:38. :4~2 Co 5:17. *JLk 6:35. '~See Mt 5:40-42. *~See Lk 14:13-14. *TRm 8:19-21. '~1 Jn 2:15-17. ~gSee Gn 1:28. ~See Perfectae Caritatis, 5. 522 Co 5:17. ~Mk 8:34: Mt 16:24. ssPh 3:8-9. 562 Co 4:16. 5SMt 19:11. 59See I Co 7:28-40: ~°See I Co 7:38. 621 Co 7:34. 6~See Lk 20:34-36; Mt 22:30: Mk 12:25. 65Mt 5:3. 66Ep 3:9. 67Mt 19:21; see Mk 10:21; Lk 18:22. 7°Mr 5:3. 7~Ph 2:6-8. 74Mysterium lniquitatis; see 2 Th 2:7. 77Jn 8:29. tSJn 6:38. ~OLk 22:42; see Mk 14:36; Mt 26:42. 82See Perfectae Caritatis, 14. 85Lk 1:38. 86Jn 10:17-18. 89Rm 5:5. 9°See I Co 7:7. 6SMk 6:33; eLk 6:20. 72Rm ~: 19. 7-~See Perfectae Caritatis, I. 75Jn 4:34. 76Jn 5:30. 79ps 40(39):8-9; see Heb 10:17. s~See Evangelica Testificatio, 6. S~Heb 13:17. ~4Mk 10:45. sTSee Lk 22:32. ssPh 1:9-1 I. 91Rm 8:2. 92See Rm 8:13. 9-~Rm 12:2. 9~See Code of Canon Law, canon 669. 9~See Mt 28:19. 9~Col 3:3. 97Mt 5:16. ~Jn 13:35. 99See Perfectae Caritatis, 15. t°°Ga 6:2. ~o~ Rm 13:10. ~°2The Code of Canon Law explicitly mentions this with regard to apostolic activity: see canon 675, sec. 3. ~O3Ep 5:25. , ~Ep 1:18. IO~Lk 5:27. ~°~1 Jn 4!12. ~°TPope Paul VI, apostolic exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi, 80. ~°sSee Ep 3:14. ~°gSee Ep 3:16. n0Ep 3:17;19. ml Co 1:9. Encourage Vocations May I also ask you for something?You are well aware of the needs of the Church all over the world in relation to vocations to the priesthood and to the religious life. My request is that you do not fail to challenge the young to follow Christ in this way. Help them to discover the divine call. Support them by your prayer, your advice, and the example of your lives.--John Paul Ii, to the General Chapter of the Congregation of Christian Brothers. L'Osscrvatore Romano, 24 April, 1984, p. 9. Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self Anthony Wieczorek, O. Praem. This article is the fruit of the prayerful reflections of Bro~ Wieczorek as he approached the time of his solemn profession during the days of Holy Week. His last article. "Poverty. Time. Solitude: A Conte.xt for a Celibate Life-Style.~appeared in the issue of September/October. 1982. Bro. Wieczorek resides in St. Joseph Priory: 103 Grant Street: De Pere. WI 54115. Commitment is a life and death decision. This is especially true for such commitments as marriage, profession, arid even the taking 'on ~of certain jobs requiring a good degree of responsibility. Commitment is a decision to live a certain life, to embrace life and enter into it fully. At the same time, it is a death. It means letting go of other options and alternatives, of other equally good or better ways of living. For both these reasons, because commitment is an embracing of life and death, commitments are' often difficult to make, causes of not a little anxiety and fear. The fear is not simply because of the dying required; it is perhaps least of all due to that. Rather, the main cause for fear in commitment is precisely the living, the life that is chosen with all its unknown consequences. Life is just as much out of human control as death. Life is just as much a surrender as death. When a person truly abandons oneself to living, truly living--wak.efully, consciously, with senses open and alert to every and anything--the final result is just as mysterious and uncertain as death. At least that is what I am finding out as the day of my solemn profession nears. What is involved in making such a commitment? Where will such a life lead? What price will such a life demand? For make no mistake, living exacts a terrible price--terrible and beautiful. Truly, commitment is a dying and rising of self. The self I am and know given over to transformation by living a life the consequences and end of which 1 cannot envision. The frightening part of commitment, for many of us, as these reflections try to articulate, is not just the dying to other lives, it is the rising to new and different life and, perhaps, to 503 504/ Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 an equally new and different self. The Seed of An Uncertain Future I wonder, Lord, if you wonder where all the singleheartedness has gone. It is still there, thought now I am no longer so wholly consumed by it. All its life, the residue of its past as well as the fire of its dreams, is squeezed tightly into a single seed. The seed is all curled up about itself. It is afraid to die for when it does it will erupt into nbt only new life, that is not so bad, but into different life. The tree from which that scared seed grew is only one parent. The other is mystery, wild and elusive. It will be no new tree that stretches itself upward and downward but a different tree. And so I cling to the last shreds of my former life, feeling it nonetheless slipping, being pulled endlessly from my grasp. And when the last element is gone and I fall helplessly into the soil, half buried by the force of the fall, then I shall die/rise--for it is all the same--to not only live anew but differently. I die to arise as a self I do not know; the me I am assumed, eaten up as food, by the person 1 shall become. .The seed existing in me is devouringme to nourish itself. It is eating its way out of me, bite by bite. Soon I will be gone. Yet not gone, for a new and different self will begin to grow from where 1 stood, with its own life, its own dreams and future. As it is now part of me, so then ! shall be part of it, consumed as fuel until it is strong enough to move away and seek its own source of life, to wrap its lips around the mystery which gave it birth and suck into its being a vitality and energy I cannot imagine, let alone comprehend. And it will grow as the mystery it drinks saturates every cell of it. By that time l will have played my part. The husk that will be what remains of me will slowly crumble with a dry, crinkling sound. Discarded, will I be remembered by what has become of me? Will anything of me survive in that which survives me? When 1 too hang a lifeless husk from a tree, consumed wholly by what exists within me? Of Acorns and O~ks It's too bad acorns can't fly. Maybe it's just as well. I wonder, if they could, how many over the years would have changed their minds and returned in a flurry of little wings to the tree from which they fell? A person just can't be sure. In the fall, if you sit quietly amid the sounds of wind and rustling leaves you can occasionally hear the sudden and quite distinct plop of an acorn hitting the ground. And if you lean over it you can even hear the final little sigh the acorn makes just before, separated from the life of the tree, it dies. For me, the acorn is a symbol of faith. The whole and utter point of an acorn's life is to die. It dies so that the oak tree within it can sprout and grow and give birth to more acorns and so more oak trees. But what about the acorn? That surely isn't much of a life. I wonder if they're informed of the odds of success before they're sent on their suicide dive? For all the acorns that fall, how slim a percentage are able to accomplish their full mission? How many of Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self / 505 the well meaning little things end up in the bellies of squirrels? or get picked up by people like me who put them in a pocket, or sit them on a desk as a remembrance? All that wasted potential. That's why l say, it's too bad acorns can't fly. But acorns don't seem to mind the odds. Millions fall to pointless deaths each year. Each one, I suppose, acts in faith. And so do they die. Maybe I'm too romantic about this. Maybe acorns kick and scream over their fate. Maybe it's not that acorns voluntarily let go at all. Perhaps they hang on for dear life, literally, while the wind and tree try to shake them loose. And don't blame the tree; it is, after all, the wind that does the shaking. The wind jostles and bounces the branches and leaves until the acorns can no longer hang on, until .th,.ey fall, with a plop, onto the ground below. In my room is an 1con, Rublev's The Holy Trinity. On it are three figures, the three visitors greeted by Abraham. Each represents a different person of the Holy Trinity. They are, from left to right, Son, Father, and Spirit. They are seated at a table and on its center is a solitary cup. The symbolism speaks of the cup as the cup of commitment or decision or vow. The cup is the symbol of the incarnation. The Son in drinking it would vow to undergo the incarnation, the ministry and death. The Father looks sadly at the Son but makes no move to urge his drinking. The decision must be made freely and the Father respects that. The Spirit, though, is much less inhibited, much more impetuous. The Spirit motions toward the. cup, as if to push it closer to the Son, encouraging him to drink. In Greek and Hebrew, the word for spirit and wind is the same. I think that the word for Jesus and acorn should be the same also. The Spirit blew the cup across the table and thbn with a sudden gust blew the Son right out of heaven so that he fell, with a plop, upon the earth to live so briefly and then with a sigh die so that from his seed new life might sprout and grow. I wonder if the Son would rather have hung on to the Father? I Wonder if without the Spirit's insistence the Son would have continued to cling to heaven? Who can blame either of them? What were the Son's odds for.success? And the Spirit? The Spirit is the seed contained within the acorn--Son. Do not feel sorry for the acorn, nor for the Son. Rather, feel sorry for yourself; All of us are acorns. Each one is complete with a spirit-seed~ We cling to a cross and cling desperately, lest we too fall and we too germinate into a new and different creation. And yet, it is our purpose and fate to let go and drop down into the life we find ourselves forced by various kinds of necessity to live. I like to fancy myself a tree. Sad to say I am only the acorn. I am meant to fall, meant to die so that the. life within me might sprout and grow. For now, though, l~cling with all my strength to the tree, high above life, not at all anxious to.surrender my grasp and fall into it. I look down on the acorns already fallen with arms that ache and fingers that are numb. The wind will not let up. It is but a matter of time. Eventually I will fall and that will be that. There will be nowhere to go but into life, a life wholly foreign and different from my life as an acorn. Up to now I have not minded being an 506 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 acorn. But now I see a very serious shortcoming: acorns can't fly. The Waves and Tides of Life Yesterday I stood at the water's edge and watched the waves ebb and flow. The water Would rush ashore in a burst of extroversion and then, just as shyly, recede, as though it had scared and embarrassed itself with its own excitement. Today I think, how much life is like those waves. There is an ebb flow to my emotions. Today, though, 1 ebb, recede back into myself to be alone with my loneliness. And today, as I sit and recall the waves, they seem like hands groping, flaying out to grab hold of an3ithing or anyone~ They are like the hands of a ghost that can. neither hold nor ever be held. The waves that beat the sand and stones, are they ii'ying in fact to climb the shore? to step out and stand and walk out among the people who have from time to time plunged into their world only to emerge after a moment and walk away? Those people who enjoyed the waves for a moment, befriending them only to leave for the business of their own lives, leaving, too, the waves to lap longingly after life they can never know or share? I with them ebb further into my heart, receding back into the memories of those who have plunged for a moment into my llfe only to leave and leave me lapping after them. Like a lake .I sit alone, from time to time rising up with a rush only to slip back into myself, startled and embarrassed by my own need. Something within me is like a wave that slaps ashore but never stays, Something within me surges up only to be pulled back within by some internal gravity. I'm not sure if that something is just shy, testing the air and environ-ment then fleeing back inside, or if it is trapped, tryin~ to escape the,grasp of something else holding it bound. I don't even know what the something within me is, the wave-like thing that surges within me. I wonder if the waves feel the futility of their endless spending of energy? What do the waves accOmplish? At what do they succeed? Too pragmatic a question? I guess so. But the question comes because I, like them, ebb and flow over and over, so much motion without any progress onward or toward. Things within me, feelings, truths, continually well up and slide onto the shore of consciousness only to teasingly return to the depths, staying only long enough to be quickly felt, to be glanced, to pose a question but never long enough to give: an answer or even listen to my response. Maybe then 1 have it all wrong. Maybe the point of the waves is not for them to venture ashore. Maybe the waves are not groping but beckoning hands, calling me to enter it, urging and compelling me into its depths. The ebb and flow of feelings that roll up into consciousness, are they bait meant to lure me into my own depths? Endlessly they call, endlessly they reach .out to stroke and caress me into compliance, easing my fear with warm, soft strokes. Those waves that nowhere go gather me and draw me not nowhere but~down, deep down, then deeper still until memory of shore is gone and the memory of me upon the shore is equally gone, washed away by the waves. Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self ] 507 The Bondage of Busyness I'm sorry, Lord, so much these past few weeks l've had to do, to be busy about. How easy it is to put off being sensitive and aware by doing. It leaves no time to be, only time enough to do. Lately I've been going through life at light's speed. Stars blur into indistinguishable streaks of white light. And people too. And you, God; and you, too. You bead up on the surface of my life like water and roll away while 1 race on. It is for self-defense. Awareness requires sensitiv-ity and for that ability to feel. To feel. Can't I just ponder you slowly in my mind? Must I dare to feel you? To be pierced by experiences, allowing them to enter in, leave an impression, even draw blood7 There ,is something in me struggling to be free. Always the same words. And why not? It is the same reality. Bondage. When, Lord, when will I learn? When will 1 take the lessons to heart and emerge whole and authentic? It is being you require not sacrifice~ not doing. They are quite wrong, those who say "just being" is a passivity. It is work, painful work without respite: 1 know why people are wont to go mad. It is all so painfully obvious. Why do I go on living in such foreign realms where things done and not being alive is the currency? The True, the Real is here, so obvious, waiting. 1 wait too. I wait for death to free me from all my falsity and foolishness, from the hustle and bustle. And l blame you for the fire and brimstone I call upon myself. I hold my breath while ! pray for death, hoping ¯ all the while it will pass me by.,I am too afraid of living; of feeling life, to die. Doing is my excuse for not being, for not taking the time or oppo~unity to feel. After death, 1 imagine, there will be all eternity to be. But even now I can feel the fabric of the womb pressing against my face and hands. My fingers grope to tear it away. 1 strain to open my eyes against it and see beyond it, crying an angry moan through it and dissolve it with my tears. Being means living and I will not allow myself to be born. I want to die but fear birth, fear the living. If 1 do not die I cannot be born, cannot be. 1 am afraid of eternity, afraid that once I pass through this existence to life I will have nothing to keep me from being, from living truly. It is not physical death I fear. That is only the symbol. Physical death reminds me that someday I must make the 9assage: Physical death is a taunt that reminds me that this existence is illusion and all the busy things I do to keep me from being and feeling are illusory too. That's why I flee from death, for 1 am afraid to live, to be, to feel. The struggle is to be born. The bondage to be enwombed. Death is the door I refuse to open for life awaits me on the other side. When will I let go and let death take me? When, 1 know now, I can let go of my fear of feeling. Death is release but 1 do not want to be free. No, that is not true. I crave it, crave life even as I fear it. I die to the wrong thing. I die to life so that I may live in death instead of dying to death, the death in which I now, and yet, live. If I die to death 1 shall rise again to live life, to feel life. And so, to insulate myself, I lie buried beneath piles of mud while my spirit struggles to soar. I choose death 5011 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 for it is painless, effortless, feelingless. The mud is all the deedsI do, must do, ought to do, have to do, can do, should do. All these excuses, a facade of life to imagine the things 1 do, the death I live in, means I am really alive. I refuse the resurrection and choose the facade. The facade of life that I live, for I have not died. Death waits. I can be embraced any time, any time I choose to live. It is so simple:,to be free 1 must simply die to death and be willing to live. Two things block my way, fear and self-consciousness. Maybe there are three things, death is the third. They are, I'm sure, all interrelated., Fear of death of the selL.l have, after all, gone through quite a turnsince my graduate school day~ when self-fulfillment was the key. Maybe it still is a key, though not to any doors I find before me. The key now is death~ death to self. Maybe I'm morel a Buddhist than 1 thought. Fear stares me in the face every :step of the way. The face of fear fills my vision. It is only an illusion though. Fear has no more a face than does a mirror. Fear's face is my own reflection. So here it is Good Friday, a day of self-denial, a day of the celebration of the conquest of fear. Your faith, Lord, conquered your fear. And for me, I lack the faith for it will bid me to face fear and enter into death. And when 1 die I shall rise__to live, to feel. Feel what? The truth: uncertainty, sorrow, loneliness made more real by love, impotence, insignificance. Even your death, Lord, has changed so little. What then of mine? ~;ou see my self-consciousness is all that keeps me from consciousness. Make no mistake, I know the grace is there. I know that if I stand silently with outstretched hands you will fill them. For that reason my hands are tightly closed into fists, fists that grasp and cling to every shred of self-consciousness I can find. ~Get behind me, Satan, your ways are not God's but man's." There is so much power in those words. The object of that little outburst of yours was not Peter's remarks but the voice within you that Peter only echoed. Why after all die, to whom will it matter in the end, much less now? I have the same voice in me, it is my voice trying to shout down the voice Of the spirit-seed begging for birth. And so I cry out.with you, "get behind me, self-consciousness." An Allegory on Arising Somewhere an alarm is ringing but I can't seem to wake enough to turn it off. It pulls and tugs at me but I am too groggy to do much more than mutter with swollen tongue still drunk with sleep. I must wake, I tell myself, but my limbs refuse to acknowledge any signals from my duty-bound brain. Of the past Triduum, Good Friday was my best day, of the three the day of greatest wakefulness. It left me eager for the Vigil service--but there it ended, l lie in my tomb thrilling over resurrection but cannot muster the consciousness to rise. I close my eyes to resurrection so that I may return to the opium of my ¯ Commitment: Dying and Rising to Self / 509 dreams. I,know I am dreaming for I know that 1 am unawake. But my sleep-logged body lacks the bouyancy to rise. I sleep on while the alarm rings on. Good Friday and I became such good friends because we spoke the same language: death--only unlike Good Friday, I refused to move on to'Easter Sunday, Each day by my own decree is a Good Friday. For, having to choose between the tomb and wakefulness, I have chosen the tomb. Holy Thursday was too busy for me to find in it any portal to mystery, let alone your presence. But Good Friday loomed like a sudden door in the middle of the service and I entered in. It felt right, necessary. I need to die, to hand myself over to death. But I refuse to enter fully into Good Friday, for from where I stood j,ust inside the threshold I could see that it extended out into Holy Saturday--when the alarm begins to ring--and opened up into Easter Sunday. So there it is, a matrix of transformation, a labyrinth one wanders through to emerge as some new self the old one lost somewhere within. I don't even think I mind the death anymore. It is somehow inevitable and in a sense it has already begun. But in the foreground I can hear the alarm waking me to consciousness even before fully asleep. It is that that scares me. I try to ignore it: can't you tell I'm dead? What do you mean it's time to get up? Do the dead rise and shine? I found in Good Friday an escape from consciousness and feeling but found also the alarm that tries so persistently to raise these unwilling limbs to new life. It does not end on Good Friday. On the third day, it says, he rose again. It took Jesus three days to lose his tug-of-war with God. Obvously you simply weren't trying, l'm proof that the contest can go on much longer. We are told to give our lives over to God as though we were lumps of clay, as though it were an act done once and for all. That is simply not how it is. We are balls of yarn that God slowly pulis, unraveling us and knitting us into something new. The same yarn but a new being--and we don't even get to choose the pattern. And so I hang on as mightily as I can, trying to unravel what God has knitted and rewrap myself into a safely static ball of potential: After all; look at what God did with the "yarn" that was--and is--Jesus. His own friends couldn't recognize him when God got through. So God and I are engaged in a tug-of-war. It took you three days, Lord? Three days to let totally go and be remade? Would that I were as weak. Unfortunately, God does not seem to be as strong as we claim. He is losing, his new creation is losing its shape, slowly being undone. The alarm bids me to stir and awaken, to loosen my hold on myself and let what I am be used up, transformed and brought back as one more patch on a huge and colorful woven mosiac. But now I am talking about Easter. Now I am talking about wakefulness, consciousness, the empty tomb with its wrappings neatly folded and put aside, like sheets and blankets on a bed remade and forgotten during the daylight hours. But I am still wrapped warm within my bed. The tomb is not yet vacant. I cling to my self-consciousness, the self 1 think 1 know and do not want to lose. But despite the sleep, I cannot hold on to myself much longer, the sleep deepens and my grip upon myself loosens. 510 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 God. tugs once more and smiles, "Nothing but a little snag," and goes on knitting making who knows, what to one day soon be sewn into a patchwork of eternity and serve some purpose in a plan not my own. Each day for me is Good Friday and soon Holy Saturday when I will be remade an~ then reappear a stranger, washed ashore on the morning of some Easter Sunday. Reciprocal On top of hell a bluebird sits On an apple branch. A mocking bird's swelling song, Tiptop in a tall cedar, chants A confiteor to such irony. Cows graze in emerald pastures. The sun~ rising red, puts the moon to rest: And morning prayers are said. Below these placid pastures, Below fring.ed acres, --primed and waiting-- Are the missiles, restrained, yet ready To fly whistling seaward, to other Pastures, where other dwellers sit on Top of hell, listening to another Bluebird singing, on an apple branch, A mocking bird trilling, tiptop In a tall cedar. Martha Wickham 560 N. Walnut, Apt~ °1 o Taylorville, IL 62568 Ecclesial Relationships for Religious: Desires and Limits Alexa Suelzer, S.P. This article is the text of the second annual lecture and colloquium sponsored by Review for Religious in conjunction with the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University which took place at the university April 12-13. In the spring of 1983, Sister Alexa was appointed to the special committee of religious formed by Archbishop John Quinn to collaborate with the ponifical commission established to facilitate the pastoral ministry of bishops to religious in this country. Sister Alexa, whose background is in Scripture, has had extensive administrative experience within her own community. She may be addressed as St. Mary-of-the-Woods College; St. Mary-of-the-Woods, IN 47876. Almost a year has passed since John Paul 11 wrote to the bishops of the United States concerning the religious--both men and women--in their dio-ceses and.sent them a document titled Essential Elements in the Church's Teaching on Religious Nfe As Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of ApostolateJ a compendium drawn from pertinent decrees of Vatican H, papal writings, and documents of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. Its authority derives from its sources and from the personal approval of John Paul? Perhaps there was a time when such imposing credentials would preclude criticism--but no more! Reaction from religious has covered the gamut from strong affirmation thro.ugh indifference to angry rejection. One religious' assertion that the teaching affirms her.waY of life is counterbalanced by another's depression at seeing her path questioned. Between these extremes lie varying degrees of agreement and disagreement. It seems safe to say that the enumeration of the indispensable elements (prayer, evangelical witness, and so forth) meets with general acceptance, but description of each of them finds the variety of reactions described. Sometimes the criticism is on peripheral issues: Why single out American religious? ~Why 511 512 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 were the LCWR and CMSM passed by? What is the hidden agenda? At times the criticism stems from misreading the text, e.g., presuming that the "ending of the special period of experimentation," condemns religious life henceforth to the s, tatus quo. At times the language and concepts are faulted as archaic and stereotypical, better suited to an earlier time. More serious are the theological challenges: the failure to realize adequately the evolution of religious life through the centuries, the use of consecration as a master category, the neglect of the prophetic element, and an unsatisfactory eccle-iology. From listening and speaking to religious, both individually, and in groups, I am led to believe that the last name---ecclesiology--is the source of the greatest difficulty. How one receives the document depends in great part upon the view of the Church--the ecclesiology--that is operative, consciously or uncon-sciously, in the reader:. Ecclesiology is assuredly an issue, for relatedness of religious life to the Church is one of the clearest affirmations in Essential Elements. In his letter accompanying the document John Paul refers to this fact in such phrases as "their ecclesial vocation,TM and "specific relation to tile' Church."~ Essential Elements repeats and elaborates these ideas: "Religious life belongs to the life and holiness of the Church. The Church authenticates the gift and mediates the consecration.6 And throughout there is a steady recurrence of phi'ases like "canonically erected by competent ecclesiastical authority";7 "according to constitutions wh'ich the Church, by her authority, accepts and approves";8 or "works of charity entrusted to the institute by the Church and performed in her name.''9 Relationship to the Church is in fact the seventh of the ten essentials named. Some parts of the section bear quoting: Religious life has its own place in relation to the divine and hierarchical structure of the Church. The founders and foundresses of religious institutes ask the hierarchial Church.publicly to authenticate the gift of God on which the existence of the institute depends. In their origins, religious institutes depend in a unique way on the hierarchy. As a particularly rich and important example of these manifold gifts, each religious institute depends for the authentic discernment of its founding charism on the God-given ministry of the hierarchy. This relationship obtains not only for the first recognition of the institute but also for its ongoing development. In short, the Church continues to mediate the conseCratory action of God in a specific way, recognizing and fostering this particular form of consecrated life.t0 Similarly in the section on evangelical witness it is noted that the saving work of Christ is shared by means of the concrete services mandated by the Church 'in the approval of the constitutions,tt The fact of this approval qualifies'the kind of service to be undertaken, since it must be faithful to the Gospel, the Church and the institute.12 ¯ .These statements are explicit to the poi'nt of overkill. They can be seen as a Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / $15 counterbalance (if not a reaction) to the exuberance of post-conciliar years in which the institutional dimension of the Church had been played down, if not denigrated. To understand how this state of affairs came about, it will be helpful to look at events in the field of ecclesiology both during and after the Council: In the first session of Vatican II the proposed schema on the Church offered by the Theological Commission was modeled, on the standard theological treatment of th~ manuals, a treatment laying heavy stress on the juridical and organizational aspects of the Church. Quite early in the debate the Council Fathers realized that the desired definition and description could not be simply in external, hierarchical terms, but the Church must be seen as mystery, that is, as described by Paul V1, a divine reality inserted into history, not fully to be captured by human thought and language. It is an indication of the development of the Church's understanding bf her nature and mission that the bishops turned to a fresh approach which would, be more historical, dynamic, and biblical. After a new draft and a series of revisions during the second and.third sessions, Lumen Gentium, The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church,~3 was approved almost unanimously/and was immediately pro-mulgated, November 21, 1964. ~ The course of theology these past two decades has been charted largely by the insights'of Lumen Gentium. Its pastorial stance, its :use of fresh imagery, and its insistence on the universal c, all to holiness provided a new approach to the role of .the laity. Its presentation of the episcopate (a subject whose discussion had been necessarily cut short~ during the interrupted deliberations of Vatican I) introduced collegiality. And the discussion of the relation between the Church and other Christians led not only to rapprochement with other denominations but, through recognition of the Spirit's action in all men and women, led the Church to a clearer understanding of her own nature and mission. The decision of the Council Fathers to begin their reflection at the level of mystery, and only thereafter consider the visible, hierarchical elements of the Church was not fortuitous. The work of Vatican .II was built on an .ecclesiology which had been developing for the past half century. Nevertheless the Council, by reason of its stature and its pronouncements, gave a definite impetus to subsequent studies in ecclesiology= The topic is a leading one in the system of Karl Rahner. The major post-coriciliar work of Hans Kiing deals with the Church. Edward Schillebeeckx' recent works in Christology followed upon his treatment, over a period of years,of the Church in terms of sacramentality. On the popular level Avery Dulles' Models of the Church helped the non-specialist to appreciate the Church by means of many models, intellectual constructs, each giving a particular insight into the mystery of the Church, never fully to be apprehended by any of the models, or, indeed, by all of them~ Despite the advances of Vatican II and of subsequent ecclesiology, it 5"14 ] Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 should be recognized that the theology of Vatican I1 is transition theology. Lumen Gentium, for example, is filled with fresh insights, but these are seldom developed and their relation to older views--which the Council apparently still espoused--is not always evident. For example, although: Lumen Gentium treated the'x;isible, hierarchical dimension of:the Church only in second place, the institutional element still looms large, partially, of course, because it could be dealt, with in practical, coherent terms. (Probably the Church as institution is still the model in. possession~among the rank and file.) Again, the Council documents speak often of charismata (dona is the word used) but apart from insisting that these must be respected when shown to be genuine, little is said about the. relationship between "the gifts, both hierarchical ,and charismatic"~4 and their interplay. All in all, a kind of nervousness characterizes some postconciliar theology, especially in "official" statements~ a tendency to distrust the initial steps taken by the Council Fathers and to return to the safer paths of neoscholasticism.~5 l.believe Essential Elements shows such a tendency. At the.same time, by its consideration of the Church0primarily as mystery and its subordination of hierarchical to charismatic elements, Lumen Gentium itself supplied ammunition for the kinds of anti-institutional attacks we have witnessed in recent years. By a sort of semantic shift, "institutional, hierarchical Church" is sometimes referred to as.a separate entity over against---even in conflict with--the "charismatic Church?' When such polarization occurs it is easy to neglect or deny the interpenetration of the visible and invisible dimensions. An authentic theology, however, must develop from an under, standing of the Church as a single reality, both visible and invisible, having both hierarchical and charismatic elements. 16 One consequence of polarization can be seen in a renewed emptiasis upon institutional factors, possibly to balance what is, seen as a too enthusiastic espousal of a "spiritual" Church. Such stress is found in Essential Elements, which notes that the Church's hierarchic character proceeds from the headship of Christ,17 and calls deliberate attention to "the divine and hierarchical structure of the Church."~8 Posing the two dimensions one against the other can be avoided by the sacramental recognizing nature of the Church, an aspect Which is treated in a few, but crucial, sections of Lumen Gentium. Its opening paragraph names the Church."a kind of sacrament or;sign of intimate union with God, and of the unity of' all mankind." It insists that the visible assembly and the spiritual community"form one interlocked reality which is composed of a human and a divine element."~9 But here again the insight is not developed and we are not told how the Church is this sign.20 . .0 The-sacramental principle--a distinguishing mark Of Roman Catho-licism- affirms that God works in and through visible, material :reality. The" principle stems from the realization that, since men and women are finite and limited, the divine is available only sacramentally, that is, by mediation. This sacramental encounter is the point of intersection between God and hispeople, an encounter is the point of intersection between God and his people, an Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 515 encounter through which the grace of Christ reaches individuals and communi-ties. As Thomas Aquinas teaches, Jesus Christ is the great sacrament of God's presence and salvific action. Similarly the Church is the sign of Christ and the Spirit's'~healing presence among us. This traditional teaching has been utilized by many contemporary theologians who see in sacramentality a key to understanding the Church and her mission. Essential Elements insists that religious life "in a special way participates in the sacramental nature of the People of God."~1 But even if one considers the Church primarily in sacramental terms, as the document~ purports to do,22 the visible, institutional aspects can be overpowering--and Essential Elements is here a parade example. It is quite possible to accept :fully the principle of mediation and at the same time object to its wholesale application. In the widest sense sacramentality or mediation applies to the realities through, which the transcendent is disclosed and communicated tb us--realities also through which .our responses to the transcendent are experienced. It is in this very broad sense that Essential Elements uses the principle. This extension of the concept of mediation to numerous aspects of religious life meets with strong criticism and resistance. The document is heavily weighted in terms of mediation through the visible Church and her hierarchy. For example, the profession of the counsels is mediated by the Church;23 it is the Church that authenticates and mediates consecration;24 and continues to mediate the consecratory action of God.2~ Further, the document is replete with phrases like "competent ecclesiastical authority".26 ".vows~which the Church receives",~7 and "authority conferred by the Church."~ Additional evidence of the role of mediation can be seen in the emphasis place upon consecration. Following its sources,~9 Essential Elements insists that "the baptismal gift is the. fundamental Christian consecration and is the root of all others.~° With the:same fidelity3~ it notes that religious life is "a partictilar form of consecration."~ Despite the rather frequent use of the word, however, thenotion of consecration is not central in the source documents, as is evident in specifying phrases such as "a certain special consecration."~a (It is noteworthy also that the Council' Fathers rejected De consecratis "Concern- Consecrated Persons"--as a title for the conciliar decree on religious life.) It is somewhat surprising, then; that Essential Elements has seized upon con-secration as the category unde~ which to organize what it has to say about religious life, ~tating explicitly: "Consecration is the basis of religious life,TM and then continuing to use consecration as a leitmotif in almost every subsequent section. This focus is not pleasing to everyone. True, consecration has been an honored concept in the tradition of the Church for long centuries, but it is not a popular focus today. Consecration (setting aside some one or some thing for divine worship and service) smacks of dualism, and introduces dichotomies alien to a contemporary holistic approach to reality. Rightly or wrongly, the term is seen by some as elitist, a perpetuation of the "state of perfection" 516 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 mentality. It can also be argued that a decree.addressed to members of institutes dedicated to works of the apostolate should accord a higher place to mission, even though the document is careful to note that consecration always leads to mission.35 Further, Essential Elements insists that consecration takes place through an ecclesiastical, hierarchical function; Lumen Gentium states that the liturgical setting of religious profession manifests that it is .a state consecrated to God.37' Thus the action of the Church looms large in comparison with the subjective dedication, that commitment is more decisive than its acceptance by the Church through the hierarchy, an acceptance which makes the commitment visibly and publicly ecclesial. In speaking of conse-cration through the profession of the counsels, Perfectae caritatis says that the perfection of the consecration depends on the~stability of the vows or other bonds.38. On the contrary, it should be emphasized that what consecrates is not the vows,o,but the commitment expressed through the vows," which are specification for a life of total dedication. As the documents themselves make clear, totality is the characteristic of religious life. For many .religious the category of discipleship is a far more meaningful biblical paradigm to use in talking about religious life. Critics have asked why such an attractive concept was not utilized more fully, especially in light of the earlier declaration that "since the fundamental norm of religious life is a following of Christ as proposed by the Gospel, such is to be.regarded by all communities as their supreme law."39 Discipleship is a popular theme today; its bibliography--both for religious and Christians in general--grows apace.~° Avery Dulles has revamped his models in favor of the Church as ~i community of disciples; certainly this schema does justice to the elements present in the other models.4~ Essential Elements, however, refers'only briefly~to discipleship: "Formation is the process of becoming more and more a disciple of Christ."42 Possibly the writers chose to stress consecration (even, as we have seen, expanding the comments of its sources) because discipleship is seen a~ a gift and challenge to all the people of God, and to describe religious life as a particular~ form of discipleship might not provide a sufficient distinction. Consecration, of course, implies discipleship. As already noted; the authen-ticity of the consecration depends upon the. genuine commitment of the subject, that is, upon the acceptance of the demands of a life of discipleship. Critics may be right in holding that the emphasis on consecratio.n--neces~arily external' and involving mediation--may obscure the element of personal decisions and dedication as well as invite unneeded supervison from without. Consecraton can become a mere rite--something that is done to me, Anrther aspect Essential Elements chose not to treat is the prophetic nature of religious life. Here the document imitates the reserve of its sources. Considering the prophetic role of the people of God Lumen Gentium notes only that . ¯ the holy People ofGod shares also in Christ's prophetic office. It spreads abroad a " living witness to him, especially by a life of faith and:charity and by offering tO God a Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 517 sacrifice of praise, the tribute of lips which give honor to his name.43 Nowhere does it elaborate this theme. In the subsequent chapter on religious the many riches of their life are noted, but without specific mention of a prophetic function.'~ Essential" Elements does not go beyond its sources, although some paragraphs in the section on witness show a prophetic stance.45 Conciliar documents and subsequent pronouncements have made a studied effort to avoid defining too closely the essence of ~'eligious life. Despite the emphasis it places upon consecration Essential Elements calls tfiis the basis not the essence, of religious life. Public vows, consecration, life in community all these are described and discussed but with no affixing of strict labels. Given the evolution of religious life over the centuries (the shift from eremetical to cenobitical forms, the role of poverty, the concept of mediated obedience, the juridical nature of religious commitment)° it would be foolhardy to fasten upon any one of these important elements as everywhere and at all times essential to religious life. What the°history of religious life does make clear is that this way of life is created by a person's total dedication to God in an' exclusive relationship. Early monks were described (and later defined) as completely ded!cated to God and totally oriented to his service. To become a monk was identical with giving oneself over to God. Later St. Thomas insisted on the totallgift of one's life as the hallmark of religious life. Celibacy, renunciation, eventually mediate~d obedience all were expressions of the interior commitment to live entirely for God. The religious brings the commitment common to all Christians to the level of a lifestyle. As the core of such a life is the personal decision to respond, to the internally received vocation. Vatican II acknow-ledged this interpretation, affirming that the religious is "totally dedicated to God and is committed to the honor and service of God under a new and special title."46 Perfectae carita~is speaks of "self-surrender involving their entire lives,"47 and "a call to live for God alone."~8 Essential Elements picks up on the same note, speaking of a "profound and free self-surrender."49 The religious "dedicates the whole of life.to God's service."~0 In reflecting on the relative merits of consecration and discipleship as the better paradigm for clarifying religious life, it is ~vell to remember that all our descriptions and discussioris are part. of the history of a form of life which is still evolving. The definitive word on the Church has yet to be. spoken; how much more so for religious life! Surely there is room for more than one view. Given the conservative (preservative) nature of religious writing in general, the document of n~cessity shows a rootedness in .th+ past and a somewhat unwilling concession to the exigencies of the contempo~rary scene. But it has definitely advanced beyond positions of twenty years ago, evincing a greater understanding of different styles of community life, of the need for new forms of service, the mutuality of authority and obedience, and the nature and scope of format~.on. De.spite shortcomings, it is a document we can live and work with. 5111 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 But each of us comes to the reading of Essential Elements with particular baggage of our own baggage which may lead us to accept or reject the document out of hand. I would now like to consider some of the obstacles in the way of an honest approach to Essential Elements. Today we hear a great deal about tension: tension headaches and tensions between the super-powers; harmful tensions and creative tensions; interpersonal and intrapersonal tensions. It is the last-n~med--intrapersonal--that I want to speak aboui. All of. us necessarily operate with inner tensions which can be destructive or helpful depending on how successfully we achieve a creative balance. Most ofour specific tensions can be gro.uped under the master category of a tension between the world of desire and the world of limitsP~ A consideration of this topic may furnish some insights on our attitude to the Church in general and to Essential Elements in particular. It does noi require much reflection on the data of our experience to show that human thoughts and feelings oscillate between the poles of great expectations--for ourselves and our world and a depressed.recognition of the barriers imposed by our finiteness. Lumen Gentium says it well: ¯ . tl~e modern world shows itself at once powerful and weak. capable of the noblest deeds or the foulest . The truth is that the imbalances under which the.modern world labors are.linked with that more basic imbalance rooted in the heart of man. For ~n man 'himself many elements wrestle with each other. Thus. on the one hand? as a creature he experiences his limitations in a multitude of ways. On the other, he feels himself to be boundless in his desires and summoned to a higher life.52 The language of Lumen Gentium is abstract and non-specific, but practical examples from everyda3~ life are not lacking, The realm of desires is the realm of imagining, questioning, fantasizing--outside space and time where the human spirit meets no fixed limits. We can thirst to be theacme of beauty or charm, to attain all wealth or knowledge, to abolish in~hstice and brifig peace to the world. No sooner do we pe,rceive something to be good than we can desire it. But the moment we attempt to actualize our desire we meet limits, for every acl of choice is an act of self-limitation as well. Some of these limits are built in: our sex, race, nationality. Others are products of our environment, training and education. Our desire for knowledge is contained by our mental ability, educationai opportun!ties or financial status. We can be overwhelmed by these' limits and refuse to work at transcending them or we can unrealistically deny their existence and embark on a Faustian venture doomed to failure. We mu~t have a healthy ~respect for limitations, but not settle for them. Conversely, like Daniel we must bemen and women of desire, aspiring to'excellence, but aware of limits, l~esires and limits interact: they test, correct and sustain each other. in a particular situation, however, we may deny one or the other and fail to hold them in creative (ension. We haay objectify our boundaries, making a value of our very limitations. Or we may objectify our aspirations, setting them Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 5"19 forth as values in themselves and refusing to acknowledge any restrictions upon them.53 Briefly, and perhaps simplistically, a religious with a strongly institutional view of the Church may hold such a position through a kind of mindless loyalty which relieves her or him of responsibility for life decisions. Likewise the one who places no curb upon personal autonomy and independence may dismiss outright directives coming from hierarchical sources. The refusal to transcend limits or the failure to acknowledge them results in a harmful imbalance leading to depression, anger and arrogance. Some examples will illustrate our subject at hand relatedness to the Church. In the first place, we come up against the need to find a balance between desires and limits as we reflect upon the respective demands of tradition and experience. T.S. Eliot has observed that the mature poet must possess the historical sense--a perception not only of the past as past but of its, abiding presence: the poet must write with all of Europe in his bones.54 This kind of interaction is hard to come by, the more so in contemporary society. Our age of pluralism and personalism stresses, and quite rightly, the role of experience in living responsibly. Pope John noted this in his opening address .to the Vatican Council: ¯. the spirit of the ~,hole world expects a step forward toward a doctrinal penetration and a formation of consciousness ~n faithful and perfe~:t conformity to the authentic doctrine, which, however, should be studied and expounded through the methods ofo research and through the literary forms of modern thought. The substance of the ancient deposit of faith is one thing; the way in which it is presented is another.5~ Contemporary iheology¯in general works to correlate the classic formula-tions of faith with today's experience of salvation, a task involving past and present, tradition and experience in a process which is the pro.duct, not of caprice or whim. but of a.reflecting faith communityP6 In the particular theology of religious life we must bring our own experience to bear on the received teaching about that life. Ideally interaction should result, but realistically one or other element tradition or experience may be minimized or denied. A religious may place such restrictions on consulting the data of experience that he becomes frozen in the past. If the only thing necessary is to rec~ix~e a pat:adigm of religious life from others--whether the constitutions of my institute or hierarchical pronouncements--then personal experience is of small moment. Life then becomes a constant, perhaps defiant, reiteration of tradition. Personalism. pluralism, consultation of experience are all regarded as a betrayal of religious life. When a document like Essential Elements is received it is absorbed but held apart from the events in life which legitimately modify its content. On the other hand, a religious can objectify her own experience, making it the primary judge of reality, canonizing it to the point of neglect or denial Of the place of tradition in religious life, with a consequent dismissal of whatever does not accord with individual experience. But raw experience has little value. T.S. Eliot mourns,."We have had the experience but missed the meaning.'~7 Constitutions must do more than describe contemporary experience; they 590 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 must submit that experience to the light of the Gospel and traditional teaching concerning religious life. An oft-repeated criticism of Essential Elements is its failure adequately to acknowledge "the American e.~xperience," both the impact of democracy upon the experienc~e of religious life'in general, and the more specific American experience of the past two "decades of adaptation and renewal. Religious everywhere exist within the context of a particular culture which profoundly affects and shapes their lives. In the United States these past twenty years have witnessed the effort to articulate a form of religious life which is genuine and at the same time inculturated, that is, disengaged from the structures and customs of the past and brought into' line with contemporary American life. Inculturation is a desideratum, but so is "counterculturation," particularly for religious. Once again we .are in the world of desires and limits. The requirement~ of a culture often lead to a re-interpretation of the founder's charism. But not all elements of a culture are compatible with the Gospel; some are hostile. For authentic religious life there must be a continuing dialogue between the Gospel and its cultural expression. Let us look at another example. The Council calls us to be a pilgrim people, wayfaring Christians who have here no lasting ~ity. But the attitude proper to a pilgrim is threatened by the nester (who wants to move not at all) and by the rover (for whom change is the very stuff of life). The nester is all too willing to stay put. Religious 'who ' welcome the document's stre~s upon corporate mission, seeing in it the preservation of the founder's charism and an assurance of Church approval, need to reflect whether such l~oyalty does not stem from an exaggerated nesting instinct which makes thefia satisfied with limitations, freeing them from the risk of other works or from~the challenging forms of community and prayer which new tasks might demand. Nesters t~est comfortably in their limits, taking a passive stance and opting for the security provided by familiar structures. Nesters are often hard workers, but comfort and security, not challenge and growth, are their expectations of religious life. The kingdoffi °lSossesses for them no sense of urgency. Because such persons often do not think for themselves, they readily go along with the crowd and compromise values if this will help mairitain the status quo. To move frbm nester to pilgrim the situation must be acknowledged~ for what it is: a refusal to transcend limits and take responsibility for life. Such recognit.ion brings freedom to move beyond self, freedom to become a genuine pilgrim. Rovers too have difficulty balancing desires and limits, but of a different kind. Such religious entertain exaggerated notions of what (hey or their institute could accomplish if freed from hierarchical trammels. In warnings about scattering resources over too many works the rovers see only an encouragement of timid mediocrity and they are resentful of anyone who suggests parameters to their utopian schemes. Moving from project to project, they are voluble about what they are against--less clear about what they stand Ecclesial Relationships for Religious / 521 for. Destructive anger is often operative under the guise of zeal for the kingdom and service for the oppressed. A true pilgrim spirit cannot be attained without recognizing the poverty imposed by limitations. Johannes Metz observes: Through the transcendental expanse of his spirit, man lives in the open air. in the future of unlimited possibilities. His task is not to lose himself there, 15ut to make something of himself through them. He makes them his potentialities by his historically unique and irrevocable personal decision, through which he finds a foothold in the th~:ust of his existence. Doubtless we could multiply instances of such tensions within us. Let a final eXample serve as summary: the struggle between self-fulfillme~nt and self-transcendence. Thanks to developments in philo.sophy and the behavioral sciences our society has passed from institutionalism to personalism,,from an often static essentialism to existentialis.m. Religious life has reflected these changes. As novices many of us were "trained" (and the word is significant) in a traditional ethic Of self-denial and conformity; now we are confronted with healthful challenges to personal growth through responsible decision-making. Where once we awaited assignment at the discretion of the superior, now our gifts, our talents---even our preferences--are consulted and respected. The insights of psychology tell us that much of the discipline of the past--the asceticism, penitential practices, total-institution structures--was not the excellent means for personal development we once thought. Scores of institutes have mounted extensive programs: workshops in psychology, assertiveness training, human potential and the like--all dedicated to the self-actualization of the religious. This is to the good. Religious who were formerly content to let life happen to them, with limits imposed' by institutional structures and custom, have awakened to a sense:of freedom, responsibility and renewed vitality. They can now rejoice in new ways of acting unfettered by pessismism] legalism or guilt. But the journey°to self-fulfillment has pitfalls of its own. The goods of p~rsonal growth and independence can assume top rank in a hierarchy of objectified, individualistic values. The movement to actualize human potential can be trivialized tb the point of a petulant "doing my thing." Poised against the desire fore fulfillment is the Gospel call to conversion and self-transcendence. Behavioral scientists ask how the self of psychology and the self of the Gospel can be reconciled and some of them see no possibility of this. An easy appeal to the slogan, "The glory of God is man fully alive," would seem to suggest that the path of self-actualization is the only one we need to ~follow. But Jesus' directives about denying oneself, taking up the cross and even dying are still normative for the Christian. The dichotomy between self-fulfillment and the demands of Christian spirituality can be bridged only by a transcendence that reaches beyond both self-actualization and self-denial. Our deepest yearnings-- the desire for meaning, truth, value, love---can be satisfied only when we shift our primary focus from our personal needs and desires to the needs of others. It is to such transcendence that John Paul calls the whole Church, but 522 / Review for Religious, July-August, 1984 especially us religious, inviting us to live more intensely .the mystery of the redemption. It is a call to holiness and renewal, a call to penance and conversion.59 In practical terms the call requires objective and humble evaluation of our life. We can of course choose not to heed this particular appeal. ,We can receive the document as an unwelcome and unwarranted admonition, spend our timelooking for the hidden agenda, fault the document for its omissions and commissions. In such case we have'had the experience but missed the meaning. ~ Essential Elements is an authoritative document, but not a definitive one. Like Lumen Gentium it does not canonize the past nor consecrate tl~e present but prepa.res for the futui'e, not least of all by reason of the fruitful dialogue it can initiate. A healthy realism shows that we are all, hierarchy and religious alike, part of a sinful Church, semperformanda et reformanda. We manifest the mystery of the Lord "ina faithful though shadowed Way.'~0 Let us work to remove the shadows so that we may become those "blazing emblemsTM of the kingdom in a Church which is truly lumen gentium, the light of the world. NOTES ~Hereafter, Essential Elements or EE. The edition used is that of the Daughters of St. Paul, Boston, 1983. ~lts application must be made with due regard for the principles applicable to all magisterial pronouncements. These principles, however, are not always clear. Karl Rahner notes, ~Theology has shown relatively little interest in a more nuanced answer to the question of the proper and permissible relationship of, the average Catholic to the official teaching of the Ch,,urch." See Rahner and K-H. Weger; Our Christian Faith: Answer for the Future (New ~ork: Crossroad, 1981), p. 125. 3EE. 2. 4Lette~ of John Paul II in EE, 4. 51bid. 3. 6EE, 8. 71bid, 10:, 81bid, II. 91bid; 12. ~01bid, 38, 40, 41, 42. ~qbid, 24. ~21bid ~3Hereafter,'LG. The sohrce for this and other documents of Vatican !I is Walter M. Abbott, ed., The Documents of Vatican !! (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966)~ ~4LG, 4. ~sSee Karl Rahner,~Concernfor the Church, Theological Investigations, XX, tr. E. Quinn (New York: Crossroad. 1981), pp, 94--97, ~6"~he disjunctive use of these terms is unfortunate. Karl Rahner notes that "the official element in the Church has a ~zharismatic element. For it is evident that the gifts of the Spirit can only be regulated by a gift of the Spirit. In other words any attempt to regard the official and charisma

Issue 36.5 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edaed by faculty members of St LOUIS University, the editor,al offices being located at 612 Humboldt Braiding, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1977 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW 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. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor September 1977 Volume 36 Number 5 Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW Fon REL1c~ous; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts andbooks for review should be sent to REVXEW YOn REL~CIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. The First Week of the Spiritual Exercises and the Conversion of Saint, Paul Carolyn Osiek, R.S.C.J. Sister Carolyn is on the faculty of Catholic Theological Union, Chicago, where she teaches New Testament. Most recently, she had been Research/Resource Associate in Women's Studies at H~rvard Divinity'School. Her address: Catholic Theological Union; 5401 S. Cornell; Chicago, IL 60615. The title ~ays in a general way the topic of this article. Actually, however, it is somewhat the other way around, for another way of expressing the topic would be: Paul's decisive "First Week" experience, or, the "First Week" in the life of Paul. The present investigation Will be an attempt to focus, examine, and understand the personal experience of Paul which parallels and reflects the process experienced and planned by Ignatius for his followers in what he later came to call the "First Week" of the Spiritual Exercises. There are some obvious limitations to such an undertaking. First, if as is generally accepted, Paul's initial conversion experience took place some-time between 33-36 A.D., and if what is preserved of his Philippian, Ga-latian, and Corinthian correspondence was written between the years 54 and 57 from Ephesus, there is a 20 year gap between the.experience and the description. 1 Second, Paul had no intention of writing an autobiography.' He alludes to his own spiritual experience only insofar as it helps him convey ~The chronology of the letters is disputed. Here I follow J. A. Fitzmyer, "A Life ~Jf Paul," Jerome Biblical Commenthry, ed. R. E. Brown. J. A. Fitzmyer. R. E. Murphy (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.:Prentice Hall, 1968), pp. 218, 221. 657 6511 / Review for Religious, .Volume 36, 1.,977/~5 his point to others, usually in terms of the bankruptcy of the Mosaic laW vis-a-vis the grace of Christ--a religious situation far removedin actuality from the experience of most of us, whatever figurative applications can be made. Third, the one source in which Paul's spiritual conversion-is graph-ically and formally portrayed (in triplicate)--Acts 9:22 and 26~could be utilized in a consideration of New Testament theology of conversion, but in the light of modern scriptural source criticism cannot responsibly be used to shed light on Pauline spirituality or spiritual experience. Some of the elements picked up by Luke in.his triple narrative will be used as illustrative of the Pauline experience in the wider dimension of familiar religious symbols, but it must be kept in mind that for Paul they are secondary. This brings us to a statement of the broader scope of the present under-taking. The purpose of the investigation is not historical. If it were, it could well stop with the Pauline data. Rather, the full scope is an attempt to understand Paulis wounding and healing as exemplary of a common spir-itual journey through death to new life for a purpose. The expanded ar- .ticulation of that process is drawn from personal experience as retreatant and as a spiritual director. It might be well to begin by describing the structure of the "First Week' '~ process as it will be treated here. Basically it is a movemrrit of entering into death in Order to have life, of descending into the depths 0nly to find there new inspiration to arise, of going down with the old and familiar and coming up in newness, as the ancient ritual of baptism by immersion so clearly portrays. It is wodnding and healing, alienation and reconciliation as the person comes face to face first with human evil and then with divine good-ness. Precisely where these two currents cross is the point of greatest pain because the comparison becomes nearly unehdurable. But out of the con-flict engen.dered by that pain comes the energy to begin anew, and thus the paradoxical cycle of death and rebirth is once again lived out. Ignatius' term -confusion" is not a bad word to describe the growing sense that something is wrong, both in its literary meaning of "shame" and especially in its more common sense of "losing one's bea.rings." There are three stages that can occur as defenses are stripped away and the sense of confusion sharpens. Ignatius described these three stages one way in n. [63] of the Exercises: first, a deep knowledge of-pers~onalo sin and a feeling of abhorrence; second, an understanding of the "disorder of my actions" and a resulting feeling of horror; third, a. knowledge of the sinfulness of the world ~.and, again, a.sense of horror. Abhorrence and horror are strong enough terms, yet they imply a primacy of activity on the part of the retreatant though, it must be added, the grace to have such feelings is clearly seen as something to be asked of and freely bestowed by God. The terminology used by Ignatius here, at least as we can understand it four centuries later, does not adequatrly desc.ribe the passive nature of the First Week experience as it is sometimes encountered when, without active The Spiritual Exercises and the Conversion of Paul / 659 pursuit of desire for sorrow for sin, and so forth, rational defenses and affective supports ~reviously relied upon suddenly disappear. Disorienta-tion deepens as awareness of sin increases. The revelation of sinfulness progresses; as Ignatius.described it, in three stages. The first is that of felt guilt over specific acts for which the person is respohsible, guilt that has been accumulating perhaps over a long period of time, the full impact of which suddenly bursts forth with unexpectedly painful sharpness as the reti'eatant faces God and himself in solitude. Crnfusion is balanced only by the fi~m witness of the mercy and forbearance of God in allowing the person t~J come to this point. The second stage occurs if the layer of the conscious mind can be sufficiently peelea off to-reveal the underlying basic tendencies to evil for which a perso~n is only partly responsible at the conscious level. The feeling of confusion, pain,, a~nd alienation increases and a ne'w factor eri(ers in: helplessness-sthe inability to do what one Would want to do about vast areas of life. ,;The realization deepens that one is unable to Consciously regulate tendencies to grab for security, love, and control that diminish both victims and subject. The person is painfully aware of not being in control of his own motivation. At this point feelings of guilt mix with a newly discovered fear of one's own innate destructiveness. Mistrust of oneself can be countered by trust in the God who has kept him from becoming worse than he is. In the third stage the probe of the ~pirit goes deeper still until it reaches the 16vel at which personal responsibility is no longer at stake. It is .the experience of total powerlessn~ess, helplessness, total inability to act in any way.to save oneself. The forces of disintegration seem to be triumphing and God seems to have left the person totally to his own resources which have consequently cru'mbled. Here it is no longer a question of guilt and merc~,, but of the ability to live with fear and to cling to some memory of the love of God. The familiar theological maxim that God sustains all things in existence at every moment becomes a crushing reality, for the person is This "confusion." flowing from the sense of being judged by God, is not the result of a rational process: it is total loss of face before a situation which cannot be long endured with the usual supports of reason and prudence. We find ourselves con-fronted by ttie cross of Christ placed in the presence of unmeasuredness itself, that which is "madness to the world" (I Co 1:23).2 Z"La 'confusion.' fruit spirituel de cejugement divin, n'est pas le r~sultat d'une argumenta- 'tign logique: elle est perle totale de contenance, devant une situation qui pr~cis~ment ne peut ~tre plus Iongte.mps support~e avec !es ressources habituelles de la raison et de la pru-dence. ~Nous voici, devant la Croix du Christ. mis ,en presence de la d~mesure m~me, qm est 'folie l~our le monde" (I Cor 1:23) . La premiere semaine des Exercices." Christus, vol. 6. no. 21 (1959), pp. 22-39 (translation mine). 660 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 sure that nothing within himself is preserving his being, .and yet it seems to be God himself wh6 is crushing him. Ignatius understood [53] that only the total powerlessness of Christ on the cross as he is destroyed by force.s beyond human control can give any meaning to this experience, W. de Broucker describes this state of soul in a way that sums up the whole triple movement: It is precisely the attitude expressed by the dying Chris.t that marks the beginning of the movement upward: "Into your hands I commit my spirit." Surrender into the hands of God, the cessation of struggle against the force that seems to be annihilating the self, goes against the basic instinct of human nature. It is natural for us "to fight for life, to hang on tenuously to the familiar. If the shred of self that is left can be given up, a new self can be formed. With surrender comes trust that there is someone or something to surrender to, and that something other than total chaos can result. Once trust has been given, a dim hope can begin to arise, an assurance that dawn will~ome and that a reason for the suffering and death of the experience may be that something greater is coming to birth. With a new confidence given to the force that is at work within, further insight into one's personal responsibility may result. There may be deep-ened realization of how one's total helplessness before God, now a.~vivid reality, creates subconscious defenses in the form of root tendencies to turn away from God in order to avoid pain, conflict, or unwelcome truth. New awareness of personal orientation away from God then leads to a whole new outlook about personal sinfulness. The avoidance, neglect, anxiety, and self-seeking expressed in everyday~life as sin are seen with much more understanding and insight into one's personal motivation.s and weaknesses. At this point a healing of pain and guilt can take place and the mercy of God becomes an invading presence _bringing with it the experience of reconcil-iation leading to a deep sense of peace and eventually of joy. The new clarity of understanding leads inevitably, for the person who remains faithful in following the new way where God is'leading, to a trans-formation of attitude and behavior. This transformation is a psychiC and spiritual change that invades the whole person, btit rarely does it happen all at once. It involves the abandoning of certain accepted values and untried assumptions regarding personal autonomy, perception of truth, or need for affectivity. Realization of what God is asking in these areas and consequent surrender and acceptance of change usually happen gradually over a period of at least several months. What is happening simultaneously is the ac-quisition of a new set of personal values to replace the old ones, values usually founded on sharpened awareness of the fragility and weakness of the self and a deep sense of awe an~d gratitude at the ways that God's power is at work in weakness. Mary Esthei- Harding describes the psychological change that is taking place at this point: The Spiritual Exercises and the Conversion of Paul / 661 Whenever there is an upsurge of highly activated unadapted material into conscious-ness, the task of assimilation becomes urgent. This holds true whether the new material is valuable, creative stuff or merely alchaic phantasy that bespeaks more a morbid exuberance than a prolific creativity. The assimilation of the new material demands a fresh standpoint, which implies a recognition of the relativity of all former judgments. What was formerly considered unqualifiedly good must'now be judged in the light of,the new and enlarged understanding; the same must be done with that which has been considered bad? The whole experience might be summarized as an awareness of: the goodness of God gratitude sinful actions guilt. need for mercy, forgiveness sinful tendencies fear struggle need to experience love of God powerlessness surrender trust hope And a new awareness of: sinful tendencies new awareness of mercy love motivqtion for sinful power of God acts , need to change There follows a healing and reconciliation peace, joy and a gradual transformation of values, attitudeS, behavior As 'was stated at the beginning, the primary focus of this paper is the spiritual experience of Paul, aRd the previous discussion of the process is by ~ay of setting the stage. Patil's change Of heart is classically spoken of as a "conversion;" The limitation inherent in the use of this term is the restricted sense in which the word is most often used: change of faith or religion or, somewhat more broadly, emendation of a wayward moral life, while the root meaning of the word "conversion' ~ is really something closer to an "about face~'--a total turning of the person from one orientation to another. While Paul's "conversions" certainly did entail a change of reli-gious affiliation, though probably not a change of moral conduct, it must be Understood. primarily in the broadest sense of the term, as a complete overthrow and turn-about of personal values. Because of the ambiguities aPsychic Energy: Its Source and Its Transformation, 2nd ed. Bollingen Series X (Washington, D.C.: Pantheon, 1963), p. 285. 662 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 present.in the word "conversion," it might be preferable to ~pe~ak of the "transformhtion" of Paul in his encounter with the li~,ing Christ.4 Contrary to, what much p0pu,!ar arid undiscrimina.ting piety (and perhaps even the a~uthor of Acts)would,have us think, Paul's transformation did not happen.overnight or even in three days as a careless reading of Acts 9:18-30 might suggest. Paul himself speaks of three years (Ga 1:18).~tran~spiring before he began to preach Christ. There is no reason' to suppose that the process moved along with remarkable speed. We tend to clothe Paul's transformation~ixperien~e in'a thick ~overirig of the miraculous, leaning too heavily on the clear triple account of Acts and too lightly on Paul's own illusive comments. The flash of light, the heavenly voice of the reveals/r, Paul's being struck to the ground, and the mysterious three-day blindness are all stock elements of narrations of divine epiph-anies. For some, miraculous revelations are a stumblingblock and a source of conflict. But for most people today, they are something else: an invitation to disregard. And so what happens°is that someone like Paul, who leaps out at us so humanly in his own writings, becomes relegated to the dim past, to the gallery of "saints" who are not quite as human as the rest of us, to the realm of the "supernatural" dichotomized from that realm in which we ourselves live and struggle. The reason for all this is 'not surprising: we do not have to have the uncomfortable experience of seeingourselves reflected in such a "saint." The ways of God with humanity are as varied as are the persons who seek to know them, and yet there are qualities of our common humanity that remain very much the same. It is for this reason that an analysis'of the transformation process a~ given above, and an attempt to see that process as it happened in Paul are worthwhile. We may be able to see something of ourselves in him and so better understand the ways of God in us. It is a mistake to think of Paul as changing f.rom hardened persecutor to egthusiastic mystic, from~his, blind cruelty to a Christian sensitivity, as though: his transformation, were from sinner to saint. Paul was not a hard man; .he was a sincere and generous man. His pursuit of Christians sprang 4An important article or] the structure and Western interpretations o"f Paul's conversion ex-perience appeared long ~go and attracted considerable nOtice in Protestant Scholarly circles, coming as it did out of a Lutheran interpretation of~Paul; I refer to Krister Stendahl'.s "The Apostle Paul and the Introspective Conscience of the West," Harvard Theglogical:Revi~ew 56:3 (July, 1963), pp. 199-215, an article well worth reading. In recent conversation betwe_en the author arid rfiyse!f there was agreement about Paul's "clear conscience" regarding his former way of life in Judaism (see ~specially pp. 200-201); however, I would not want to stress the idea of "introspection" as the search for personal sin, but would rather emphasize the seeking after awareness of God's action within the person. In contrast to Dean Stendahl's interpretation (pp. 204-205) I would distinguish two aspects of Paul's change of ways: first, a personal transformation, and second, the directing of that new energy toward evange Jzat~on of the Gentiles. The Spiritual Exercises and the Conversion of Paul / 663 not from cruelty but from enthusiasm in the service of God. He was the good and tlpright man whom the Lord loved, and because the Lord loved hii~ so much, he called him to give more. Paul says of himself (Ph 3:5-6) that his family and religious credentials were impeccable and that he had done far more than the minimum required to be a son of the Law. He was without fault in itg r~gard,'fully aware of its value as gift bestowed upon Is-rael as a proof bf God's love. Hi~ sincere thirst for justice miast have led him periodically into the self-scrutiny of the just which produces an awa(eness of personal failings anti sinful tendencies that only deepens devotion as it deepens-an ap~areciation of God's mercy. ,.Then something happened. Whether his encounter with the living Christ was as dramatic as Acts 9 portrays it is doubtful, for Paul nowhere alludes to~,,his experie]ace as containing elements of the sensational,but rather de-scribes it qui[e simply: "Have I not seen Jesus our Lord?" (1 Co 9:1); "I did not receive [the gospel] from a human source nor was I.taught by any but a revelation from Jesus Christ" (Ga 1:12); "God who had set me aside from my mother's womb called me through his grace and revealed his son in me" (Ga 1:15; see Is 49:1; Jr 1:5). There is an undeniable sense of personal encounter and ,call, even for a specific mission, but ~very little impression of fanfare. He found himself at point zero, knocked off his horse more internally than externally, with no patterned defenses or conditioned responses to fall back on that had not been stripped away by a new presence that was relentlessly pursuing him. ,When the realization of whathad happened began to take hold of him, Paul knew he had been changed. Luke's image of blindness approximates in physical.terms what must have been his psychic,state for a period of time: confusion, loss, fear, inner chaos, spiritual paralysis, the terrifying~feeling that hig whole world was coming apart. As he began to surrender to the force that was invading him, he would have become aware that it was a new and unwelcome presence that of Jesus of Nazareth, suddenly: intruding upon his well-ordered world. This is in fact the heart of the experience of brokenness: that Christ manifests himself in a new and unexpected way, and before his demanding presence all pre-conceived structures of life must be put aside. '~ Onc~ he had accepted what was happening, he would have begun to see h~ms~lfin a new way, feeling within himself the slowi3i-dawning and terrible realization that he had misplaced his devotion and misdirected his zeal, the frustration of knowing for the first time that he had beeri turned in a di-rection which, in the light of a new awareness, he had to judge as the wrong way. New understanding Would .have brought about new se'lf-knowledge and a new capacity for radical honesty about the movements of his life, enveloped in deepened awe at the sustaining and patient love of God re-vealed in Christ who was now calling into question the whole meaning of his life. ,664 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 The realization that the love of God has been constant when our re-sponse has been anything but constant, that his forgiveness was extended even before we knew for what to ask it, can be a crushing blow from which the security of the ego never fully recovers. The wound inflicted on it is not cured, as if the tearing never happened; rather, it is healed, brought to new wholeness- not in spite of, but because of the rending. As is often the case, Paul's healing and reconciliation with God were not for his sake only., but that he might lead many others to the same point: "The love of Christ overwhelms us when we realize that one died for all., so that the living should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again., for everything is from God who has reconciled us to himself through Christ and given us the ministry of reconciliation" (2 Co 5:14-18). What is cautiously born then is a'self that must undertake the painful task of she~lding and leaving behind as so much debris much that the former self deemed of value, in order to make room for new value to come. In the case .of Paul the reversal which he had to endure to be faithful to newly-given grace was dramatic and loaded with not only personal but also social consequences: "But whatever was formerly gain to me, I have com~ to consider it loss because of Christ; mor.eover, I now consider everything loss because of the overwhelming knowledge of Jesus Christ my Lord, for whom I have let go of eve~:ything and consider it rubbish in order to gain Christ and be counted with him" (Ph 3:7-9). For him it meant giving up a worldview, religious affiliation, a certainty of being right, a reputation, family and friends, the whole fabric of personal and social relationships that had formed the pattern of his life. Few are called to so drasti6.a change. Yet the most fundamental change must have been one with which many can resonate: the need to reconstruct from broken fragments.a new self, a much more fragile self, like an earthenware jar hollowed out at the center in which "the overflowing power comes from God and not from us" (2 Co 4:7). It is the need to understand and accept the voice of Christ addressed to the prostrate human spirit, "My grace is enough, for strength is brought to fullness in weakness," and to respond by saying, "Joyfully then I will openly share my weakness so that the power of Christ may be revealed through me" (2 Co 12:8-9). It might be argued that the above account of Paul's conversion .and transformation is a fanciful extrapolation based on insufficient data. Yet the essential human experience underlying it is so basic and .universal that no matter in how many myriad forms it is manifested, a true experience of transformation from one spiritual state to another (as opposed to a super-ficial "conversion" that is only temporary because self-induced) has certain fundamentally similar components. Certainly Paul's experience was a trans-formation of this kind. Though he leaves many things unsaid, the pain and fear, the bewildering search, and ultimately the ecstasy of discovering that it is precisely in crucifying weakness that the power of the risen Christ is manifested, come through in the few literary traces he has left. The Spir!tual Exercises and the Converison of Paul / 665 For Paul transformation meant a radical break with the past, with family, home, and faith. For most of us, the break is not so abrupt, and yet the need to abandon old habits of thinking and feeling to make room for new ones still only dimly perceived is a common element. Spiritual directors are plentiful these days, but guides and models in one's spiritual experience are not always easy to come by. An ability to find echoes of one's own life in the jolting experience of Paul may give encouragement and be a cause for that movement of hope in darkness which affirms with him that no matter how chaotic may be the experience of finding out what we really are, for the person who continues trying to hang on the way Christ has hung onto him neither height of blind pride nor depth of despair--both of which can co-exist in the same person--nor any creature of the imagination can ever wrench us away from the love of God that is expressed to us in Christ Jesus our Lord.5 ~See Ph 3:12; Rm 8:39. REPRINTS FROM THE REVIEW Profile of the Spirit: A Theology of Discernment of Spirits by J. R. Sheets, S.J. .50 Retirement or Vigil by B. Ashley, O.P. .30 The Confessions of Religious Wom~en by Sr. M. Denis, S~.O.S. 30 The Four Moments of Prayer by J. R. Sheets, S.J. .50 The Healing of Memories by F, Martin .35 The Nature and Value of a Directed Retreat by H. F. Smith, S.J . 35 The Teaching. Sister in the Church by E. Gambari, S.M.M. .30 The Theology., of the Eucharistic Presence by J. Galot, S.J. .30 The Vows and Christian Life by G. Greif, S.J. .30 New Reprints° Centering Prayer--Prayer o~ Quiei by M. B. Pi:nnington, O.C.S.O .50 Colloquy of God With a Soul That Truly Seeks Him .30 Prayer of Personal Reminiscence by D. J, Hassel, S.J. .60 Orders for the above should be sent to: Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 No. Grand Blvd. St. Louis, MO 63103' Please include remittance with all orders less than $5.00 A Theology of the Religious Life Local Church and Ladislaus Orsy, S.J. Father Orsy teaches Canon Law at the Catholic University of America. He resides at Carroll House; 1225 Otis St. N.E.; Washington, DC 20017. The text of this article is the keynote address given in New Orleahs at the annual convention of the National Conference of Vicars for Religious, on March 21, 1977. The notes were added later to try to dispel some ambiguities in the text and, elucidate further the author's mind. Saint Thomas Aquinas introduced one of his famous works with the Sen-tence: "A small error in the beginning leads to a great one in the end.''1 In the same spirit of wise caution we can say that the wrong question ~n thee beginning is likely to lead to the wrong answer at the end. Let us transform, therefore, the terse words of the title, "A :Theology of the Local ChUrch and Religious Life," into a question rightly construed, that can lead us securely in our inquiry toward the ans~ver~s that we do not know at the point of our departure. Indeed, the title breaks up quite naturally into three queries: 1. What is our understanding of the local church? (By under:standing we mean tides quaerens intellectum; faith seeking underst.and!ng. Here we mean the knowledge of the local church that is givew t.hroughfaith, and is deepened through our reflection on the data of faiths)z ° ~ ~ 2. What is our understanding of religious life? (Understanding means, here again, knowledge through faith and reflection.) , 3. What is, and what should be, the right relationship between the two? The questions spring quite natur~ally from the title. Yet, I am still not satisfied with them. They shouldbb focused with more care, sharpened with greater precision. Also, they should impose a limit on our rather broad topic, and thus make the discussion of it more manageable for our specific purpose. Let us try again to set the right questions. 666 A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 667 1. What is our understanding of the fact, of the ~event, of a particular church ? There are two significant changes in this new formulation. We seek a better understanding of the fact or event of the church; that is, our'focus is not on an abstract concept, but on an actually existing community of Chris-tians who form a church, although not the:universal Church. Our focus is concrete and existential. Our understanding will develop more from .the observation of the living body than from the analysis of texts. Also, we substituted the term "particular" for "local." The reason for this isthat local church has a geographical connotation and tends to point to a parish or to a diocese, hardly to more than these. The term "particular" allows greater flexibility; it points toward the natural unity of a group of Christians inside the broad,universal community. Such unity may well emergedn a diocese, .but it may well go beyond it and extend as far as an ecclesiastical province, a region, or a country.~ It may even spread over several countries. To seek the understanding of a "particular" church, instead of a "local" church, frees us from narrow boundaries and will allow us to examine the issue in a broader context? But we must impose a restriction on ourselves. We do not intend to exhaust the mystery of a particular church by investigating all its dimen-sions. We want to understand its life in relationship to religious commu-nities. That is all; but, it is a lot. 2. What is our understanding of the fact and event of religious com-munities? Here, too, our focus is concrete. Our primary interest is not in the concept of religious life, but in the real life.of religious communities.4 With a well-defined limitation: we seek the understanding of the life and work of religious communities in their .relationship to a particular church in which they exist, and where they give themselves to the service of the universal church. 3. What is, or what should be, the relationship between the two, a particular church and religious commutiities, in it? We intend to reflect on the living relationship that exists, or should exist, in the b6dy of the church between two diverse members. We seek ihis understanding in view oflntelligent Christian action, with the intention of ¯ finding norms and guidelines for such action. Let us turn now to the first q,uestion. First Question: How Can We Come to,a'Better understanding of the Particular Church? All understanding begins with the perception of facts. For facts about the particular church we must turn to the awareness of Christians through-out- the centuries, from the beginning to our days. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 Some historical pointers about the development of the particular church; or, how did the Christian community perceive the particular church throughout its history? In the early centuries, Christian communities developed maihly along the great commercial routes of the Roman Empire. Soon they structured themselves; the bishop presided over the congregation. The local com-munities were closely knit; those were the times when Christians knew each other by name. While they were aware of the universal dimension of their religion, they enjoyed a certain amount of local autonomy,. Yet, right from the beginning, there was a ,movement to bring the smaller communities around the bishop into a larger unity, either under the supervision of a traveling bishop, or under a metropolitan residing in a larger city, usually the capital of a province. Particular churches with their own language, liturgy, discipline and customs, developed, not so much in each~city, but in larger territories that represented a natural cultural unity, They developed different understandings of Christian faith; they created different practices. Of course, those differences did not go so far as to deny or contradict the unity necessary for universality, but they certainly went far enough to give a different character to each of those particular churches.'~ Such trends are clearly discernible well into the Middle Ages. Individual dioceses in most places were too small to give a specific ex-pression to their faith, to create their own discipline; culturally, they were ¯ ¯ absorbed into a larger unity, into the ecclesiastical province or the national church. Thus, the Irish church, from the beginning, wa.s quite different from the continental churches, yet there was not much difference from one diocese to another. The English church, too, had its own characteristics under the leadership of Canterbury. On the Continent, the legal customs of Germanic peoples gave a certain unity to many churches. In Spain, the Mozarabic rite developed and united many dioceses in worship. In France, churches around Lyons formed again a vital unity, distinguished by their liturgy. We could continue the enumeration of such developments, but for the purpose of this article, let us content ourselves with a general statement, that I believe is historically correct. If by particular church we mean a church that has its own specific charisms, its own mind and its own heart within the universal Church, then only a few dio.ceses were truly.particular churches,n Differences in theology, liturgy, and discipline could be found much more between ecclesiastical provinces, regions and territories of nations, than between dioceses. The source of such variety is much more in human culture than in the understanding of faith. With the waning of the Middle Ages, a change takes place. The power of the metropolitan see in the Western church is reduced to a minimu~m. Liturgical worship, preaching, and discipline become strongly unified in the whole Church, even to the point of exaggerated uniformity. The role. of A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 6159 particular churches, be they dioceses, regions or provinces, is reduced to a minimum. Vatican Council II wanted to restore the dignity of the particular church and the bishops sti'essed its importance repeatedly,r ~'et the council was not in a position to do much reflection on the nature of the particular church, on what it has been throughout different periods of.history; it did not tell us how the term should be understood in the future. Indeed,°the developments after the council reflect some confusion, even some contradiction in these matters. In many theoretical writings and commentaries on the council, it is assumed that the particular church is the diocese. Its unity, its specific character, its distinctive vocation are em-phasized. Yet recent developments in liturgical and disciplinary legislation do not give,.much importance to individual dioceses; they give much more power to larger :tinits represented by national or regional episcopal con-ferences. While differentiation on the diocesan level is virtually impossible, ex-cept in insignificant and minor matters, privileges, exemptions, special permissions are easily granted to a larger unit such as a region or a nation. It is clear now that the term "particular church" can be used in two distinct ways. It may refer to an individual diocese, to one congregation around its bishop, or it may refer to a larger unit that comprises several dioceses and possesses a unity that springs from human factors such as culture, history, national inheritance, and so forth. Both uses are legitimate and important. But the meaning ought to be clarified in each case. Reflecting on the relationship of religious communities to the particular church, we cannot sweep away this problem of meaning, calling it purely semantic. The issue of relationship is alive on both levels and brings up different problems that we must face. There is the issue of the rela~tionship of.religious communities to a diocese. But there is also the issue of the relationship of religious com, munities to a larger unit, e.g., ~to the national church, that has its own particular characteristics. In the United States, both issues are alive. Theological reflections on the fact or event of the particular church, or, what is our understanding of a particular church? 1. Christian people throughout their historY were aware of belonging, as it were, to two communities: one, universal, the other, particular. The universal' community is world-wide; it springs from the action of the one Spirit of God, who was poured out on the face of the earth. The entrance into it is through one baptism that is the same everywhere. The particular community is the local one~ For some, the local church means the parish, for some others the diocese, for others again, it may well mean the church in a country. 2. The temptation always existed, and will probably never leave us, to Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 oppose the two to the point that one is considered important at the expense of the other. But any such consideration is wrong because it tears up the visible body .of Christ. When we speak of the universal Church and the particular ones we. do nothing less.and nothing more than to describe an existing differentiation in the social, body of Christ. His body is one, but it is composed of parts; the whole could not exist without the parts;-and the parts have no life .in themselves. Any separation means death for all; any destruction of natural harmony brings sickness to the whole organism. 3. Paradoxes can be helpful inour attempt to understand such complex differentiation. It can be :said that there is both autonomy and dependence in each member of the body. The particular church is autonomous and yet it depends on the universal Church. The universal (~hurch is itself the source of life for all other churches; yet its vitality comes entirely from the local churches. We may think of the autonomy of the heart in bur body. It will not ~ perform well unless all the other organs let it do what its spec!fic task is; any unwarranted intervention with. the heart,may bring subsequent disaster for the whole body. Yet the heart is totally dependent in its function on the whole body. The rhythm of its beat, the strength of its action, are carefully regulated by numerous other factors and agents present in the living body. If they,.cease . to function, no life-giving blood will flow into the heart. We may not be able to reach~a precise definition for the local church, but reflection through symbols and images can give us a great deal of, under-standing. 4. If we ask now what precisely the source.of differences is among the local churches, we find that it is mainly in the humanity of those Christians who form them, that is, not so much in any specific Christian belief, but in th~ human traditions; history and culture of those who believe. Thus, initially, the Jews and the Greeks and the Romans all received the good news equally, but they built up churches that were marked by their own culture, national customs and characteristics. Thus there were soon Jewish churches, Hellenistic Churches, and churches of the Romans, all part of the "same universal Church, yet all different. .Later, the inhabitants of Ireland, of England, of the Iberian peninsula built their churches on the universal elements of Christian faith, worship, " and discipline, and on the particular elements of tl~eir own inheritance. 5. The situation is not much different today. Here and there, an isolated di6cese may be found that has its own distinctive life as a diocese. The Christian community of a Pacific Island may well develop.distinctive traits that no other diocese in this world can possess. But such cases are rare today. More often there is a regional unity. The dioceses of Alaska form a natural unity that is quite different from their sister churches in the South. A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 671 There" might also be a national unity. The dioceses of Japan are not mark-edly different from each other; the strong unity of the culture and traditions on the four islands is manifest in the particular church of Japan. Even a whole contir~ent can display a unity. How many times in recent years we have. heard the churches of South America speaking with voices that were strikingly similar to one another. There are foundations in South America for a specific particular unity that embraces the Christians of many dio-ceses, numerous provinces and several nations. 6. °Such re°flecti0ns and considerations do not leave us with a clear concept'and definition of what a particular church is; but they leave us with a good working understanding of the complex nature of our Church that is both universal and particular at the same time. Our undei-standing reflects the true state of things and.~e do not become captive of romantic ideas that are definitely present in the .post-conciliar writings. Father Karl Rahner himself stresses that there is church whenever the bishop celebrates the Eucharist, surrounded by his community. Such a ViSion certainly corre-sponds to our earliest traditions, but it is simply not realistic today. Few of the faithful ever partake in the Eucharist'celebrated by the bishop, and the size of the dioceses geographically or numerically makes any such cele- I~ration virtually iml56ssible. Our understanding it not in adopting clear theories. It is much more the perception of the changing, shifting realities of the Chi~rch. That is how it should be. The duty of Chri~tia.ns to uphold the particular church; or, how must we confess in word and deed our belief in the particular church? At this point, two facts stand out. One is that there is no Christian Church without particular churches, as~there is no human body withotit members. The other is that there is no Christian who does not belong, somehow, to a particular church, as there is no individual cell that does not belong,to a distinct organ in the human body. No one can; therefore, belong to the Christian Church without assuming the duty to uphold a particular church, although this duty may well be differentiated according to the condition of each one, as we shall see. There is no direct and immediate entry, into the universal Church, since it is the communio of local churches. Interestingly enough, not even the pope him-self, who traditionally has been called the "Bishop of Rome," or the "Uni-versal Bishop," belongs exclusively to the universal Church. He is not residing in a territory detached from all particular churches, as the Presi-dent of the United States resides in the District of Columbia, detached from any allegiance to any state. The pope is the Bishop of Rome and belongs to that particular, church, while he is also the head of the universal Church. The very structure of the (2hurch demandsthat there should be aduty on every single person to uphold his own local or particular church. The support to a,memb.er church must always be in harmony and good 679 / Review for Religious, Volume,36, 1977/5 balance with the belief and support given to the universal Church. There is no precise measure to determine how much a Christian should give tohis particular community and how much to the universal congregation of the Church. Such measure can only be determined by taking into account a call and a mandate: the vocation of an individual person or of a distinct com~ munity. Even in the case of the same person, of the same community, the contribution can be shifting and changing according to needs, and their existing capacity to give. Now we have come to the point where we can speak .more explicitly about the duty of religious communities to uphold the local, particular church. It is a duty from which there is no exception and no exemption. But the duty is not the same in every group. Religious ins'titutes that are exempt from the jurisdiction of the local or~linary and subject to the direct supervision of the Holy See, have a f9ndamental universality, a call and a mandate to go to local churches where the need is greater.8 They are freed from the power of the local,.bishop, not in order to be total free-lancers in the Church, but to be free to serve~ anywhere in any local church. Because of the universal call and mandate of such religious institutes, their world-wide organization, their capacity to move from one place to another should be respected. But once they are settled within the boundaries of the local church or in the territory of a particular church in the broader sense, they must blend into the local scene; they must even strike roots in the local soil in order to bring forth good fruit. They should not be a source of disruption, but a source of strength.9 Similar considerations apply to'various communities of pontifical right. As a rule their vision goes beyond the limits of a particular church, their aspirations often stretch far and wide. But they too, are at some place and have the duty to serve the people of God there. Then there are the institutes of diocesan right. They dedicate them-selves to the service of the universal Church through serving exclusively near a local church. They are not superior or inferior to the others; they simply have their own distinctive vocation and dedication. The duty to respect.and to serve a particular church SpringS not only from a law imposed by God through the structures of the Church, but also from the respect due to differences manifest in our human nature and in our historical traditions. The upholding of the local church originates in a deep belief in the Incarnation; in the blending of divine and h6man elements in the Christian community. The gift of God may be similar all around but it takes different shapes and forms in various ~places. Second Question: How Do We Perceive Existentially, Understand Rationally, and Be at Home Practically With Religious Communities? The question sounds broad but the focus of our inquiry is strictly cir-cumscribed again. We do not wish to reflect over all the aspects of the A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 673 existence and life of religious communities. We want to know, to under-stand and help them in their relationship to the local and particular (hurch. This is the proper scope of our inquiry. A short survey of the development of religious communities in their rela-tionship to the local or particular church will be good grounding again for further reflection. Our survey will be limited to a few facts arising in the history of the Western Church. The birth and expansion of the monastic movement from the sixth into the ninth century can be described in a somewhat unusual way: the au-tonomous monasteries that sprang up first in Italy, and then on the con-tinent of Europe, also in the British Isles, had much of the characteristics of a local church. The monasteries were cities of God, distinguished from the cities of man. The brethren gathered around the Abbot to offer their praise and thanksgiving to God.~° In some places, the bishop exercised a certain amount of power over them. In other places, due oftrn to distance, the monks lived and died Within their own monastery, with no interference from any ecclesial au-thority. By the eighth century however, the weakness of being alorie and not being in communication with a broader ~egment of the Church became manifest. Signs of decline and decay were setting in. The eighth century that witnessed the movement of Cluny also saw an increasing awareness of the need forgreater unity am?ng religious com-munities. Monasteries of different places, provinces, regions and countries placed themselves under the power of the Abbot of Cluny. Such close unity clearly constituted a new relationship to both the particular and universal Church. In fact, without the help of the church of Rome, that is the pope, they could not have achieved what they did. With Cluny, an organizational breakthrough had been made. In the eleventh century, the movement of Citeaux brought about again a new type of union of monasteries built more on a bond of love than on any legal structure. In the thirteenth century, Francis and Dominic were certainly dedicated servants of local churches, but soon they moved beyond this: they em-o braced the whole of Christendom. They brought their own new approach toward serving both the local and the universal Church. They had a strongly developed sense of universality, without, however, turning their backs on local needs. ~ ~ The sixteer~th century is the time when new continents opened up. Discoverers and colonizers set out to conquer new lands. That is the time of the foundation of the Society of Jesus. The Jesuits seemingly had no allegiance to any local church. They were devoted to the pope. But further examination shows that while they set out on their apostolic journeys, often 1574 / Review for Religious, Volume 36~ 1977/5 sent by the pope himself, for the sake of the universal Church, once they arrived, they went to extraordinary lengths to build and to uphold local churches in India, in Japan, in South America. Paradoxically, they left thei,r native churches to become all to the natives in faraway places.~z The nineteenth and the twentieth centuries bring a new development. There are many apostolic foundaiions; some more for the sake of the universal Church, some definitely for the sake ofparticular churches. Both trends are represented: to serve the universal Church, and to work for the welfare of local churches. Here our historical survey ends and our reflections begin. The ecclesial Character of religious communities; or, hdw are they related to the Church? Our .aim here is to articulate with some clarity an understanding of the obvious fact of history that religious communities exist in the Church and they are in the service of our Christian people. 1. The birth, the development, the existence and the work of religious communities is nothing else than a particular manifestation of the life of the Church.~3 A religious com,rnunity, independently .from the ~:hurch, has no life. When a community prospers, it is growing in the life that was given to the Church. This statement should be stressed today ~ince some religious comn~unities have become soinvolved in reflecting on their own life that they hhve lost sight of the source of their life. They work within a- narrow horizon, and never find what they are seeking so anxiously. Also, once we understand the fact that there is no life in religious communities except what comes from the Church, it is easier to understand the history of those communities which once prospered spiritually but later grew old arid died. There is not necessarily any shame~in that. Human persons too. are born, develop, prosper, grow old and die. God may well call a community into existence to provide for the needs of the times; he may well call another one for new needs. We are not privy to his designs. We should give praise for the vocation we have and should not covet what we do not have. Those who are ~nxiously asking whether or not religious life will survive lock themselves in(o the limits of a wrong question. The right question is: is there an abundance of life in the Church? If so, that life. will manifest itself in new ways that we cannot foresee. There will be always foolish persons around, such as were Francis of Assisi, Ignatius of Loyola, Teresa of Avila, to surprise us, to shock us, and to entice us to follow them. If we put our hope. where it naturally belongs, that is, in the Church, our anxieties may well disappear.~4 ~ 2. A religious community may have many goals, all of them good and right. But there is a built-in purpose in .every community that seeks and obtains approval from the Church. They. publicly proclaim that the words of life are with the visible Church. They want to be publicly recognized by the Church, they want to have their way of life authenticated as good enough to follow Christ. A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 675 The legal formalities of obtaining approval for a new religious com-munity have a deep theological significance. As often happens in the Church, the beauty is all within. A community asks for public incorporation into the strtictures of the Church. Such a quest is the fruit of an act of faith in the wisdom and the power of the Church. When such incorporation is granted, behind the test of the document there is a quiet recognition that the Church has seen grace operating in the community. It is an approval of the way of life of the group, of their service to thee community. The foundation. for the understanding of government and obedience in religious commu-nities is their ecclesial character. The Church gives them a public mandate. When they accept it, they obey the call to service.1'~ 3. Ye~, the mandate from the Church does not make all the ]zommunities the same. Each retains its own particular character and personality. Each is called to serve both the universal and local church in different ways. There are and there will be communities Who have their origin and the scope of their life within a local or particular church. There they were born, there they live, work and die. We all know such groups. Their gift is precious beyond telling.In Lesotho, who can serve the local church better than a congregation of native sisters? There are communities whose organization may spread throughout the ~niversal Church. Members are easily transferred from one place to an-other, according to need. Their vocation is to blend the universal mission with service in one place. The Franciscanor Dominican friars or the Jesuits would be typical examples of'suchcommunities. But let us recall that when a Eurbpean is sent to Japan, and takes up some apostolic work there, his mandate is to affirm and uphold through every available means the church of Japan. Missionary adaptation or "incuituration" is really an effort.to-ward building the local church. No matter how universal the vocation of a commu,nity is, eventually service must be given at a place that is the local or particular church. The duty of the Church to uphold religious communi.tiey; or, how can religious communities be "affirmed by the Church? The Church affirms a religious community through the act of public approval. But that is just the beginning. The initial act should be followed by unceasing help and encouragement to promote the integration of reli-gious into the life of the Church, both universal and particular. Respect for the ,way of life of each group should be the fundamental rule that governs the attitude of the Holy See or of the diocesan bishop. There is no single rule to say how this respect should go. , In the case of a contemplative monastery, respect may ~nean the ap-preciation of the prayers~offered by those monks and nuns, of the sacrifice of their lives. In the case of an apostolic community, the situation is dif-ferent; they are taking part in the practical work of evangelization. The 676 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 Church mandates them to preach, and to perform deeds of charity. They should be given an opportunity to share their experience with others. I.n the diocese, they should=be taken into the planning, even into the decision-making, process. Indeed, there is an ancient tradition to invite abbots of independent monasteries and, a newer practice, to invite superiors general of exempt religious, orders, to an ecumenical council. To have religious present at synods, held either on regional or diocesan levels, would be not only fair and just, bfit it would be according to our traditions, too. Such can be the affirmation of religious life in practice. At this point it is interesting to note that the development from synods to episcopal con-ferences is somewhat a departure from the old tradition of the Church. Surely, the episcopal body has a unique position in the universal Church, and the residential bishop is in charge of his diocese. But the bishop needs the religious to carry out well their own mandate received through their consecration. I~t is, necessary for them to be in steady contact with religious who carry so much of the burden of daily work in the Church and the churches. If reiigious share the pastoral work of the bishops, they should also have some part in planning and evaluating the same work.~ Third Question: What Is the Relationship Between the Particular Church and Rer, ligious Communities, and How Should This Relationship Develop? The relationship between a particular church and religious communities is a dynamic living relationship that must be created anew all the time. Legal norms cannot do more than give a framework that is always in, adequate .to generate life, but good enough to protect life that comes from deeper sources. Legal norms by their very nature are abstract, impersonal, and general. They are meant for typical cases irrespective of the persons inv61ved, and of their historical circumstances. But in real life there are only concrete situations and living persons and communities. The relationship depends on the personality of the bishop on the one side, of the religious community on the other side. They must work out their relationship concerning particular issues,lr Perhaps this.relationship is best described through analogies. The ob~,ious analogy of call and response can be used. The bishop calls on the religious community and asks for help to build the Church, to announce the good news, to do the good deeds of charity. When the re-ligious hear this call they must respond out of their own resources. The response of an enclosed community may well be in offering prayers for the needs of the diocese; the response of a group of Dominican friffrs may well be in preaching in' the diocese. The religious too, may call 'on the local church for help and encouragement; they may well need it. A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 677 They may play another role in the diocese. They may call people to a better service of the Lord. They can act as the conscience of the com-munity. Their independence and freedom allows them to do so, provided they can do so without presumption.18 The analogy of the body can be recalled also. The religious community must find its own identity in the body of the church, before it can function properly. The community is a member of the local church, with its own structure and role. It would not be in the interest of the local church to weaken a member group. On the contrary, it must promote their welfare, It must respect theii- identity, must use them properly for the purpose they have been created.19 Such relationship cannot be regulated 'by the rules of justice only, Justice gives birth to rights that must be respected, and certainly should not be bypassed and neglected: Nonetheless, a living dynamic relationship cannot be created if both sides stand on their rights. Such an attitude would lead to a dead end where all the participants become captive to their own rigidity and: dedication to strict justice:2° ~ Good relationships between the local church and religious living and working in it must be created'continuously by both sides. There is no other way of creating it than by charity thiat means to give. Neither side should ask first what is due to them, but rather what is 'it that they can give to-the other. Only then will there be a new spirit that builds the church instead of destroying it; a new spirit that brings unity to the whole body instead 6f fraffmenting it. ~ Conclusion As we reach our conclusion we may well experience contradictory feelings. On the~one side, we experience frustration. After ali we did not succeed in finding precise rules and fixed principles tO determine ihe relationship of the local church and religious communities. We found only changing ,and shifting patterns and the need to create relationships where they do not exist according to our expectations. On the other side we experience contentrhent because we are guided by the Spirit of God and the intelligence of believers rakher than by rigid rules. After all, the Lord himself did not give many detailed instructions to his disciples. He gave them his Spirit to guide them in all. With the help of the Spirit they have built the Church. They were guided more by a person than by words. Our hope, too, is in a person, in the same Spirit of Christ. He is with us, in the local church and in the religious communities. Yet, our hope is also in the dedication and intelligence of Christian people on both sides, in the local church and in religious communities. They; together, can create their relationship anew. 678 / ReOiew for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 By dOing it, they will experiencethe joy of the Incarnation; they will share theagony of the Cross. Yet, throughout it all, they will 'be blessed and will know a contentment that is in a small way the anticipation of the gift of the Resurrection. Notes I. Parvus error in principio magnus est in fine in "De ente et essentia," begin~ning. ~ 2. Such understanding is the fruit of both contemplation and rational reflection. We must first accept the mystery through faith and then seek the understanding of it. 3. We do not intend to down-play the importance of a diocese. It is a natural unit in the church, ,sacramentally and organizationally. Nonethe-less, the life of a given diocese ordinarily does not differ significantly, if at all, from the life of neighb.oring dioceses. But, often enough,.a group of dioceses displays significant differences from the way another group .lives. The local churches of Holland form a unity that is quite distinct under many aspects from the d!oceses of Germany. Organizationally, the division of the universal Church into dioceses is of permanent importance; but, histori-cally, the larger units have played a more importapt role. The term "par, ticul,ar" is used in our text loosely; its meaning is to be determined from the context. At times, it refers to a diocese. More often it refers to a larger unit: to several dioceses grouped together, displaying a common understanding of the mysteries, using similar rites in worship, cooperating closely in apostolic work. 4. The theological principle cannot be stressed enough. We do not begin with a definition; we begin with the contemplation of an event in the history of the Church. We seek to reach some understanding through the con-templative perception of the mystery. Therefore, our vision will never be so complete as apparentlya definition is. Even if we are able to reach a good understanding, it remains incomplete and leaves plenty of possibility for further pr.ogress. 5. As succeeding generations of Christians may focus on different as'- pects of the same mystery, and give practical emphasis to their vision, in a similar way, churches existing in the same historical period may build up differing~understandings of the same mystery, and order their practices acc.ordingly, not in the sense of Contradicting each other, but rather, in the sense 6f completing each other's perception. The same mountain can be looked at. by explorers from the North, and by explorers from the South. Their differing vision of the same mountain is complementary, not contra-dictory. The contemplation of God's mighty deeds in our history, deeds that are certainly permanent, gives rise to perceptions and understandings, that are diStinct and complementary. We see the origin of particular churches in such different perceptions, followed by different practices. A Theology of the Local Church .and Religious Life / 679 6~ At any time of Christian history, a diocese can be called a particular church organizationally. There is one community, with a bishop presiding over it_But beyond any Organization, there is a sacramental unity in the diocese; if the universal Church is a sacrament, so is the diocese. "This Church of Christ is truly present in all legitimate local congregations of the faithful which, united with their pastors, are themselves called,churches in the New Testament" Lumen Gentium, 26. 7." Vatican Council II strongly upheld th6 dignity of, and the right of, the local church.' For instance: "That Church, Holy and Catholic, which is the Mystical Body of Christ, is made up of the faithful .who are organically united i6 the Holy Spirit through the same faith, the same sacraments, and the same government and who, combining into various groups held together by a hierarchy, form separate churches or rites. Between these, there flourishes such an admirable brotherhood that this variety within.the Church in no way harms her unity, but rather manifests it. For it is the mind of the Catholic Church that each individual church or rite retain its traditions whole aiad entire, while adjusting its way of life to the various needs of time and place" Orientalium ecclesiarum, 2. 8. A paradoxical statement; nonetheless it is true; Exempt religious orders mostly used their freedom from local episcopal jurisdiction-to go from,one place to another, either to help the churches most in need, or through missionary activity, to give birth to new churches. Sometimes the privilege of exemption helps specific activities in the service of the universal church, such as, to :sponsor an International School of Theology in Rome or elsewhere. 9.' The strength they give to the local church eventually rebounds to the strength of the whole. 10. To describe the monastic movement in terms o'ffuga mundi, that is flight from the world, only~ is to do injustice to history. Granted that to flee the world was an important motive for people who wanted to join the monastic community, still theii" main motive was to build the city ~of God among the cities of man.°The monastery was as self-contained as the Small cities built on the tops of the hills and mountains of Italy. Yet, there was a difference: praise and thanksgiving were offered, t9 God, day and night. The task of th'e earthly city wasopus hominum, the work of man; the task in the city of.God° was opus Dei, work thai belonged to God. Admittedly, the theme 'of "fleeing the world" is stressed in contemporary monastic lit-erature. But such writings must be contrast+d with documents, such as the Rule of St. Benedict, where the ongoin, g praise of God and his service takes the central place; also, with the fact that the monks did not hesitate to go out into the world "of barbarians in central and northern Europe to bring them the good news of Christ, and to teach them all that they found precious in human culture. A monastery could truly be called a,"local" or "partic-ular" church except, perhaps, for the fact that it was not presided over by 6~!0 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 a bishop. But the monks were dedicated to the service of the universal Church0probably more than they realized. Without understanding their universal orientation, we cannot understand the conversion of Europe. For a wisely controversial book on the rise and fall of religious com-munities, see Vie. et mort des ordres religieux by Raymond Hostie (Paris: Cesclee de Brouwer, 1972). For a classical exposition of the development of religious orders, see From Pachomius to Ignatius by David Knowles (Oxford: Claredon Press, 1966). 11. The Middle Ages, also, saw the foundation of religious orders that were principally devoted to the works of the universal Church. There were orders' to promote the Crusades, or to take part in them; to protect the possession of the Holy Land; to give themselves for the redeeming of the captives, and so forth. 12. Thi~ history ofthe Jesuits shows eloquently that the service of the universal Church can never be separated from the service of particular~ churches, and vice versa. They could not have been more dedicated to the universal Church. They accepted a mandate from the pope, and the pope only. Yet once they established themselves at a given place, they did everything to enter into the culture of the natives. They helped them, in every way that was compatible with Christian faith and the universality of the. Church, to build new churches with strong particular traditions. In China, they devised and fought for specific rites in the vernacular suitable for the Chinese culture and mentality. They attempted to do the .same in India. In South America, they sided with the natives against the con-quistadores, and gave life to local churches within the framework of the so-called "reductions," that is, autonomous Indian settlements leading a strong community life reminiscent, somewhat, of the early church of Je-rusalem. History shows that to serve the tiniversal Church redounds to the good of Particular churches. 13. We like to stress that the life of religious communities is nothing else than a particular manifestation of the life of the Church. There is no such thing as the Church on one side and religious communities on the other, eitherhelping each other inharmony, or being in open conflict. The member is not .separate from the body; all life of the member is the life of the body, Religious life cannot be conceived of as charismatic life independent and separate from the institutional life of the Church. Charisma and structures, although distinct, can no more be separated from each other in the Church than the flesh and blood of a human person can be separated from his bones: The skeleton, ugly and unfriendly as'it is, gives support and proportion to the beauty of the flesh that covers it. Charisma and institutions must work' together. ~ 14. There is no need that is as. great today as the need for purification of our faith in the Church, and the right understanding of what ,kind of A Theology of the Local Church and Religious Life / 681 community Jesus has founded. One conception should be discarded right from the start (in the terms of Karl Rahner, it could be called a "silent heresy"): the Church is a community of holy persons throughout. While it is true that there will always bepersons of extraordinary holiness raised by God among his people, there will always be many in the Church who are sinners, and glorify God by proclaiming his mercy. The Church is a human community, a community of sinners. Yet, because the Spirit of God is faithful to her, she will never lose or corrupt the word of God, provided the proclamation of the word takes place with ~'ull apostolic authority. Human limitations and fragility, however, will always be present and manifest in the Church till the end of time, be it in the hierarchy, be it in the people. To love the Church means to love the community as it is, and above all, to have the internal disposition to give what we can to this community. There is little love in those who continually expect to receive. There is love in those who know how to be compassionate. A religious community is one with the Church if the members are steadily asking themselves what they can give to her so that she can grow in goodness, into a greater likeness to Christ. For a more detailed explanation of these principles, see "How to Be One With the Church Today" in Blessed Are Those Who Have Questions, by Ladislas Orsy (Denville, N. J.: Dimension Books, 1976). Perhaps the best and most rewarding way of acquiring the right theo-logical understanding of the Church is to read and study its history. The real Church, suppprted by the Spirit, is there in its beauty and fragility. A merely conceptual and systematic approach may lead the unwary to a dream--beautiful and unreal. Once a person surrenders to,the dream, he will be frustrated by the harsh and true reality, that is, by the Church as it exists. 15. Indeed, the roots of a theology of obedience in religious life are there in the mandate that the community receives from the Church. There is a sacramental character to such a mandate, since the Church itself is a sacrament. (The seven signs are particular manifestations of the life of the Church.) Obedience to such a.great mandate should not be confused with ob~eying ordinary human rules and regulations that are part and parcel of the life of every community, religious or not. Through the v6w of Obedience, a person gives himself or herself explicitly, visibly, to the Church~ It is the sacrifice of legitimate freedom to accept a mission from the Church in which, behind human~structures, the Spirit of God lives. 16. There are few countries where the health and progress of the Church depend so much on education as in the United States. Much of this ~ork is sponsored, directed, or done by' religious men and women. Yet, when the most important policy-making body for the pastoral life of the Church meets, that is, when the episcopal conference deliberates, or de-cides, religious are absent and are given only a very limited opportunity to Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 contribute before, during, or after the meeting--a lack of balance, and the Church is poorer for it. °17. It is interesting to note that, with all the ingenuity of canon lawyers at .her disposal, the Church never succeeded in working out clear and entirely satisfactory norms to regulate the relationship between the local ordinary anti,religious communities of pontifical right, or those enjoying the privilege of exemption. Why? Because it is easy to state some theological principles such as: the bishop is the supervisor of~all apostolic works in the diocese; or, religious must be free to i'egulate their internal affairs, and to carry out their apostolate according to their constitutions. But, it is difficult t0 make detailed norms applicable everywhere. Nor will the new proposed legislation overcome this problem. If anything, history proves the insuf-ficiency of strict legal solutions. 18. A religious community of international dimensions can do much to bring a local church out of its own isolation, and to make it aware of the universal Church. The very presence of the members of~a community that works world-wide for the Church is a reminder ~to the faithful that they too belong to a community over which the sun never sets. 19. This implies respect for the particular charism of an institute. The local church should not try to use the religious for work contrary, or alien, to their own calling. 20. While it isright to work for justice, we should never lose sight of the ¯ fact that justice is the minimum of charity. Justice can proclaim what is due to each person and group and does establish a balance in the life of a human community. Yet the stability of an organization built on justice only remains precarious.To achieve contentment and happiness, it is necessary to ttave charity all around. By charity, we do not mean charitable handouts, but strong love that consists in giving, not only advice or things, but ourselves. A society in which each vindicates his or her own fights is built on a shaky foundation. A society in which each one is intent on giving what he has to others, is like a house built on a rock. This is obviously true of the Church, but it is equally applicable to any secular society. The great national'heroes of the past were those who were able to give to others, not counting much what they were giving. From what we just said, rio one should conclude that ttie cause of justice is not urgent, and that we should not work for it. Quite simply, as Christians, we must say that justice, in itself, i.s not_enough. The strength and perfection of love is a vital need for every human being and every"human society. The great idea of balance and welfare through the virtue of justice ought to be completedby the foolishness of love that God revealed through his Son. See the Conclusion in Morale Internationale, by Rene Coste (Paris: Desclee, 1964). For general orientation about the great problems of the world, and for spiritual recreation, all at once, see Return to the Center, by Bede Griffiths (Springfield, IL: Templegate, 1977). From the Center will those actions flow that bring love, peace, and justice to all men. Prayer: Adventure Into the Unknown Cecile Godreau, M.M. Sister Cecile worked for eighteen years in Bolivia where she was active in spiritual direciio~ for young religious. Presently she resides with the M.aryknoll Sisters; Maryknoll, NY 10545. Today there is a thrill at the very thought of the unkno~,n. Is there life on Mars, on Jupiter, or on the planets around other suns? If there is life, is it more advanced or more perfect than the life forms we know? What about our own planet? Are there life forms we have not yet explored? What about ¯ those areas on earth where men have never or rarely ventured?.What secrets do they hold? There was a time when the knowledge of the unknown would have inspired us to build protective areas, or at least, to introduce taboos for safety's,sake. Today we want, and are drawn to venture into, the heart Of the unknown. I would suggest to anyone with a bit of explorer's blood, and ~,h~ has a heart desirous of giving beyond what is often a dull, everyday existence (called life), to join me in a consideration of a great adventure. This ad-venture is so unique and so intensely personal that it is different for each -one. It is so thrilling that the one who goes on this journey will need an eternity to finish it to discoger its source. I mean prayer, God's version of p~ayer, called spiritual life by some, mysticism or i:ontemplation.by others. I call it adventure: God calls: maybe, he proffers a mind-blowing call, the kind of call that, as in the life of St. Paul, knocks us down when we are riding high. Maybe it is a call as quiet as an evening calm. Or, maybe it is a call after a powerful experience in a Common pCayer situation because of, or with, an unusually charismatic person's approach to our weak defenses. Again, maybe it is merely the movings quietly within that crumble all our preconceived plans and leave 683 684 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 us stunned by silence, or the slow and burning love that somehow separates us from our past. It is impossible to mention every situation, for from the time of this very conversion, it is different for each. God knows how best to invite us into the great adventure. Once we have been converted, we are left to find our way into God's country. Like the prophet Elijah, we realize that God is not in the con-version, not in the earthquake or thunder, but in the whispered breeze. Even trees, whose job it is to let us know when a breeze is near, are often u~nmoved by the gentleness of a tiny breeze. But we are made with hearts attunedif we will but go into our hearts to see and hear what is taking place therein. Some stop here. It is difficult to go within. Our culture has worshipped the extraverted, the active, the expressed word. Our people are expected to tell the world how they feel about everything. So it is almost impossible to have a silent center within us. We are not accustomed to going deep within where God is waiting for us. We are afraid to find out how it is to meet God in our'hearts. We are afraid to discover life within because someone may think we are not socially-minded. People may think we are not committed. "Alone in our hearts where God resides" has a scary sound to it, or, perhaps, even neurotic. What is God doing inside when we have been shouting to him from afar? Some break through and come to the God within. For them, He is Father, or Jesus, or maybe an inner awareness or "presence." Here we are bound to kneel in silence. Even our vocal prayer and meditations come to a halt. As the silence deepens, we wonder if it is right to be here. And we need help so often to just sit and enjoy what it is to be with God. Here we need often to be assured like children. We are moved to love so deeply, we may think we are a little "different." We search for others to understand. Often there are few around who dare to talk about this. We are alone and happy, deliriously in love, or quietly secure. Our God is like a mother nursing its child, a child being embraced by a loving mother, or held like an infant to a father's cheek. As we settle down like Peter to build tents for our experience, Jesus reminds us it is time to go back down to the bustle of the city. Our first reaction to move on is, "I thought this was it!" We balk at being born, and we refuse to leave this hallowed place. So God "puts out the lights" so to speak. Here many get discouraged. Yes, they lose heart. Why? Because all was so comfortable. Here people try to find other loves and ways. They are frightened because they think they have lost their faith. "Faith," of course, is the name mistakenly put on the experience of God within. Faith,-in fact, is the stepping out into the darkness that God directs us toward. We "explore" Faith by putting our hand into the hand of the resurrected Jesus to go out and discover what it is to be Jesus, Son of God. We are going to have to molt our skins of the intense joy and the security Prayer: Adventure Into the Unknown / 685 that we had, and we realize that we are vulnerable. To put our hand into the hand of Jesus is not a journey deeper within. It is a journey beyond our human limitations. Here Jesus who directs our adventure gives us self-knowledge. We might get discouraged and have the feeling of one who has climbed too far, too fast. We are aware of our smallness. Yet, Jesus who helps us on our journey is intent on leading u~ onward. When we reach the place he means us to explore, he does a very strange thing. He lets us see our world through his eyes. We might find ourselves somehow knowing what Jesus means in his gospel. Somehow, we tread through life as Jesus did. We, little by little, begin to know ~vhat it meant for Jesus to have been driven by the Spirit. Now we no longer seem drawn within. Our eyes are cast out onto our world! How terribly important each person we meet becomes! We are not sure we are loving others as our-selves, or as Jesus, because we are somehow filled with a compassion beyond our own. We are almost sure our small selves are being used by Jesus. Yet, all along the way, we are aware of the difference. Our real selves come to light. We find fewer and fewer excuses for ourselves, and we are driven deeper into our faith. For some this step is done very quietly, almost imperceptibly. Some cry, "I no longer know if it is me or Christ living in me," while others go deeper into faith, knowing only that they must go on seeking a water to quench the thirst of "Everyman." Here each one is given something of Jesus to use for Others. Little by little, the awareness of self is lost in the dream of bringing solace to others. 'Here we lose touch with our world because it claims to do what we, in fact, are made ~over~ tiy Jesus to really accomplish. We talk a different language, and our agony is this language. We no longer speak as men do who have tongues in cheek. Our new simplicity makes us a target for the clever and the powerful. Yet we seem to be drawn to quietly go on. our wills and intellects, no longer bound up in our feelings, are sharper. We are able to see our. way better than before, and our way takes us, like/Jesus, into the Father's will. We delight in our brothers, whether large, smzll, sinful or ~,irtuous. We ar~ at last able to see the God hidden in each. We know what it is to be Jesus. We begin to desire with all our strength to build a temple to our new-found religion. Jesus will be our Master, and we will do our worshipping strongly for a new world. We will be the Jesus of this world. It seems we have arrived, and yet--yet, God has just brought us to a new faith. It is as though all the experiences we have had were pu! in a vast sea, and we were set afloat in the tiny boat of our new faith. No longer do we feel the strength of God, nor see the glory of Jesus. We are asked to ride a stormy sea in a skiff. There is only one thing to do: trust. We are terrified by our nothingness, as we are compared, not with men, but with God. This death experience is the most terrible and the most beautiful experience of our lives~this realization of what we are without 686 ,/ Review for Religious, VOlume 36, 1977/5 him. The deep peace that has seen us through that dark and light of our lives is a must now, and we hope it is real in this stage of our adventure. Here, too, each person is different, and comes to this at different times. Once we have opted for death, we are given a faith that we never thought possible: No longer a faith held up by our deepest feelings, nor one seeing the progress of Jesus in our lives, but the faith that believes because one holds on to God beyond any reason. We go into the darkness to be pulled out now not trusting ourselves, our "faith," our ways, even our religiosity. We are pulled out swinging from a thread like a string puppet. We go from anger, to despair, to surrender. Surrender, which once sounded so terrifying, is the beginning of life. A dark faith is given us. No longer do we explain, or sing to it, orhold it as a precious keep-sake, for we realize.it is simply gift. We are now ready to walk back with a song to our native home. Nothing can really make us fear again. Our wordless love is for God, the Great Unknown. God, who lias been badlyexplained over and over by ourselves and others, takes us into himself. It is as though welook for our small boat, only to see it has disappeared. We are at the beginning of an intense desire. Longing and homesickness set in to show us how intense ourodesire is for God. Yet, he turns us back to live again among his people. He gives us each a seed to nurture, and when grown, to share the fruits with others. Some are so overwhelmed by this that they fall into silent prayer, agonized with the weight of their message. Others are filled with speech, a babbling speech, yet a speech that can be recognized as a song of God. One can open one's eyes and God has grown unlimited. We hasten to meet him, only to find that at this point, he spreads out in all directions. One is surrounded by God, silence, and it will take an eternity to begin to explore, to begin our adventure into this great unknown. How much we desire to begin to go towards our deepest love, and at least arrive at the first steps toward an eternity of ~urprises, peace, and our Source. We are willing to live a thousand years, if that be what he desires. We ~ealize that creation needs our new song which we, like God's trou-badours, will sing, with hearts somehow free and waiting, in this new-found peace, his last call. An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice Max Oliva, S.J. Father Oliva is the Director of Social Ministries for the California Province of the Society of Jesus. His special interests are the theology and spirituality of Social justice. He conducts workshops on these two themes as well as on. other aspects of social justice. He is also Associate Director of Field Education at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley. He ~resides at the Jesuit School of Theology at Berkeley; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Introduction We hear a lot of discussion today about the need to promote justice in economic, social and political structures. It takes only a cursory reading of the Bishops' Synod Statement, "Justice°in the World," tofind the Church issuing this call: Listenihg to the cry of those who suffer violence and are oppressed by unjust systems and structures, and hearing the appeal of a world that by its perversity contradicts the plan of its Creator, we have shared our awareness of the Church's vocation to be present in the heart of the world by proclaiming the Good News to the poor; freedom to the oppressed, and joy to the afflicted) How does one pursue social justice in the light of one's faith? How do we in.corporate and integrate the important ingredients of our own need for personal contact with marginated and oppressed people and the ongoing process of conversion that each of us must undergO? Row do we bring about a balance between our faith and our practical efforts for changing structures? This article offers some reflections on an apostoli~ spirituality for changing social structures, a ministry which can be a part of anyone's life and ministerial vision. The thoughts expressed here are the result of the tSynod of Bishops, 1971, "Justice in the World," page 1. 687 61111 / Reviewfor Religious, Volume 36, 1,977/5 author's reflection on his own ministry, both in inner-city Black commu-nities and in efforts to change social structures,z What do we mean when we talk about changing social structures? The most obvious example of structural change that comes to mind is the effect that a state or federal law can have on a whole range of institutions and the people in them. Take, for example, the Equal Employment Opportunity Act, which has had the effect of requiring businesses to hire minority and women workers, in responsible positions, or lose federal contracts or be taken to court in civil action suits. The ordinary citizen's role in promoting such a law might have been to draw attention to the injustices present before the law was passed by some kind of advocacy effort. Another example of structural change, again in the world of business: ~in the 1960's, many companies had as one of the standard questions on their applications forms, "Have you ever been arrested?" To the person ap-plying for work from an economically depressed area, this question was an automatic "No" to a possible job since many had been arrested. However, relatively few people had ever been convicted. Successful efforts were made to convince companies to change the word, "arrested," to, "con- .victed," thus opening the job market to a large segment of the community who had up to then been ex.cluded. Closer to home, changing structures m~ght involve affecting admission policies in a religious school so that more min.ority students might be able to attend, or, influencing a province so that an essential criteria for being a superior would be that she or he is strongly committed to justice. In both of these cases, an individual's action can have results that change the structures involved and thereby affect many people in the process. Basically, structures, systems and institutions of society are the frame-work in which human relationships--personal, political, economic, cultur-al~ take place. Social justice seeks to assess the worth of social structures and systems in view of how they impact the lives of people in them, or exclude people from them, and calls for personal responsibility for these structures. There are many ways to influence social structures, be it through actions to promote just state or national laws, be it efforts to affect international systems, or by way of altering a policy in one's own institution or com-munity. Whatever the means chosen, certain basic dispositions are neces-sary for such efforts to be realistic and, thus, effective. The first and pri-mary disposition is to be on the side of the economically po, or and politically powerless, as an advocate for their rights. In St. Matthew's gospel (15:29-31), we find Jesus sitting on a moun-tainside. There, "large crowds of people came to him bringing with them ~'i'he author is also indebted to Workshop participants who have given valuable feedback to the ideas expressed in this article. A Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice / 689 cripples, the deformed, the blind, the mute, and many others besides. They laid them at his feet and hecured them." What is particularly striking about this scene is not so much the cures, though, of course, these are marvelous signs of God's presence, but that Jesus actually, physically, touched these people: the crippled, the deformed, the blind, the mute--the marginated and outcasts of his time. Today, we, because we are Christians, are called to do the same, to touch the poor and oppressed of our day, those who are often different, from us by economic background, by color or culture, by education, perhaps by some kind of physical or mental handicap. To touch these, people means to have some ongoing personal contact with them, in order tolearn from them--their needs, their suffering, their aspirations, and their richness. To touch these people involves, paradoxically, a healing in ourselves, a deliverance from our prejudices, convictions, and attitudes, an escape from apathy, and an awareness that has deep within it a sense of urgency that justice be done. Such personal contact insures that our com-mitment be an "affair of the heart." Such contact is essential if our ministry of changing unjust .social structures is to be realistic, that is, meeting real needs. This ongoing personal interchange with oppressed people and an alert analysis of the structure we wish to change are basic dispositions for a ministry of changing social structures, be our work in schools, hospitals, a parish, retreat house, mass media, social ministry, or whatever,z Some Basic Principles The cycle of poverty is often described as consisting of: apathy--aliena; tion frustration--ignorance--hunger---despair. These words can also be used to describe our own state of mind and heart as we contemplate unjust arid dehumanizing structures. The problems seem so vast, the structures so complex, that we simply despair of moving at all to influence or try to change them. We need to begin our consideration of an apostolic spirituality for social justice ministry by taking a close look at some basic principles: 1. That each of us can be part of the change process for a more just world: by our choices, by our life-style, by our life-stance. No issue is so ambig-uous, no structure so complicated that we are unable to do something to influence it. ,~ 2. That other people--those we live with, those we work with, our stu- 3Personal contact with oppressed people, is also necessary for one-on-one kinds of service, such as spiritual direction, for the purpose of such ministry is to help the person clarify and deepen his relationship with God and challenge, when appropriate, the way the person lives out this faith in relation to the world. The director can be an excellent resource for helping the person being directed to see the intimate connection between faith and social justice and to discover ways she or he might effectively act to change unjust social structures. It is only by realizing this connection in his own life that the director will effectively communicate this message to the one being directed. 690 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 dents, parishioners, retreatants, fellow workers--can be reached and can change in their attitudes, in their values/in their standard and st.yle of life. Why? Because, like us, they are of good will. True, like us, they suffer from ignorance about those who are poor, are often insulated from those who are economically poor and politically powerless, and sometimes accept myths about the poor as truths. Still, they do not deliberately will the destruction and dehumanization of others any more than we do. They, too, seek hap-piness, peace and justice. And, like us, they sometimes get too caught up in self-interest or ignore the social dimensions of their actions. But if we can change, can become more socially conscious, more committed to justice, so can others. 3. That because of God's personal love for each of us, we are each im-portant in the process of building the kingdom of God, a kingdom initiated by Christ and commissioned to us, his followers, to carry on and build, a kingdom which fosters human dignity and equality, and which values hu-man-. development. , 4. That the Spirit is working in and through each of us even as we take small steps to change structures, and can work in ever new ways as we become more resolutely inserted into the world of the marginated and the oppressed. ~. 5. That other people---other religious women and men, diocesan priests, laypeople, Christians of.every denomination, and non-Christians too-are at work, acting for peace and justice, realigning their life styles, taking a critical stance toward the structures of society. This gives us hope. The Center of Our Commitment We are called to this ministry of changing unjust social structures by Jesus Christ, who works with us and whose Spirit is the source of our courage, wisdom, power and hope. God the Father is the center of our lives, the focal point of our identity: his personal love isthe basis of our worth.4 He is our Rock, our Foundation, our Beginning and our End. He is the One for whose sake ultimately we are engaged in the struggle for justice. ~ The more God is our center, the less chance do the idols that attract us and keep us from a commitment to justice hamper our ministry, idols such as popularity, "success," reputation, endless analysis, and the '.;good life." The more God is our center, the more effective will be our ministry of justice, for it will become ever more clearly his work. Because God is the center of our lives, we can develop the kind of apostolic qualities that are necessary for an effective ministry of justice. ~The author realizes that not all people relate to God, as Father,. as the center of their lives. This is the way the author relates to Gbd. To respect this difference, the word "Father" will only be used this once in the article. A SpiritutJlity for the Ministry of Social Justice Let us now consider some apostolic qualities that can help render our actions more fruitful. Apostolic Qualities for Our Ministry of Justice Because God is the center of our lives, we can be radically open: open to growth--intrapersonal, interpersonal and societal (our relationship to human.environments, structures, institutions and processes, especially of asocio-economic-polifico-cultural character). Open to new ~concepts and ideas, such as social sin and social grace, Liberation Theology and the use of Marxist tools of analysis for studying the structures in our socie[y. Open to face uncertainty and fear as we come into personal contact with the marginated and the oppressed people in our society and the environments in which they are forced to live. Open to face our own prejudice, racism and sexism as, they are manifested in attitude and language. Open to face our value addictions as they are reflected in our consumption patterns--the kinds of things we buy and.~why--and in our life style. Open to the pos-sibility of being misunderstood, even rejected, by those ~ith v~hom we speak about issues of justice, be they members of our family, our com-munity, or our constituents. Because God is the center of our lives, we can ~have a capacity for critical reflection such that no ideology, no system or way of life is "sa-cred" (or defines who we are). None can be free of scrutiny, challenge and, if needed, reform, be it: socialism, communism, capitalism, the American way of life and its values, the Church, our own community or the work of our apostolate, Because God is the center of our lives, we are not afraid to face the fact that we are converts to our ideas of justice and the actions we undertake for justice. Thus, we are capable of being ruthlessly honest with ourselves, neither becoming self-righteous nor bitter or cynical. Being honest in this way enables us to have what Thomas Cullinan calls "patient endurance,''~ a uniquely, Christian virtue, which is centered on Christian hope, without losing a sense of urgency that justice be done. Because God is the center of +ur lives, the focus in exercising our ministry of justice is not on "success" as we usually define it. Our success is in the doing or saying what we know we must say to be true to our convictions and the needs of oppressed people. Like the prophets, the doing or not of some word, some action, is not based on peoples' reac- 5Thomas Cullinan, O.S.B,, If the Eye Be Sound (England: St. Paul Publications, 1975), page 121, This is an excellent work of modern spirituality. In particular it uncovers the theological and spiritual foundations on which a socially committed Christianity must be built. Dom Tfiomas Cullihan, O.S.B., is a monk of the Ampleforth community, in England, and a member ¯ of the Commission for International Justice and Peace of England and Wales. Available: Catliolic Institute for International Relations; I Cambridge Terrace; London, NW I, England. 692 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 tions--be they affirmative or negative--not on how many people like us more or not, not on how many people ag~'ee with us more or not, but on being congruent with who we are before God, as we discern it in prayer and consultation. It is the virtue of integrity. Because God is the center of our lives, we can ~possess an habitual facility of discernment. In our ministry of social justice, there are two basic areas of input for our process of discernment. (1) The first element of our input is grasping the "signs of the times," that is, the cries of the poor and the oppressed of our world, their struggles,, their needs, their aspirations, their problems and the causes of these problems. Such knowledge and, more importantly, unders~tanding comes, as we said before, primarily by way'of some ongoing personal contact with economically poor people and those who are politically powerless and is supplemented by books and articles, films, workshops, or whatever means serves to increase our con-sciousness of the problems. Then each of us must lobk closely at her Or his talents, gifts, personality, ministerial strengths and weaknesses, and the kind of ministry she or he is involved in. In a spirit of prayer and with ~:onsultation, then, the discernment-reflection process gradually, organi-cally, and continually enables eiach of us to make action-choices for justice from where we are. For some, such action will involve integrating, social justice into classes taught or into the administration of a school or a hos-pital; for others, it will mean some kind bf political action or public protest. For some, it will mean homilies or retreat talks that show the intimate relationship between one's ~faith and a commitment to act for justice; for still others, it will involve direct service in an inner-city or rural, community or Third World country. Because God is the center of ou~ lives, we can ask him to fashion in us a heart for the oppressor as well as for the,oppressed. Injustice kills the perpetrator since exploitation, tyranny and oppression are sighs of death, spiritual death. We love the oppressor when we oppose with all our strength her or his spiritually suicidal behavior of oppression. With God's help we can enter every heart. For the po. or, we strive to win rights and the freedom to develop humanly; for the rich, we strive to win moral development. It is important to note, though, that the way in which one manifests one's concern for the oppressor will differ according to the kind of ministry one is involved in. The community organizer's way, for example, will be dif-ferent from the high school teacher's. Each develops a heart for the op-pressor in the context of her or his own situation. Because God is the center of our lives, we can have empathy with those who are economically and politically oppressed. Empathy is the'ability'to see life through the eyes of others. In our ministry of social justice it is seeing life through the eyes of the poor. It demands personal contact with people who are poor. It necessitates our taking a "learning stance" in the presence of oppressed people, listening to their needs, their suffering, being A Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice / 693 willing to be continu'ally educated by their life experiences and their contact with human misery. Empathy is the key to understanding and thus to be able to demythologize our views on why people 'are poor. Finally, empathy is the way to true solidarity and effective advocacy. Because God is the center of our lives, we can have a freedom from attachment---in the face of anything which is not in line with our primary goal: the will of God and the building of his kingdom, a kingdom which values and promotes human dignity, equality and development. Having our foundation in God allows us to be free from attachment to. any cause or issue, any insight or pre-conceived plan of action, any request, for action, or even our own fear of acting. It is the "single-heartedness" of the Be-atitudes. Finally, because God is the center of our lives, we can have a capacity for suffering--what Jos6 Magafia says in his book Ignatian Exercises: A Strategy for Liberation, "to rejoice in sufferings because they are the hallmark of every ,genuine liberating commitment.''6 Such a capacity en-ables us to make the fundamental Christian option of becoming advocates for the rights of oppressed people. It is also, obviously, intimately bound up with the preceding eight apostolic qualities and with the effort it takes to keep God as one's center. A capacity for suffering is essential for each person~s ongoing process of conversion, and we are all called to conversion: "It is too easy to throw back on others responsibility for injustices, if at,the same time one does not realize how each one shares in it personally, and how personal conversion is needed first.''r Just what is conversion ? One of the clearest descriptions the author has read is the following from Fr. Pedro Arrupe, S.J, Conversion is getting rid of something so that something else can take its place. It is getting rid of everything that prevents us from being filled with the Holy Spirit. Conversion, then, is a change; a change tfiat takes place deep inside us; a radical change. Let us make no mistake about it: there is nothing supdrficial about conver-sion. It is not, for'instance, deciding, after a somewhat more fervent retreat, to "give something to the poor," or to be a little more generous to one's "favorite charity." This is a praiseworthy thing in its way, but it is not conversion. Conversion is not a giving of something that we can well afford to lose. It goes much deeper than that. It is a putting away of something that we are: our old self, with its all-too-human, all-too-worldly prejudices, convictions, attitudes, values, ways of thinking and acting; habits which have become so much a part of us that it is agon.y even to think of parting with them, and yet which are precisely what prevent us from rightly interpreting the signs of the times, from seeing life steadily and seeing it whole.8 ~Jos6 Magafia, S.J., Ignatian Exercises: A Strategy for Liberation (New York: Exposition Press, Inc., 1974), page 117. rPope Paul VI, 1971, "A Call to Action," page 28. 8Pedro Arrupe, S.J., "Witnessing to Justice" (Vatican City: Pontifical Commission Justice and Peace, 1972), pages 25-26. 694 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 Our call to conversion as we pursue our ministry of social justice is not a one-time happening, it is an essential element of the Cross-Resurrection dynamic that permeates our lives as Christians. And conversion does in-volve suffering as well as joy. With God as:our center, we can have the courage to face our own need for conversion and the suffering that ac-companies it, Such suffering is redemptive. Conclusion We are,' each, called to a ministry of justice, but our ministry must take place in the rootedness of our faith lest we become simply good humanists or philanthropists. Our commitment must be founded in the love of God and the "Good News" of his Son. Although this may seem to be an evident" premise, it is easy to lose sight of once we become involved in actual work. We depend on one another for support, for.challenge and tolerance. And we are nourished in our commitment to act on behalf of social justice by our prayer and the Eucharist: in prayer, for it is here in the quiet moments that we can face the reality of just who our center is-~ourselves or God; in the Eucharist, because it strengthens us to face our timidity and fears, it calls us out of ourselves to be, like Jesus, persons for others. Now Available As A Reprint Prayer of Personal Reminiscence:' Sharing One's Memories with Christ by David J. Hassel, S.J. Price: $.60 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious 612' Humboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis, Missouri 63103 Taking the Long View Francis X. Hezel, S.J. Father Hezel is director of the Micronesian Seminar. based in Truk; Caroline Islands; Trust Territory, Pacific 96942 Not too long ago a gentleman visited these islands offering a new eight million dollar college as a gift to the Micronesian people from the U.S. Congress. His offer met with an enthusiastic response almost everywhere. At last Micronesia would soon have its own four-year college! Not a con-ventional college, but one that would be specially tailored for providing training in vocational skills or whatever else is judged to be educationally relevant. I was dismayed by the uncritical enthusiasm that greeted the visitor's offer, well-intentioned though it was. Don't people here know, I asked myself, that the new college will cost almost two million dollars a year to operate? A tidy sum, considering that the total amount of local revenues generated in the Trust Territory is only seven .million dollars at present. Isn't this gesture, I thought, a bit like making a gift to a poor friend of a good-sized German shepherd to guard his house, letting him know as you walk out the door that the animal eats five pounds of meat a day? tin any case, would a new four-year college of any kind help solve the burning question of how to promote economic development? Diplomas abound in the Trust Territory and marketable skills are on the increase. The real problem, of course, is jobs; and this won't be solved by adding another expensive education mill. As long as the goal is to develop Micronesia's resources and make the islands more productive, a new college with an increased capacity can only make a bad situation worse. If you want a person to spend his life in a fishing boat or on a farm, the worst thing you can do is plant him in a chair for another four years. He will very likely never get out of it afterwards. 696 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 Its the old story, I said to myself. Another."gift" from abroad; more hidden costs, social and economic; and the dependency rut gets deeper and deeper. How is it, I wondered,th~at this familiar story is repeated over and over again, even by individuals and groups that profess a commitment to self-reliance? Surely some of them must see the long-range effects of these projects. Consider the response to the Headstart and Old Age Programs, to use as examples two federal programs designed to benefit opposite ends of the population. No sooner was the Trust Territory made eligible for federal funds under these titles than every district opened an office, applied for government money, and began an earnest search for ways to spend it. The immediate benefits of the two federal programs were all too obvious: food for the young and the old, an income for those on the payroll, travel abroad for program directors and their understudies, and the promise of other good things to come. But how about the fact that the~palates of the young were being ha-bituated to breakfasts of tomato juice and doughtmts? What about the danger of families abdicating their strongly-felt traditional responsibility to provide for the elderly? Or the risk of weakening family and community ties, as still another responsibility of theirs is surrendered to a government agency? Then, of course, there is again the matter of furthering the eco-nomic dependence of Micronesia on a global superpower that has military interests to maintain. Somehow these last questions were overlooked in the rush to expand the district payroll and get money rolling in. A paycheck and cases of corned beef are just a bit more real than such intangibles as family bonds and ,psychological dependence. - Do I sound a trifle "anti-progress," or possibly even cynical?.Then let me make a public confession. Neither I nor the staff of the small private school of which I am director have altogether resisted the temptations of "easy money" from abroad. We are receiving federal funds from the six-million dollar Federal Feeding Program, as are virtually all public schools and a good many 'mission schools as well. To understand how an abomination of this sort ~might have happened, you would have tO put yourself in the shoes of a school administrator who is wondering how he will make it to the end of May. without going broke. Local support groups have not come through, the school accounts are just about exhausted, and bills continue to pile higher on his desk. Just then, in walks a federal program officer with a sheaf of papers in hand who proudly announces that he has funds to cover the entire cost of the school feeding program for the year. To the beleaguered school.administrator it is a heaven-sent answer to a pressing problem. Naturally he signs on the dotted line, heaves a sigh of relief, and then settles back to wait for the first check to come. ~ Taking the Long View / 697 That, however, is only the beginning.'A year later the school admin-istrator has to decide whether he shall continue to participate in the feeding program. He knows very :well that the 25 thousand dollars he receives will not raise the nutritional quality of the food one bit. Healthy food is some-thing that teenaged boarding students must have in ample quantity, no matter hbw financially hard-pressed the school may be. He knows that the Feeding Program of which his school is a beneficiary can only further re-inforce the "handout" mentality of a people long accustomed to looking to Washington to pay all their bills. He recalls with a shudder all that he has read and heard about the stifling welfarism of Indian reservations. But he calculates that an additional 25 thousand dollars a year would allow him to build a garage, a maintenance shop and new water tanks which he thinks that the school may need. And so, dismissing the uncomfortable concern he feels for remote consequences, he signs on the dotted line just as he did the year before. Like the others in the examples cited earlier, he has responded to the immediate need and left the future to take care of itself. Micronesia teems with persons like him (or should I say me?) whose decisions are based on answering today's needs at the expense of the future. Jobs, schools, roads and the like occupy our exclusive attention while the hidden costs of these "improvements" and the nature bfthe funds that finance them go uncalculated. This preocc~ipation with the sho~'t-term rewards might be called the national disease of Micronesia and it has infected every part of society. The employee who drinks up his paycheck, on Friday and Saturday to the sorrow of his family for the following two weeks shows acute symptoms of it. So does the fish dynamiter who pulls in his haul, rubs his belly, and leaves the shattered reef to repair itself---in twenty years time. Then there is the young college student who spends the two days before his semestral exams emptying Budweiser cans with his friends, and a week hence is looking for plane fare home from college. Is it simply an accident that a couple of years ago the theme song of the islands seemed to be "Help Me Make It Through the Night?" The people of an island press for Congress of Micronesia funds to erect a seawall, conscious only of the money that will make its way into their pockets, but unmindful of the damage to their sense of community that loss Of locally sponsored labor projects will inflict. Congressmen vote to ap-prove high-cost capital impr6vement projects to be funded by the U.S. knowing full well that the cost of maintaining these facilities will be a financial burden to Micronesia in later years. Top,level policy-makers cam-paign for higher wages for government employees, thereby undercutting any real hope of inducing young people to take up less lucrative but much-needed work in commercial agriculture and fishing. And ,everyone-- parents and educators alike---encourages the greatest possible number of 69~1 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 high school graduates to go off to college without the least idea of how they will occupy themselves when they return. Entrepreneurs with an eye for a fast dollar build supermarkets, bars aid moviehouses, thus helping to send the annual level of imports soaring still higher. Prominent businessmen who are. instrumental in bringing tele-vision into their islands make a killing on sales ofTV sets~ leaving the social consequences anti'the economic effects on families for others to handle. Political decisions, I fear, are made in much the same way. Nothing can convince me that the people of the Marianas, when they signed their Cove-nant with the U.S. two years ago, were as fond of the American Eagle as the dollar on which it 'appears. Yet money buys good things, as I have already ungrudgingly admitted. Whether, however, it will also purchase an enduring social bliss for the Northern Marianas remains to be seen. I have never heard or read a cogent explanation of what any of the separatist districts wants politically and I have despaired of ever doing so, although it is well-known what those districts expect by way of fiscal gains. I can only assume that they desire for themselves whatever their generous benefactors~ desire for them--whether these bene.factors be America, Japan, Nauru, or the Sheikdom of Aden. Surely it would be difficult to maintain that their decisions are. models of political far-sightedness, whatever else they may have to recommend them. But the rest of us are in no position smugly to point an accusing finger at those districts that have sought greener pastures---or, to be more exact, greener bankrolls--elsewhere. Which of the remaining' districts can hon-estly say 'tha~it would not have jumped at the chance to do likewise, had the opportunity been offered? We all seem to have fallen prey to this obsession with the immediate pay-off. It may be that this is an all too human weakness, but it is a frightening irony that our failings should be rationalizedqn the name of "progress" or "development." If development implies anything at all, it suggests a forward-looking approach---one that is as concerned with to-morrow and 20 years hence as with today. With the coming of foreign currency to these islands a century and a half ago, Micronesians were for the first time able to accumulate a surplus, to hoard, to save and invest. Money created the possibility of a "tomorrow" in these islands. By a strange irony, however, foreign money is now being used to freeze us securely into the present and to anaesthetize us against a concern for the future. Not that money, jobs, education, material improvements, and even federal programs are evil in themselves. The real problem is that these and other short-range benefits are so alluring that they overpower more distant considerations. And when they are offered to any of us gratis, their at-traction is practically irresistible. An announcment is made that some new federal program is offering funds to establish national parks, buy library books, or develop curricular materials for teaching the metric system. We Taking the Long View / 699 run to our desks' and concoct a proposal that will enable us to receive our share of the funds. Why not take advantage of a windfall while it lasts, we reason to ourselves. The trouble is that the objectives we set down for our programs can all too easily be inconsistent with or even run counter to broader develop-mental goals in ttie Trust Territory. There's certainly no harm in securing federal money to build a museum in which traditional artifacts will be displayed., or in providing emergency assistance for' rebuilding houses after a typhoon, or in putting up a new sports center at U.S. expense. But we must not be surprised if the cu-mulative effect oUall this on the community is to teach people that Santa Clauscomes to Micronesia every day of the year. Over many a desk in headquarters is posted the inspiring adage: "Give a person a fish and he has a meal today. Teach him how to fish and he has food for the rest of his life." It is very easy to understand how this lesson can be lost on our people today in the face of the mammoth give-away program that enervates our com-munities even 'as it showers on'them its material "blessings." Buyit~g canned federal programs is a lot like buying canned fish. It is inexpensive, convenient and satisfying---an eminently sensible thing to do. But there, are still those hidden costs to be reckoned, as we know only too well. Whether we weigh these costs in making any initial decision or not, they are bound to catch up with us in the end. Those of us who ~take a dim view of ~anned programs funded from abroad---and I include myself hereto so on the grounds that their long-term costs usually outweigh their immediate benefits. These "costs" can be conveniently grouped under three bro~d headings: social, economic and political, although some would want toadd "environmental" as a fourth heading. Let me now suggest a few examples of each. Regarding social costs we may say this. Programs that introduce into a community a substantial amount of money to build a road, erect a com-munity center or feed schoolchildren all too often bring about the pyscho-logical or social impoverishment of the community that they are intended to help. This happens when members of the community decide that it is more profitable for them to sit and wait for things to happen rather than initiate devi~lopment projects oftheir own. At this point, cooperative work by families on community projects sharply declines, and so does what we commonly call "community spirit." When most of its responsibilities are pre-empted by government agencies and alien institutions, the community simply loses confidence in its own effectiveness to achieve anything of real value. The same may be said of the family. As it relinquishes its respon-sibility for feeding toddlers, schoolchildren and the aged, the ties among its members will almost certainly weaken. The obvious question that must be asked of every development project, then, no matter what the source of funding, is whether its effects will be to increase or diminish the social fabric and sense of purpose of the community. 700 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/5 ¯ Micronesians commonly refer to their islands as "poor"--that is, as lacking adequate income to provide for themselves much of what they regard as desirable. For this reason, there is usually a mad rush to obtain whatever haaterial benefit~ the U.S. or any other country might offer by way of assistance. What is often overlooked, however,, is that certain gifts may make us poorer rather than richer. Expensive hospitals, water systems and airports are also expensive to rriaintain year by year--and the future budget of a "poor" group of islands is bound to be very limited. Moreover, some improvements can require an expanding network of expensive facilities and social services to support them (or clean up the social mess they have made). Take,the case of a costly new high school that is built of sufficient size, to allow all school-age youth in the area to enroll. Soon after the new school opens discipline problems multiply, since there are clearly a large number of misfits who have been accepted in the cam-paign to make secondary education universal. To keep the poorer students in school, a special program for potential dropouts is funded through a federal grant. A recreation center is built and new staff is hired to moderate the center's activities. Social therapists are trained---at additional expense-- and hired to counsel "hardcore" problem students. Mental health facilities and referral centers are established through still another program. In short, everything.possible is done, at prodigious expense, to keep in s~chool young people who never wanted to be there in the first place, As social services and physical facilities proliferate along with the pro-grams that support them, Micronesians are gradually led to believe that a society without expensive gadgetry and quackery is entirely impossible. To have a school without sliding classroom dividers or a hospital without sophisticated laboratory equipment becomes unthinkable. It is no wonder that Micronesians have come to believe that they can't live without an extravagant subsidy from abroad! Naturally this means that they will have no recourse but to continue living in the shadow of the American eagle--with all that this implies politically and militarily. Very few decisions today are simple decisions. Most have far-reaching implications on the future social, economic and political order in these islands. We know this only too well, of course, but all of us still must adjust to making decisions at times as if there were no tomorrow. Until all of us learn honestly and openly to weigh the long,term effects of our choices, not just count the immediate gains; we will be deluding ourselves

Issue 29.4 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to I~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63to3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 3at Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania tgxo6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical appro,'al 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 ~) 1970 by REVIEW FOR RELtO~OUS 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 p~rsons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where a~eom-panied by a remittance, should be scat to REvz8w ~oa RE~m~ous; P. O. ~x 671; Bahimo~, Ma~land 21203. Changes of addr~, b~n~ co~es~nd~ce, and orders ~t a~¢ompanitd ~ a rtmittanee should be ~t tO REVIEW ~R RELIGIOUS ; 428 East ~eston St~t; BMfmo~. Ma~land 21202. Manu~ripts. ~ito~al cor- ~s~ndence, and ~ks for ~iew should ~ sent to R~v~w ~oa R~m~ous; 612 Hum~ldt Building; 539 North Grand ~ul~ard; Saint ~uis, Mi~u~ 63103. Qu~dons for answering should be s~t to the add~ of the Qu~fio~ and ~we~ ~tor. JULY 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER4 MOTHER MARY FRANCIS, P.C.C. Creative Spiritual Leadership If we are going to talk about creative leadership, we shall first of all want to clarify what we mean by leader-ship and what we mean by creative. That these are not self-evident terms or even pr~sen.tly readily understand-able terms should be obvious from an imposing current witness to creative leadership envisioned as an abolition of leadership, and a transversion of creativity into annihi-lation. While it is true enough that, theologically ~and philosophically speaking, annihilation is as great an act as creation, hopefully we do not analogically conceive of our goal in leadership as being equally well attained by annihilation or by creativityl As God's creativity is to cause to be, something that was not, our creativity as superiors who are quite noticeably not divine, is to allow something that is, to become. As a matter of fact, we assume a responsibility to do this by accepting the office of superior. Much has been and is being written and said about the superior as servant. This is so obviously her role that one wonders what all the present excitement is about. Quite evidently, Otis role, this primary expression of leadership, has been for-gotten by some superiors, even perhaps by many supe-riors, in the past. But why should we squander present time and energy in endlessly denouncing such past forget-fulness? Let us simply remember truth now, and get on with our business. One characteristic of creative leader-ship is to point a finger at the future rather than to shake a finger at the past. St. Clare wrote in her Rule more than seven hundred years .ago that the abbess must be the handmaid of all the sisters, not pausing to labor so evident a fact but simply going on to give some particulars which have a ve.ry modern ring: the abbess is to behave so affably that the sisters can speak and act toward her as toward one who serves them. That dear realist, Clare of Assisi, who Mother Mary Francis, P.C.C., is federal abbess of the Collettine Poor Clare Federation; 809 E. 19th Street;. Roswell, New Mex-ico 88201. VOLUME 29 1970 497 ÷ ÷ Mother Francis REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS passes so easily from blunt warnings about such un-monastic natural virtues as envy, vainglory, covetousness, and grumbling, to airy reminders that it is no good get-ting angry or worried about anyone's faults as this merely deals charity a still severer blow--that dear realist had obviously run up against so~ne personalities who were "handmaids" sufficiently formidable to discourage any-one's rendering them personal recognition in this area. The abbess is supposed to be lovable, for St. Clare en-visions a community where sisters obey a superior be-cause they love her and not because they dread her. This was quite a novel as well as a radical theology of superior-ship in Clare's day. And if it remains radical today, it is a great shame that it sometimes remains novel also. The medieval saint makes so much of this point of the lovable-hess of the superior that she returns to it in her dying Testament, begging her successors that they behave them-selves so that the sisters obey them not from a sense of duty but from love. It's not just the same thing she is saying again, however. You note that whereas in the Rule she does not want any fear or dread of the superior, in the Testament she rules out dutifulness as well. It has got to be a matter of love itself. Who, after all, would want to be loved out of a sense of duty? It would be in-suiting, really. Any normal superior would rather be loved in spite of herself than because of her office. St. Clare makes quite a point in her brief Rule and Testament of describing the manifestations of this lovableness she so insists upon. She gives us her idea of creative leadership. And its present practicability may make us want to pause and clear our throats before the next time we utter that bad word, "medievalism," as an indictment. Besides the general affability which Clare describes in Rule and Testament, she underscores an availability rather beyond and considerably more profound than the "let's sit down in the cocktail lounge and talk about salvation history" mentality. St. Clare wants an on-site superior who is "so courteous and affable" (there's that word again) that the sisters can tell her their troubles and need~, seek her out "at all hours" with serene trust and on any account,--their own or their sisters'. This last point is particularly arresting, considering again that this is a medieval abbess delineating the characteristics of a creative superior as she conceived those characteristics in about 1250, not a 1970 progressive-with-a-message. Clare did not favor isolationism in community. Each of her nuns was supposed to notice that there were other nuns around. And she called them sisters, which was quite original in her day. She favored coresponsibility quite a while before the 1969 synod of bishops, taking it for granted that the abbess was not to be the only one concerned for the good of the community, but that it belongs to the nature of being sisters that each has a lov-ing eye for the needs of all the others. Again, there is her famous saying: "And if a mother love and nurture he~ daughter according to the flesh, how much the more ought a sister to love and nurture her sister according to the spiritl" Yes, it does seem she ought. And maybe we ought to be as medieval as modern in some respects. For some medieval foundresses did an imposing amount of clear .thinking on community, on sisterliness, on the meaning of humble spiritual leadership which we, their progeny, could do well to ponder. So, there's affability, availability, accessibility. When we read St. Clare's brief writings and savor the droll confi-dences given in the process of her canonization, we can conclude that this superior often toned her sisters down but never dialed them out. Then, St. Clare insists that the creative spiritual leader be compassionate. There is no hint of a prophylactic de-tachment ~om human love and sympathy nor of that artificial austerity which pretends that to be God-oriented is to be creature-disoriented. No, Clare says of the su-perior: "Let her console the sorrowful. Let her be the last refuge of the troubled." Note, she does not tell. the contemplative daughter to work it all out with God, and that human sympathy is for sissies. And she warns that "if the weak do not find comfort at her [the abbess'] hands," they may very well be "overcome by the sadness of despair." Those are quite strong terms from a woman who did not trade on hyperboles or superlatives and was no tragedienne. Again, she has something v~ry plain and very strong to say about responsibility. For we had better not talk about coresponsibility unless we have understanding of primary responsibility. "Let her who is elected consider of what sort the burden is she has taken upon her and to whom an account of those entrusted to her is to be rendered." So, Clare will have the superior clearly under-stand that she has a definite and comprehensive responsi-bility to a particular group of people, a responsibility which is immeasurably more demanding than counting votes to determine the consensus. She is supposed to cre-ate and maintain an atmosphere in which sisters can best respond to their own call to holiness. Obviously, she can-not do this alone. But she is the one most responsible for making it possible for each sister to contribute her full share in creating and maintaining this atmosphere. She is the ,one who is particularly responsible for not just al-lowing, but helping the sisters, and in every possible way, to r~alize their own potential. ÷ ÷ ÷ Leadership VOLUME 29, 1970 499 + + + Mother Frands REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~00 If I may deliver to any possibly frustrated or depressed superiors some glad tidings out of my own small experi-ence, I beg to announce this finding: Sisters are not as hard on superiors as many dour authors make them out to be. They do not expect perfection in the superior. They are, as a matter of fact, quite ready to pass over the most obvious faults and failures in the superior as long as they know she loves them and would do anything in the world for them, and is herself struggling along with them to "walk before God and be perfect," and having just as hard a time as they with this quite exacting but certainly thrilling divine program. Isn't it, after all, singularly ex-hilarating to have been asked by a God who has witnessed all one's past performances, to be perfect as He is perfect[ But that is an aside of sorts. The point I was making is that sisters will sooner forgive the faults of the warm-hearted than the "perfection" of the coldhearted. At least that is my personal observation. It is not faults that alienate people, it is phoneyness. And may it always alienate them, for it is nothing to make friends with. Now, if the superior is set to create and to make it possible for the sisters to help create an atmosphere suited to the response to a divine call to holiness, this atmog-phere will have to be one of real human living. For the only way a human being can be holy is by being a holy human being. I believe one of the more heartening signs of our times is the accent on humanness. For one of our tiredest heresies is the proposal that the less human we are, the more spiritual we are. Another aside I am tempted to develop here is a reflection on how we describe only one type of behavior as inhuman. We never attribute that dread adjective to the weak, hut only to the cruel. .But I had better get on with what I was saying, which is that dehumanized spirituality is no longer a very popular goal. This is all to the good. However, we shall want to be sure when we talk enthusiastically about the present ac-cent on real human living in religious life that the quali-fying "real" is not underplayed. It needs rather to be underscored. Certainly we would evince a genuine poverty of thought to equate real human living with ease. On the other hand, there is evidently a direct ratio between sacrificial living and real human fulfillment, between poor, obedient living and joy, between ritual and liberty, between the common task and real (as opposed to con-trived) individuality. Genuine common living in reli-gious life is not the witness of the club, but of the com-munity. Its real proponents are not bachelor girls, but women consecrated to God as "a living sacrifice holy and pleasing to God." Our blessed Lord emptied Himself, taking the form of a servant. And no one yet has ever been fulfilled by any other process than kenosis. Beginning with the Old Testament, history affords us a widescreen testimony to the truth of the binding and liberating power of sacrifice. It binds the individuals in a community together, and it liberates both individuals and the community as such into the true and beautiful expression of self-ness which is what God envisioned when He saw that each of His creations was very good. History shouts at us that self-ness is not a synonym but an antonym for selfishness. May we have ears to hearl Just as nothing so surely situates persons in isolationism as establishing a mystique of ease and a cult of comfort, so does nothing so surely both promote and express genuine community as sacrificial action, whether liturgical or do-mestic. This generation feels it has come upon the glori-ous new discovery that the world is good. It is indeed a glorious discovery, but not a new one. St. Francis, for one, discovered this in the thirteenth century. But if joyous Francis owned the world, it was precisely because he never tried to lease it. It is essential that the creative superior be a living reminder that our situation in time is not static but dy-namic, our involvement in the world urgent but not ulti-mate, our service of others indicative rather than deter-minative, and our earthly life not a land-lease but a pilgrimage. Somewhere or other I recently read that the one good line in a new play whose name I happily can-not now recall is the one where a character looks at a plush-plush apartment hotel and remarks: "If there is a God, this is where he lives." I seem to detect a bit of this mentality in some of our experimentation. This would be only mildly disturbing if it pertained to the kind of luxuriousness that keeps periodically turning up in his-tory until a new prophet-saint arrives on the scene to de-nounce it and expunge it from the local roster. What is deeply disturbing is that we are sometimes uttering brave and even flaming words about identifying with the poor at the same time that we are rewriting just this kind of past history. But that is another small aside from the large issue, which is real human living and the sacrificial element that is one of the most unfailing preservatives of that "real" in human living. The material poverty and inconvenience just alluded to is but a minor facet of the idea, but I do think it is a facet. Do any of us lack personal experience to remind us that the poorest communities are usually the happiest? Nothing bores like surfeit, nothing divides like ease. If it is true--and it is!--that the religious community does not rightly understand its vocation unless it sees it-self as part of the whole ecclesial community, the cosmic VOLUME 29, 1970 50! + ÷ ÷ Mother Frands REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS community, it is equally true (because it is the same truth turned around) that the religious community will be to the ecclesial community and the cosmic community only What it is to itself and in itself. The creative leader will want to accent this to her sisters so that they can accent it to one another. Not verbally. Just vitallyl we shall be to the Church and to the world only what we are to each other, no more and no less. And what we are to each other will inevitably serve the Church and th~ world. Every superior is called to be a prophet. Perhaps we could even say that this is her highest creative service in allowing and assisting others to realize their potential and release their own creative energies. Now that we are all nicely educated to understand that the prophet is not the one who foretells the future so much as the one who says something about the present, the creative superior's prophet role becomes not only clear but uncomfortable. Jeremiah would doubtless have had a much higher popu-larity rating if he had limited his observations to a pleas-ant, "Shaloml" It is so much easier to say "Shalom" than to say "Do penance, or you shall all perish." Of course, it is best of all to prophesy both penance and peace, but we shall have to keep them in that order. And our own ef-forts to achieve that real human living which has to be rooted in penance and sacrifice give abundant testimony that peace is indeed a consequence of penance performed in love, of sacrifice as a choice of life style rather than just a choice among things. Obviously, obedience is the profoundest expression of sacrifice. And maybe one of the biggest mistakes that eventuated into that maternalism in religious communi-ties which has had us running such high temperatures in recent press years, is that of supposing that obedience is for subjects only. Allow me another aside to interject here another small idea I have been nurturing. It is, that "subjects" is a very poor word substitute for "sisters" and of itself precipitates a whole theological misconception of what and who a superior is. Subjects are persons ruled over. However, a servant does not rule. We need to get rid of the monarchical connotations of "subject." And if we begin by getting rid of the term "subject," we may be already better equipped to understand that the superior, as servant, is the first "abject.in the house of the Lord." Once we establish her as abject, we shall perhaps be less ready to label her "reject." A creative superior will have to excel in obedience. It is part of her role as prophet. She must obey others' needs at their specified time according to their manner and manifestations. She must respond not just to the insights God gives her, but to those He gives her sisters. She should obey their true inspirations as well as her own. She ought to be obedient to the very atmosphere she has helped the sisters to create. For we can never establish a communal modus vivendi and then sit back to enjoy it. Life, like love, needs constant tending. Life needs living as love needs loving. This very thing is essential to crea-tive leadership. Charity is a living thing and, therefore, it is always subject to fracture, disease, enfeeblement, paralysis, atrophy, and death. The prophet is more called to procla!m this truih and to disclaim offenses against this truth than to wear a LUV button on her lapel. It is much easier to waste a LUV banner at a convention than to tend and nurture love in those thousand subtle ways and by those myriad small services for which womanhood is specifically designed, in which religious women should excel, and to which religious superiors are twice called. Real human living which the creative superior is called to promote, can never be anything but spiritual, sacri-ficial, intelligently obedient, and--yes---transcendental. We need not be wary of the word or the concept. The new accent on horizontalism is well placed, for many of us seem to have got a stiffening of the spiritual spine with past concentration on verticalarity. Still, if we adopt a completely horizontal mentality, we are apt to drift off to sleep as concerns genuine spiritual values. After all, the position is very conducive to sleep. We are most fully human when we are vertical. Yes, we reach out horizontally, but our face is upturned to Heaven. The really lovely paradox is that it is only when our eyes are upon God that we are able to see those around us and recognize their needs. They are, after all, each of them "in the secret of His Face." It is a vital serv-ice of creative leadership that it emphasize the essentiality of the transcendental element in real human living. In fact, we could more accurately talk of the transcendental character of full human living than of any transcendental element. The term of our d~stiny is not on earth. There-fore, we shall never rightly evaluate anything that per-tains to earthly existence unless we see it or are attempt-ing to see it from an eternal perspective. And we shall never really live humanly unless we are living spiritually. Certainly we shall never have a religious community that abounds in warm human affection and mutual concern unless it is a religious community concerned primarily with the kingdom of God. We can properly focus on one another only when we are focused on God. For to be fully human is to share in what is divine: "He has made us partakers of His divinity." The most natural superior is, therefore, the most super-natural. And real human living must be based on a val- 4- VOLUME 29, 1970 503 Mother Francis REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ues system that is transcendental. In these days one need scarcely look far afield to discover what becomes of com-munity when the values system is not transcendental. A group of individual women, each doing her thing, is' by no means the same as a community which has a thing to do. To such a community, each sister brings her own creative contribution, and in it each realizes her creative potential. And a servant of creativity is needed for all this. There is much more to be said about creative leader-ship, and others are equipped to say it much better. One can only speak out of one's own experience and with one's own limitations. However, it has been my observa-tion that cloister6d living does offer a certain insight into humanity which is sometimes different from that of per-sons whose professional qualifications doubtless exceed those of the cloistered nun. It's quite predictable, really. We ought to anticipate expertise in human living from those who have chosen to achieve human living in such close quarters. We should expect some spec~ial insights into humanity from those who see it at such dose range and on such limited acreage. So perhaps these simple thoughts may have some small point to niake. Let me add, then, only a final word about the realiza-tion of creativity and about the full expression of human living. We've talked about sacrifice, penance, obedience, transcendentalism. Recently, our sisters ran up against an example of a truly fulfilled human being. This was a priest in his seventies. At thirty, he'd got drunk. And a ,series of really devilish events conspired to turn that one mistake into a tragedy for which he was not responsible. He was used by bigots, manipulated by the circumstances they precipitated, and he was deprived of his priestly faculties. He sought help from his bishop who said it was all very sad, but he really could not do anything. He took it to Rome and got put in a file because, though it was all very sad, there was no canon to cover it. He turned to fellow priests who agreed it was all very sad, but they were very busy and there was nothing they could do about it. (I am very rejoiced to report that one Franciscan ~riar did try, desperately, to help.) No priest ever had more provocation to bitterness. He was the example classique of being treated as a number and not as a person. So, who could blame him that he wrote such vitriolic articles after he left the Church? Anyone could understand his contempt for the hierarchy. And when he sneered at the Roman Curia, you could only say that, after all, he had really had it. Only, the fact is, he did not leave the Church, nor did he write vitriolic articles, nor did he sneer. For forty years he lived the obscure life Of a workingman. He went to Mass each day. And he persevered in faith. God crowned that faith with exoneration of the past and the restoration of sacerdotal privileges only after~ forty years, but one can speculate on the interior crowning when one knows that this priest now offers dally Mass w~th tears that are neither self-pitying nor bitterly s~lding. He's just happy. He's just grateful. And he has obviously ex-perienced more personal fulfilment than any[of the local protestors, for he is beautiful to behold. And this is not to say that wrongs don't m~tter or that protests should never be lodged. It is merely] to offer for consideration the evidence of what suffering]and silence and unshakable faith can do in the line of creating a .I fully realized human being. Maybe supengrs need to point.up these things a little more than some] of us some-times do. ! I am scribbling some of this manuscript ag I watch at the bedside of a dying sister of ours. It's my !first experi-ence as abbess with death. And somehow all reflections on religious life, on community, on leadership, ~n creativity are turned upon this one deathbed in this one small cell. I lind it a very revealing perspective. Sister l~as a way of pointing at the ceiling regularly. And whdn you ask: "What do you see? What is there?" she does ~ot check in with a "vision." She just says: "Joyl" That is the direction to seek for it, if you want to lind it on earth. 4. VOLUME 29, 1970 JOHN D. KELLER, O.S.A. Some Observations on Religious Formation and Spirituality John D. Keller, O.S.A., is the rector of the Augustinian Study House; 3771 East Santa Rosa Road; Camarillo, California 93010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS There has been a great deal written and great amounts of private and public discussion on the subject of religious formation and spirituality in recent years. I hesitate, therefore, to add to an already prolonged dialogue. But I am encouraged to submit these observations to the wider review of the readership of this journal quite simply be-cause they are not those of an onlooker or expert but of a p.articipant.1 And they are not springing from the mem-ories (be they good or bad) of one person's own period of formation. I write as a member of a large diocesan seminary col-lege faculty and as rector of a small house of studies in which and out of which both clerical and non-clerical candidates are living life in community and preparing for the active ministry. I am not an expert, am not a scholar: I write not as sociologist or statistician or psy-chologist. I have a short memory as regards my own semi-nary and religious formation; with it I am not dissatisfied. For the past three and a half years I have been involved in establishing and guiding a rather minor innovation in the religious formation of candidates for my own order. For this lack of expertise I make no apologies for, I would judge, it is well that we hear more from those who come from the land of untidy students, not neat theory. It is a land where individuals correspond to no profile and frequently, alas, do not respond to the analyses and predictions of the community position paper makers. There is frequently quite a distance between theory and reality, between the goals and philosophy and plans of 1 This ~rticle is adapted from a talk given at the annual meeting of R~gion V (Western) of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men in Honolulu, Hawaii, November 3-5, 1969. community study groups and their implementation: pro-posed causes do not always neatly bring abdut their pro-posed effects. My intention is not to rehearse what is ~already (per-haps painfully so) known to you: Houses of formation, as the Church, are in a time of change, innovaltion, and ex-perimentation; initiative, Eersonal choice, ",apostolic ex-periences, questioning, persbnal growth, widening of re-sponsibilities, psychological, counseling ard all on the upswing and have occasion,ed, along with other realiza-tions and "discoveries," chafiges and propose~d changes in religious formation and approaches to th~ life of the Spirit. ' I would like to discuss some observations'I have made ¯ in living with and working with candidates and at the same time indicate the dire'ction of my thl~nking. Father Cuyler's recent report for CARA indicdtes that my thoughts are not without companyfl but there are cer-tainly many points of view. My experience i~ with college age candidates for a men's religious fxatern~ty, but these observations seem applicable in most cases ~o women re-ligious as well. I have grotiped my remarkS¯ under these three headings: the candidates; "format"lon~ ; and spirit-ual life. The Candidates It is axiomatic that our candidates are prgducts of our times. They are articulate; they have been ra,ised on visual media; many come from un'settled home cofiditions; they I are casual in their convers~ttion concermng sexual mat-ters; they respect honesty tb a high degree;' yet they are frequently infected with the cynicism which is prevalent in our society; and like youth of every age they are strug-gling with the personal resolution of the~ discrepancy between ideals and reality.,, ' A study of statistics indicates the number ~of candidates is lower than most of us hi~ve, perhaps been accustomed Io o to. What is most difficult t~ make a determination on is whether or not the quahty is better or, worse. Optt-mists have suggested that we have fewer candidates, but they are of better "quality'(--whatever that! might mean. Optimist or not, my observations are threefold: (1) Many candidates are coming forward with far less "background" as regards their prior religious formation than before. There are fewer presuppositions we might make as regards their general religious belief and prac-tices prior to their becoming.candidates for~ the religious life. The same may be said as regards their family train- I g Cornelius M. Cuyler, S.S., The Changing Direction o] thv Semi-nary Today (Washington: CARA, 1969). .I-÷ ÷ VOLUME 2% 197'0 ]. D Keller REVIEW FOR R[ LIGIOUS ing with regard to manners, use of time, their study habits, recreation, family life style, family authority roles, and so forth. These facts are facts of experience. It is not to say, necessarily, that life in community will be more difficult; but it does say that the trend toward longer pe-riods of probation and orientation is called for. There is a great deal that has to be "got used to." And we must be very patient. As regards background, there is a certain ambivalence in many candidates from another quarter. They are af-fected by a certain "image-lag." The monastic and tradi-tional concepts of priest and religious are still frequently present to the man considering seeking admittance to the religious life. Yet, for the most part, the candidate meets not the bell and cowl, but the call to be his own man and shirtsleeves. The men quickly adjust and very soon one-up us with their call for sandals and beards, but this is a crucial point for many as one image dissolves and the search for a new and more realistic one takes place. Candidates must be taken as they are and from where they are. The need at the moment, as perhaps it was also in the days of our own formation period, is for tremen-dous amounts of firm patience. (2) A second observation on our candidates: They ap-pear to me to be no more nor no less generous than other persons of other times and other places and in other walks of life whom I have known. To oversell their generosity at the offset is to provide the seedbed for the bitterness and resentment toward our new members which is sometimes disturbingly present both among men in the houses of formation and superiors of communities. Our candidates are aspirants--aspiring toward the ideal of Christ's generosity--but they are frequently selfish, their motivation (like ours) is not always 100% pure. And so in the proposing of our programs and in the formulation of policy, we want no penal colony; we do not want to poison the well of our trust in the possibility of doing good with a Lud~eran conception of man's ne'er-do-well nature, but we must accept the fact that selfishness and ignorance do coexist with a man's desire to make a gift of his service and of himself. High ideals coupled with selfish or inconsistent behavior do form a part of the men who wish to join our fraternities. This should not cause alarm: To help resolve this is one of the reasons for their being in training. (3) Our candidates, generally, come 'with the intent of joining in with us. They do want to be a part of what is going on in the religious family. A delicate process must be going on in which the men do feel that they are mem-bers of the fraternity according to their present commit-ment. They must be exposed to the community's mere- bership; join in (in differenlt capacities) the work of the fraternity; be closely linked with the style of life and values of the community. But at the same ume their in-volvement must not be too rapid: predetermined patterns and strong identification with the status quo might cancel out the fresh and renewing insights and contnbutxons of young members; premature inclusion might, make neces-sary withdrawal from the group more difficult or the need to withdraw less apparent; full exposure to all the prob-lems and "intimacies" of the family are not appropriate for the recently arrived and ~often can be a source of dis-traction for the real person,al work at hand. The need for committingl oneself to something is real and we dare not involve ourselves, once having accepted a candidate, in stringing hi.m along indefinitely. Candi-dates should become less and less strangers in our midst and more and more our friends and brothers, or they should leave. The task of formation is also that of inte-gration. Formation" The very notion of "formation" is under attack from some quarters: formation involves being "conformed to"; there is a mold, then, and the program is the cookie punch. Formation, then, is a, threat to the person and his own unique realization of himself. Formation, therefore, is bad and one more examp~le of the dehumanization of the individual not only present in the world but here too in the religious life. That is how the argument runs, and it is buttressed with innumerable examples from the folk-lore of community and convent. If this is what formation is.thought to be, or what it has been, it deserves condemnation. But this argumentation against formation may be refined; examples brought more into line with present practice; the extension of its con-demnation reduced--in gen,~ral, made more reasonable; and it will contain a more s~rious threat to what, I feel, must be involved in the intro~duction of new men into our fraternities. Candidates are joining a pre-existing group of men. They are joining themselves to and identifying them-selves with certain expressed, values and goals. There is a conformation element in the introduction of members to the community. This is related to the discussion by Branick of task and formation in the fine article pub-lished in the RrvlEw FOR I~LIGIOUS last year) This is a fact, I feel, which should not be minimized (personalized, yes, but not minimized). On the contrary, we must at- *Vincent P. Branick, S.M., "Formation and Task," R~vmw RELIGIOUS, V. 28 (1969), pp. 12-20. ,4- 4. + Formation VOLUME 29, 1970 509 ÷ 4. ÷ I. D. Keller REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 511) tempt to give in theory, practice, and the lives of our members a clear representation of our goals, our values, our style of life, our standards--who the community .is. We have an obligation to do this: The candidate has to make a judgment, and he has to be a real sharer in or tending toward these values, goals, and so forth or we cannot hope that his life among us in the future will be a happy one. This brings up a problem which is not the subject of these remarks, but which must be faced: We must have a rather clear understanding of who we are and what we stand for as a community. This does not have to be pre-sented in verbal fashion. In fact it is most convincing when it is seen (not read or heard); but if we have no standards, if we are not clearly standing for something, perhaps we should call a moratorium on accepting candi-dates. All of us are aware of the changes taking place in our houses of formation as regards house rules and discipline. I believe most of us agree with the general thrust of these moves and changes; we accept the rationale behind them. With them as a backdrop I would like to make the fol-lowing observations: (1) Freedom of choice and personally confirmed activ-ity are essential to growth in maturity. But people do make objectively bad choices. And when, with reason, a person's choice is thought to be a bad one, he should be told so. And if a person consistently makes bad choices, his candidacy should seriously be questioned. (2) Frequently candidates' principal occupation is that of studies. It is urgent that the academic program be ex-cellent, that it be demanding of the best the student pos-sesses. The good candidate wants to work; he is being prepared to work in the vineyard; if the candidate finds himself unable to work, he and his superiors, may take this as indication that he is not called to the brotherhood. (3) The period of training is real training for. There is a need, at times, for explicit correlation of the training and the work of the apostolate. This is particularly true of men in the college years. Not only the demands of the future apostolate, but also the present need of these Chris-tians to express their Christian concern for fellowman suggests the desirability and the practice of "apostolic works" during the years of formation. It is well that this be with men of the community already in the field; in works which are allied to the present and future works of the fraternity; that it be work with supervision and encouragement; that it be work with specific goals in mind and which meets the real needs of people in the area. But the experience of many is that this work can easily become overextended, irresponsibly carried out, and serve more as steam cock for seminary pressures than re-sponse to the needs of others. This is not to minimize the value and need of apostolic works. On the contrary, it is to say that because they are important, they deserve greater attention. (4) Part of formation today must include training in the forms of religious obedience which are taking shape in our orders. If the form adopted is one which is relying on consultation with the community, a kind of collegial-ity and consensus, then men must be prepared to accept this responsibility and share in it intelligently. What must be developed, in view of failures in practice which I have witnessed in our own formed communities, is the accept-ance of the fact that regardless of the form in which deci-sions are reached (perhaps after discussion, consensus, and voting), .there is follow-through: though perhaps now seen as more "horizontal," obedience is still a virtue of religion and a normal extended expression of the will of God. (5) In general, there is a great need in formation for more leadership, not less. For the most part, students want more models, more example. They need more en-couragement to reach higher. In this regard I would rec-ommend highly John Gardner's two books Excellence and Self-Renewal.4 And so while authoritarianism will never do, there is in some parts a crippling vacuum of inspiring leadership and demanding standards. Spiritual Lile From "formation" I would like to move on to the sub-ject of the spiritual life. And as I do I would like to call attention to the principal point I wish to make, and at this moment violate. Formation and the spiritual life should not be taken as separate elements of introducing new members into our life. There are elements of discipline and training which we can separate and discuss as it they were separate. But the overriding impact upon the candidates in the house of formation must be that all is marked by the Spirit. We are brothers because we are all possessed by the same Spirit: our rules, discipline, relations between older and younger members, concern for each other, should all be formed by and judged against the Book of Life and the book of our life together. In this regard, conformity to good educational prac- ' John W. Gardner, Excellence: Can We Be Equal and Excellent Too. Renewal: The Individual and the Innovating Society (New York: Harper and Row, 1956). Formation VOLUME 2% 1970 4" 4" ÷ ~. D. Keller REVIEW FOR RELIGIOU5 tice seems imperative. Theory and practice must go side by side. And if we must err (as human it is), far better to be heavier on practice than on theory. Let the house of formation practice a real poverty, let the students realize the cost of living, the budget and the crimp of doing without--far better than theorizing. Let there be good liturgy in the house and let it be a central work and con-cern of the community--far better than a course in lit- There might be one exceptionmthe matter of prayer. Many students are inexperienced in the practice of forms of prayer encouraged in our lives. This most personal and delicate area must receive special attention. If riot, we in-troduce the. possibility of impersonal prayer and innumer-able "periods of prayer" which become education in non-prayer. All of our houses, but especially our houses of forma-tion, should show forth this authenticity: 1.ire in the Spirit finds expression in the life of the community--a kind of symbiosis where there is an unconscious flow and tele-vance of one to the other. In all the seminaries and houses of formation I have come in contact with recently, there is a noteworthy point of emphasis being given in the task of spiritual formation. This is the increased importance and use of what has tra-ditionally been called "spiritual direction." It goes by dif-ferent names and the priests and religious involved in it have varying competence, but its value as being very per-sonal and very helpful is quickly appreciated by our can-didates. Though conferences and classes remain necessary in providing a familiarity with our religious tradition, no house of formation should neglect this tremendous oppor-tunity, nor should religious superiors neglect the effort to provide easy access to the spiritual counselors our young members need. One final point with regard to the spiritual life--the much discussed question of religious chastity and celibacy. My experience in discussing the matter with college stu-dents, candidates for the diocesan priesthood and for the religious life, has been that it is far more a problem for journalists, theologians, and men who are already celi-bates than it is for these men. That is not to say that they do not have trouble with the virtue of chastity, nor diffi-culty in whether or not to make the choice for celibacy, or whether or not they are Opposed to celibacy as an obliga-. tory thing. It is to say that they can see celibacy held as both an ideal and a requirement and feel that they can make a personal, non-compelled, and religiously mean-ingful choice in favor of it. This contradicts the conclu- sions of the recent CARA study on the Seminarians ot the Sixties," but I report to you my personal experience. General Observations I would like to bring these remarks to a close with several general observations on our present situation. There are many possibilities for styles of formation. Most communities are presently in the midst of inaugu-rating revised programs. What needs to be said is that most probably many forms will "work" and different combinations of elements can overcome the deficiencies of a program. Students are willing to overlook the inade-quacies, or at least give them their understanding, as long as we show ourselves aware of them and attempt to compensate--and all the time show the interest which proves we care about them as candidates for full mem-bership and our brothers now. Houses of formation and formation programs are not, nor will they be, perfect. As our congregations and the Church herself, the house of formation will always stand in need of reformation. This fact itself can be educative for our students: houses of training will not be ideal, as life in the ministry and full membership in the commu-nity will not be ideal. This might be a source of rein-forcement for the sense of reality in the candidate needed for mature living and decision. In these moments there is a great need for leadership and encouragement in the works of formation as there is in the Church in general. For new members in particular, uncertainty and hesitancy on the part of those to whom they turn for leadership can be not only crippling but also compound the lack of sureness (despite their some-time's cocky appearances) which surrounds the young. In conclusion, may I point out the obvious and be ex-cused for underlining that which stands in bold print: In the selection of personnel for houses of formation, hap-piness in their own calI must be the primary requisite for such an appointment. And yet one more point: most of our houses have small groups of students and even where the groups are large the cadre system is frequently being employed. This means total immersion for the members of the staff and large amounts of wear and tear. Each member of the entire community does well to attempt to offer them his understanding and cooperation. This, fre-quently, is a very large contribution to the task which is vitally important to all of us, that of initiating new mem-bers into our fraternities. ~Raymond H. Potvin and Antanas Subiedelis, Seminarians ]or the Sixties: ,,1 National Survey (Washington: CARA, 1969), p. 89. + + + Formatlo. VOLUME 29, 1970 HUGH KELLY, s.J. The Heart oj Prayer ÷ Hugh Kelly, is on the staff of St. Francis Xavier's; Gardiner Street; Dublin 1, Ireland. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 51,t "Lord, teach us how to pray." "When you pray say 'Our Father' " (Lk 11:1) That isa petition we must constantly address to our Lord. We must not expect to be taught how to pray once and for all so that we could exercise the art at will, as if we were masters of it. We must constantly be trying, ex-perimenting, learning. Of course if things between God and us were as they should be and as they once were, then prayer would be the most spontaneous, the most natural act of our life. It would not need to be learned. It would be as spontaneous as the smile of a child to its mother; as natural as the thrust upward of the cornstalk to the heat and light of the sun. There was something of that quality in the prayer of the Psalmist. The world about him spoke at once to him of the Creator. Everything in the universe pointed to God and invited him to pray. The sea, sky, earth, the'trees, the storm, the snow, the animals --all of these reminded him that he must praise God for them. Such a prayer was as natural, as necessary, as the act of breathing. It had not to be learned. It was a func-tion of man's activity. For reasons we need not stop to consider, that quality is no longer found in our prayer, or very seldom. Our relations with God are not so spontaneous. Man has so changed the world that it is difficult to see the hand of God in it. As a result prayer has become a complex thing, an art, that has to be learned and practiced with effort. Consider the excellent book of Cardinal Lercaro, Meth-ods of Prayer. It is a study of the different ways of prayer proposed by some of the recognized masters of the spiri-tual life. Each has his own approach and method of pro-cedure. But such methods could not be called spontane-ous or simple. They are elaborately studied. One of the masters, treated of by Lercaro is St. Ignatius. Here is how this saint introduces a prayer, the first meditation in the Spiritual Exercises: "This meditation is made with the three powers of the soul, and the subject is the first, second and third sin. It contains the preparatory prayer, two preludes, three principal points and a colloquy" (n. 46). Whatever the merits of such a form of prayer it could not be called simple or spontaneous. When we consider these different methods, which are so complex and so systematic, we may well ask if there is not somewhere in them a core or kernel of a purer prayer. If we unwrap the different layers, the steps, the tech-niques, shall we find at last something that is the heart or essence of prayer? "Is there.an essential prayer?" asks Y. Congar, O.P., "total, simple, which exceeds and em-braces all particular prayers?'; (Jesus Christ, p. 98). Is there something at the centre of each method, which is the same for all and which constitutes them true prayer? Something which, if absent, will leave them merely empty methods or systems? None of the commonly received definitions of prayer seem to give us what we seek. The definition of St. John Climacus, which is accepted by the catechism, that "prayer is an elevation of the soul to God" implies too much of a deliberate effort--that it is a matter of our own efforts and our own mmauve. It might equally apply to the study of theology, especially as it says noth-ing about love. The definition of St. Augustine comes closer to our aim: that prayer is a reaching out to God in love. Here there is indicated something spontaneous and natural; the role of love gets its recognition. But perhaps it speaks too much of our need of God and may be trans-lated too exclusively into a prayer of petition. It conveys the image the saint expressed in his phrase menclici Dei sumus--we are God's beggars; we stand before the Lord with outstretched hands. Our need of God is total; but our indigence is not our only approach to Him or our most immediate; it is not the ultimate root of our prayer. The words which kept St. Francis of Assisi in ecstasy for a whole night, "'Deus mi et omnia,'" "My God and my all," are certainly close to the heart of prayer. But they miss the essential constituent and inspiration of our prayer, that it is made to our Father. Obviously it is from our Lord alone that we must learn what is the heart of prayer. "Lord,. teach fis how to pray." It is instructive to note the promptness with which He answered that request, as if He had been waiting for it: "When you pray say 'Our Father.' " The condition of our most perfect prayer must be our assurance that we are addressing our Father, that we are addressing Him as Christ did. We are thus availing ourselves of the privilege which Christ won for us. When He said to Mary Magdalen, on the first Easter morning beside the opened empty tomb, "I ascend to My Father and to yours," He summarized His work of redemption: He ex-pressed the full dimension of His achievement. When we ÷ 4- Heart ot Prayer VOLUME 2% 1970 Hugh Kelly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS say "Our Father" with the assurance which His Beloved Son has given us, we no longer pray merely as creatures, we are not considered by God as the beggars who stand at the door, still less as the puppies which catch the scraps falling from the table. We know we are the children of the household who have their rightful pla~e at the family board. Consider how our Lord emphasized the fatherhood of God in the Sermon on the Mount. The chief purpose of the discourse was to instruct us in our role as children: "That you may be the children of your Father, who is in heaven." Stretching out His hands to the simple folk, the fathers and mothers who sat around, He asked: "Which of you would give your child a stone, when he asks for bread? or a scorpion when he asks for a fish?" We can sense the movement of indignant rejection of such con-duct, in their faces and gestures. No, no; they would never dream of treating their little ones in that way. And then He points the lesson: "If you, evil though you are, can give good things to your children, how much more your Father in heaven will give good things to those who ask?" The little spark of love in a human father's heart which will urge him to be good to his child, what is it to the love in the heart of our Father in Heaven, from whom comes all parents' love? Nemo tam Pater, there is no father like God, St. Augustine reminds us. How much His Sonship meant to Christ, we gather from every page' of the Gospel. It is the source of His joy, confidence, exaltation. It is the support of His strength, His endurance, His resolve to carry out the mis-sion for which He was sent into the world. His life was entirely oriented to the will of His Father, was totally responsive to it. That orientation, that dependence, is His chief lesson to us. We too are sons of God and it should be the deliberate effort of our spiritual life to give our divine adoption its true place in our dealings with God, and not least in our prayer. "Our Father" might well serve us as the true heart of prayer. But there is another phrase of Christ, equally short, and perhaps even more full of suggestion, which might well give us what we are seeking. He spoke the phrase on the occasion of the return of the disciples from the short trial mission on which He had sent them to the cities of Israel to prepare the way for His own coming (Lk 10:17; Mt 11:25). Seeing their naive, childish joy in their suc-cess--" Lord, even the demons were subjected to us"--He thanked His Father for revealing to those little ones the spiritual truths He had concealed from the wise and prudent: "Yes, Father, so it was pleasing in your sight." Ira, Pater: "Yes, Father." This is His shortest prayer, and it is perhaps His most comprehensive one. It gives us His abiding attitude of mind to His Father. It reveals that His soul and spirit were always open to the Father, al-ways fully responsive to the Father's will. At first sight they indicate merely a mood of resignation and accept-ance, such as He showed especially in Gethsemane and on Calvary: "Not My will but Thine be done." But the words "Yes, Father" have a wider and deeper connota-tion. They cover all the emotions and reactions which were His as He looked on His Father's face. They ex-pressed not merely acceptance and submission; they con-vey approval, admiration, joy, praise, and most of all a loving agreement with all His Father is and does and asks. "It cannot be questioned," says Yves Congar, O.P., "that the prayer of loving, joyous adherence to the will of the Father was coextensive with the whole earthly life of Jesus" (Jesus Christ, 'p. 93). Perhaps in these words "Yes, Father" we too can find the heart and essence of our prayer and in some remote way may learn the prayer of our Lord. After all we are sons of the Son; we have within us His spirit who inspires us to say "Abba Father" --we may then without presumption make bold to say "Our Father" or "Yes, Father." These phrases indicate a prayer which is contempla-tion. They give the attitude of a soul which is facing God, looking at Him, listening to Him. "All prayer," says Y. Congar, "is communion in the will and mystery of God. This essential prayer consists in being receptive and wholly offered to God, so that He might be God not only in Himself---but also in His creatures" (Jesus Christ, p. 98). This prayer opens out the soul to catch the influ-ence of God. It looks to God expectantly to see, to learn, to receive, to respond, to admire, to accept, to praise, to approve, to thank. It mirrors in some way the riches of God. It will try to express itself sometimes in our Lord's words: "All My things are Thine and Thine are Mine" (Jn 17:10); sometimes in the words of the Psalmist: "What have I in heaven but Thee and there is nothing upon earth that I desire besides Thee" (Ps 72:26). St. Francis expressed this attitude to God in the words "Deus mi et omnia"--"My God and my all." Thomas "~ Kempis has voiced it in his great hymn of love: "A loud cry in the ears of God is that ardent affection of soul which says: My God, my love, Thou are all mine and I am all Thine; enlarge me in Thy love" (Imitation III:5). This is a rich prayer in which the constituents of all other kinds of prayers are found. It can register adoration, praise, thanks, petition, reverence, submission, offering, accept-ancemall the different moods of the soul when it feels its proximity to God. The phrase "Yes, Father" gives an at-mosphere, an attitude which "is one of total prayer, in which seeing and self-directing to what is seen, receiving ÷ ÷ ÷ Heart oy Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ ÷ Hugh Kelly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS and self-giving, contemplation and going out from self, are all present, indistinguishably at the very core" (von Balthasar, Prayer, p. 65). This is substantially the re-sponse to the call of God. It is the response of the boy Samuel: "Here I am, for you called me" (1 Sam $:5). God made the first advance to man and spoke to him in His word: a word of love, an invitation to hear what God had planned and designed for His creatures~"Prayer," says von Balthasar again, "is communication in which God's word has the initiative and we at first are simple listeners. Consequently what we have to do is, first, listen to God's word and then through that word learn how to answer" (Prayer, p. 12). When this prayer of contemplation, of presence, reaches a certain degree of intensity, as with the mystics, it will be beyond the reach of analysis or explanation. The soul will remain passive, absorbed in God, knowing only how sweet it is to be so close to Him. But that state of intensity will not be frequent. Normally those who pray in this way are able to give some account of their meeting with God, to distinguish certain forms and fea-tures of prayer, and to realize how rich it is. We have access to the Father only through the Son. We are the sons of God because we share the sonship of Christ. Our prayer then must have the qualities of the prayer of Christ--we can speak in His words and make His prayer ours. The Father will recognize the prayers of His adopted sons as the blind Isaac recognized the voice of his younger son. There are certain notes and tones very frequent in the prayer of Christ which we must make our own. The Mass mentions these prayers explicitly: "He gave you thanks and prayers." And the Gospel testifies abundantly to them. They should be the chief features in our prayer. We should praise God just because He is God and most worthy of our praise. Our praise is the expression of the desire we have that He may be God in Himself and in His creatures. It is the theme of the first part of the Lord's prayer; it is the most frequent prayer of the Psalms. It is the highest, the most disinterested form of prayer. It is the opening note of the Magnificat, the prayer of our Lady spoken when the mystery of the Incarnation was at its newest. If prayer at its best is a loving attachment to God's will, then the prayer of praise must be the fullest attachment to God's will because it is God's will primarily that He should be God. The prayer of thanks may often be a variant of the prayer of praise. "We give Thee thanks for Thy great glory" the Church proclaims in the Gloria. We thank God for being Himself. Even if we owed nothing to Him, He would be most worthy of thanks just for being Him- self, the all powerful, the all perfect. But while fie is ill-finitely great He is infinitely good to us and therefore we must never cease to thank Him. That was the abiding mood of our Lord's soul: "Father, I thank Thee that Thou hast heard me. I know that Thou hearest me al-ways" (Jn 12:41). Our prayer then as sons of God must be as far as we can the the prayer of the only begotten Son, whose Sonship we share. It must express the fullest at-tachment to the will of the Father. It must be compact of adoration, submission, acceptance, all of these as expres-sions of love. We are justified in thinking that our Lady's prayer was of this kind, but in the highest degree. Her prayer was in a unique way a prayer of presence. It was fed from a double source. There was her interior union with the Holy Spirit who had come upon her and had done mighty things for her. But her interior contemplation of God and His design in the Incarnation was immensely deepened by her contact with her Son, the Word made flesh tlu'ough her. In a unique way she was in contact with the Word of God. She was more in contact with it than St. John and could give a greater testimony than his "What we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon and touched with our hands, concerning the word of life--the life was made manifest and we saw it and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life which was with the Father and was made manifest to us" (1 Jn 1:1-2). In the visible presence of her Son she was always gazing on the Word, always listening to it. We are told explicitly of her study of Him, how she kept all His words and deeds in her heart and turned them over in con-templation. This was most truly a prayer of presence. She had but to open her eyes and ears and her mind would be flooded with light. How deeply would His words and deeds speak to one so disposed to hear, to a handmaid so responsive to the Father. When she turned over in her mind what she saw with her senses, what floods of light, what insight and consolation came to her. Who could tell of her growth in the knowledge of God in the long silent years at Nazareth? What more appro-priate prayer could she make than "Yes, Father" in which she gave a wholehearted approval to God's designs? On the eve of His passion Our Lord could give a sad repri-mand to the Apostles--"So long a time have I been with you and you have not known Me." We feel that He could not have given such a reprimand to His Mother though her insight and knowledge were gradual and ever grow-ing. Her prayer must have been an openness to God, a love of His will, a resolve to accept it and do it that could be found only in one so deeply concerned with the eternal designs of God. + 4- + Heart o] Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 519 Perhaps in such phrases as "Our Father" or "Yes, Father" we are at the heart 9f prayer and can find in them that which was the core of all the methods. Perhaps if we bypass the preludes, the techniques, the preliminaries, and enter 'at once into the presence of God and greet Him in such words, we shall experience that our prayer will become what it should be: natural and spontaneous, a genuine communication with God. Perhaps we are too eager to do the talking, to tell God "various things He knows already." We try to take the lead in the interviews --we expect God to be the patient listener. But surely this is a reversal of roles: "What do we do, when at prayer, but speak to a God who long ago revealed himself to man in a word so powerful and all-embracing that it can never be solely of the past but continues to resound through the ages?" (yon Balthasar, Prayer, p. 12). In the words, "Yes, Father" or "Our Father" we take up the true atti-tude of prayer. We stand before God, we listen to Him, we wait to know His will and His good pleasure; and these short forms of prayer will reveal our response to His word, our docility and submission, our gratitude and praise, and first and last our love. 4. 4. Hugh Kelly REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 5~0 ROBERT J. OCHS, S.J. Imagination, Wit, and Fantasy in Prayer Robert: How do you mean? voices? Joan: I hear voices telling me what to do. They come from God. Robert: They come from your imagination. Joan: Of course. That is how the messages of God come to us. riG. B. Shaw, St. Joan. This article is in the nature of a plea, even a kind of court plea, for a fcesh look at what used to be called dis-cursive prayer. Inasmuch as it is a court plea, it is a plea of "not guilty." This fresh look might exonerate dis-cursive prayer of two charges commonly leveled against it: of being dry meditation and of being the lowest rung on the prayer ladder, a step quickly taken on the way to the higher prayer of quiet. As we shall see, these two charges are not unconnected. If discursive prayer runs quickly dry, it is no wonder people look for something higher and it deserves its bottom rung. "Exonerating discursive prayer of guilt" is a metaphor. But exonerating those who practise it from their guilt complex is not. They do feel vaguely guilty before God and themselves when they are unsuccessful at it; and when successful they still feela kind of-inferiority com-plex about its lowly status, a feeling that by now they should have advanced beyond it to the prayer of quiet. They feel the only way of progress is up, and so they re-peat their occasional efforts at the prayer of quiet, with middling success. There would be scant harm in this if the prestige of the prayer of quiet did not relegate them to the role of spiritual slum dwellers, blocking their imaginations from exploring the possibilities which lie hidden under the forbidding category of "discursive prayer." This plea has two parts. One is to broaden the scope of discursive prayer to include fantasy, affective reactions (annoyance, complaining, rebellion as well as fervor; 4- 4- 4- Robert J. Ochs, S.J., is a faculty member of Bellar-mine School of Theology; North Aurora, Illinois 60542. VOLUME 29, 1970 521 ÷ ÷ ÷ R. 7. Ochs, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS desolation as well as consolation), and, not least, wit, an imaginative use of our heads. The other part is histori-cal, a look at the original narrowing of scope of dis-cursive prayer in the 16th and 17th centuries, which soon brought religious writers [ace to face with the widespread "problem of dryness" and issued in the recommendation of the prayer of simplicity as a solution. Not that it was a bad solution. The prayer of quiet is an excellent method for those who can use it. Leonard Boase's book The Prayer of Faith, recommending it again so persuasively-some years ago, came as a real release for many. But I would venture a guess that for every person who was liberated by it, two others eventually felt them-selves hampered, and dissipated their efforts to explore further in a discursive way. And Father Boase's sugges-tion that the night of sense (which includes a night of the intellect), an intense but brief period for great souls like John of the Cross, lasts a lifetime for the common lot, sounded like a sentence to an unlivable life in the twi-light. Boase conceived the work of the mind and imagina-tion as a linear, undialectical, and conflictless a.bsorption of the truths of revelation, that reaches its saturation point rather quickly. It is pretty much limited to medi-tation "in the sense of methodical, analytic study of sacred truth" (p. 47). Not surprisingly, such a simple absorption process can hardly be expected to last a life-time, and before long "the sponge is full" (~i6). Further activity of the mind can only lead to boredom, and so one had best turn to a quiet contemplative view of the whole. Reading Boase one gets the impression that the evolution of prayer is all rather tranquil and uneventful. No doubt our poor prayer seems to prove him right. And yet, one cannot help suspecting that beneath the placid surface of our not very exciting prayer a passion-ate world is seething. The itinerary Boase sketches (ad-mittedly, I am caricaturing this excellent book a bit) takes us along the periphery of this turbulent interior world instead of through it. One has only to recall the eventful cri~es which mark the milestones in any psychoanalysis to sense that something is missing. Ronald Laing has sug-gested that for all our interiority we moderns are living in another Dark Age, before the Age of Exploration of the interior world. The model for "appropriating the faith" might well be exploration and confrontation rather than simple absorption. The eminent historian of modern spirituality, Louis Cognet, has recently tried to get at the origins of this atrophy of discursive prayer. In some homey and yet polemical pages (Les probl~mes de la spiritualitd; Ch. 5; also La prikre du chrdtien, Ch. 8--both Paris: Cerf, 1967), he has attacked what he feels to be a centuries old misunderstanding. The anti-meditation bias arose out of a series of historical accidents in the 16th century and has narrowed the scope of prayer ever since. As he tells it, theology in the late Middle Ages had taken on a highly rationalistic form, becoming a domain of specialists, cut off from interior sources. Spirituality was divorced from it, and therefore divorced from any searching theological activity. Methodical prayer, using simple meditation man-uals, was introduced to provide the uncultured with something more accessible. Thus "meditation" came to be associated with this new idea of untheological prac-tical prayer. Its practice spread so that even the educated depended on these manuals for prayer. By the time so-called mental prayer had become general practice, the impression was also well established that it built on a narrow intellectual base~ The theologically educated lived split lives. However imaginatively they might use their wits otherwise, "mental" prayer engaged their minds very little. Frustration was not long in coming. Cognet is struck by the simultaneous emergence all over Europe of a new problem for the religious writers of this period~ the prob-lem of dryness and disgust. Theorists had to find a way of explaining and coping with the distaste which seemed to afflict educated people who embarked on mental prayer for any length of time. The generally accepted so-lution was to suppose that discursive prayer was just an elementary stage. Dryness was taken as a sign that this stage had served its purpose and should be left behind for more simple forms. Discourse in words and images was to give way to a contemplative look. This scheme became generally adopted during the 17th century. We find it in St. Teresa and John of the Cross whose authority has made it accepted in treatises on prayer down to our own day. It was a good solution for the problem so conceived. It served to highlight the special nature of the prayer of quiet, for which many had a real capacity. But others who could not follow this way out, whose prayer re-mained obstinately discursive for all their efforts to fol-low the "normal" trajectory toward the prayer of sim-plicity, felt condemned to the meagre means available at the elementary level of the spiritual life. Cognet claims that this inferiority complex has hampered growth in prayer ever since. A realignment is therefore called for, Cognet insists. We must especially remind ourselves that the "traditional view" is relatively modern, and ruled by a particular view of prayer conceived to answer concrete problems of the VOLUME 29, Z970 4. ÷ 4. R. I. Ochs, sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS late Middle Ages and early Modern period. It was not always so. As far as we are in a position to reconstitute the prayer, of St. Augustine, for example, we must con-clude that he remained'discursive all his life, for all the contemplative aspects of his'prayer. This discursive form did not keep him from the heights of prayer. Nor did it keep Cardinal Berulle on an elementary level. Above all, we should emphasize that these psychological forms of one's prayer.are secondary, that it is one's relation to God in prayer which is fundamental. We should encourage a freer, more pragmatic attitude toward these forms, and arrange them less into stages. The psychological mani-festations of one's relationship to God are more a matter of temperament and style, and even of periods of one's life, which follow a rhythm back and forth from dis-cursive to "contemplative, rather than a set progression from one to the other. Even St. Teresa wrote abundant narratives about her prayer; and Jeanne de Chantal, after a period when she could not start the Our Father without falling into ecstasy, used discursive forms in the same way as the rest of us. Obviously, more is at stake in correcting this mis-understanding than freeing discursively oriented people from their inferiority complexes. (It is a bit hard to imagine vast numbers of people consciously suffering from the classical division into stages, in our contempo-rary scramble for any form of prayer which makes sense.) What is at stake is breaking open the category of dis-cursive prayer, giving scope for people to explore it with more confidence of finding something. At stake is healing the rift between theology and prayer in our own religious sensibility, learning to pray with our minds as well as our hearts (and theologize with our affectivity as well as our heads). There is no mindless prayer of the heart. Human affectivity is saturated with meaning. Closing the gap between spirituality and theology means breaking down prejudices built into the Christian prayer consciousness over generations, prejudices that thinking in prayer can only be idle curiosity, speculation about bloodless truths, asking impertinent questions pi-ous minds were never meant to ask. But there is the book of Job to make it clear that our minds were meant to ask. Surely a great curiosity about divine things is not foreign to prayer. Man was meant to argue with God. The Lord even demands that His people ask an explanation from him. The prophets had questions to put to the Lord who called them. And Mary answered the angel with the question: "How shall these things be?" Besides the prejudice against asking questions in prayer, there is another against using the imagination. Imagination and fantasy could well be what is required to bring heart and mind back together in prayer. Both theology and spirituality, as they are now, suffer from not being sufficiently tooted in the imagination. Discursive prayer does employ imagination and fantasy, but in a feeble, and, one might say, witless way. What is needed is a bolder use of fantasy.in prayer, a parallel to the bold-ness recommended above in asking questions of God. The Esalen Institute, for example, has uncovered re-markable abilities to fantasize in outwardly bland people. Its use of fantasy can teach us something. In guided fan-tasies, for instance, any blocks that occur are looked on as highly revelatory. A person embarking on a fantasy trip through his own body may suddenly find his body impenetrable, or, once inside, find he has no access to his heart. The important element to note here, for method, is that the person follows his fantasy, that there are things the person can and cannot do spontaneously in fantasy, because of their meaningful affective charge. This is much more concrete than our usual attempts to imagine our-selves present in a gospel scene where we try to elicit "appropriate" feelings and, when they are not forth-coming, dismiss our inability unreflectively as just an-other bad meditation. Closer to what masters like St. Ignatius must have had in mind is one case I am familiar with, where a man who had been unable to pray for years began a retreat by imagining himself at Bethlehem but found he could not enter the cave. Feelings of un-worthiness, and of simply not being welcome, blocked his fantasy at that point. He and his director interpreted this, not as an inability to "make the contemplation," but as a sign that he was praying; and he continued to imag-ine himself barred at the entrance to the cave in his repe-titions of the contemplation. After two days of this, dur-ing which the resentments and hopes of his whole past life welled up within him, he reported that he was in-vited to go in. The fantasy, with the block and its resolu-tion, was so much the man himself that it became the carrier for a real encounter and meant the turning point of his spiritual life. These short examples of how the use of mind and imag-ination might be broadened are, of course, not cited merely as .gimmicks, but hopefully as indications of a wider dimension and as reminders of how sluggishly we have used them in the past. Limitations of space preclude elaborating them more. Numerous qualifications would also be in order---discernment to avoid equating the in-terior world with God and our feelings with his Holy Spirit. But God does speak to us in our thoughts and. imaginations, or He cannot reach us at all. + ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, As a conclusion let me cite the words Robert Bolt gives to Thomas More in A Man/or All Seasons: "God made the angels to show him splendor--as he made animals [or innocence and plants for their simplicity. But Man he made to serve him wittily, in the tangle o[ his mind." The way through a tangle is discursive and dialectical. + + + R. 1. O~h,, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JOSEPH T. FORGUE, F.S.C. Religious Life and the Educational ApostOlate Apparent to many engaged in the task of reformulation of the structures of the religious life is the inadequacy of mere personalism to remedy mechanical institutionalism. What seems to be necessary is an approach at once task oriented while incorporating the wide range of personal concerns. The following--an interpretation of the docu-ment The Brother of the Christian Schools in the World Today: A Declaration-- is offered as a model of just such an approach. What are the brothers? It might be said that they are men who, with lucid faith and burning zeal, serve the poor through Christian education, by establishing them-selves as a disciplined community. To be sure, there are many persons with lucid faith and burning zeal; many who serve the poor; many committed to Christian educa-tion; and there are many disciplined communities. The Brothers of the Christian Schools, I suggest, are a unique dynamic convergence of faith and zeal expressed through Christian education on behalf of the poor, facilitated and sustained through the mechanism and mystery of dis-ciplined community life. Christian Education in Service of the Poor In the first place there is the logical and historical pri- ÷ ority that leads to understanding the brothers' coming ÷ together as task oriented. To be sure, the quality of their + corporate lives must go beyond the task; but the task-- Christian education in the service of the poor--is the ini-tial and sustaining motivation for the community. To b~ concerned with an educational task is to partici- ¯ pate in the cumulative process of building the "new age of mankind." It is to foster the development of the noosphere, that network of human cohesion based on the twin dynamism of knowledge and love. To educate is to 527 Joseph T. Forgue, F.S.C., is a faculty member of Chris-tian Brothers Col-lege; Memphis, Tennessee ~8104. VOLUME 29, 1970 ¯ J, T, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS provoke and to evoke an ever increasing growth in criti-cal self-consciousness, to elicit insightful understanding of the structural realities of the world. Education that is in the service of the poor is educa-tion which recognizes that the thrust of history pulsates primarily among the poor. Education that is Christian is education which recognizes that all structures are on be-half of persons, aiding them toward personal and com-munal growth in responsible freedom. Christian educa-tion in service of the poor responds to those who suffer from the imperfections in society and understands that to realistically participate in its task, there must be real and co-ordinated contact with all strata of society for the sake of societal change. The educational task of the brothers, then, ought to be both comprehensive: urban, rural, suburban; and far-reaching: formal and informal. Urban education seeks to minister to the persons who suffer most immediately the brunt of the radical trans-formation in the human self-image caused by the tech-nologization of society. The historic thrust of the broth-ers adds the further dimension: a preference for the. poor of the inner city. Rural education seeks to foster the em-pathy and radicalization necessary for those not touched directly by urban awareness--and this to develop a sense of responsibility for the solutions to the problems of the city. The educational task in the suburbs--similar to the rural task---seeks to promote a sense of unity with, and responsibility for, the city. The result aimed at: the shat-tering of isolationist attitudes reinforced by provincial governmental boundaries. In order to reach all the people, the comprehensive ed-ucational task must be far-reaclfing. The brothers are called to operate through the academic framework of the school (formal education) and to include as an integral dimension of their work various educational endeavors that are outside the regular academic structure (informal education). Disciplined Community Just as historically John de La Salle was confronted by the educational task that was needed and in meeting that need discovered the need for a task force, so the contem-porary need of Christian education in service of the poor requires the existence of a disciplined community. The interpersonal dimensions of men risking their lives to live together in celibate community are not to be slighted, but such dimensions are not the reason for the brothers' coming together as an institute larger than one community. If such were the reason, the need for cor-porate structure apart from or beyond the "local group" would be unnecessary. Hence in describing the Brothers of the Christian Schools such considerations are omitted. They are presupposed as necessary for any human com-munity; they do not specify the uniqu.eness of the or-ganized religious life. The Brothers of the Christian Schools are disciplined-- that is, they have structured aspects of their living to-gether to hold up to themselves the continual demands oI the educational task. Traditionally such discipline has been called poverty, chastity, and obedience. Under the rubric of poverty, the brothers deny them-selves the personal use of individual salaries based on the market value o~ their work, pooling their regular moneys to manifest that they have staked their lives upon each other. Chastity refers to their decision.to live a non-family life style, symbolizing (and making really available) openness to personal mobility to insure meeting the fluc-tuating needs of the corporate task. Subjecting the indi-vidual direction of their careers to the approval of the corporation, the brothers under the rubric of obedience have decided that their individual efforts on behalf of mankind shall be united to, and co-ordinated with, the corporate task. To the traditional disciplines are added two others: one corporate: liturgy--the other personal: meditation. In liturgy the community agrees to meet in communal wor-ship. That is, it agrees to attempt to understand its re-sponse to the world in terms of meeting the demands of the Mysterious Unconditioned. The community under-stands its mission as the mission of the Church: mediating through the dynamic presence of the Spirit, the Father as revealed in Ghrist. Besides the communal necessity to come to grips with the presence of mystery, there is the demand for each to do so in his unique "being addressed" by God. Hence the need for meditation. The disciplined community is a community: which necessitates the decision to enter into regular, serious, personal dialogue on the part of whomever the demands of the corporate task have called to be comrades. There is the concern that comes of risking one's life upon the persons who share the taskmthe concern which enables the brothers to sustain their lives of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Further, the community is composed of brothers who wholeheartedly participate in the common work required when men live together, who foster the formal and in,or-real study and thought necessary for developing corporate self-understanding of their life in Christ, and who, fi-nally, simply let their hair down together in joyful cele-bration of their comradeship. VOLUME ~9 1970 ]. T. Forgue REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 550 Faith and Zeal The members of a disciplined community who are en-gaged in the corporate task of Christian education on be-half of the poor manifest the spirit of faith and zeal. The faith of such brothers is the free response they give to the experience of being addressed at the very core of their selfhood by the Absolutely Unconditioned--me-diated in our traditions by Christ. Further, such faith is global since it understands the free response to be neces-sarily comprehensive, relating to all men everywhere--a catholic faith. The faith of these brothers is futuric since they understand that their free and global response is to the demand that they live their lives on behalf of the fu-ture of men--to build the Body of Christ. The free, global, futuric faith has yet another dimen-sion: it is grateful. Such faith rests upon the gracious cumulative presence of God in history; it is a faith me-diated in time by the Church. Finally, the brothers rec-ognize their faithful response to be ambiguous, always under scrutiny, ever in need of perfection through the systematic prophetic questioning of its authenticity--a faith on the brink of unbelief. Just as the brothers' spirit of faith has five marks, so may the power of their zeal be sustained and characterized in a fivefold manner. The zeal of the brothers is manifested by their remain-ing articulate about the multiple dimensions of their professional field--education--and the specific academic discipline of their speciality. Since effective work demands coherence and specifica-tion the zeal of the brothers is characterized by planning. They must decide to operate on the corporate and indi-vidual level in response to the researched needs of the world as reflected in the specific areas they find them-selves. Such operation must be systematically efficient and highly co-ordinated. The brothers must be guided by the spirit of Romans 5:1,5, living the reality of zeal in terms of patience and persistence. They must suffer the presence of obstacles to their goals, take heart in the struggles they meet, and develop a sense of humor that will keep them from b-solutizing any aspect of their task. The brothers, giving every calorie of energy to their task, will live in the hope which is born of worthwhile effort. Finally, the zeal which sustains a group of Christian Brothers must develop a sensitivity to the real needs of the poor in their midst: that they might burn with a zeal that is salvific for men. Unknown to them will be de-structive fanaticism or self-aggrandizing complacency. Conclusion Such is a suggested model for understanding the broth-ers and their being-together. Unless religious operate out of some such corporate understanding; unless they ac-tually do act with an impact that is at once local, regional, national, and international; then there seems to be little justification for the life style they have chosen. + + ÷ vOLUME 29, 1970 CHARLES A. SCHLECK, C.S.C. Community Life: Problematic and Some Reflections Charles Schleck, C.S.C., lives at 2300 Adeline Drive; Bur-lingame, California 94010. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The problem of community life in religious institutes today is beset by many different factors both those of an environmental and ideological nature. There are first of all the conflicting currents of pressure with which man is faced in our contemporary societyA There is, for example, the problem of mobility, the fact that men can and do move around much more quickly than before, from one job to another, from one profession to another, from one place of residence to another. There is the consequent "need for change" which this very fact of mobility can easily cause. And very often connected with this, and fol-lowing from it, there is the experience of solitude or loneliness, plus the consequent uneasiness which this causes, not to say anxiety and anguish. There is the pro-found need for love and acceptance, and men are willing to do almost anything in order to get this. At the same time we find the presence of fear, the fear of being ab-sorbed by the impersonalism of our society, the fear of being rejected by others, fears which account for the rather bizarre and defensive behavior of so many, and fears which also account for the profound superficiality and veneerness of the relationships which persons do have--even those relationships which are entered into as an act of protest against other interrelationships. So often our relationships today are often marked by many words, and the doing of many things together, but by very little real personal communication or communion-- of the kind which leaves us free and which leaves others free as well. Thus, many persons in our society today live in real 1See K. Jaspers, Man in the Modern Age, Doubleday, 1957; Marcel, Man against Mass Society, Gateway, Chicago, 1962. solitude, and this throughout their entire lives. This is due at least in part to the sociological uprootedness in which they are almost forced to live. Solitude is never more painful than in many of our larger cities where many complain that they can never be alone, and yet, in reality, are almost always alone, that is, without any real communication or communion of a spiritually and truly satisfying nature. There are others in our society who are psychically incapable of being alone, or of recollecting themselves, or of becoming aware of their true sitnation in the world. Life outside a crowd is for them untolerable, so untolerable that they feel a kind of a pressure or com-pulsion to do everything that everyone else is doing, especially those persons or those groups with whom they identify socially. Thus their frequentation of the same bars, or theaters, or dubs or discotheques and so forth. It is not that they really desire these things necessarily, but they simply must do them because of their need to be "with people" and their fear of being alone. Yet for all this frequentation and for all these encounters, there is little or no real profound and personally satisfying com-munication or communion, whether there be the com-munication or communion of man with man, or that of man with God3 Another reason for the problematic in community life today is the advent and current cult of the many insights into man given to us in and through the existential and personalist philosophies of our time. These teach us that there are three involvements that characterize the exist-ence of modern man who is bodily-spiritual. There is first of all the involvement of man in the world. Even man's knowledge of God comes from the world in which he is rooted by reason of his bodiliness. He cannot even be thought of in his total reality unless the world is also perceived or thought of together with him. In fact, even his redemption or salvation is connected with the world, because man is redeemed as a being-in-the-world, or a being involved in the world. In fact, it is through man that the whole of creation shares in the redemption and salvation. For sanctity or holiness which is the fulfillment of man involves not merely the offer of Christ but the response of man as well. Again there is man's involvement in community. He is quite aware that he is dialogical, that he is not simply a being-in-the-world, but a being-in-the-world-with-others, that he is a listener as well as a speaker. He does not stand alone in society; he stands always in relation to others in society. While he possesses his own personal and indi-vidual natnre, and this in a unique way, still he cannot =See Ignace Lepp, The Ways o] Friendship, Macmillan, N.Y., 1966, pp. l,gff. ÷ ÷ ommunity " Li~e VOLUME 29. 1970 ~. A~ Schteck REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS develop his nature or his person alone; he can do this only in and through the human community, that is, through other human persons. He sees his environment and his becoming and development, as intimately linked up with presence, the presences and influences of other persons, or with the interactivity of many interpersonal relationships. If man has selfhood, he is given this so that he may encounter other human persons who by their presences and interactivity will contribute to his whole-ness and personal fulfillment. No man is an island; and if his personal talents and capabilities are to unfold, if he is to become himself, completely this person which at first he is only potentially, if he is to become uniquely and personally creative, then the unique powers and gifts he has must be awakened .and stimulated to growth through the presence and interaction of others. And thirdly, there is man's involvement in history. There is not one moment of his life when man can be said to possess his own existence fully. What he is now, he became as a result of his past, and it is what he is now --including this past--that leads him on toward the fu-ture, a future to which he is even now already reaching out. Thus, every human life bears the stamp of outside forces, even though it is also internally being shaped by God and by the individual himself. Man's being and person are being shaped not bnly by the apparently autonomous forces of God and himself but also by the coexistential forces of his living moment, those of the hu-man community in which the forces of history are accu-mulated. While man's decisions are free, they' are not made in any kind of vacuum. They have their roots in the soil of human society and its history. And this means both the past and the future as well as the present, since the past and the future enter into our here and now de-cisions to a great extent, greater than many of us imagine. Man lives historically or in history, and he is involved very much in the ebb and flow of history. In short we find many currents impacting on man and his situation in the world today, currents that almost force themselves on us in spite of ourselves. There is the emphasis on personalism, the search for personal fulfill-ment or happiness, the need for independent and respon-sible action, the insistence on the primacy of the person over the society--at least when this is considered in its form of institution or organization--which is considered as being at the service of the person. There is the em-phasis on fellowship, on the sacramentality of our brother, on brotherhood in the sense of togetherness, collabora-tion, teamwork, complementarity, mutual enrichment, or completion, through interpersonal relationships and ac-tivity. There is the preoccupation of modern man with the "world" and the need for religious who are trying to be fully human and Christian to enter as completely as possible into all that is human and can be consecrated to God. The world is our world and we hold a serious responsibility in reference to what it is going to become, and we hold this in communion and cooperation with each other. Therefore, we must be involved in the world and in the human community--in order to become per-sons ourselves and in order to help shape the destiny of man in history, in order to help others become persons themselves.3 Still another source of the problematic regarding com-munity life in religion is the manifold way in which the expression "community" is understood by different per-sons today. As we find in so many other areas of human relationships, our problem often becomes a linguistic problem--we use the same word and yet we do not mean the same thing. The theologian or canonist will mean one thing by the word "community" whereas the sociologist or the psychologist might mean something quite distinct; and possibly the cultural anthropologist might mean something different from all these. And then again, dif-ferent theologians or different canonists, or different so-ciologists or different p?ychologists or different cultural anthropologists might mean different things by the same word. What the theologian refers to when he uses the word "community" within the sphere of his science is a group or corporate entity that we know and regard in and by and through the light of faith, or a community or group that is established and built on a faith vision of one kind or another. What the canonist will mean by the word "community" is a group of persons that lives together following certain norms or laws established by the com-petent authority empowered to establish those rules and regulations. Yet a psychologist or a sociologist would be speaking of something entirely other, of a group of per-sons or an association of persons viewed according to the norms and principles of the behavioral science which they represent. For a good number of psychologists, the word "commu-nity" would refer to a group of persons whose quality and depth of interpersonal relationships would establish them in some kind of communion of unity, personal unity or unity and communion of persons. Thus, they would stress the sacredness of the person, his need to be ful-filled within an expansive and free community. They would stress that persons are ends in themselves, im-portant for who they are as well as and even more so 8See Otto Semmelroth, S.J., The Church and Christian Belie], Deus Books, Paulist Press, N.Y., 1966, pp. 81-3. + + + Community Life VOLUME 29, 1970 ÷ ÷ RENEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~536 than for what they do. They would stress that a diversity of works and personal talents is a good thing in a group, precisely because this variety evokes the actualization of the full range of the human potential which exists within the group and because it also creates the possibility for adaptive changes within the group enriching its total view and being and action. They would also stress the fact that the insights of the person-members serve the community, that personhood is a process, a reality that is not achieved simply in virtue of existing together, but rather by personal exchanges, the kind that imply ac-ceptance of change within the persons "and also a realistic knowledge and acknowledgment of human fallibility. They would emphasize that self-revelation and accept-ance of others, far from working to the destruction of the unity of the group, enhance both the person and the group or community as well. In fact it is these very things that provide the basis for continuing growth in under-standing and love on the part of the various members of the group. The sociologist would be concerned with community within the framework of group formation and operation. He might tend to emphasize the professional and the adult relationships of the members and tend to look at the group in terms of its ability to carry out goals and ob-jectives with some kind of e~ciency. Or he would tend to emphasize or look at a community as a social group phenomenon which identified or did not identify with this or that value system. For example, among the many distinctions which sociologists have made to clarify the social reality of "community" was the introduction of the notions of "gemeinschaft" and "gesellschaft." The first term refers to a community in the sense of a communal collectivity based on diffuse emotional attachments exist-ing between the members. The second term refers to a communal collectivity that rests primarily on the con-scious choice of specific objectives on the part of the membership. This division might approximate what we often call a division of community into a community as home, and a community as service organization. The sociologist is often far more interested in the second kind of "community" than in the first, that is, in the associational community or "gesellschaft" than in the emotional community or "gemeinschaft." Affective rela-tionships are and will indeed remain important to the sociologist, but he does not see them as constituting the totality of human existence, that if they did, they would soon lead a community to becoming dysfunctional or non-functioning, reduced to a kind of love-in experience or amateur group therapy unit rather than an adult associa-tional group having specific objectives. He would see that in some circumstances the affective relationslfips and the constant search for these on the part of a group would simply tend to desu'oy effective performance on the part of the group and to render their associational objectives impossible or difficult to achieve. He would stress that there should be organic solidarity in the membership of the group, and this such that there would be more than mere juxtaposition, but rather an interdependent divi-sion of labor, the key to which would be not that diversity in which each part goes its own way, but that kind of diversity in which each part is deeply concerned with meaningful exchange and for the good of each part, but for this good in reference to the good of the whole. The sociologist is very much concerned with preserving the sovereign demands of the common good together with the dignity of the person. To employ a rather practical example: A sociologist would see that in the case of liturgical experimentation by different groups, this should be concerned with the functional or service con-tributions which this group is making to the larger whole, and not with its own personal wishes or the indi-vidual affective relationships which exist ~znong the cele-brating group. He could easily accept the principle of a pluralistic liturgy based on the notion of vocation or profession, in which each societal role and its contribu-tion to the life of the totality would permit diversity and " yet stress organic solidarity, for example, a Mass for pro-fessionals, for factory workers, and so forth. But he would also tend to consider that it is a fruitless task on the part of liturgists in their attempt to achieve togetherness in the liturgy to try to define their problem in terms of supernatural charity becoming translated into human emotion. A person need not feel affection for another in order to have charity toward this other person, nor need charity always express itself in a social relationship which is defined as affective. Christian love may impel a man to lend a helping hand to another, but this is quite an-other phenomenon than that of holding hands for the sake of holding hands. Though the temptation to unite these two forms or expressions is very great by reason of an appealing and yet rather false idealism, liturgical forms must respect the fact that this equation is fre-quently impossible. The good Samaritan did not form an I-Thou relationship with the man who fell in with thieves, at least if we accept this according to the terms of some psychologists. He bandaged his wounds, put him on his pack-animal, took him to an inn and gave the inn-keeper money to cover the expenses, and went on his way.4 'See R. Potvin, "The Liturgical Community: Sociological Ap-praisal," in Experiments in Community, Liturgical Conference, ÷ 4- Community Li]e VOLUI~IE 2% 1970 4. To further complicate the linguistic problem or the problem of and in communication, the word "apostolic" has also undergone an evolution in meaning. In the New Testament it involved two elements: (1) a kind of juridi-cal element, that is, a commissioning by Christ for some form of leadership in the Church; and (2) a kind of charismatic element, that is, a vision or experience of the risen Lord. The word "apostle" and its corresponding adjective were more or less limited or concentrated on a certain well-defined group of persons in the first genera-tion of Christian history. Gradually, however, the word took on other meanings. It referred to what could be traced back to the Apostles, for example, their writings, their doctrines, their traditions, and so forth. It was later on extended to refer to the Roman See, the Roman Pon-tiff, and finally to the Roman Catholic Church described as the "apostolic Church." Later on in the Middle Ages the word "apostolic" was used to describe a life or life style that was conformable with that instituted by the Apostles of the primitive Church. Thus the monks were Wash. D.C., 1968, pp. 90-3. "Many people use the word community to imply a group welded together by affective bonds, a love-in whereby emotional attachments are generated and maintained. Christian community and the cultic symbols which surround the eucharistic feast should not be reduced to a notion of community with affective overtones . It is unfortunate that the word com-munity and family should be abused as much as they are. The problem is not simply one of definition since the meaning of the words can and does differ in various contexts. The confusion re-sides in the arbitrary conjunction of the elements of one meaning with those of another, and in not realising that they are often mutually exclusive. The end result is frequently little else than stagnant unrealism which precludes the understanding of the social and spiritual realities which are being discussed. Thus the totality of the community of God's people is not a community in the strict sense of the word. Its unity is not the unity of affective homogeneity. It is not emotional attachment nor that of primary, deep, total relationships between people. It is not the unity which arises from the sharing of common territory--all contemporary definitions of community. These exist within the community of the faithful, but they are not that community, nor can their characteristics be at-tributed to it as such. In fact we are in the secular city of God and we have moved from a tribal unity with its kin-like bonds to the unity of the technopolis. As Harvey Cox suggests, there is another alternative to Buber's dichotomy between an I-It relationship and the I-Thou encounter. It is the I-You relationship which is at the base of the secular city. The unity which is characteristic of the contemporary world is a functional unity of diversity whereby people are of service to each other, and one which can be devoid of affecfive connotations, which at times must be devoid of such personal overtones if the common welfare and the 'interests of our fellow men' are to be achieved. Sociologists would say that such unity is based primarily on associational and not communal rela-tionships. In other words, it is not necessary that the baker know personally and like the plumber for the two to be of service to each other. It is even conceivable that if they did their mutnal service might be less efficient." thought to be living an apostolic life by reason of their practice of the common life and preaching. And they were said to be living in conformity with the first community in Jerusalem. While it is true that these elements--com-mon life and the ministry of preaching--were found in diverse ways in different groups, so long as these two ele-ments were in some way present, the group was said to be living the apostolic life. In the sixteenth century the word was again slightly modified. It began to refer to those persons or groups of persons who were sent by the Church to preach the gospel and to live or practice the virtues which the fulfillment of mission entailed. It was not so much a question of their imitating the life of the Apostles, but rather of participat-ing or sharing in their mission. Even semi-cloistered nuns spoke of themselves as having the "apostolic" spirit, cause they participated in the spirit of the apostolic mis-sion, namely, the redemption of mankind. Finally, the word "apostolic" received another altera-tion in recent times. With the advent of Catholic Action, the laity was said to have an "apostolic vocation." It would seem to be this use of the word "apostolic" that brought into being its highly "quantitative" aspect. Some persons were said to be more apostolic than others. Some works were said to be more apostolic than others. And finally some groups and' even religious institutes were said to be more or less apostolic than others depending upon the degree to which they engaged in external works. Under Plus XII an attempt was made to correct some of the inadequate implications of such a use of the word. He spoke of completely enclosed communities as leading a life that was essentially and wholly "apostolic." Thus the word "apostolic" would seem to admit of several essential elements, one ontological--a life that is con-nected with the inner life of the Church, with the life of agape or charity; and the other phenomenological--the various concrete ways or expressions in which the life of agape or charity can be expressed and mediated both in being and operation by persons, or groups, or even re-ligious communities. While we should be able to distin-guish one or other element in the word "apostolic," it would seem to be the wiser thing not to dissociate them from one anothbr, or dichotomize them in our practical attitudes. This could easily give rise to a triumphalism of one kind or another, contemplative or active, and both of these could simply establish more snob clubs in a Church where we already have enough. This linguistic problem or problem in communica-tion is not limited to the area of community. We find it existing in many other areas today. In regard to the area of family planning, for example, during the years in 4- 4- 4. Community lilt VO~UM~ ~, ;~o C. d. $chleck REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~40 which the papal commission met, it was quite obvious that there were problems, and serious ones, involving the use of language and words and expressions. Words used were the same, but the ~neanings and emphases, the cate-gories and selective placement of values connected with these words, were extremely diverse.5 This linguistic problem is a real problem. And it would seem to me that because we do not spell out the exact and rather well-defined limited idea or meaning which we have in using the word "community" we come to the rather quick and open conflict concerning the idea of "community" which we experience today. An approach, for example, that would be primarily sociological would easily emphasize an aspect of community or group asso-ciation that is the object of the science of sociology, and it would tend to emphasize the tools and instruments which this behavioral science normally employs. The same would be true if a psychologist Were to approach the same problem. Yet the theological dimensions of community, and the theological presuppositions of com-munity life within a religiously motivated group of per-sons, or a group which faces community with the back-ground of a faith vision, for example, sin-redemption, the ambiguity of man in the world, the manifold dimen-sions of the evangelical counsels, and so forth, might be ignored, even perhaps purposely or intentionally; and this, not because of any hostility toward these dimensions on the part of the experts involved, but simply because these dimensions might not be the specific area of con-cern or competence of a psychologist or sociologist. Yet the practical impact of this presentation could bring about a rather different net result than would be proper or correct; it might bring about a primacy of an entirely different value system as far as "community life in a re-ligiously motivated and assembled group" than should really be the case. The fault would not lie with the sciences or the experts in question, if and when they operate within the limited and specific sphere of their competence, but in the imperialistic attempt on the part of any one of them to make itself or himself supreme where and when it or he is not supreme. The same thing would be true in the case of the Scripture scholar or theologian if they attempted to pronounce on some topic or point which was a point of these sciences and not neces-sarily that of revelation. Thus, there are many complexities within the total understanding of "community life in religion," many of which are perhaps approached much too facilely and ~ See Donald N. Barrett, "The Sociology of Religion: Science and Action" in Sociological Analysis, Winter, 1967, pp. 177-8. without much depth of insight as to the real subtleties of the problem. There are theological or revealed dimen-sions of the idea of "community" which would show that the call to community is not really something special in the sense of unique to religious, such that only they are called to express this reality. All Christians are called to express it, even though not all are called to express it within the framework of associations such as religious are called to be. Moreover, this Christian approach or re-vealed approach to community would show that the Christian ethic gives to already existing human relation-ships new dimensions and exigencies by transforming them through a new specifically Christian basis: the life of the Pneuma of Christ. Secondly, there are other dimensions besides the re-vealed one. There are the behavioral dimensions men-tioned above, sociological, psychological, cultural, and so forth. And finally, there are juridical dimensions in-volved in the notion of "community," that is, certain legal requirements or dimensions established by the agency which gives a group its status, public or civil or ecclesial. In the case of religious communities of public vows, we are told that they are by definition stable forms of life, or stable life styles providing their membership with an organized way of living the evangelical counsels. And thus it is quite reasonable to expect that there would be in their case juridical dimensions to establish and as-sure this stability. This note is referred to in the Per[ectae caritatis and in the sixth chapter of Lumen gentium as well as in Ecclesiae sanctae. By reason of the religious community's being a public and official organ of the Church-sacrament, the hierarchical element of the Church gives it something of the incarnational structure and composition which the Church itself was given by Christ. It is for this reason that the hierarchical element of the Church approves not merely the soul or the spirit dimen-sion of a religious community's life style, but also the fundamental delineations of its body expression or its bodiliness--this for reasons of distinction, and comple-mentarity, organic solidarity, and related identity. The reasonableness of this juridical dimension for publicly approved religious institutes or communities does not mean that the counsels or a life dedicated to Christian service cannot be lived outside such a framework, or within a community or association of persons having no official or public approbation. Such groups have always existed in the Church historically, either by choice of the persons themselves who did not want any such approba-tion for one or other reason; or by choice of the approv-ing agency or arm, estimating that such a group or groups 4. 4, 4- Community Lite VOLUME Zg, 1970 541 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS do not have that degree of stability which they feel war-rants public approbation, at least for the time being.B These are only some of the factors involved in the problem of community and in the problem of man in community, of man looked at in the totality of his personality and condition. It is a problem that will never see any completion or perfectly satisfactory solution. But it would seem to the present writer that many of the problems or at least some of them which religious com-munities are facing today in their desire for renewal could better be resolved by a more clear-cut understand-ing of just what the problem is, or better, just where the sources of problematic lie. Then there must be a re-assertion of certain ideas, especially those of a theological nature, which are involved in the establishment of a community that gathers its members together for religious motives or purposes, those revealed within the Scriptures. In the expression "religious community" the adjective "religious" is just as important as the adjective "rational" in the expression "rational animal." And while it is true that this adjective does not describe all the dimensions and complexities involved in those associations of persons which we call religious institutes or communities, it does point to that dimension which distinguishes these kinds of associations from other kinds not based primarily on religious motives; Consequently, in the remainder of o This does not mean that one may not question the advisability of certain decisions regarding disciplinary and other such matters, for example, the current questioning regarding the legally im-posed uniform pattern for all apostolic institutes. Seeking a greater flexibility in the new legislation for the application of the particu-lar charisms of each institute is one thing; operating as if this were already an accomplished fact, without asking the permission to ex-periment contrary to the Code where this is requested by the compe-tent authority, and thereby facing authority with a fair accompli is quite another. If modern man claims to be so mature, it would seem that the presence of courtesy should be more present today than before. At times one wonders whether this is true. ~ In one of his weekly addresses the pope referred to one of the problems of our times as the phenomenon of anthropocentric reli-gion: "Religion must be by its very nature theocentric, oriented toward God as its first beginning and its final end. And after that toward man, considered, sought after, loved in terms of his divine derivation and of the relationships and duties which spring from such a derivation . To give in religion preeminence of humani-tarian tendencies brings on the danger of transforming theology into sociology, and of forgetting the basic hierarchy of beings and values. I am the Lord your God, and Christ teaches: You shall love the Lord your God. This is the greatest and the first command-ment . It should not be forgotten that to let sociological interest prevail over the properly theological interest can generate another dangerous difficulty, that of adopting the Church's doctrine to hu-man criteria, thus putting off the intangible criteria of revelation and the official ecclesiastical magisterium" (Address of July 10, 1968, Documentary News Service, Oct. 28, 1968). this article I would like to consider some oI the following areas: the nature of community life in religion, its pur-poses, and its ability to be expressed in different ways. The Nature of Community Life in Religion The early Church looked upon its community life as the expression or actualization of the commandment of Jesus--"That they may be one as you Father in me and I in you, that they may be (one) in us." s The very nature of community life in religion demands not just a juxta-position or lining up of persons; nor does it refer merely to a group that has come together for professional serv-ices of teaching or health care or social work of one kind or another. Nor does it refer to a group of merely naturally compatible personalities, or to persons who are forced to live together by reason of some kind of juridical or legal system of incorporation. It implies, rather, a community that has for its model and image the mystery of the Most Blessed Trinity. There we find per-fect oneness and perfect relationship, and yet also, perfect distinction--all of which are essential to constitute their mystery and meaning. The theological notion of community life is aimed at far more than the establishment of a herd mentality, or a common status in reference to material goods, "or to a rule or to certain visible interpersonal relationships estab-lished on certain natural grounds, even though these are in no wise to be excluded. It implies far more than mere interest groups living together, such as teachers or nurses or social workers, even though any one or several of these aspects might be found in community living, at least to some extent. Community life in religion demands that the members of the community live with each other in religion as the Father lives in community of life with His Son and with the Holy Spirit. It asks that the mem-bets of the group show clearly that the charactoe or~sucally Christian commandment of fraternal ~hariotry agape which is the end of the New Law reflects" or corresponds with the characteristic dogma of our Cl~ristian faith, the mystery of the Most Blessed Trinity. For a religious com-munity is one that is constituted or created by agape, in agape, and for agape. And agape is God's love shared in or participated in by men, and becoming operative in reference to other men. Agape is intimacy with God and with other men as God would love them Himself. It sur-passes purely natural sympathies, and dominating or in-stinctive antipathies, making us see other men as sons of God, sharing the divine good with ns and called to share in the society of the elect with ourselves. Agape makes us "Jn 17:20-1. ÷ ÷ ÷ Community Lile VOLUME 2% 54~ ÷ + + C. A. $chleck REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS regard the next person not as a stranger but as our brother, as part of ourselves, as one who is united to us by divine life and whose good we desire as we do our own, good. The Purposes o[ Community Life in Religion Coming to the purposes of community life in religion and viewing them within the framework of revelation, we find that there are a number of objectives which it tries to realize. Not all of these are equal, nor are they all found in exactly the same way .in different religious institutes. Briefly they would seem to be reducible to the. following: liberating or ascetical, charismatic, and apos-tolic. The Liberating or Ascetical Dimension The liberating dimension of community life in religion is quite evident even after only a short experience of living with others. We are quite aware that even in spite of ourselves, it does strip us of much disordered self-love which is at the root of all sin. It provides us and almost forces us to practice the various expressions of real agape, real faith, and real hope in its daily human expressions: Love is patient, love is kind, love is eager but never boast-ful or conceited; love takes no pleasure in other people's sins, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to ex-cuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.9 The common life, in all its demands, acts as a marvelous means for self-giving and opening oneself more and more to and onto others. For most religious it is in practice the most constant occasion they have for personality build-ing, for self-denial, and self- and social-integration that lies at their disposal within the religious life. And this is true not merely in its domestic aspects, that is, in sharing work in the house, or recreation, of life within the frame-work of the religious residence, and common prayer in its various forms, but also in its service aspect, that is, in the common enterprise of the group.10 Community life in religion asks for collaboration with others in an operational community, such as a school or hospital or possibly a more loosely structured apostolate, such as social work. It usually involves a community in which the members have to fit together for a common work. This often means doing some things that one does not always like doing. It also involves that one be pre-pared to face the likelihood that often there may not be the exact kinds of diversions, distractions, ~'elaxations, and so forth that one would especially like. There are ~ I Cor 14:4ff. 1°See J. Coventry, S.J., in Religious Formation, Blackfriars, 1963, "Modern Individualism and Comxnunity Life," p. 37. reasons for this, other values which the community is at-tempting to give witness to: for example, eschatological values, Christological values, ascetical values, ecclesial values, those which are in keeping with the community's total mission within the Church. This ascetical or liberating aspect of community life forms part of the community's witness to the death-resur-rection mystery of the Lord. It witnesses to the fact that persons of different backgrounds, training, intellectual and social capabilities, can still live in Unity and commu-nion, in fact are called to li#e in unity and communion, and this in Christ and through Him, not primarily be-cause of mutual compatibility, but because they are called by the same agape and molded by the same agape. Con-sequently, religious are not entirely free---eVen though they freely accept this limitation of their freedom with the frustrations that this is inevitably going to mean--to reshape or arbitrarily modify their situations, seeking out the most congenial possible local community or select circle of collaborators. Such an approach to community life in religion is like matching blood types and would be just about as evangelical and gospel-motivated. Now in saying this I do not wish to give the impression that some of the attempts being made to establish smaller living groups is opposed to the gospel. It can be a good thing, especially when the motives are very much in keep-ing with the gospel values, a better image of poverty, a better spirit of personal and communal prayer, in short, if the motives are primarily for the establishment of a better religious atmosphere, and this not merely as a kind of an unfounded dream, but as a realistic probabil-ity. Moreover, such a group could provide for a better. sense of belonging. But here we must question the forma-tion of small fraternities among religious which are based primarily and almost exclusively on other values, socio-logical and psychological. The writer would still wager an educated guess that ev

Issue 29.6 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to Rxvmw Fog R~LmtOUS; 6x2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63xo3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. .Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1970 by REVIEW SOR REI, mtOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years; other countries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REvmw sort RELmmUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REvmw sog RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW sort RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box l 110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW sog 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 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 6 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN, s.J. Spiritual Counseling and Pra er. Fostering an ever deepening relationship with God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit constitutes a major objective of the religious life. Traditionally the road to such a relationship has been a formal schedule of prayer. The daily horarium of spiritual exercises has been an essential part of almost every congregation's rule or con-stitutions. During the past decade styles of religious life and prayer have undergone change, especially among younger religious. Emphasis on the relationship with God remains, but the way of achieving this relationship and what it means differ. The new religious is more aware of what he is before God and before others. He is more aware of the Spirit working in the secular world; he recognizes God in himself, in the persons and events of his daily life. He encounters Christ in his contacts with others. Formal prayer, such as meditation, recitation of the Office and rosary, seem less impor.tant to him. In some instances, they have been abandoned in favor of a fre-quently renewed commitment. Flexibility. in Prayer In response to changing attitudes, many congregations have started to experiment with more flexible approaches to prayer. Freedom, previously unheard of, has been ÷ granted. Set periods of obligatory prayer have given way ÷ to approaches geared to unique personalities and temper- ÷ aments and to the dem~inds of a particular apostolate. This change has let a breath of fresh air into many communities, but at the same time it has created a vac-uum. Formal scheduled prayer, while it can and has helped individuals to grow in the likeness of Christ, is subject to the danger of routinism. It is relatively easy for a religious to deceive himself into believing that he is growing in the spiritual life because he spends the time at prayer required by rule, whereas little true prayer is ac- 803 Richard Vaughan, S.J.; P.O. BOX 519; Los Gatos, California 95030; is Provincial for Edu-cation of the Cali-fornia Jesuits . VOLUME 29, 1970 .÷ R. P. Va~ghan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 804 tually taking place. Some religious have been content to spend the assigned time at daily meditation, Office, or rosary, even though little recognizable benefit resulted, simply because the rule prescribed it. Young religious have come to question such a view. The focus of their religious life is more on the frequently renewed dedica-tion. However, just as the traditional emphasis has its limitations, so too does the recent approach. A spiritual life placing heavy emphasis on seeing God in the world of people and events can gradually give way to a human-ism in which one is no longer actively aware of God and centers rather on the purely human with a subsequent loss of the original commitment. Value of Spiritual Counseling Regular spiritual counseling can counteract this dan-ger, inasmuch as it requires the counselee to face honestly and openly his continuing commitment to the service of God and neighbor and, it might be added, to see the need for some form of regular prayer if an active awareness of God's presence is to continue. The process of spiritual counseling differs radically from psychological counseling and psychotherapy. The latter two are concerned with changes in personality and the reversal of symptoms resulting from the application of psychological techniques, whereas spiritual counseling focuses on the person's life with God. The spiritual coun-selor attempts to help the individual become more aware of his religious experiences. Basically he is trying to assist the counselee in discerning the workings of the spirit, so that he can determine what is the will of God for him in concrete situations. It is true that emotional disorders and faulty attitudes injure this discernment, but chang-ing these personality characteristics is not the spiritual counselor's proper function. Recognizing them, however, and the part they play in blocking discernment is. When personality characteristics are such as to handicap seri-ously any true discernment, then it is the responsibility of the spiritual counselor to direct the religious to a compe-tent professional so that these limitations can be reme-died. Spii'itual counseling serves a number of important functions. First of all, it allows us to have a better under-standing of the nature and quality of our relationship ,with God. It makes us actively aware of our daily reli-gious experiences. In our routine-ridden world, it is very easy to put aside a certain amount of time for prayer but seldom reflect on the efficacy and effectiveness of this prayer. We are apt to gloss over the question: Is my prayer truly prayer? Moreover, spiritual counseling makes us clarify and sharpen our thoughts and feelings about religious experiences in a way we would never do if we settled for a few minutes of self-reflection. When I must explain these experiences to another, I am forced to scrutinize them and then describe them in clear, accurate terms intelligible to my listener, As I talk about such things as the place of Christ in my life, God as a loving Father, prayer, the manifestation of grace, the working of the Holy Spirit, or God's will, I gradually sort out the genuine from the false, and the important from the un-important. I become aware of my openness or.my lack of openness to God. I become aware of the many ways that God is operating in my life--either directly or indirectly. I experience a deeper appreciation for God-'s manifesta- .tions. On the other hand I may well see that a wall seems to exist between God and myself. I may come to the conclusion that I have closed myself off from or denied many of God's manifestations. I may see that I have rejected important graces and c6ncerned myself exces-sively with my own world. If left to myself, it is less likely that I would come to realize my own selfishness and. lack of concern for God and neighbor. Listening Spiritual counseling involves three phases: listening, dialogue, and decision. Listening is an activity .of both the counselee and the .counselor. Even though the coun-selee may never reflect upon the fact, he listens to himself and to the promptings of divine grace within himself. As he talks he becomes aware of God working in and through him. Moreover, it is assumed that previous to the coun-seling session he has listened to God speaking, especially at times of.prayer. These promptings of grace become the subject of discussion. It should be noted that God speaks in many ways: directly through His Spirit, through reve-lation, through others, and through the events 6f everyday life. One 6f the goals of counseling is to determine when God speaks as opposed to the promptings of our sinful nature. Listening is also the work of an effective counselor. It is sometimes falsely considered "lending an ear." If one is present and aware of what is being said, he is thought to be listening. The truth of the matter is that listening is a very active process requiring much concentration and ex-penditure of energy. It demands that the counselor try to be aware of what is taking place within the counselee at each moment he is with him. It also demands that the counselor recognize the various levels of functioning, such as the spiritual, the cognitive, the conative, and the affective, as well as the relationship and integration, or lack of integration, of all of these functions. For instance, the good listener is one who is perceptive enough to see ÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling and Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 805 ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW "FOR RELIGIOUS 806 when emotions have taken over to the detriment of the Spirit or when habitual attitudes block thoughtful reflec-tion. The good listener hears not only the words but the way the words are expressed. He notes the tone of voice as well as the mode of expression; from these he is able to estimate the emotional involvement. The spiritual coun-selor as listener concentrates on any indication of the Spirit working within the counselee. He notes blocks or hindrances to the promptings of grace. At times, he sees that the counselee has a need to unlSurden himself before he can become aware of God's presence in his life. The counselor listens with empathetic concern. He attempts to discover what God means to the connselee, his reli-gious experiences, the depths of his faith, and his atti-tudes. Frequently all of these can be learned by active and attentive listening with little need for probing or questioning. Before the counselor enters the second phase, namely, the dialogue, he makes sure that he has at least an adequate estimate of the counselee's spiritual state. Dialogue The second phase, the dialogue, presupposes a rapport which allows the counselee to talk freely about his reli-gious experiences. Concerned listening often brings this about, inasmuch as it produces a feeling of acceptance, which permits the counselee to express freely his views without [ear of rejection. A dialogue is a conversation in which two persons reason on a topic, exchanging ideas and opinions. They examine the evidence for and against an action or a position. The initial stance is one of open-ness to all possibilities. When the term is used in relation to spiritual counseling, it implies that the counselor and the counselee examine the latter's spiritual condition, re-flecting upon its state. I[ all is well, they evaluate the signs indicating that the individual is following God's will. If there is a problem, they weigh together possible solutions, considering arguments for and against each. During the first phase the counselee describes his spirit-ual condition, which then becomes the topic of discussion during the second phase. The counselor helps the counse-lee enumerate arguments favorable to and opposed to a particular stance; he helps him evaluate the relative mer-its of each. He assists him to see when and how the Spirit is working in concrete situations. He also helps him to-ward a greater awareness of God's presence. Counseling is a learning situation. It is a time when an individual learns more about himself. Often this is accomplished without giving advice or direction. As the counselee talks about his relationship with God and neighbor, he be-comes more aware of divine intervention in the world of grace. He begins to see on his own what changes should be made and what he should do to bring about improve-ment. However, there is still a place for direction and guidance, especially in counseling younger members of a community. For instance, if a religious has never learned to pray properly, the counseling session c,'in afford an opportunity to teach the fundamentals, followed b3) a period of testing and reassessment. It can also be the occasion for presenting the traditions of a community, a time when the religious can consider whether he is fol-lowing these traditions or whether he really wishes to do so. Whether one makes use of advice and. guidance de-pends upon the needs of the individual counselee. It is the task of the counselor to determine these needs and then proceed accordingly. Decision-making At times, decision-making is part of the counseling process. Frequently, however, the purpose of counseling is simply to help an individual come to a greater aware-ness of God's manifestations and to a better understand-ing how he is or is not following God's will. When there is a need to make a decision, it is hoped that the counsel-ing will result in the counselee arriving at a decision on his own. The function of the counselor is to see that the counselee confronts all the options and weighs their rela-tive merits. Rarely should the counselor force a final deci-sion based on his own evaluation of the situation. If the counseling is truly counseling, most counselees can arrive at a decision without undue influence on the part of the counselor. An inability to do so may signify some kind of a psychological problem. dttributes of the Counselor Who can counsel? What should be the characteristics and abilities of the spiritual counselor? First and fore-most, he or she should be a person of faith, aware of the world of grace and the divine manifestations; one who has personally experienced the presence of God in his own life. He should be a person who can and does love both himself and others. He should be perceptive, with the ability to see below the surface and recognize the depths of personality and spiritual growth. He should also be able to communicate well his thoughts and im-pressions. To be effective, he or she will need adequate training in the theology of the spiritual life and, hope-fully, will have previously sought out a spiritual counse-lor for himself or herself. Psychological training can be helpful inasmuch as it offers some procedures directly or indirectly applicable to spiritual counseling. It should be noted, however, that it Counseling and Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 807 can also be a handicap if the counselor, as a result of his training, centers most of his attention on personal prob-lems to the neglect of the spiritual. If young religious are to develop a full spiritual li~e, and if older members are to realize the renewal urged by Vatican II, there is a need for an abundance of spiritual counselors--at least one or two for every large commun-ity, It is quite evident there are too few priests with available time. The most logical solution is for congrega-tions to train the members of their own communities as spiritual counselors. They could select those best suited by previous training, experience, and personality, and assign them to this important task. Many orders or con-gregations of men have already inaugurated such a pol-icy, but they find it impossible to supply priests who can devote themselves fully to the counseling of religious women. Conclusion A perusal of the early history of the religious life re-veals a minimum of structure with a great emphasis on regular spiritual direction. Due to the constant effort of a spiritual counselor each monk grew at his own rate in the likeness of Christ. As members increased individual coun-seling became more difficult and was gradually replaced by the ordered daily horarium of spiritual exercises, the goal of both being the deepening of the monk's relation-ship with God. If contemporary religious congregations are to realize the inner renewal sought by Vatican II, they would do well to consider a return to a style of religious life grounded in regularspiritual counseling. ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, REVIEW FOR R~LIGIOU$ SISTER KRISTIN SHRADER, R.S.M. Prayer Is Listening Several years, ago, Karl Rahner began speaking of the "Church of the Diaspora," the Church which had come of age, which had forsaken the trappings of bourgeois collectivism, which had become the standard, of a commit-ted few. If the diaspora has characterized Chrigtianity, it seems even more so to be characterizing contempoi:ary religious" life. The wane of numerical strength has made it clear that convents and seminaries are in the throes of a crisis of vocation and a crisis of belie[. It is within the context of religiotis life in the Church of the diaspora that I would like to discuss the question of contemplative prayer. Our age, engulfed in a deluge of media and messages, has been characterized as one which "has lost the apti-tude for prayer.'.' 1 If prayer is listening not only to the Spirit as He works in our hearts but as He works in the world around us, then perhaps our age has also lost the aptitude' for listening. Perhaps we are deaf to'entire re-gions of ourselves and our world. I shall try to describe these hidden domains, and, in the process, try to l~rovoke us to hear what we have not heard before. Perhaps we are deaf to that part of ourselves and our world which is beyond that which merely performs "actions. This is the self and the world which do not act, but which are the mirrors in which God acts so as to let Himself be known. This is not the self-made self and not the man-made world, but is that which is passive, which is fashioned and illuminated by God. How are we in the last third of the twentieth century to find a new way to pray, a new way to listen? I suggest that we look at our unhearing selves in terms of two new images: that of pilgrim and that of prophet, instead of in terms of the image of professional or of achiever. This means that to listen, to pray, we must not do, achieve, or accomplish anything as the world accomplishes things, but rather that we must learn to listen by holding our- I Wino~ de Broucher, S.J., "Mortification in Prayer," Cross and Crown, March 1963, p. 13. 4- Sister Kristin writes from Lewis Hall (Box 219); University o[ Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. VOLUME 29, 1970 809 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Kristir~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 810 selves in readiness for something, or rather for someone. This patient readiness is what I think Karl Rahner was describing when he spoke of prayer as "this awful waiting." 2 It is what Augustine meant when he said that the continual desire for God is prayer. I can neither explain nor understand prayer. Perhaps no one can: "There are thresholds which thought alone, left to itself, can never permit us to cross. An experience is required--an experience of poverty and sickness" 3 or, perhaps, of love or of sacrifice. By attempting to describe something, prayer, which I cannot explain, perhaps I can, though, suggest how we "listen." Merton suggests the form that such a preparation for prayer might take: (1) detachment and (2) finding ideas about God in all we do.4 His second suggestion corresponds to what I will describe as living as a prophet, as one who sees the signs of God in all things. His first suggestion, detachment, corresponds to what I have called living as pilgrim, as one who can look inside himself to see that he desires God and God alone, and that this world is b/at one stage of his Godward development. Amid the dissonance of the desires of this world, the pilgrim alone truly knows how to listen. He knows that this world is not his home, that he is journeying to God, and that this very journey is what we call prayer. As Merton says: "The secret of prayer is a hunger for God and for the vision of God, a hunger that lies far deeper than the level of language or affection." ~ Much this same point, that prayer is a desire for God, a consciousness of our being pilgrims, of our listening to what is in, but not of, the world, is made not only by Merton, but also by Teresa of Avila, by Aquinas, by Paul, by Guardini, by John of the Cross, and by Karl Rahner. When John of the Cross wrote that the man of prayer "will desire with all desire to come to that which in this life cannot be known," 6 he was making much the same point as Paul whose prayer was his desire for God: I think that what we suffer in this life can never be compared to the glory, as yet unrevealed, which is waiting for us. The whole creation is eagerly awaiting for God to reveal his sons . Creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning until now the entire 2 Encounters With S!lence (Westminster: Newman, 1965), p. 25. a Quoted by Thomas Merton, Zen and the Birds o] Appetite (New York: New Directions, 1968), p. 56. ~Seeds o[ Contemplation (Norfolk, Connecticut: New Directions, 1968), p. 133. ~ Ibid., p. 140. ~ The Complete Works of John of the Cross (Westminster: New-man, 1949), v. 1, p. 76. creation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giving birth; and not only creation, but all of us who possess the first fruits of the Spirit, we too groan inwardly as we wait for our bodies to be set free. For we must be content to hope that we shall be saved--our salvation is not in sight., it is something we must wait for with patience. The Spirit too comes to help us in our weakness. For when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words, and God who knows everything in our hearts knows perfectly well what he means.' These are the words of Paul who longed ~o be deliv-ered from this body of death and to be with God, Paul who wrote to his Philippians: "I want to be gone and be with Christ." s Thus, for a man who really desires God, prayer is no longer problematic, because we pray as we live. As Merton puts it: "As a man is, so he prays." 9 Thus the man who listens is he who is able to hear his own deep desire for God. He, the pilgrim, is able to say: "I want God and I want him more than anything else, and I will wait for him." This is what Teresa of Avila meant when she uttered her Deus solus sul~cit. It is this realization which is the substance of prayer. Following along these same lines, Karl Rahner says that the ulti-mate meaning of daily prayer is the awful waiting for the God we desire: "The prayer that You require of me," writes Rahner to God, "must be, ultimately, just a pa-tient waiting for You, a silent standing by until You, who are ever present in the inmost center of my being, open the gate to me from within." 10 For Rahner, being a listener, a pilgrim, was based on the realization that nothing on earth is worth abandon-ing oneself to it. Thus all life is one prayer, one long aspiring for God, like the lives of the wise virgins of the Gospel, si~ch that our eternal possession by God is the answer to our lifelong prayer, a prayer which basically is like that of John of the Cross: I live, yet no true life I know, And living thus expectantly, I die because I do not die Within myself no life I know And without God, I cannot live.n Out of our Augustinian restlessness-~our restless until they rest in thee--and out of our wholeness and for finality is born contemplati Thi~_ pr_~esupposes, of course, that we can hear~ ' Rorn 8:18-27. s Phil 1:23. ~No Man Is an Island (New York: Harcourt, Brace 1955), p. 42. 10 Rahner, Encounters, p. 24. ~ Works of John oI the Cross, v. 2, p. 450. hearts are ~unger for ve prayer. he cries of and World, 4- 4- + Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 81I Sister Kristin REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 812 our hearts for wholeness. The penalty for failing to artic-ulate our inner longings for God, for failing to risk the often painful encounter with the unseen God within Us, is being doomed to live a boring, supercilious, superficial life. But none of us wants to live a superficial life, just as none of us wants to live a life devoid of prayer. The crucial question, then, is: How do we learn to listen, to live as pilgrims? How do we begin to utter the "I want God" which is the essence of contemplative prayer? Pascal says that we would not seek God unless He had ¯ already found us.12 This suggests that we cannot learn to desire God, because He must find us first. This suggests that John of the Cross was correct when he said thatthe soul that has union with God no longer has any methods of prayer, that within the limits of the supernatural there are no prescribed ways.13 Pascal's remark also suggests that we do not really learn to look for God; rather, we realize He is already within us. Seeking Him should be for us, as it wa~ for Paul, a continual realization that He has already found us, that He dwells within us. "Know you not," Paul virtually shouts out, that "you are the temples of the Spirit?" 14 Paul knew that God had found him, had loved him.15 As John said: "Christ first loved us." i~ Perhaps we do not have a tremendous desire for God because we have not been stripped of all else. That is why we cannot live as listeners, as pilgrims. 1 referred earlier to the necessity of detachment if we were to listen to the cries of our heart for God--lf we were to llve ~'s pilgrims. This emptiness means, I think, that we realize that just as love demands sacrifice, so prayer dhmands discipline, that we cannot live by our feelings and then call it fulfillment, that we cannot live by rationalizing and then call it hearing the Spirit. I think this ~mptiness means, too, that we must bear patiently even our inabil-ity to desire God. Only When we learn to suffer with our own inability to find Christ, only when we discover our own spiritual poverty and our own hunger for God, only when we learn to agonize over the whys of existence and God and self---only then will we have prepared the ground out of which the solitude of contemplation will grow, because on.ly then will we have learned to listen. It is~hard to learn to listen, hard to say "I want God" when we know that the very conditions of our finding God demand sacrifice: the sacrifice of regular, disciplined ~ Quoted by Louis Evely, That Man Is You (Westminster: New-man, 1964), p. 15. ,1, Works o] John oI the Cross, v. 2, p. 76. it Rom 8:9-11; I Cor 3:16. ~ Rom 5:8. 101 Jn 4:19. prayer, the saca-ifice of not trying to rely on an of prayer but only on faith, the sacrifice of "a ihg," as Rahner calls it,17 the sacrifice of reno that we possess, as Luke says,18 the sackifice of o dung what we used to call gain, as Paul says.19 All these forms of sacrifice are" what Cassian "purity of heart," what Christ meant when no man can serve two masters, what Merton using Zen to still the birds of appetite, wh~ Eckhart meant when he said: "To be a proper God and fit for God to act in, a man should a] from all things and actions, both inwardly wardly.20 In saying that detachment and mortification condition for the contemplative prayer ofa li: being a pilgrim, we enunciate the dictum of Jc Cross: Solitude is o;eated by an unsatisfie~ John of the Cross compares wrong desires tc which obstruct the sight of the soul,2~ and says hess that is uncreated cannot enter the soul, not first cast out that other created hunger whk to the desire of the soul; for . two contrari dwell in one person . " Yet, in spite of our knowledge that we will ne union with God in prayer without first emp hearts of other desires, this knowledge does cause us to desire God. On the contrary, it is dous grace, I think, for a person living in th~ lose interest in the things that absorb the discover in his own soul an appetite for po y methods ~vful wait-ancing all )unting as meant by said that meant by it Meister abode for so be fi:ee and out-is the pre- ;tener, for hn of the hunger. cataracts that "ful-l there be h belongs es cannot vet attain Lying our lOt alone a tremen-world to orld and 'erty and. solitude. How can we prepare ourselves to r~ zeive this gift of grace? I think we can begin, as Merton'says, by not trying to understand, explain, or produce a ~lesire for God or for contemplative prayer. Rather, we on ght to .try tq see, to listen . and this seeing and hearin experience, not rationality, out of which pray! How else can we learn to hear the pure ~ which is the threshold for prayer? Paul sugges~ learn to really listen to the Spirit when in th~ chapters of the first epistle to the Corinthians, guishes two types of wisdom. The first is a ~ words; it is rational and didlectical. The secon~ dom of the cross; it is experiential and para6 was the second sort of knowledge that Paul kne about Christ. The word of the cross is self-empt Rahner, Encounters, p. 2~. Lk 14:33. Phil 3:7-9. Quoted by Thomas Merton, Zen, p. 9. Works oI John oI the Cross, v. 1, pp. 42-3. Ibid., p. 36. is pure is born. Cperience how we first two .ae distin-isdom of is a wis- ~xical. It w told us ying, and ÷ ÷ Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 813~ 4, 4. Sister Kristin REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 814 only it enables us to know in the Biblical sense of know-ing as possessing in the act of love. Those who love have a new logic of knowledge and from this new type of wisdom comes the experience which is prayer. But prayer, listening to the reality of all that happens, is not merely being aware of our desire for God and our condition of being pilgrims. Prayer is not only to love God above all things, but it is also to see him everywhere in all things. This was what Teilhard called "purity of heart." 2a That is, prayer also is a type of listening which looks outward and sees the world as filled with signs of God. It is tlfis type of prayer whose exercise demands that we al! be prophets, revealing the hidden things of God out of tangible happenings. This type of prayer is not problematic if one's world is shot through with God. But how do we listen such that our world is seen and heard as permeated with God? One way, I think, is to build on the crucial experiences of life, since prayer operates by means of issues which are ulti-mate in our lives. That is, prayer operates according to our systems of values. Prayer, or the lack of it, affirms what is, or what is not, important to us: That is, the happenings which drive us to the ground ques-tions about human existence and which elicit our deepest self commitments are., good preparations for deep prayer. We find in the profound experiences of love and creativity an in-tensification of our spiritual self-possession, accompanied by a lucid awareness of the contingency of our world, which is already an encounter with God. From such peak experiences we can slowly learn to feel how God is always present to our human action?~ Perhaps we cannot learn to pray because we cannot really see or hear. Perhaps we are too much a part of an age which is activistic rather than prayerful, pragmatic rather than spiritual, anthropocentric rather than theocentric, compromising rather than disciplined. Thomas Merton once wrote that if we were really look-ing for God,. every moment and every event would sow seeds of contemplation in our hearts.2~ That is, if our hearts were ready, we would see that "the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls" as Simon and Garfunkel say. All life would be a sign if we knew how to listen to God. How do we become prophets, so that we can listen to the signs of God that are heard in life? Perhaps one way of listening is conscience. Perhaps another is being aware of a seeking that is unsatisfied by material things. As we =Hymn of the Universe (New York: Harper and Row, 1965), p. 124. -"~ John Carmody, S.J., "Contemporary Faith and Prayer," Sisters Today, November 1967, p. 105. "~ Merton, Seeds, p. 18. passively search, or listen, we become aware of God's work in us and in the world around us and we respond. This response, is prayer, and it was brought about, as Scriptures say, by sleeping with our hearts awake.2~ And our heart is kept awake by love and discipline, by faith- [ulness to the insights of prayer, by watchful attention. This continual search is the 'condition of continued growth, and faith is the condition of continual search.27 For us to be prayerful, then, requires that we learn to see the world as prophets, as full of signs of God, and this requires faith. But what is the object of our faith and how is it attained? Jesus told us to seek and we would find, and yet He did not tell us what we would find. In fact He said there were no close directives for discovering His kingdom. It would come unawares; it was within . His coming would be like a lJlghtning flash.-~s If this is so, then perhaps all we can do is to be like watchful virgins, ready for the hour when His light and His prayer comes. Another way of being "ready" is, I think, to eliminate the defensivensss and self-protectiveness of our words, by opening ourselves to understand, by giving up the secu-rity of set words or positions. If we know how to listen, then a person who confronts us with angxy words is really saying he is afraid to love us. A person who says God does not exist is really saying no one ever made God meaning-ful to him. Listening this way means hearing God. And after all, (lid not God know how to listen? He loved us first, as John says.29 He became a slave so that we could be saved, as Paul says, and He loved us while we were yet sinners.~0 Why is it that we cannot see signs of God, that we do not know how to listen and to pray? Perhaps it is because Christ is not real enough for us . but how is he made real? One way, I think is by the way in which He gives shape to our lives by the vocation that we, with the Spirit, choose. This is because, for the Christian, love is the only absolute, and' our vocational dhoice and our prayer are both concrete ways of expressing this love. When Jesus prayed, it was always in response to His vocation; He prayed before choosing His Apostles, and before His passion and death. To pray in this way, as Christ prayed, demands that we listen to the signs of God in our vocational call. We pray for much ~he same rea-sons that we want to be religious: we want to preach God and to praise Him and to help bring forth His kingdom. ~ Canticle of Canticles 5:2. ~ See Rosemary Haughton, On Trying to Be Human (Springfield, Illinois: Templegate, 1966), p. 42. = Lk 17:24. .o0 1 Jn 4:19. ~o Phil 2:7; Rom 5:9. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 815 Si~ter Kristin REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 816 We want to find Him. For these reasons we pray. For these reasons we are celibates living in community. Thus the surrender to God's will which characterizes listening prayer seems, identical with a resolve to go ahead vocationally with what we know we must do. And what we must do is necessitating precisely because it is a faithful expression of who we are. Prayer and vocation both say who we are; they constitute our identity, and they are both linked together. If we are faithful to who we a~e, then we listen. Then we do not have to run around trying to fill up people with. God, because we know He is already there, that we have already been redeemed. Then we are abl~ to make visible, in daily events, the fact that behind the anxious sincerity and idealism and capacity to love of most people is the face of Christ who loved us so much that He came to liye among us, that behind the dirty curtain of Viet-nam, and racial hatred, and all the ways in which we are insensitive to those with whom we live, is the face of the crucified Christ. This is the raw material of prayer, and knowing how to listen refines it into prayer. If we know how to listen, then we do not have to look at the world as if it were built in two stories: the first floor, the natural level, the second floor, the supernatural level. If we know how to listen, we do not have to try to depend upon laws or habits or practices or veils to speak, of God. Our love will do it for us. Instead, we can take the world as it is, lavished by God's love and our poor attempts to love, and see it as holy. I do not think the person of prayer, as prophet, is pietistic.or aloof or unapproachable; I think he or she is One who is able to recognize in all men the face of the Messiah, the one who, as prophet, is able to make visible what is hidden and hopeful the one who was without hope. Such a person is compassionate and merciful; he realizes that nothing human is alien, that something looks profane only because his eye is not sacred. Out of this human compassion, the heart of a true prophet is opened not only to his sisters and brothers, but to God. In listening to them, he can listen to the man of Galilee who called illiterate fishermen, who talked with learned Pharisees, who wept over Jerusalem, and who, finally,. had nowhere to lay His head. Jesu.s redeemed us, and if we listen, we know that. When we listen, we will become aware of all that is beautiful, that is one, that is in pain and anguish, of all that is holy, in the Body of Christ. With this awareness-- and we have to be aware--we go to the Father in the Spirit, and we praise Him and reverence Him and lift up to Him the suffering members of His Body. It is this awareness which is the door to deep personal prayer. In fact, contemplative prayer is a witness to a special type of awareness: that of faith. Here:, God is present to the self and the contemplative listener is called to live in a more intimate communication with that mystery. Just as de-tachment was the precondition for the prayer which was desire for God, so faith is the precondition for the prayer which sees God in all things. When we can live these two types of prayer, when we are both pilgrim and prophet, we can listen, and we hear precisely because we have stilled our own murmurings and hear Christ in others. When we are all this, we have, as John of the Cross says, both entered upon the road and left the road at the same time.al At this point we will have given God, not our feelings, not even our thoughts, but ourselves. And when we have done this, we can say with Rahner: "Your commission has become my very life. It ruthlessly claims all my energies for itself; it lives from my own life." az We can say with Paul: I am not my own any longer,as At this point, our prayer will be the utterly simple prayer of listening because we will be living and moving and having being in God. Prayer will happen because we pray as we live, and we must live as pilgrims and proph-ets. In the end, all I have said comes down to our living with the unshakable conviction, of those who wait, that now we see a dim reflection in a mirror, but that one day, one day, as Paul says?4 we will see face to face. Works ol John oI the Gross, v. 2, p. 70. Rahner, Encounters, p. 72. Philem I:10; Phil 3:12. 1 Cor 15:12. Prayer. VOLUME 29, 1970 817 JOHN O. MEANY AND SISTER MARJORIE CAREY, B.V.M. Psychology and "The Prayer of the Heart" J. O. Meany is as-sociate professor of. education and Sis-ter Marjorie teaches Russian at the Uni-versity of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 48556; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Incredible as it may seem, there is an ancient Christian tradition of prayer which seems to be almost unknown to Christians in the West. How many Western Christians, for example, have heard of "The Prayer of the Heart"? This Eastern tradition of prayer, sometimes called "Hesy-chasm," may play an increasingly important role in the personal and interior "reformation" which is, hopefully, now taking place in the Roman Catholic Church in the West. There are changes emerging in the Western ap-proaches to prayer and to spiritual formation: a return to a more interior life of prayer and a personalistic and psychologically-conscious spirituality. In order to return to what is more basic and funda-mental in the psychology of prayer, it is essential that we distinguish between those particular aspects of Western Christianity which have been determined by our own unique culture(s) and traditions and, on the other hand, those aspects of prayer and spirituality which are, in an anthropological sense, relatively "culture-free," or more universal and fundamental. It may be difficult to com-pare. our own familiar forms of prayer and spirituality with those which are relatively more independent of our own experience and traditions, but only in this way can we obtain a new view of the primary sources of the basic Christian spirit. There are, of course, as many approaches to G6d as there are (from the human point of view) facets of His Being; and there are as many paths to Him as there are individuals whom He guides along these paths. For God is not limited by our limitations. He draws each individ-ual to Him in a unique way. Yet it seems that, however unique the way, God usually draws a person to Him by using that person's cultural and socio-economic back-ground. Eastern and Western traditions and personality characteristics differ; thus the mode of prayer of an East-ern Christian may seem to be radically different in ap-pearance, if not in reality, from that of a Western Chris-tian. In recent years, however, many young Westerners have turned to the East for new approaches to spirituality; they have found in some forms of Eastern spirituality-- particularly in Zen Buddhism and Yoga--new insights into themselves. Similarly, we, too, may come to see more clearly our own sources of spirituality, through an at-tempt to understand a different Christian tradition. In-deed, one seldom understands his own country until he has left it to travel abroad. | Historically, the Prayer of the Heart d~tes back to the fourth-century desert fathers of Egypt wh~ insisted on the ideal of continual prayer. The Prayer of/he Heart, often called the Jesus Prayer today, began to e~nerge in recog-nizable form during the fifth century; and the full text of the prayer can be found in the life of tl~e sixth-century Egyptian hermit, Abba Philemon. A coln~non~ expression of the Jesus Prayer, rhythmically said froth the heart, has bee,n,: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me. This form of prayer can be descr!,b~d as: "Standing before God with the mind in the heart. | The roots of the Jesus Prayer are to belfound in Scrip-ture itself. The Jews of the Old Testarpent so revered Yahweh that His name was considered to [be an extension of His Person, a revelation of His Being.I This reverence for the name of God continues throughout the New Tes-tament: "At the na,m,,e of Jesus every kne~ should bow, in heaven and on earth (Phil 2:10). Indeed, lthe entire Jesus Prayer is existentially, as well as Biblically, oriented. Its similarity to two other Scriptural prayers is apparent: the prayer of the blind man, "Jesus, Son ~f David, have mercy on me" (Lk 18:38); and that of the [publican, "God be merciful to me a sinner" (Lk 18:13). In t!me, a body ,o,f traditio,n, al teachin~ c,a, lled "Hesy-chasm;' meaning quietness' or "reppse, grew up around the Jesus Prayer; and at least 'since the sixth century the tradition of the Jesus Prayer has influenced the spirituality of Eastern Christians. During three peri-ods of history the Jesus Prayer has been particularly in-fluential in the East: during the Golden Age of Hesy-chasm in fourteenth-century Byzantium .under the great theologian,. St. Gregory Palamas; during the Hesychast renaissance in Greece in the eighteenth century when the great anthology of Eastern spirituality, the Philokalia (love of the beautiful), was written; and during nine-teenth century Russia under Theophan the Recluse. To understand better how the Hesychast approach could contribute to the West, one might examine how it ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer o] the Heart VOLUME 29, 1970 819 4. 4. 4. I. O. Meany and St. Marjmle REVJEW FOR REL]GIO0$ 82O has already contributed to the East; for example, how it has contributed to Russian spirituality, as that spirit has grown out of the environment and "national" character of the Russian people. The Russians are predominantly a silent people; this is evident in an old Russian custom: traditionally, whenever a member of an old Orthodox Russian family leaves on a journey, the entire family gathers in silence to pray. The family remains silent for several minutes; then the father rises to bless the family and each member of the family silently traces the Sign of the Cross on his forehead while facing the. family icon. Afte~ this paternal blessing, mutual blessings are ex-changed. This love of silence may also have led many Russian Christians to a contemplative life. There is also in the soul of the Russian people a primitive, almost naive simplicity; yet in this simplicity profound depths may be fathomed. Russian spirituality has been imbued with this simplicity which is so characteristic of the spirit of the Gospel. Their prayer life, too, has always been simple, without a complicated rational (or discursive) for-mula. Still another characteristic of the Russian peasant is his love of the rhythmic beauty of life--the" rhythm found in the cycles of nature and family life. This is especially apparent in the works of Tolstoy, who so com-pellingly depicted these cycles in his great epics, War and Peace and Anna Karenina. This love of rhythm, found also in Russian music, is clearly reflected in the rhythmic breathing of the "Jesus Prayer." One of the most obvious characteristics of the Russian peasant is his yearning for open and unlimited stretches of land. The geography of the land, therefore, influences the national character ofthe people, which in turn, af-fects the forms of their spirituality. The vast open areas of Siberia, the immense forests of the country, seems to have evoked a response to the Infinite which is reflected in personal religious experience. Because of this yearning for space, the Russian peasant has also been somewhat of a pilgrim. This, of c6urse, is true of many cultures and personalities; indeed, the whole history of man can be seen as a journey. Yet as Nicolas. Berdyaev points out, this spirit of the wanderer seems particularly characteristic of the Russian people. Through the centuries Russian pil-grims have traveled from afar in search of peace and spiritual renewal, visiting the famous cathedrals of Kiev, Novgorod, and other places of pilgrimage. They have traveled especially to those places where a "staretz," a man of God, prayer, and discernment, was still to be found. Thus, the innate yearning of the Russians for vast unlimited space has made them a nomadic people. This spirit of the wanderer, in search of truth, is .underscored in The VCay of a Pilgrim, a story of a Russian pilgrim who journeys forth, continually repeating the Jesus Prayer. This unknown Russian pilgrim has made the Eastern mode of prayer more available to Westerners through his personal religious experiences which are de-scribed in The Way o[ a Pilgrim and The Pilgrim ,Con-tinues His Way. The Jesus Prayer is a prayer that comes from the heart. It differs from the current Western and, perhaps, more cognitive approach to prayer; yet as St. Teresa of Avila points out, the important thing is not to have m~ny thoughts, but to have great love. Eastern Christians seem to have preserved the idea of the whole man: body and heart as well as mind and soul. This more total approach to "spirituality" seems to be meaningful for modern Westerners, as can be seen in the new orientation of such books as Harvey Cox's The Feast o[ Fools, Dechanet's Christian Yoga, Dom Aelred Graham's Zen Catholicism and Norman Brown's Love's Body. The difference in modes of prayer, then, between the East and the West is based not only on cultural and personality characteristics, but also on the different atti-. tudes toward man which are prevalent in the East and in the West. For centuries. Europeans and Americans have tended to emphasize man's rational nature; and since the Counter-Reformation, this emphasis has found expression not only in Western scientific methodology but also in various discursive "methods" of prayer, such as the Igna-tian, Sulpician, Salesian, and Ligourian. Descartes' dualism, or Western rationalism, has failed, however, to create in the (non-Westernized) East the head/heart dichotomy that it has fostered in the West. The traditional Russian peasant seems never to have lost his sense of wholeness. Eastern Christians seem to have preserved that broad perspective of "the whole man," an integrated body-heart-mind-soul. Perhaps the Zen scholar Daisetz T. Suzuki was right in contending that Western thought has erected barriers be-tween man and reality; barriers of concepts, imagery, cas-uistry, and reasoning. Consequently, instead of bringing us closer to reality, language has frequently separated us from it. For example, if a person rigidly decides not'to think about sex, he often finds himself unconscio~usly in-volved in it. There is a story of a Western theologian who decided to marry just after writing an elaborate treatise on celibacy; the theologian admitted that all his former theories had been "mental constructs." In terms of depth psychology, this type of theological "construct" might be seen as an intellectual defense, a defense which .broke down under the pressure of previously-denied (emotional and sense) experience. Repression fosters "acting out.:' Similarly, current Western existential "philosophy" can the Heart ,. VOLUME' 29,. 1970 :~" 82L ~. O. Meany and Sr. Mar]orie REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS 822 be seen as an attempt to break through (defensive) logical constructs in order to come closer to the "living reality." The East, however, is in a sense, already "existential" and has been throughout its long history. Though recent Western theology has tended to be Cartesian or dualistic, the Russian has always been more at home with an existential or phenomenological ap-proach to God and prayer. The writings of Dostoevsky were influenced by Orthodox spirituality; this approach is often viewed as both intriguing and somewhat threat-ening to a Westerner, whose spiritual formation has o.ften been unconsciously conditioned by abstract ideals and logical categories. However, existeritialism and phenom-enology are beginning to have an impact in the West, through such Christian authors as Dietrich von Hilder-brand, Hubert Dom, Adrian Van Kaam, Gabriel Marcel, and Simone Weil. The existential and direct approach to God, although it is found in the prayers of the liturgies of the West, has always been a more living part of the consciousness of the Russian. The best aspects of tradi-tional Russian spirituality would not be interested in a rationalism or nominalism which would tend to separate love from human physical experience. But the worst in Russian Marxism might attempt to separate love from the physical world. Even as the human body can be seen as the outward expression of the inner soul, so also can icons, images, and incense be seen as an expression of the Church's inner spirituality. Thus the Russian prays with a pro-found sense of reverence; he seems to have a deep sense of ritual. In the Orthodox religion there is no Western-like sepa-ration between the liturgy and private prayer; no such Cartesian-like distinctions are made. This ancient Eastern tradition is similar to a relatively new trend in the West-ern liturgical movement which stresses the use of public liturgical prayers for private prayer. The scholarly jour-nal, Worship, has long stressed the value of liturgical meditations. We are not always conscious of the fact that much of our Western liturgy is an existential prayer, existential because it addresses God in the "here-and-now." For. Orthodox Christians there are no logical dis-tinctions between private and public prayer, just as for them there are no class or caste distinctions between monks and laymen. Husbands and wives, monks and nuns, all follow the same traditional and existential way of prayer. Love, not rules, is the focal point. Orthodox Christians do not feel that reading the Bible reflectively is a prayer, though they do not deny its value. Reflective reading often is predominantly a cognitive process unless the words are related to the feelings, fanta-sies, and senses of the "heart." Orthodox Christians re-gard their prayer as more of a total personal relationship to God, by praying "with the mind in the heart." At the risk of imposing Western categories on Ortho-dox spirituality, one might distinguish three forms of Orthodox prayer. First, bodily prayer which uses the pos-ture and the senses of the body. For example, one might bend his head so that his eyes can look at the place of the heart; he may try to become aware of his breathing in order to use its natural rhythm as an aid to concentration as he prays to God. Secondly, mental prayer in which the mind holds the "Word" in inward prayer, so that con-sciousness is expanded; thus one tries to center one's whole being on the "Word of God." And thirdly, there is the Prayer of the Heart. This last form of prayer is for Eastern Christians the highest form of prayer because in this way of praying the mind descends to the heart as it stands before God. The Orthodox feel that it is essential that the mind descend into the feelings and images of the heart during prayer although they realize that the heart, without the attention of the intellect, is blind. As St. Makarios of Egypt (4th century) said: "Descend into thy heart and there do battle with Satan." Thus the mind of the person descends into his heart to view his feelings, fantasies, and sensual experiences in order to choose those which are truly good and oppose those which are not. This process is different from that advocated by some western writers like Tanquerey. This process also pre-supposes a deep psychological openness to oneself, a non-defensive consciousness. Unlike many Westerners, the Eastern Christian does not try to use his intellectual constructs to keep the mind from the heart. Rather, he worships God with his heart and feelings which are, hope-fully, known by his mind. Thus the body and the inter-nal senses play a positive role in prayer, as it can in higher forms of Yoga. The conscious use of the body, as in dancing, could play a more important role in prayer and in the liturgy of the West. The purpose of the Jesus Prayer is to fill one's whole consciousness with the name of Jesus, just as St. Francis of Assisi spent a whole night in prayer rqpeating ever more deeply the Lord's name. Ideally, the head and the heart are thus united; conscious unity in the person is the goal of some modern psychologists and theologians. For example, the psychologist Carl Rogers describes the ide-ally "fully functioning person" as one who knows, exis-tentially, what his "heart" (or organism) is saying, and he can talk about his inner experience if he chooses to do so. The theologian, John S. Dunne, in his A Search [or God Prayer of the Heart VOLUME 29, 1970 823 ~. O. Mean~ and St. Mar]orie~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in Tim.~ and Memory also stresses the value of a unity of thought, feeling a.nd action in the person, " ' .~ Through the centuries physical~ "exercise~ ~ind disci-plines such as fasting have been used to affect one's sciousness. In prayer, exercises and inner discipli.nes can" be used. to concentrate, one's being on the n.ame of. Jesus. But. one great danger in "prayer" is that words, or thoughts can be compulsively repeated, being motivated by unconscibus inner conflicts;, thus "prayer" could, be used defensively to avoid an inner growth of. conscious-ness and love. As in some forms of Yoga, the Jesus Prayer can be associated with the natural rhythm of breathing. Thus, this Hesychast"method of prayer uses the natural, not [orced rhythm of breathing or the .heartbeat to aid total intellectual and emotional conceritration on the name of Jesus; just.as a Westerner might use the beads of'a rosary ti~ c0ncefitrate on a mystery. By using his breathing to concentrate on the name of Jesus, the person may thus bring prayer more deeply into his ~hole being. Sponta-neous and relaxed breathing is used to bring one's atten-tion repeatedly back to the name of Jesus, which is then psychologically associated with the breath (and life) of the person. It is important to realize that these physical exercises are regarded as an aid to, not~ an obligation of, prhy'er. The Orthodox know well that there can be no physical or mechanical means of acquiring grace. No bod' ily nor physical techniques can be an automatic method of obtaining grace. Furthermore, they do not recommend the use of this form of prayer without proper guidance, or Spiritual direction, because it can cause sexual arousal, or it could possibly damage the lungs or body, if forced o~ used incorrectly. Associating one's prayers with the natural easy flow of one's breathing, however, is'a way of aiding the mind to descend into the body and the heart,' in an attempt to offer lovingly to God one's whole being (emotions, will, and attention) in the name of Jesus. Some practical applications of processes similar to this way of prayer are described in J. M. Dechanet's Christian Yoga. This book is one example of a modern application of "ancient wisdom to prayer. He includes a discussion of practical techniques for the "Prayer of the Heart." "On the Three Methods of Attention and Prayer"'is a treatise often attributed to St. Simon the New Theolo-gian. It makes clear that .there are three ways of prayer. The first way of prayer, used by an emotional person, would stress primarily the feeling approach to God with-out much stress on reason. A second ,,~ay of,prayer would stress the intellectual approach with thoughts-fighting-. thoughts because that person is relatively unaware of his emotions. The third and preferable way is an integration which would have the mind consciously descend into the heart so that the person takes a conscious position toward his own internal emotions and fantasies in order to love God with his whole mind, his whole heart, and his whole soul In recent years many young Americans--like Franny in Salinger's Franny and Zooey---have come to know some-thing of the Jesus Prayer, although it may easily be mis-interpreted as a mechanical spirituality. Its appeal for modern people may be due to several factors: its Christo-centric theme, its Scriptural base, its simplicity. Many may find in this way of prayer a human expression of their adoration and love of God. Others may find in its rhythmic breathing a meaningful way of "physically ex-pressing" their spirit. So, like Yoga, Zen, and other modes of Eastern spirituality, Orthodoxy may offer to the West another approach to prayer, perhaps another way of help-ing us to find our way back to the Christian Spirit. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY AND SOURCES Arseniev, Nicolas. Russian Piety. London: Faith Press, 1964. Balthasar, Hans Urs von. Prayer. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1961. Berdiaev, Nicolas. The Russian Idea. New York: Macmillan, 1948. Chariton of Valamo, Igumen. The Art of Prayer. London: Faber and Faber, 1966. Dechanet, Jean Marie. Christian Yoga. New York: Harper and Row, 1960. Delmage, L. Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius. New York: Wagner, 1968. Diahonia, a journal edited by George Maloney, S.J. New York: Fordham University. Dunne, John S. A Search for God in Time and Memory. Toronto: Macmillan, 1969. Fedotov, George P. A Treasury of Russian Spirituality. London: Sheed and Ward, 1952. Hausherr, Iren~e. "La m~thode d'oraison h~sychaste," Orien-talia christiana, 1927. Loyola, Ignatius de. The Autobiography of St. Ignatius. New York: Benziger, 1900. Johnston, S.J., William. "Dialogue with Zen," Concilium, November 1969. Jung, Carl G. The Collected Worhs of Carl Jung, volumes 5 and 9. Princeton: Princeton University, 1968. Kadloubovsky, E. and Palmer, G. E. H. Early Fathers from the Philokalia. London: Faber and Faber, 1952. Kadloubovsky, E. and Palmer, G. E. H. Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart. London: Faber and Faber, 1951. Mason, R.ussell E. Internal Perceptions and Bodily Function-ing. New York: International Universities Press, 1961. Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain. Unseen Warfare. London: Faber and Faber, 1952. Philips, Dewi Z. The Concept of Prayer. New York: Schocken, 1966. Prayer " o] the Heart VOLUME 2% 1970 825 Richardson, A. Mental Imagery. New York: Springer, 1969. Sofrony, Archimandrite. The Undistorted Image. London: Faith Press, 1958. Stolz, Karl R. The Psychology of Prayer. New York: Abingdon, 1923. Ware, Timothy. The Orthodox Church. Baltimore: Pelican, 1964. .~. O. Meany and St. Mar]orle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JONATHAN FOSTER, O.F.M. Some Notes on Hostility and Fidelity: The Religious Presence One of the most masterful and insightful commentaries on human aggression dates from the years immediately following World War I--Edna St. Vincent Millay's poign-ant little play, Aria da Capo. In the work's "play within a play," two friendly and unsophisticated shepherds under the direction of a stern stage manager set out to play a game in which they innocently build a wall between them and say "that over there belongs to me and over here to you." The game soon becomes deadly serious, however, and their friendship quickly deteriorates into suspicion and mistrust. At one point in the game, Thyrsis has a moment of sanity and beseeches Corydon.: "It is an ugly game. I hated it from the first. How did it start?" To which Corydon replies: "I do not know . I do not know. I think I am afraid of you! You are a strangerl I never set eyes on you before." Their fearful insight into the tragedy of their situation does not hinder them, how-ever, from plunging head-long into the "game" which ends in their mutual killing of each other for what the other has. The essence of the tragedy of human existence there-fore, as seen by Miss Millay, is the deterioration of trust. When man do not deliberately break trust with each other, society can be sweet and peaceful, as the shepherds in the play experienced it. For in the beginning, before the "game," they agreed in simple joy to "make a song about a lamb that thought himself a shepherd." But when .the wall goes up--and in the play it is only a streamer of tissue paper that Corydon cannot even find when he staggers toward his dead friend in his death agony--ignorance and misunderstanding build large, + + 4. Jonathan Foster is a member of St. Joseph's Franciscan Seminary; P.O. Box 449; Oak Brook; Il-linois 60521. VOLUME 29, 1970 827. ]. Foster,~ O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 828 tricksome images that cast dark and suspicious shadows over the land. And it is when we encounter these suspi-cious shadows that:we begin to experience hostility, and too frequeritly this hostility bristles into violence. I would like to suggest here that the situation dramati-cally Conceived in Aria da Capo is .r~pidly coming to characterize the whole of American society and that the current easy attitude toward vows in religious life is con-tributing to this situation. ¯ There is an unease in the land, an .unease that increas-ingly expresses itself in polarized movements, bristles with hostility for its counterparts, and, with a regularity t.ha.t is ~c~asing to. ast.onish; b.reaks out into violence. The reason for this is hardly a simple onE;°but one of the most important factors, I believe, is the demise of trust under-lined by Miss Millay. It has long been known that violence, especially as carried out by children, is the mindless response to a betrayal of trust by those who should above all have been trustworthy--parents, brothers, sisters, friends. Most psy-chotic violence among grown-ups too is explainable in terms of betrayal and subsequent alienation. It is.not too much to suggest that the unease drifting through our country, the. increasing prickle of hostility, the growing threat of mass violence is largely a projection on a na-tional scale of this same betrayal o~ trust. There certainly has been such a betrayal in our public institutions. Our government and political leaders have been. found to be insincere so often and so damagingly that they, have generated powerful counter-political movements based on an-idealism that seeks to actually do that which government and presen( politics only profess tostand for. Business and labor time and.time again have been found out to be playing dirty games behind the bright chintz of public relations, advertising; and noble sentiments. The curtains have been jerked back a few times too often on all levels of education, to reveal admin-istrators and teachers .with their thumbs stuck in a few unsuspected pies. Even the hallowed judicial system has been seen to be as petty and partial as ward-heeling poli-ticians. Bishops and religious leaders with almost monot-onous regularity put on masks in the same dressing rooms with government,, and more and more of their subjects are sbe, ing under the make-up. ¯ Perhaps all this insincerity is not as new as it seems. But what is certainly new is the great number of people who know: about it. Mass journalism and historical schol-arship have had much to do with this public breast-bar-ing, "telling, it like it is," debunking and stripping down even ou~ heroes. And so, I suggest, the great question that expresses the malaise of. our society is: "Who ;can you trhst?" Th~ cynical crack is mor~ and more the language of the land. More and more like-minded'groups, search-ing for trust, turn within and band together. The result is fraCtionalization, polarization, hostility, violence. "I do not know you" becomes "I do not trust you." But this is hardly the whole story. As if it were not engugh that the public institutions of our, society are found not to wash under their public robes, we are facing now the deterioration of trust in the private institutions of our society. Personal rel~itionships 'of all kinds ,have B~en affected by the erosion of trust. The vows of mar-riage, "till death do us part,"'ard taken with increasingly l~gs seriousness. In the steady-dating relationship, too, boys and girls enter into quasi-matrimonial and even Sex-ual relationships, the basis of which is not ~rust, but usefulness ~ind convenience. But where this relationship is easi!y deceived into thinking itself meaningful, the no-torious "Playboy" relationship cynically strips away all pretense and encourages partners to enter the most trust-oriented of all relationships with the most callow mo-tives. And the infamous generation gap is not created just by misttnderstanding. It is created as much by the parents using this deepest and most responsibility-bearing rela-tionship as a means for their own advancement. Finally, there are religious vows. In the past history of religious life, the value of the vow for. society was preemi-nent. Today what is becoming of supreme value is the relevance of the vo;v for the individual religious. And if the taking of the vow, or the keeping of it even for a specified time much less for life, is similarly restricting, then it is not taken, or it is broken in view of some other commitment. The priority of the individual in the reli-gious taking of vows has become paramount in our day. What we are failing to understand at this point in the pendulum swing of religious commitment is that reli-gious life is perhaps the last social institution in which fidelity and trust are basic and honored, and that this perhaps says something about the witness of religious life in contemporary society. The absolute centrality of promises to the preservat~ion of the quality of human existence has been strongly stressed b);' various authors, bi~t none has made the case more' strongly than the philosopher, Hannah Arendt; In her book, The Human Condition, Miss Arendt pinpoints two factors essential to the preservation of~ life from chaos. The first is forgiveness, or the undoing of mistakes of the past. The second is the faculty to make and keep promises. The first obviously deals with the past. The second concerns the future. The ability to make promises and keep them builds on the reality.of forgiveness, and Mi~s Arendt always keeps the two together. But for our VOLUME 29; "1970 ' "" 829 ]. Foster, O.F.~I. ~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 830 purposes here, we must look especially close at what she says about promise. The making of promises is an expression of one of the most ancient needs of man. In fact the two great institu-tions of western society were built on promises. The Jew-ish- Christian religion grew out of the covenants of Abra-ham with God. And the Roman empire built a legal system on the inviolability of agreements and treaties. This is not surprising. For man's experience of himself in history has revealed a twofold "darkness." The first is his inability to rely on or have complete faith in himself: The second is the unpredictability of human events. And so man, both to insure his own survival and to make his society an increasingly hospitable one, from the very be-ginning has gone out to his fellowman in promise and covenant. He has come to rely on and count on his fel-lows. Promise is what holds society together and staves off barbarity, barbarity both in the forms of totalitarian domination and in the unstructured freedom of anarchy. Although Miss Arendt's primary purpose in treating the faculty of promise is to show that it lies at the very foundation of society, she does not ignore its value for the growth of the individual, which she sees in the con-text of the preservation of one's integrity: Without being bound in the fulfilment of promises, we would never be able to keep our identities; we would be con-demned to wander helplessly and without direction in the darkness of each man's lonely heart, caught in its contradic-tions and equivocalities--a darkness which only the light shed over the public realm through the presence of others, who con-firm the identity between the one who promises and the one who. fulfils can dispel" (The Human Condition, Doubleday Anchor Books, p. 21B). Promise combines with forgiveness, as Miss Arendt sees it, to form the basis of morality. For "these moral pre-cepts [forgiveness and promise] arise . directly out of the will to live together with others., and thus they are like control mechanisms built into the very faculty to start new and unending processes" (p. 221). It is here also that she stresses the creative and life-sustaining force of forgiveness and promise. For if we could not forgive mis-takes and if we could not re-establish firm bonds through promise, then society would be trapped by the "law of mortality" and would steadily wind itself down to death. Forgiveness and promise together make newness con-stantly possible. And as such they are the foundations for the Christian view of life--faith and hope: faith that is fidelity to the convenant, and hope that is created both in this fidelity and in forgiveness. What is important, I think, about Miss Arendt's com-ments is that they place the taking and keeping of vows not in the context of what it can do for the individual but rather of how the taking of vows enters into the very bloodstream of human society. She speaks eloquently of promise as confronting the "darkness" of human exist-ence, of staving off "ruin and destruction," of the "mira-cle that saves the world." She also cites Nietzsche's com-ment that promise is the very distinction which marks off human from animal life. It is precisely to this larger context therefore that we must shift some of our discus-sion of religious vows. Far from being an anachronistic kind of slavery exercised by religious orders to maintain their survival, religious vows must be seen, in Miss Arendt's perspective, as an expression of man's striving not only for survival, but for dignity as well. To further emphasize this perspective, we must focus very precisely on the kind of promises religious make. It is not a promise to complete the transaction of a deal, to run a hospital, to cook forever, or just to do anything. It is a promise to be, and as such a deep commitment and trust. We can forgive someone who does not keep a prom-ise to do something, and we can perhaps survive in a society in which this failure to deliver is relatively fre-quent. But how much can we tolerate of a society that ¯ does not keep its promises to be? When people make great commitments of personal loyalty and then opt out in large numbers, what effect, we must ask, does this have on society at large? And when they go a step further, frequently in justification, and refuse promise at all, or make expressions of loyalty that are weak, decidedly ter-minal and often vague and open-ended, what, we must fnrther ask, effect does this have on society? Does it weaken the ties between men? Is this abandonment of covenant intensifying in a' way that has not occurred to us at all the increasing lack of trust and rising hostility in our society? Does it raise again on a new front, and per-haps the last one, the question: "~¥ho can you connt on?" I suggest that religious have a serious responsibility to raise these issues. They are perhaps the last people in the world in which the free offering of total loyalty has been taken for granted as a matter of policy. Because of this professed commitment, they have been witnessing some-thing to the world, namely, that it is possible to be loyal and trustworthy on a grand scale. They have advanced the ideals of mankind a great milestone. And now sud-denly they have reversed this witness, first in practice, now in theory. The anger and resentment, shock and frustration of many people over the vast exodus from vows, now settling into a flat cynicism, comes as no sur-prise. Religious cannot simply dismiss this anger and cy-nicism with the comment: "They'll get used to it." This may very well be the tragedy we can least afford~that men should get used to it. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 831 ¯ Perhaps then if there is any validity tO these questions another dimension must be added to the mission of reli-gious today. If, as Miss Arendt suggests, the power of making and keeping promises is our bulwark against chaos or repression, if, as Nietszche asserts, fidelity is what distinguishes us from animals, then the question of vows is not merel.y a question of the internal life of a particu-lar community or of individual religious. It is joined to the very issue of human survival. My suggestion, then, is that as religious weigh' the relevance of taking of not taking vows, of their leaving or dissolution, to the per-sonal fulfilment of the individual religious, they also seri-ously discuss again the impact this same taking or aban-doning of vows has for society at large. The problems of the individual religious in an institute that he or she feels is inhibiting or irrelevant or itself unfaithful to its own profession are real eno.ugh to us. They have preoccupied religious for the past several years. But what about this same religious in relationship to a world in which indi-viduals and groups are drifting further and further apart 'because of the decay of trust and faithfulness? Do not religious perhaps have a mission here too? Today most religious orders, in their renewal, are concerned about "going out to the ~orld," trying to be relevant. It would be most ironic, not to say tragic, if what the world most needs, trust and loyalty, were precisely what religious are s'o busily unpacking and heaving overboard. ]. Foster,~O~F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 832 KATHRYN LINDEMANN, O.P. Toward a Definition of "Communi " The problem. During the past few years there has been much debate among American religious concerning "community." "What is community?" and "What do you mean by community?" are two frequently heard ques-tions. This article does not attempt to totally resolve these questions since any further "total solutions" would only add to the present confusion. This paper does attempt to disentangle the discussion and to introduce clarifications which, will make resolu-tion possibl~. To this end it begins with a consideration of the present state of the issue. Then there is a non-po-lemic exposition of the meaning of "community" as found in current literature. Finally there is an indication of some still unanswered questions concerning "commun-ity" which seem important for continued progress toward a clear definition of "community." ¯ .4 first inquiry and a prol~ered solution. The fact that American religious are asking about "community" seems to indicate that they are aware of confusion and are seek-ing to remedy it. Confronted by this confusion, a normal query is: Why such a difficulty concerning "community"? One proffered solution has been to postulate something about the word itself~some attribute which defies defini-tion. "Community," like patriotism, becomes a Wittgen-steinian "slogan word" which is too ambiguous for defini-tion. Such a proposal is both logically unsound and a breeder of irrationality. If one analyzes it, one finds: 1. It accepts the generalization: "If x is a slogan word, then x precludes definition." 2. The postulation is then argued: since the definition of 'community' engenders much confusion, "com-munity" must be a slogan word. Since slogan words are indefinable, then "community" must be indefin-able. This is viciously circular. It assumes what it claims to ÷ Kathryn Linde-mann, O.P., lives at Mr. St. Mary Col-lege' in .,Newburgh, N.Y. 12550. VOLUME',29, '1970 . ~ ÷ ÷ Kathryn Linde- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 834 prove. The statement of the generalization only acts as camouflage. If one wants to conclude that a slogan word is not definable, one cannot assume it is a slogan word because it is indefinable. In the practical order, the proposal leads to subjectiv: ism and a canonization of irrationality. If "community" is indefinable, then there is no procedure for discussing: what it is; what engenders it; what destroys it. Two indi-viduals have no way of ascertaining if they use the term with the same meaning. They are condemned to unknow-ing or subjectivism. Since rationality depends on com-monness, no rational procedures of discussion or decision are possible. Thus all those groups of American religious now committed to the conscious renewal of community can have no use for rationality in their endeavors. At best, community renewal needs to be relegated to some irrational force. A second proposal. The above is not the only possible explanation for the confusion concerning "community." There is also an explanatory avenue opened by the no-tion of the theory laden texture of terms. In Patterns of Discovery, Norman l~ussell Hanson explores the relation between theory and particular observations, facts, and terms. He contends that scientific observation, fact, and meaning are only possible within the context of a theory. Further, he holds that each of these three are theory determined. Thus, two men experiencing the same sense data of orange color patch moving upward through an orange tinted visual field at 6:50 a.m. Eastern Standard Time in Newburgh, New York, might observe two dif-ferent things. One operating in a Ptolemaic framework observes the sun rising. The other operating in a Coper-nican framework observes the earth turning. If each spoke of the "morning event," "morning event" would have, in a certain sense, a different meaning for each.1 Hanson often cites such theory determination of termi-nological meaning: If, in the blank pages of a next year's diary, we find the word 'fire' in the place reserved for St. Valentine's day, no action would suggest itself. Consider another man shouting 'Fire'; but now he is in uniform, hovering over a busy gun crew. Were we members of that crew, our response would be automatic . In other contexts 'fire' might herald a worker's dismissal, or the entrance of a Wagnerian soprano amid pyro-technics. It can signal a phase in the making of pottery, de-scribe how an actress reads her part, or designate some primi-tive rite . 'Fire' has, in each situation, a propositional force; it is shorthand for complex statements whose nature is clear from the contexts of utterance. We are not born able to recog-nize such contexts., for that we need education.2 X Norman Russell Hanson, Patterns o] Discovery (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1965), pp. 7-8. 2 Ibid., p. 63. And again: When the youngster says 'lightning and thunder' he prob-ably means 'flash and rumble.' Again, a lot may follow, but what follows for him is different from what follows for the meteorologist--for whom 'lightning and thunder' probably means 'electrical discharge and aerial disturbance.' 8 ~lpplication to the question of community. In order to see the relation of this theory laden texture of terms to the present confusion among American religious, one needs to know something of the recent intellectual his-tory of religious groups. Since 1949 there has been what Thomas Kuhn would call a "paradigm shift" in religious life.4 Any comparative study of congregational constitu-tions of 1949 and 1969, of the 1949 and 1969 issues of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, or of books dealing with the theory of religious life from that span of years, gives multitudinous evidence of this paradigm change. In this paradigm shift, the term "community" is one which has been strongly affected. It has moved from a peripheral to a central position and has acquired a new extension. This change in "community" cannot be considered in isolation from the total theory of religious life. The change in meaning actually occurred as a result of changes in other areas of the theoretic system. A change of perception concerning certain areas made for new ways of seeing many other areas. And as the whole theory changed, each specific term was affected. Having noted the theory-laden-texture of terms and the fact of paradigm change in religious life, one can now locate reasons for the present confusion concerning "com-munity." These reasons are embedded in two specific fea-tures of the theoretical change among American religious. First, the change has not been a single-stroke event. Sec-ond, the "new theory~' has not yet reached stasis. First, the change in the religious life paradigm has not been a single stroke event. It is a process event whose history can be mapped. See Figure I. Given Theory A (the paradigm at n) and the innovations (I . I5), one finds a transformation in theory during stages n+l. n+5. The first outlines of Theory B become evident at stage n+5. Most often, one thinks of the theory only at stage n (theory A) or stage n+5 (theory B) since at these stages the theory is in stasis. These two stages represent "para-digms" as Kuhn refers to them and the change from paradigm A to parad@n B is a "revolution" in the Kuhnian sense. It is a fact, however, and one at which ~ Ibid., p. 61. 'Thomas Kuhn, The Structure o] Scientific Revolutions (Chi-cago: University of Chicago, 1962), pp. 43ff. ÷ ÷ + "Community" VOLUME 29, :970 835 Theory elements oO OoOo oo\o o\ o o -o n n-'l-1 n÷2 n+3 n÷4 n-~-5 Figure ] 4. 4. 4- Kathryn Linde. mann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Kuhn hints several times, that the intermediary stages exist.5 Now, as is normal in the innovation and diffusion o[ ideas, all members o[ religious congregations do not ac-cept theoretic innovation or revision at the same rate.e Since the acceptance of theoretical innovations is not simultaneous and universal, different individuals within the total population o[ religious may be in different ~tages of theory revision at any given time (n+l. n+5). Since terms are theory determined, such members, being at different theoretic stages, mean different things by " com~munity." Since the dynamics of any change are seldom pondered at the same time as the change is occurring, given reli-gious are usually unaware of the specific theoretic stage they are in. Further, they may not realize that theirs is one stage in a process continuing toward a new paradigm and stasis.7 Thus, one has the situation in which individ-uals will notice that there .are apparent differences in meaning concerning "community" (or a number of other ~ Ibid., pp. 84-7, 89, 128-9. e Everett M. Rogers, Diffusion of Innovations (New York: Free Press, 1968). ~Note, for example, the many expressions of conviction among religious that there will never again be a stasis in religious life or theory. terms such as prayer, apostolate, or common life) but will be at a loss to either: articulate the differences with any precision, or to explain the differences through an enun-ciation of the theory which determines their meanings. This is a major source of the confitsion concerning "com-munity" at the present time. . Second, it is not until a theory approaches stasis that all the relations among particular elements are enunci-ated with any precision. To the extent that this precision is absent, there is an inescapable vagueness about any term endemic to the theory. Most congregations have enunciated the major outlines of the new paradigm in their constitutions. Yet all refer to their constitutional documents as interim or experi-mental, and all expect to produce a more finished prod-uct in a few years. Congregations have built in a time span for working out the practical and theoretic interre-lations among various elements,s The new paradigm is not yet articulated with full precision, and so a certain vagueness concerning a key term such as "community" is inescapable. Until this full precision is reached, a certain confusion will remain in the meaning and use of "com-munity." Summary. The theory laden texture of terms proposal succeeds in answering the first query concerning the why of the present confusion about "community," whereas the indefinability proposal did not. This theory laden texture notion indicates a double source of confusion: the simul-taneous operation of multiple versions of theories within the groups and the lack of precision in the newest theory because it has not yet reached stasis. Having dealt with the first query, the study needs to move on to the next: "How is 'community' defined in the new paradigm among religious?" ~ What Is "Community"? Method. To avoid arguing some of the philosophical issues attendant upon "meaning," "definition," or "expli-cation" this paper will approach the problem a poste-riori. There will be an examination of the literature for religious to see what meaning is already established in relation to "community." From this information, there will be an attempt at precise definition or explication. The two paradigms. The general accounts of "com- S As established in Ecclesiae sanctae, au apostolic letter issued on August 6, 1966, by Pope Paul VI (reprinted iu REVIEW FOR REL~CIoUS, V. 25 (1966), pp. 939--70. ~The meaning of "community" in the old paradigm has re-ceived adequate treatment by sociologists, historians, and theo-logians. The elements of the new paradigm, however, have seldo~n been subject to collection and analysis. ÷ ÷ ÷ "Community" VOLUME 29, 1970 - 837 + ÷ ÷ Kath~ Linde- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS munity" diverge gr~eatly between the old (1949) and the new (1969) paradigms of religious life. Since a contrast often helps specify a complicated term, a general account of "community" as it appears in each of these basic theo-ries is presented first. When one studies old constitutions, those in effect in the forties and fifties, one finds: 1. The term "community" is rarely used. 2. When it is used it is capitalized as a proper noun-- denoting a particular (person, place or thing). 3. It seems to have a non-personal, "thing-like" quality common to collective nouns used in the "otherness" of the third person. 4. Sometimes the word designates a local group, while at other times it refers to an entire group. In the lat-ter instances, one mentally substitutes the word, "Congregation" or "Institute," both of which occur far more frequently in these early documents. Point four seems to strike the terminological core, for the meaning of "community" is primarily that of a hier-archical organization. Almost every sentence utilizing the Word "community" would retain its meaning if "organi-zation" were substituted. Further, the literary structure of these constitutions of the forties and fifties seems domi-nated by the organizational model. They set out goals; they cite organizational procedures for attaining the goals; and they define each person in terms of her role in the organization. They state the duties of the role (posi-tion in the organization), the prerequisites for possessing this role (be it that of an ordinary member or an officer), and the privileges of the role. The documents join a second model to that of hierar-chical organization. There is an interpersonal ideal of a familial society which is most compatible with that of a hierarcical organizational model. Officers are compared to parent figures. As such they ought to give and receive love and concern in a way which officers of an organiza-tion usually do not. Thus, in a unified model of hierar-chical- organization-family one provides an ideal for the lived situation of religious life. Newer constitutions, those of the sixties, present dif-ferent features: 1. "Community" is a common word; it appears time after time. 2. In most documents there is a definite distinction between community-as-organization and communi-ty- as-people. 3. Most, at least implicitly, deny "community" of the hierarchical organization model. "Community" de-notes, a primary group with strong interpersonal ties. This interpersonal notion is often extended to the congregation-as-community or the larger, civic, community. Although texts vary, the following is typical: Religious life is a loving community of free consecrated persons, sharing their lives, their worship, their service and their celibacy. A distinctive mark of the religious life is to be found in the fact that this living of Christ's life, this witnessing to His values, is lived corporately?° The function of a religious community is twofold. The first is to provide the climate for its members to grow to full stature as free persons in an ever deepening union with Christ, and for the sake of His Kingdom to be available to serve individually and corporately the needs of men. The second is to present a threefold witness in the eyes of the persons it serves: a living witness to Christ and His values, a sacrament of Christ's continued presence among men, and a sign of hope that community, which is the only mode of existence proper to men, can be a reality?1 When one looks for a model to explain this use of "community," one tends toward the community of scholars or St. Paul's my.stical body model. Religious community is the union of equals through interpersonal relationships. Each individual gives some service to the group: the serv-ice of authority, of information, of support, and so forth. Further the community itself is situated in relation to other communities. Religious community is always seen as a microcosm of the larger community of the Church and as such the religious community has an intimate re-lation to the People of God (Church) and the world com-munity.~ 2 Distinction. in terminology. Hence forward this paper will speak of the general account of community as found in the 1949 paradigm as "community1" and that in the 1969 paradigm as "community2". At present few religious make such an explicit distinc-tion. A single term, "community," is used for both mean-ings, although some religious are beginning to say that although both are called "community" only the 1969 paradigm expresses real community. Toward a Definition of "Community2" The term. In analyzing the common use of "community,;', one finds a distinction clearly made be-tween "having community2" and "being a community,". The latter is a wider term which necessarily includes the former. 10Sisters of the Third Order of St. Dominic of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, Religious Lile: Lived Reality (Grand Rapids, Michigan: 1969), p. 4. n Ibid., p. 10. ~ Yves M. J. Congar, o.P., "The Theology of Religious Women," REv~w for RELIGIOUS, V. 19 (1960), p. 26. ÷ ÷ ÷ " ommunity" VOLUME 29, 1970 859 ÷ + + Kathryn Linde. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Having community,". The instances in which the term "having community2" is clearly applied reveal three nec-essary elements: a group of persons, united in sharing "goods," and either a resulting witness to Christian values or personal growth of some members. First, intuitions may indicate the last (witness or growth) as non-necessary, but when one discusses specific examples with members of religious congregations, one finds a hesitancy to apply "community2" to anything lack-ing a result in witness or personal growth. Confronted by an example exhibiting the first two characteristics of (1) a group and (2) sharing goods, which lacks, however, the third characteristic of witness or growth, members tend to say: "Maybe the witness or growth was really there but you didn't notice it"; or: "If there was no witness or growth you only thought you had community, but you really didn't." Hence this third characteristic is included as a necessary element for "having community2",is In pressing for precision, one finds that each of these characteristics is a term with its own range or extension: I. group of persons--extends to all persons united in groups, ranging from the smallest group of three to the largdst number so designatable. 2. sharing goods--extends to all goods, both internal and external, which can be shared by humans. In the context of "having community2" at least one internal good must be present, but any number of additional internal or external goods may be present also. 3. witness or personal growth extends to (1) all witness to Christian values and (2) all growth in personal maturity. "Having community2" is the term applied to the event which occurs when all three of these characteristics inter-sect. More formally. One may say that "x has community," if and only if: x is a group of persons; and there exists at least one y such that y is an internal good and x shares y; and either x gives witness to Christian values, or there is at least one z such that z is a member of the group's union in sharing and z grows in maturity as a result of this mem-bership. "Being a community2". When one examines the use of "being a community2" by religious, several crucial cases reveal themselves: 1. If a group "has community.o" frequently for several 18One is struck by the difficulty of making empirical observa-tions of personal growth or witness to othe,~. Yet this is how the term is used by religious. This study proposes to describe, to cite extension of terms, not to evaluate them as "true to reality," "false to reality," and so forth. weeks but then illness or work prohibits this "hav-ing community2" for awhile, no one denies the .group still is a community. All consider the non-hav-ang of community as a temporary condition which does not destroy the being-a-communi.ty of the group. On the othei: hand, all agree that an absence of "having community2" continued for a long enough period, would negate the gr9up's being a community. 2. If a group lives together for some time but shares little more than their domicile, no one designates them as "being a community2". 3. Groups experiencing two or three instances of in-tense "having-community2" are assigned a status of "being a community2" equivalent to other groups which have eight or nine experiences of community on a much lower level of intensity. To preserve these designations of being a community, this researcher proposes a function, C: frequency of having community X intensity of having communityt4 the total duration (or proposed duration) of the group All items having a C result of at least 0.3 are described as "being a community2". They fall in the extension of the tenn. Thus one can replace the externally vague term "being a community2" with the clearly defined one of "any x, where x is an item having a C function of at least 0.3." Some criticisms o[ the above analysis. There is much lacking in this whole analysis. This lack extends both to the theological and to the empirical dimensions of the discussion. First, theological aspects, for example, the cen-trality of Christ in community, are not explored in this rather philosophical approach. Yet these aspects are most important parts of the notion of community. Second, em-pirical aspects are incomplete. The method of finding the intensity of community noted in footnote 14 is inade-quate. Also, there have been no empirical studies to jus-tify, for example, the choice of 0.3 as the limit for "being a community2". Indeed, there is a lack of precise data for much of this discussion. The Task Remaining ÷+ American religious need to continue to explore this + notion of "community." They need to listen carefully to 1, The intensity of community is a function obtained by assign-ing positive integers to the elements contained in the range of each characteristic necessary for "having community.". The product of these integers indicates the level of intensity of "having com-munity.'. VOLUME 29, 1970 841 what others are saying about community and to note exactly where their statements agree and where they dif-fer. And when they find that they differ, religious need to be willing to continue the discussion. They need to find the reason for the differences. Sometimes it will be a false difference caused by incomplete communication of mean-ing. in other cases there may be a real difference. When religious reach the point of finding the exact differences, they are then keady to begin the honest dialogue common to every discipline which is alive and healthy. Out of such dialogue can come a truer understanding of '~com-munity" and perhaps a revitalization of their communal living. Perhaps, too, such dialogue will result in the reali-zation that although "community1" and "community2" have appeared as opposing theories, they are not antitheti-cal notions. They describe two different aspects of the same phenomenon. The above is an ambitious plan for religious. It is also difficult. Yet real analysis, the foe of polemic, is not only difficult it is very necessary. Emotivity makes poor theo-retic justification, and no theory can claim reasoned alle-giance if its advocates are not willing to utilize the pro-cessses of reason. Kathryn Lind¢- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS RICHARD M. McKEON, S.J. Retirement Policy for Religious With an increasing number of people enjoying a longer span of life many religious should be alert to the fact that they too will hit the retiring age before they realize it. Yes, retirement for older religious is finally being recognized formally. To many retirement will come as a shock. They will think that they have reached tlae end of the line and that they will drift rapidly into the hereafter. It is time that all religious orders wake up to this new problem. They must have programs to acquaint their older members with all facets of what retirement means. In this respect a great deal can be learned from the world of industry where programs have been in effect for many years. Later we shall discuss some of these and try to apply their wisdom to our older religious. Superiors who are formulating programs must face this issue squarely. Why should the accumulated experience and developed talent be lost to apostolic endeavors merely because a certain age for retirement is at hand? Here is capital which should be yielding dividends. If older religious are forced to coast along waiting for Ga-briel's horn to summon them to give an account of their stewardship, that accounting will be harder to make. Time has value. Time lost is never regained: "Some secrets of the well-rounded retired life are these: make the most of what you have; wherever you are, go with your whole heart; keep your eye on what's coming up, not on what's slipping by; play your role with comeliness; do not let the minutes rust away" (Bank of Canada Monthly Letter, December 1967). It is presumed after long years in religion one has a true sense of values. Before retirement each one should assess his own possibilities and plan to achieve new goals. Many opportunities will arise to afford an active life within one's mental and physical condition. What do older religious in good health want? They Richard McKeon, S.J., teaches at Le Moyne College; Syr-acuse, N.Y. 13214. VOLUME 29, 1970 8~5 ÷ R. M. McKeon; Sd. REVIEW FOR REI~?IOU~S want to remain active and to do good as long as possible; to utilize their special talents; to receive the same respect they commanded in middle age. Rightfully they expect the functional policies and the traditions of religious life to be practiced in their regard. The older religious must be convinced of being heart-edly in earnest in what he can still do. Discouragement and difficulties will be challenges. He must have a firm resolve to carry on. If he has a reputation for special gifts, rightly may he expect others to approach him. To quote the Talmud: "If you see a man of understanding, get you betimes to him, and let your foot wear out the steps of his door." At least once a year, usually during retreat, he should make an honest appraisal of himself: "How is my health? Have I checked with a doctor? Have I reviewed my work of the past year to see what I have done well? What mistakes .have been made? What are my plans for the coming year? Have I determined to keep my mind alert, to keep feeding my mind by study so as to contribute to my up-to-dateness and the germination of ideas?" Richard Butler, O.P., warns: "Those approaching old age should prepare themselves for the trial ahead by strengthening their faith, patching up the holes in their characters, stiffening their self-reliance, developing new and sustaining interests, discovering orientations of ac-tivity that will endure and will provide some amount of satisfaction for them" (America, November 19, 1966). Good ideas can be picked up from ordinary literature on retirement. For men and women who have been highly educated and employed in apostolic work it would be better to study what is going on in the field of indus-try and business. Special research studies on retirement have been made at the California Institute of Technology, the University of Michigan, and the University of Chicago. The Caltech report suggests "a model program and a variety of ways in which it can be adapted to different company situa-tions." These studies are recommended to religious orders which are preparing programs. A digest of the program at Esso will afford some help-ful suggestions. First, changes in life expectancy are ex-plained. Then it tells how millions in the over 65 age group are non-productive but still consumers. In a word, when a worker retires, he is no longer productive to the country, profitable to the company, and useful to himself. Compulsory retirement is explained together with the benefits offered through social security and pensions. But more accent is placed on the sociological problem--how the retiree can be active, fruitful, and constructive. Esso offers help and counsel to each worker to think through his new situation. The company "feels that retirement is something earned by faithful service, a form of 'graduation' into a new phase of life rather than a 'casting out' process. Re-tirement should be the opportunity for the employee to enjoy the fruits of his labors in freedom, leisure and relaxation as well as an opportunity to serve himself, his family and his community in ways not open to him dur-ing his working career." A year before the set date group discussions are held covering topics such as health, planning for the future, what has been done, and so on. Plenty of appropriate literature is available. Each prospective retiree is pre-sented with a copy of How to Retire and Enjoy It by Ray Giles (McGraw-Hill). The Wall Street Journal frequently publishes articles on how retired executives keep busy, Their prime motiva-tion is not to make money for themselves, but to help others in trouble. Although some go into real estate and others start small businesses, many of the best become consultants as a challenging occupation. They form com-panies to give their specialized skills to small firms which need professional advice. The Mohawk Development Service of Schenectady, New York, has an excellent record of over twenty-five years. It is composed of former General Electric Company executives who have pooled their talent and experience. At Wilmington, Delaware, a similar group of Du Pont managers is engaged in a variety of projects. Charles H. Kellstadt retired as chairman of Sears, Roe-buck in 1962. At 72 in 1970 he is chairman and president of the General Development Corporation, one of Flori-da's largest land companies. He took over when things were in very bad shape. Today the corporation is most prosperous. His goal is to do a $250-million business a year. Religious orders should become a, cquainted with the International Executive Service Corps. Here is a magnifi-cent contribution which American executives are making in helping developing nations to help themselves. Its work should inspire qualified older religious to do some-thing similar to aid the foreign missions. The ISEC is a non-profit organization with headquar-ters in New York. It sends seasoned executives to counsel companies in the poorer lands. There is no salary but travel and living expenses are assured. Within the past five years a total of 1244 projects have been successfully completed in 45 countries. Optimism and the challenge of difficult problems have ÷ ÷ ÷ R. M. McKeon, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 846 given these men a new interest in life. They work with the native managers, not over them. Their know-how is eagerly sought. Using tact and patience they guide local managers to realize their own great potential Helping others to help themselves, who in turn will help thou-sands more, is certainly a high type of social action. Sylvia Porter in her column for December 16, 1969 paid tribute to the IESC and then put the question which might be put to older religious: "Why couldn't the con-cept be brought back home so that men and women in this age bracket work as volunteers in the ghetto and rural poverty areas of our own land?'" Our religious could make a great contribution here. "Life is only exciting when you are contributing in the mainstream." Keeping in mind what retired executives have done, let us make application to religious. First of all, those who have been superiors for a long time are still human. With a fair record of successful management, there is danger that many will regard themselves as indispensable. Every undertaker will contradict this statement. They have bur-ied too many. But to former superiors retirement does come as a shock. In industry it is maintained that compulsory retire-ment is the only way to clear out executive deadwood. Many of us know that it is a very touchy to mention possible retirement to an old superior: "Top manage-ment generally considers the subject as unmentionable as bereavement." Older religious might take a hint from the remark of a wise judge: "Retirement implies at least part of the motive power must originate in the person whose status is to be changed. Children are put to bed---adults retire." They should also remember that once the tension of their past job is over, arteriosclerosis might hit them with a stroke. Older religious should find comfort of mind if they have done their work faithfully in the past. As the time for retirement approaches, there should be no real repug-nance in letting quaIified younger people take over. If those in authority had signaled out men with executive ability and given them opportunity for training, there would be less trouble. Let us be blunt. Formerly, older people were respected, their advice was sought for, younger folk delighted to learn of their experiences. No longer in positions of au-thority, they soon find they are being ignored. Take a retiree who is removed from apostolic action which domi-nated his past life. Now assign him to a house for retirees as has been suggested. His health is still good. His mind is alert. But there is nothing to challenge it. He begins to feel unwanted, morose, and he gradually loses interest in things with which he was formerly associated. In such a state of mind death is bound to come more rapidly. In many universities and colleges religious teachers must retire when they reach the same age as set for lay teachers. Without a proper program they may be placed in isolation, as just noted, with no demand for their services. Edward F. Heenan, S.J., has written that many religious groups "have been increasingly enticed to adopt the bureaucratic business model in an effort to more effectively operationalize their goals." Retirement need not mean the end of the road. It should be accepted as a challenge. It means an awareness of the personal ability of the religious to perform, to continue .productively, and to make older life worth the living for one's self and others. Longfellow has put this Challenge attractively: For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress, And, as the evening twilight fades away, The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day. In the past a religious, like any other active person, got recognition and identity for the work he was doing. He could possess a just pride in his accomplishments. By the same token, when he does special work as a retiree, he should receive due praise. Many religious are truly hum-ble. Nevertheless all men appreciate recognition for any job well done. It does boost morale. On the other hand, there is the problem of rejection. To feel rejected, especially by those with whom one was closely associated, often causes a heavy strain on the nerves. It can easily make an older religious irritable and upset his health. We maintain it is a fatal mistake to put a healthy, older religious in a home for retirees. It will depress him. With nothing to challenge a once busy person he will rapidly decline in health, mental and physical. For example, if a religious has been at a college for the past ten or more years before retirement age, then we hold there is really a moral obligation to keep him as a member of the community as long as his health holds up. Why? Because to separate him from the familiar atmos-phere where he knows his fellow religious and they know him, from his friends on the faculty and from people in the local community would be dreadful in its conse-quences. It is here that he can continue to do more good than elsewhere: "Familiar things and places are priceless as we grow older--make no mistake about that." Dr. Edmund V. Cowdry, Washington University, St. Louis, an authority on gerontology, states: "More impor-tant than any other single factor is the old person's need Retirement VOLUME 29, 1970 for a community of interests. Nature seems to have or-dained that those who abdicate from life socially will soon abdicate from life physically." Where should there be a better community of interests than in the house where the religious has been living for years? Father Heenan remarks: "The closer the community approaches the communal idea of integrating and providing for the needs of every member, the more successful the aging process." A bureaucracy might be more efficient but it would tend to depersonalize and estrange the members. A mature religious should know that leisure for pleas-ure's sake alone will not bring happiness. But there is that approved pleasure which comes from doing good to others, especially the less fortunate. Instead of the deceits of idleness there can be a modified form of asceticism. There can be early rising with sincere attention to reli-gious duties. Planning for and being prudently busy with the needs of others will improve health. Two qualities will help the retirees: "They do enthusiastically .what-ever they are doing, and they get deepdown joy out of very simple things." Accordingly it is very foolish to think that retirement means the cessation of activities and merely a vegetating process. Retirement should be dynamic. One must beware of tyrannical trifles which can enslave. Too much televi-sion with its many insipid programs can mark a mental decline. In the 1955 Governor's Conference on the Aging in New York it was held that "religion is the key to a happy old age because man is essentially a spiritual and social bbing. The aged turn to religion even if they have been lax in their youth." What, then, Of men and women dedicated to God, who now have the time and conveni-ence to make up for past neglect because of distraction in the workingday world? There can be a renewal of spirit-ual life and a practice of reparation to gain grace to face bravely the reality of their new status. Since Vatican Council II changes in training have been made to meet the needs of younger religious. They have been very frank about what they need to be effective in a challenging new world. By the same token, older reli-gious should be outspoken in presenting their needs and claims. That is why at the young age of seventy-three I am writing this defense. R. M. McKeon, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELI{;IOUS 848 SISTER DOROTHY COONS, B.V.M. Life Style Study: Convent Li g This study of the pattern of religious living as it is carried out in the various convents of the Sisters of Char-ity of the Blessed Virgin Mary was undertaken as a part of a series of such studies of modern religious living that have been made in the past five years (see l~vmw for I~LIG~OUS, March 1970). The instrument used was constructed by Sister Cather-ine Leonard with the help of the other members of the Commission on Experimentation and Research, espe-cially Sister Helen Thompson and Sister Mary Kenneth Keller. The latter was responsible for processing the data on the computer. Questions Examined Four major questions gave direction to this study: To what extent do the sisters living in the traditional con-vent life style feel that this is providing them with necessary support in community living? What are the topics of concern in these convents? ¯ To what extent is there satisfaction or dissatisfaction with the life style, and what changes would be desirable in the cases where there is dissatisfaction? What are some of the general characteristics of the local communities in the areas of common liturgical experiences, in living arrangements, and in financial arrangements? Group Studied The questionnaires were sent to approximately 1800 sisters living in 153 convents. Those living in apartments and the patients in Marian Hall were not included. A total of almost 1300 sisters from 151 convents responded. According to the number of years in the congregation, the respondents fell into the following categories: ÷ Sister Dorothy Coom, BN.M., is chairman of [BVM] Commission on Ex-perimentation and Research at Clarke College; Dubuque, Iowa 52001. VOLUME 29, 1970' 849 Years in the Congregstion Number Percent 0-4 23 1.7 6.6 10-19 953 19.6 20-29 231 17.9 30-39 273 21.2 Over 40 415 32.1 $i~t~r D~rothy REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 850 This distribution is similar to that of the entire congre-gation with the exception of the oldest group who num-ber approximately 42% of the total. To a lesser degree the groups in the 5-10+ years differ from the general distri-bution because it is in these age groups that most of those living in apartments fall. In 49 of the 151 houses 100% of the sisters living there responded; 136 houses sent responses from more than half of the sisters; 15 houses were represented by less than half; and two did not return any of the questionnaires. Support in Community Provided by Convent Life Style Certain items on the questionnaire were included to bring out the general characteristics of "community," es-pecially those which provide mutual support for those living together. These questions and the results for both the congregation as a whole and when subdivided accord-ing to years in the congregation are given in Table I. While there are differences in the percentage responses to the positive questions, on the whole they are clearly above the 50% levels, ranging from 91.3% agreement with "Sisters seem concerned for one another" to 73.9% agreement with "Sisters like to be together" and "Com-munication among the sisters in our house is good." There is a similar picture shown by the disagreement with such negative items as "Money is a source of ten-sion" and "Communi.ty life suffers because the sisters are out doing other things." There is a surprising degree of agreement on the items that reflect a supportive atmos-phere among the various age groups. Figure 1, for exam-ple, shows that there is a high degree of agreement among all age categories on the item, "Communication is good," and that the disagreement is slightly higher among those in the 5-9 and 10-19 year group. There is also a slightly higher rate of disagreement on the part of the sisters in the 5-9 years in the congregation on the item: "Sisters plan together or in groups things that the whole house will enjoy," as shown in Figure 2. On the other hand, one of the most significant items, "Sisters in the house seem concerned for one another," shows fairly uniform agree-ment and disagreement in all age groups. See Figure 3. On a somewhat similar item: "Sisters like to be together," the pattern of responses is different. See Figure 4. + + + % 100 75 50 25 0 [] Agree [] Disagree O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 1. Communication is Eood. % 100 75 5O 25 O, 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 2. Sisters plan to-gether. % lOO 75 50 25 o 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 3. Sisters seem con-cerned for one another. % lOOI 75 5O 25 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 4. Sisters like to be together. + + + Sister Dorothy REVIEW.FOR RELIGIOUS 852 The two items that would ideally be answered by disa-greement, "Money is a source of tension," and "Commun-ity life suffers because the sisters are out so often doing other.things," showed unexpected results. The similarity of the results for both agreement and disagreement as shown in Figure 5 suggests that, at least among those responding to the questionnaire, money is not the prob-lem that it is generally thought to be. Figure 6 shows a higher percentage of agreement on the item, "Commun-ity life suffers because the sisters are out so often doing other things," among the older age groups. While this might have been expected, the actual difference is not as great as could have been predicted. Topics of Concern It was hoped that areas of concern could be identified by the items that are frequently topics of discussion. These were found to cover the whole range of those sug-gested, with the following results according to frequency: % 100 75 5O 25 0 % 1 O0I 75' O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Years in the Community Figure 5. Money is a source of tension. Figure 6. Community life suffers because sisters are out so often doing other things. religious life (72%), world news (68%), house problems (68%), the Church (67%), problems of the larger BVM congregation (67%), students and their families (57%), peace and war (56%), and U.S. political issues (53%). Others were indicated as being topics of discussion by fewer than half of the respondents, with hair and clothes being in lower positions than the items of general con-cern in the world, in the country, and in the congrega-tion. Satisfaction and Dissatisfaction The question, "Given your preference, and the absence of any practical consideration that would require other-wise, would you continue to live next year under the same life style," was answered "Yes" by 947 sisters (73%) and "No" by 259 or 20%. Those who answered "No" were asked to check the form of living that they would prefer and the item most often checked was "More regu-lar daily schedule of prayer and house activity." This preference was indicated by. 138 or 10.7% of those an-swering, while the second highest condition checked was "With persons who are more congenial." The results of this section of the questionnaire were broken down in a comparison with the items that were thought to reflect "community" and the results seemed somewhat indefinite. In general, those who would prefer to remain in the same life style had higher "Agree" scores on the positive items and lower "Disagree" scores on those that were negative, and the opposite was true of those who wished to change life styles. For example, on the question, "Communication among the sisters is good," of those who would remain in the same life style, 77% agreed to the statement and 12% disagreed, while among those who would change to another life style 36% -I. + + VOLUME 29, 1970 853 ÷ .÷ ÷ Sister Dorothy REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 854 agreed to the statement and 54% disagreed. There were similar combinations of "agreement" and "disagreement" in the breakdowns of this item with "The sisters often plan together or in groups things that the whole house will enjoy," "Sisters in the house seem concerned for one another," and "Sisters in the house seem ~o like to be together." It is not clear to what extent these differences provide explanations for the desire to change life styles. There may be other explanations not touched upon by tl~is study. Characteristics of Local Communities Part I of the instrument was completed by the Com-munity Representative in each of the convents. No pat-tern of common prayer and liturgical experiences emerged. This might be due to the large number of un-answered items and to uncertainty in interpreting them. The most frequently checked item was "Celebration of the Eucharist" but the range of responses suggests that there were different interpretations to the question; for example, 25 Community Representatives checked "Sel-dom or never." This seems to indicate that there was uncertainty about whether it meant convent chapel or parish church, fora response of 100% daily celebration the Eucharist might have been expected. The rosary is still recited daily in 48 houses with an indication in 24 of them that most of the sisters attend. Vespers is said daily in 43 houses with 23 reporting that most attend. The changing pattern of prayer in the congregation is shown in Table II. Responses on the items concerning financial arrange-ments show the greatest possible variation in meeting most of the ordinary expenses. The sources include com-mon funds, personal stipend, parish, and school, and there were few items that did not fall into each of these. See Table III for items that are included, for the most part, in the three most general categories. Discussion--Interpretative Summary The study of the foregoing material and other details that were not included in the present report seem to provide a message of encouragement. It is evident that those who answered this questionnaire are, in large meas-ure, content in the convent living life style and that they feel their living situation provides them with the condi-tions for personal support that are necessary for Christian community living. A further reason for encouragement lies in the fact that, with few exceptions in the 5-19 year groups, there is no marked disagreement among the var-ious age groups in the congregation. Examination of the results of individual convents TABLE II Frequency and Attendance of Rosary and of Communal Prayer as Reported by Comraunity Representatives k,- Occ~-[Se)do=/ ~ost ~ ] Pew "__._~_~" ~ '_____~_~ s ionMl~y N eve_~_r A tten~ A tten~ 2tte2d Communal Prayerl~l~l~[~l~l~[- ~ TABLE III Methods of Meeting Ordinary Expenses as Shown by Responses of Community Representatives Common Fund Personal Stipend Both Common Fund and Personal Stipend Board/room Per capita Cook Mass stipends Gifts Insurance Spiritual reading books Household expenses Education Medical and dental Clothing Personal travel Entertainment Toll/long dis-tance telephone calls Non-prescription drugs Home visits Memberships/dues Refreshments other than meals Books other than spir-itual Carfare Use of car Professional travel showed great variation in tendencies toward general posi-tive and negative impressions. At this time, no definite score for rati