Suchergebnisse

Die Arbeit untersucht Rahmenbedingungen, Kriterien und Restriktionen für ökonomisch und sozial funktionsfähiges Kleinprivatwaldeigentum vor dem Hintergrund der gesellschaftlichen Transformation von Sozialismus zu Demokratie und Marktwirtschaft. Da kleineres Eigentum vieler Bürger aufgrund seiner positiven sozialen Folgen erwünscht, ökonomisch aber oft benachteiligt ist, bedarf es notwendigerweise der Ergänzung durch autonome Kooperation seiner Eigentümer. Aus der Eigentums- und Kooperationstheorie abgeleitete Kriterien für die Funktionsfähigkeit von Privateigentum und von Kooperation in komplexen Ressourcensystemen werden für die Bewertung der naturalen, ökonomischen, sozialen und rechtlichen Strukturen des Privatwaldes im Freistaat Sachsen und seiner Eigentümer verwendet. Gleichzeitig werden den Kleinprivatwald beeinflussende historische und aktuelle Prozesse hinsichtlich ihrer Wirkungen auf dessen Strukturen bewertet. Dabei zeigt sich eine extreme räumliche und rechtliche Fragmentierung des kleinen privaten Waldeigentums, das über weite Strecken weder ökonomisch noch sozial funktionsfähig ist. Neben einer geringen räumlichen Erstreckung der Eigentumseinheiten läßt sich eine starke Schrumpfung des rechtlichen Eigentumskerns feststellen. Viele Eigentumsrechte an Ressourcennutzungen sind davon entkoppelt und stehen dem Staat oder speziellen Interessengruppen zu. Verbreitet liegen räumliche und rechtliche Anti-Allmendestrukturen vor. Die Kooperation der Eigentümer kleiner Waldflächen ist in Sachsen nur gering entwickelt. Die Ursachen für diesen Zustand sind vielfältig. Die Eigentumspolitik der DDR hinterließ eine extreme Zersplitterung des privaten Waldeigentums. Die Forstpolitik des 20. Jhdts. in Deutschland, geleitet von drei Denkschemata (Präferenz für Großbetriebe, Überlegenheit professioneller forstlicher Sachkunde bei der Waldbewirtschaftung, Deutungshoheit über die Gemeinwohlfunktionen des Waldes), trug zur rechtlichen Entkernung des kleinen Waldeigentums maßgeblich bei. Die meisten forstpolitischen Handlungskonzepte im Kleinprivatwald stellen die materielle Ressourcennutzung (insbesondere Holz) in den Mittelpunkt und vernachlässigen seine Bedeutung als soziale Ressource. Die spezifischen Bedingungen der gesellschaftlichen Transformation und der sächsischen Forstpolitik nach der politischen Wende 1990 haben diese Entwicklungen fortgesetzt und insbesondere die Bildung von Zusammenschlüssen der Waldeigentümer als Selbsthilfeorganisationen behindert. Die drei in der Strukturanalyse festgestellten strukturellen Kernprobleme des kleinen privaten Waldeigentums (mangelnde Funktionsfähigkeit als Privateigentum, geringe Kooperation der Eigentümer und Unternutzung der Ressource) sind eng gekoppelt. Zur Überwindung dieser Probleme ist die räumliche oder rechtliche Bündelung von Eigentumsrechten von großer Bedeutung. In einer auf der Strukturanalyse aufbauenden Modellüberlegung für ein kleinparzelliertes Privatwaldgebiet werden Kosten und Nutzen von Veränderungen der Eigentums- und Kooperationsstrukturen gegenübergestellt. Daraus werden aussichtsreiche Lösungsansätze zur Eigentumsbündelung abgeleitet (Zuerwerb, starke Kooperationsanreize, verbesserte Rahmenbedingungen für die Bildung forstwirtschaftlicher Zusammenschlüsse), die in Expertengesprächen einer Bewertung durch wichtige Akteure im Politikfeld Kleinprivatwald unterzogen werden. Hierbei schälen sich zwei Entwicklungspfade zur Strukturanpassung heraus: als Hauptpfad eine Vergrößerung individuellen kleinen Waldeigentums, als Nebenpfad die Neubildung gemeinschaftlichen Eigentums. Beide bedürfen der Ergänzung durch verstärkte Kooperation. Die Entwicklungspfade werden durch Vorschläge für eine Strukturentwicklungspolitik konkretisiert. Diese wird als eine ordnungskonforme Politik zur Strukturanpassung, in den Randbereichen funktionsfähigen Eigentums um Mechanismen zur Eigentumsbündelung ergänzt, definiert. Die Vorschläge umfassen insbesondere Deregulierungen im Grundstücksverkehr sowie eine verbesserte Informationsbereitstellung über verfügbare Waldflächen. Zur Überwindung hoher Hürden bei der Neubildung gemeinschaftlichen Eigentums werden Lösungsansätze mittels eines Waldgenossenschaftsgesetzes bzw. über die Flurneuordnung ausgearbeitet. Für die Verstärkung von Kooperation sind insbesondere die Rückführung staatlicher Angebote zur Leistungsübernahme und die Bereitstellung forstbetrieblicher Anlagerungskerne für Zusammenschlüsse sinnvoll; ferner erscheinen als Anreiz Zugriffsmöglichkeiten auf staatliche Eigentumsrechte geeignet, die an eine Kooperation der Eigentümer kleiner Waldflächen gebunden sind. Insgesamt wird eine deutliche Rückübertragung von Verantwortung im Kleinprivatwald auf dessen Eigentümer empfohlen. Staatliches Handeln sollte sich auf die Bereitstellung von Information und Regeln konzentrieren, die die Selbstverantwortung und Handlungsfähigkeit der Eigentümer kleiner Waldflächen stärken. ; The study aims at finding general conditions, criteria and restrictions for functional small scale private forest property under the conditions of societal transformation from a socialist to a democratic society and market economy. Due to its social benefits smaller property of many citizens is societally desirable, but often economically disadvantageous. Therefore small scale property needs to be complemented by autonomous co-operation of its owners. Deducted from property and collective action theories eight criteria for the economic and social operability of property in a complex resource system are set and used to evaluate the natural, economic, social and legal structures of private forests and their owners in the Free State of Saxony. Also past and present processes which influence forest property structures are evaluated. An extreme degree of spatial and legal fragmentation of small private forest property can be shown; to a large extent it is neither economically nor socially viable. Not only are ownership units small, but the legal core of property has shrunk as well. It has been de-coupled from many property rights in resource utilization, which in turn have been appropriated by government and special interest groups. Frequently, commons as well as spatial and legal anti-commons can be found. Co-operation of small scale forest owners in Saxony is only weak. There are many causes for this weak state of small private forest property. The property policy of the former GDR left private forest property extremely fragmented. Characterized by three conceptual patterns (large holding paradigm; paradigms of superiority of scientifically based forest management knowledge and superior ability of professional foresters to recognize and realize the public welfare in small scale private forest management), public forest policy in Germany in the 20th century widely supported this gutting of the property core. Most concepts for action towards small scale private forest property focus on harvesting raw materials, particularly timber, while they neglect the importance of small scale private forests as a social resource. The specific rules of the societal transformation after 1990 and Saxonian forest politics since then have continued this weakening of small private forest property and impeded the development of forest owner co-operatives as self–help organizations. The three main problems of small private forest property shown by the structural analysis (lacking viability as private property, low degree of co-operation between owners and underutilization of the resource) are closely interconnected. Spatial or legal bundling of property rights is essential for overcoming these problems. The cost and benefit of change of property and co-operative structures are then compared in a model of a parcellized private forest area, giving the opportunity to deduct several approaches for successfully bundling property (bundling by acquisition, stronger incentives for co-operation, improvement of the general conditions for founding of co-operations). These approaches are then evaluated by experts representing important groups in the field of forest policy for small private forests. The individual enlargement of small forest property appears as the main path of structural adjustment. A second path of development considered to be suitable is the establishment of shared private property. Both paths need to be supplemented by stronger co-operation. These two paths for development are completed by proposing a policy to develop property structures of small forests. This policy is defined as a regulatory policy enhancing structural adjustment which is supplemented on the edges of viable small private property by incentives for bundling of property. Proposals aim at deregulating property markets and better information about available forest parcels. Solutions for founding new associations of shared private property are proposed by means of a forestry association act or by action under the land consolidation procedure. For the reinforcement of co-operation reducing excessive management services of the state forest administration to private forest owners and provision of agglomeration cores for co-operation building seem to be necessary. Furthermore, giving forest owners collectively a right to take over property rights for uses of forests so far held by the state may be useful. The main recommendation of the thesis is giving back responsibility to small forest owners, while government action in small private forests should be limited to the provision of information and of rules that are apt to strengthen self-responsibility and the capacity of small forest owners to act by themselves.

The religious minorities have been part of Modern Iraq since it was founded in 1921 and they can be distinguished from the majority by their customs, traditions, beliefs and histories. Moreover, historically, Iraq (and Iraqi Kurdistan) has been the cradle of most of the religious minorities in the region. Iraqi religious minorities such as Jews, Christian, Yazidis, Sabean-Mandaean, and Kākāʾi are considered the oldest communities of Iraq history. They are considered to be, in some ways, the indigenous groups of Iraq. Republican Iraq underwent a period of immense socio-political change which impacted significantly on religious minorities in particular. Over time they, and the newer religious minorities like the Bahaʾi, began to face severe discrimination, which led to their being considered inferior to the majority. This, in turn, led to occasional extreme persecution and forced displacement campaigns often undertaken by the successive Iraqi governments and subsequently by the (Muslim) majority. This study focuses on social, political and historical factors pertaining to the lives of Iraqi religious minorities, and attempts to uncover the sequence of events that led to the current phenomenon of religious minorities fleeing their home countries in order to preserve their traditions. This study is based on an analytical and descriptive method and should be considered a historical research of events in the light of available archival documents, legal sources and press articles. This dissertation is divided into ten chapters. In first and second chapters the methodological and theoretical framework applied is discussed, as well as an overview of the concept of "minority" as well as definitions of religious minorities in Iraq. Chapter three and four deal with the contextualization of the historical and socio-political frameworks that inform the background of this dissertation which relates religious minorities with their backgrounds in the period of Monarchical Iraq (1920-1958). Chapter five discusses the religious minorities during the first republic of Iraq 1958-1963. This era is significant in that it was a time of unprecedented change, one which formed the interim between the Monarchical Era and the era of the nationalists. Furthermore, the first republic is significant because it constitutes a kind of 'golden age' for all Iraqi minorities. Chapters six, seven and eight are the main focus of this dissertation. They are primarily concerned with the second republican era, which is the period of the two ʿĀrifs (1963-1968). This particular era was one of conflict which saw the emergence of subsidiary identities. Chapter six examines the rise of sectarianism and confessionalism in Iraq. Chapter seven engages with the scattered religious minorities (SRM), under the republican eras after 1963 up to the present time. This chapter introduces the situation of three scattered religious minorities throughout Iraq: the Jews, Bahaʾi, and Sabean-Mandaeans. In chapter eight, the focus shifts to the geographically-concentrated religious minorities (GCRM). This chapter deals with three religious minorities: the Kākāʾi, Christians and Yazidis, all of whom dwell in the so-called Disputed Territories, a region which is disputed by the two parties involved in the conflict in Iraq: The Central Government of Iraq (CGI) and the Kurdish Movement. Chapter nine and ten discuss the prospective dimensions of political developments in Iraq in relation to religious minorities after 1968. In chapter nine, the impact of change in the legislation pertaining to the rights of religious minorities is examined, as well as judicial rights in the Iraqi courts, with a focus on the Law of Civil Status No.65/1972 in particular. The final chapter traces socio-political developments within the religious minorities, beginning with the last Farhūd of the Jews. This period saw re-forging the case of the Iraqi Christians, the renewed controversy over Yazidi Identity among disparate Kurdish political and religious movements, and ongoing demographic change brought about by forced Islamisation in Yazidi areas. The Sabean-Mandaean minority also experienced a period of transition; their status weakened, their welfare deteriorating from that of an organized minority to one whose existence and religious identity were threatened. In the case of the Kākāʾis, this period shows their situation is in the transmission from domestic conflict to distinctive religious identity. whereas pressure on the Bahai (whose religion had been previously banned) was relaxed somewhat, allowing them a cautions sense of new-found freedom. In the conclusion, the hypotheses of this thesis are revisited to investigate what implications the research findings may have beyond the immediate historical and socio-political context of Iraqi religious minorities. Religious minorities have endured much persecution in Monarchical Iraq and thus, it is from Monarchical Iraq that this research begins before proceeding to explore the case of the minorities in Republican Iraq. The policies of discrimination in Iraq assumed many forms such as enactments and laws or governmental or administrative acts that led to division and discrimination. Although these policies of discrimination affected all segments of Iraqi society, it was particularly detrimental to religious minorities that were already suffering at the hands of the majorities. They faced an unequalled degree of religious stigmatization and discrimination. This has created a form of shared collective memory which consists of a prevailing sense of alienation, social inequality and detrimental stereotypes that is shared by all non-Muslim minorities in Iraq. It is noteworthy that, although there was discrimination of religious minorities in Iraq, the nature of such discrimination was highly dependent on the political situation. This is because various Iraqi governments viewed the religious minorities differently and also dealt with them as such. Importantly, as this study illustrates, the religious minorities were not only affected by political currents but also by social and religious currents within Iraq. No radical change occurred in the thought and inclinations of the dominating powers, nor did such change occur within national movements which were in the position to influence both the ruling system and the state institutions. Besides, religious and sectarian belonging became a means upon which these powers relied to consolidate their power. No current or influential political party in Iraq to date has succeeded in establishing a nation state, nor has it succeeded in integrating the Iraqi communities to achieve equality in a manner which maintains the ethnic, religious and cultural variety within the country. Rather, policies of sectarianism have kept the religious minorities away from actual political participation in state institutions and in government. Such marginalization and political dysfunction could have been avoided if representation had been assured by virtue of population (i.e. the quota system) and not by political affiliation. However, as the historical eras show, the deep-rooted nature of such divisions and the lack of mutual trust between the different communities have led to the current long-endured conflict, which in turn has virtually fragmented all communities within Iraq. Against this historical backdrop of division and inequality, the sectarian and confessional issue quickly emerged in post Baʿthist Iraq. Indeed, all the unprecedented developments currently taking place in Iraq are tentativeness the result of the actions or the inaction of past regimes in Iraq. The various religious minorities in Iraq suffered systematic acts of oppression and extermination in different periods as follows. The ongoing oppression of the Jews ended with their exile from Iraq after two bouts of violent dispossession and killing referred to as the First Farhūd (1941-1952) and the Second Farhūd (1968-1973). Similarly, Christians were subjected to ongoing oppression and persecution. This began with a massacre which took place in 1933 and it continued until a second persecution after the coup of 1963. Their situation was not to improve in all of this time, 2003 when they were harshly targeted and eliminated from Iraq. The Yazidi also suffered, between 1935 and 1946 in particular and again after 1963. Their regions were divided between the province of Kurdistan and the central government of Iraq from 1991-2003. They were systematically targeted by Islamic groups, the most recent example of which is ISIS' invasion of Sinjar and the Plain of Nineveh and the act of genocide which they carried out against the Yazidi. Other minorities such as the Sabean-Mandaean, Bahaʾi, Kākāʾi and others have suffered a similar fate and are currently fleeing Iraq.

В западных академических кругах бытует представление, согласно которому решающую роль в упадке исламского мистицизма (суфизма) и его духовной практики сыграл философский суфизм крупнейшего мусульманского мыслителя Ибн 'Араби (1165-1240) и его последователей, которые в своём стремлении рационализировать суфизм с помощью своих монистических доктрин лишили исламскую мистическую традицию её изначальной сущности, которая основывалась на сугубо личном опыте мистического познания. Статья посвящена иному подходу в оценке роли Ибн 'Араби в истории суфизма. Приводятся доводы, ставящие под сомнение утверждения о связи его деятельности с ослаблением и упадком исламского мистицизма в религиозной жизни мусульман. Согласно этому подходу, кризис суфизма был вызван целым комплексом социальных, экономических, политических и идеологических факторов (модернизация и секуляризация в мусульманском мире, бюрократизация институтов суфизма и т. д.). ; Islamic mysticism (Sufism) is very complex phenomenon. It may be described in many ways. It is a main element of Islamic religion, a spiritual component of the Muslim culture, an ascetical-mystical movement, a spiritual discipline, a one of the main school of medieval Islamic philosophy, a mystical world view, a social and political organization, a form of self-expression and behavior, etc. The teaching of mystical cognition is a principal postulate of Sufi ideology that combines all tendencies within Sufism. In this respect, Sufism is Islamic mysticism, which leads to direct cognition of God beyond thought and image through purification of self and discipline. Three phases or stages of Sufism can be distinguished. The earliest form of Sufism was wide ascetic movement (in the 8th and 9th centuries). Other significant developments soon followed, including self-control, mystical insights and annihilation of the self (in the 9th and 10th centuries). During this period, two trends ("drunken" and "sober") of doctrinal Sufism emerged. The next phase in Sufi history was development of fraternal Sufi orders (11th century) and formation of philosophical Sufism embodied in Ibn 'Arabi's teaching of "waḥdat al-wujūd" (Unity of Being) (13th century). The life-giving impulse of Sufism began to weaken from the 15th century. Since the middle of the 19th century Sufism has ceased to have a serious impact on the Muslim community. Sufism today is in deep crisis. So, the question arise: why did Sufism fall into decline? The problem of understanding the real cause of Sufism's decline has become the most important one for historians of Islamic mysticism, and it has not yet found a satisfactory solution. There is a stereotype that the reason for the decline of Islamic Mysticism (Sufism) was famous medieval Islamic thinker Ibn 'Arabi (1165-1240). Ibn 'Arabi was one of the prominent and the most controversial Islamic thinker. It is generally accepted that speculative teachings of Ibn 'Arabi and his followers have led to the erosion of true Sufism. The author examines conceptual framework and essence of key principles of Ibn 'Arabi's doctrine and shows that there is no link between his intellectual activity and the decline of Sufism. The article focuses an attention on exposition of Ibn 'Arabi's doctrines in the context of the paradigm of medieval Muslim philosophical thought. An approach, which the author proposes here, is to assert that early phase of Sufism (or asceticism)) and doctrinal Sufism ("drunken" and "sober") share a common set of a problems which all generations of Sufis had to solve in order to achieve their main goal which is comprehension of Truth (God). The early phase of Sufism, or asceticism, had already been realized not only as renunciation of temporal, but also as mode of mystical knowledge. As a result of the Islamic ascetics' activity the prerequisites of the Sufi teaching of "tariqa" (Way) with the aim seeking "ḥaqiqa" (absolute truth) emerged. The driving force of Islamic Mysticism's development were attempts to solve the problem of relationship between sensible and intelligible or between unity and multiplicity (relation between God and the world) and the possibility of mystical knowledge. The prominent Sufi thinkers like 'Abu Sa'id al-Kharraz, Sahl al-Tustari, 'Abu Yazid al-Bistami, al-Junayd and others played a significant role in the formation of two trends ("drunken" and "sober") of the doctrinal Sufism. The adherents of both trends supposed that the ultimate aim can be achieved through the annihilation of the self (fanā') and dissolution in the divine reality. Al-Ghazali (d. 1111), the prominent Muslim theologian and mystic, also considered that mystical union with God or "the pure oneness [of God]" (tawhīd) is the vision of only God through annihilation of the self. Nevertheless, by 12-13 centuries Islamic mystics understood that their practices cannot help them in the realization of divine knowledge, neither ascetical discipline nor dissolution in the divine reality. During the evolution of Islamic mystical tradition, the philosophical Sufism emerged. It was most completely realized in Ibn 'Arabi' doctrine of the Oneness or Unity of Being (waḥdat al-wujūd). His philosophical innovation consists in the radical reconsideration of the view on knowledge and its subject. Other schools of medieval Islamic philosophy relied on the ontological idea that conceives the relationship between God and world as dualistic. On the contrary, the ontological ground of philosophical Sufism knowledge consists in understanding of two ontological levels of being as different aspects of one reality, not different realities. Ibn 'Arabi considers the mystical knowledge as self-knowledge of God. Man is a place of self-knowledge of God in the course of His eternal self-disclosure. Thereafter Islamic mystical tradition lost its continuity. Sufism developed into two main forms: the "practical", or the moderate and the philosophical. The adherents of the "practical" Sufism insist that mystical experience is realized by Sufi discipline (asceticism, poverty, meditation, etc.) while their opponents consider it useless. The supporters of philosophical Sufism argued that direct access to the divine reality is guaranteed by the ontological being of man. There is no evidence to support the claim that the erosion of Sufism is due to metaphysical teachings of Ibn 'Arabi and his pupils. The decline of Sufism can be explained by political, economic, social and other causes. Several factors directly and indirectly contributed to the Islamic mystical tradition crisis: bureaucratization of Sufism, modernization and secularization in the Islamic East, etc.

Why should the global community be concerned about climate change? What are the consequences of climate change? How has the clash between science and politics in the United States affected the policy debate about climate change around the world? Why has the United States failed to offer leadership on climate change? What can be done to craft a viable climate change agenda? These questions will guide the discussion below.Why should the global community be concerned about climate change?Climate change is one of the most important policy issues of the twenty-first century. It has potentially devastating consequences for the global environment. It is a transnational challenge that has social, political, and economic implications for the entire international community. During the first ten years of the twenty-first century, we have experienced the warmest years in modern climate history. This same decade has been characterized as one of the warmest on record. Although the scientific community has raised serious concerns about climate change, this global environmental phenomenon has not received the same kind of responsesuch as aPearl Harbor in 1941 or a 9/11 in New York City in 2001 that rallied U.S. citizens and the U.S. government to action.The political conflict over climate change within and between countries, especially in the United States, has demonstrated three important aspects about this issue. First, it shows how the clash between science and politics delays action. Second, it demonstrates how ideology and entrenched economic interests can trump the research findings of the scientific community. Third, it makes clear that rather than offering leadership, the U.S. has assumed the role of a laggard on the issue of climate change.What are the consequences of climate change? We are beyond the point of framing the issue of climate change as a "debate." There is no debate. As we have learned from the scientific community as reflected by the research of the Intergovernmental Panel Climate Change in its 4th (2007) and 5th (2013) reports, climate change is occurring and human activities are a major contributor to the problem, especially the burning of fossil fuels. Global reinsurance companies including Munich Re, Swiss Re, and Lloyds of London have raised serious concerns about the prospects of a warming planet and the impact on the global insurance industry. In the United States, for instance, the consequences of climate change is forcing domestic insurance companies including MetLife, State Farm, Allstate, and American International Group to reconsider their coverage of commercial and residential properties in coastal zones. To be candid and frank, global and nationally-based insurance companies are well aware of the impact of human-induced climate change. A sample of the consequences of climate change can be described as follows.First, carbon dioxide, one of the primary greenhouse gases associated with climate change, has been absorbed into the atmosphere, terrestrial areas, and the oceans. The oceans, in particular, face a serious threat in terms of marine life, the fishing industry, coral reefs, and increased acidification. Second, with the melting of the polar caps, a warming planet is already resulting in rising seas around the globe. For instance, the states on the East and Gulf coasts of the United States are being challenged to establish viable adaption strategies to address rising seas. At the same time, some coastal areas are dealing with the twin threats of rising seas and sinking lands (i.e., subsidence). Moreover, sea level rise is not consistent around the globe, but rather, it is characterized by its variation. In other words, we see differential impacts facing some coastal areas (e.g., Bangladesh) compared to other coastal regions. Third, a warming planet and especially warmer seas will create an environment of more ferocious hurricanes. For instance, scientists at the 2007 International Summit on Global Warming, Climate Change, and Hurricanes were less concerned about the frequency of hurricanes and were increasingly concerned about the destructiveness of Katrina-like tropical cyclones around the globe. Fourth, an increasingly important aspect of this global environmental phenomenon is the impact of climate change on public health. One aspect of this concern involves an increase in water-borne diseases such as malaria and dengue fever due to the warming of the planet.How has the clash between science and politics in the United States affected the policy debate about climate change?The political response of the U.S. to climate change has been influenced bythe conflict taking place between the scientific community and a variety of partisans within the country.On the one hand, from the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, from the Pew Center for Global Climate Change to the Environmental Protection Agency, from the World Meteorological Organization to the vast majority of climate scientists, we have learned that this global environmental phenomenon is clearly due to human actions. On the other hand, a variety of individuals and groups including members of the U.S. Congressto media celebritiesto organized interests (e.g., the fossil fuel industry) have been successful in opposing U.S. action on climate change. For instance, James Inhofe, Republican Senator representing the state of Oklahoma has been at the forefront of opposing federal and state actions in response to climate change. As a matter of fact, where Inhofe went so far as to say that climate change is the "greatest hoax ever perpetrated on the American public,"conservative radio show host, Rush Limbaugh, stated that the "anti-global warmers have to go out there and get their own science to counter the science that the pro-global warming crowd is using, and they're making it up." In short, the clash between science and politics in the U.S. over climate change clearly shows the power of entrenched domestic interests and their impact on policy making.During the 1990s, a variety of industries including fossil fuels, automotive, manufacturing among others created the Global Climate Coalition to oppose efforts to respond to climate change.This coalition eventually collapsed as various industries withdrew from it. Another example of opposition to action on climate change is the Heritage Foundation, a think tank that published articles in opposition to federal action on climate change. It is important to note that underlying the actions of deniers of human-induced climate change has been their position that government regulations imposed on business and industry would be harmful to U.S. jobs and trade competitiveness. The veracity of this concern, however, has yet to be realized. Moreover, this argument set forth by the deniers overlooks the growth in green jobs and the benefits of a clean energy agenda.Why has the United States failed to offer leadership on climate change? Until recently, the United States was the number one producer of the greenhouse gases that contribute to climate change. Notwithstanding China's recent emergence as the largest producer of greenhouse gases, the U.S. remains a key player in greenhouse gas production and it remains a laggard in taking action to reduce greenhouse gases. We now turn our attention to the role of five key players in the U.S. political system.As far as modern U.S. presidents are concerned, where Ronald Reagan ignored the issue of climate change during the 1980s leading up to the Earth Summit in 1992, George H. W. Bush, facing pressure at home, opposed mandatory guidelines and timetables that emerged from the Earth Summit and used his influence to change the requirements to voluntary efforts on the part of industry. Having said this, the fact that Bush signed the climate change treaty lent legitimacy to the issue. Bill Clinton and his environmental Vice President Al Gore attempted to push a climate change agenda but ran into strong opposition from the U.S. Congress. Two months into his presidency, George W. Bush rejected the Kyoto Protocol arguing that it would hurt the U.S. economy and jobs.The U.S. Congress has been a major obstacle in responding to climate change.During the 1990s until the present time, Congressional Republicans held a majority during the administrations of Clinton and Bush, the son, and have controlled the House of Representatives during the Obama administration. Congressional Republicans, along with Democrats representing energy-intensive states, have opposed action on climate change.In a move that surprised many observers of American politics, the Supreme Court,the highest court in the U.S.,ruled in 2007 that the Environmental Protection Action, under the authority of the Clean Air Act, had a responsibility to regulate greenhouse gas emissions to protect public health and the environment. However, the Republican-controlled House of Representatives has usedits resources to thwart action on the part of the EPA to regulate greenhouse gas emissions.One aspect of American politics that has offered hope for a clean energy future has been the importance of federalism where a growing number of states have taken actions alone and in concert with other states to reduce greenhouse gas emissions.Moreover, several coalitions of U.S. states have joined with Canadian provinces in these efforts. In short, numerous states in the U.S. are taking action in response to climate change because of the failure of the U.S. federal government to act.What can be done to craft a viable climate change agenda? Climate change is a transnational, environmental problem that poses serious challenges to the entire international community. The U.S. must join with the developed countries of the EU in an effort to reduce greenhouse gas emissions and work on viable adaption strategies. However, the U.S. will first have to deal with domestic forces at home (e.g., entrenched economic interests and ideological opponents) that exercise power in opposition to federal action on climate change. At the same time, incentives will have to be employed in order to encourage newly modernizing nations (e.g., China, India, Brazil among others) to join with the U.S. and members of the EU to work together to establish a clean energy future. Sobre el autorProfessor of Political ScienceOld Dominion UniversityNorfolk, Virginia USA

MARCH, J900 Qettysbur Mercury CONTENTS. The Power of Ignorance, 1 Remembrance, 8 The Death of King Solomon 8 The Uses of Dreams,. 13 Editor's Desk, 17 A Word Deserved, 18 Meeting of The Pennsylvania College Alumni Association of Harrisburg, 19 The Veil of Separation 20 The Dead on Expansion, 21 The Old Chief and The Black-smith, 22 Why We Broke Camp, 27 At The Breakfast Table 30 GETTYSBURG COLLEGE LIBRARY .GETTYSBU^!§bRG C DUPLiCfA'. i FAVOR THOSE WHO FAVOR US. For Fine. Printing go to CARLISLE ST. GETTYSBURG, PA. C. B. Kitzmiller Dealer in Hats, Caps, Boots and . Douglas Shoes GETTYSBURG, PA. Have you an assured -&&& R. I. ELLIOTT Dealer in Hats, Caps, Shoes and. Gents' Furnishing Goods Corner Center Square and Carlisle Street GETTYSBURG, PA. EDGAR S. MARTIN, F^CIGARS AND SMOKERS' ARTICLES. %/& tgr? Mr* Chambersburg St., Gettysburg. 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The title of this book is "How to Prepare i'or a Civil Service Examination ; U Hh Recent Questions and An- , swers." It contains all Information which any candidate would require to firepare for any competitive office under he Government, and includes a "Ten weeks1 Course of Study,"ln the form of questions actually asked at recent ex-aminations, with the correct answers to , them. Besides the technical require- ' menta. It also covers all the elementary branches, like arithmetic, spelling, pen- | manship, geography, letter writing, civil government, etc., etc., so that one who masters this course of study would not only pass well an examination for o, yov- , ernment position, but would be cure of I preferment over other applicants for a clerkship in a business house. CLOTH—$2.00 Postpaid—560 PAGES Another booJciree(Quick atFigures)if you mention this paper when ordering. mros & NOBLE, Publishers ' 4-6-13-14 Cooper Institute, N. Y. City SchoolbooTcs ofall publishersat one store .THE. GETTYSBURG MERCURY. VOL. IX. GETTYSBURG, PA., MARCH, 1900. No. 1 THE POWER OP IGINORAINCE. [ABSTRACT OF A LECTURE BEFORE THE TEACHERS' INSTITUTE, JANUARY 27TH, BY PROF. O. G. KLINGER.] I AM here to engage your attention for a little while in a sub-ject which is too seldom considered, but rich in educational value. It is the " Power of Ignorance." We often hear of the power of knowledge—it has been the pet theme of platform speakers for many generations ; but who has stopped to consider the power of the unformed intellect, or of the intellect developed but dominated by some blinding prejudice, or pride of opinion ? And yet Ignorance has played as mighty a part in the world's drama as Knowledge. All the domain which Knowledge calls her own has been wrested from Ignorance. Ignorance, dark, gloomy, superstitious, destructive, first; knowledge second—at the beginning a glimmer, a mere insight, a guess, and then a growing light—at the present a great luminary, an hour above the horizon. All that makes our nineteenth century habitable for men and women, such as you, is the product of advancing science. No other age has been so great as our age, because Knowledge has stricken off the shackles of superstition, shaken the obstinacy of bigotry, deepened the sympathies, augmented the value of human life, converted the forces of nature into servants, established the dignity of self-hood, brought freedom to light, conquered the ocean and annihilated space. Her advance has been in the face of Ignorance, which at each moment has con-tested with pen and fire and sword her progress. My object this evening will be to set forth as clearly as I may be able the power of this antagonist of knowledge, that in the light of it you may see more clearly the sanctity of freedom of research, freedom of thought, and freedom of speech. QETTYSBU*G COLLEGE LIBRARY GETTYSBURG, PA^ THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Remember, that knowledge is power only when it informs some human will, and directs some human choice. Knowledge concealed within the lids of books is not power—it is so much waste paper so far as the world's progress is concerned. It must possess the mind, illumine the intellect, impel the will in its choices, and become a human force. And by ignorance I mean the mind that is not informed, a will that makes its choices in the dark ; a htiman force without direction. But this is not the only kind of ignorance. It has happened in the world's history that men and nations of large culture have been so dominated by pre-judice, by pride of opinion, by love of party, by bigotry, as to avert from themselves the best blessings which the merciful Father had designed for them. There are wise fools in the world as well as dullones, and bigotry, which is but a form of ignorance, has been a great obstacle in the path of progress. Our thought must search for its illustrations in the cabinet of History, and they will not be difficult to find. Every page is re-plete with them. We take those that strike the eye first, because of their magnitude—conspicuous examples of the blighting effects of gross ignorance, and the more refined but less hopeful bigotry. I refer to the Barbarian invasion of Rome, the fall of Alexandria, the massacre of St. Bartholomew, and England's loss of her American Colonies. The tidal wave of ancient civilization, which took its rise in Egypt and the Mesopotamia, never flowed farther north than the Black Sea, the Carpathian mountains, and the Rhine river. Be-yond these boundaries lay in dark obscurity the terra incognita. Of this whole, vast, indefinite stretch the ancients had only the most meagre information, and they peopled it with the most hor-rible, most fantastic creatures of the imagination, as children fill the dark with hobgoblins and spooks. And as though their fears had been prophetic, out of this very region were to come the forces which would overturn their government, raze their cities, crush their pride, and extinguish their culture. The old civilization reached its maximum development in Greece and Rome—the former leading and the latter following in the sequence of history. In Greece it was expressed in a litera-ture and art the most perfect the world has ever enjoyed ; in Rome it took the form of an architecture, " full of expression of gigantic power and strength of will." The former gave to the THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. world the Parthenon ; the latter the Coliseum. The former fur-nished ideals of the beautiful; the latter ideals of social order. Greece has since been the teacher of all that pertains to the aesthetic nature ; Rome of all that pertains to government and jurisprudence. ?j£ ?|s *f% yf* 5|* 'J^ *f* *"p While Greece was achieving her greatest triumph—while adorning her cities with the most exquisite art, perfecting her language, and evolving her beautiful philosophy ; while Rome was rearing triumphal arches, sending nation after nation under the yoke, and welding together the whole civilized world into one massive empire—up in this region of the north there was a strange restlessness, of which the southern nations never dreamed, but which forbode for them the most direful consequences. A dreary stretch of forest, reaching from the Rhine to the North Sea, unbroken save here and there by patches of cultivated land—a wilderness of mighty trees, which bowed their heads be-fore the Blusterer of the north, or sank beneath the weight of years, but at whose root the woodman's axe was seldom laid— whose deep recesses furnished safe retreats for bear and the wild-boar— such was Europe in the third century Anno Domini when the Goths first emerged from its retreats and stood upon the banks of the Danube. Great people they were, tall and massive of shoulder, with great swelling muscles—a giant each one, whose tawny hair, reaching to the shoulder, was his especial pride. From under shaggy eye-brows gleamed eyes which seemed cut out of blue Arctic ice, reflecting every flash of passion, and terrible when lit up with the rage of battle. Great animals, with the germ in them of great souls, true to their word, loathing nothing so much as shame and cowardice, with heart attuned to carnage, afraid to die elsewhere than on the battlefield—whose Heaven even was a Val-halla of eternal conflict—such were the Goths. Beyond them towards the east dwelt the Huns, a Tartar tribe. Let Gibbon describe them : '' These savages of Scythia were com-pared to the animals which walk very awkwardly on two legs. They were distinguished from the rest of the human species by their broad shoulders, flat noses, and small black eyes, deeply buried in the head ; and as they were almost destitute of beards, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. they never enjoyed either the manly grace of youth or the vener-able aspect of age." To render them more hideous still, while they were yet of tender age their parents gashed their cheeks with knives that their faces might look more ferocious with the ugly scars. They were so constantly on horseback that their legs received the curve of the horse's body. Their hideous appear-ance was a true index of their character—ruthless, lustful; they struck terror into the hearts of their enemies on the field of battle. Beyond them dwelt another tribe of people, of whose origin we know nothing, and of whose character we know little. The Sienpi were the natural enemies of the Huns, into whose terri-tory they made frequent incursions. Brave and savage, skilled in the use of such weapons as they had, they were able to chill with terror even the hearts of such creatures as the Huns. It is probable that under the pressure of these implacable foes the Huns migrated from their ancient seats, near the Chinese Empire, towards the west. Their coming in countless hordes was an astonishment to the valiant Goths, who trembled before their uncouth enemies and retreated before their onslaught. Thus it happened that in the fourth century of our era, the Goths suddenly appeared upon the banks of the Danube and besought a refuge within the bounds of the Roman Empire. Their petition was at length granted, and the fate of the South was sealed. At once, on the death of the great Theodosius, occurred the revolt of the Gothic tribes. Under the leadership of Alaric, after various vicissitudes, they traversed the country from the Danube southward and sought a rich harvest of fame and treasure in the fair land of Greece. Passing, without opposition, through the pass of Thermopylae, they ravaged the whole country to the plains of Sparta. *A* *A* *1* *±* *1^ *Jf* ^^ *^ *f* ^ *j* *r» *T* *T* *r* 'T* You have read of, even if you have never seen, the devas-tating power of the cyclone. The sun rises upon a stretch of prairie, beautiful with swaying grain, and dotted with towns and villages. The sky overhead is flecked with shredded clouds, which reflect and refract the sun's rays—distant prisms of hazy texture. Suddenly from out the sky, with scarcely a moment's warning, comes a mighty shadow. Your ear is startled by the deep bellowing of winds as they struggle in the upper air. Dower THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. and lower they force each other in their whirling conflict. The one from the west hurls back the one from the east, and, with in-conceivable rapidity, the storm-cloud, lightning-riven, skims the earth. You know the rest. The sun sets at evening upon a blighted land, filled with ruin and death. \1A *JJ «X* *.IA »L* *±? ^f *!_.* if* if* *f* ^f* *J* ^T* *J* 'I* The passing of Alaric and his Goths left Greece stripped of her beauty ; her temples lying in ruins; her sculpture broken and stripped of its golden plates ; her towns and villages a mass of burning embers. '' The whole territory of Attica, from the prom-ontory of Sunium to the town of Megara was blasted by his baleful presence ; and, if we may use the comparison of a contem-porary philosopher, Athens itself resembled the bleeding and empty skin of a slaughtered victim." The cyclone of ignorance has passed, and what the centuries had achieved of all that ap-peals to the aesthetic nature was in a day destroyed by the barba-rians, whose natures were insensible to the allurements of beauty, except as it was expressed in the grace and symmetry of the female form. Alexandria, founded at the mouth of the Nile by Alexander the Great, and coming under the sovereignty of Ptolemy Soter, and afterwards of his son, Philadelphus, became under their fostering care, and by reason of its location, the foremost city of its day, and the real center of the Hellenistic world. It was from her that the Romans received the Greek civilization, which wrought such a miracle among them ; from her that the literary and artistic in-fluences went forth to mold the taste of Europe ; it was in her that poets and critics wrote and labored in the Hellenistic period. For the Ptolemies were patrons of art and literature, and invited to their court the learned from all parts of the world. To facili-tate research, a great museum, similar in character to our modern university, and a great library were established. Here were gath-ered the manuscripts of all the Hellenic writers, great and small. These the scholars of Alexandria, from the third century B.C. downward, sifted, preserving what was of value and destroying what was worthless. The works of the great thinkers, from Homer to Demosthenes, were edited, and their scholia form the foundations of all modern critical study. This happy state of things continued until the time of Bishop THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Theophilus, " the perpetual enemy of peace and virtue ; a bold, bad man, whose hands were alternately polluted with gold and blood." This narrow-minded bigot, caring only for power, knowing little of the glory of Greek literature, and caring less, pillaged the library, destroyed the compositions of ancient genius, and forever impoverished the world of scholarship. " Nearly twenty years afterwards, the appearance of the empty shelves ex-cited the regret and indignation of every spectator whose mind was not totally darkened by religious prejudice." Nor did the exquisite art which adorned the streets, as well as temples and private homes, suffer a less bitter fate. Images of gold and silver were melted, and those of inferior material were broken to bits and cast into the streets. Thus could religious fanaticism, inflaming the heart of an unscrupulous, ecclesiastical politician, and blinding his eyes to the enormity of his crime, subvert and destroy in a few hours what scholarship had accumu-lated during six centuries of labor. *J* 5JC ftfi *jC *fs 3j£ ?JC 5JC The darkest page in the history of France is that which re-cords the power and influence of the Guises. Hand in hand with the Queen-mother, Catherine de Medici, they labored for the ex-termination of the Huguenots. To trace here the intricate schemes, the diabolical plottings, the attempts at assassination, the submission of truth and honor to accomplish their design, would require too great a space. After unwearying effort, con-tinued through several years, they at length succeeded in winning the King's reluctant consent to the massacre of St. Bartholomew. At a given signal, in the early morning, the work of destruction began with the murder of Coligni, and when it ceased three days later, fully thirty thousand Huguenots had miserably perished at the hands of the Catholics. The persecution of the Protestants of France continued with varying degrees of savage intensity until the time of Louis XIV. This monarch, when old, was tormented by the memory of his many evil deeds, and sought some way in which he might atone for them before Almighty God. That way was suggested by his Queen, Madame de Maintenon. In pursuance of her awful plan, L,ouis revoked the Edict of Nantes, and outlawed every Huguenot who refused to embrace the Catholic faith. By this act of religious bigotry '' fully three hundred thousand of the most THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. skillful and industrious of the subjects of Louis were driven out of the kingdom. Several of the most important and flourishing of the French industries were ruined, while the manufacturing interests of other countries were correspondingly benefited by the energy, skill and capital which the exiles carried with them." Many of them found their way to America, and their descendants have been among our most distinguished citizens. It is hardly too much to say that France has never recovered fully from the disastrous effects of Iyouis' infamous policy. *(£ 5jC 5|C ^|C 5J» *j£ *(> *1^ In the history of the world it has never been the privilege of any other nation to have such colonial possessions as had England in the New World. Her government of the colonies was one colossal blunder from the beginning, but it remained for the ob-stinacy of George the Third to alienate them wholly and convert them into "a government of the people, by the people and for the people." " He had," says Green, " a smaller mind than any English king before him, save James the Second. He was wretchedly educated, and his natural powers were of the meanest sort.'' He had but one idea—to embody in himself all the powers of the government. " Be a king, George," had been the contin-ually repeated exhortation of his mother from his early youth, and to be a king George thought he must be a tyrant. The story of his tyrannical acts which before twenty years had passed by had driven the American colonies into revolution and independence, and brought England to the verge of ruin, is known to every schoolboy, and would be a twice-told tale if repeated before this audience. L,et it suffice that we in America owe the government, of which we are so proud, to the conceit of one who was the most conspicuous failure that ever disgraced the English throne—to him we owe all, but for it all owe him no thanks. *«i* xL* *1* ^U -J-* *£* •& ^S ^^ *X* *T* *T* *T* *T* I am done. My effort has been to suggest to you the de-structive and pernicious power of ignorance in some of its most common forms. In spite of advancing science, superstition and bigotry and fanaticism still persist, though happily their power is limited in our day to the pen. Our eye is set on that day, no longer far removed, when freedom of thought and speech shall no longer be challenged; when the minds of scholars shall be free from prejudice; when the common man of our land, as in ancient 8 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Greece, shall be able to appreciate arid to enjoy the finest art and literature; when in the workshop and on the farm, at the anvil and before the mast, we shall have men who think. The dawn has already broken; the full day will come in its own good time. REMEMBRANCE, If, perchance, in days to come, A truant thought strays back to me, Pray, believe the kindest ones In turn, are entertained of thee. As the sands along- the shore, To-day are thrown upon the beach, And to-morrow waves return To hurl them far beyond our reach; So the friends of yesterday, The ones we always held so dear, Quietly vanish from our sight, And leave us waiting, lonely here. —B. THE DEATH OF KING SOLOMON. THE king paused in his walk and, leaning against one of the tall pillars of the porch of the palace, gazed long at the flashing glory of the temple which rested like a diadem upon the brow of Mount Moriah. The sun had set ablaze the towering pinnacles of the building, and the burnished gold burned and flashed in the red rays of the setting sun. Already the purple shadows were creeping between the columns, and as the king gazed his face was exceeding sad and the shadows on his brow were deep as those between the columns. His waving hair was whitened by the frosts of three score winters. His eyes had not lost their piercing gaze, but his forehead was furrowed by care and his face had much of the sadness which too much self-indul-gence and the too familiar knowledge of the heartless world en-gender. His cheekbones were high and his chin rather promi-nent. The very spirit of majestic command seemed expressed in all his features. Yet withal, there could be traced about the mouth and eyes those delicate markings which are the imprint of a kindly, generous nature, and which contradicted the cynical THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. expression which sometimes swept like the hand of a demon across his features. In his eyes and towering forehead there was a suggestion of that gigantic intellect which had grappled with all the problems of the universe. Kindly, just and God-fearing, yet self-indulgent, and led astray in his quest of happiness, the sadness which burdened his great soul was mirrored in his coun-tenance. Solomon, the mighty ruler, the matchless judge, the wisest scholar, the profouudcst philosopher and the learned psy-chologist— this Solomon, was old, and weary, and brokenhearted, troubled by the disasters to his great empire, which he foresaw, sad at the thought of many wasted years. As the sun sank below the horizon, he turned away from the temple and cast a momentary glance at the magnificence about him ; then with a gesture of contempt, he walked slowly into the cool, shadowy gardens of his palace. Long but slowly he paced among the shadowy paths, engaged in profound thought. It seemed as if his God, with whom he had once walked very inti-mately, granted him a knowledge of the close approach of death ; for suddenly he straightened his stooping shoulders and lifting his hand beneath a light where the gesture might be seen, he summoned the ever alert attendants. It was the king's will that the court be summoned. Swift runners sped from palace to palace in luxurious Jerusalem. Lords and courtiers rose from banqueting tables and hastened, wonder-ing, toward the palace. For had they not been summoned by the royal word ? And who in all the land might delay when King Solomon called? Surely, none. The great hall of justice was ablaze with light. Throngs of whispering nobles were the evidence of surprise at this night summons. Suddenly all were hushed. The heavy curtains at the royal entrance had been held aside and now the solitary figure of the king moved past the kneeling nobles to the great throne of ivory and gold. The king took his seat between the huge, crouching, golden lions and looked awhile in silence from one face to another. Some were old and tried friends and counsellors who had been with him when as a young man he had received the sceptre from the hand of Israel's God and his father, the royal David. Others were younger, and as his eye glanced from one to another, he thought of their fathers, some of whom were mighty warriors, others wise counsellors. IO THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. At length bespoke: "Oh Nobles, I have summoned you hither this night, at this unaccustomed hour, to bid you farewell. This evening, for the last time, I saw the red light of the depart-ing sun kiss the house of our God, resting upon it like a beuison from the Most High. "I go unto my fathers. To-night, ere the first rays of the morning sun laugh on the waters of Jordan and wake our queenly city from her slumbers, I go on the last, long journey. I am old and very weary of life, and I go to the grave, whither ye all are hastening. '' Oh Nobles—Counsellors and Warriors—ye whose heads are hoar, and who follow me soon, long have we labored together for beloved Israel. Some, perchance, even knew my father, David. Oh, grey-heads ! your king loves you. " And ye, whose raven locks the frosts of many winters may yet whiten, sons of mighty men, my young men, your king loves you not less. Be ye faithful as your fathers to the God of Israel and your king. " Ye have seen my race, which now is nearly run. To the dominions of my father I have added, and have made Israel ex-ceeding strong and mighty. Ye, too, saw me turn aside from following after Jehovah. Ye know the punishment—how I must have this fair kingdom rent and torn from me. But know that the God of Israel, in his measureless kindness and mercy, which are even as the fathomless space of the whirling orbs, has par-doned my transgression and forgiven my sin. " Now the hour is come and your king goes to the court of the Ruler of the universe. My nobles—counsellors, warriors and statesmen—remember your love for Solomon and stand faithful. Turn ye not aside after riches and honor. 'A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold. The rich and poor meet together; the Lord is the maker of them all. A good name is better than precious ointment; and the day of death than the day of one's birth.' " 'Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man. For God shall bring every work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be good or whether it be evil.' " But the night flees and my strength fails. This night, ere the rosy morning descends from the hills and touches the purple vineyards, I will to be borne to my palace which is beyond Giloh. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. II For, oh Nobles, know that a weary old man wishes, in his weak-ness, to look once more upon his pleasant palace which gleams in its whiteness, amid the green gardens, and from there be gathered unto his fathers. ' Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was, and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.' " And now, fare ye well, my Lords ; may the mighty God of Israel be with you. Oh my children, a long farewell." The king stood for a moment with hands outstretched in bless-ing over the silent, awe-struck nobles, then moved with calm and composed step down from the throne at whose base the world had bowed. He gazed a moment longer at the assemblage of grey-headed men, who were separate ; then with a last majestic wave of the hand he passed from the judgment hall and the sight of his nobles forever. He hastened to his waiting chariot and was borne slowly along the road which leads to Hebron. His palace and gardens, with their pools which lay like three turquoise amid a sea of emerald, were his destination. Only once did the king rouse himself from the reverie into which he had fallen. As the white splendor of Jerusalem, bathed in the tropic full-moon, was disappearing behind him, he stood up in the rocking chariot, and with a gesture of matchless dignity, bade a last adieu to his queenly capital. Then he lapsed again into reverie. And of what did he dream? Who can say? Perchance it was of the future, per-chance of the past. Of that past when he ruled at Jerusalem, while the wealth of the world was poured in front of the lions of his ivory throne. The memories of a sacred and glorious past must have thronged upon him. Along this very road the mighty David passed and repassed. Here he had kept his father's flocks as a youth. Back and forth in this vicinity the jealous Saul had hunted him. Yonder, in the velvetry blackness, sleeps Rachel, the beloved of Jacob. There, alone, through the centuries, her ashes rest. A little farther on, at Giloh, the house of Ahithophel, the faithful counsellor of David, suggests its train of memories ; or perhaps some glorious vision of this plain, as it was destined tq appear, bathed in glittering light and echoing to the " Glory, in the Highest" of the angels, may have been vouchsafed to this son of David. And now, beyond Giloh, the chariot approaches the palace, 12 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. in the midst of its gardens. The weary old monarch steps from his chariot as he has done so often before at this spot. Hither, in the past, he has come in the dewey morning to find rest and quiet. And now, in the evening of his life, the king comes to his beautiful gardens to die. How the heart of that mighty ruler must have grieved as he looked back over the desolate years of which he had exclaimed "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity!" Slowly the king passes between the sculptured columns of his marble palace which rise, slender and graceful, to the distant roof swimming in dusky shadow; on between the two statuesque guards in their golden armor ; on, into the palace with its purple velvets and its tapestries. Fountains murmur and tinkle about him ; rare birds, strange beasts, gathered from the four corners of the world for the pleasure of this mighty potentate, are all around him. The mingled odors of many flowers float to his nostrils. But they are all unnoticed. In sad and solemn quiet the king paces slowly to his chamber. It has been whispered that the king wishes quiet and to be left alone, and the palace which in the years of the past has been filled with music and oftentimes with the sounds of revelry, seems to be without human inhabitant, and as silent as some great, white mausoleum. Only once, at the break of day, the attendants steal to the chamber of the king, and behold his form outstretched upon the couch, then as if terrified by the sight of the angel of death hovering over the king, they disappear. So, not surrounded by the nobles of the land or by sorrowing dear ones, but alone, the spirit of King Solomon stands on the •brink of the dark waters of the river of death and awaits the sum-mons of the most high God. Thus, while in communion with Jehovah, his spirit unterrified by the approach of death, is con-ducted into the council-chamber of the universe. And Israel's greatest king is dead. For "God's finger touched him," and even as the stars began to fade the mighty spirit of King Solomon had winged its flight into the unknown. Once more the lord of day ascends the dark mountains of Moab, and gleams upon the white palace which rests on the crest of a hill amid its green gardens like the white foam upon the crest of some dark-green wave of the ocean. In this palace, designed only for pleasure and joy, there is sadness and gloom. But the features of the king are tranquil and placid in death. Fven as at THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 13 evening the setting sun may break through the clouds and shine over the gray ocean, soothing the tired waters to rest, so now the morning sun lights up the countenance of the king and shows the perfect peace which has taken the place of the sadness and trouble. Amid the grief of a nation the king has gone to his last, long rest. —Max. THE USES OF DREAMS. C. L. '01. IT may be of interest to note at the outset some of the physical and the psychological phenomena of dreams. " A dream is a train of thought, images or phantasies, that passes through the mind in sleep.'' In dreams we lose all voluntary control over our thoughts, and our minds are, as it were, freed from all re-straints, turned out of the boundaries set by will, and left to roam at pleasure through almost infinite areas of thought and imagina-tion. Some claim that the activity of the soul does not cease for a single moment, and that dreams are one of the results of this constant activity. Others affirm, with equal certainty, that the soul has periods of inactivity and rest, when our sleep is entirely devoid of dreams. But does it not seem more reasonable that we forget our dreams, or rather fail to recollect them ? It is true, of course, that the action of the soul during the hours of slumber is much more feeble than during waking hours, but even this statement cannot be made without exception. Un-doubtedly the imagination is, at times, more lively in sleep than at any other time. A person, whose imagination is notably dull and lifeless, can, oftentimes, especially when just lapsing into un-consciousness, picture before his mind the most lovely, Edenic bowers, fairy landscapes, and scenic views that divest even Alpine glories of their rapturous charms. Occasionally the mind is very active also during periods of somnolence. This is proved by the fact that mathematicians, after having worked for days and weeks, perhaps, on a difficult problem, have finally solved it while wrapped in sleep. Again many persons of small originality and creative genius have composed poems of a merit that would have justly surprised them when awake, and have preached sermons and delivered lectures to enraptured audiences. Some persons of little or no musical ability have in their dreams outrivaled Mozart 14 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. and Beethooven in their musical productions, and their render-ing of them, and surpassed Jenny Lind and Patti in their vocal successes. The idea that the ancients had of dreams was vastly different from that which prevails at present. When superstition and witchcraft were fastened to everybody's creed, when ghosts stalked to and fro in every graveyard and haunted the scene of every murder, when enchanting sprites, bewitching elves, and diabolical imps jostled each other in the minds of nobleman and peasant, a dream was thought to be something of great import-ance and of good or evil omen. As each succeeding age has broken one or more of the super-stitious fetters with which it was bound and has approached nature and nature's God, and looked at nature not as a blind in-congruous force, but as an orderly and harmonious creation, evil has been traced to its source and found to consist not in the un-accountable and uncontrollable flights of a fanciful imagination, but in natural laws that have been violated or broken. This contrast may be explained by the difference between ancient and modern philosophy in accounting for the origin of evil. In Homer the thought is often emphasized that " Dreams come from Zeus," and a dream often meant as much as the flight of birds or the con-dition of the inspected vitals. The undertaking of an important expedition or of a desperate conflict often turned upon a dream of an officer during the preceding night, and many an unsuc-cessful exploit or disastrous defeat was traced to an ill-omened dream. Just after the expedition of " The Ten Thousand Im-mortals " had started on its perilous journey toward the capital of " The Great King," Xenophon, the leader of the expedition, had a dream in which, in the midst of a terrific thunder storm, he saw a ball of lightning fall upon his father's house, enveloping it in flames. The report following the bolt waked him. He considered the dream favorable because it seemed to be a token sent from Zeus, the author of dreams. On the other hand it seemed like an evil omen in that it might be interpreted that the " Immortals " were to be surrounded by the barbarian hordes as the house had been by the flames. No doubt the wretched failure of the expedition was largely accounted for by the commander's dream. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 15 Possibly no other book is so replete with stories of dreams as the Bible. It is reasonable to suppose that before the dawning of the " New Dispensation " divine communications were often sent to mortals through the media of dreams. Joseph's dreams seemed to his jealous brothers, and also to his devoted father, to be a mere idle, if not presumptuous, fancy of superiority over them. His brothers hated him because of their own interpreta-tion of his dreams. They were unable to free their minds of the unpleasant prophesies which they thought the dreams contained, so they cast him in a pit at Dothan, and then, as if to make more sure against the dreams' fulfillment they bartered him off to an Egypt-bound caravan of Ishmaelites. This " Dreamer " in-terpreted his own dream, and his brorhers were, afterwards, only too glad to make obeisance to his fruitful sheaf. Passing by many significant dreams, let us notice the dream which came to Joseph, husband of Man', the mother of Jesus. He was warned in a dream not to remain in Judea, but "to take the young child and his mother and flee into Egypt." Upon the prompt obedience to this dream depended the life of the infant Jesus. Had Pilate heeded the warning of his wife's dream, he would not have delivered up Jesus to be crucified. In these in-stances dreams seemed to be angelic messengers from God with important dispatches. We recall the dream of the late, venerable Dr. A. J. Gordon, pastor of the Clarendon Street Baptist Church, Boston, which in-spired him to write that popular book, "How Christ Came to Church." In his preface the author states that he is not so sup-erstitious as to believe that every dream has a good or a bad meaning, but he believes, as in his own dream, we may learn val-uable lessons and receive wonderful inspiration even from dreams. Indeed, there are many cases on record where a dream has in-spired the mind to accomplish a skillful and even a masterful fete. Coleridge's " Kubla Khan" was suggested to him by a dream while he sat napping in his chair. Upon awaking, he seized his pen and wrote from memory that composition. The great musician, Tartani, composed his famous "Devil's Sonata" under the influence of a dream, in which his Satanic Majesty en-chanted Tartani by his wonderful exhibition of skill upon the violin, and challenged the dreamer to a match. As soon as Tar- i6 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. tani awoke he took up his violin and composed, in answer to the challenge, the above named composition. In the time of Shakespeare dreams were often misunderstood, and one of the most unpleasant aspects of death was the frightful dreams which were thought to accompany it. In Hamlet's So-liloquy on Death, when contemplating suicide, the " dread of something after death"—harrowing dreams, prevents him from becoming his own murderer. "To die,—to sleep ; To sleep ! perchance to dream /—ay, there's the rub ; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause." It is the thought of these fearful dreams that makes him decide to bear " Those ills we have Than fly to others that we know not of." We owe a debt of gratitude to those promoters of civilization which have unveiled to us those harmless forces which were for centuries enshrouded in an awful mysticism. We recognize that dreams are simply the production of an unbridled fancy, of an imagination uncurbed by will, the "reflections of our waking thoughts." We no longer believe that to dream of gold is good luck, and to dream of silver, bad luck. We reply to such a thought the words of the proverb, " It is as idle as a dream.'' We sometimes gain some inspiration and profit from dreams, but we do not invest them with power to bring us either ill or harm. We see in them a proof of our immortality, and often associate them with our condition after death, but in no terrifying way, and as far as disturbing dreams are concerned, we may meet our death " Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams." .THE. GETTYSBURG MERCURY. Entered at the Postojice at Gettysburg as second-class matter. Voi,. IX. GETTYSBURG, PA., MARCH, 1900. No. 1 Editor-in- Chief, . A. VAN ORMER, '01. Assistant Editors, W. H. HETRICK, W. A. KOHLER. Business Manager, H. C. HOFFMAN. Alumni Editor, REV. F. D. GARLAND. Assistant Business Manager, WILLIAM C. NEY. Advisory Board, PROF. J. A. HIMES, LIT. D. PROF. G. D. STAHLEY, M.D. PROF. J. W. RICHARD, D. D. Published monthly by the students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg-) College. Subscription price, One Dollar a year in advance; single copies Ten Cents. Notice to discontinue sending the MERCURY to any address" must be accompanied by all arrearages. Students, Professors, and Alumni are cordially invited to contribute. All subscriptions and business matter should be addressed to the Business Manager. Articles for publication should be addressed to the Editor. Address THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY, GETTYSBURG, PA. EDITORS DESK. WITH this issue the ninth volume of THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY begins. The retiring staff, continuing the work of their predecessors, have delivered into our hands a journal that occupies a high place among college publi-cations of the state. Their encouraging words and helpful sug-gestion, together with the kindly expressions of THE GETTYS-BURGIAN, and. the readiness with which contributors have re-sponded to our call for material, give us encouragement. We now fully realize the burden of work that it is ours to bear; neither are we insensible of the responsibilities that rest upon us; hence we solicit a continuation of the same co-opera-tion thus far extended to us, that we may present to the students, alumni, and friends of the institution a literary journal worthy of Pennsylvania College. i8 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. The recurrence of the twenty-second of February naturally causes one to look back through the not yet dim vists of Ameri-can history to the days of the Great Commander, whose life is a panorama of noble, self-sacrificing, patriotic deeds. We read with admiration of his boyhood and youth ; we see his growing worth as he delivers Gov. Dinwiddie's message to the French officer ; we gaze upon him with }oy as he tells the British general how to fight the Indians ; we laud his bravery as we see him in the front of many battles, and as he crosses the raging Delaware on that fateful Christmas night; we raise our hats in reverence while he fervently implores the interposition of the God of Bat-tles in behalf of the Continental armies ; but to know his true worth we must follow him further—we must see him cast aside the proffered crown and become a private citizen; we must note his magnanimous spirit at Yorktown, read the record of his suc-cessful administrations, stud}' his farewell to the American people and follow him once more into private life ere we can fully ap-preciate him whom '' Providence left childless that he might be called the Father of his Country." A WORD DESERVED. THE business manager and the assistant business manager of the late MERCURY staff have done so much for the journal that they should receive special mention in its columns. The chief difficulty in the way of the monthly nearly always has been lack of money. Occasionally, but not often, a manager has been found who, at the expiration of his term, could give a respectable report to the literary societies. Two years ago, on account of financial embarrassment, the monthly was changed from a news and literary journal to a journal entirely literary, and its name was changed to "THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY." In the first year, during which at least one issue was not published for want of money, THE MERCURY ran in debt, and serious thought was at times entertained by the staff of giving up the paper altogether. Such was the pecuniary condition of THE MERCURY when it fell into the hands of Mr. Hamacher and Mr. Moore. As regards what was done, it is sufficient to say that at present the paper is THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 19 on the best financial basis she .ever has known, and considering the chaotic state in which the late staff received it, we may say-without exaggeration that Mr. Hamacher has proved himself an exemplary business manager. —H., '00. MEETING OP THE PENNSYLVANIA COLLEGE ALUMNI ASSOCIATION OP HARRISBURG. THE annual business meeting and banquet of the Pennsyl-vania College Alumni Association of Harrisburg and vi-cinity was held at the "Harrisburg Club" on the evening of February 27th. At the business meeting the Committee on Or-ganization and By-laws submitted a Constitution which, with several minor alterations, was duly adopted. An election was }hen held for the selection of officers for the current year, the following being elected : President, M. H. Buehler, Harrisburg ; Vice-Presidents, Capt. F. M. Ott, Harrisburg; Rev. D. H. Gilbert, Harrisburg; Rev. F. D. Weigel, Mechanicsburg; Secretary and Treasurer, Chas. Hollinger, Harrisburg. At the termination of the business meeting the members ad-journed to the banquet hall of the Club, the walls of which were gracefully draped with flags and college colors, while numerous palms and other tropical plants were tastily scattered about the hall. In an alcove to one side was seated a full orchestra and mandolin club which rendered classical selections during the pro-gress of the banquet. Covers were laid for forty-two and an ex-tensive menu, served in the highest style of the culinary art, was thoroughly enjoyed. The Association had the honor of entertaining as its guests prominent Alumni of the various educational institutions; Yale being represented by Hon. Lyman Gilbert, Harrisburg; Prince-ton by Charles A. Bergner, Harrisburg; Dickinson by its Pres-ident, Dr. George E. Reed ; Irving by President Campbell; Penn-sylvania College by President H. W. McKnight, Prof. O. F. Klinger and Prof. Chas. Huber ; other guests being Mr. Charles A. Kunkel, Harrisburg, and Dr. Leslie Kauffman, of Kauffman, Pa. The office of Toastmaster was ably filled by Capt. F. M. Ott, '70, and toasts were responded to as follows : "Pennsylvania Col- 20 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. - lege," Prof. 0. F. Klinger; "Yale," Hon. Eyman D. Gilbert; "Colleges for Our Sisters," Dr. E. E- Campbell; "Princeton," Charles H. Bergner, Esq.; "Our Rival," Dr. George E. Reed; "Our Alumni," M. W. Jacobs, Esq. Addresses were also made by President McKnightand Rev. Dr. D. M. Gilbert. This initial banquet of the Association proved to be an unqualified success and was one of the most successful and complete functions of the kind ever held in Harrisburg. The members of the association present were : Rev. T. B. Birch, Prof. C. F. Kloss, Prof J. F. Kempfer, Rev. E. D. Weigel, all of Mechanicsburg; Rev. M. P. Hocker, Steelton ; Rev. Benj. R. Lantz, Millersburg ; Rev. G. M. K. Diffenderfer, Newport; Dr. J. F. Staley, Mr. F. W. Staley, Middletown; J. S. Alleman, Esq., Arthur D. Bacon, M. H. Buehler, Jno. F. Dapp, Meade D. Detweiler, Esq., Rev. Luther DeYoe, Dr. C. B. Fager, Dr. V. H. Fager, Prof. L,. O. Foose, Rev. D. M. Gilbert, Jno. W. Hay, M. D., C. H. Hollinger, John Hoffer, Jr., M. W. Jacobs, Esq., Croll Keller, Dr. Geo. B. Kunkel, Rev. Marion J. Kline, Dr. J. B. Mc- Alister, Capt. F. M. Ott, Dr. C. A. Rahter, Rev. M. H. Stine, Dr. H. B. Walter, E. H. Wert, Esq., H. M. Witman, all of Har-risburg, and Rev. J. Edw. Byers, Penbrook. ^ THE VEIL OE SEPARATION. " Ah sir, there are times in the history of men and nations when they stand so near the veil that separates mortals from im-mortals, time from eternity, and men from their God, that they can almost hear the breathings and feel the pulsations of the heart of the Infinite. Through such a time has this Nation gone, and when two hundred and fifty thousand brave spirits passed from the field of honor through that thin veil to the presence of God, and when at last its parting folds admitted the martyred President to the dead heroes of the Republic, the Nation stood so near the veil that the whispers of God were heard by the children of men." —JAMBS A. GARFIBW. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 21 E THE DEAD ON EXPANSION. XPANSION is in future the policy of our country, and only cowards fear and oppose it."—Buchanan. " It is of very dangerous tendency and doubtful con-sequences to enlarge the boundaries of this country. There must be some limit to the extent of our territory, if we would make our institutions permanent. I have always wished that the country should exhibit to the nations of the earth this example of a great, rich, powerful republic which is not possessed of the spirit of aggrandizement. It is an example, I think, due from us to the world in favor of the character of republican government." —Webster. " We are not seeking annexation of territory, certainly we do not desire it unless it should come by the volition of a people who might ask the priceless boon of a place under the flag of the Union. I feel sure that for a long time to come the people of the United States will be wisely content with our present area, and not launch upon any scheme of annexation."—Blaine. The editor of the School Gazette, after quoting the above, ex-plains that the utterances of Buchanan and Webster were made when the South sought to increase the territory of the Union, and that Blaine's statement is only ten years old. Her Dewey lips Hobsoned his, while like a Shaft'er glance, Schley-ly thrown with a Sampson's strength, pierced through his heart, Weyl'er true love was Miles away, suffering Cervera heart-pangs than this false woman could believe. "O'tis beyond me," said he," why I should Merritt this ?'.'—From the Lesbion Herald. " When you see a stately temple, Fair and beautiful and bright, With its lofty towers and turrets Glistening- in the sun's clear light, Think how soon the noble structure Would to shapeless ruin fall, Were it not for sure foundations Firmly laid beneath it all." —DR. C. H. PAYNB. II 22 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. THE OLD CHIEF AND THE BLACKSMITH. THE final day had come and the east was already bright with day. In golden splendor the pure sun mounted the hori-zon of a calm, cloudless sky. Its yellow rays lit up the green patches of corn and pasture in the most delicate colors and tiuted the distant mountains, stretched in majestic line far into the north, in soft purple. All was calm and peaceful. Silence seemed to rule the universe, as if it had hushed it for a great oc-casion. What an occasion it was ! Among those mountains the poor Indian was busy long before sunrise preparing with sorrow-ful mood a journey of the deepest woe and gloom. Yes, this was the day. The red man must change his home. Those hills so rich in fruit and grain were not his. The barren mountains had no place for him. He lived on the white man's ground. He hunted the white man's game. One last, lingering look on a happy home, the abode of his ancestors, his rightful inheritance, where once he enjoyed his wild day unmolested and drove his game over unclaimed land. He must go and the white man gives no farewell, no sign of sorrow, no clasp of the hand, save one, a hard laborer, an honest blacksmith. The early morning found his roughly-made work-shop at the foot of the mountains in full operation. Now the noisy anvil broke the deep silence and now the groaning bellows breathed loud and heavily, sending the black smoke far into the clear sky. Within and without in scattered heaps lay almost everything that a smith could make use of, and much more that he couldn't use at all. The workman stood by the side of the forge, his one hand bounding up and down with the handle of the bellows, the other poking at intervals the roaring flame with an iron rod. He was a large, broad-shouldered man, with slightly bended back, a re-sult of his much stooping. A thick gray beard swept his broad breast, which was partly exposed by an open shirt. His face was large and stout, of hard masculine expression, full of force and intelligence. A well proportioned head, broad, high forehead and prominent chin, showed a man of no low, trivial thought, but one of judgment and decision ; a man, who, if he would have a chance to develope his powers, might have been a genius, but by force of circumstances remained uneducated, possessing, however, THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 23 a great amount of good common sense, which he made use of when the occasion demanded it. As he stood by his work his brow was tightly contracted and his eyes firmly fixed on the flame. He was thinking. What were his thoughts ? Let us believe that he was thinking of the Indian. He ofteu thought of him. He pitied him. He believed that the Indian deserved a home and that he could love a home with as much tenderness and fidelity as any one else ; that he had feelings and that he had a soul as immortal as his own. Such were the thoughts of this poor workman as he stood in his shop on the last day for the Indian in his Eastern home. Suddenly a man appeared before the door. The smith, somewhat taken by surprise in the midst of his thought, quickly turned and beheld before him a neighbor; a farmer who was generally known in the community as being of a sour, selfish disposition ; a man with whom the smith could never become wholly reconciled. He was one of those many persons whose only care and thought is to en-large his borders, heap up his wealth, drive his wife and children at the first peep of day from their warm beds into the fields, and at evening reckon a profit of five cents a good day's work. He had no thought for the Indian. He hated him and could scarcely wait until he would leave the country forever. The reason for this was a selfish one. He found out that the Indians had dis-covered a silver mine iu the mountains and were working it with immense success. "They couldn't take this along," he argued, ' 'so the first man to find it would be its owner.'' He knew that the blacksmith was in close friendship with the redskins, and more than likely would know more about its locality and value than any other person in the neighborhood. He therefore came at an early hour to the shop. The smith began the conversation. " Good morning, Henry. A beautiful day?" "Splendid," replied the farmer. "They can't complain of bad weather.'' " No, they can't," answered the smith, " and I don't believe the weather bothers them much. They have other things to com-plain about; a lost home, for instance." "And lost produce and grain," quickly returned Henry. " I'll warrant they will have to raise their own now." " Henry," answered the smith with earnest expression, look-ing his visitor fair in the face, " I don't believe they ever stole a 24 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. cent's worth from you. You have not treated the Indian right and he knows it, and before he would steal your crops in revenge behind your back, he would meet you face to face like a man." " Well, what I see with my own eyes I guess I can believe," replied the farmer in great haste. " But whether they stole it or not, how about the mine? They can't take it along." " No, they surely can't," said the smith, sorrowfully, " but I would to God they could. Some of our greedy neighbors, ex-cuse the word, Henry, you know it's the truth, some of our greedy neighbors can hardly wait until the Indian leaves to lay hold on that mine, the only means the poor creatures have of making a livelihood. They are friendless, homeless, without pity or sympathy, and worse than all, an unknown west before them. It's shameful. But, Henry, one thing I wish with all my heart, and that is that these mountains might bury the treasure deep in their bosoms before the merciless white man pollutes it with his unworthy hand." "Come, come, come," began the other. "You're on your old subject again. That isn't the point. Some one will get it and so why not try for a share ?" No sooner had the last word slipped from the lips of the farmer than both were startled by the clatter of hoofs over the little road-bridge by the side of the shop. Henry walked briskly to the door, saw the Indian, immediately returned, somewhat paler, however, and whispered to the smith, " It's the chief." The Indian entered, dressed in all the gaudy decorations of his rank. His black silk hair fell gracefully about his muscular shoulders. His face was broad and brown, painted in circular stripes of various colors. A pair of black eyes, tightly pinched, glanced sharply over his high, prominent cheek-bones. Although old, as the wrinkles in his forehead would indicate, he seemed as agile and quick of motion as a young warrior on his first hunt. Bending himself slightly forward he made a becoming salute with his right arm, and, with eyes tenderly fixed on the old smith, ad-dressed him. '' What I have to say will not be long. You know all. The red man must leave his native hills for the barren west. The day has come when he must bid adieu to his mountain home. He comes to give good-bye to a friend. The Indian leaves many enemies, but he comes to give the blacksmith a kind farewell. He envies not his little home, his small fields, his blacksmith THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 25 shop. May he live in peace. May prosperity gladden his ad-vancing years. Ah, no more shall he bend his back beneath the horse. No more shall he swing the sledge. The red man's friend shall be rich in fields, proud in wealth, honored among men. The treasures of mines shall make happy his children's homes. His grand-children shall live well, they shall be truly fortunate. The Indian's silver shall be theirs and it shall prosper in their hands." " Come," continued the chief, drawing a silken scarf from his waist, " come, friend, let me bind your eyes and I will lead you to a treasure such as man never beheld before. Come, it is yours." The old smith was astonished at the chief's offer. He stood mute and silent. Recovering himself he approached nearer to the Indian and with broken speech humbly addressed him. "I thank you heartily, chief, for your ofier, but I cannot accept it. I live happy. I work hard all day long and am satis-fied with my little home and family. What do I want with all that wealth ? Why do I deserve it ? I could not rest night or day by living off of the Indian's silver. No, chief, I refuse it. I thank you for the offer, but give or sell the mine to one who could work it with untroubled conscience." The chief was greatly troubled by the smith's refusal and was on the point of pressing his offer further, when Henry broke in, his face beaming from ear to ear as though he was sure it was his already. " I'll let you bind my eyes, venerable chief. I'll take it." The Indian, with angry countenance, drew back in amaze-ment and with scorn answered him. "Youtakeit! Ah, no, no, no, white man ! Rather let it rot with the ages than have it en-rich the hand of an enemy." Approaching the smith again he kindly entreated him to accept. "It's yours, take it. Come, let me Show you your wealth ?" " No, I can't accept it," inter-rupted the smith humbly. " It would bring worriment upon my gray hairs and strife among my children. No, I can't manage so large a treasure." The chief, now aware that it would be useless to urge him further, quickly stepped forward and said : " Then, if you will not take my silver, take my hand. The mine will remain where it is. Man cannot find it. It is the Indian's treasure and ever shall be." Then bowing low before the old man he withdrew to his horse, mounted and departed for the mountains. The farmer, j| 26 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. not feeling very well, quietly walked to the door and was gone without a word. It was some time before the blacksmith returned to his work and resumed his place at the forge. He thought the matter over and over and finally concluded that he had done the right thing. He worked hard that whole day till evening, when he locked the shop, walked silently home and told his wife and children the whole story. They all in the old quaint way agreed that father had done the best and so went to bed and slept. The next morning the smith arose bright and early, as usual, greatly refreshed from the anxiety of the previous day. After breakfast he started for his shop, which was not far distant, thinking not so much of the fortune which he had refused as Of the wandering Indians, who must have been by that time far on their journey. Arriving at the shop he unlocked the shabby door, entered it and taking a small iron shovel from the wall stepped to the forge and began to clear away the ashes to start a fire. After thrusting his shovel several times into the heap, he became greatly astonished at the smallness of the hole. It seemed to have grown much smaller during the night. Bending over the forge he began to scrape away the ashes with his rough hand. To his surprise he found that at the bottom of the open-ing stood a bright, round kettle filled with silver blocks about an inch square. With trembling hands he lifted the treasure from its hiding place and stood it on the anvil, noticing at the same time a small piece of paper sticking out over the rim of the vessel. Drawing this gently from the blocks he unfolded it and saw drawn in rough outline the figure of an Indian, under which was written the words, " To the Indian's friend." —W. H. H., '01. " "When you see a mig-hty forest, With its tall and stately trees, Lifting' up their giant branches; Wrestling with the wintry breeze; Do not fail to learn the lesson Which the moaning winds resound, Every oak was once an acorn, All unnoticed on the ground." —DR. C. H. PAYNE. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 27 WHY WE BROKE CAMP. TEIYL you a story? Well, if you have patience enough I'll tell you of an experience I had last summer vacation, while on a camping trip. You see, every summer vacation when I come home I spring it on the " old gent," that, after having worked so hard for nine months, my poor brain needs rest. Well, he takes it all in, and gives me a vacation of several weeks. Then the old gang gets together, and we go on a few weeks' loaf. Fun ? Well, I should say so. I^ast Summer, following our usual custom, we visited "Straw-berry Island," a beautiful little Island in the middle of the broad Susquehanna. Here there is but one small village of a few hun-dred population. The rest of the square mile of the island is heavily wooded, and affords an excellent place for campers. Usually there are anywhere from three to six parties camping on the island. But at the time we were there none of the others had yet arrived. Soon we were settled down, and were enjoying ourselves very much in hunting and fishing. One evening after we had been there about a week, I went to the village for our mail. When I got back, and distributed the letters to their respective owners, I took my own letters and drew apart a little to read them. The first one I opened was from my father. (You know my father is postmaster in the town in which I live, and, as it is a pretty large town, usually has large quantities of stamps, besides a good deal of money, on hand.) Well, to continue where I left off, the first letter was from my father, and the very first line conveyed to me the startling news that the post-office had been robbed the previous week of a considerable sum of money and about $400 worth of stamps. There was no clue to the robbers, and at present the officers were at a stand-still in their investigations. It is needless to tell you that I was surprised at the news. My first thought was to leave for home next day, but further in the letter father said I needn't let this spoil my fun, and that I should stay as long as I wished. So I decided to stay. The next afternoon I was appointed to run over the island in search of some stray chickens for our evening meal. I started about four o'clock, and leisurely made my way across the island. About a quarter-mile beyond the village I came upon a thick 28 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. clump of trees and undergrowth, situated about three hundred yards from a farmhouse. Thinking this would be a good place for the chickens, I cautiously made my way into the thickest part of the copse. Suddenly I was startled by hearing a gruff voice directly in front of me. I stopped at once, and soon heard another voice, raised in an altercation with the first speaker. He was cursing him roundly for a cheat and a rascal, saying that after having done the dirty work (I couldn't quite catch what), he wasn't going to take a cent less than half of the haul. I be-came interested in what was going on, and crept closer to the speakers, and saw two as villainous and rough looking toughs as ever I beheld. Between them they had a large bag of money, and beside the larger of them lay a peculiar oblong tin box, which somehow or other seemed very familiar to me. All at once it struck me that that was the stamp box which I had seen so often in my father's safe at home. Then it flashed upon me that these were the robbers who had so neatly eluded the officers of the law. My first impulse was to get back to camp at once, tell the other fellows about the robbery and my discovery, and then come and capture these fellows. But, on second thought, I saw it would be wiser to watch them, and find out where they took the booty. Soon the rascals came to an agreement, and decided that they would hide the " swag " until a convenient time should offer for them to dispose of it. They then picked up the bag and stamp box and made their way toward the other side of the island. It was now nearly dark, and I thought I could safely follow them. So I waited till they had gone, and then cautiously picked my way after them. After a half-hour's walk they came to a small tent pitched in a wooded hollow near the shore. They entered here, and I crept up close to catch every word concerning the disposal of the money and stamps. After a good deal of discussion they decided to bury it in the ground under the tent, and in order to do this I knew they would have to move the tent; so I quietly slipped away and hurried off as quickly as possible to our camp, and told the boys about the whole matter. They were eager to go at once, and even more so when I told them that the postoffice authorities had offered a re-ward of $500 for the capture of the robbers. Now, this meant $100 apiece for us, and we could do a good many things on $100. So we decided to go that very night. THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 29 We had with us several revolvers and hunting-guns. Each fellow armed himself with one of these, and was soon ready to set out. We started about eleven o'clock, and reached the village a half-hour later. Here I stepped into a store, telephoned to the police at home that I had caught the thieves, and then proceeded. About twelve o'clock we were nearly at the robbers' camp, and I told my chums to take it easy so that we might take the men by surprise. Every fellow cocked his revolver and made ready for business. We crept silently up to the tent, and, peering in, saw two dark forms lying within, sound asleep. Then we entered, and order-ing two of the boys to cover each man, I proceeded to awake the larger and tougher of them. I succeeded pretty quickly, and soon had him securely bound, and then proceeded to do the same for his partner. We found all the booty buried in the earth under the tent, and then loosening our prisoners' legs, ordered them to march on ahead. We soon reached our camp, and binding the men again so that they could not get away, we took turns at guarding them during the night. We held them till the next evening, when my father came with two officers. We all set out for home, and soon had the satisfaction of seeing the malefactors in prison. In due time we received the reward. I saved mine, and father added a substan-tial sum to it. That's the reason I am flush this term. Come up town and have some oysters on me, the whole gang. — " APFI,EBEB." '■ Oh, wad some power the g-iftie gie us To see oursels as ithers see us ! It wad frae monil a blunder free us And foolish notion, What airs in dress and g'ait wad lea' us And e'en devotion." -BURNS. i\ 30 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. AT THE BREAKFAST TABLE. GRACE had been said. The preacher of the village, whose gray hairs had never been endangered by conjugal wrath, in short, who was a bachelor, had performed that solemn office, as was his wont, at the Lyn boarding-house. Around the table sat six. The preacher, by right of his sober mien and broadcloth, of course, occupied the first place of honor, that is, he sat at the end of the table next the door leading into the pantry, from which issued the appetizing sound of the sizzling, sputtering and splashing of the cooking, or the rattle and clatter of pots and pans, and occasionally, to vary the program, the bang of falling dishes invariably followed by a lecture on culinary economy and general management by the matron of the establish-ment, who at divers times and in divers manners, delivered these emphatic and lengthy dissertations to the cook, a buxom, grin-ning lass of perhaps sixteen summers, who bore several red marks on her face, testifying to the violence of gesture with which the lecturer was accustomed to drive home her rather striking argu-ments. Next to the preacher sat Mr. Eyn, who boasted the empty title of " Eord of the House "—a little, pinched, henpecked piece of crusty mortality, who spoke with a very emphatic "I intend" or " I will," but, as I observed, only when his wife was in the pan-try and the door closed. In her presence, or within range of her eye through the open pantry door, he seemed to sink about six inches in stature, and peep slyly out of the corners of his e3'es, like a cat expecting a sudden and unannounced visitation of boot-jacks and stove-pokers. Beside the hard-fated Mr. Lyn was situated, geographically speaking, a volcano of sentimental effusion, or, perhaps better, sat the village poet. He looked like a poet, at least to a stranger, having all the visible qualifications—long hair, a sentimental air, a canary-like whimper that sometimes sounded like the sigh of a zephyr, and a box of dyspepsia tablets sticking out of his vest pocket, which would most strongly confirm the theory suggested by the unbarbered hair. At the end of the table, opposite the snowy-templed " shep-herd in Israel," sat the school-mistress, another very important functionary in the village, enthroned in dignity and starch. She THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 31 always dressed in a rusty shade of brown satin, evidently to match her complexion, and had it so thoroughly starched that she could sit down only in one way, there being only one hinge in the dress. She was always " precise" and plain, never bedecked herself with flowers, perhaps because she couldn't starch them. Slight in figure, in her rusty armor she looked not altogether unlike a mud-wasp— a dignified mud-wasp. Her features denoted character, but as Pat said, who sat around the corner from her, they looked a little smoke-dried. Pat was a red-nosed Irishman, with a broad, open, jolly Irish face, always lit up with an expression of bantering humor, and partly covered with a thin, scattered crop of stubble. He was the man of all work about the establishment, and bossed about by the lady of the house, curtly snapped at by the next highest power, Mr. Lyn, divinely stared at by the volcano, furiously glared at by the mud-wasp, and reproached every now and then by the preacher for profanity, he bad a very wretched time of it, and often gave that as a reason for the redness of his nose. "Be-jabbers," he would say, " Oi must droon moi troubles;" but how he drowned his troubles by reddening his nose I never could imagine. Grace had been said, as I stated before, and Jane began to serve roast chicken, starting with the preacher. " Thank you, my girl," said his reverence in his blandest tone as she turned from him to the poet, who took a wing with a smile—a very poetic smile—and, holding it up on a fork that all could see it, in his softest canary notes began : " Oh for the wings of an angel, To fly to that heavenly shore, I would leave this land of sorrow, There in joy to dwell evermore." " Oh, how delectable !" exclaimed the ecstatic teacher. "What spontaneity and brilliancy of genius ! Surely, Mr. Bilious, you have been endowed with those peculiar qualities of intellect which combine with a deep and susceptible emotional nature to consti-tute those favored and favorite mortals, whose function in life and society is to add to the general happiness of humanity ; one of those who drink of Olympian fountains and feast on the ambrosial —the ambrosial—feast on the ambrosial—in short, Mr. Bilious, you are a poet." She always rattled out her comments in a man- 32 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. \ ner something like a hysterical alarm-clock, and stopped for the same reason, too—because she was run down. The flattered rhymer, in his confusion and gratitude, blushed a sort of 3^ellow green, and fumbled about in his inspired cranium for a suitable answer, when Pat relieved him. " Ay, Midam, a pooet's boorn a pooet; ye can't make 'im." Though "Madam" rarely condescended to notice any of Pat's remarks, she replied: "Mr. O'Brien, I fully appreciate the force and significance of that sententious and universal truth to which you have just given utterance. I find it true, in my ramblings through the variegated fields of imaginative literature, that a skill-ful master of the poetic art must—must possess certain natural endowments of mind and feeling. He may avail himselfof the most efficient intellectual discipline in the most advanced institutions of learning, established in either hemisphere, the Eastern or the Western, fortne impartation of knowledge and mental develop-ment, and yet, sir, may never gain admission into the temple of the Muses." " Yis, a pooit's loike an iditor. Ye moight fade a goat tin years on newspaipers, but shtill ye couldn't make an iditor av 'im." Very much to Pat's annoyance—for he felt unusually honored in being patronized by such an able representative of scholarship and high English—the poet, who felt that they were both allud-ing to him, chimed in : " If Nature on you doth bestow it, To reveal her charms, to be a poet, In school or out you're bound to show it, And all the world will some time know it." "Och, bedad," supplemented Pat, with a dubious smile of malicious humor, intending to punish Mr. Bilious for this obtru-sive sally, "Ye remoindmeso much of Samson in the Scriptures." The poet shook out his tresses of black, hanging in Miltonic waves over his shoulder, proud to have them compared to Sam-son's immortal looks of strength, but Pat. continued : " Ye both use th' same wippin, only ye make pooetry with it and he slew the inimies of Israel." Of course, we laughed; the preacher till he was as red as Pat's nose, I till my sides ached, and even the school-mistress smiled as loud as the constitutional gravity of her deportment would permit, the poet, all the while, turning alter- THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. 33 nately red, white and blue, and looking as though he had swal-lowed a smoothing-iron. Mr. Lyn alone did not smile—the pan-try door was open. The cook was seized with a fit of tittering that went nigh end-ing with her dropping the coffeepot, with which she had now reached the school-mistress, filling the cups as she went round the table. " O Miss Jane, do exercise more vigilant care lest you occa-sion some disastrous calamity. Just cogitate how seriously I might have been scalded by that liquid, in that state of violent ebullition, as you undoubtedly apprehend. Such inexcusable carelessness cannot, must not be tolerated, young lady." Jane, somewhat abashed, colored and would have attempted an apology, but the preacher, ever ready to rescue one in embar-rassment, interposed : " Nothing hurt, Jane; accidents will hap-pen everybody. I don't wish them to you," he added, with an air of cheerful gallantry, " but I like to see you blush up ; your cheeks look like peaches." " Yis, yer Riverence," added Pat, "and Oi am so fand of paiches," looking at the preacher and then at the cook. The teacher had, by far, too positive notions of propriety not to rebuke the facetious Patrick. " Undoubtedly, Mr. O'Brien, you have not had the advantages which the cultured usually de-nominate the ' privileges of high society,' those elements of good-breeding enjoyed in homes of education and refinement, or un-doubtedly you would not be guilty of the audacity, so boldly and improperly to allude to the female employee of the establishment in which you occupy the humble position of a menial. Mr. O'Brien, I certainly am surprised." Pat looked at me and winked, evidently not much discon-certed by the bombardment. •'You exhibit," she continued, angry because Pat did not wilt, " directly under and within the range of my ocular vision, such indecency towards me, one so manifestly your superior"— another wink. "Well, did I ever!" she ejaculated, closing her mouth with a snap like a pocketbook, looking daggers all the while at the unabashed Mr. O'Brien. "Did ye iver," rejoined the impregnable Patrick. "It's moire than Oi can till ye what ye iver did; yer auld enough to 34 THE GETTYSBURG MERCURY. have done imiything, judgin', as the poet says, 'by the silver min-gled mang th' gauld.' " '' Sir,'' sharply retorted the now thoroughly enraged pre-ceptress, "I do not propose—" " Nay, Midim," interrupted Pat., " Oi didn't ask ye to pro-pose, and there's no danger of innybody havin' ye innyhow, un-less p'rhaps yed propose in the dairk av th' moon." During this passage between the scholarly tongue of the out-raged pedagogue and the native wit of the mischievous Irishman none of us dared to laugh out, though we suffered severely with suppressed mirth, which, in my case, played a little game of earth-quake in my abdominal regions, made me drink two glasses of water in quick succession and spill half a cup of coffee over the table. Determined to beat a retreat with at least the honors of war, she turned from the Irishman, as if perfectly disgusted with his conduct, and addressed Jane, who was about to give her a^second cup of coffee. " No, thank you. If I should indulge in the sec-ond cup of this beverage, although I consider it exquisitely pal-atable and invigorating, when administered, or rather taken, in moderate quantities, my digestive organ would be greatly exag-gerated— I mean aggravated, and probably develop in the course of time sub-acute gastritis or some other modification of irritant poisoning. Indeed, I have entertained the greatest apprehension of"—just then the door bell rang, and I was called out. —A. N. ONYMOUS. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. C. H. SOLT MERCHANT TAILOR Masonic Bldg., GETTYSBURG Our collection of Woolens for the coming Fall and Winter season cannot be surpassed for variety, attractive designs and general completeness. The latest styles of fashionable novelties in the most approved shades. Staples of exceptional merit, value and wearing durability. Also altering, repairing, dyeing and scouring at moderate prices. .FOR UP-TO-DATE. Clothing, Hats, Shoes, And Men's Furnishing' Goods, go to. I. HALLEM'S MAMMOTH CLOTHING HOUSE, Chambersburg St., GETTYSBURG, PA. ESTABLISHED 1867 BY ALLEN WALTON. ALLEN K. WALTON, President and Treasurer. ROBT. J. WALTON, Superintendent. flammelstomn Broom Stone Gompany Quarrymen and Manufacturers of Building Stone, Sawed Flagging and Tile Waltonville, Dauphin Co., Pa. Contractors for all kinds of Cut Stone Work. Parties visiting the Quarries will leave cars at Brownstone Station on the P Telegraph and Express Address. BROWNSTONE, PA. : R. R. R. PATRONIZE OUR ADVERTISERS. The Century ^^.0 Double-Feed Fountain Pen. ^^Poiated- GEO. EVELER, Agent for Gettysburg College PRICE LIST. .$2 SO . 2 50 No. 3. Chased 3 00 Hexag-on, Black or Mottled No. 3. Gold Mounted 4 00 Pearl Holder, Gold Mounted . 2 50 . S 00 THE CENTURY PEN CO. Askyour Stationer or our Agent to shozv them toyou WHITEWATER, WIS A good local agent-wanted in every school. ^mmwmmrmwmmwmwmwm^ Printing and Binding "We Print This Book THE MT. HOLLY STATIONERY AND PRINTING CO. does all classes of Printing' and Binding, and can furnish you any Book, Bill Head, Letter Head, Envelope, Card, Blank, or anything pertain-ing- to their business in just as good style and at less cost than you can obtain same elsewhere. They are located among the mountains but their work is metropolitan. You can be convinced of this if you give them the opportunity. Mt. Holly Stationery and Printing Co. K SPRINGS, PA. VL H. S. BENNER, .DEALER IN. Groceries, Notions, Queensware, Glassware, Etc., Tobacco and Cigars. Yl CHAMBERSBURG ST. WE RECOMMEND THESE BUSINESS MEN. Pitzer House, (Temperance) JNO. E. PITZER, Prop. Rates $1.00 to $1.25 per day. Battlefield a specialty. 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Two doors from Court House. MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. Steam Heat, Electric Light and Call Bells all through the House. Closets and Bath Rooms on Every Floor. Sefton & Flem-ming's Livery is connected with this Hotel. Good Teams and Competent Guides for the Battlefield. Charges Moderate, Satisfaction Guaranteed. Rales $1.50 Per Day. R. A. WONDERS, Corner Cigar Parlors. A full line of Cigars, Tobacco, Pipes, Etc. Scott's Corner, Opp. Eagle Hotel. GETTYSBURG, PA. L Try My Choice Line of .' £ High-Grade Chocolates 3 L, at 40c per lb. Always fresh at ,\ C CHAS. H. McCLEARY "j C Carlisle St., Opposite W. M. R. R. ^ Also Foreign and Domestic Fruits '(' Always on Hand. JOHN M. MINNIQH, Confectionery, lee, -andIee Creams. Oysters Stewed and Fried. No. 17 BALTIMORE ST. BARBER SHOP®® CHARLES C. SEFTON, Proprietor. .Baltimore Street. The place for Students to go. Only First-class Tonsorial Work. LIVERY ATTACHED. 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At the turn of the twentieth century, numerous cities such as Cartagena (Colombia) and Khartoum (Sudan), adopted a centralized technical and administrative model for the management of drinking water. Associated since its construction to planned urban development projects, the water network constitutes a political technology and becomes a landmark of urban spatiality, for politicians as well as for technicians and urban dwellers. The compared analysis of access strategies, daily usage, and the role of water in the imagination of two populations with an ambiguous urban status – Caño de Loro (Cartagena) and Tuti (Khartoum) – allows us to approach the social complexity of contemporary cities in the South. The comparison supposes a reflexive orientation that leads us, over and beyond the socio-political dynamics of each context, to critically consider our categories of analysis. In the first part the water network is contextualized in the history of each city, where its recent apparition and setting up rests upon the reinforcement or creation of dense power relations, as well as a new conception of nature, particularly of water. Such relational and political features lead to, in the second part, an understanding of how the materiality of water and its sharing produces particular localities within the urban space. Therefore, the analysis of relations between public and private spheres through everyday water exchanges lets us discuss the relevance of the notion of "collective management" of resources in Cartagena and Khartoum. The third part considers the mechanisms draw on by different actors within the particular context of urban planning to negotiate their margin of action on land and water. It highlights the political dimension of identity categories as well as the transformative power of individual and collective actions in situations where resource management is crossed with individual, local, national, and global logics at the same time. ; A principios del siglo XX, en Jartum (Sudán) y en Cartagena (Colombia), como en numerosas ciudades del planeta, es adoptado un modelo técnico-administrativo centralizado para la gestión del agua de consumo. Desde entonces, la red de agua potable, asociada a proyectos de desarrollo urbano planificado, constituye una tecnología política y deviene rápidamente una marca distintiva de la espacialidad y del modo de vida urbanos tanto para los administradores como para los técnicos y para las poblaciones citadinas. El análisis comparado de las estrategias de acceso al agua, de sus usos cotidianos y del imaginario que le es ligado en poblaciones que tienen un status urbano problemático – Caño de Loro (Cartagena) y Tuti (Jartum) – permite abordar la complejidad social de las ciudades contemporáneas del Sur. En este sentido, la comparación comporta una orientación crítica y conduce, más allá del estudio de las dinámicas sociopolíticas de cada contexto, a una revisión de las categorías de análisis utilizadas en este trabajo. En la primera parte de la tesis, la red hídrica es contextualizada en la historia de cada ciudad donde su instalación, relativamente reciente, reposa sobre la intensificación e incluso la aparición de importantes relaciones de poder así como sobre una transformación de la concepción de la naturaleza, más precisamente del agua. El carácter relacional y político de la red hídrica permite comprender, en la segunda parte de la tesis, como la materialidad del agua y los intercambios de los que es objeto, producen "localidades" particulares al interior del espacio urbano. Así, el análisis de las relaciones entre espacios públicos y privados à través la redistribución cotidiana del agua lleva a una discusión sobre la pertinencia de la noción de "gestión colectiva" de los recursos en Cartagena y en Jartum. La tercera parte del trabajo aborda los mecanismos movilizados por diferentes actores en contextos de planificación urbana para negociar su margen de acción sobre el agua y la tierra. De esta manera es considerada la dimensión política de las categorías de pertenencia y el poder transformador de las acciones colectivas e individuales en situaciones donde la gestión de los recursos es atravesada al mismo tiempo por lógicas individuales, locales, nacionales y globales. ; Au tournant du XXe siècle, un modèle technique et administratif centralisé est adopté pour l'approvisionnement en eau de consommation dans de nombreuses villes de la planète, dont Carthagène (Colombie) et Khartoum (Soudan). Dès lors, associé aux projets de développement urbain planifié, le réseau hydrique se constitue comme une technologie politique et devient un marqueur de la spatialité et des modes de vie urbains, autant pour les administrateurs que pour les techniciens et les populations citadines. L'analyse comparée des stratégies d'accès, des usages quotidiens et de l'imaginaire lié à l'eau de deux populations insulaires dont le caractère urbain s'avère problématique – Caño de Loro (Carthagène) et Tuti (Khartoum) – permet d'aborder la complexité sociale des villes du Sud contemporaines. La comparaison comporte dans ce sens une orientation critique et conduit, au-delà de l'étude des dynamiques sociopolitiques propres à chaque contexte, à interroger les diverses catégories d'analyse utilisées au cours de ce travail. Dans la première partie de la thèse, le réseau hydrique est restitué dans l'histoire de chaque agglomération où sa mise en place, relativement récente, repose à la fois sur le renforcement, voire sur l'émergence, d'importants rapports de pouvoir et sur une transformation dans la conception de la nature, et plus particulièrement de l'eau. Ce caractère relationnel et politique du réseau ouvre la voie, dans une deuxième partie, à la compréhension de la façon dont la matérialité de l'eau et ses échanges contribuent à la production de « localités » particulières au sein de l'espace urbain. Ainsi, l'analyse des relations entre espaces publics et privés par le biais du partage quotidien de l'eau amène à discuter la pertinence de la notion de « gestion collective » des ressources à Carthagène et à Khartoum. La troisième partie aborde les mécanismes mobilisés par différents acteurs, dans le contexte particulier de la planification urbaine, pour négocier leur marge d'action sur l'eau et la terre. Elle met en lumière la dimension politique des catégories d'appartenance ainsi que le pouvoir transformateur des actions collectives et individuelles dans des situations où la gestion des ressources est traversée par de logiques, à la fois individuelles, locales, nationales et globales.

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

On the second anniversary of the final debacle of U.S. involvement in Afghanistan, we should consider the lessons of that disaster for U.S. strategy elsewhere. While the case of Afghanistan itself is by nature unique, Washington's mistakes and failures reflected wider and deeper patterns — and pathologies — in U.S. policymaking and political culture. If left unaddressed, these will lead to more disasters in future.Yet most of the mainstream media and the think tank world are treating the memory of the U.S. war in Afghanistan not as a source of reflection but as an embarrassment to be forgotten as quickly and completely as possible. This parallels the approach to the memory of Vietnam in the U.S. mainstream — and the result was the disaster of Iraq. One of the most astonishing things about the U.S. debate — to give it that name — prior to the invasion of Iraq, was the general failure to consider, or even mention, what the experience of Vietnam might have taught. Today, this refusal to learn lessons applies above all to U.S. engagement in Ukraine.The failure to pursue diplomacy with the Taliban prior to the U.S. invasion of Afghanistan can be explained and excused by the fury naturally felt by Americans at the terrorist attacks of 9/11, and the Taliban's refusal immediately to hand over the al-Qaida leadership that was clearly responsible. Nonetheless, given the appalling costs that resulted from the U.S. invasion, it is worth asking whether an approach that allowed the Taliban to save face and remain true to their own beliefs might have produced better results for both Americans and Afghans: for example, exploring the possibility that the Taliban could be persuaded to deliver the AQ leadership to another Muslim country. In the case of Iraq, there was no sincere diplomatic effort at all, since the Bush administration had already made the decision to invade.The second lesson of Afghanistan is as old as war itself and was emphasized by military theorist Carl von Clausewitz: that there can never be certainty of long-term victory in any war, if only because war, more than any other human activity, is liable to generate unintended ramifications and consequences. In the case of Afghanistan, the mission to eliminate al Qaida and remove the Taliban from power morphed into a far greater — and probably innately doomed — effort to create a modern democratic Afghan state through foreign intervention, aid and supervision.This in turn became related to the attempt to destroy the old and exceptionally powerful nexus between Islamic faith and Pashtun nationalism that had generated the Taliban, much of the resistance to the Communist regime and Soviet intervention in the 1980s, and numerous revolts against the British Empire before that. Given that most Pashtuns live in Pakistan, the inevitable result was an extension of the conflict to that country, leading to a Pakistani civil war in which tens of thousands died. Pakistan's refusal or inability to expel the Afghan Taliban led to the threat of direct U.S. intervention in Pakistan — which, if it had occurred, would have produced a catastrophe far worse than Afghanistan and Iraq put together.The failure to anticipate consequences is worsened by conformism and careerism; not that these tendencies are any worse in the U.S. establishment than elsewhere. But America's power and capacity to intervene across the world magnify their negative consequences. On the one hand, they mean that even experts and journalists who are in a position to know better, join officials in unthinking obedience to the establishment line of the given moment, which may have only the most tangential relationship to realities in the country concerned.Returning to Afghanistan after the fall of the Taliban, I encountered journalists whom I had known when covering the Mujahedin war against the Soviets and Communists in the 1980s. I was amused — kind of — to find them parroting a new version of the line that Moscow and Kabul had put out in the 1980s: that the Afghan resistance had no real local support and was not really Afghan, and that it was entirely the creation of outside powers (including Pakistan) and money. This was despite the fact that the Taliban were recruiting exactly the same people from exactly the same areas as the Mujahedin, who were fighting for exactly the same reasons.Matters are made worse by the flood of instant shake-and-bake "experts" who are generated every time the United States embarks on a new overseas venture. Selected for their connections in Washington rather than any real knowledge of the areas concerned, they could not correct the mistakes of U.S. policy even if they had the moral courage to do so. Moreover, their ignorance of local history and culture makes them dreadfully receptive to the self-interested fantasies of their local informants. Thus I was also amused in the early 2000s to hear "advisers" on Afghanistan to the U.S. (and European) governments declare that "Afghanistan in the 1960s was a successful middle class democracy." This U.S. syndrome could well be called Oedipal, since it is both incestuous and self-blinded.Once both political parties have committed themselves to a given strategy, the bipartisan Washington establishment finds it extremely difficult to admit mistakes and change course — a tendency to which the U.S. military has also sometimes contributed in a disastrous fashion. This military refusal to admit defeat has its admirable sides — nobody should want U.S. generals to be quitters.That, however, is why America needs political leaders (including ones with personal military experience, like Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy and Carter) with the knowledge and courage to tell the generals when it is time to call a halt.Instead, in Afghanistan (as documented by the Special Inspector General for Afghan Reconstruction and others), generals and administration officials colluded to produce optimistic lies, which were then circulated by a credulous and subservient media. Today, this risks being the case with the Biden administration's refusal to admit that the Ukrainian counteroffensive has failed, and that it is therefore time to start developing a political strategy to end the fighting in Ukraine and the economic and political damage this is beginning to cause to vital U.S. allies in Europe.The last point about the U.S. record in Afghanistan should hardly need to be made, because it has been made over and over again since the 1950s by a whole succession of great American thinkers, including Reinhold Niebuhr, Hans Morgenthau, George Kennan, Richard Hofstadter and C. Vann Woodward. This is the tendency in the U.S. political establishment to colossally exaggerate both the malignance of the enemy of the moment, and the danger it poses to the United States. Instead of a Communist-led nationalist movement to reunify Vietnam, the Vietnamese Communists were portrayed as a force that could start toppling a row of "dominoes" that would end with Communist victory in France and Mexico. Instead of a tinpot regional dictator, Saddam Hussein became a nuclear menace to the U.S. homeland. The Taliban, an entirely Afghan force, supposedly had to be fought in Afghanistan so that we would not need to fight them in the United States. And today, U.S. officials in their rhetoric somehow manage to combine the supposed beliefs both that Russia is so weak that Ukraine can completely defeat the Russian army and catastrophically undermine the Russian state, and that Russia is so strong that if not defeated in Ukraine it will pose a mortal threat to NATO and freedom around the world.As Loren Baritz wrote in 1985 concerning the obliteration of the memory of Vietnam in the United States:"Our power, complacency, rigidity and ignorance have kept us from incorporating our Vietnam experience into the way we think about ourselves and the world… But there is no need to think unless there is doubt. Freed of doubt, we are freed of thought."It would be nice to think that on this anniversary, and faced with even greater dangers in Ukraine, the U.S. establishment and media will devote some serious thought to what happened in Afghanistan.

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

The Regional Economic Area in the Western Balkans is an initiative of the past years that has its beginnings with the Berlin Process in 2014. It is an initiative that aims to develop the Western Balkans economically, socially, and politically. The initiative aims to bring the Western Balkan economies closer to the EU, preparing them for future accession to the union. The economies are not yet ready to deal with the market forces the EU obliges to its members. It is why the EU came up with such a developmental initiative, a slightly different approach from what it followed with the Central Eastern European countries before the enlargement process of 2004. A slight comparative approach to Central-Eastern European countries' development before joining the European Union is covered too. The paper examines whether the regional economic area has the potential to drive economic growth in the region and to support the convergence of the region with the EU countries. It analyzes the positive effects and possible complications and provides conclusions, linking these to theories of economic integration too. It starts with an introduction of the literature regarding economic theories of integration, variables, and determinants of growth. It finds a relation between these and the main topic in the following section. Later, the main analysis provides a better understanding of the initiative, comprising essential aspects related to it. These cover the developments in trade between the countries, the business climate, movement of factors of production, education, research, technology, and innovation. Furthermore, it provides information on the particular sectors with growth potential in which the economies can focus to develop under the recommendations and investment funding of the EU and international organizations. It covers the policies that are necessary to be harmonized under the initiative, being those in investments, trade, or mobility. In the final section, the paper provides notable information on potential complications of the economic area and an analysis of the positive impact it presumes to produce in the region's political and economic development. A quantitative regression analysis delivers results that can be relevant to support the position of the paper in favor of the hypothesis. It includes the analysis of data for ten different economic variables, which I believe have been impacted by the reforms and policies of the initiative. Then it tries to find a correlation between these variables and the GDP growth rates of the region, aiming to possibly find out whether the economic area itself impacted the region's GDP growth rates in the past years, since when it started progressing with reforms and policies. Yet, this analysis cannot be entirely relevant, as the initiative is recent, and the timeframe does not allow the inclusion of a higher number of observations. The paper concludes the results of all sections, provides a clear summary and understanding of the most significant steps taken under the Regional Economic Area initiative, aiming for the results to favor the hypothesis. In the end, the study presents brief recommendations related to the shortcomings of the literature, research, and future techniques that scholars can apply to tackle this topic, aiding the literature of this paper. The paper aims to analyze how the regional economic area can assist in the development, growth, and more enhanced economic, political, and social cooperation of the countries in the region. At the same time, it tries to highlight the possible advantages and complications that the process itself can produce throughout its implementation. It aims on studying and finding the link between regional economic integration and economic growth for each of the countries, taking into consideration also the impact of enhanced political and social relations, as opposed by the REA. The research background is supported by present scientific research, articles, books on economic integration theories, as well as other sources of literature concerning the REA implementation process. The research comprises publicly expressed positions and opinions of three interviewees in the end. It analyzes information from articles published by EU institutions and describes funded investment projects that support mutual economic development. Furthermore, it analyzes the potential advantages and disadvantages of the REA initiative, prospects, and the support it provides for the region's convergence towards the EU. I finalize the paper with the quantitative results of my calculations. These comprise a regression equation on the correlation between the REA-related variables and the Gross Domestic Product (GDP) growth rate in the past years. The method used for the analysis is Pearson's correlation coefficient formula. To reach the objective and prove the hypothesis, qualitative and quantitative methods have been used. The research questions are: 1. How can the regional economic area assist in the development, growth, and more enhanced economic, political, and social cooperation of the countries in the Western Balkan region? 2. What are the possible advantages and complications that the REA initiative itself can produce throughout its implementation? 3. Is the REA going to prepare each of the countries for what they must expect in the more extended market of the EU in the future? Is there any possibility that this movement, designed and endorsed by all EU countries and highest representatives, can shift the focus of the WB countries and the EU itself away from the real objective of the Euro-Atlantic perspective of the region and its future accession to the EU? By focusing my approach on several theories, I argue that a large market can significantly promote economic growth by enhancing production through factors of production. I contend that market extension can produce a more comprehensive output of final goods and services through the presence of more enhanced factors of production. These are capital resources, more land in use, promotion of a more skilled labor force, the attraction of foreign investments, and technology advancement (share of knowledge and more information available in the market). The paper claims that a common regional market in the Western Balkans will have positive results and will prepare all the WB countries for a better approach to join the EU market in the future, as well as will assist in the region's convergence towards EU countries. The movement can determinedly support and foster economic development, growth, and more enhanced economic, political, and social cooperation between WB countries, as well as advocate the collaboration and increased trade of the region as a whole with the rest of the world, in particular the EU. It has the potential to present all economies as more attractive and more competitive in the global markets by favoring increased competitiveness and more extensive production output.

Issue 57.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1998. ; Review for Religious is a forum for shared reflection on the lived experience of all wbo find ~bat the church's rich heritages of spirituality support their personal and apostolic Christian lives~ Tge articles in the journal are meant to be inforntative, practical, bistorical, or inspirational, written front a tbeological or spiritual or sometimes canonical point of view. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-mouthly 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: FOI~PI~MA@SLU.I~I)U Manuscripts, hooks for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP 1150 Cedar Cove Road ¯ Henderson, NC 27536 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious - P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for informatiou on subscription rates. ~1998 Review for Religions Permission is herewith gra,ated to cop}, any ,naterial (articles, poe,ns, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the li,nits outlined in Sectious 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this per,nission 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 relig i ous Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial S~aff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. FischEr SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth.McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm J~an Read James and Joan Felling Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB Bis.hop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ David Werthmann CSSR ' Patricia Wittberg SC Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1998 ¯ VOLUME 57 ¯ NUMBER 6 contents 566 578 religious vocations Common Threads: Are We Weaving or Unraveling? Catherine Bertrand SSN~D surveys the terrain of apostolic religious life regarding attitudes and concerns about future membership. The Decline in Religious Vocations: ¯ A Weberian Perspective Shanti P~beyasingha cssR looks at effects of the "routinizing" of a foundational charism and then peers beyond them with a hope that embraces new risks in changed circumstances. 588 595 ,life in the spirit Spirithil Maturity John Blake More reflects on some of the qUalities of a spiritually mature person. A "Spiritual Turn" for Catholic Moral Theology Dennis J. Billy CSSR explores some of the ways in which a deeper understanding of the relationship between spirit and reason has =oncrete implications for the_future of moral theology. consecr.ated life 605 ~ Consecrated Life: Anointed with Joy Regis J. Armstrong OFMCap presents.ways of understanding joy and its intrinsic relationship to consecrated life. Review for Religious 622 The Future of Authority in the Religious Community John Carroll Futrell SJ describes what authority needs today as it exercises its ministry of making an apostolic community of love. spiritual limitations 628 Ground of Grace Marie Beha OSC uses the parable of ~he seed in looking at the limits we bring to the transforming action of grace. 640 Guigo I 'on Avoiding Suffering Kenneth C. Russell offers us some of the homely wisdom of an early Carthusian regarding the ensemble of this world and the ,next. departments 564 Prisms 650 Canonical Counsel: The Evangelical Counsel of Obedience: ConcreteExpression and Practical Consequences 656 Book Reviews 666 Indexes to Volume 57 November-Deconber 1998 prisms T imagery of the Holy Spirit as an iconographer"holds an age-old place in the tradition of the Eastern churches. The Hol~ Spirit is painting us in the image and likeness of Goff~ But, of course, we acknowledge Jesus Christ as THE image of the invisible God (Col 1:15). Consequently, in working with us as a painter does with an icon, the Holy Spirit continues throughout our life to bring out in us another face of Jesus, As we enter the Advent preparation for Christmas, this way of understanding our relationship to the S'pirit seems especially appropriate. The Holy Spirit is always laboring to bring to birth within us a fuller identity with Jesus. Our life can be understood as an Advent season in which we are being prepared over the span of our earthly life for the reality of our life-with-God 'forever in Christ. At the same time, from our meditation upon the Gospels and from our following in Christ's footsLeps, our daily life can be seen as one spent living in imitation of the hidden and public life of Jesus. With every stroke of his painter's brush, the Spirit inspires, encourages, and strengthens us to live "like Jesus," to live as Christ-ians. For the Spirit, according to Jesus' promise, is the one who "remains" with us, the one who will "be within" us (Jn 14:17). From the Gospel of St: John, we learn that the Holy Spirit is a gift to us--Jesus' "gift to us of "another Paraclete" (that is, one who functions just like Jesus him-self, who is our first Paraclete) or, perhaps stated with more theological precision, a gift from the "us" of Father and Son. Fumblingly struggling to say something about Review for Religious the identity and life of our triune God, our theological tradition at times expresses it in this way: The Father gives himself over fully to the Son, and the Son gives himself over fully to the Father, and the fullness of the Love shared between them is a Gift-Person, a Love-Person. As a result, our Trinitarian God is caught up in a life of relationship, of total giving, of total sharing--a God who is Love, a God who is all Gift. The Spirit, whose very relational identity within the Trinity is Gift and Love, plays this same role in God's outreach to cre-ation- for example, the imagery of the brooding of Spirit over the waters of creation and the Spirit's overshadowing of Mary in the' an~aunciation scene. From revelation and from our experi-ence, we know that God relates to us through all of creation as "gifts"--gifts that are meant to help us to know, to love, and to serve God by our proper appreciation and use of these gifts. God relates to us through Jesus as gift of identity with us as human. jesus is called the new Adam because we human beings in the Jesus-Gift have .become truly new and original. God relates to us in baptism, confirmation, and all the sacraments and sacramentals of our Christian life in the gift of the one we~call the Holy Spirit. The process of our growing in grace or~ as the Eastern churches say it more daringly, the process of our divinization continues as God's Spirit-Gift stays with us. We CFiristians, made newly human in Christ, have come to understand God in a new and original way: a triune God, a Gift-God, a God of Love. At Christmas, then, we see again, with eyes of faith, God's gift of identity with us through Jesus. Year after year, all the won-der of this gift seen and remembered as a baby fills the heights and depths of our soul. But, in this year dedicated to the Spirit, we recall anew, especially in this Christmas season, how much the Holy Spirit--God-Gi~---keeps giving us the way to be Christ for our times. We pray to the Spirit to bring forth more fully in us the icon of Jesus each of us is created to be--~.made in the image and likeness of God. David L. Fleming SJ That the Spirit paint his icon more fully across the fabric of your life is the Chris~as wish fro,. all of us on the staff of Review for Religious. .November-Dece~ltber 1998 religious vocations CATHERINE BERTRAND Common Threads: -,Are We Weaving or Unraveling? In the last year, as I have traveled nationally and interna-tionally, tit has become clear that certain "threads" are shared, by a considerable number of congregations of women and men religious, especially those that describe themselves as active or apostolic. This article, examining some of these "threads," asking some questions, and offer-ing some answers, is not the last word. There are no sweeping statements to capture the experience of every religious. Rather, I hope to generate further discussion among congregational members as they together examine their own reality and explore what their own future might look like. Many active or apostolic congregations were founded one or two hundred years ago in .,response to particular ministerial needs in various parts of the world. The found, ing purpose often had'more to do with ministry than with a particular spirituality or rule. These congregations, with some help from Vatican Council II, are struggling with the articulation of their charisms and the interpretation of their founding purpose in light of today's church and world. This has often caused the various congregations to remark more' similarities than differences among them- Catherine Bertrand SSND is executive director of the National Religious Vocation Conference (5420 South Cornell Avenue, Suite 105; Chicago, Illinois 60615). Her article was first pub-lished in its quarterly journal, Horizon. Review for Religious" selves, Given this observation, what are some of the common threads evident in these congregations as they look toward, the future? Deepest Longings , Sociologists have noted that the two unmet desires of our age, the deepest longings expressed to~tay by peopl~ of all ages, are for.spirituality and for a sense of belonging. Vocation ministers in both. women's 'and men's congregations can validate these find-ings in their work with potential candidates. Consistently those considering religious life express their reasons as having to do ,with a longing for God and a desire for community life. Meanwhile, longtime members of these congregations seem to be asking themselves whether this in fact 4s .what religious are about, or what their life has to offer today. A thread common to English-spea.king countries worldwide is discussion of the need to take another look at quality community life. Some religious will contend that it is yet to be discovered what that means for active/apostolic congregations whose very foundation and history were overshadowed and strongly influ-enced by monastic rules and traditions. Be that as it may, not only are new members and potential candidates asking for quality com-mon life, but longtime members as well are saying they need to take another look at this. My guess would be that there are as many ideas of what community life could look like as there are people discussing it. There is no going back to what was, although some members ~ would desire that: Others, who have experienced community life in the past as uniformity and sameness, fear that this could become the case again. Some feel that"the struggle to be in a ministry that Is satisfying and in a living situation that does not take every ounce of energy has been long in coming: "Leave it alone!" Others, especially those who entered after Vatican 11,,came because of the common life and shared ministry, and continue to seek ways to have that happen. Some believe community can happen only under one roof. Others believe that such a configuration of community has nothing to do with the direction for the future. Some question~the value of vowed membership, while the expe-rience of others tells them that only when there is clarity about vowed membership does any other way of associating make sense. November-Decentber 1998 Bertrand ¯ Common Threads Although some oflthese concerns differ.in various communities, and may take on different nuances in men's and women's con-gregations, the common threads, the similar questions, are there. Fundamental Changes and Different Realities Over recent years, some definite realities in religious life have given community.life a whole new look. The following paragraphs attempt to describe some of those changes. Space, or how space is regarded, has changed how ~relikious live in community. Many local communities ofwomen'~ congre-gations suffer from limited living space. For a variety of reasons, including some very healthy ones, there.has been a move to smaller living spaces, with fewer people. Unfortunately, religious often end: 'up--mostly for economic reasons--in crowded places with little common space beyond their own bedrooms. There is no room for guest, s, potential new members, or even one's own community members. There is no space, for common prayer, and no room to welc0m~e groups of guests. Religious congregations are not family; they al:e communities of adults; for whom the family model is not helpful. To live simply does not necessarily mean that there can be .no space. Although men's communities may have more space, rJaey seem to be challenged to look at how eas-ily the members can become independent, developing a board-ing- house mentality. Governance, too, has changed how religious live together. Many local commtinities have been trying a more circular model of leadership wherein various responsibilities of leadership are shared. Men's communities seem to 'be less dialogic, to function more expeditiously. No form of governance, however, seems to go without challenge, and no one model is ideal. , Age has also made a difference in how religious live together and ~relate to each other. There are more older members, and fewer new ones. The tendency to settle in bectmes stronger unless deliberate efforts fire made to retain vitality, ' which has little to do with.,age. New members help a community to keep growing and changing. Difference in community size calls for different skills. The abil-ity to b~ self-discl6sing is critical. Where it may once have been considered the. greatest of virtues to be silent, now it is crucial in community to be able to articulate one's thoughts and feelings in Review for Religious an appropriate manner. The smaller the group, the more essen-tial to have healthy members who are able to enter into this kind of sharing. Professionalism and ministry demands certainly affect community life today. Because urgent needs demand responses and because mission is the ov~rriding concern for many religious congrega-tions, this is where most time and energy are spent. The nature of ministry, especially with many women religious now in parish settings, places new demands on quality time in community. Self-Definition Countless efforts among religious focus on the identity and image of religious today: who religious are and what they are about. It appears that often religious define themselves by the work(s) they do. They seem to fall sho~rt when it comes to know-ing how to share some of the other elements of their lives that grow out of the communal dimension: Is' there clarity about those essential elements? Are the spiritual and communal elements of their lives seen as having the power to attract others, not just to new vowed membership, :but also to the varibus ways people can be in part-nership with religious 4ongregations? To religious who are concerned that potential candidates seem to focus only on God and com-munity and have little Or no sense of mission, I offer this thread. From interviewing and assessing candidates for priesthood and religious life, I have found, that among them service is a given. They deeply desire to be of service~ They may not always understand how to direct that generosity within a particular congregation, but what draws them to religious life is a unique context in which to offer service. Most candidates come assuming that Jesus, the Eucharist, and a link to the universal church are foundational to religious lif~. The community they seek is not a warm nest or surrogate family, but a group that will help them serve in a way that they could'not do alone. New members ,help a community to keep growing and changing, What Attracts Young Adults When two hundred young' adults from all over the United November-December 1998 Bertrand ¯ Common Threads States joined more than five hundred vocation directors at the 1996 National Convocation of religious vocation ministers, they spoke to the questions of what was attractive and unattractive . about religious life today. On their application forms they were asked to describe any of their .current involvements in volunteer work, paid ministry, civic activities, and so~forth.Their responses were both amazing and impressive. The candidates that religious congregations would hope to attract are already engaged in ser-vice. They told us that ministry alone will not draw people to religious life. They come because of the community context in which the ministry is situated. They also see community life as happening under one roof. Many times they have no clear idea of w~hat they are asking for When they speaLof their desire for com, munity, but they clearly do not envision it as a "let's get together now and then" experience. Another thread I see in numerous congregations is the sincere desire of many religious to respond to that desire expressed by young people. Most congregations want to have a future and therefore are serious about attracting new members. A thread that is becoming more common in many congregations is being spun in conversations about being local communities of hospi-tality. Much as congregations would like it, this phrase does not describe every local community. Newer members are~well aware of struggles to find suitable, community situations to live in, Longtime members, too, know all too well thee feeling of panic when it comes to finding a local community upon Changing min-istry locations. Some congregations are creatively encouraging some of~their most "life-giving" members to consider housing situations that would allow for an extra room so that communities of hospitality become realities. These delibera~te efforts by some are invitations to all congregational members to take seriously the responsibil- -ity for hospitality. Community as Ministry Religious take seriously their commitment to ministry. Who can argue with that? But is mission understood as being synony-mous with the work they do? I 15elieve that one of the strongest sections of Vita consecrata deals with this very question. It states that community life plays a fundamental role in the spiritual jour- Review for Religious ney of religious, both for their constant renewal and for the full accomplishment of their mission In the world: [The church] wishes to hold up before the world the exam-ple of communities in which solitude is overcome through concern for one another, in which communication inspires in everyone a sense of shared responsibility, and in which wounds are healed throu~gh forgiveness and each person's commitment'to communion is strengthened. The life of communion in fact "becomes a sign for all the world and a compelling force that leads people to faith in Christ . in this way communion leads to mission and itself becomes mission"; indeed, "communion begets communion: In' essen~.~e it is a communion that is missionary." (§§45-46) Do religious believe that community life itself is key to the mission and their ministries? For active/apostolic congregations it seems to be an ongoing struggle. How do congregations arid individuals integrate or balance that healthy or not-so-healthy tension between ministry and community life? Have religious come to define active/apostolic religious life only by works, and often very individualized ministries at that? In many ministry situations there may b~ only one person of a particular congregation on the scene. A developing scenario seems to be that it is in ministry that one receives the greatest affirmation and.the deepest satisfaction, that one's affective needs are met, and that the most creative energy arises. This poses a sharp contrast to the less than life,giving local community situa-tion that religious often describe. Another dimension in this sce-nario is that today religious~ have less knowledge about or understanding of each other's ministries and therefore have fewer opportunities, to be supportive and affirming, ~ ~" : Another thread deserving further consideration is the amount of time and energy given to ministry. I have heard younger, newly professed religious comment that they came from homes where they were aware that everything, including family, always came second to their parents' dareers. They are often surprised to find that in religious life they have that same sense. They seem to respond in one of two ways. Either they quickly fal.1 into the work mode, or they choose to leave. On one occasion a speaker address-ing an audience of religious suggested that, if a congregation is serious about new membership, it may need to reevaluate its min-isterial commitments. Even to think about it brought an audible gasp from the audience. November-December 1998 Bertrand ~ Common Threads Often religious try to accomplish with fewer people what was once done by many more people. No doubt women and men reli-gious are responding to urgent needs in our church and world in creative and heroic ways. Many times, it seems, the very people who top the list as wonderful community members are also the most overextended in ministry. Where is the balance in all of this? What choices are congregations making in addressing these challenges, not just f~or the sake of new members, but for the sake of present membership? . . Some congregations are responding by honestly saying to each other and to others that they prefer to go onliving and working just as they are. Other congregations see a need for some changes. I have attempted to name some of the common reali-ties in religious life that have had an impact on community life. These include models of governance, ways of praying,' living space, aging members, and ministry demands. I would contend that, to the extent that realities in religious life have changed, religious are. invited to develop new skills for living contemporary religious life, giving new shape to religious community life. Skills Needed What are some of the skills to be considered?~ The following list is neither definitive nor exhaustive, but I offer it as a help toward further consideration and dialogue: ' ¯ The need for self-disclosure heads the list, in part because this element of religious life has changed radically in recent years. The change affects not only how one,share~ in dialogue, but also how one participates in prayer with one or more persons. There is an increased need both for sharing and for keeping a healthy sense of boundaries. . ¯ Skills for other-centeredness are key. It is no small challenge to be able to enter into the reality of another, to be generous, to listen. It means taking time for people and situations in commu-nity that may not always be one's first choice of how to use time and energy. It may mean not allowing ministry demands to always come first. ¯ Hospitality As an "in" word these days, but in some situa~- tions it may be as basic as developing social and conversational skills that make life better as occasions arise for religious to invite others into their homes and into their lives. This is particularly key Review for Religious in attracting new members. People cannot choose or ~upport what they do not know, unders(and, or experience. ¯ Skills for healthy sexuality and intimacy are critical elements in the life of any person, and these impact,community life. They affect the way individual religious express who they are, how "at home" they might be as loving, intimate, sexual human beings. They assist religious in having .a sense of self that can support o~hers in their celibate choice and can help still others under-stand celibacy as a viable option. A healthy sexuality includes developing friendsl~ips within and outside community life. It also involves doing whatever is necessary to be a physically and psy-chologically healthy person, someone with whom others would like to share community. ¯ A healthy spirituality is another key element in quality com-munity life, having both a communal and individual dimension. It means looking for ways to be supportive of the spiritual life of others in community, participating in the liturgical life of the church, and expressing the shared spirituality of a particular con-gregation. It also means finding ways to participate in the ongo-ing revelation of God through individuals and in community. ¯ Skills for shared living involve negotiating living space, being attentive to the little .things that can make or break community liv-ing, These skills make it possible for religious to choose to live with one or more fellow religious when it would be easier to live alone, or they may suggest ways of creatively sharing life with others if particular circumstances' demand living alone for a time. They help one to be open to sharing life with a variety of people, in a variety of ways, ways that are life-giving, not death-dealing. ¯ To be attentive to ongoing learning and enrichment demands that one strive to be updated about religious life, spirituality, the, ology, and so forth, in: addition to fulfilling~"professional" demands for ongoing education. It also means being attentive to one's development as an "interesting" person who can contribute.to community discussions and learning. It means taking time for enrichment, alone and with others. ¯ Friendship in community also involves skills, though no one can make friendship happen. One must look for ways to come to know the people .with whom one shares life, and must do whatever one can to create a community to.which people want to come home. Friendship skills include being able ~nd willing to cele-brate people .and events 4n the company of others. November-December 1998 Bertrand ¯ Common Threads ¯ Leadership ski'lls need to be nurtured in every community member even though such skills will be expressed in many dif-ferent ways on a variety of levels. These skills include taking indi-vidual responsibility within a community of adults, having a voice and being honest and up-front in using that voice for the good of the whole, getting involved in the workings of the congregation ~3n the local level and beyond, and keeping actively in touch with congregational leaders. ¯ Conflict-management skills invite the convictitn that each person is worth the time it~takes to live together well. They involve being honest as well as kind with feedback, being account-able for any effort or lack of effort at being a positive presence in a community. Conflict management calls for a healthy sense of self that allows one to deal with issues, not destroy persons. These are some skills that seem key to living contemporary community life. Some Other Threads .There continue to be questions. Are religious setting them-selves up for failure,and disappointment in taking another look at quality community life, another look at that particular thread? Is this a challenge beyond them? No one can make 'a significant responge alone, not the. congregational leader or any individual member, not a new member or potential candidate, not the voca-tion director. A significant response requires the efforts of as man, y as possible--many interwoven threads. There are people among us who lack either the desire, the aptitude, or both for living community life in this day and age. There are ministerial situations that demand different ways of being community. But in many congregations a substantial group of peo-ple have both the desire and the aptitude to make co.mmunity life work, even under one roof. Community life takes time and energy. There 'is no way around that, even in the best-case scenarios. If congregations want the future to be different, some radical decisions must be made in the present-'if not always big deci-sions, then some smaller ones that are no less radical: These are the ones that touch the day-to-day living of the entire community. How willing am I to be "inconvenienced" for the sake of our future, ~for the sake of not just new members, but also present members? This question is screaming for anoanswer.from indi=' Review for Religious vidual religious and from congregations. The answer may mean reclaiming community as ministry, community as mission. The final thread I will touch upon is perhaps stating the obvi-ous. Vocation ministers, who are some of the most hopeful peo-ple around, indidate time and again that in their work the greatest challenge 4s their own congregational members' lack of aware-ness and response. They do not assume ill will, for they see that people are very busy, involved in many things. How, then, are communitymembers to be made more alert to ways of promot-ing vocations? Congregational leaders are critical players 'in these efforts, b~t congregational members are no less important. Do we pas-sionately desire another generation of religious for the sake of God's people? Are we willing to invite new generations to consider religious life as a viable option, or by our silence have we made the decision for them? The responses to these questions cannot be postponed, to be considered at some other time, Our only time is ,' Questions for Individuals and Communities Something to do now is raise some of the ,following questions in the privacy of your o~n mind and heart--but also to raise them in discussion with other religious in your own congregation, in your own local community, or in any number of other settings.,~ Skills for Self-disclosure What in your life indicates that you have a sense of legitimate boundaries, your own and those of others? What enables .you to express your thoughts and feelings in dialogue and in faith shar-ing? How do you nurture mental and emotional health that allows you to be self-disclosing? How do yob develop healthy self-esteem, self-confidence that allows you to share yourself with others? What gives you the sense that others enjoy being with you? Skills for Other-cehteredness How do you balance self-maintenance with generous pres-ence and service? What gets most attention and energy in your local community? How do you foster local' community life that reaches beyond itself?. What enables you to enter into the re~ility of another? How do you present religious life as a viable option Noventber-Decentber 1998 Bertrand ¯ Common Threads for someone else? How do you share ministry with each other, even if you are in different settings? What sharpens your ability to be a good listener? Skills four Hospitality What do you do to develop social and conversational skills? How are you willing to be inconvenienced for the sake of wel-coming others? What do you do to encourage, potential new mem-bers and to invite them, and others as well, into yo~ur life and into your home? How do you cope with diversit'v? What prevents you at times from being hospitable and welcoming? Skills/:or Healthy Sexuality and lntimaey How would someone, describe your outlook on life? What helps you .to be happy and hopeful? How do you express that sense? How do. you express your celibate choice? How do you describe it? How are you generative in your celibate choice?. What steps do you take to develop and sustain healthy friendships? How does the way you live speak to health and wholeness? Skills for a Healthy Spirituality How :are you faithful to personal and communal'prayer? What other elements of your life indicate a seritusness about your rela-tionship with God? How do you participate in the liturgical life of the church? How does your prayer life reflect the .spirituality of your congregation? How does your spiritual life reflect and support a concern for others? ~ Skills for Shared Living How does the shared living space where you live facilitate quality community life? When are you~generous or territorial in your useof common space and, goods? How are you attentive to the "litde things" that can cause friction or tranquillity in a shared living space? How willing, are you to negotiate, and sometimes settle for conditions that are not to your liking? The persons you live with--what keeps your expectations of them realistic? Skills fo, r Ongoing Learning and Enrichment ~ What steps do you take to keep updated regarding religious-life trends, spirituality, theology? How do you make time for cur-rent reading, awareness of world issues, which can be shared in Review for Religious community? What do you do for enrichment and leisure, indi-vidually and as a local community? What are some of the best ways to "waste time" together? Skills for Friendship in Community What helps you to come to know and appreciate the people with whom you share community life? How do you reflect an openness to potential friendship in community without demand-ing it? What about you would give other people a desire to live in community with you? What about local community makes it a situation to which you want to come home? How do you make choices for quality community time in the face of ministerial demands? How do you celebrate people and events in your local community? How do you share your family and friends with your congregation? How do you give yourself and others a sense of freedom in community relationships? Skills for Leadership What is the role and understanding of leadership in your local community? How do you participate in those responsibilities? What is your expectation of those in congregational leadership in relating to local communities? In what ways do you take ini-tiative in your local community? Sk(lls for Conflict Management , What helps you to be honest and up-front in dealing with conflict in community? How do you give helpful feedback to peers, and how, do you receive it from them? To whom do you hold yourself accountable for trying to live quality community life? For you, what elements of local community can become sources of conflict? What are the most effective ways for you to resolve conflict in your local community? Are you, are we, weaving or unraveling? November-December 1998 SHANTI ABEYASINGHA The Decline in Religious Vocations: : ,A Weberian Perspective y-783 _ religious life, that many who join religious congregations give up halfway, and that some leave even after final profession are things that merit inquiry. For many a religious congregation, vocation questions and vocation promotion are top priorities. A superior of a women's religious congregation told me that she and the sis-ters were trying desperately to get young girls to join because comphter statistics had shown that the congregation would die out if a hundred or more new persons did not come in every year. Deaths each year were outnumbering the entrants, and, accord= ingly, aging.itself had become a more serious~problem too. There are instances where some congregations in the West have come to Asia, Africa, and Latin America (places with more .vocations) in search of candidates. The phenomenon of men;'and women religious coming from the West to work as missionaries also seems to be a thing of the past. In fact, the reverse process seems to be taking place. Religious congregations with branches in Asia, Africa, and Latin America are asking them to come up with volunteers for missionary work in other lands. These instances and others would seem to indicate that religious life is in disarray. Shanti Abeyasingha CSSR has held administrative positions in his order, has done socioeconomic development work in Sri Lanka, and has con-ducted retreats and missions in Sri Lanka, India, and Malaysia. His address is: Redemptorists, Santa Maria; George E. de Silva Mawatha; Kandy, 20000; Sri Lanka. Review for Religious The interesting thing, however, is that the problem of a lack of vocations, which many modern-day religious congregations are facing, was seldom an issue for the founders and foundresses ofireligious congregations~ They do not stem to have had diffi-culty getting people to join their ranks. As their histories often tell us, .people were attracted to the particular work they started and to their commitment and deilication. Many a °person was ready to give up everything and join them. God's Fidelity and Religious Congregations' Continued Existence The Bible speaks again and again about the faithfulness of God. Evenothough we humans are unfaithful, God is shown as the one who is ever faithful to his pr~mises. Along with his faith-fulness, his caring love is always there, ever ready to come to our aid. This' love is brought out clearly in the Exodus experience. The words "I have seen the affliction of my people who are in Egypt, and have heard their cry 'because of their taskmasters; I know their suffering, and I have comedown to deliver them" (Ex 3:7- 8) expresses it all. vWhen God makes his covenant with the Israelites at Mount Sinai, the people experience and~ understand their God precisely as one who always intervenes on their behalf to alleviate suffering and oppressiom All through human history we encounter human suffering and misery. These are vestiges df sin and .are manifest in the self-ishness of persons who do not care 'for their brothers and sisters. God continues to care for these unfortunate persons all through history. He continues to prove his faithfulness .and concern by raising up women and men who dedicate their lives in the ser-vice of people whom others oppress or ignore and even history forgets. These charismatic personalities emerge especially in moments of, crisis and,decadeffce in society. They, like Moses, are inspired to do God's bidding on behalf of his people. They are in line'with ~the prophets, who denounced oppression while at the same time announcing to the people the good news of liberation and deliverance. In the line of the prophets, these founders of congregations interpreted the signs of the times and responded vigorously. They highlighted something ~hat answered a need in society. They manifested through their actions the faith~lness andthe ¯ November-DecembD" 1998 L -79 Abeyasingba * The Decline in Religious Vocations caring presence of God as he continues to come down and deliver his people from their bondage. Here we have the actual reason for the beginning and the continued exi~stence of religious congre-gations, namely, t~o be extensions of God's presence in the world. The "Routinization" of a charism Max Weber has something to say about such charismatic lead-ers. He says that charismatic leaders are creative and do things that are not in line with the normal run of things in society. He is quick to add, however, that such charismatic leaders do not last. They are a passing phenomenon in society. They appear at cer-tain times in history to answer particular needs of the time. In the course of time, especially after the death of the charismatic leader, his or her original insight becomes traditi~nalized or ratio-nalized or both.~ Weber adds: "It is only in the initial stages, and so long as the charismatic leader acts in a way which is completely outside every day social organization, that it is possible for his followers to live communistically in a community of faith and enthusiasm.''2 Thus, according to Weber, it is only a question of time before the initial charism of the leader becomes "routinized.''3 Usually this takes place after his or her death. In this transformation into a permanent routine structure, one of the first things altered is the anti-economic character of the original charisma.4The followers pursue security and economic stability (as part of security) to. make up for the absence of the founder. Everyday needs and the ordi-nary details of administration necessitate such an adaptation. This process took place even in the church after the death of the Lord Jesus Christ. With routinization comes an attempt to preserve the leader's thought and way of life. Normally this takes the form of pre-serving his or her letters, instructions,- documents, and sayings, along with eyewitness reports, accounts from the~first companions, and so on. Guidelines are set for the training of future followers. These are usually spelled out in documents such as rules, consti-tutions, and statutes, which are updated from time to time by general chapters and by special commissions appointed by them. The result is a system of organization different from that which existed during the time of the charismatic leader. During the leader's lifetime, the way of making decisions, the way of act- Review for Religious ing, and in short the whole way the group functioned could be said to have been somewhat arbitrary and unpredictable. There was no formal or well-defined way of doing a particular thing. The leader's personality was the key factor, and it overshadowed what-ever structures and procedures were already in place, regarding the community and its mission. Max Weber says that "the routinization of charisma also takes the form of the appropriation of powers of control and of eco-nomic advantages by the followers,or disciples and of regulation of the recruitment of these groups.''5 In other words, the rou-tinization process in a congregation includes the manner and the basis of choosing leaders, the training or tests of eligibility of the new recruits, the way of governing the members, their rights and duties, and so on.6 Also, it is very much akin to the adaptation that constantly takes place in economic life--for the economy is on~ of the principal and continually operating forces in everyday life. In the whole question of routinization, the economic condi-tions play a leading role'and do not constitute merely a dependent variable.7 Bureaucratic Org.anization and Religious Life From the foregoing it will be clear that accompanying the whole process of the routinization of a charism is the attempt to coordinate activities. Weber calls this the process of rationaliza-tion or the process of bureaucratic organizatipn. He goes on to say that this is a distinctive mark of the modern era. Bureaucracy has shaped modern politics, the modern economy, modern technol'- ogy, and modern church life and religious life too. Max Weber considered the bureaucratic organization to be technically supe-rior to all other forms of administration. He says' also that only through this device, namely bureaucracy, has large-scale planning of the modern state and the modern economy become possible,s The main characteristics of a bureaucratic organization are: ¯ It is organized according to rational principles: rules, con-stitutions, and statutes. (This is something that developed in religious congregations.) ¯ The offices are ranked in a hierarchical order. (Religious congregations, too, have a hierarchical order, that is, gen-eral, his or her consulto~rs, the different secretariats, provin-cials, vice-provincials, and so on.) Novetttber-December 1998 Abeyasingba * The Decline in Religious Vocations Efficiency has hhd the effect of making religious congregations inefficient in answering the changed needs of the times. ¯ The operations (of offices) are characterized by imper-sonal rules. (The various offices in religi~ous congregations, too, have clearly defiiaed procedures.) ¯ The members are governed by methodical allocation of areas of jurisdiction.(Today the members of religious con-gregations fire allocdted 'into provinces, vice-provinces, regions, and so on.) ¯ Appointments to offices are generally made according to specialized qualifications. Those who can fit into the bureaucratic administrative set-up are the ones who are normally considered for s~h offices. Just as bureaucracy has its advantages, it also has its draw-backs. Its very strengths are also its weaknesses. Because of its rationalized organization, bureaucracy sometimes becomes unwieldy and even stultifying in dealing with individual cases. Modern rationalized and bureaucratized systems find themselves incapable of dealing with particularities. In other words, the individual's initiative and creativity are submerged under a deluge of reasons that are derived mechanically from the 0 code of behavior.~° Depersonalization is another result of bureaucratization. The organization seems to take precedence over the personhood of the individual." In the last analysis, although bureaucratization and rationalization may have increased the efficiency of the o.r, ga: nization, this very efficiency threatefis to dehumanize its ere-ators. 12 In such a setup, 0there is little room for charismatic personalities to emerge. , From what has been said, one sees the implications of bureau-cratization for the functioning~of religious life. While on the one hand it has organized and systematized administration, on the other hand it has stifled some new initiatives and new thinking. Persons who propose changes in hitherto :accepted ways of doing things could very well find themselves isolated or labeled rebel-lious or considered excrescences that need to be removed because they are a hindrance to the smooth running of the ihstitute. Worse still would be the sad refility of some finding themselves outside the institute because their ideas do not find acceptance with the Review for Religious administration. To put it in another way,. this very efficiency has had the effect of making religious congregations inefficient in answering the changed conditions and changed needs of the times. Understanding Vatican II's Renewal Guidelines Something that should not be forgotten is that the intention of these charismatic leaders was to answer particular needs in society. They were answering a local need. What took priority was the need of the people, not the organization of a group with rules and. regulations. Only much later, as numbers increased and in some cases lived far from the original local area, did the group give ,special attention to its own formation. This fact should be kept in mind when we speak of the inspiration of the founder or foundress. As has been explained, with the death of the charismatic ,leader, the routinization process took. over,' bringing .to the now more organized institute a corresponding sense of securityoand stability ,among the members. This in turn created a certain insen-sitivity to the actual needs of the people, espec!ally the poor. It is in this context that one has to understand the appeal made by the Second Vatican Council: The appropriate renewal of religious life involves two simul-taneous pr%cesses: (I) a continuous return to the sources ~ 9f all Christian life and to the original inspiration b~hind a given community and (2) an adjustment of the community to the changed conditions of the times. Clearly, the council envisaged two simultaneous processes for the renewal of religious life. It went on to enumerat.e certain princi-ples in accord with which such renewal was to proceed: to follow Christ, to participate in the life of the church, to seek to identify the institute's,particular character and purpose, and to be aware of contemporary human conditions and of the needs of the church. Renewal in the Context of Max Weber's Routinization With such an impetus given by the council, one could have noticed certain initiatives taken by various communities. Many congregations set up commissions to study their roots, going into the history of their founding inspirations. General chapters made it their chief objective to redraft their respective rules and con- Novonber-Dece~nber 1998 Abeyasingba * The Decline in Religious Vocations stitutions according to the mind and spirit of the documents of the Second Vatican Council. That the various congregations made a sincere effort to adjust themselves to the changed conditions of the times cannot be denied. In the renewed constitutions one could notice that provision was made for individual initiatives. Furthermore, units of the congregation in various countries were given the freedom to adapt and change according to their par-ticular situation. These were praiseworthy changes indeed, which by and large were done after a general consultation of all the members. One could not help noticing, however, that the final outcome was worked out within a bureaucratic setup.which was hierarchical in its composition. Any new efforts were to be tried out within a certain organizational framework of the congregation. Furthermore, the starting point of such ventures was a position of economic security. This meant that the inSecurity, the uncertainty. the risk--very much a part of the life and experience of the fouflders when they first set out to answer the need of the hour!- was not there. Also~ the Vatican Council's guidelines for adjusting the com-munity to the changed conditions of the times were not followed fully. There was a general move towards a more simple lifestyle. Institutes made changes in their religious garb, in food customs, in their cloister regulations, and so forth. There was, however, no sign of a change of structures in keeping with what the founders had had during their lifetime. Changes took place only within confines that ensured that the boat would not be rocked too much. It had to be so, inasmuch as the process of roudnization was firmly entrenched. Adjusting to the changed co.n.ditions of the times (at the coun-cil's direction) was, then, not an easy task. In practical terms, con-gregations, in spite of all their goodwill and efforts to be relevant in the present day, found themselves up against a bureaucratic system incapable of providing room for the charismatic figures who might have renewed them by making the necessary paradigm shifts. By and large this could be attributed to the routinization of the charism that religious congregations underwent after the death of their founders. As a result, the religious-life renewal that the council proposed could not be realistically achieved. If the needs of people in the various areas had been met, there would have been no dearth of vocations in the religious congregation. In Review.for Religious other words, there is no need for advertising a product that is selling and is in demand in the market. Efficiency or Effectiveness ~Max Weber's sociological observations, when applied to a reli-gious institute, do indeed seem to throw some light on the reasons for the'almost universal decline in religious vocations. As long as a bureaucratic way of life governs religious congregations, they will almost always manifest a certain efficiency in whatever work they do. The work, however, ma3i not be effective, for such a system of administration does not always respond in a vigorously prophetic manner to the urgent and crying needs of the people. ' The history of the church shows that ~hange has often come from areas off the beaten track, where some indi-viduals had found a way for themselves. In modern religious cong.regations, organized in the way they are, it is almost impossible to accommodate such trailblazing elements. It can be noted historically that only the dark eras of history witness the emergence of new religious congregations. Critical times almost always bring about a breakdown of existing systems, but it is .in these chaotic and confusing situations that charismatic per-sonalities seem to apEear out of nowhere. The late Mother Teresa's Missionaries of:Charity were such a response to a chaotic situation in one of the most populated and crowded' cities in the-world, Calcutta. Her prophetic voice of compassion and kindness to the poorest of the poor cut through such barriers as caste, religion, and class. Her living witness and work proclaimed to all people the dignity of each and every per-son, which a world had lost sight of in its quest for power and wealth. Her response had a universal and global character. Her message is clear, something that religious congregations could ponder as they rethink their charisms while they and the world step into the 21 st century. The decline in religious vocations is not an entirely negative thing. A search through the crisis will make us see the reasons It is in chaotic and confusing situations that charismatic personalities seem to appear out of nowhere. L5"_S.5"__ Noventber-December 1998 Abeyasingba ¯ The Decline in Religious Vocations why such a situation has come to pass. Instead of looking at pres-ent- day confusion with tunnel vision, one should see it in.a global perspective and as a precursor of growth. Mother Teresa's e~tam-pie could help towards such a rethinking. So also could the obser-vations made by Max Weber. They can facilitate taking stock and analyzing the present situation of religious congregations. From thls starting point religious congregations could proceed to make the drawbacks and weaknesses that are found in current struc-tures irrelevant. They could make themselves ready to face the challenges of tomorrow. Weber's.Ansights, by helping us learn the truth about ourselves, can ready us to proceed to generatiye and creative actions. They can challenge us to do some honest and humble soul searching about our present situation, In St. Paul's words (2 Co 12:10), "When I am weak, then Iam strong." Notes l Max Weber, The Theory of Social and Economic Organizqtion, trans. A.R. Henderson and Talcott Parsons (U.K.: William Hodge~ and Company, 1947), p. 334. :2 Weber, Theory, p. 337. 3 "Routinization" is Max Weber's term for the phenomenon of an original idea (here, that of the charismatic leader) becoming organized a~d conceptualized in the course of time. This is the result~of the interpret-ing, analyzing,, rationalizing, and so forth that take place when congre-gations study the writings of their founders, the accounts, of' their immediate companions and a.ssociates, the recollections of others Eho knew them, and so forth. 4 In their initial insight, almost all charismatic leaders are anti-eco~ nomic; they set t~p almost no economic system for collecting or raising funds. It is the personali.ty of the leaders that attracts others~' td them and also brings in donations and gifts. The aim of charism~itic le'aders is to achieve a special goal (filling a need of the society at that time, usually serving the poor), not to meet their own day-to-day needs. SWeber, Theory, p. 337. 6 The original basis of recruitment was the founders' personal charism. A .charism is something that can only be ;'awakened" and ".tested," not something that can be taught and learned. Novitiates arid houses of for° marion, however, tend to assume a teaching stance. See W~eber, Theory, pp. 337-338. 7 Weber, Theory, p. 342. s When religious congregations spread beyond their original geo-~ graphical area and the routinization process had been set in motion, there was no preventing a bureaucratic organization. Review for Religious o Lewis A. Coser, Masters of Sociological Thought: Ideas in Historical and Social Context (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1971), pp. 230- 231. 10 Reinhard Bendix, Max Weber, An Intellectual Portrait (Garden City, N Y.: Doubleday, 1960), p. 421. ~ Bendix, pp. 421-422. 12 Coser, Masters, pp. 231-232. ,3 Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life (Perfectae caritatis), §2. the departed say we are not dead see ohr faces hear ohr voices when you leadt expect like neighbors visitihg unhnnounced we are'some~lace ~ withih view within earshot like others in your house but we are, at liberty to come and go without weight.or circumscription like winds in harp strings like real answers to your real questions Avis Kunca Kubick Novetttber-Decetttber 1998 JOHN BLAKE MORE Spiritual Maturity ife.in the spirit Reading my first Thomas Merton book back in my early twenties, I came across the phrase "spiritual maturity," an expression that delighted and fascinated me even though I had no clue of what it was designed to express. I won-dered about it for several months and even reflected on its possible meaning, but then it receded into the less acces-sible regions of my consciousness and enjoyed untroubled slumber for some time. But not forever. Over the years, as I have become more life-mature and more di'scernibly chronologically mature, the phrase "spiritual matur!ty" has--through reading, conversation, and simple observa-tion- returned to my sight and consciousness many times, to haunt me but also to stimulate me to explore further its possible meanings and its probable connections to every-day life. What would.a spiritually mature person look like or act like? Am I a spiritually mature person? Is it possi-ble for me to become one? Do I know any spiritually mature persons? All this questioning and thinking over the years has led me to formulate tentatively some answers, some ideas that I think have helped me and that I want to share with others. Some of these ideas are derivative: I got them from other folks. Others are either original or synthetic, fash-ioned from items found in reading and conversation and from observing the behavior and attitudes of people I meet. John Blake More, new to our pages, writes from Tejtn 34 - Sm. 20; Cancfin Quintana Roo; 77500 Mexico. Review for Religious A spiritually mature person is probably creative. At least one religious tradition holds that we are made in the image and like-ness of God, and, if we ask ourselves in what this image and like-ness really consist, we naturally come up with the notion that we are like God because we are creative as he is creative. We are ere- ~tive because God made us that way. He made us free and there-fore creative. As humans we show our creativity in at least three 'important spheres (and here I follow Paul Ricoeur): having, power, and valuing. Having. In the exercise of creativity all people, even the spir-itually mature, need to have some material.goods for their own use. Maybe a little, maybe a lot. But the major religious tradi-tions and the spiritual values they represent do not seem to place much importance on the acquisition of wealth, do they? In fact, they see great riches as a disvalue. So spiritually mature persons are not much concerned with acquiring wealth and possessions beyond what they need to get along decently in life. On the other hand, people who have lots of possessions have greater opportu-nities to be creative. They can create new jobs for others, build libraries ~nd museums, or Simply give some of their excess money to .people who need it to survive. In itself; possessing wealth really seems to be spiritually neutral. If one sees possession as steward-ship, it can be something positive. If, however, people believe they are the outright owners without considering that God has entrusted them with these possessions and that they must appor-tion them responsibly, then they are probably not much con-cerned with growth in the Spirit. ~ 0 Power. Spiritually mature persons are probably aware of their own need for power, but are also conscious that everyone else has the same need. We need, in the first place, power over ourselves: self-determination to decide where to live or work, who our friends and associates will be, what kind of lifestyle we will adopt or develop for ourselves. We also need to be able to exercise power over others, but this must be legitimate power, the kind of power society assigns to us and expects us to exercise intelli-gently for the cbmmon good. We have to make choices for, our children. We have to determine the ~activities of our employees if we have any. But, in these activities and others like them, if we allow strength and power to become force and coercion, we can be pretty sure we are not much interested in becoming spiritually mature. We are dismayed when we read of dictatorial aggression, November-December 1998 More ¯ Spiritual Maturity ruthless kidnappings, tribal wars, but force and coercion can occur in little things of daily life and they can have the appearance of being extremely civilized and in the best of taste. :Valuing. In the sphere of valuing, we show our creativity by making determinations about the relative worth of things and activities. Nowadays it is out of fashion to be what people call "judgmental" "because, if you tell p6ople they are doing some-thing wrong, like putting a round peg into a square hole, the~ may feel threatened or embarrassed, feelings which may be owing to a kind of paranoia rather than to comments one may offer con-structively. Spiritually mature persons seldom if ever "condemn," but th.ey must in certain situations be judgmental.Th'at is why ¯ we':haSte crii:ical faculties: to make decisions about what is worthy and what is not, to be ab!e.to distinguish between the junk and the good stuff. And that is what prophecy is all about: shouting from the housetops when you see injustice and abuse.The spiritually mature person, then, distinguishes between healthy and modest criticism done in a spirit of love, and foolish or malicious remarks made in some other spirit. We must evaluate or criticize our cul-ture, our government, our friendships, and of course ourselves. While smiling permissiveness is no virtue, it is also true that unwavering tolerance and spiritual maturity have .always been on the closest terms. One good sign of spiritual growth is a weakening of our most cherished prejudices. When we hate, fear, or feel threatened by another person simply because he is different from us, then we are failing to appreciate the image and likeness of God in that person. These are three general areas that merit consideration as we ponder the nature of spiritual maturity, but other things, too, should be looked at. Frie.ndship is of great importance in the spir-itual life. All the grea( figures of the .important religious tradi-tions, those who had the ,primal mystical experience that gave .rise to those traditions, had friendships with other people. They loved their friends dearly and openly. We, too, are right to treat, our friends lovingly, with tenderness. We look forward to seeing them and spending time with them. We talk with them about'our desires and aspirations, and we confide to them our fears and failures. We inspire them and corisole them.Sometimes we revive ~them when their spirits droop. ,Some people who are mature in the spirit experience some' difficulty in maintaining, friendships for reasons of transport, distance, or schedule, but such difficulties are ! Review for Relig4ous not insurmountable. People can ha-be a firm and meaningful frien'dghip by correspondence. Sure, by mail. Why not? If you know someone whose values and outlook are compatible with yours, you can have an ongoing correspondence with him or her that will be significant for both your live~, and also enriching. You do not have to write anything world-shaking or mind-bog-gling. Writing takes a little more time and effort than a face-to-face chat, and it does not offer the same consolations and pleasures as real face-to-face togetherness, but it is still something of great worth. Growth in the spirit is closely connected to skill in the ~ine art of listening. When I told a friend that some-one had said I was a good conversationalist, he answered that what she really meant was that I am a good listener. I wonder how right he was.'The plain fact, though, i~ that people do like to be listened to, and the spiritually mature person is a master at listening lovingly, corn-" passionately, but also selectively. By this I do not mean the kind of selective listening that'~ filters all I hear through my own ego supports in order to register only those things that satisfy or interest me. Although an interchange between friends may involve a recounting of events or a descrip-tion of facts, when I listen to a friend I am not trying to acquire factual information. I am trying to get a sense of his or her state of mind and soul. This is not always easy, in view of personality differences and of people's varying ability to articulate their inner dispositions. But~ When we listen, we need to care mostly about the person we are listening to. Spiritually mature persons have a delightful sense of child-like wonder that makes everything new. Sophisticated people who have seen it all and done it all, or just do not want to get involved, area lov less fun to be with than men and women who have a deep spiritual sense of wonder. Wonder leads to openness and surprise, contentment and faithfulness, curiosity and enthusiasm. It also brings an appreciation of the uniqueness of each person along with a sense of brotherhood and equality. " Surprising as it may seem, spiritually mature people are hardly ever highly disciplined people. This is because they are loving persons. They do everything that has to be done, they do it at the appointed time, and they 'do it right--not because they have discipline, but because they have love. They are.motivated to read Friendship is of great importance in the spiritual life. November-December 1998 More ¯ SpiritualMaturity Surprising as it may seem, spiritually mature people are hardly ever highly disciplined people. books and wash floors and get to work on time because they live out Augustine's dictum "Love and do as you please." A sullen-faced p4rson probably has too much discipline and too little love. When the persons I am talking about look out at the world, they-see a lot of ambiguity and they embrace it heartily as a major component of human life. If the Creator is good, why does he allow us to suffer so much? Why should I help the poor if poverty is not eradicable? This kind of ambiguity is embraced and accepted by mature .persons of all spiritual tradi-tions, and in the case of Christian spir-ituality there is the model of the ambiguity of the cross. Why should I forgive these people if they are killing me? Why should I ask my Father for help if he has abandoned me? And, putting the two questions together, why should I ask my Father to forgive these people who are killing me if my Father has already abandoned me? For the spiritually mature these are actually non.questions, even as they represent realities that have to be faced. Not because maturity pro-duces historical or social blindness, but because serious consider-ation of such issues leads to acceptance of reality. Such questions, when formulated as questions, are not answerable. And even here ~here is a further ambiguity: how can I accept the reality of drug abuse, teenage pregnancy, rampant poverty and ignorance, and on and on, and still work to change all these social ills, to provide some alleviation to all the suffering they cause? Does "That's the way the world is" mean "why try to change it!"? Language use, too, has to be considered in connection,with spiritual maturity. As little children we learn to use language as an instrument to further our own designs and to get others to behave in ways that promote our own interests. If we learn this skill well as children and then refine it as adults, we become wonderful manipulators or even politicians, and this is why. spiritually mature people hardly ever go into politics. They lack skill in using lan-guage instrumentally. They say what they mean and they mean what they say. They use language to inform or to persuade, but never to.manipulate. Modern societies view independence as a positive andhighly desirable virtue. Mos't parents say they want their children to Review for Religious become independent. We admire the "independent spirit." Actually, such independence is a fiction and a most undesirable one. In reality, each of us is highly dependent on at least a few other humans, and we should be. Living in human society means being interdependent: I depend on you and you depend on me. This is an important ingredient in the cement that holds human society together and promotes the development of culture. Instead of~insisting on their independence, spiritually mature persons consider themselves autonomous--which suggests the ability to live and act in freedom from outside control, coercion, or manip-ulation. That is different from independence because in my free-dom I acknowledge that I depend--sometimes radically--on others, and they on me. In our day most of us are aware (sometimes painfully aware) that the subject matter of life (the real business of human exis-tence) is change and that, in the best case, change takes the form of transformation of the person into an ever more human creature. Being human is a good thing and does not mean, as the cynic 'believes, unremitting egotism and venality. Before he started feel-ing hi.s oats, Adam was so perfect that he had conversations with God as they walked "in the cool. of the day." Being human should mean changing arid becoming perfect, as our Father is perfect. Since most of us consider such perfection an unrealizable ideal, persons who think about becoming spiritually mature prob-ably have a set of unattainable goals that they take quite seriously and adhere to assiduously. They have probably formulated a set of precepts which relate to these goals and which articulate their creatureliness and humanness during their inner conversations with themselves and with' the Spirit of God. In my own thinking about becoming mature in the Spirit, I have come up tentatively with three precepts that reflect my own human creatureliness, but are also ordered toward my capacity to become a "partaker of the divine naturE." I use them to talk to myself. Let me offer them here. Deepen your understanding of reality. Try to get a good grasp of reality by asking the ~right questions. The right questions always have three distinguishing characteristics: they.are unanswerable, they always lead to other and better questions, and they almost always begin with why. Acquiring knowledge requires study and learning from good teachers and good books, along with the will-ingness to undergo the suffering involved in replacing stale beliefs November-December 1998 More ¯ Spiritual Maturity with new data. It also dem'ands increasing connectedness to the culture in which I live and awareness of how life is lived in other cultures. What I should be looking for are meaning and connec-tion: the ultimate unity of all being and its essential oneness with the Absolute. ' Refine your tastes. Begin by distinguishing the merely attractive or pretty from the truly beautiful. If you were brought up on rock music, Mozart probably leaves you cold. Praxiteles probably has little to say to you if you think Schwarzenegger and Stallone are beautiful, Biat we should perhaps not consider ourselves less wor~ thy humans if we are drawn.to the merely attractive or pretty. ' This happens in the best of families, doesn't it? As young peo-ple, when we are most curious about the world and our place in it, we are bombarded with sounds and images and esthetic val-ues from the popular culture. Butwe eventually grow out of that; we ~"put away the things of a child," as St. Paul says. Evil is, of course, the ultimate ugliness, and our involvement in it dimin-ishes our humanity and tarnishes the image of God in us. ~ Formalize your ethics. Here we make a distinction between for-mal and material moral norms. Material norms deal with specific actions and decisions such as killing, steal!ng, and lying (not rec-ommended); and with praying, respecting authority, and being faithful (highly approved and even urged). There is only one norm for those who follow the way of formal ethics: Always seek the good and avoid what is evil. This norm is assimilated and interi-orized by spiritually mature persons to the ext~nt that it becomes part of their nature. In all their decisions and actions, attitudes and dispositions, they keep both eyes on the truly good: good for themselves, their family, their society, their nation, their 151anet: The more this single norm gets imprinted on their souls, the less they have to run through a mental checklist of material norms (do's and don'ts) to see what is prohibited and what is approved. "Seek what is good and avoid what is evil." 'Finally, spiritually mature persons are surely happy persons who radiate to o~hers their joy at living in this world with other people and at spending periods of time in prayerful silence com-muning with the Absolute. Their joy is increased by the knowl-edge that whatever spiritual maturity they may have attained is in fact a free gift from a loving and gracious God. Review for Religious DENNIS J. BILLY A "Spiritdal Turn" for Catholic Moral Theology MGY first encounter with Bernard H~iring,'ithe renowned erman Redemptorist who wrote such significant w. orks as The Law of Christ (1954)~and Free and Faithful in Christ (1978- 1981) and whom many have hailed as the father of contemporary Catholic moral theology, came during a' congress of Redemptorist moral theblogians held at Aylmer; Quebec~ 26-30June 1989. Or/ the second day of the congress,, after he had given an insightful presentation to the general assembly on the state of moral theol-ogy since Vatican Council II, I found myself sitting next to him at lunch as hemused out loud in his weak, barely audible voice (from his long and difficult battle with throat cancer) on the future of moral,theological reflection within the Catholic tradition. Then, as now, a single thought stood out from all the rest: "We have lost sight of the Holy Spirit. In the future, moral theology must give more emphasis to the role of the Spirit. Otherwise, all is lost." Hiiring was so insistent on ~his point that he stated it out-right .at a later session in a rare personal intervention from the floor, For more than eight years, I hav~ been p~ndering the mean-ing of these quiet, unassuming words perhaps in ways which he himself might not have accepted. Retrieving the Spirit Given the vast varieties of pseudo-mysticism in the history of Christianity and the great facility with which the name of the Dennis J. Billy CSSR, a frequent contributor, writes again from Rome, where his address is Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma, Italy. November-December 1998 Billy * A "Spiritual Turn" for Catholic Moral Theology Spirit can be and has been invoked as a way of avoiding critical moral reflection, it is easy to understand how, quite early on, within orthodox circles a latent (and sometimes overt) suspicion grew of anything that even vaguely resembled a charismatic ren-dering of truth by a small "Spirit-filled" elite. To a large extent the church's magisterial structure (that is, its emphasis on apostolic succession and the role of tradition) took shape as a result of its struggle against the esoteric (and sometimes laxist) tendencies of Gnostic mysticism, on theone hand, and the rigorist tenets of Montanist spiritualism, on the other (to name two of the more prominent examples). Historians point to the church's institu-tionalization of the Spirit in the office of the episcopacy and its subsequent control of the sacramental life of the Christian faith-ful as the predominant means by which, down through the cen-turies, it has safeguarded itself from similar threats. One of the unfortunate by-products of this process of insti-tutionalization was the gradual marginalization of the Spirit from the inner workings of Catholic theological reflection. As the mag-isterium became more and more centralized, it consolidated its hold over what it considered the "authentic" utterings of the Spirit and helped to create an atmosphere in which theologians were constrained to pursue their goals within increasingly limited notions of rationality. The gradual shift in Western hermeneuti-cal thought from allegory to syllogism to induction gives evi-dence to this effect, as does the roughly parallel movement in rational theory from analogy to univocity to equivocation. By most counts, this momentous restructuring of the rational pro-cesses of Western thought was as much a function of rising mag-isterial control of the sacred as of an ever changing philosophical terrain (as witnessed in the successive preeminence of Neoplatonic, Aristotelian, and Nominalist thought patterns). Localizing spiritual authority in ecclesiastical institutions, in other words, had the unforeseen .effect of gradually .disassociating ratio-nal discourse from its roots in the intuitive dimension of human existence, that side of human nature most likely to sustain a close experiential rapport with the Spirit. To speak in broad historical terms, the "despiritualization" of human reason had barely begun in the patristic and monastic traditions of late antiquity and the early Middle Ages (when the centralization of ecclesiastical power was hardly underway in Rome), had made recognizable progress during the early Scholastic period (near the time of the Gregorian Review for Religious Reform and the Investiture crisis), was in full swing with the rise of Nominalism in the early 14th century (not long after Boniface VIII's proclamation of Unam sanctam in 1302), and had reached its highest stage of development during the Age of the Enlightenment (just before Vatican Council I's proclamation of papal infallibility). Putting aside the more difficult task of discerning which histor-ical progression was influenced by which, and recognizing the probability of a circular relationship between the two (as well as the likely involvement of other discernible historical factors), one cannot help wondering if the present-day postmodern disillu-sionment with human reason--itself a reaction against the failed hopes of Reason's .coming of age--will herald an attempt to retrieve reason's lost association with the spiritual. If so, one would also have to wonder if the present tendency in the governing structures of Roman Catholicism toward increased centralization is nothing more than a momentary stay in a larger process of decentralization, the forces of which were at work long before the opening of Vatican II and will probably continue. An Anthropological Turn t Such a retrieval or "reinvestment" of reason's ties with "things spiritual" must proceed from the ins'~ghts of a sound Christian anthropology. In the present circumstances, the Pauline body/soul/spirit arrangement as formulated in 1 Thessalonians 5:23 proves especially helpful: "May the God of peace himself sanctify you wholly; and may your ~spirit and soul and' body be kept sound and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ." Here Paul provides an anthropology that construes the human person as a union of three distinct (albeit intimately related) ele-ments: body (soma), soul (psyche), and spirit (pneuma). These ele-ments exist together in the human person and cannot be isolated one from another (as if a human body can be separated from the soul and spirit and still be examined intact). So closely are they related, in fact, that one cannot speak of spirit outside the context of soul and body, and vice versa. Since Paul proposes these anthro-pological terms while addressing the community of believers in the church at Thessalonica, care must be taken not to isolate his understanding of human existence from either its inherent social context or the life of faith. Account must also be taken of the fact that, although he insists on their intimate union in the human m Noventber-Decentber 1998 Billy * A "Spiritual Turn" for Catholic Moral Theology person, he actually says precious little about how body, soul, and spirit relate to one another in the concrete circumstances of daily living. Given these significant contextual details (or lack thereof), the following claims appear generally continuous with the main lines of Paul's anthropological vision and offer correctives to pres-ent- day exaggerated emphasis on the rational. (1) In addition to body and soul, a person can also experience his or her spirit. ,(2) A retrieval or "'reinvestment " of reason's ties with "things spiritual" must proceed from the insights of a sound Christian anthropo!ogy. The mutual relationship between body. and soul suggests a similar rapport between soul and spirit. (3) The spirit touches ~he body through the medidtion of the soul.~(4) Generally speak-. ing, the Holy Spirit touches an individual by communicating its grace first to a person's spirit and then through the .spirit to the person.'s soul and body. (5) God and the human person can enjoy a close interpersonal rapport by.virtue of their communing spirits. (6)People relate to one another on the level of body. soul, and spirit. (7) The Spirit unites the Body of Christ, the church, not only theologically (that is, to God), but also anthropologically (that is, among its members). (8) It does so primarily on the .level of human spirit and only secondarily on the other dimensions of human existence. Elicited from the Paulin4 anthropology of 1 Thessaloni~ns 5:23, these anthropological claims provide the parameters by which a discussion abo,ut reason's "spiritual renewal" may pro-deed. Key to this discussion is the need for all theologians (and moral theologians in particular) to recognize the competence (and the limits) of reason's rule. Just as reason extends to the body through its ordering of the passions (and is thereby "enfleshed"), so the spirit extends to the soul (the seat of the rational faculty) by means of its quiet in.tuiting presence. Clearly, both movements have moral significance that must be taken into account for the future of moral theology. The Criteria of Reason's Spiritual Rebirth What,might such limits be? Without exhausting the possi-bilities, the following list provides some guidelines for discerning Review for Religious the genuine ways in which reason and spirit mutually influence one another. 1. An anthropological relationship of circularity exists between spirit and reason; that is, the insights of one complement the scope and competence of the other in such a way that, when taken together, their interaction generates a field of understanding unique to themselves and which neither would be fully capable of penetrating on its own. Spirit .brings intuition and moments of keen insight to the movement of discursive thought; reason artic-ulates through language something of the inexpressible utterings of the human spirit. Authentic theological reflection taps into this relationship of circularity and allows it to open up for each succeeding generation the meaning of the symbols of the Christian faith, ~. 2. The spirit influences the mind through prayer, and vice versa. When a person.'s spirit communes with God's Spirit, there is a natural reverberation (however slight) in the other, anthro-pological dimensions of human existence. This subtle influence, which will become a veritable overflowing (redundantia) in the beatific vision, strengthens the transcendent orientation of an individual's rational operation. A "spiritua!" person tends to Con-centrate on holy things and seeks to view all things with th'e mind of God. The person?s prayer (contemplative prayer in particular) plays a transforming rather than merely ancillary role in reason's spiritual homecoming, 3. The human spirit is not "irrational," but "supranational." It does not ask reason to go against its own internal principles, but seeks continually to broaden reason's, scope by providing intu-itions that challenge previously unquestioned (and possibly falla-cious) arguments. When reason is in tune with wholesome human spirit (and even more so whefiit is in touch with God's Spirit), it is. constantly prompted to reach beyond itself and to stretch the boundaries within which it normally functions. This extended x~ange is a welcome corrective to that narrowing univocity which nowadays often masquerades as the sole legitimate face of ratio-nal inquiry. ~ 4. Theologians who reintegrate spirit and reason demonstrate a guarded yet profound respect for church authority. The gradual marginalization of spirit from the center of theological reflec-tion, which came at least in part as a result of magisterial cen-tralization and control of the sacred, does not mean that a November-December 1998 Billy ¯ A~'Spiritual Turn"for Catholic Moral TheoloKF .--7- 600 "respiritualized" reason will ignore or, worse, openly disdain the valuable hermeneutical role the magisterium has played in the history of the Catholic tradition. On the contrary, a reintegra-tion of spirit and reason should bring about an even closer work-ing relationship between theologians (in. their concern for reasoned clarity and the e.xploration of' the faith) and the magis-terium (in its concern for the preservation and purity of the faith). While neither will always agree with the other, a close working relationship between them will provide helpful correctives against the extremes of overrationalization and pseudo-mysticism that can all too often get in the way of and even obscure sound theo-logical reflection. 5. A closer working rapport between spirit anal reason will require a reintegrated understanding of the various theological disciplines, especially dogmatic, moral, and spiritual theology. The unfortunate breakup of theology in recent centuries into sep-arate and highly specialized disciplines can itself be understood as a symptom of reason's ongoing despir, itualization. A renewed or "respiritualized" understanding of reason will operate success-fully only in a context ~at seeks to preserve the unity of theology in the midst of its highly specialized and sometimes .seemingly disconnected parts. 6. Renewing reason's link with the spirit will also move a per-son's sense of vocation to the center of theological reflection. No longer will theology, be construed as something existing "in the abstract," as if proceeding outside the theologian's own personal and communal faith experience. Any presentation and consequent systematization of the symbols~of the faith will be valid only to the extent that it remains faithful to and. authentically expresses the deepest sense of a,person's call in life before God through the church and in the world. One's reflection on God, in other words. must tak~ place in the context of one's sense of self in the presence of God and the community of believers. 7. The reason/spirit relationship sheds greater ligh~ on the importance of there being a continuity between theologians' pro-fessional work and their moral behavior. Sound theological reflec-tion stems from a stable interplay between spirit and reason. It reflects the contours of individuals' calls from God in this life and reaches its fullest expression when it is enfleshed in the con-crete circumstance~ of their daily existence. This cannot happen, however, if reason is deprived of all access to the nourishing roots Review for Religious of the spirit, where the human person communes with the Spirit of God through a grace that is freely given and freely received. Sound theological reflection challenges the theologian to int~- grate reason and spirit, theological discourse and personal sanc-tity. The church needs theologians who want to be saints, who admit this desire without false humility, and who bring this desire to the forefront of their theological inquiry. 8. Finally, a reintegration of spirit and reason would sustain within theological reflection a healthy tension between "theol-ogy as science" and "theology as art." Reason's desire to ver-ify corfipl~ments the spirit's yearning for m3?stery, and vice versa. Together they provide useful correctives to the ten-dencies of overrationalization and exaggerated rhetoric, which lessen theology's scope by seekings to turn it into something it is not and should not be, Theology is more than science and mole than art, It Future moral,theological discussion will have to develop a greater sensitivity to the ethical content of humanity's symbolic xpressions. is science and.art, a rare "field-encompassing" discipline which touches all areas of human knowl-edge in its attempt to convey the meaning of the Christian faith to each successive generation.1 By preserving this tension, theo-logical reflection retains a ~.ay of expressing the faith ever anew yet always ina~cord with th~ church's theological tradition. New and creative insights emerge from the tradition precisely in this way, .thereby allowing it to expand its theologic.al horizons and to move 'forward. Implications for Moral Theology The above criteria represent just some of the ways in which a deeper understanding of the relationship between spirit and reason would change ~he way in which theology itself is conceived and carried out. As one might expect, they have very concrete implications for the future of moral theology. 1. Moral theology would be challenged to break out of its hylomorphic rendering of the human (that is, moral) act that has "get the parameters for serious discussion within the Catholic tra- Noventber-December 1998 Billy ¯ A "Spiritual Turn" for Catholic Moral TbeoloKF ~dition since the time of Aquinas. A human action is more than just an expre~ssion of body (as the object of the external action) and mind (as the internal movement of deliberated will). Greater sen-sitivity mu~t be given in futur, e moral-theological reflection to the influence which a person's spirit brings to moral action. A good place to begin would be to apply the insights of Aquir~as's teaching on grace (which, intere~stingly, he considers under the New Law at the end of his treatment of the fundamental princi-ples of morality, that is, Summa tbeologiae, I-lI, qq. 109-114, to the Pauline rendering of 'human anthropology as body (soma), soul (psyche), and spirit (pneuma). 2. Eor ~this to occur, a shift must take place in the under-standing of the nature and role of rationality in current moral-the-ologiEal reflection. In its attempt in recent years to model itself after the empirical and social sciences, theology in general (and moral theology in particular) has adopted a univocal understand-ing of rational inquiry that prevents a balanced interplay of rea-son and spirit from entering into the legitimate bounds of serious theological refledtion. The result has been an unfortunate nar-rowing (some would say "impoverishment") of theology's rightful scope. The current deadlock in the deontologist/proportionalist discussion is but one symptom of this reductive theological under-taking. 3. Since the spirit expresses itself more .through images than in the "clear and distinct" ideas of rational discoul:se, future moral~ theological discussion will have to .develop a greater, sensitivity to the ethical content of humanity's symbolic expressions. To modify Aristotle's definition: Man is not just a rational but also:a symbolic animal. In developing this sensitivity, moral theology will draw closer to the arts than ever before (at least within recent memory) and begin to effect a transformation of the genres and literary style in which it expresses itself. It will also spark a renewed interest in the ethical Content of the images and sym-bols found in the Scriptures and the church's liturgy. 4. Future moral-theological discussion will develop close ties with the three levels of Christian spirituality: (1) the experien-tial, (2) the sapiential, and (3) the analytical.2 Ethical kngwledge will be understood as something to be-garnered from the whole of human experience (that is, throughout the body/soul/spirit continuum) with special emphasis given to the social .aspects of human moral-spiritu.a! discourse and to the role of prayer and~ Review for Relig4ous discernment in moral decision making. This heightened awareness Of the spiritual aspects of its theological heritage will give moral theology a deeper awareness of its own most distinctive traits and enable it to make serious contributions in discussions with other ethical traditions. 5. Given its decision to approach moral knowledge through a reintegrated understanding of the rapport between spirit and rea-son, Catholic moral theology would do best to enter into future dialogue with other ethical traditions--be they philosophical or theological--not by seeking a least common methodological denominator (usually fully acceptable to neither side), but by maintaining without compromise its position on the close anthro-pological (and hence ethical) connection between human reason and human spirit. It is precisely on this level that an answer to the question of the existence of an autonomous Christian ethics will be found. An I~tegral U, nity, a Spiritual Turn" No longer can the Christian life be artificially divided into the way of the law and the way of ~erfection. Precept and coun-sel, .commandment and beatitude, virtue and gift are,all bound together in an integral, inseparable unity. If moral theology is to give more emphasis to the role of the Holy Spirit (as H~iring sug-gests), it must first retrieve' its lost ti~ with the inner movements of the human spirit--the place within the person where the divine and human meet. Only by including th~s neglected anthropolog-ical dimension in moral-theo!ogical reflection will the human perspective of those concerned be broad enough to allow foFa proper discerfiment of the divine. The future orientation of Catholic moral theology will depend to a large degree on how its spokesmen, both magisterial and pro-fessorial, construe (or perhaps "reconstrue") the relationship between rationality and spirituality. Reintegrating these key aspects of the tradition would have two important theological and institutional effects. On the one hand, moral decision making would evidence a notable swing toward prayer and spiritual dis-cernment in helping to solve the dilemmas of conscience that arise among the faithful. This marked "spiritual turn" would move Catholic moral theology away from its present fascination with the problem-solving machinations of quandary ethics to a relational November~December 1998 Billy ¯ A "Spiritual'Turn"for Catholic Moral Theology paradigm rooted in the divine-human encounter. Bishops and theologians, on the other hand. would move away from their all too often adversarial positions to a more collaborative, mutually supportive stance. The changed dynamics would show the impor-tance of rooting moral-theological reflection in the fullness of human experience (that is, body, soul, and spirit) while at the same time highlighting the complementary ways in which the magis-terium and church theologians elucidate the tradition. What is the future of moral theology? The answer to this question is as elusive as time itself. For the moment, let it simply be said that, while the moral theology of the~future will invariably include many things, it cannot afford to exclude or marginalize "the life of the Spirit." In the present context the latter phrase refers to rational theological reflection rooted in a profound awareness of the human spirit as it opens itself up to God's Spirit and allows the word of God to take shape and utter itself, however softly, within the cor~fines of the limited words and deeds by which ¯ we construct our human exp, erience. Such a word, however spo-ken, would resonate with authority and not return in vain. Notes t The notion of a "field-encompassing" discipline comes from Van A. Harvey, The Historian and the Believer: The Morality° of Historical Knowledge and Christian Belief(Philadelphia: Westminister Press, 1966), pp. 81-82. A similar application to spirituality appears in Sandra M. Schneiders, "Spirituality in the Academy," Theological Studies 50 (1989): 692. 2 These levels of spirituality are developed under a slightly different nomenclature in Walter H. Principe, "Toward Defining Spirituality," Studies in Religion/Sciences religieuses 12 (1983): 135-136. See also The New Dictionary of Catholic Spirituality, ed. Michael Downey (Collegeville: Liturgical Press, 1993), s.v. "Spirituality, Christian,", by Walter H. Principe. Review for Religious REGIS J. ARMSTRONG Consecrated Life: Anointed with Joy A passage once "noted with pleasure" by the New York Times Book Review was one by Albert Camus, whose writings express a strong current ofthe, pessimism in EuroPe in the wake of.World War II. It contains these words: "One of the temptations of the artist is to believe himself solitary. But this is not true. He stands in the midst of all, in the same rank,' neither highe~ nor lower, with all those who are working and struggling. His very vocation is. to give a voice to the sorrows and the joys of all."~ . Artists whose vocation is "to give a voice to the sor-rows and joys of all"--this could well be a description of consecrated persons standing with "all those who are working and struggling." It is a description of people called to identify deeply with the mission of Jesus, who came among us and stood in. the midst of all,,.giving voice to their sorrows and joys. How does one assume the stance of "artist" of some-thing so elusive, inexpressible, paradoxical, and fragile? To become such an artist demands entering into the pathos of life and experiencing compassion deeply, that is, as com-passio, suffering or feeling deeply with another. How does one give voice to joy at all? "Silence is the perfectest her-ald of joy," Shakespeare's Claudio says wisely in Much Ado Regis J. Armstrong OFMCap presented this paper (here some-what revised) at the annual conference of vicars of religious held in San Antonio in March 1998. His address is St. Fidelis Friary; 7790 Country Road 153; Interlake6, New York 14847. consecrated life November-Decentber 1998 Armstrong * Consecrated Life About Nothing.2 Joy, thenl is perhaps best ex~pressed transparently, whether one's focus on so paradoxically universal and personal a subject be psychological, sociological, cultural, philosophical, the- 916gical, spiritual, or liturgical. Perspectives From a biblical perspective'~ joy is an incredibly rich theme. In the Old Testament, profound joy is the chosen people's response to Yahweh's redemptive presence or, in the lager tradition, to Yahweh's ever present hesed or lovi'ng mercy. Various forms of the word joy appear in the Old Testament well over a hundred times, giving an inkling or anticipation of the New Testament, of Mary's proclamation of joy in "God my Savior'; and Paul's dramatic exhortation to the Philippians "Rejoice in the Lord always." Over and over agaifi Luke colors his Gospel and Acts with joy:'"To the poor he proclaimed the good news of salvation . and to those in sorrow, joy." If Yahweh is the supreme joy and the greatest delight for the pegple of the Old Testament, the self-giving of God in Christ provides those of the New Testament an essential quality of life, joy. The Holy One of Israel is now incarnate in the person of Jesus: the unfathomable, ineffable joy at the heart of God is now tangible. The Dictionnaire de Spiritualit~ Asc~tique et Mystique offers a variety of perspectives from which to reflect on joy. In its entry on joie, the reader can find, in addition to biblical considerations, summaries of the different theologies.3 There are considerations ' of people such as the early theological giants Origen .and Augustine, the. medieval mystics Bernard of Clairvaux and Francis of Assisi, and the much later doctors of the church Francis' de Sales and Thdr~se Of the Child' Jesus. Each of these writers, the author maintains, offers a different interpretation of the same reality. For Origen, knowledge of the gospel was a source of joy, a joy epitomized in the reaction of the aged Simeon when hd had the Infant in his arms.4 Augustine found joy in the Lord's ever-for-giving mercy, but saw its fullness in the eternal bliss of heaven;5 while Bernard repeatedly disEovered it in God's love.6 Francis of Assisi sang its praises in' hiE descrip.tioia of True Joy,7 and Francis de Sales urged his audienc~ to find joy by putting aside the plea-sures of this world and focusing on those of heaven,s Thdr~se wallowed in the joy of faith when her Beloved seemed most Review for Religious absent,9 From that vantage point alone, Franqois Bussini, author of the Dictionnaire's study, offers a variety of rich ways of study-ing joy, that is, through, the different traditions of,spirituality that provide insights into the meaning and gift of joy. ~' Gaudete in Domino Bussini might easily have added one significant name to his list of "theologians of joy": Paul VI, the author of the first papal doc-ument on the mystery of Christian joy, Gaudete in Domino, 9 May 1975., From his days as cardinal archbishop of Milan to the address of hi~ very last audience on 2 August 1967; four days before his death, joy was a leitmotif of his, a theme to which he continually returried. He offered an insight into the reason for this when he rhetorically asked the people of Milan:: "Have you ever met a saint? And, if you have, tell me: What is the characteristic you found in that soul?" His response to those questions suggests how closely he associated joy with~ the pursuit of happiness: "It will be joy [that you have found], a happiness so tranquil, so pro-found, so simple, but so true. And it is this transparency of joy that makes us declare: That is truly a good soul, because he has joy in his heart.''1° It is not surprising that as pope he took the opportunity to write a major statement on the Christian pursuit of joy. In addition to being an exhortation to pr~y for tile gift of joy, Gaudete in Domino expre~ssed in the mid- 1970s the pope's firm belief that peoples throughout the world desperately desired this "fragile and threatened" gift. ¯ Paul VI introduced his apostolic exhortatiori with a simple description of the need for joy in the contemporary ~orld (GD §1) and con'cluded with three others describing the cry of humanity, especially of the young, for the gift of joy. "We should be atten-tive to the appeal tliat rises from the hearts of humanity," Paul exhorts, "from the age of wondering childhood to serene old age, as a presentiment of the divine mystery" (GD §1). From this atten-tiveness or focusing on the joys of our hearts, Paul discovers an While never losing sight of the fact that joy is a ~timension of human life, Paul Vl found that the mystery of the Incarnate Word transformed its meaning. November-December 1998 Armstrong ¯ Consecrated Life energy and enthusiasm to share the reason for our joy with oth-ers. "In no way," he says, "can [joy] encourage the person ~vho enjoys it to have an attitudd of p.reoccupoation with self. [It] is the result of a human-divine communion, one that aspires to a com-munion ever more universal." In retrospect, Gaudete in Domino provided an insight into the call of Evangelii nuntiandi issued seven months later, which many. consider the Magna Carta of Paul VI'S papacy. There he dramatically exhorted all Christians, and espe-cially religious: "The privileged means of effective, evangeliza-tion" is to proclaim with joy "the joyful news of the fulfillment of the promises of the covenant offered by God" (EN §§69 and 6)~ At the core of the seven brief chapters of Gaudete in Domino, written in his elegant poetic style, Paul sketched the biblical foun. dations of both the Old and New Testaments and the enduring heritage bf Christian joy found in the lives of the saints. The pope may well have had Bussini's article before him,.-especially as he reflected on those saints who expressed joy in their lives and writ-ings. But it is striking how, in addition to Francis of Assisi and Th&~se of L!sieux, Paul draws special attention to the joy of the Conventual Franciscan Maximilian K01be, whom he had canon-ized a few years earlier: "His interior peace, serenity, and joy somehow transformed the place of suffering [Auschwitz]--which was usually like an image of hell--into the antechamber of eter-nal life, both for his unfortunate companions and for himself" (GD §4). While never losing sight of the fact that joy is a dimension of human life, Paul vI found that the,mystery of the,Incarnate Word transformed its meaning: Jesus himself knew, appreciated, and celebrated a whole range of human joys. More wonderfully, how-ever, Jesus revealed the s'ecret.of the unfathomable joy of.the "secret life of the Trinity," that is, the joy of living in God's l~ve (GD §3). "The ~ather is seen here," Paul teaches, "as the one who gives himself to the. Son, without reserve and without ceas-ing, in a burst of joyful generosity, and the Son is seen as he who gives himself in the same way to the Father, in a burst of joyful gratitude, in the Holy Spirit" (GD §3). The joy revealed by Jesus of Nazareth, then, "is the reverberation in human consciousness of the love that he has always known as God in the bosom of the Father" (GD §3). As the Incarnate Son of God, Jesus revealed a new, infinite dimension of joy, one that makes the human soul restless and ever eager to partake of its fullness. "In essence," Review for Religious t Paul e~iplains, "Christian joy is the spiritual sharing in the unfath-omable joy, both divine and human, which is in the heart of Jesus Christ glorified" (GD §2). But, more ~than reflecting on the rev-elatory dimension of Jesus' joy, the pope accentuates its paschal dimension as he underscores that by his death and resurrection Jesus poured the Spirit into the hearts of believers. "The Spirit, who proceeds from the Father and the Son and is their mutual love, is henceforth communicated to the people of the New Covenant and to each soul ready for his secret action. Together with him the human heart is inhabited by the Father and the Son" (GD §3). This, then, is experience of a joy that is truly spiritual, the fruit of the Spirit's presence and a characteristic of fill Christian virtue (see GD §3). Shortly before his death Paul VI shared with John Magee, his secretary, "the secret of my spirituality": .I have to recognize God the Father's action in his Son in my regard. Once I acknowledge that God can work in me through his Son, he gives me grace, the grace of baptism. After the grace of being reborn to God's life, my life becomes a tension of love with God drawing me to him-self. Always, in all of us, there is this tension betwe.en my mise-ria and God's misericordia. The whole spiritual life of every one of us lies between these two poles. If I open myself to the action of God and the Holy Spirit and4et them do with me what they will, then my tension becomes ioyous and feel within myself a great desire to come to him and receive his mercy; more than ever I recognize the need to be for-given, to receive the gift of rnercy,l~ This passage offers a m~arvelous insight~in,to'Paul's preoccupa-tion with the gift of Christian joy. That "tension of love" that stretched or expanded his entire life and made him continually aware of his sinfulness and the overwhelming love of God became joyous and made him ever more desirous to possess the joy of God's presence. Evangelica testificatio, Paul VI's apostolic exhortation on the renewal of the religious life, was significant in this regard. It expresses his conviction that the joy radiating from religious com-munities would be proof of the validity Of religious life. Joy, he maintained, would be "proof to everyone that the state of life which [religious] have chosen is h~lping [them] to realize the greatest possible expansion of [their] life in Christ." Moreover, November-Decentber 1998 Armstrong ¯ Consecrated Life it would be a magnet attracting the young to understand the appeal of Jesus, and be "the most effective invitation to embrace ttie religious life" (ET §55). Vita Consecrata Twen~ty-one years later John Paul II published his postsyn-odal apostolic exhortation Vita consecrata. Curiously, Vita conse-crata contains only scattered references to joy, fourteen in all. There are certainly echoes of Paul VI's Evangelica testificatio in phrases such as "the joyful witness [of consecrated life] to [God's] loving concern for every human being" (VC §16). Unlike Paul vI, however, John Paul II seems more concerned with the dwelling on the foundations of consecrated life. He only touches on the joy that the consecrated life brings through monasticism (VC §§6, 2.7), virginity (VC §7), and common life (VC §51), rather than off the dynamics of a spirituality of joy. Does .this mean that Vita con-secrata does not assist us in understanding consecrated life as being anointed with joy? No, but Michael Novak's observatior~ into the thought of John Paul II is apropos. The pope, Novak claims, is an artist at home in the world of the intellectual as well as in.that of the poet. To understand these dimensions of his thought, it is important to remember that he is a phenomenologist. "Simply put," Novak maintains, phenomenology is a sustained effort to bring back into phi-losophy everyday things, concrete wholes, the basic expe-riences of life as they come to us. It wishes to recapture ~those quotidian realities from the empiricists, on the one hand, who analyze them into sense data, impressions, chem-ical compositions, neural reactions, etc., and from the ide-alists, on the other hand, who break them 6p into ideal types, categories,and forms.12 -.To understand his thought, then, demands being attentive to both his language and the underpinnings of his thought. In addressing religious communities and consecrated persons "in the introduction to Vita consecrata, the pope writes of the "dif-ficult and trying period" .and of the "time of tension and struggle" in which they live. By referring to,Acts 15:31, he expresses his hope that consecrated women and men will receive the document as 'the Christians of Antioch did; by being joyful at the hope and encouragemen't which it gives. Immediate!y, however, he turns Review for Religious his attention to the entire people of'God and expresses his hope that the document will increase their joy as they become more aware of the consecrated life and, as a result, "thank almighty God for this great gift [of consecrated life]" (VC §13). Does this mention of consecrated life as a "great gift" provide a hint at the underpinnings of John Paul's understanding of what it means to be "anointed with joy"? Even a superficial reading of ¼"ta consecrata reveals John Paul's view of the consecrated life and the evangelical counsels as gifts. This perspective undoubtedly flows from his per-ception of Vatican II's emphasis on the profound reality of ecclesial communion, "in which all gifts ¯ converge for the building up of the Body of Christ and for the church's mission in the world" (VC §4). Seventy-three times he writes in Vita conse-crata of the gifts of consecrated life, of the evan-gelical counsels, of the radical gift of self for love, of the gifts of consecrated communities that com-plement one another, and so on. From John Paul's perspective, then, an awareness of the great gift of consecrated life, an awareness of being gifted; is a source of joy as well as a reason for thanksgiving". Thus Vita consecrata clearly offers an under-standing of conse, crated life that clearly supports seeing it as "anointed with j6y," for consecrated women and men have been gifted, have been sin-gled out as recipients of a special love tha~ brings joy. Fourteen times these gifts are specifically attributed to the Holy Spirit, a reminder that adds an extra note of joy~ Joy'flows from a conscious-ness of being loved--and thereby gifted. The joy of consecrated life flows from a consciousness of being '.'plunged into the fir~ of love which burns in them and which is none other than the Holy Spirit" (VC §26). It implies being gifted with an energy that pushes them beyond any joy this world offers. Like all joy, it leads to two things: a fuller.dove or union and a more profound eagerness or restlessness tha't this love be expressed and known. The joy of consecrated life demands, in the pope's words, that consecrated life "become one of the tangible seals which the Trinity impresses upon history, so that people can sense with longing the attrac-tion of divine beauty" (VC §20). From J~ohn Paul's perspective, then, an awareness of the great gift of consecrated life,. an awareness of being gifted, is a source of joy as well as a .reason for thanksgiving. Novetnber-Decen*ber 1998 Armstron~ ¯ Consecrated Life Were we to attempt a summary of John Paul's understanding of the consecrated life, we might choose this one sentence of Vita consecrata: "This special way of 'following Christ' expresses in a particularly vivid way the Trinitarian nature,of the Christian life and anticipates in a certain way that eschatological fulfillment toward which the whole church is tending" (VC § 14). Expressing those two dimensions of consecrated life--the Trinitarian and the eschatological--seems to form for John Paul lI the challenges of consecrated life and the foundations for joy. To live that conse-crated life as anointed with joy implies doing the same: reflecting in a joyful way the inner life of God in which we are caught up and, at the same time, expressing our restless pursuit 'of the full-ness of joy that will be achieved only in heaven. Our contempo- "rary struggles in rethinking the role of consecrated life in the mystery of-the church suggest two fundamental questions. First, have we plumbed the depth of the gift of the Holy Spirit that ¯ consecrated life is? And, second, have we developed a passion for the ~onsecrated life that makes it "a daring adventure of love" driving us to "that eschatological fulfillment toward which the whole church is .tending.''13 Answering those two difficult ques-tions has not been an easy enterprise. The answers seem to be as elusive as the full meaning of "anointed with joy." The Trinitarian Nature of Consecrated Life The contemporary sensitivity to inclusive language has under-scored a fundamental problem of contemporary Christian spiri-. ,tuality, namely, the failure to pay adequate attention to its Trinitarian underpinnings.14 If this is the case, focusing on the joy inherent in consecrated life through the prism of the gift of the Holy Spirit, which demands reflecting on the Trinity, might bor-dernot on being risky, but on being reckless. Language becomes a mjnefield not only because of images, for example, masculine and feminine, but also because of the elusive, transparent, incon-spicuous nature of the Spirit itself. Wind, power, light--these are some of the poetic images used to express its presence. Never pointing to itself, the Spirit cries,out "Abba!" and "Jesus is Lord!" While it is our Father and our Lord Jesus Christ, the Spirit pos-sesses us and catches up our unique spirits as its own. Following the teaching of Augustine, medieval theologians remark that within the mystery of.the triune God there is an Review for Religqous energy or quality expressed in two words: esse ad, "to be to" or "to be for" the other.~5 The phrase is undoubtedly another way of expressing that God is love, but it implies that that love means being present to or for another. Richard 6f St. Victor and the relation-oriented theology of the 12th century paved the way for Bonaventure, who identifies the Holy Spirit as the nexus or the bond joining the Father and the Son, the power of mutually being to or for the other. The Spirit is the love with which the Father loves the Son and the Son loves the Father. Therefore, the Spirit brings to both Father and Son the fruit of its presence, joy. It makes them esse adl present, to and for one another. Bonaventure goes a step further. The Spirit, he maintains, is the love with which the Father and Son love us: It is that power of love or, as Paul vI describes it, that "tension of love" which draws us into the infinite love of the triune God. It is that which enables us to respond to that divine love with the same love. Being overwhelmed by and responding to love--that is the meaning of a graced or gifted life; It makes us restless for the perfectioh of love. It is that which lifts us above ourselves, challenges us to let go of everything and be filled with love. Of necessity it calls all J Christians to a mystical embrace'of God', one that flows from the knowledge that the gift of the Spirit sweeps those who are gifted into the very heart of God. As Thomas Merton writes in Life and Holiness, "To be a Christian is to be committed to a largely mys-tical life,., to live within the dimensions of a completely mys-tical revelation and communication of the divine being." 16 What this means, of course, is dependent on the mystery of the ~ncarnate Word, for he is the revelation of the triune God. What it means to be loved by God is dependent on our knowledge of h~ow Christ reveals he is loved. As John Paul II tells us, "In the countenance of Jesus, the 'image of the invisible God' (Col 1:15) and the reflection of the Father's glory (see Heb 1:3), we glimpse the depth of an eternal and infinite love which is at the root of OUl~ being" (VC ~ 18). What it means to respondto that"love depends on our awareness of the kenosis, the self-emptying of Jesus. It makes our struggle as Christians--and, more to the point, as con-seerated women and men--to be essentially this: being Christ-centered. Understandably, then, Vita consecrata speaks of those called to consecrated life as persons called to "let themselves be seized by this love [to the point of] abandoning everything" (VC §18). He speaks of them devoting themselves "with undivided 1-6-1"November-December 1998 Armstrong ¯ Consecrated Life heart" (VC §1), making a "choice of total ~elf-giving to God in Christ" (VC §2), and expressing themselves "in a radical gift of self for love of~the Lord Jesus Christ" (VC §§.3,.12). This becomes a never ending recognition of philokalia, or the love of the divine beauty revealed in Jesus, and a progressive following of the Spirit's lead,to conformity with Christ (see VC §19). E~chat~logical Dimensidn of the Consecr~ated Life This ~focus onthe revelation of God's love in.the person of Jesus, however, leads John Paul to the secon~d dimension of con7 secrated life: its eschatological charhcter. "It is the duty of,the consecrated life," he maintains, "to show that the incarnate Son of God is the eschatological goal toward which all things tend, the splendor before which every other light pales, :and the infinite beauty which ~alone can fully satisfy the human heart" (VC §16). Here. too the gift of the Spirit is of quintessential importance. It enables "new men and women;to recognize the appeal of such a demanding choice, . . . awakens .the desire to respond, fully, . . . and guides the growth of this desire" (VC §19). "By allowing them-selves to be guided by the Spirit on an endless journey of purifi-cation," the pope maint~ains, "they become, day by day, conformed to Christ, the prolongation in history of a special presence of the risen Lord" (VC §19). In Vita consecrata John Paul II speaks of the Holy Spirit ninety-five times. The Spirit of Vita consecrata is power unlimited (VC §25), ,works without ceasing (VC 921), continually animates (VC §25) and gives strength (VC §30), and shapes and molds the hearts of those who are called (VC §19). The work of the Spirit as it guides us on its purifying journey is clearly one of calling, us beyond ourselv~es and beyond our limited experience of God's love~ Although ¼"ta consecrata clearly expresses this traditional, oth-erworldly spirituality, the pope also sees that the ardent expecta-tions of those consecrated persons demand an expression in the world in which~they live. Since "here we have no lasting city" (Heb 13:14), their longing "expresses itself in work and mission through a spirit capable of giving rise in human society to effec-tive aspirations for justice, peace, sglidarity, and forgiveness" (VC~ §27). These are the ones who "bring.hope to their brothers and sisters who are often discouraged and pessimistic about the future, . . . ~ hope founde~ on God's promise con~tained in the revealed Review for Religious word: the history of humanity is moving toward 'a new heaven and a new earth'" (VC §27). The hope they have discovered in the mystery of God's love, in other words, makes them eager to encourage others. And so their eschatological spirituality calls for active and renewed involvement in programs of systemic social change that are sensitive to the signs of the times, to the prefer-ential option for the poor, and to the promotion of,justice (see VC, §§81, 82). "Eschatological expectation becomes mission," John Paul teaches, "so that the kingdom may become ever more fully established here and now" (VC §27). Above all, however, this eschatolog- ~ ical thrust is oriented toward the future, a theme the pope introduces fourteen times in his exhortation. "By their charisms," he states, "consecrated per- ,~ sons become signs of the Spirit point-ing to a new future enlightened by.faith and.by Christian hope" (.VC §27), Thus the gift of the Spirit:is always prompting (VC §§1, 19, 22, 25), guiding (VC §§19, 63), awakening desire (VC §19), and teaching the hearts of those who are ca!l.ed, ~for it is the "educator par excel-lence of those who are consecrated" (VC §60). The Spirit's role in shaping the~future of consecrated life is perhaps best captured in the phrase "the creative guidance," in a section that speaks of the future (V.C §63). The phrase is similar to another, "creative fidelity," found earlier in the. document where the pope invites consecrated women and men to propose anew and with courage the enterprising initiative, creativity, and holi-ness of their founders and foundresses in response to the signs of the times,emerging in today's world" (VC §37). The Spirit's creative energy, then, flows throughout ¼"taxonsecrata, as the pope sees it, fashioning new expressions of consecrated life (VC §§ 10, 12), pointing to a new future (VC §27), and rejuvenating the Bride of Christ by the consecrated life (VC §64). "You haveonot only a glorious history to remember and recount," he declares, "but also a great history still to be accomplished" (VC §110). There is a built-in dynamic here. Rahner called it "The Dynamic Element in the Church" and suggested that it could very easily be a point of tension between the hierarchy and consecrated religious. Recent The Spirit's role in shaping the future of consecrated life is perhaps best captured in the phrase "the creative guidance.'" November-Decentber 1998 Armstrong * Consecrated Life history has shown us that it can easily be a point of tension among consecrated religious themselves, especially between the more traditional and the more creative brothers and sisters or between those without grounding .in the tradition, frequently older mem-bers, and those willing to "try anything" new without the tradi-tion's guidance. "Proposing anew the initiatives, creativity, and holiness of founders or foundresses" or developing "a dynamic fidelity to their mission" is easie'r said than done. Nevertheless, it is this very energy of the Spirit that John Paul II understands as revitalizing consecrated life and enabling new men and women to recognize its appeal. In this context, too, itis striking that John Paul writes of "the perennial youth of the church" and sees it integrally tied to "the new spiritual and apostolic impulses" of "new or renewed forms of the consecrated life" (VC §12). VChere is joy in all this? Perhaps it is found best in John Paul's image of "the perennial you. th of the church." No one could ques-tion the pope's concern for the young; his repeated meetings with and addresses to young people throughout the world are proof of that concern. The prerogative of the young, he frequently reit-erates, is to be concerned about the future, to dream about its unfolding, and to be excited about its shape. Is it not precisely in their dreaming and excitement that they find joy, a joy that is contagious and that enlivens even the more depressed? An echo of"ad Deum qui laetificat iuventutem meam" may be heard here, "to God who gives joy to my youth." As G.K. Chesterton observed, "The ~arpe diem religion is not the religign of happy people, but of very unhappy people. Great joy does not gather the rosebuds while it may; its eyes are fixed on the immortal rose which Dante saw. Great joy has in it the sense of immortality; the very splendor of youth is the sense that it has all space to stretch its legs in." 17 The pope's eschatological vision wisely notes the perennial youth that flows from the energy of the Spirit and keeps it ever young. With that alone comes joy! Tucked away among the more mystica! passages of T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets is one that is appropriate here: "The hint half guessed, the gift half understood, is Incarnation." 18 Eliot reminds his readers that the incarnation, is the only prism through which "to apprehend the point of intersection of the timeless with time ¯. something given and taken." A marvelous description of Con-secrated life! The Johannine tradition undoubtedly offers' the strongest Review for Religious :hints about the mystery of joy. The term chara, joy, occurs nine times in the Gospel of John and once each in the three Letters. Of all the references to joy in the Gospel, all but one are in the Last ~Supper discourse (15:17; 16:20-24; 17:13), where it is a future possibility opened up for Jesus' followers by his victorious death and th

Issue 30.4 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, 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 REVIEW FOR R~LIGIOUS; ~12 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; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania ~9m6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis ~. ~.,'ersity, the editorial oflfices being located . ';12 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard. Saint Louis, Missour 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~ 1971 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Published for Review fi,r Religious at Mr. Roval & (;uilford Ave., Bahimore. Md. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore. Maryland and at additional mailin~ offices. Single c~pies: $1.25. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW eort REL1OIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW IgOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. - Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REvmw ~OR RELIGIOtJS; P. O. Box 1110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; .539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JULY 1971 VOLUME 30 NUMBER 4 SISTER MARIE BRINKMAN, S.C.L. Toward a Theology of Women's Religious A theology of any aspect of the Christian life by its nature evolves. Perhaps the greatest difficulty of living in an age of transition in the Church is to feel the process and not the fruits of theological evolution. That seems to be where we are in what has long been called--and lately "unlabeled" by Brother Gabriel Moranl--religious life. Whatever such a theology has been for the past, it is no longer adequate if we are to judge by current efforts to enunciate a theology of celibacy for the present, or fu-ture. If it is fair to generalize, we might call that of the past a "theology of negation." In the sense used here, the term means an understanding and practice of the vows o~ religion which emphasized mortification or restraint of human inclinations and desires, in order to realize an ideal of universal charity dedicated to service, sharing of goods in community, and snbmission to the will of God. The end was wholly positive: to follow Jesus Christ in establishing His kingdom on earth. The ground of the theology was the gospel. But complex factors resulted in emphasis on the self: self-denial, self-perfection, and a profound privacy in living united with God. Such em-phasis wa~ natural and necessary when the life of celibacy for the kingdom struck its roots in a primitive Christian-ity inimical to its pagan surroundings. Flight from the world to the desert--literally or simply in spirit--was a dramatic and effective model for following Christ. If Augustine's experience and temperament brought liim to it in struggle, others sought it by inclination. It ~See his article in National Catholic Reporter, December 18, 1970. ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Marie is a faculty member of ¯ St. Mary College; Xavier, Ks. 66098. VOLUME 30, 1971 4" 4" 4" Sister Marie ¯ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 564 would be some time, furthermore, before the asceticism of the desert and Augustinian theology, influenced by Paul, would be modified by Benedict's rule of modera-tion. Even then, throughout the Middle Ages, as the monastery came to grips with the world, the need for strict asceticisnl gTew. If its roots in the gospel became manifest in the joy of Francis's mendicant poverty, the joy was no less the fruit of renunciation. Yet within the Poverello's .lifetime, that reach of the spirit that says "yes" to all creation proved too difficult an integra'tion for many. Extremes and strife divided his followers. But if negativism and individualism were always abuses of celibate life, spiritual freedom and individnal-ity were its frnit in every age. The passion of universal charity, of profound friendship, and of intimacy with Jesus Christ is the part of the mystery that Benedict, Francis, and John of the Cross knew to its depths. So too conntless others. A positive theology then is nothing new--except in an interpretation and practice appropriate to contempo-rary experience and language. The question is not the validity of renunciation under vows, which by Christ's promise brings the hundredfold of communal life, but the meaning of that recompense. If emphasis in the past has been on limitation and self-denial for the sake of the spirit, it is growing into a desire for celebration of the spirit. If, in the past, a certain privatism of spirituality paralleled external community life, today personal and communal relationships are becoming ways to God in a different manner. Far from a secularistic or humanistic approach to reli-gious commitment, the question may involve a more de-manding and mature way of living in simplicity and obe-dience to the Spirit than did older forms of communal living. It may call for a fuller renunciation in the very experience of personal commnnion and communal rela-tionships. The point is that, primarily, the question is one of community. Here is no suggestion that the historical phenomenon of individual persons freely coming together to live in celibacy and service, and publicly declaring their inten-tion to the Christian community, is pass~ in the life of the Chnrch. That personalism, freedoin of life style, and sharing can become fetishes of a new kind of communal life is an evident risk. That the life may broaden to include celibate anti married persons in the same commu-nity is an evident possibility. But the risk of any communal life is loss of solitude sufficient to sustain it, and sharing that becomes expo-sure. Put another way, the nltimate risk is absence, rather than presence, of God to lnan in his heart. Then the presence of fellowmen becomes an absolute necessity-- and a new flight to the desert follows. Paul's analogy of marriage and the Church can be a foundation stone for a new enunciation of an old theol-ogy of celibate communal life. The analogy has less to do with the submission of woman to man and a concept of virginity as superior to marriage than with the comple-mentary values of marriage and celibacy. The Church is imaged in neither one nor the other, but in both. This is so because the analogy to the Chnrch lies not only in the sexual union of man and wife, fruitful in the family, but in the union between mature persons in friendship. Without this highest valne--which is Christ's own word for man's union with him--marriage is imper-fect, and celibacy is not fully hnman. It may be that for most people the ration of Cltrist and tl~e individual per-son is fully realized only within a spiritual union of free, eqnal persons. Marriage wants this; celibacy shoukl nur-ture it. Further, in Augustine's doctrine of uni~m with God, it is not the negative and ascetical aspects of the spiritual life that are significant so much as his emphasis on pres-ence, the inner Light that is God dwelling in man. That presence between persons is a reality analogous to, even conducive to growth in presence with God was not a strange idea to Augustine. He knew it fully in relation to his mother, if to no one else. In the twelfth century, Kichard of St. Victor, by way of Augnstine's doctrine of exemplarism, the "necessary rea-son," explained from the experience of human love the communion of Persons in the Trinity. Ewert Cousins, in a recent issue of Thought,'-" perceptively analyzes Ri-chard's treatise as a contribution of medieval theology to contemporary philosophy and psychology. Examining the dynamics of interpersonal love in the faith-transformed tradition of the Christian community, Richard sees that charity demands that a person love to the fullness of his capacity: "To enter into a partial rela-tionship with another person, without depth or intensity, is to fail to realize the possibilities of human love." And in realizing such capacity "one mounts into the life of God . The human person ~nost imitates his divine Exemplar--and is therefore most a person--when he transcends himself in a union of love for another per-son." :~ The author then explores a deeper level of Richard's theology of love, as a growth from charity to the happi-ness of loll communication to the generosity of sharing -""A Theology of Interpersonal Relations," Thougt, t, Spring 1970, pp. 56-82. :~ Ibid., pp. 71 and 65. 4- 4- + Women's Ret~g~ous VOLUME 30, 1971 + ÷ + Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 566 this ~nutual love. In explaining the exemplary reason for the Trinity of Divine Persons, the medieval theologian speaks of three aspects of charity: self-transcending union, individuality of persons, and their creativity. In this third and perfect stage of charity, it is fruitful in a third per-son: ua the Trinity, the Spirit; in the union of hnsband and wife, the child; and in friendship, community with yet another. But a theologian, contemporary now rather than to his own time, offers a doctrine of analogy even richer in implications, perhaps, for present thought about the spir-itual life. It may well be that Ricbard's and his own thinking coincide. John Henry Newman, especially in his writings about the act of knowledge, the life of faith, and the development of doctrine, dealt with man's relation-ship to God in a way that foreshadowed the insigl~ts of philosophers and psychologists of human relationships for a century to come. Althongh he speaks in the traditional language of Catholic doctrine about revealed mysteries, he is con-stantly describing and reflecting on experience, and re-fuses to leave mystery or doctrine on any abstract plane. The act of conscience, observed in the earliest life of reason, becomes for him a consciousness of AnotlYer and a response that demands fidelity. When this moral princi-ple becomes a growing knowledge of Person, faith be-comes experiential. That it becomes an experience to be shared is the explanation for Newman's writing about it. As be knew faith, it was the fulfillment of reason. It was a profoundly human experience of a divine gift, so fitting to the mind, rigorot, sly exercised, as to seem na-tural. This experience, as the ground of a concept of anal-ogy, is so far from being simply intellectual that it be-comes an act of relationship, a response to presence that is the very analogue of friendship. Analogy here means no mere parallel between knowl-edge and belief, between human and divine relationship; neither did the exemplar, or "necessary reason," for Au-gustine or Richard. It means an interaction, a comple-ment. Levels and quality of experience remain distinct even while illnminating and enlarging one another. But the implications cannot receive fair treatment outside the context of Newman's full reflections and development of ideas. They are the ground for asking some serious ques-tions about communal life nnder vows, as it develops today. If the most serious of these tend to converge, it is per-haps toward an nltimate qnestion: Is there something absolute that constitutes religious life as a necessary fac-tor in the life of the Church, and if so what is it? Answers wonld not be slow in coming: the vows, corn- munity, celibate consecration to Jesus Christ, service to the people of God according to the Gospel . or others. Then, because any one of these, in relation to the others, can evoke a fair argument for its primary value for reli-gious life, the question remains, what is there in com-munal living, or an act of dddication, or apostolic witness that demands patterns of living in obedience, poverty, and chastity? For not only the patterns but their princi-ples are in question. The thesis here is that an experienced relationship to God in Jesus Christ, known througla a like relationship to one's companions, is the absolute factor without which religious life wonld not exist. The theological, psycholog-ical, and strnctnral dimensions of the relationship are not different approaches to the question, but aspects of a single phenomenon of celibate consecrated life--here considered as it may be for a woman. Companions, in tbe traditional context of religious life, are tile members of one's immediate religious family and include all the members of the community. In the whole view, however, they are not defined by either of these groups, for at one time in the history of the Church, celibate women witnessed to the kingdom within the sin-gle Christian community, without need for a gronp set apart, and it is conceivable that the condition conld pre-vail again. Then the Christian commnnity itself would be so renewed that its communal witness would be all that the Church would require and individual celibate men and women would minister within it, but in more varied ways demanded by the needs of a Church in a secularized society. A married clergy within the ranks of the diocesan priesthood might be prophetic of such celibate life in the Church, which ah'eady exists along with religious com-munities. Celibates, priests, and laity would then make one whole community. The relationship in question is that which tlows from the life of the Trinity to man in God's acts of Father-hood, or creation and providence; of Sonsbip, or revela-tion in redemption; and of Spirit, or indwelling to make whole, integTal, or holy. All this is a matter of initial, continning belief for the Christian who, gradually by God's graciousness, comes to know experientially what it means to be created, forgiven, and loved. Fm'tber, the quality of that experiential knowledge of faith is undefin-able and dilferent for each believer. The point here is that it takes on a special aspect for one who responds to the call to live by the evangelical counsels. Then the relationship to God entails a complete dedication, or giving over, of oneself to Jesns Christ for ÷ + + Women's Religious LiIe VOLUME 30, 1971 567 Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 568 the sake of extending His kingdom on earth. The de-mand on a person may be simply that of God's will, a desire to live in a religious community, gratitude for what God has given and the need to share it, or any other form the call may take; bnt it is answered with the knowledge that it means service, nndetermined by oneself and in a condition of personal poverty. The service and its necessary conditions, as well as the connnunity in which it is given, are secondary to the ultimate motivation which comes from the realization that God is one's Creator, Redeemer, and Sanctifying Life, and that He wishes to be so to others who do not . know Him. The initial undertaking of a vowed life for such reasons is like the commitment of a young woman to a man whom she knows and loves for his goodness and wishes to marry; as yet she has no real knowledge of what he is like in his whole self and in the power of his relation to her. That can only come in their day-to-day mntual giving and growth in conjugal love. The consent and gift of the marriage vows arc an act of faith that fuller realization of each other will bring to maturity. If the love grows in the depth that the sacrament signi-fies, and when it includes the full dimension of friend-ship, the realization must come in the most intimate and generous hnman relationship possible to man. This then is not model for, but parallel to the realization and inti-macy that the religious woman should achieve in relation to Jesus Christ: parallel in th:~t a conamitment either to marriage or to religious life depends upon an extension, in concrete experinaental terms, of the faith and hope and love in which a believing person lives with God--but frequently at a less profound depth of experience than he knows in a human relationship. In fact, it is almost easier for a yonng woman to believe in the creative power for her of the man she loves than in the highly personal creative providence of God for her. She may experience his forgi~reness in a more immedi-ately healing way than she knows the mercy of Christ; and her sense of oneness with him grows more strong than her awareness of God's dwelling in her. When reali-zation of her relationship to God eqnals in intensity of experience her relationship with her husband, she will live to the full the sacrament of marriage and be herself a channel of God's action. But the same difficulty in realizing a personal relation to God that integrates ;ill hunaan relationship can attend the spiritual growth of a religions. It is not so ranch a matter of which must take precedence as it is a constant projection of one to the other for the sake of understand-ing, and realizing God through knowing and loving man. Whatever the actual level of experience in relationship a person knows in marriage or religious life, the two are parallel, .or complementary, in the Church as a sign of God's relation to man in a human commnnity. One is as necessary to the Cburcb as the otber. But in tbe parallel lies their difference. Marriage isa formal sacrament, be-cause the family community is fundamental to buman natnre and stands in need of special grace beyond that of the individual Christian life; because families propagate the Christian community of believers; and because the union of man and wife signify the union of Christ and his Church. Furtber, marriage lind the family witness to the mysteries of Incarnation and Redemption as they renew man in time. The religious community, on the other hand, bad its beginning later in bistory when a special witness within the Christian community was needed. The witness con-sists in colnmunity, as does that of the family, bnt not in any particular form--monastic, mendicant, apostolic, or contemplative. The form may even be the Christian com-munity as a whole, with certain members living in celi-bate witness and service. The essential note of religious life is the witness of a relationship to Jesus Christ unique in the Church, dependent upon the absolute surrender of oneself to God for the sake of the kingdom. II The religious consecration and the common life that ordinarily flows from it are sacramental by their nature, a sign of the escbatological mystery of the fulfillment of the kingdom, that is, the full realization of God's creative, redemptive, and nnitive action upon an individual man and the whole human community. Religious life itself is the temporal sacrament of the Church as it will be be-yond time when all realities signified will be revealed. But just as nothing of the God-man relationship is an abstraction of doctrine or theology when realized in expe-rience, so this connection between the individual and the human community under God's action is a living reality to be experienced, if it is true. If the nature of its truth could be realized by the individual, living either in the natural family or the religious group, then much of the conflict between the personal and the communal, be-tween the natural and the supernatural would disappear. To say its trutb lies in living out the doctrine of the Mystical Body and in realizing the community of the people of God is not to perceive how this is accomplisbed psychologically. To say it is the work of grace is not to explain what grace is, in the interaction of God's and man's freedom. And the words of Cbrist that "what you do to the least of tbese you do to me" are a truth that, like all trntbs of such dimension, is in danger of becom-÷ + ÷ Women's Religious VOLUME .30, 1971 569 4" Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ing axiomatic. Perhaps his other words, "This is my Body, which shall be given for you," bear upon these truths in such a way as to make clear what the experience of the relationship of the believer, and more particularly of the religious, to Jesus Christ can be. The full dimension and significance of the Incarnation is latent in these words of consecration. The mystery of God's taking on a created body, in order to be present to us fully in suffering our human condition, becomes here the mystery of Christ's signifying His creative and re-demptive presence in us in the form of food. Because He Himself is the food, we become one in eating it together --a unity of personal communion with Him and inter-communion with one another, a community hidden and yet to be realized in human personal communion. As with Him, this grows and expresses itself in the aware-ness of another's presence, in a growing knowledge of another's reality, in merciful acceptance of one's own and another's sinfulness, and in free creative unifying love. If these are effects of our communicating Jesus Christ, they are to be the effects of our communicating with one another. They are what man in his nature needs and constantly seeks in a fellowman; they are what only God can supply fully. But it may well be that God does not ordinarily work these effects in man except through his communion with those associated with him in a human community. When marriage becomes what it is meant to be for a man and a woman, their interrelationships are God-like in their effects, are, in fact, the very way in which God comes to and acts upon them. Ideally, as a couple mature in marriage, husband and wife increasingly liberate the creative power of the other, in the public ways of making and governing a home, of rearing a family. But the im-measurable factors of personal liberation of the spirit that determine the growth and interaction of personality between a man and a woman are the real cause of the family's unity. When a woman is fully recognized for what she is_and can become, is even brought to be what she could not be alone; when time after time she receives forgiveness for what she has done and compassion for what she is from one who knows her; when imperceptibly she comes to freedom and peace in union with one who loves her, then all of her creative powers are awakened to be exercised primarily upon her children, within her home, and beyond it. If she believes and contemplates this action of God upon her spirit through her relation to her husband, her faith in God's providence, her hope in His mercy, and her love for Jesus Christ become one with and realized in the bonds that unite her with husband and children in their community. The same needs of the spirit are fulfilled .or frustrated in the human community of those wbo have consecrated themselves by vow to Jesus Christ. But just as a husband can be neither substitute for a relation to God nor an "instrument" of salvation for a woman, so relation to Christ, for a celibate woman, is in no way a substitute for or even a sublimation of what a husband might be to her; nor is her religious community a substitute for a family. The relation to Christ is the ultimate human fulfillment in either familial or religious community; the human relations are not image of or psychological substi-tute for but the very substance and realization of the personal relation to God, in Jesus Christ. They are, or should be, fulfillment of Christ's words, "This is my Body." It is such relationship---of creative freedom, of healing mercy, and of unifying love--in a strong consciousness that this is what shonld be happening between them that can bind together the members of a ~eligious community. What they are to one another, in varying degrees of knowledge, affection, and effectiveness, God is to each of them. Their awareness of and action toward one another is in their presence to and action toward God. The two relationships ideally tend to be one. If relations with fellow religious in community reveal and make concrete the relation with God, the latter, as it is realized, purifies and strengthens the former. For to live deeply in faith and bope and charity is to know that relation to God constitutes one's being and qualifies all existence. The knowledge is not merely of the mind bnt the whole person, in the Biblical sense, and conditions all other relationships, afflicted with self-inter-est as they ~nay be. Realizing this, religions can under-stand what it means to find Christ in another, or to be Christ to another, because He has said and makes it come abont that "This--person and human community--is my Body." Yet he only does so within the limits of our psy-chological capacity and free choice to make such human commnnion a reality. That is why it is important for a young woman enter-ing upon religious life to understand that it is meant to fulfill bet as a woman quite as fully and selflessly as conjugal love and motherhood fulfill a married woman. Celibacy is a condition of life that means relationship as intense as that of marriage but more extensive, for its purpose or end is different. The sacramental community of marriage propagates and nurtures, within the family, the kingdom of God, while the sacramental commnnity of celibate men or women witnesses and ministers to the ÷ ÷ ÷ Women's R~tigious Li]e VOLUME 30, 1971 ÷ ÷ + Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 572 kingdom in its universal extension. But to accomplish this end the celibate woman must realize her capacities as does the married woman, and for both the fulfillment must come through commtmion with other human beings. To be what God intends her to be to man, any woman must exercise fully her power of creative love. If the woman dedicated to Christ were to be denied this, God would not be just. She undoubtedly denies herself the joy, the comfort, the strength of marital union; but she in no way denies herself womanhood. In her, then, passion must become whole, purified, and fruitful in her total surrender to Jesus Christ and in the human loves such dedication implies--love of such single-heartedness that it demands of her the devotion and selflessness that a husband and children require. And this love in her, too, is a receptivity to the strength and life that another can give in friendship. For in the life-begetting love that is the spirit of a woman, nothing can be lost or repressed. The reality of her sex, the psychology of her love, ;~re not lessened or transcended, but snbsulned in the comprehensive, effec-tive tenderness and devotion she is free to offer others. This increased and extended womanly power is the meaning of virginity. It is a power of love that does not fear, for the power is from and fruitful in God. It manifests itself, further, in ways that make celibate COllllnuual life, among equals and tinder authority, more difficult for a woman than is tile natural communal life of the family~that is, in certain ways. By natnre, a woman is receptive in human relationship, rather than aggressive; open to receive all another has to.give and desirous of giving in turn where she can be received. For a wife and mother, these qualities fulfill her when family life is normal. For a religious, when this openness and freedom are inhibited for any reason--lack of genuine comnumication or loss of self-confidence--she suffers iso-lation and can hardly relate even to one other. So com-nlunity is lost. It happens not infi'eqnently, for even while we know that we cannot live except in response to one another, we do not in any human community readily live in full responsibility for one another. That costs, and the price is oneself. To be responsible for another is to invite his pain to oneself and to accept the terms of his love, which can appear not as love but as self-defense or even aver-sion. It is to respect one another's freedom and integrity with something of the respect in which God holds us, knowing us wholly. Awareness that God's action comes in all the ways we react to one another can be traumatic and hard to accept, but can deepen faith not only in God but in the other person as well; then growth in grace is the same reality as growth in a human bond. When this identification of God's action with the action of one's sisters extends itseff in very ~nany relations in a religious community, its bonds are born at once of grace and human needs, ful-fillment, and suffering. This is the degree to which nature and grace, personal and communal fulfillment are one. Granted, it is for the most part achieved in the desire that it be so, always imperlectly in fact. But to believe that it is possible is the substance of hope, which "knows what it believes is true." Further, the bonds that unite a religious community in this way are the strict measure of the effectiveness of its apostolic service. Only insofar as the members liberate, have compassion for, and love one another can they be redemptive in their relations with others. It is as if the co~nmunity were the fruit of each member's relation to Christ, extending itself to others, just as the union of a man and woman in marriage bears fruit in the commu-nity of the family. But this creative power a woman has is love that does not grasp its object, as zeal and desire can make her do. It is the difference, in her human relation and apostolic witness and service, between a self-motivated determina-tion and a peaceful confident waiting for God's discovery in her and through her. A woman always wonders, with joy that does not obsct~re pain, at the life God brings forth in her; so this power of the life of pure faith that is virginity awakens her wonder. And that is lost when she reaches ot~t to take what she was made to receive, in discovery. Nor can the celibate woman depend, as can a married woman, upon another's singular love to support and in-spire her; hence, her radical solitude. She knows, in each human bond, that she is one of many whose relation to anotl~er reveals and re-creates that person. Making no exclusive claim, she acts with regard to another in the knowledge that any creative result will be the fruit of union with .]est~s Christ: t~ltimately His action, not her own, and this breeds a diffidence and restraint that re-spects the other's freedom and does not presume. A woman instictively knows, perhaps, that her latent power does not lie in the project and plan, in the self-confidence that acts without allowing hindrance; these are the characteristic roles of man, who rules the earth. A woman's power lies in re-creating persons, through suffer-ing what they bring to her, through freeing them from fear that they do not suffice for themselves and others. But it lies as well in the sensitivity and personal dimen-÷ + ÷ Women's VOLUME 30, 1971 573 sion she can bring to leadership and service in public actiou and institutional structures. Whatever bet role, in private and public life, as a woman is herself free, she supports and restores others. The liberation each achieves is really received, as creative grace or gift from God, through this hnman interaction. This kind of relationship is woman's natural fertility, and it matters little, so long as she is faithful, whether she realizes it through union, with a single man or as vowed solely to Jesus Christ. She must inevitably realize it in nnion with human beings--in free and unselfish love for another. But, united by vow to Jesus Christ, she is fruit-ful in darkness of faith, in freedom that does not kuow itself, and in love that cannot see what it creates. In a celibate life she cannot hold any child of her own beget-ting. III ÷ ÷ Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 574 Such considerations, theoretical as they may seem, lead to certain conclusions regardiug the structure of religious life. If this relationship of a celibate woman to Jesus Christ, realized in and determined by her relationsMp to her companions in comnmnity, is the absolute factor of religions life, then the forms and conditions of that life are wholly relative to it. N6ne of them are the end or essence of religious consecration; a woman does not give herself over to a community, nor to a way of life, nor to an apostolate. She gives /lerself to Jesus Christ in an extension and intensification of the relation of faith and hope and love in wbicl~ baptis.m established her. She is simply converted, or turned to Him wholly, in the grow-ing experience of that relationship and, like any other woman, must, if she is to be what God intends her to be, realize it at the greatest possible depth in a human com-munity. The latter, in fact, results from the relationship. That it demands a ministry of service and witness is as natural as that marriage demands of a wo~nan child-bearing and nurturing of a family. If human relatiouship and free-dora to serve as she can according to her abilities do not develop her, she can be ;i. detriment to strong communal life rather than a vital member. The natural, human, and personal dimensions of her life are not simply the base for supernatural dedication; the two are the same, when a person is sonnd and whole of body and spirit. It is out of place, then, to orientate discussion of com-munal authority, poverty, and service from the determi-nation to safeguard strnctnres--valid as they were in their origins--or values which are simply asking for new expression. An absolute end will always require certain conditions; this personal and communal relationship to .Jesus Christ demands the most stringent ones. In the family, the conditions are determined by nature: "witness, within the single dimension of a constant natnral group, to the God-man relationship, incarnated in this family in a singular time and place. Its creative, redemp-tive, and unitive acts will procreate the hufiaan and Chris-tian communities and, given man's frailty, its continuity needs guarantee and safeguard. The marriage contract is taken before and within the existing commnnity. Paren-tal authority is all-embracing in the rearing of children, and life style is highly concentrated and uniform--allow-ing for contemporary developments to the contrary. The limits of interdependence and natnral responsibilities condition freedom in day-to-day living, which has as its end the maturing of children to independence. But the conditions of celibate commnnal living are altogether different. The Incarnation of Christ i,a reli-gious commnnity is a continuing celebration of Eucha-rist: of thanksgiving that we are here together, who have come to witness to the mystery of Jesns Christ. The grace of a con~munity's sacramental value for the world is the graciousness of a Savior. More simply, perhaps, it is the manifest joy of meeting, between friends, whose presence to one another is what matters. From the start they are, or need to be, adnlts, capable of a life commitment and creative human bonds. What is absolutely necessary to the life of snch a com-munity is that the forms of communal living, of govern-ment, of anthority and responsibility, of personal and comnlunal poverty, and of apostolic service are conducive to each individual's realization of her relationship to Christ in her companions. There is no dichotomy be-tween personal and communal needs; they are one, when recognized in this context. The difficulties and suffering that attend responsibility for one another in such rela-tionship are a deeper asceticism than self-imposed forms of penance and prayer may be, for they demand thor-ough self-abnegation. Even the external practices of commnnity life, with the self-denial they entail, do not guarantee the experience of community unless they are informed by this experience of knowing and being known, in the way God knows and loves, by some few, or even one, of a religious woman's companions. The value of any given form, strnctnre, or practice is strictly determined by its contribution to the context in which each sister can freely and responsibly grow in the relationship to Christ that constitutes her life, determines her service, and produces community with her fellow reli-gious. Ironically, this relationship, spoken of as the spirit-ual life, is the growth in holiness that has been tradition- + + + Women's Religious Li[e VOLUME 30, 1971 575 + .4. Sister Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ally held as the first end of the vows. But its psychological implications in the context of commnnal living and per-sonal fnlfillment need to be explored. It is there we can discover the common ground from which person-oriented' and commnnity-oriented concepts spring. This is not to say that the psychological needs and experiences of different generations are the same. But they can be quite different and still depend on the same values; the point is that legislation will not safeguard the commnnal values nor guarantee the personal realization here discnssed. The freedom of life style and respect for diversity of experience that such realization demands will l)e secnred by individuals, regardless of legislation that frustrates their action, and they will not consider them-selves disrespectful of authority in the taking. For their integrity and peace may, nnder certain circnmstances, de- But more important, the multidimensional natnre of the religions comnnmity demands it. Unlike the family, its end is a witness to the universality and fnlfillment of the kingdom of Christ in service that extends rather than concentrates itself. Becat,se it resnlts from the self-gift of responsible adtdts, acting nnder personal charisms, and continuing life together in daily voluntary offering, its structnre cannot be predetermined by traditions, nor can its govermnent be essentially hierarchical. To say that it is ecclesial is simply to reiterate the charismatic and communal aspects that it draws from the Church to which it is a witness. The hierarchical aspect is secondary to this, as it was in the early Chnrch. Yet it is nnlikely that strict collegiality rnled the early Christians who, even in communal living, needed strong leadership. The authority and collegiality are one in a community, when honest and educated responsibility govern its members. The evolution of the Christian com-munity and of religious commnnities, through many ages of dependence on authority, demands now much more trnst in the capacity of those in community to govern themselves. But the trust can come only from a mutual confidence that they ,~re persons committed in a common endeavor to witness to .Jesus Christ and to serve His peo-ple. The contract it religious makes by her vows is to God within this total ecclesial commnnity. It is also within a given religious community insofar as that gronp relates to the end of the Church. In a transitional age such as this one, the service a community gives within the Church must evolve even as the Chnrch's relation to the world is evolving. Hence, the evolntionary quality of any commu-nity, as the experience of its members and demands of its service cause it to change and renew itself. Flexibility of form and diversity of experience, now leadir;g to even freer forms and more varied services, actually guarantee the continuity of a religious community, if it is strong enough to change and grow within without loss of unity. Responsibility for that unity rests on each one, facing the valid and very different experience of .others with whom she lives. Past and present and future experience must he encompassed somehow, so that corn,non values and differing concepts can continue to grow together. Then varieties of life style need not threaten the unity. Latitude of practice in manner of dress, of government, of prayer life can actually guarantee the unity if the freedom allowed is not considered a concession to some kind of self-interest, or independence from the whole. Freedom then is not merely a means or condition, but an end: a liberty of spirit necessary for trne ~inity of persons in God. And authority is ,a means to it, especially when exercised by a woman. For the ultimate purpose of her power ls to assist others to the self-value that makes obedience acceptable to God. Then exercise of authority is more a ministry than a function, and can become the most creative of hnman acts and the most self-effacing. It is a woman's unique imaging of the action of God, which gives autonomy while it creates and in governance gnar-antees freedom. As in other apparent conflicts between natural and su-pernatural values, integration is the desired end. Author-ity and freedom, like celibacy and love, complement each other; the second is the fruit of the first. Whether experi-enced in counsel from one in an office of ministry, or sim-ply in friendship, the human relationship, grounded in Jesus Christ, is the sine qua non of religious community. This kind of bum:m relationship, with or without for-realities of office, can help religious women in community to come to a deeper realization of their vows. It estab-lishes obedience more firmly in the Spirit throt.,gh the depth of this htm~an dimension; it makes actual poverty the condition for simplicity of life and poverty of spirit in human relation; and celibacy, the condition of life that allows for the fullness of charity. Women's Religious Lile VOLUME ~0, 1971 577 BARBARA DENT The Mediocrity Challenge ÷ ÷ ÷ Mrs. Barbara Dent lives at 17 Piago Rd.; Clande-lands; Hamilton, New Zealand. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS God calls each human being in a unique way to come to Him. This unique way ~s that particular person's individual vocation. The quality and degree of his identi-fication with it is the measure of his powers of love, of his capacity for self-giving. Christianity has never pretended that to conform perfectly with a God-given vocation was easy. Our Lord Himself warned that anyone who compromised was not worthy of the kingdom of heaven. The foolish virgins were shut out. So was the guest without a wedding gar-ment. The man busy filling his barns died that very night under unfortunate circumstances. There was no time for a disciple to go back and bury his dead. The un-forgiving servant was "handed over to the torturers till be should pay all his debt." The house built on sand collapsed in ruins. It is human nature to hear God's call (for, after all, that is why he gave us ears), but it is also human nature to become so busy counting the possible cost that we answer with only a half-hearted murmur: "I may come--prob-ably tomorrow," or perhaps refuse: "I'm busy now for an indefinite period. Call again later." Even those who respond generously and enthusiasti-cally--" As Jesus was walking on from there he saw a man named Matthew sitting by the custom house, and he said to him, 'Follow me.' And he got up and followed him" (Mt 9:9)--seldom improve on that initial enthusiasm or even manage to maintain it. In the first fervor of dedi-cation, they are sincerely convinced that they want to make the total response, say the uncompromising yes; yet they often fail to continue through the years without surrounding that initial gift with reservations and elaborate systems of self-protection. They want to give, but their flawed human nature, played upon by the devil, forces them into mediocrity. In all the current controversy about the need and value of consecrated celibacy, the human urge to com-promise, to have one's cake and eat it too, plays its part. The argument for self-fulfillment sometimes forgets that any human being's ultimate fidfillment is in God, and therefore that whatever way of life aims straightest at God and is therefore that person's true vocation is also most designed to complete him as an individual: "The Church knows that only God, whom she serves, meets the deep-est longings of the human heart, which is never fully satisfied by what this world has to offer" (Church Today, 41). Human living provides innumerable routes to God, all of which can be the means of tmion with Christ; yet "sin has diminished man, blocking his path to fulfill-merit" (ibid. 13), and "a monumental struggle against the powers of darkness pervades the whole history of man" (ibid. 37). An element in tiffs struggle is that divided purpose which seeks to evade the .consequences of total commit-ment, and in the process often develops compromise into a fine art. However fashions change, whatever way-out forms theological speculations adopt, the call of Christ to each individual person remains the same, and its de-mand total. A true response to this call, whatever mode of life it involves, must lead to affirming with St. Paul: "For me, to live. is Christ." "The Lord is the goal of human history, the focal point of the longings of history and of civilization, the centre of the human race, the joy of every heart, and the answer to all its yearn!ngs" (ibid., 45). This is a fact of life, whatever the individual's voca-tion, celibate or married. There can be no essential self-fulfillment apart from Christ. We discover our true selves as we become those particular extensions of His incarna-tion tlmt He has chosen us to be. Any apparent fulfill-ment that occurs in alienation from Christ is spurions and dependent upon factors that chance can shatter, and t,st, ally does. Leaving aside the question of whether Christ and hu-manity are better served by a celibate or married clergy, let us look at the state of celibacy itself, whether in priest, religious, or lay person, male or female, and assess some of the ways in which it is subject to the mediocrity chal-lenge. No one can realize the full implications of the promise or vow of celibacy at the time of making it (lust as no marriage parmer can, on his wedding day, assess the im-plications of his vows). The vow is made as the formal seal of the gift of one's whole self and life to Christ in response to His call. ÷ ÷ 4- Mediocrity = VOLUME 30, 1971 579 + ÷ 4. Barbara Dent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 580 It is in the subsequent living of the vow that its impli-cations are gradually made clear, so that one either as-sents more and mote deeply to them, relying more and more fully npon grace, or withdraws,' aghast, and com-promises, giving in before thb mediocrity challenge. Consecrated celibacy is a way of life, and a vocation, freely chosen as a positive good because intuited as one's personal rotate to God ordained by Him. The service of God and the service of humanity are inseparable. There- [ore, to travel courageously along this route for love of God is also to love one's neighbor. To be consecrated as a celibate is to become in a publicly recognized way Christ's man, Christ's woman, pledged to participate in the Savior's redemptive work, answering the call to total love for the sake of others in an all-embracive sense. In other words, the consecrated celibate is directly dedicated to the building tip of Christ's kingdom without deviation or withdrawal, to the bringing forth of spiritual children for God in eternity, instead of children of the ttesh for this world. Any route to God is straight and narrow with Calvary an inseparable part of it. The married state is no easier than the celibate state i[ it is entered into as one's pe-culiar and God-indicated route to Him. Of course this is often not the case, whereas the celibate's choice is usually a deliberate and conscious dedication to Christ first and foremost. The total love that consecrated celibacy demands is in-carnated in Christ Himself, and only in Christ. It can ex-press itself through human lives when infused into them as an extension of the divine life itself, those living wa-ters, that indwelling of the Trinity, that our Lord prom-ised to those who love Him. It means a passionate, un-compromising involvement of the whole self with the whole self of the personal, living, triumphant yet glori-ously wounded risen Lord. This entails becoming "a fragrant offering and a sacri-fice to God" (Eph 5:2) because incorporated into the sacrificial love-offering of the Son, made for the sake of humanity, to the greater glory of the Father. Human nature, disintegrated and flawed as it is, nat-urally fears such complete involvement with both God and man. We want to preserve intact the ego with all its intra-venous systems for feeding self-satisfaction and self-pres-ervation. We cannot help fearing and repelling such an invasion of the Other, although without it the enchained ego cannot be released into the freedom of the sons of God. We tare prisoners who have become dependent upon the enclosure of our cell walls for our sense of security. Just :is the trumpet blast shattered the walls of Jericho, so would the blowing of the Holy Spirit upon our pitiful ramparts raze them finally--if we let it: "For he bursts the gates of bronze and shatters the iron bars" (Ps 106:16). We recoil from even the thought of encouraging such invasion. The ego is certain it would mean disaster. Its instinct for preservation rebels against the dissolution of its barriers. Such fears are involuntary. Tbey are part of the com-plex defense mechanism against God that is I~orn with us in onr flawed human nature. We cannot help our myopic way of looking at things, our instinctive reaching out for half-truths, our intense anxiety at being taken over by God, our dread of Him as an alien, destructive force instead of our loving, eternal Father. What is required of ns is the calm recognition of all such systems of evasion, and the willed construction in the power of divine grace of contrary systems of encour-agement. We are called upon by God to recognize the insidious nature of the temptation to mediocrity, of the urge to compromise. We have to counter it by persistent prayer for His help, by the will to give and receive all, and by actions which express that will: I believe nothing can happen that will outweigh the su-preme adwlntage of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For him I have accepted the loss of everything, and I look on everything as so much rubbish if only I can have Christ and be given a place in him . All I want is to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and to share his sufferings by reproducing the pattern of his death (Phil 3:8,10). This must be what we consciously will in opposition to our involuntary desires and schemings to retain our walls, to refuse "the loss of everything." The temptation to mediocrity is essentially the tempta-tion to choose comfort. It is a special danger to the celi-bate whose vows and way of life can insulate him lrom involvement with others, from all those battering, in-vigorating, stress-provoking, exacerbating and fecundat-ing fluctnations of give and take that are inseparable from married and family life. It is necessary to remember always that consecrated celibacy has been chosen not in order to evade or be spared these, but to facilitate an even wider, deeper, and more selfless involvement with the human family itself. It should lead not to a peaceful withdrawal and the COln-forts of a serene bacbelorbood or spinsterdom, but to an nnending and painfnl generation and parturition of children for the kingdom of heaven: My children, I must go through the pain of giving birth to you all over again, until Christ is formed inyou (Gal 4:19). The mystery is Christ among you, your hope of glory . It is ÷ Mediocrity VOLUME 30, !971 581 4" + + Barbara Dent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 582 for this I struggle wearily on, helped only by his power driving me irresistibly (Col 1:27,29). Like a mother feeding and looking after her own children, we felt so devoted and protective towards you, and had come to love you so much, that we were eager to hand over to you not only the Good News but our whole lives as well (1 Thes 2:8). The danger of celibacy is not sexual pressure building up to possible transgression level, but tile evasion of tension, stress, and battles in favor of ~omfort and safety. This can lead to petrification, through repression or cir-cumvention, of a person's whole affective powers. The personality becomes sterile, dehydrated, protected by a complex system of evasions and compromise, the real person who was meant to be reborn into Christ through total dedication and "undivided attention to the Lord" (! Cor 7:35) gone to earth from sheer lack of encourage-ment. Alternatively, the affective powers, instead of being stifled, may be diverted. Theu the celibate's life and pas-sion become centred on snbstitutes--liturgical niceties,. research, art, administration, power, antiqnes, aesthetics, sport, animals, relatives, or one other particular person. They may even become fixated on some such mundane and irreligious activity (if lie is a secular priest, for ex-ample, and free to follow it) as golf, racing, or dog-breed-ing. Or his passion may become raising monuments ostensibly to the glory of C, od but perhaps more to per-petnate his own memory (in lieu of sons and daughters of the flesh) if all hidden motives were made plain. The temptations to compromise over the demands of total love are ~nany and dangerous. The celibate is perhaps more open to them than the person whose vocation is marriage. In marriage, if it is a dedicated Christian one, total love is also demanded, but its channel is tile mar-riage partner, there in the flesh, obvious, defined and inescapable. For the celibate tile channel, being the hu-man family loved and served in, for, and by means of Christ, is much more easily mistaken, or silted up, or wrongly labeled, or simply ignored just because it is so ubi(jtfitous. The htunan family means not some nebulous abstract, but real persons whose abrasive presence anti perpetual demands cannot, and are not meant to be, evaded. In all cases it is people, individuals, persons, actnal living, pal-pitating entities who cannot be avoided, and who must be made contact with in some fructifying way if Christ is to be served and honored, if celibate love is to be fnl-filled. The whole of humanity is one organism, and this orga-nism is the Body of Christ in the process of being incar-nated. Through it we are meant to confer the sacrament of love upon one another. Through it we can, on the con-trary, by hate and sin shut off ourselves and others from participating in this sacrament of love. The consecrated celibate has cbosen by his vow to be a means of conferring the sacrament of love upon others. His role is to be a visible, actual sign that God's tender care and solicitous yearning for us is present among us, to be a reservoir of the living waters laid up in human hearts. The temptation to mediocrity suggests that this reser-voir be turned into a stagnant lake of sel~-enclosure by blocking off the Ebannels by which God's love pours into it and the outlets that are meant to pour it out again upon others. In time the whole place becomes "a fen of stagnant waters," with the affective powers choked: "They have abandoned me, the fountain of living waters, only to dig cisterns for themselves, leaky cisterns, that hokl no water" (Jer 2:13). To dig a cistern for oneself means to construct it with the intention of not sharing it with others. One form the temptation takes is that of doubts about the value of celibacy itself together with all kinds of rationalizations concerning the importance of human sexual relationships and of the need to experience them in order to be a whole person, in order even to be able to tmderstand others. Excuses are readily found for reading the kinds of books, watching the kinds of films, and encouraging the kinds of conversations that titillate and provide disguised --and not so disguised--sexual enjoyments.Iustifiable and necessary reverence for sex and acknowledgement 'of its power and wide ramifications give way to obsessive interest in its minutiae and manner of functioning. When snch a mental invasion has been encot, raged, the borderline between legitimate attainment of information and committing adnltery in one's heart has become blurred. The whole ideal of consecrated celibacy is in danger of becoming meaningless, and it will probably not be long before convincing excnses are found to abandon it. Also evident where mediocrity threatens is the "one for you, and one for me" trading mentality. The celibate considers that in .return for his gift of himself to God, God owes him certain satisfactions, comforts, consolations, snccesses, recognitions, rewards. If he does not get what he believes is his due he becomes sour, bitter, self-pitying, cynical, savagely critical (perhaps of the Chnrch as "a juridical institution"). He is a disappointed man who feels he has not been wdued and recognized at his true worth, and someone or something must be made to suffer for it. ÷ 4- ÷ /tlediocrity VOLUME 30, 1971 Barbara Dent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 584 He has forgotten that the initial total gift of self to God was a form of interchange by which he accepted in return, and unquestioningly, whatever God chose to give him. Total love means embracing what God gives, and lets happen as the token of His loving kindness and the means of both one's salvation and sanctification, and also one's redemptive work for others. There is no barter involved. God gives. We accept, welcome, absorb, in faith and loving trust. There can be heroism here, unavoidable majesty of selflessness that can register on the ego as its contrary-- humiliation, defeat, squirming self-seeking. God's gifts and their effects are often paradoxical, and recognized as good qnly by means of faith. The "one for you, one for me" temptation is aimed at making one repndiate or avoid suffering and that death o~ self, that burying of the seed in the dark tomb of the earth fi'om which alone can emerge the risen self in the power of Christ's own Resurrection, and hence the crown-ing of total love. It is well to remember that "God's gift was not a spirit of timidity, but the Spirit of power, and love, and self-control" (2 Tim 1:7). There is also the temptation to succumb to mediocrity in personal relationships, avoiding intimacy and the pain of self-revelation and of receiving the confessions and love of others. In such relationships honesty is avoided in favor of polite half-trnths, soothing evasions, and surface agreements, these being rationalized as kindness or even Christian charity. Those blinding moments of truth in which we acknowledge how we use others (and they us), how we are run by our mechanisms of self-interest by which we feed secretly on those we profess to love most sincerely, are repndiated. Instead are chosen the sly pre-varications that assure us we are good mixers and not the type to give offense to anyone, and that this is the best way to he. Mediocrity can also be succumbed to in our relation-ship with ourselves. We have to love ourselves as God loves us, but this does not mean self-indulgently excusing ourselves. Rather it involves a pitiless self-honesty in which we pray fervently for the grace to face ourselves as we are. "My God, beware of Philip, else he will betray yon," prayed St. Philip Neri; and St. Paul saw with searing clarity his inability to do the good that he wanted to do unless he relied entirely upon the "grace of God." Consecrated celibacy with its vocation to total love means there can be no mediocrity regarding self-knowl-edge. If the truth that God offers, together with the grace to bear it, is accepted when and how He offers it, the ntmost interior humiliation is inevitable. Christ sets out to invade and permeate the life and the person dedicated to Him, and this means progressive insight into the un-christed self down to its demon-haunted depths. These depths have to be cleansed in what has aptly been called the "passive purgations," to' submit to which requires both a torrent of grace and heroic courage. It means the painful relinquishment of all masks, all comforting illusions, all evasions of reality, all dramas, all role-playing. Christ is truth. He is also light. Where He is, lies and darkness cannot also be; yet the unredeemed per-sonality is steeped in these. Total love becomes a reality only when heroic courage has refused the temptation to mediocrity in one's relation with onself, to choose instead Christ's invasion and powers of transformation at what-ever cost to oneself: If any man come to me without hating his father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, yes and his own life too, he cannot be my disciple. Anyone who does not carry his cross and come after me cannot be my disciple (Lk 14:26-7). The mediocrity temptation also presents itseff as one to self-cosseting. Having renounced all the comforts of home life and the consolations of marriage, one has a right to pamper oneself a little here and there by way of compensation. There are legitimate pleasures, necessary relaxations, prudent concessions to one's own acknowl-edged weaknesses. The danger is when these are indulged in as a result of self-pity or a desire to make up to oneself for rennnciations once made but now secretly hankeretl after or envied in others. In other words, when we seek substitnte satisfactions for what is denied to us because of celibacy and the vocation to total love, we are compro-mising with that vocation. An old name for mediocrity is acedia, or spiritnal sloth. There is an old-fashioned ring about these terms which inclines some to dismiss them and what they stand for as irrelevant to modern life and post-Vatican II spiritnality. Yet Vatican II documents themselves affirm the ancient call to total love, and hence to a war against all forms of mediocrity: The followers of Christ are called by God, not according to their accomplishments, but according to his own purpose and grace . All the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity (Church, 40). Hence the more ardently they unite themselves to Christ through a self-surrender involving their entire lives, the more vigorous becomes the life of the Church and the more abun-dantly her apostolate bears fruit (Religious Life, 1). Through virginity or celibacy observed for the sake of the kingdom of heaven, priests are consecrated to Christ in a new and distinguished way. They more easily hold fast to him with undivided heart. They more freely devote themselves in him 4- ÷ Mediocrity "VOLUME 30, 3.971 585 and through him to the service of God and man. They more readily minister to his kingdom and to the work of heavenly regeneration, and thus become more apt to exercise paternity in Christ, and do so to a greater extent (Priests, 16). Consecrated celibacy as a route to God can never be-come out of date because Christ will always remain the way, the truth, and the life, and intimate union with Him will always be a human being's highest form of fulfillment. The vocation to celibacy is a vocation to direct embrace-ment with the Bridegroom for the sake of the kingdom He became incarnate to establish. Those called to such a vocation are called also to total love of God and man and to an heroic battle against all temptations to mediocrity. God provides with the vocation all the graces necessary to endure and defeat these temptations, even when it ap-pears subjectively that failure is all that is achieved: 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, and that the pleas of the saints expressed by the Spirit are according to the mind of God. We know that by turning everything to their good God co-operates with all those who love him, with all those that he has called according to his purpose. They are the ones he chose specially long ago and intended to become true images of his Son, so that his Son might be the eldest of many brothers. He called those intended for this; those he called he justified, and with those he justified he shared his glory (Rm 8:28-30). Barbara Dent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 586 SISTER MARY SERAPHIM, P.C.P.A. Living Creatively under Stress Stress, tensions, pressnres all tug and pull at ns day in and day out. We get up in the morning with a sense of having spent the whole night rnnning and getting no-where. Urgency clogs our steps. Clocks tick inexorably at us, staring clown from walls, peering up from dash boards, glowing in the clark on our wrists. Appointments, assignments, schedtdes rtde our clay and haunt our nights. Even when we manage to salvage a 15it of "free time," we spend it worrying whether we could not put it to more profitable use. This phenomenon of twentieth century living has provoked much discussion lately. Techniques for relaxing, drugs to tranquillize our shattered nervous system, systems of yoga and zen to lift us out of the present into a timeless nirvana glnt the common market. Despite this proliferation, I offer a few more insights, this time based on the experience of cloistered contemplative liv-ing, which might be of interest and assistance to us Chris-tians of pressurized society. Yon may have noticed that I said "us" of pressurized society, for cloistered ntms are just as apt to be canght in the bind of too "nauchwork" and not "enonghtime" as the rest of the human race. How then can a person who senses that life is meant for something more than just "to get things clone" work creatively within this fleeting thing called time? How can we escape the pressure to "do" in order to simply "be"? As most of ns have already discovered tension results, not from all the demands made upon us frorrtowithout, bnt from the pressures we generate w~thm Stress-~s not an evil in itself. It actually constitutes ~-positive good when it serves as a prod to move us to higher achieve-merits. The meeting and surmounting of difficulties is the normal process which leads to maturity. Most of the great inventions of the world would not have been discovered 4- 4- + Sister M. Sera-phim, P.C.P.A., is a member of Sancta Clara Monastery; 4200 Market Ave-nue N.; Canton, Ohio 44714. VOLUME 30, 1971 587 Sister Seraphim REVIEW FOR RE/I~II00S 588 unless there had been a need to overcome some inconven-ience or obstacle. Many of the great masterpieces of art, literature, and music might never have been executed had not the artist been forced by some circumstance to plumb the depth of his genius. Stress and difficulties have their positive side then; and we should not expect them to be totally absent from our lives, any more than we should, as Christians, expect the cross hot to cast its shadow across our days. The handling of the problem of stress can be ap-proached from many angles, such as the psychological, the sociological, the anthropological. However, I propose to utilize a more theological dimension without overlook-ing the necessity of integrating theological ideals with practical psychological data. Supernature and Nature As we know, grace builds on nature. Supernature is simply a highly developed, highly gifted operation which has its seat in our natural faculties. To be in a position to insure steady spiritual growth our natural faculties must be in as good working order as possible. Much insistence is laid today on the necessity of healthful and happy climates in our religious houses. The human in the conse-crated man or woman must be given consideration so that the whole person progresses in holiness. We have shifted from an overemphasis on the divine and spiritual aspect of our religious life to an almost exaggerated con-cern with the mundane and bodily elements in our daily existence. The movement away from a purely spiritual concept of religion was a necessary one. If we divorce our soul from its intrinsic relationship with our body, we are in clanger of becoming split-level creatures. We would end in the neurotic condition of perpetually ascending and descend-ing the staircase between onr "higher" mode of living and our "lower" bodily state of existing. Afraid to remain on only the lower plane, yet unable to live perpetually on the higher one, we would literally live on the stairway--a most unnatural and unrestful state of affair!! Now that we have acknowledged that we must stand firmly rooted on the ground-level of our huma.nity if we are to stretch our branches high, we must beware of spending too mnch time mulching the soil and preparing the proper amount of water and sunshine. It is undenia-bly true that good environment contributes heavily to the full development of the human creature. Yet if most of us are honest we must recognize that the majority of persons realize their finest potential when facing adverse condi-tions. Furthermore we know that there exists nowhere on earth a paradise of idyllic situations. To look for it is useless or to try to develop it will prove fruitless. We could spend a lifetime looking for the perfect siti~ation in which we could become our true selves. Since such a solution to the problem of stress and tension is chimeri-cal, we might do well to accept our present situation with its good and its bad and try to work creatively within it. I submit that if we can order our inner (spiritual) life to fnnction harmoniously with our "outer" life, we will have reduced the stress and tension in our days to a minimum. We Are Not God First of all, let us humbly admit that we are not God. We do not know the complete plan for our own exist-ence, much less that of others or of society as a whole. Obliged to work with only partial knowledge, we are not responsible for the barmonions ordering of the universe. Although as Christians we do have a responsibility to each and everyone of our fellowmen, yet as finite crea-tures our personal response is not expected to reach all of tfiem directly. Much which goes on in the world cannot and even should not be solved by us personally. We are asked to do what lays before ns to the best of our ability, nothing more. Does this sound like mere selfishness? Or simply common sense? Actually it can become very uncommon sense when we view it in God's perspective. He has a plan and a work for each one of ns. He weighed it beforehand to meet our limited strength. He measured our capacities to make sure they were adequate for the task at band. He is very careful not to ask more of us than He knows we are able to do. Why should we strive against Him and demand that we take care of situations and solve problems which are beyond our scope? Humility can be a very restful virtue. It teaches us to recognize what we are and what we are not. With its clear vision, we see our talents an~.l we recognize our limita-tions. We learn to look up to God for strength and for wisdom. The bumble man goes peaceftilly about his as-signed job and usually is able to make a good success of it because be does not waste a lot of psychic energy attempt-ing to solve difficulties that are not his to solve. He leaves all that is beyond his immediate scope to God's provi-dence. This does not mean, however, that he does not care. On the contrary, the person who really lives in the faith of God's guiding hand in the nniverse will care more effectively than many others who become so caught up in their own plans for reforming the world that they see nothing but themselves. ÷ ÷ ÷ Living Creatively VOLUME 30, 19T1 589 + 4. 4. Sister Seraphim REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 590 Power and Splendor We cannot help becoming immersed to the point of being enmeshed by our everyday problems if we concen-trate all our attention only on them. If we permit our prayer life to consist merely of begging God's assistance for the project in hand, it will be difficult to rednce the problems involved to manageable size because we will have magnified them to the point where they and God are the only realities in the universe. Instead we might do well to devote a good portion of our personal prayer time to considering the magnificence of God as He is in Him-self. If even for a fleeting, breathtaking moment we sense the grandeur and greatness of this Being whom we ad-dress as our Father, a moral earthquake occurs in our portion of the Lord's vineyard. Problems and vexations sink nearly out of sight for the time being and the ground we stand on raises us startlingly near to the stars. Huge becomes tlm universe, immense the (limensions of God's activity and small, very small onr share in this cosmic pageant. Such an intuition does not destroy our appreciation of the little things of life but rather enables ns to see them in their proper perspective. In such a setting their true beauty and value shine forth. We are free to "be" among all these encompassing wonders for inwardly we have expanded to the degree where we now encompass them. We learn to support the "horizontal" with the "vertical." St. Benedict, it is said, once saw the whole universe in a single ray of light. "How conld a man see all creation in one glance?" asked St. Gregory in his Dialogues and he answered himself: "He who sees God sees all things in Him." Do you perceive how integrating such an attitude can be and how beneficial to us as human beings if we culti-vate it? Tensions and difficnlties we meet will not become too large for us to handle and even nse creatively. With our minds free and onr energies concentrated fully on the task at band, we will bring to our work fresh insights and profound wisdom. New sources of energy will be released as we meet new obstacles. Instead of mentally attempting it all ourselves, we will take it to the Lord whose strength we know is equal to the task. While laying the bnrden of worry at His feet, we will be enabled to stand light and free before Him. God will grow greater and greater in our estimation and our problems proportionately smaller. When we attack the difficult situation which cannot be avoided we will be able to experience the tug and pull of contrary tensions without being shattered or torn apart. We will move in the conscious awareness that a power greater than our owu is at work here. That power, that strength, is a Person. It is a Person whom we profoundly love and whose Presence is onr supreme joy: "The joy of the Lord is our strength." An-other way of expressing this phenomenon is to call it growth in contemplative awareness. ~te utilize the prob-lems of the "lower story" to call down the assets of the "tipper story" of onr nature. XYe grow in stature so as to live spiritnally in the midst of materialities. All of this requires time and . tension. Until tension enters onr lives, we feel no need to become more than what we are. Until we find ourselves under the pressure of more than we can do, we will not experience the necessity of throw-ing ourselves on our knees before our sovereign Lord and looking humbly to His greatness. When His aid is vonchsafed, we shonld remain humble enough to use it in the manner He intended. A marvelons freedom marks the man who knows, in the roots of his being, that he is only the custodian and dispenser of the creative energy of ahnighty God. This man appears to accomplish tremen-dous things with serene ease. We do not know for certain but can gness that in the depths of his spirit, this man kneels in constant and hnmble supplication before His Lord. Before the shrine of this overmastering Presence, lie knows himself as nothing. In the light of this over-whelming Love, he knows himself heloved. In the strength of such love, nothing is impossible. Hope is in-vincible. Hope The virtue of hope here manifests itself as the trnst to leave the past and the future in God's hands. If we strive to live only here and now, we can eliminate much of the artificial stress which stretches our days beyond the limits of their twenty-four bonrs. How often have we not wor-ried ourselves into a stew abont possibilities which never materialized? Again, how frequently have we not fretted ourselves thin over past events which nothing can change now? The hope which is strong enough to le~ve the p~st to God's mercy, the future to His providence, and the present to His wisdomis a marvelous help to relaxed and fruitfnl living. We do not develop such hope overnight. Indeed we need many "nights," often painfully dark, be-fore our hope is refined to snch perfection. If we can view the dit:ficulties created in ourselves by tensions as so many stepping stones to hope, we have begun to work creatively with one of the most fi'ustrating aspects of our lives. We would like to be persons who do ~lot feel tension, who do not experience nerves, to whom nothing is a serious threat. But the more we strive to deny the deadening effects of anxiety and nervonsness in ourselves, the worse it becomes. We are humiliated by the 4- 4- 4- Living Creatively VOLUME 30, 1971 + + + Sister Seraphim REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS 592 outward manifestations of our inner inadeqnacies. In-stead of humbly recognizing our human needs, we try even harder to suppress them. One (lay, however, we are forced to admit that we are practically "nnglned" and barely holding our sbattet~fd self togetber with rapidly weakening will power. Hopefully, such awareness occurs long before serious neurotic disturbances take over. We are still capable of being the master of our ship if we look to another to be the Captain. Quietly accepting the fact that tensions will wreck havoc with onr digestive or nervous or muscular system, we are in a position to work with them creatively. Reality recognized hecomes a pliable instrument in the hands of a thinking man. Reality unrecognized becomes a demon in the closet of the unconscions man. We need help to come to such recognition--God's help. He is the One who made us with these peculiar tendencies and weak-nesses. He Mone knows how ~'e are to work with them to accomplish His ends. Our task is not to augment ~the problem with useless imaginings. Tomorrow will bring its own problems., and its own solutions. Perhaps this interweaving of common sense and snper-natnral motives into a harmonious whole does not seem an extremely new or exciting solntion to. the problem of living creatively under stress. Yet it has proved a very workable one in the environment of the cloister. Few persons live in a situation so fraught with artificial ten-sions aud i,~grown perspectives as the cloistered nun. These dangers are what may be termed the "occupational hazards" of cloistered living. They are not reasons for dissolving cloisters, however! Almost any occupation, if it is worthwhile, carries with it certain hazards. The diffi-culties of living a celibate and consecrated life in the active religious orders are not valid reasons for doing away with religious life in the Church. Rather these very hazards can prove to be a most provocative challenge to yonng idealists. If we keep our vision broad and our feet steadfastly on ascending paths, the dangers will threaten bnt not overwhehn ns. Beauty One of the most closely allied natnral and snpernat-ural activities is the contemplation of beatlty. Beauty excites the noblest aspirations of human nature. On the natural plane, familiarity with beauty refines and purifies our sensitivities. We find in its contemplation a peculiar rest and contentment. Yet it rarely satiates. We forever bnnger for more. Onr thirst is ultimately for Beauty itself --the splendor of the undimnaed attractiveness of tbe Trinne God. God has placed in our souls a capacity for infinite loveliness. The passing beanties of this earth wound our sensibilities, with their constant fading and withering, instinctively we know that beauty is meant to last forever. To grow into a "see-er" of beauty is to de-velop a capacity for mystical contemplation. The hair-breadth line which separates them is easily and naturally crossed. If all human beings are made to respond to beauty, women are especially endowed with this reflective faculty. As Father Bernard H~ring remarks, "I think that women have a distinctive sense [or beauty in their spirituality. The great beauty of all created things consists in their being the language of a personal God" (Acting on the Word). Since women naturally "personalize" all the "things" they encounter, they spontaneonsly apprehend beauty as the speaking of the Beloved. The words may be mysterious but the Voice is well known. Development of our capacity for the appreciation of beauty does not reqnire special training. It only asks for time. Somehow we must learn to "take time for the good things of life." Instead of pressuring ourselves with a perpetual motion precept we should condition ourselves to moments of tranqnil stillness. We should strive to see time as primarily space in which to "be." Be what? Be ourselves. We discover who we are by becoming aware of our actions and reactions to persons, things, and events. If we foster the reaction of silent admiration before any source of loveliness, our contemplative self grows stronger. A new phenomenon unfolds within us. For a tiny moment there is silence--a quiet space in our spirit where we are nndistractedly absorbed in the immediacy of beauty. X,\re savor the loveliness of the moment and discover we are side by side, if not face to face, with eternal Beauty. If this quiet space within onr spirit is permitted to expand, it soon penetrates our exterior activity. Others become aware of a mysterious dimension in our personal-ity which attracts them. We exhibit a marked serenity and freedom. Whenever we find ourselves in situations of tension, we can more easily cope with them becanse of an inner strength fostered by habitually striving to integrate the transcendent with the mundane. This is not an unreal existence divorced from the concrete circumstances of our life. Rather it could very accurately be termed the "im-manent" level for we learn to penetrate to the deepest (and most beautiful) realities of all the surface phenom-ena we meet. Contemplative living is the result of striv-ing for h;fl)itual attentiveness to natural beauties. In the cloistered contemplative life, beauty plays an extremely important role. Much rethinking should be done in this area. Education to the appreciation of good art is of only minor ir.,portance. The more important 4- 4- 4- Living Creatively VOLUME 30, 1971 593 thrust should be towards the recognition of deeper and more lasting loveliness hidden in every atom of creation. The contemplative is a person who withdraws from the world only to view it more comprehensively. Such a one distances himself from worldly turmoil in order to pene-trate its inner significance. His should be a thoroughly optimistic, thoroughly Christian outlook. The fleetingness of beauty teaches him forcefully that man is only a pilgrim on earth. The infinite longing of his spirit for beauty proves to him the necessity of an everlasting Loveliness. Made for eternal splendors, finite man is forever restless in time. He longs for the repose of unchanging possession. Freed from the impossible task of finding complete fulfillment in the present situation, he experiences no false tensions. Set loose from the obsession that he must order the universe aright, he does not writhe in the stress of too little time and too much work. He pauses momentarily before the passing beauties of time and permits them to enkindle his spirit with the desire of everlasting splendors. Then freely, gaily he walks on, bearing the burdens of mankind but lightly for the joy of the promise set before him. 4- 4- 4- Sister Seraphim REVIEW FOR RELI{~IOUS 59,t CHRISTOPHER KIESLING, O.P. Celibacy, Friendship, and Prayer In recent decades, and especially since Vatican Council II, the potentialities of marriage for holiness and prayer have gained the attention of many Christians. Young peo-ple desirous of following Christ closely are less inclined to enter religious life or the priesthood. They are apt to choose a more adventurous following of Christ to holi-ness through the largely uncharted land of marriage. Many already living the celibate life wonder whether they have chosen the "better" way to holiness after all. In marriage they could have the natural fulfillment of their God-given sexuality and at the same time zealonsly follow Christ. Marriage, no doubt, complicates the following of Christ, but the history of the priesthood and religious life in the centuries of the Cht~rch's existence testifies that celibacy by. no means guarantees a Christlike life. Mar-riage, moreover, in daily care for spouse and children, provides many opportunities for growth in charity. As far as prayer is concerned, no intrinsic incompatibility exists between marriage and prayer; in fact, marriage offers many spurs to growth in prayer. The celibate life, on the other hand, certainly does not automatically produce a deep life of prayer. What, then, is the value of the celibate life for prayer? What potentialities for growth in prayer are found in celibacy? The question is not whether celibate life is better for prayer than married life, or the single state, or widow-hood. No attempt is being made here to discover possibil-ities for prayer in the celibate life superior to the possibil-ities in any other state of life. Each state of life has its own opportunities for growth in prayer, and any at-tempts to compare the opportunities of celibacy with those of any other state will always be limited and ulti-mately of little practical value. Comparisons fail because + ÷ Christopher Kies-ling, O.P., is a fac-ulty member of Aquinas Institute School of Theology in Dubuque, Iowa 52001. VOLUME 30, 1971 595 C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ,596 they imply some standard of judgment, for example, free-dom from family demands and concerns. In this perspec-tive, celibacy has an adwmtage over marriage in regard to prayer, for the celibate has more time free from family claims and few, if any, family responsibilities to occupy his thonghts. But another standard of jndgment may be awareness of the needs of others which prompts one to pray. By this norm, a husband or wife, a father or mother, has an advantage over the celibate, for the bonds of marriage and parenthood make oue especially sensitive to the needs of at least a few persons for whom one is inspired to pray. Comparisons fail also because generali-zations abont life are open to many concrete exceptions. In coutrast to the generalizations made above, some older married people have more time and freedom for prayer than celibates who are teaching, and some celibates are more sensitive to the needs of others tban some married people. So the concern here is not to prove that the celibate is in a better position to grow in prayer than the person who is in some other state of life. It is not even of con-cern whether the possibilities for prayer in the celibate life are unique to it. The aim is simply to explore the opportunities for prayer given in the celibate life, so that celibates may exploit them fully. The discernment and exploitation of the potentialities for prayer in other states of life is preferably done by those living in them. The question is not co~lceived, moreover, as a search for a reason why someone should.choose the celibate life or remain faithful to it. The inquiry is regarded, rather, as a help to those inclined or commited to celibacy, so that they may take advautage of the gift which God has given tbena or now offers them. The celibate life is not the product of reasoning. Celi-bates are a fact in the history of the Church up to this moment. These men and women have entered upon, and continue in, this way of life for many reasons of a per-sonal nature, rather than from any theoreti'cal ideas abont the valne of celibacy. Temperament, character for-mation, family life, environment, edu.cation, interests and talents, particular interpersonal relationships, and uniqne interior experiences explain their celibate lives. When initially inclined to this state of life, or after adopting it, they undoubtedly welcome theoretical ideas about its value to legitimize or justify their choice. But the motives for their choice are much more complex and deeply buried in individnal history than any rational justifications. The believing Christian, of conrse, sees a religious meaning in all these factors: they fall under the loving care of a provident God and constitute a divine vocation to the celibate life. That life is ultimately a charism, a gift, from God. Without His call realized in personal history, there is no authentically religious celibate life. The inspiration of the celibate life is the Holy Spirit calling one through one's personal history, not some ra-tional demonstration of the superiority of the celibate state over other states of life. Celibacy is a mysterious gift. The aim here, therefore, is to explore the potentialities for prayer in a state of life ,~hich many find God has already given to them, or which many feel God wishes to give to them. For the success of that God-given life, at whatever stage it is, the exploitation of its potentialities is imperative, and particularly its possibilities for growth in prayer. Having put one's hand to the plow (or having reached toward it), and perhaps even having pushed it partly across the field of life, one does not wish to be looking back to weigh the advantages of this state of life against those of another state; one wishes, rather, to get busy actualizing the potentialities for prayer in the life which God has already given or begnn. The potentialities of celibacy for growth in prayer may be seen as residing radically in celibacy's exclusion from one's life of an intimate companion such as one has in a marriage partner. The celibate may indeed have very close friends, bnt the closeness of friends is not the same as the intimacy of marriage. He will not have some one person with whom be shares, in mutual loyalty, a joint responsibility and care for the development of life, fam-ily, and the world in fulfillment of God's vocation to mankind. He will not have another person closely united to him in daily life to alleviate the loneliness which haunts human beings. He will not have someone at hand whose fidelity be can count on, with whom he can frankly talk over many of Iris worries, aspirations, and satisfac-tions, and in whose presence he can be himself, setting aside the masks he must wear and the roles he must play in business and society. Nor will he have some one person for whom he can create and build and provide, whom he can cherish and protect, knowing that his care and con-cern are welcomed and appreciated. And of course he will have no one with whom he can express all his powers of love, including the physical,t This description of what a wife provides for her hns-band may sound romantic rather than realistic, or indica-tive of neurotic needs in the husband. We do not wish to be romantic about what marriage provides. Marriage is fundamentally an arrangement for living in which man a These reflections are cast in terms of the male celibate because that is the experience which the author knows from the inside, so to speak. What is said, however, will be applicable, with appropriate "adjustments, to the celibate woman. + + + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 597 + + + C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 598 and woman can have the full natural development of their sexed humanity.2 Marriage, more6ver, is more likely to be successful and happy if the partners are not merely satisfying subjective needs by means of one another but, being somewhat matnre, secnre, and capable of standing on their own feet, are free to care for one another's welfare? What we wish to note by this description of what a wife provides for her husband is tbat his life is enriched by intimate companionship with another per-son. To say that in marriage one's life is enriched by an-other person does not mean that a marriage partner is a crutch for personal weaknesses or a pleasant bnt unim-portant trimming added to one's life. What the marriage partner provides is essential for personal matnrity. A common theme of contemporary psychology, psychiatry, and philosophy is that to become mature persons we mtlSt interact with other persons, and mnst even have some intimate relationships with others. 0nly through interaction with other persons, and through some inti-mate interactions, do we come to awareness of our own unique selves with our pecldilu" qnalities, good, bad, and indifferent. Only through such interaction do we learn to master our constructive and aggressive drives and direct them to personally and socially beneficial goals. Through interpersonal relationships we acquire that freedom of self-possession which is characteristic of man. So a mar-riage partner provides, not a supplement for personal inadequacies or for pleasanmess of life, but a comple-ment necessary for the achievement of personal maturity. Briefly, to be mature persons we need other persons in our lives and even some intinaacy with others. For most men and women this need is supplied largely, though not necessarily exclnsively, by naarriage. The celibate, how-ever, excludes marriage from his life and thereby ex-clndes the common means of developing personal matu-rity. Herein lies both the peril and the opportunity of the celibate life. If the celibate's potentialities for personal matm'ity are unfnlfilled, lie will become a dull non-en-tity, if not a disgruntled, nenrotic, nnltappy person. If these potentialities are not sublimated, he will be in-clined to abandon the celibate life for marriage. The celibate must have other persons in his life, even inti-mately, if lie is to become a mature person and give himself its a full human being to God. Where will lie find these other persons? He will find them in friendships, first of all with God 2Sce Aron Krich with Sam Blum, "Marriage and the Mystique of Romancc," Redbook, November 1970, p. 123. sScc Erich Fromm, The Art o[ Loving (New York: Bantam, 1963), p. 17. the Father, His incarnate Son, Jesus Christ, and the Holy Spirit, and then also with other human beings. Intimate friendship with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit will be realized in prayer, and friendships with people will ma-ture in prayer. Thus celibacy, by excluding an intimate relationship with another person such as one has in mar-riage, yet leaving the need for personal relationships and even some intimacy, creates two great potentialities for prayer: the potentiality for prayer in the need to develop intimate friendship with the three divine Persons of the Trinity, and the potentiality for prayer in the need to develop friendships with people. Celibacy creates in one's life a vact~um which craves to be filled. For a mature personality, for happiness, and for a truly successful celi- I)ate life, the wise celibate fills this vacuum with intimate personal relations to the F:tther, Son, and Spirit and with hun~an friendships. Filling the vacut~m in these ways in-volves prayer. We will consider the possibility for growth in prayer first in relating personally to God and then in establish-ing friendships with people. A married man who, in the course of the day, has experienced failure, disappointment, or hnrt can un-ashamedly recount his tale of woe to his wife that evening. She can console him and make love with him and so ease his pain and restore his self-confidence, so that he can go on with life. The celibate has no person who can do all th;~t for him in the way a wife can. He is usually forced, therefore, if he wishes consolation and restoration, to seek them in prayer to God. The same holds true for the expression of joy. The married na~n can recount his suc-cesses and tritmiphs to his wife who will consider them as her own, share his happiness, and reward him, so to speak, by m:~king love with him. The celibate will have to turn to God in prayer for comparable satisfaction in the expression of joy. The married man does not have to make all serious decisions and bear their consequences alone. Fie makes many of them with his wife and can count on her loyal support in the conseqnences that fol-low. The celib;~te has no one who can so closely cooperate with him in making decisions and in living with their consequences. He will have to find help and support in God in prayer. All this tells us something about wh:lt prayer should be for the celibate. It should be an encounter with a per-sonal God, with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as per-sons. The celibate must cnltivate a sense of the person-hood of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. He cannot afford to allow God to remain some distant, impersonal force behind the universe and his life. The three divine Persons mnst become genuine persons for him to relate 4- 4- + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 ,'599 + + + C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 600 to, even as a man's wife is a person for him to relate to. Of course, the divine Persons are not persons in exactly the same sense as a human person. But°divine person-hood includes what is most essential to personhood as we know it in human beings. It includes a knowing,, loving, caring subject who can sympathize and can act to help oue. Important in the life of the celibate, then, is the cnltiva-tion of a sense of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as genuine persons in his life, as truly as a man's wife is a person in his life. This cultiw~tion will be accomplished " through various forms of prayer. It will be done by meditative reading of the Scriptures through which the celibate will discover and appreciate more and more how truly the Father, His incarnate Son, Jesus Christ, and Their Spirit are knowing, loving, sym-pathetic, caring, belpfnl persons relating themselves to men in their sorrows and joys. Tbrongb familiarity with the Scriptures, the celibate will disceru that he, iudividu-ally, with his good and bad qualities, is accepted uncondi-tioually by the Father, even as the prodigal son was by Iris f;ither, th:~t he is loved by Christ, even as the woman taken in adultery was, and that he is supported by the Holy Spirit who deigns to dwell in him as his constant companion. Also important for the. celibate is the practice of the presence of God, that is, the effort to be aware of, and respond to, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as personally present to him. Personal presence is not merely physical proximity. In regard to God~ it means not only that He is near the celib:lte to snstain his being and activity. It means also that be is in God's thoughts and affection. The practice of the presence of God, the heart of mental prayer, is awareness of God's personal presence and re-sponse to it by holding God in one's own thoughts and affection. Bnt we should be more precise and speak of the presence of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. The Chris-tian God is threefold in person. What must he cnltivated is awareness of, and response to, these three Persons pres-ent in one's life. Through various forms of prayer, the celibate mnst become as mt, tually personally present to the three divine Persons as a man is mntnally personally present to his wife, thougl~, of course, the former presence will always be in the obscurity of faith. Because the presence of the Trinity is realized only in faith, it is difficult to have a sense of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as genuine persons in one's life. Besides, the persons of the Trinity are not like hmnan persons: unlike a man's wife, they are not bodily beings, visihle, andible, tangible. They do not talk back to the celibate immedi-ately, as does a man's wife, bnt answer him only through his search into revelation, the signs of the times, and his own peculiar situation. Bnt through the humanity of Jesus, the personal being of God is clearly revealed; with-out question God understands and sympathizes with us in our miseries anti joys, anti He accepts us despite our limitations anti failings. Through communion with the person Jesus Christ, the celibate learns also to recognize the Father anti the Spirit as genuine persons in his life. Christ's presence in the Eucharist is a further help to the celibate in relating to God personally. The Son of God incarnate lays hold of bread and wine and trans-forms them so that they are no longer bread and wine, except in appearance, but Himself for men. Thereby He is personally present to the celibate not only spiritually, by thought and affection, but also concretely, spatially, and temporally (though through'the mediation of the appearances of the consecrated elements), as a man's wife is present to him. It remains only for the celibate to respond to this most intense anti full personal presence of God in Christ by sacramental communion or by a "visit" to Christ in the Eucharist. Foolish is the celibate who never turns to Christ in the Blessed Sacrament for conso-lation in sorrow or for the sharing of joy. On the part of God, Christ in the Eucharist is the most concrete realiza-tion of the presence of God in the celibate's life. Com-munion with Christ in the Sacrament is analogous to the commnnion which a husband has with his wife as they embrace. It may be objected that the Christian married man also lntlst develop a sense of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as krxowing, loving, and caring persons in his life if he is to progress in holiness and prayer. There are times when lie will not have his wife at hand to snpport him anti share with him; anti even when she is at hand, there are needs and experiences which he cannot fully share with her, as mnch as lie may try and she may be willing. On these occasions lie must turn to Father, Son, anti Holy Spirit in prayer. It is even more obvious that the single man and the widower also are invited to relate to the Father, Son, anti Holy Spirit as genuine persons in their lives. In answer it may be said that it makes no difference to the celibate if others are called to an intimate friendship in prayer with the three divine Persons. hnportant for the celibate is the fact that, in Go'd's gift to him of celi-bacy, there is a great potentiality for prayer opened tip to him. Whether or not others have a similar potentiality for prayer is not nearly :is important as his making the most of the potentiality which has been given to him. Yet the celibate's situation is different from most other men's. The married man does have a wife in whom lie + + + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 601 + ÷ + C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 602 can often and at least partially fulfill his need for inti-mate personal relationship. The single man can marry. The widower, if his faith is vigorous and vivid, can enjoy the spiritual presence of his wife, whose life has not ended with death but changed; he can also remarry. The celibate, in virtue of his vow, is without any of these possibIe means of satisfying his need for intimate per-sonal relationship. In times of need, he cannot turn to any of these possibilities but is compelled, as it were, to turn immediately to God. The celibate should rejoice that a potentiality for prayer which is a normal part of his life as a result of God's gift of celibacy is also bestowed on others by the circumstances of their lives. He should develop a keen sense of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as persons in his life to whom he intimately relates, so that he can help his fellow men do the same thing for the times in their lives when they need it. This is one way in which he serves as an example of Christian life and as a help to his fellow Christians in other states of life. The call of the celibate to turn in prayer to Father, Son, and Holy Spirit as genuine persons in his life for personal fulfillment tells us something about the content of prayer. One is inclined to think of prayer as saying "nice" things to God or thinking edifying thoughts in His presence. To pray is to recall God's wonderful works for men in the history of salvation. It is to praise God for His power, wisdom, and providence and to thank Him for .Jesus Christ and the gift of the Spirit. It is to express faith, hope, and charity in His regard. It is to have beau-tiful tl~oughts inspired by passages in Scripture or in spiritual books of meditation. It is to pray for the salva-tion of souls, for the growth of the Church, for the Pope and bishops, for health and holiness. As the content of prayer, all this is excellent. But if this is all that one ever regards as appropriate content for prayer, it may be doubted that one very often prays with the deep conviction and feeling with which the Psalmist or Jeremiah or Jesus prayed. If we turn again to the married man, we can get some idea of further and more realistic content for the prayer of the celibate. Marriage provides for the support and fulfillment of the married man because be has another person to whom be can unburden his soul. He does not talk to his wife only about beautiful and inspiring things. He does not always praise and thank her. The concerns which be ex-presses to bet are not limited to the general needs of mankind or society. He sometimes speaks to her about his doubts, his anger, his pity, his misery. He sometimes com-plains about her household management. Out of sincere admiration and gratitude, he sometimes congratulates her for a delicious meal or for a well-planned dinner party. To her he expresses deep emotions of fear, grief, hostility, hope, and joy, without fear that he will be rejected or tl~ougbt silly. He expresses to her his carnal desire for her. With his wife he is himself, lets himself go, and discovers what is in himself. As the married man expresses himself to his wife, the celibate expresses himself to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. In prayer the celibate talks to God about his doubts and convictions, his misery and his happiness. To God be rehearses his dislikes and hatreds, knowing that God will not condemn him but will heal his hostilities or at least help him live with them in a way which will not harm him or others. He vents his disappointments, his hurts, his aspirations, his feelings of triumph, without feeling that God will think him damnable or vain but, on the contrary, will go on loving him the more for opening his beart to Him. He tells God bow annoyed he is by his snperior or how vexed he is that his plans for the summer have been thwarted. He tells God about the happy visit he had that clay with a clear friend or about the program which he directed with remarkable success. He thanks God for the many blessings He has bestowed and complains to Him about His designs for him now. In a word, the celibate's prayer is not only saying things to God which one is expected to say to Him, as one is expected to say certain things to a bishop, or a superior, or the president of the United States. A married man does not find support and fulfillment in married life by telling his wife only those things which are expected in some romantic notion of marriage, but by telling her what is really in his mind and heart. So the celibate prays authentically to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit by ex-pressing to Them what is trnly in his mind and heart, whether it is beautiful or ugly. In this way he discovers himself through prayer to the three divine Persons. It should be noted that it is not mere self-expression that leads to self-discovery, but self-expression to which there is a response from another self. A husband's expres-sion of himself evokes a response from his wife; she ex-presses herself in silence or in words, favorably or unfa-vorably, admitting and accepting or challenging and re-fusing what her husband has presented. A husband's wife "talks back" in various ways. Dialogue between two per-sons arises. As a result of the exchange, the "truth" emerges into the light: what sort of person each is, what motivates each, strong and weak points of character. This truth about the self may not be recognized in the conrse of the exchange but only afterwards as one reflects on what happened in it. Nor does the whole truth emerge from one dialogue. It is only tbrongh repeated dialogue ÷ ÷ ÷ Celibacy VOLUME 30~ 3.971 603 + ÷ ÷ C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 604 over the course of time tbat a husband understands him-serf better, acquires some self-possession, and thus ma-tures. The analogous relation between husband and wife on the one hand and, on the other, the celibate and the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit appears to break down at this point. The Persons of the Trinity do not talk back. But they do! The three divine Persons talk back in reve-lation, in the external circnmstances of the celibate's life, and in his internal condition. In revelation, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit express the sort of persons they are, their motives, their designs. As a husband has to adjust himself to his wife as he discovers her to be through their dialogue together, the celibate must adjust himself to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Important for the celibate, then, is his continual searching in revelation, especially as found in the Scriptures, for God's response to what is in his mind and in his heart. In the external circum-stances of his life (where and with whom he lives, the duties he has, the claims made on him by others) and in his internal condition (his strengths and weaknesses of character, his interests and talents, his fears and hopes), God also talks back to the celibate. The celibate must adjust himself to these circumstances and conditions which divine providence has imposed or permitted. By examining his thoughts, feelings, desires, and activities in the light of revelation and the circumstances and condi-tions of his life in prayer to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the celibate, over a period of time, discovers more and more of the truth about himself. This truth makes him free, makes him a mature human person. I[ prayer is the expression to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit of all the celibate's thoughts and feelings, the "not-nice" ones as well as the "nice" ones, then prayer will not be limited to neat little times of prayer punctuating the (lay. The celibate can be personally present to the three divine Persons while he is walking down the street, tak-ing a shower, or dropping off to sleep at night. Moreo-ver, it is during just such times when he is alone and involved in activities which do not engage his mind very mnch, that he finds himself rehearsing in his mind and imagination his resentments, disappointments, failures, pleasures, and achievements. Dnring these times he has an opportunity for prayer. All that is required is the recognition that he is in the presence of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and the wish that They hear his recital of woe or happiness. The celibate will welcome times set aside for prayer, for then he will have the opportunity to express more fully his thoughts and feelings to the three divine Per-sons. He will have an opportunity to ask Them to forgive him for the wrong he has discovered in himself and to help him persevere in the good which he has found. He will welcome more formal and objective liturgical prayer, or spontaneous prayer in a group, for in some words of the liturgy or some words of a fellow Christian, there is the possibility that God's response to his self-expression will finally come: God will at last talk back. The dia-log. ue between the celibate and God will be consummated and the celibate will discern the truth about himself. God will not talk back to the celibate every time he engages in common prayer, liturgical or informal, but certainly on some occasions God's word will be there for him. Conse-quently, he will not neglect such prayer lest he miss the word of God which is meant just for him. When this word comes fi'om God in common prayer, it will continue to resound in his mind and heart as he goes his way, a new man, knowing himself better, more free, more ma-tllre. Real prayer is not always pretty. It is a cry to God in anguish or anger. Real prayer is not dispassionate. It is a song of gladness and triumph. It purifies because it places before a loving Father, Son, and Holy Spirit both what is ngly and what is beautiful in one's life. Coupled with the response of the three divine Persons, it leads to dis-covery of one'~ self, freedom, maturity, and personal ful-fillment. Celibacy creates a condition which calls for snch prayer with special urgency. Snch prayer is necessary in every state of life, but it is especially necessary for the celibate if lie is to achieve personal maturity, for lie has excluded from his life the ordinary means of achieving that maturity through the intimate interpersonal rela-tionship of marriage. The second great potentiality for prayer in the celi-bate's life resides in the need to develop human friend-ships. Tills.potentiality for prayer will be considered in the second part of this article. The first part of this article considered the first great potentiality for prayer in the celibate life, namely, the need to develop an intimate, truly personal friendship with the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, analogous to the relationship which a man and woman have in marriage. The second great potentiality for prayer in the celibate life resides in the need to develop human friendships. We begin exploration of this potentiality by noting different kinds of fi'iendship in the celibate's life. The first sort of friendship is toward those people with whom the celibate ordinarily lives, works, and recreates. The second class is toward those few people with whom lie shares particular views, interests, and wdues. The third kind of friendship is toward those persons to whom he is strongly attracted because they especially satisfy his + + + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 605 + + + C. Kie~ling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 606 particnlar subjective needs for certain other persons in his life. In the case of the first sort of friendship, the name "friend" is used in a very broad sense. The "associate" expresses more literally the relationship wlficb the celi-bate has with people in this first class of friendship. These people are his associates in daily work, meals, rec-reation, and prayer. With them he shares some general views, interests, and values, and be "gets along" with them. His interaction with them provides some personal support and happiness, but they do not satisfy some of his deeper, unique, human, and personal needs. lu this first group is included a subclass of associates to whom the celibate relates only with difficulty, perhaps even in continual conflict. Bnt such people are not strangers to him nor he to them; they know one another better than they know the clerk at the store or the passen-ger they meet on the plane. They "associate" with one an-other daily or very fi'cqucntly in w~rious activities. Inter-action with these people plays an important role in the celibate's personal development and pursuit of happiness. The name "friend" applies quite well to people in the second class of friendship, though here we will call them "good friends" to distinguisla them from friends of the first and third kind. The celibate particularly enjoys the company of his good friends and feels especially at ease with them. He feels free to express to them his opinions ~n(l feelings about many things because he knows that they will be respected and accepted. Most of the time, with most of these people, however, be will not express his most intimate thoughts and feelings about some things, and especially abot, t himself and them. The bond here is not mutu;d attraction to, and interest in, one another, but particular views, interests, and values which they bold in common. Witbont some good friends, the celibate may find life difficult. He will more likefy feel the pain of loneliness which the first kind of friends, associates, only superfi-cially alleviates. It is even possible that without some good fiiends he may develop neurotic tendencies, for he will not express to sympathetic listeners many thoughts and feelings, especially of hostility or discouragement, that would better be brought out into the open, lest, being confined within, they produce depression or mor-bidity. "Friend" is a rather pallid name for people in the third class of fiiendship. These people we will call "close friends" to distinguish them from associates and good friends. From the first sort of friend, the celibate parts with equanimity and, in some cases, relief; fi'om the sec-ond sort, with regret; from the third, with great reluc- tance and even anguish. If a close friend suffers misfor-tune, the celibate's own life is upset, perhaps to distrac-tion and disorientation; he finds it difficult to go on tran-quilly with his ordinary duties. It is as if be himself suffered the misfortune. Close friends are most truly "other selves." The celibate is interested in his close friends, not simply in their views and values, but in them, their innermost thoughts and feelings, their physi-cal, mental, and spiritual welfare. To them he reveals his deepest thoughts and feelings, his doubts, convictions, and emotions, confident of their affection (not just re-spect) and their loyalty toward him. He is more or less emotionally involved with them. in them he finds fulfill-ment of his need for intimacy with persons. They are surrogates for the marriage partner which he has ex-cluded from his life. Sonie celibates cannot live well-balanced, full, and happy lives without one or more close friends. Others can, though they will lack sympathetic understanding for some experiences of the human heart. On tile other hand, every celibate's life can be imlnensely enriched by close friendship, even though lie may not absolutely need it for persoual maturity and contentment. The celibate's friends of all three kinds may be men or women. One and the same person may be a friend in one or more of these three ways. Thus the celibate may be strongly attracted to a member of his local community with whom he finds particular compatibility in likes and concerns. On tile other hand, he may find such compati-bility or such personal attraction or both in someone with whom lie rarely associates. This typology of friendships in the celibate's life has, of course, the limitations of every typology. It is an at-tempt to find some intelligible pattern in the infinite variety, complexity, and fluidity of life. Actual friend-ships will approximate one or another type, sometimes partaking of characteristics of more than oue type. The whole matter is complicated further in actual life by the fact that tile celibate and a certain friend may not re-spond to one another in the same class of friendship; lie may regard as a close frieud someone who looks upon him as simply a good friend. Hence one may find that one's own experiences of friendship do not fit neatly into this or that category of the typology that has been pre-sented. In spite of its inadequacies, this typology serves to sug-gest that some o~ the celibate's friendships will not be very problematic, while others will; some will evoke re-sponses from him beyond what be expects and is immedi-ately prepared for and thus will demand growth in per-sonal matnrity. Compatible associates and good friends + + + Celibacy VOLUME 30, 1971 607 + ÷ C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 608 are usually taken for granted. They are lubricants, so to speak, which make the wheel of life turn easily. They do not make very great demands on the celibate but make it possible for him to bear with the demands of life which come from other sources. Relating to irritating associates or to close friends, on the other hand, is not easy. Relating to irritating associates is difficult because of the conflict of personalities. Relating to close friends is arduous because strong instinctual drives, powerful emo-tions, deep personal needs, and wish-fulfilling illusions are involved, and because the focus of attention is not the stable, objective mntual interests and activities shared by good friends, but the person of the close friend, a free agent, susceptible to moods, hence often falling short of expectations, and ultimately a mystery, as every human person is. In attempting to develop these two kinds of friendship, the celibate discovers his limitations and is driven toward prayer to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for help. Hence these two sorts of friendship may be said to contain more conspicuous potentialities for growth in prayer than the other kinds of friendship. Actual instances of these two difficult sorts of friend-ship are infinitely varied by circumstances. The difficulty in relating to an annoying associate may be due to nor-real differences of temperament and character or to neu-rotic traits in one or both. The irritating associate may be a superior or a peer, or may be someone with whom the celibate lives elbow to elbow or someone with whom he deals only in his work. The person toward whom the celibate feels drawn in close friendship may be a man or woman, celibate, single, or married, frequently or only occasionally in his company. Becanse actual instances of these two kinds of friend-ship are so different fi'om one another, to speak of the potentialities for prayer in them in general would not be very helpful. Hence, we will restrict ourselves to explor-ing the potentialities for prayer in a close friendship of the (male) celibate with a woman, also dedicated to celi-bacy, whom he sees only occasionally; it will also be as-sumed that both persons are firm in their dedication to the celibate life. From this single instance, one can gain some idea of what it means to speak of the potentialities for prayer in friendship. One can then explore on one's own the possibilities for prayer in one's own difficult hnman relationships. In a close friendship of the kind stipulated, the celibate finds pleasure, satisfaction, and joy. Deep cisterns of sex-ual, human, and personal needs are filled to brimming with cool, fi'esh water. Life becomes extraordinarily beau-tiful in the present and rich in possibilities for the future. He marvels at the qualities he discovers, one after the other, in Iris friend and at the total uniqueness and mys-tery of her being. In her presence, life assumes a timeless, eternal quality. Particular words and actions are lost to view in the more comprehensive awareness of the inter-personal presence which they mediate; just being to-gether is more significant than anything said or done. Because of tiffs friendship, the whole of life and the world receive a new interpretation and meaning. A frequent form of prayer found in the Bible is praise of God in thanksgiving for his gifts of creation and salvation.4 The Bible contains countless joyful songs (Psahns and Canticles) in which God is praised and thanked by simply reciting in His presence the beauty and awesomeness of creation and His wonderful works of salvation on behalf of His people or individt, als. In the pleasure, satisfaction, and joy which the celibate finds in Iris friendship, there is inspiration for praise of God and thanksgiving to Him for what gives so much happy ful-fillment. As he rehearses to himself the wonderfulness of his experience and of the loved one--be can scarcely avoid doing tbis~he has only to place himself in the presence of God and add to his rehearsal, in a spirit of gratitude, acknowledgment to God for His gift. Knowing experientially what it means to break out in praise and thanksgiving to God for one gift so keenly appreciated, the celibate more readily values the prayers of praise and thanksgiving for other gifts of God (some of them, in the final analysis, far more itnportant than his friendship) which constitute so much of the liturgy. He welcomes a period of mental prayer, for it provides time to recount before God, in thankft, l praise, the joys of his friendship. But there is also the pain of separation--the anguish of parting and the ache of being apart. What does the cell bate do with this pain? He nnites it with the pain of Christ on the cross-and thus makes it, not an inexplicable dead-end, but redemptive and life-giving. He does this in tl~ought whenever be feels the pain with particular acute-hess, but be does it also when be offers himself to God in, with, and through Christ in His unique offering of Him-self and all mankind on Calvary rendered sacramentally present in the celebration of the Eucharist. The pain of separ~tion is grist [or the miil of t, nion with Christ in suffering and death, even as the joy of presence antici-pates the joy of sharing in the resurrection of Jesus. Through the pain and joy of friendship, the celibate ~Sce T. Worden, The Psalms Are Christian Prayer (New York: Sbccd and Ward, 1961), for an excellent analysis of tbc Psalms and other prayers in Scripture as basically praise (thanksgiving) or lamen-tation (petition, hope, confidence). Both kinds, especially the first, have been carried over into the Christian liturgy, with modifica-tions. Both arc exemplary for private prayer. ÷ ÷ + Celibacy VOLUME .:30, 1971 609 C. Kiesling, O.P. REVIE

'Der Blickwinkel, unter dem Anfang der neunziger Jahre die innenpolitischen Probleme in Kasachstan thematisiert und charakterisiert wurden, war wesentlich vom 'russischen Problem' bestimmt. Die ethnische und kulturelle Heterogenität in Kasachstan verführte dazu, die postsowjetische Realität zu simplifizieren. Konfliktlinien, -inhalte und -verläufe wurden oftmals eindimensional und monokausal dargestellt. 'Ethnische Barrieren' galten als das dominante Konfliktmuster bei Auseinandersetzungen um Staatssprache, Staatsbürgerschaft und Staatsgrenzen. Die kulturelle und personelle 'Kasachisierung' erschien als maßgebliche Ursache für ethnonationalistische Verlautbarungen und interethnische Zusammenstöße. Wesentliche Faktoren wie der wirtschaftliche Wandel und die soziale Lage der Bevölkerung wurden häufig nicht beachtet. Die vorliegende Analyse soll einen differenzierteren Blick auf die ethnopolitische Situation in Kasachstan zu eröffnen. Im Mittelpunkt stehen die gravierenden sozioökonomischen Veränderungen, mit denen die Bevölkerung seit der Unabhängigkeit konfrontiert ist. Wie in anderen zentralasiatischen Staaten befindet sich das kasachstanische Bildungs- und Gesundheitswesen in einer Krise. Soziale Transferleistungen sowie Löhne, Gehälter und Renten werden kaum bzw. nur noch sporadisch ausgezahlt. Die regionalen und sektoralen Einkommensdifferenzen nehmen zu. Arbeitslosigkeit ist ein Massenphänomen. Die Fähigkeit des kasachstanischen Staates, alle Bevölkerungsschichten zu integrieren, schwindet. Er ist nicht mehr in der Lage, Wünsche und Hoffnungen der Bevölkerung nach Wohlstand und Wachstum zu erfüllen. Vor dem Hintergrund dieser Entwicklungen soll in der vorliegenden Arbeit diskutiert werden, welche Formen des sozialen Protests die Kasachstaner gegen die bestehenden Verhältnisse entwickelt haben. Herrscht allgemeine Apathie vor, oder nehmen ethnonationalistische Bestrebungen überhand? Wendet sich der Protest gegen andere Ethnien oder gegen den Staat? Die Antworten zu diesen Fragen eröffnen Perspektiven für die Bestandsfähigkeit des kasachstanischen Nationalstaates. Eine endgültige Beurteilung der innenpolitischen Situation kann und soll jedoch nicht geleistet werden. Es gilt lediglich, Tendenzen herauszuarbeiten, die die innenpolitische Stabilität des Landes in Frage stellen könnten.' (Textauszug)

Ringforts are among the most numerous and definitely the most visible archaeological monument on the Irish landscape. The majority of these monuments were built during the latter half of the first millennium AD and most had ceased to serve as habitation sites by the twelfth century. Nevertheless, communities across Ireland would have remained very aware of the presence of these monuments. Several centuries later, much land, particularly in the east of the country was appropriated by the Anglo-Normans and they too seemed to have viewed ringforts as important, albeit different, types of monuments. The goal of this thesis has been to investigate the question of how ringforts were perceived in pre-modern Ireland. To do so, this initial question was broken down into three others, namely how attitudes and beliefs towards ringforts developed, how these attitudes influenced behaviour towards these monuments and what effect, if any, these had on the survival of ringforts in particular areas. Seeking to demonstrate how attitudes and beliefs towards ringforts originated and later developed, involved an initial division of Irish society in two broad groups, one group being indigenous and the other group comprising newcomers. The former group was then further sub-divided into those that comprised the learned classes of society and the popular class. An examination of evidence for how ringforts were perceived within the two Irish groups was then undertaken and it was shown that a correct knowledge of ringforts, particularly concerning their origin but also of their function, was available within the Gaelic manuscript tradition. Evidence was also provided to demonstrate how this information may have been disseminated into the wider community. It has also been shown how the decline in fortune of the learned Gaelic class, and the disappearance of many manuscripts, meant that this knowledge faded from the grasp of the general population. This decline in understanding then paved the way for the emergence of another, mythological, association of ringforts. The initial development of this association was facilitated by the presence of underground chambers in many ringforts. These were initially constructed as refuges and storerooms, but over time the perception of these changed as their association with an underground living mythological race developed. Perceptions of this race itself changed over time, particularly as a result of a serious decline in the Gaelic language, and this attributed qualities to this group that it did not originally possess. The association in traditional belief between this group and ringforts supposedly served to protect these monuments from destruction. Aside from these Gaelic interpretations, an equally influential perception developed within the worldview of the newcomers to the country. This attributed a completely different origin and function to ringforts. Over time this perception developed the status of orthodoxy and proved extremely difficult to dislodge from its position. However, attempts were sometimes made by the remaining Gaelic antiquarians to present to a wider audience the knowledge concerning the indigenous origin of ringforts. However, it was only towards the end of the 18th century that this information began to achieve prominence, and from this date it grew in importance and eventually displaced the theory that ringforts were of foreign origin and had a predominately military function. Did these differing attitudes have an effect on ringfort survival? An examination of 19th and 20th century maps, from study areas in Co. Cork, showed that some level of destruction occurred between these two periods. In this context the word 'destruction' is used in a general sense, while remaining cognisant that an important archaeological element remained underground. Earlier estate maps are available for these study areas and a comparative study of all the available cartographic sources indicated a severe rate of decline in ringfort numbers from the beginning of the 18th century to the present day. Additional examination of photographic images from recent aerial surveys showed, in some cases, that the levelling of ringforts began even prior to the compilation of the first maps in 1717. This comparative study highlighted the apparent contradiction between the important position of ringforts for each of the local communities and the high level of ringfort destruction. It also allowed for the period of most risk to ringforts in these study areas to be identified. A study of the practical developments in each of these two baronies that was likely to have most affected ringforts in each of these study areas was then undertaken. The study suggested that the development of commercial tillage farming from the later part of the 18th century posed the greatest risk to ringforts in the east Cork barony. In the second study area, of mid-Cork, the proximity to an urban area seems to have negatively affected ringforts in the region. This study also highlighted that the levelling of ringforts continued throughout the period under examination and this facilitated the conclusion that the desire to maximise profits drove a doctrine of 'Improvement' and it was this economic factor that posed the greatest overall risk to ringforts in these two baronies. An attempt was then made to corroborate these results through seeking to apply them to areas throughout the country where other farming practices were noted for the same period. Initially, it was decided to focus on two baronies in Co. Kildare, as these had a long history of arable farming and, furthermore, were located near the main urban centre of the country, Dublin. In this situation, the application of the hypothesis developed in Co. Cork should show an increased rate of decline in both these areas, if the theory held true. Indeed, these were the results that were obtained, with one barony, Kilcullen, providing evidence, in maps and aerial images, for the total destruction of ringforts there. It was then decided to test this hypothesis in areas where different farming activity was noted. Castlereagh barony in Co. Roscommon, noted for cattle fattening, and Ibrickan barony in Co. Clare, an area of small, mixed farms, were chosen and the results conformed to what would be expected if the notion that arable farming posed the greatest risk to ringfort survival was accurate. Therefore, the answers to the questions posed at the beginning of this thesis may be summarised in this manner: ringforts occupied an important position in the world views of the communities that encountered them, fulfilling a variety of social and political roles. However, economic factors seem to have been accorded greater importance and this resulted in ringforts being removed from the Irish landscape in large numbers.

Hauptgegenstand dieses Projektes war es, eine internationale Datenbank (insb. für Europa) von Faktoren herzustellen, die für die gesundheitlichen Auswirkungen von wirtschaftlicher Umstrukturierung und Personalabbau relevant sind. Daten von der WHO, EUROSTAT, OECD, FAO, ILO, Weltbank und der UNO wurden so zusammengeführt, dass sie die Analyse ökonomischer Faktoren, die Umstrukturierungen hervorbringen und die Gesundheit der Bevölkerungen industrialisierter Länder beeinflussen, ermöglichen. Es wurde darauf geachtet, die wichtigsten Hypothesen zu einer möglichen Relation von ökonomischer Umstrukturierung und Gesundheit in Betracht zu ziehen. Globalisierung und Umstrukturierung Brenner bestimmt die zentralen externen Faktoren, die großen Einfluss auf den Umstrukturierungsprozess haben: Globalisierung (durch internationalen Handel), technischer Wandel (als Hauptursache für Produktivitätsanstieg), politische Entscheidungen (bzgl. internationaler Konkurrenzfähigkeit, High-Tech-Investitionen, Investitionen in Bildung und Wissenschaft, Einwanderungspolitik) und Unternehmensführung (u.a. Trends in akademischen Management-Theorien bezüglich Kostenkontrolle, Profitmaximierung, sozialer Verantwortung und Investitionsentscheidungen in Kapitalgüter vs. Humankapital). Mögliche Quellen einer Gesundheitsbeeinträchtigung der Bevölkerung sind Deindustrialisierung, Personalabbau, Outsourcing, Offshoring und Standortwechsel. Geschwindigkeit des Wandels Globalisierung und die damit verbundenen Umstrukturierungen üben einen extremen Anpassungsdruck auf die betroffenen Beschäftigten, Familien und Gemeinwesen aus. Aber die Geschichte hat gezeigt, dass eine ausbleibende oder besonders langsame Umstrukturierung zu langsamen Wachstum, Inflation und instabilen Währungskursen führt. Schnelle Umstrukturierung ist in modernen, industrialisierten, vernetzten und technologisch innovativen Gesellschaften ein Teil des Lebens. Die Hypothese muss überprüft werden, dass der negative Einfluss von Umstrukturierung auf die Gesundheit der Beschäftigten proportional zur Länge des wirtschaftlichen Abschwungs verläuft. Personalabbau ist ein weiterer Aspekt des heutigen Arbeitsmarktes, der negative Auswirkungen wie höhere Arbeitsbelastung, unsicherere Arbeitsbedingungen, Gesundheitsgefahren und die Gefahr der Arbeitslosigkeit für die Weiterbeschäftigten haben kann. Andreeva et al. untersuchen diesen Hauptaspekt des Personalabbaus. Regionale Dimensionen Edenharter führt Scatterplots als ein Werkzeug zur Überwachung regionaler Entwicklung ein. Lineare Regression erzeugt die Scatterplots, die die Beziehung zwischen Lebenserwartung und zwei ökonomischen Indikatoren, Arbeitslosigkeitsrate und Einkommen, in jeder der Regionen in der Fallstudie in Deutschland anzeigen. Sozioökonomische Gesundheitsungleichheiten in der Rezession Die Untersuchung von Theodossiou geht der Frage nach, durch welche Einflusswege Rezession und ökonomische Erholung sozioökonomische Ungleichheiten und Arbeitslosigkeit verstärken, welche sich wiederum auf die physische und psychische Gesundheit auswirken. In der empirischen Literatur wird Arbeitslosigkeit als eine zentrale sozioökonomische Determinante von Gesundheit identifiziert, insbesondere bei Männern. Allerdings beeinflusst Arbeitslosigkeit nicht nur die Arbeitslosen, sondern auch ihre Partner und Kinder. Ein wichtiger politischer Rückschluss der Untersuchung ist der Langzeit- und sogar generationsübergreifende Effekt von Armut und Arbeitslosigkeit. Entsprechende Entbehrungen in der Kindheit haben langwierige Folgen für die Gesundheit der Betroffenen, die sich erst später im Erwerbsalter zeigen. Wirtschaftspolitik und gesundheitliche Ungleichheit Drakopoulos berichtet, dass infolge der Stagflation der 70er Jahre, als die Regierungen konservativer wurden, der Schwerpunkt ihrer Wirtschaftspolitik sich auf Kosten der Bekämpfung von Arbeitslosigkeit hin zur Bekämpfung der Inflation verschob. Ein positiver Einfluss wird folgenden Maßnahmen zugeschrieben: Reduzierung der Arbeitslosigkeit, höheren Ausgaben, niedrigeren Steuern und Zinsraten sowie Subventionen an Firmen, die ihre Beschäftigungsraten erhöhen. Bildungsausgaben die die Arbeitskräfte für die Bedürfnisse neuer Industrien und Bereiche mit Arbeitskräftemangel qualifizieren erhöhen das Humankapital und die Produktivität. Politische Maßnahmen zur Abschwächung der Umstrukturierungsfolgen Triomphe stellt fest, dass Umstrukturierung für Manager, Gewerkschafter und Beschäftigte eine breite Palette von Änderungen bedeutet, die mindestens einen Unternehmensbereich oder ein gesamtes Unternehmen in Form von Schließung, Personalabbau, Outsourcing, Offshoring, Leiharbeit, Zusammenlegung, Versetzungen oder anderen komplexen Reorganisationen betreffen. Doch für die betroffenen Regionen und Arbeitsämter bedeutet es vor allem Personalabbau und Fabrikschließungen. ; The main purpose of this project has been to construct an international database, especially for Europe, involving factors that relate to economic restructuring and job downsizing that have implications for health. Relevant data from the WHO, EUROSTAT, OECD, FAO, ILO, World Bank, and United Nations have been merged in a manner that will permit analysis of economic factors bearing on restructuring as they influence the health of industrialized country populations. In order to be certain that the relevant factors were included in the database, the investigators wanted to be confident that the major hypotheses regarding the potential relation between economic restructuring and health were taken into account. Thus, the more specific aims of the project were to identify the literatures and hypotheses that bear on these issues. These literatures are reviewed below. Globalisation and Restructuring: Indicators Brenner identifies the principal external factors that are thought to have a major influence on the restructuring process. These include globalization (via international trade), technological change (i.e. the principal source of productivity growth), government policies (involving international competitiveness, high technology investments, investments in science and education, immigration policies) and management style (including the trends in academic managerial theories as to cost control, profit maximization, social responsibility, investment in capital goods versus human capital etc). Potential sources of harm to the health of the population include: deindustrialization, downsizing, outsourcing, offshoring and delocalization. Rate of Change We know that globalization, and associated restructuring, places extreme pressure on adaptation of affected workers, families and communities. But, history has shown that lack of restructuring or restructuring at very slow speed leads to slow growth, inflation and exchange rate instability. Rapid restructuring is a fact of life for modern, industrialised, highly interconnected, technologically innovative societies. A hypothesis that needs testing is the belief that negative impacts of restructuring on workers' health are proportional to the length of the economic downturn. Downsizing is another aspect of today's labour market which can introduce negative changes for those who remain employed, such as heavier workload, unsafe working conditions, physical hazards, and job insecurity. Andreeva and colleagues review these main effects of downsizing. Regional Dimension Edenharter introduces scatter-plots as a tool to monitor regional development over time. Linear regression generated the scatter-plots indicating the relationship between life expectancy and two economic indicators, unemployment rate and income, in each of the regions in the case study of Germany. Socioeconomic Inequalities of Health in Recessions The review by Theodossiou suggests mechanisms, or pathways, for how recession and economic upheaval foster socioeconomic inequalities and unemployment, which, in turn, impact on physical and mental health. The review of the empirical literature identifies unemployment as a key socioeconomic determinant of health, particularly for men. However, unemployment does not only affect unemployed individuals but also their spouses and children. A main policy implication of this review of evidence is the long term and even intergenerational effect of poverty and unemployment. Childhood deprivation due to poverty and unemployment of their parents have long lasting detrimental effects on the health of individuals that are visible at later ages of working life. Economic Policy and Health Inequalities Drakopoulos recounts that, following the stagflation of the 1970's, as governments became more conservative, the emphasis of their economic policies shifted towards eliminating inflation at the expense of unemployment. What particular economic policies have a beneficial impact on health? These include policies targeted to reducing unemployment, including increased government spending, lowered taxation and low interest rates as well as employment subsidies to firms in order to maintain/increase employment levels. Education and training funds directed toward capacity building of the workforce to fill new industries and address critical shortages improves human capital and also increases productivity. Policies Mitigating Consequences of Restructuring Triomphe indicates that for managers, trade unions and employees, restructuring refers to a wide panel of changes, affecting at least a whole organizational sector or an entire company in the forms of closure, downsizing, job losses, outsourcing, off-shoring, sub-contracting, merging, delocalization, internal job mobility or other complex internal reorganizations. But, it means mostly downsizing, closing factories and dismissals for employment services and territories.